Richard's Animorphs Forum
Animorphs Section => Animorphs Role Playing => Topic started by: Myitt on March 22, 2011, 11:02:12 PM
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((Note: Continued from http://animorphsforum.com/index.php?topic=2089.0 ))
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Nervously, Iosse skitted across the barroom up to Temrash and the irresistible attraction of the smell of raw meat. But at Temrash's question he froze. Was... was that bad? Would he not be allowed to have a Yeerk now? He knew that some Taxxons were considered to be too dangerous to be hosts, some too dangerous to be left alive. The concept of lying didn't even cross his mind, however; his mind (not that his Yeerk really felt it qualified as a mind) had always been an open record. "Rrrrrryiishhh..." He hissed. Panic was welling up from his gut, threatening to take over. If Temrash didn't approve, would he be deprived from the steak in hand, which had slowly become the only thing he could see? The impulse, the need to tear into that minuscule shred of flesh and blood was an agonizing pain. Don't be mad... must have this... must have help... Please.... He began oozing thick yellow slime all over.
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(( :bow: :bow2: :clap: <= All because you posted first on the 1000th page. :) ))
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Salem laughed, in spite of the position he was in, "Corliss, I'm perfectly capable of doing stupid things of my own accord. Are you really willing to risk being blown up based on what I 'seem to be'?"
He kept a careful eye on Terenia, still grinning, as he continued speaking to Corliss. "I deliberately hacked your password. I didn't expect it to work. Yeerk ships have always been tough for me in that regard. I think I've learned my lesson," he chuckled, "stick to hacking imperials, not potential allies. I'm willing to offer my services to you." He sighed, the expression on his face changing to one of passive amusement. "Look, if you're not willing to hear me out, maybe you can put me into contact with someone in your rebellion who will."
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"Ok. Try not to do it again, though. Some people wouldn't approve of someone exhuming their dead." Temrash said as he tossed the steak a short distance for him to catch and eat. Rule one of feeding Taxxons was to never hand feed them. He gave a little grimace when Iosse started oozing slime, but it's not like Taxxons were ever cute otherwise.
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I walked up to two humans in the bar. I tried to strike up a conversation, "Heltho. I am callth Criio. I am a Venber."
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<<Why would he want that?>> Serid asks Corliss, his weariness and Salem's strange behavior starting to create a fog of confusion. <<Do you think he could have an ulterior motive for speaking with someone at the base? Could he, perhaps, log the transmission for later access?>>
Illim waits outside the ship, biting his lower lip nervously. <<They'd better get out of there quick,>> he mutters to Derrel, frustrated by his inability to do anything. <<I shouldn't have let Corliss infest him....>>
At the sound of an unfamiliar voice above--unfamiliar in an entirely alien way--Elayne swings her head upwards. The sight of the Venber startles her. "A... what?" she asks dumbly. She has never heard of or seen such a creature, and considering the time she has spent around Yeerks, it is not often a species is entirely new to her.
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<Maybe once this tresspasser is gone, we can make Corliss stay in the ship until he leaves Serid. This is a lot longer than he wanted to be infested.> Derrel said.
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At the sound of an unfamiliar voice above--unfamiliar in an entirely alien way--Elayne swings her head upwards. The sight of the Venber startles her. "A... what?" she asks dumbly. She has never heard of or seen such a creature, and considering the time she has spent around Yeerks, it is not often a species is entirely new to her.
I tilted my head a bit, "Nefer hearth off a Venber? Noth Thtrange...but yes, I am a Venber. My name is Criio. Vhat ith your name?"
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"This is stupid," Terenia says, growing impatient. "If I had my Andalite body you're head would be rolling by now, dapsen." She glances at Corliss and switches to private thought-speech. <<If he is telling the truth, and he has explosives on his body, would a Dracon on stun set them off? It may be best to just knock him out. I'd rather deal with him unconscious, personally.>>
Trey follows Elayne's gaze, recoiling slightly at the sight of the unfamiliar alien. He glances at Elayne and, seeing that she too seems to be unsure as to what a 'Venber' was, shifts uncomfortably. He does not answer the Venber's question, waiting for Elayne to offer up her name first.
Efaen watches the exchange between Yeerk and Taxxon, her brow furrowed in disgust.
<Disgusting,> she says acidly after Temrash throws the meat. It is unclear whether she is referring to the Taxxon, Temrash or the conversation about devouring corpses.
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<Yes, Taxxons are pretty revolting.> Claxter said as he watched Iosse secrete ooze.
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"You're skilled at hacking, I'll give you that," Corliss replies tersely, "but I doubt my brother or anyone else in the rebellion would be willing to accept the skills of someone who would easily take payment to betray us. Unless...you are willing to explain away some grave misunderstanding on the part of the person who hired you to do this?" He eyes Salem skeptically.
<<Clearly someone must have goaded him into it,>> Corliss says, as much to himself as to his temporary host, not really thinking to actually answer Serid's question. <<He's lucky he wasn't able to actually remove information, or I would have been alerted.>>
The faint sensation of Corliss' doubt nevertheless trickles into Serid's mind. He glances at Terenia briefly with a helpless shrug, unable to say any more.
Mike sighs impatiently, silently, in his head. He addresses Corliss out of frustration even though it is useless. <<Come on, mate, tell 'im off and let's get the bloody hell out of here. Terenia, try and convince him the man's an idiot, no lasting harm was done, and he can go on his way. I don't like the idea that he's strapped with half a ton of explosives...>>
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"I'm a politician not a doctor," Taylis said. "I might know some one that does though." She looked over at Temrash he was holding some meat in front of a Taxxon. She grimmest at the oversized insect, thankful that she had never had to use one as a host. "I could see if he will let us use it."
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Elayne frowns at the strange creature before turning her head surreptitiously to watch for Trey's reaction. As he provides no explanation or support, however, she answers for them. "I'm Elayne." She gestures to the young man sitting beside her. "This is Trey."
She purses her lips as she considers the alien. She has many questions for him, but thinks perhaps interrogating him on his diet and homeworld conditions immediately--if he is, indeed, even a he--could be perceived as rude, so she asks instead, "What brings you to the Bar?"
<<Perhaps that is the case,>> Serid murmurs, <<but do not forget his slippery nature. He will surely attempt to create a plausible story to fool you. Why not release him and, once he is far away, perhaps stun him? It may not trigger the explosives, if indeed he is truthful about them.>> Although he had not been privy to Terenia's private thought-speech to Corliss, he arrives at a similar conclusion through sheer exhaustion and irritation with the situation. He is ready to be free of this Yeerk and all of the danger and drama he seems to find.
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I nodded, "Yeth, of courthe. I am here tho..um...well, I thuppose I am noth here for any thpecific reathon."
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"Andalite body?" Salem laughed, in response to Terenia's threat. "How many bodies do you Yeerks need?"
He ****ed his head for a moment at Corliss's words. "Is everything a conspiracy to you? Someone hired me to sneak onto your ship and steal your deepest, darkest secrets, and, in spite of the fact that this rebellion is my most promising trading partner on this rock, I took the job?" He laughed, his outward appearance still being one of coolheadedness, but inwardly he was starting to worry. He hadn't expected Corliss to be remarkably persistent in questioning him. The high he felt at dealing with this sort of situation was still with him, though, and the fact that Corliss and Terenia seemed very uncomfortable only gave him more confidence. And... were there more bodies outside the Skimmer? Salem thought he could see at least one other person. He smirked. This was getting more fun by the second.
"That sounds pretty dumb of me, Yeerk. Are you rebels always this paranoid?" He seemed to think about this for a second, "Yeah, I guess you'd have to be, to keep an organization running in secret in the middle of a war between two titanic empires." He looked Corliss in the eye, his expression more serious, but traces of a smirk still showing on his face. "I don't betray my trading partners, Yeerk. It makes for bad business relations. I don't have a way to prove that to you, but maybe we can make some sort of small deal to break the ice. Like, you put the gun down and don't shoot me, and I'll wait to talk to you until you've cooled off about this little mistake of mine."
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Carris drums his fingers against the bar. He looks over his shoulder at Fiona, who's still sitting at the booth across the bar. He sighs, turning back to Amy. "Might as well give it a shot. I can't lose more than I already have."
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"You're as desperate as I was," Taylis sighed. "I'll see what I can do." She left Carris at the bar to go talk to Temrash. She tried to it look like she was starting a random friendly conversation. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to borrow a defibrillator?"
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"Ok. Try not to do it again, though. Some people wouldn't approve of someone exhuming their dead." Temrash said as he tossed the steak a short distance for him to catch and eat. Rule one of feeding Taxxons was to never hand feed them. He gave a little grimace when Iosse started oozing slime, but it's not like Taxxons were ever cute otherwise.
The slab of meat never touched the ground. While it was a rather hefty cut, it barely touched the barren emptiness of his hunger. The nice Yeerk hadn't punished him. A slight feeling of relief affected him. He would try to refrain from making that mistake again, though... he didn't want to upset his new friend, or anyone else who might not be so sympathetic.
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Elayne frowns. "No reason? Well, I suppose it's not that strange, but most of us end up here because we needed somewhere to land or some such. And then it seems like we all find reason to stay," she smirks. "Where were you before?" she asks, propping her elbows on the table as she watches the strange creature.
<<Yeah,>> Illim tells Derrel, leaning against the side of the ship as he tries to listen to what's going on inside, <<but I gave Terenia my Dracon. If she really does care about him,>> he says, his voice sounding dubious, <<she's not likely to give me any leverage to force Corliss out of Serid.>>
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<This is a bad idea, Carris,> Adam says.
Carris takes a drink. <I know it is.>
<It's not going to work.>
<How the hell do you know?>
Adam was silent for a moment, but Carris could feel his growing unease. <It's just a feeling.>
Carris doesn't respond. He just sets his glass down and waits impatiently for Amy to return.
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Elayne frowns. "No reason? Well, I suppose it's not that strange, but most of us end up here because we needed somewhere to land or some such. And then it seems like we all find reason to stay," she smirks. "Where were you before?" she asks, propping her elbows on the table as she watches the strange creature.
"I wath on the Uith Gen-daar colony. In your lanfuage, ith ith litherally thranthlathed "Latht Thtand". Ith where the latht Venber haff taken up rethidenthe.", I answered.
I thought about it. It was more of a penal camp than a rehabilitation center...
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"I see," Elayne replies hesitantly. "Well, welcome to the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar. I suppose I have been here long enough to issue a welcome now, anyway," she smiles. "Care to sit? I'm curious about your people's place in the war, if it's even going on where you're from."
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I sat down, msking sure to slip my tail through the back of the chair.
"Vell, we didn'th haff a thpethifically gloriouth pothithion. I haff hearth thath a Vither onthe cloned thome of my people tho prothect a kandrona bathe in the Terran arcthic regionth."
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Okaru's voice softly flew to the Andalites ears, seemeing to come from all directions because of the echo. ''Are you Ossanlin?''
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I snapped on my glasses to see through the gas. Ryde was NOT getting away this time.
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Ossanlin nods at Mar and continues his leisurely pace, absorbing nutrients with every step. Suddenly he hears a voice on the wind, his stalk eyes start scanning a bit harder. He displays no outward sign that he has heard anything, but sends a private thought to Mar. <<Are my temporal lobes acting up or did you just hear something?>>
Ossanlin reaches out with his senses, but with all the life-forms around in the forest, it is difficult to pinpoint one out of place. If he had enough energy to ascend it would be an easy matter to sense someone...but through the fog of his normal form, it is difficult to sort through the different sources of life.
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Okaru called out louder, ''ARE YOU OSSANLIN!''
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Mandy suddenly realized there was no use running anymore, her cover was blown. She stopped, turned to face Danielle, then simply stated, "I give in."
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Give.... give in? Danielle was confused, but did her job before Ryde changed her mind. "You are now in custody according to the......." Her voice trailed off. She promptly informed the Forlatain command of her mission's sucess, and a ship was sent to retrieve Ryde. Danielle's mission was done. It was time for her to find a new mission.
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"Really," Elayne frowns at the strange creature. "Why would a Visser do that? Do you have a particular strength as a species that a Yeerk would crave? Why not just infest you?" She pauses and then adds, "I am surprised I haven't heard of your race if you're known to the Yeerks."
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The scrap of meat had only taunted his unconquerable hunger. He looked around the room feeling deprived. He... he needed a Yeerk. He couldn't handle this, this, .... solitude, any longer. "Krish shhhhn Thheeeeurhk." He said. He didn't even know how to use his own language! How could he survive on his own? He just hoped that Temrash had a Yeerk ready for him.
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Terenia glances at Corliss uncertainly.
<<Corliss, Mike says that this man is an idiot and you should just let him go since he didn't actually hurt anything,>> she relays reluctantly. <<I don't know how great of an idea it is to have someone like him running around the bar, though. People who work for money make me nervous. Look what happened with Keshin...>>
"Funny way you have of gaining the trust of potential allies," she snaps out loud to Salem. "I would think that a good buisnessman would know better."
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"Really," Elayne frowns at the strange creature. "Why would a Visser do that? Do you have a particular strength as a species that a Yeerk would crave? Why not just infest you?" She pauses and then adds, "I am surprised I haven't heard of your race if you're known to the Yeerks."
I shrugged, "Ath I thaid, it wath ath an Arcthic Bathe. We are more rethithtent to the cold, obviouthly. And I athume that thinthe we are made off ithe, a Yeerk would freethe to death inthide one of our headth."
I hung my head at the last statement, "Ath far ath I know, the operathion was a failure, ath tho many of Vither 3's venthures. My thourthes thay we were nefer uthed again."
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"Ok. Sure. I have obne in the ship." He said.
Iosse kept on about a Yeerk, so Temrash figured he must be an unhosted Taxxon with no Yeerk. He didn't really have any extra Yeerks on hand, though maybe he could talk to one of the other Taxxon controllers about switching. "Come on Iosse. I think I have an idea to get you another Yeerk." Temrash said, and began walking out. However, he needed to tell Morgan.
"Hey. There's something I need to do real quick. It shouldn't take long, and you can either come with me, or just sit tight with Gaz watching you. Is that ok, Morgan?"
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"Thanks Temrash," Taylis said as she started to follow his bladed tail.
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Elayne raises an eyebrow and folds her arms dubiously. "Made of ice?" she echoes. Is that even possible? Shrugging, she goes on, "Well, it may be that what you're talking about never happened on my world. This Bar is peculiar; it exists at a juncture of different times and realities. Your past could be my future, or we could even be on entirely separate timelines. That must be why I've not heard of your people."
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((Is Elayne from befor The Frozen?))
I scratched the underside of my eye in thought, "Perhapth thath ith thrue. Thath ith a very intheresthing hypothethith...."
After a minute, "Do you know the radius of the interdimensional effect?"
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((I don't know if she's from the same timeline, but either way, she had no reason to hear about the events that took place in The Extreme. As I recall, it was kept under wraps and was pretty insignificant to the overall war effort in the end. Also, please keep OOC comments to the OOC thread (http://animorphsforum.com/index.php?topic=6830.0). Thanks!))
"No," Elayne shakes her head. "I only arrived a few days ago, and studying a strange effect like that isn't exactly in line with my area of expertise. I'm just a mechanic now."
She stops to think before going on, "At least, I think I arrived only a few days ago. It's really hard to tell." She smirks. "I've been ripped into a different timeline and back since then, and time is pretty fluid here, anyway."
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Corliss glances at Terenia, then looks sharply back at Salem.
"We aren't trading partners," he snaps. "And at this rate I don't reckon your odds of becoming one are great. If you won't be forthcoming with the name of who hired you, then I suggest you get off of my ship and out of my sight. Now."
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The Taxxon was so relieved. He didn't have to cope with the silence for much longer. He was uncomfortable in the bar, so he left and waited a short distance from the front door. He managed to not destroy it this time.
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"No," Elayne shakes her head. "I only arrived a few days ago, and studying a strange effect like that isn't exactly in line with my area of expertise. I'm just a mechanic now."
She stops to think before going on, "At least, I think I arrived only a few days ago. It's really hard to tell." She smirks. "I've been ripped into a different timeline and back since then, and time is pretty fluid here, anyway."
I nodded, "I thee. Vhat vas your hardesth job in your life?"
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Mar twitches, trying to hear what Ossanlin made out. The trouble is that his mostly human senses are considerably worse those of Ossanlin. His guess is that this is due to some evolutionary peculiarity, but it doesn't matter either way. He cannot hear whatever Ossanlin heard. However, that doesn't necessarily mean he detects nothing.
Mar grasps at the air with his right hand, as if testing it. He frowns, disturbed. "...I think that another aura is closer to us than it should be. The problem is that there are multiple spirits present at the Bar by default, and many mortals. My detection rate is not as strong in this body as it is elsewhere. But it seems too nearby."
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Ossanlin stops moving, scanning the trees around Mar and himself. He sees no one on the ground around them. Strange... <<I do not detect anyone either...but I could've sworn...>> The voice echoes louder this time and it is umistakable. Ossanlin looks at Mar again. <<You must've heard that.>>
Ossanlin scans again. <I apologize, whomever you are, but I do not generally make a habit of conversing with those I do not see.> A wideband comment to the forest at large.
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Okaru sighed, true enough words they were. He was the same way...
So completely soundless, he jumped down and landed a couple yards away.
''I am Okaru the Battousai. I was hired to find an Andalite name Ossanlin.'' He called across the space.
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Elayne snorts and compresses her lips tightly. "A job I'd rather not talk about," she says, then waves a hand. "Not to be rude or anything."
She leans back against her chair, re-folding her arms and glancing at Trey.
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Mar frowns and whips his head around toward the landing figure. He reaches at his side for what he believes should be there, but realizes that when he entered the Bar he had no reason to form his weapon. The figure ahead of him is distant enough that he can't completely make him out.
Mar then turns to Ossanlin with some confusion and states, "....hmn. I know multiple languages. I believe he is saying that he is some kind of swordsman. You are hardly imprecise with blade arts yourself. Do you know what this figure could want with you? It is...terribly rude of him to follow you here and intrude upon our business."
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Salem raised one hand a little higher in response to Terenia's comment, "Ah... a good businessman should know better. I'm still kind of new to the whole trading circuit. The 'good businessman' thing is something I have to work at."
When Corliss snapped at him, Salem looked right at him and grinned, "Still convinced I must have been hired to walk over here and be detected and caught in the act of hacking your ship? I didn't have to be overt, Yeerk. If there were money involved, you would never have seen me. I'm capable of doing these things myself. I was trying to find you." When Corliss suggested he leave, Salem began walking towards the door, still smirking, and still talking, "Gone, dude, gone." He inched his way past the two Yeerks, and as he made his way by Corliss, he muttered, "If I were you, though, I'd rather have me on your side."
He didn't lower his hands until he was outside the ship. Once he was, he turned to Illim, gave a little 'salute,' and made his way towards his own ship. The ramp opened as he approached it. Salem walked confidently up the ramp and onto the ship, the ramp shutting behind him.
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Ossanlin frowns as his stalk eye catches the movement from the trees. He turns to regard the strange human with his main eyes, his tail swishing back and forth. <No I have no idea as to why he is here, Mar. I have never met this man in my life.>
<Hello Okaru. You were hired to find someone? For what reason?> Ossanlin looks questioningly at the strange human, regarding the blade at his side and noting the similarity in size and shape to his own dual katanas.
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''Please answer my question. I will then answer your own. Are you Ossanlin?'' There was an ultrasoft shink sound, as Okaru pushed the blade out of its sheath slightly.
If this is not ossanlin I will end his life with the Ken Zitzui...He thought slowly lowering himself into position.
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Ossanlin grimaces before backing a few steps away, allowing his own hands to cross in front of his abdomen, hands resting on his katana hilts. <I have no quarrel with you stranger. There is a social establishment a short distance in that direction...they serve, amongst other things, alcoholic beverages. If you would like to speak, you may go there and request a drink upon my tab. When I am done feeding, I will join you and we can discuss whatever it is you are here to do.> Ossanlin's tail arches into a ready position, switching back and forth ever so slightly.
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Corliss watches Salem leave, glaring, and only lowers his weapon when Salem is out of sight.
"Bloody hell," he exhales, stepping over to the navigational controls and firing up a list of the last entered commands. He watches the characters and alerts scroll by, frowning.
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Okaru called out, ''Ken Zetzui!'' And activated the attack to vanish from sight to reappear half a second later standing up straight, in a relaxed manner...
..Slowly several trees near him fell over.
Panting he called out, ''The Ken Zetzui is known by all weilders of the blade as the hardest attack to master. I mastered it in 3 years. I only have one more left in me but I would imagine it enough to finish you both. Now I ask again. Are you Ossanlin?''
The sweat could be seen dripping from his body and his muscles shook from the extreme use.
The Ken Zetzui is an attack where the user pushes all of their chi into 3 powerful slices, their chi comes back within seconds, but their body is still severly drained.
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Illim raises an eyebrow at Salem's gesture, then rolls his eyes and heads up the ramp into the Skimmer. "So... what the hell was that all about?" he asks, folding his arms and leaning against the hull. He watches Corliss and the console behind him, although he isn't able to see much from where he stands.
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Terenia lowers her own weapon, realizing that her hands had been shaking slightly. Relieved she slumps back against the wall of the Skimmer, her eyes on Corliss as he examines the ship. When Illim enters she offers him a sarcastic smile.
"Oh, the usual."
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"Bastard hacked in," Corliss says fervently, "though he'd deny it to the end, if his little song and dance was any indication."
He stands back from the screen, crossing his arms. "No lasting harm done, we can be thankful for that at least." Glancing back at the others, he adds, "I do wonder who asked him to do it. You'll try and find out, won't you? Mike can come along, if he likes, but a promise is a promise. Just lock up the ship after I leave Serid, will you? If someone was in here looking to nick into a rebel computer, I'd hate to think what he'd do with little old me."
He smiles blandly, turning back to the computer to ensure it's properly locked.
Mike guffaws. <<It's your own stupid fault 'e got in, ya nut,>> he says in reply to Corliss, though only Terenia can hear him.
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Ossanlin tracks Okaru with his senses, his eyes moving as the human directs large amounts of energy into a few trees near the edge of the clearing and determines that the movement would most certainly be too fast for a 'normal' being...not to mention too fast for a 'normal' being to track, luckily Ossanlin isn't 'normal'.
Ossanlin tracks Okaru back to his origin point. To a being without his abilities, it would look as though Okaru had vanished for a moment and re-appeared, the trees falling of their own accord. Quite fast indeed, but not too fast for Ossanlin to follow. <You should really learn to be more sociable sir Okaru. This is a place to relax, not fight. I entreat you to relax awhile and we can speak of Ossanlin later. I give you my word that I will return to the establishment once I am done feeding.> Ossanlin eases the katana in their saiya.
He directs a private thought to Mar. <<Did you see his movements? He is fast...I may need to ascend if he decides to attack us...would you be able to support my ascended form for a time if necessary?>>
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Okaru slowly caught his breath, ''So you know of Ossanlin then...''
He stared at them both, contemplating his words for a moment...then nodded and flew into the air, where he quickly hopped from tree top to tree top as fast as possible.
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<<I appreciate your willingness to cooperate,>> Serid tells Corliss, although his voice sound a bit taut. It should be no secret to Corliss that he has outstayed his welcome, but Serid feels he has been generous with not showing even more displeasure at the situation.
Illim snorts a laugh. "And people call us slimy." He pushes off the wall and takes a few steps forward, suddenly looking less jovial. "Hey Corliss, so now that you know my story, will you really be willing to support my case before your leaders? I'd... appreciate your backing. If Myitt was that tough on me, I'm guessing whoever's in charge of her will be even more so."
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Satisfied with the computer's secure lockdown, he turns to Illim, looking the Controller up and down.
"Well, Serid seems to think you're all right, and that's saying something coming from a host," he says. "An Andalite host, at that. I reckon you have potential, and you certainly have guts, doing what you did. You'll have to be under a sort of observatory quarantine, it's nothing you'll notice, and you won't know how long it'll go on for. It's just a precaution. But...I'll send a message to Reven letting him know I've got another potential recruit."
He can't help but laugh softly. "You're lucky, mate. Myitt might've chewed you out, and I might've had to sift through your host's memories to gain a bit of appreciation for your efforts, but you've been in touch with two of the siblings of the unofficial leader of the rebellion. That tends to help a bit, you know."
Corliss sighs, looking at his new allies, lingering on Terenia within the body of his human friend. He grins. "Don't worry, Mike. I know what you're thinking. I'm not likely to start making eyes at you," he says slyly. "Though he is rather dashing, when he shaves and cleans up."
With a wink at Terenia he heads toward the back of the cabin, disappearing through the doorway to the pool room, which is still warm and humid from the running Kandrona.
<<That's not what I was thinking,>> Mike lies awkwardly. <<It's just...it's so...it's bloody weird, you know! Him being everything at once. You being...me. He was the one doing the staring...>> His tone tapers into a sulk.
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"Oh yeah?" Illim asks, his eyebrows raising. The news of Corliss and Myitt's relation to the leader is news to him. "Well thanks, Corliss. Just let me know what to do. I'm ready to go when you are." Assuming Derrel doesn't have other thoughts he thinks to himself, although the gist of the thought leaks through to his host.
Then his mouth snaps shut as Corliss speaks again, and he finds himself actually uncomfortable at the unintentional intrusion. The Hork-Bajir had been right. They really did have... something. Interesting.
Serid shifts uncomfortably in his mental lock-up. <<I would prefer it if you did not use my body for oggling,>> he tells Corliss. <<It is strange to me that you would even find him attractive, but I certainly have never had much interest in such frivolities.>> Of course, a quick look into Serid's memories tell another story, but it's true, at least as long as he's been a nothlit.
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Corliss nods at Illim as he disappears through the door.
<<Tell him he's kissing a bit of arse,>> Corliss says flatly. <<I reckon he'll understand what it means, if you don't.>>
He steps up to the pool, hanging on to the metal edge and gazing down at the warm and murky water.
"Back to the old homestead," he sighs, leaning over the edge and tilting Serid's head to the side. <<Thank you, again, Serid. I apologize for the intrusion, and I hope that you find...everything that you're looking for.>>
With that, he disengages from Serid's mind, slowly slithering out of the nothlit's head.
Corliss lands in the pool with a splash, stretching and sinking in on himself into his normal, slug-like shape and shooting squidlike away from the edge.
-
Ossanlin ****s his head as the human called Okaru leaves as abruptly as he'd arrived. <That was decidedly...odd.> Ossanlin glances at Mar after the fast human leaves his sight. <He was hired to find me...and he seemed ready to be violent.> Ossanlin pushes his katana back into their saiya, small 'clinks' echoing from each as they settle. <What do you make of it Mar?> Ossanlin has some rather unsavory thoughts on the subject, but wants to hear a second opinion.
-
Mar frowns, glancing about the clearing. He was actually able to follow the figure's movements to some extent, although they were incredibly fast. Although most of Mar's body was human, there were a few...odd elements. It would not be an easy battle for Ossanlin and himself to fight. Especially since he wasn't certain of exactly how to fight in the mortal form. Most of his normal attacks were impossible in this state.
"I think that...that this character was rather like Keshin," states Mar, uncertain. His hand grips his chin. "He seemed intent on threatening us, despite having no particular grudge. More specifically, threatening you. His behavior does not make sense in any other context. I do not know what this means, but it isn't good. What did you glean from the event?"
-
Okaru quickly found himself ontop of the bar looking at the sky, standing still as a statue at the edge of the roof.
-
Terenia shifts back to a full standing position, following Corliss into the pool room. She watches from the doorway as he frees his host, returning to the muck. With an internal sigh, Terenia approaches the lip of the pool and looks down, ignoring Serid.
<<We never took care of Efaen,>> she tells Mike. <<If it even was her that blew up my ship. She needs to be stopped before she causes more damage.>> Terenia tries to access the fury that she had felt upon seeing the smoldering wreck that was her ship, but the bulk of it seems to have faded. Too much has transpired since then; her emotions have been yanked too many directions and too much drama has occurred. She glances up at Serid, then back to Illim.
<<Corliss may trust them, but I do not know if I do. They are strangers. I'm not sure I feel comfortable leaving you momentarily helpless with these two aboard the ship. Especially when one is armed.>>
-
Serid straightens and wipes his ear clean, giving Terenia an impassive stare.
Finding the silence uncomfortable, Illim drums his fingers on his arm for a moment and then lets them uncross, dropping to his sides. "I reckon we should be going now, hm, Serid?" He beckons to the nothlit.
Serid turns his dark eyes on Illim and, for the first time the Yeerk can see how tired his former host looks. "Yes," Serid answers curtly and bypasses Terenia without so much as a nod.
Illim waits until Serid is walking off the ramp before he addresses Terenia. "See you soon," he says with a brief wave, followed by a somewhat sheepish smile. "Do, uh, do ask Corliss to find me before you leave, yeah?"
-
<<Yeah, um,>> Mike stammers. <<Well. You...don't have to leave? At least, not until they've gone. Unless you want to stay. A bit. Longer, you know.>>
Even after all this time, it was strange how he could mentally feel anxious but feel his body remain completely calm.
-
"He'll know," Terenia says to Illim shortly, not wanting to explain in more detail. She watches him out of the corner of her eye, ensuring that he is in fact leaving the ship.
Terenia bites her lip, an old habit from her own human body that Mike certainly does not share. She definitely does not want to return to the dark silence that is her 'natural' form, but she is sure that Corliss is eager to have control of his usual body.
<<I just feel so...helpless down there...>> she mutters, staring at the sludgy water. With a sigh she checks to see that the device that allows Corliss to communicate is still activated.
"So..." she says out loud, "I guess it's time to give you Mike back, eh?" She sighs, flexing her hands around the edge of the pool. Now that the pandemonium has settled she is reminded of the weighty decision facing her. I could be free of that sludge forever. Not that I deserve it.
-
"...It worked? That actually worked?"
<<It would seem so. As crazy as it was, you actually managed to get us somewhere, Jasper.>>
"I just can't believe it! This has to be the funniest thing ever!"
<<It is rather ironic, isn't it? Let's not start celebrating quite yet though. We still have to somehow land there without burning and dying.>>
"Right, right. Of course. ...How do I do that?" Jasper said, suddenly aware that he had no clue what he was doing. Again.
<<Maybe I should handle this part....>> With that, Sapttus 2911 took up control from Jasper, and interfaced with the navigation system. "Make sure you watch how I do this though... not that you have much choice about it. <<Haha, you're funny.>> Jasper replied sarcastically. He watched through his eyes while Sapttus maneuvered the stolen Bug Fighter in a decent descent towards the asteroid. Both of them were rather impressed with his landing, considering the Yeerk had only the most basic training in regards to the mental interface that provided control of the ship, and the human had none whatsoever. The thought-command system was somewhat similar to the equipment he used for his assignments on Earth, but they were vastly different at the same time.
After landing, and a bit of arguing with the system, Sapttus managed to pull up scanners for the ship. During descent, they'd noticed several ships - some seemingly operable, some obviously not - all clustered nearby a run-down building. The ship's scanners seemed to indicate that there were indeed other lifeforms here, though he could hardly imagine what they might be. He did recognize at least one other Bug Fighter, however, so that gave him a glimmer of hope to the inhabitants being non-hostile to people of their kinds.
<<Think it's worth a shot?>>
"Probably not. But due to the sheer fact that your method of escape actually ended up with us arriving somewhere, I figure we could at least have a look around."
Before disembarking, Jasper slung his black laptop bag over his shoulder, adjusted the wait, and pulled out his hot red sunglasses. <<What is it with you and those glasses?>> "What? I've got taste!" <<You're a nut. Just lock the ship, would you?>> "Well, yeah, of course. Give me a sec." After double checking on their much-valued cargo, they exited the ship, with the ramp receding behind them.
"This should be fun...."
-
<<With all that's happened to you lately, I'd hate to see you left here alone as much as I'd hate to see the same for Corliss,>> Mike says sullenly. <<I don't trust half the lot out there. Perhaps you can stay with me for a while longer? How long did Ossanlin say he'd need to-->>
Corliss' replicated voice echoes in Mike's head.
<Is it that time already?> he asks demurely.
-
"I don't know," Terenia says indecisively. Her own desire to retain human senses coupled with Mike's hesitance is making the decision harder than it should be.
"Corliss," she says, deciding to avoid the issue for the moment and tackle a much more important one. "What should I do? I mean, if Ossanlin is telling the truth and can really...you know..." She trails off, uncertain. She is having a hard time vocalizing her thoughts and feelings.
<<Argh, Mike, help me,>> she pleads. She then lifts the mental wall she has erected between them just enough for him to get a glimpse into her emotional turmoil. She pushes specific memories to the forefront of his mind; her last moments of true humanity, her joy the first time that she was able to morph her old human form with Efaen's body and Tamora's DNA, the terrible moment not more than a few days ago when the morphing ability saved her life after her arm was caught in Keshin's Dracon. Intertwined with her desire for humanity is something else; something she has not been able to entirely identify on her own. It is a sort of desperate need for the white noise that comes from relying on human, Andalite and Yeerk instincts alongside those of her morphs. It is a fear of the emptiness that comes along with leaving a host.
Though Terenia has not been able to pinpoint it herself, if Mike looks hard enough he can easily see her terrible, overwhelming fear of silence.
Reluctantly, Terenia relinquishes control over Mike, hoping that he will do a better job of articulating her situation to Corliss.
-
Mike blinks, lurching a bit and gripping tightly onto the edge of the pool as he regains his footing.
"Corliss, it's me, mate," he says, gazing down at the gray sludge. "I reckon what she's trying to say is..." He sucks in a breath. "She's afraid of being alone. In her head. The total silence of it, the inability to morph and connect with another mind. I mean, she's really afraid it will wreck her up, you know?"
After a short delay, Corliss replies, <But how can we possibly solve that problem? Terenia, do you wish to become a voluntary host if you regain your human body? Or...you can't seriously be considering dragging Efaen back into this?>
-
"I don't know," Terenia says, seizing control again. This time she sounds angry rather than indecisive. "I'm not going to be a voluntary, though, that's for sure. I've never been a host and really don't intend on giving someone else control of my body. No offense, Mike..." She shakes her head, trying to clear it.
"Efaen is..." she grits her teeth, really disliking the words that are about to come out of her mouth. "I need her."
-
<<No worries,>> Mike whispers, watching curiously as Terenia's anger flares. For a moment he's...what?
Afraid?
<I'm not sure Reven will agree to allow the Andalite girl to live amongst us,> Corliss says in a rational tone. <Terenia, she's sworn to destroy us rather than work with us. How can you both possibly join us, unless she's shackled down and kept under constant surveillance when you're not within her? That's no life, not even for the likes of her.>
-
"I don't care," Terenia says roughly. "She's not as dangerous as she pretends to be. She's just...deluded. The only realy time she's spent with Yeerks before this place has been on Visser Three's Blade Ship; that isn't exactly the sort of place that goes far in disproving Andalite propaganda."
She pushes away from the pool, pacing the small room as her own frustration grows. "I know it's a long shot, but what other choice do I have? Like I said before, no one will want me as their Yeerk. No one. I can't spend the rest of my life stuck in a stupid pool and if I let Ossanlin work his voodoo magic who knows what could happen? I could end up with three arms or something. At least with Efaen I know what I'm getting myself into."
-
<I can try and ask him again, but Terenia, he's very busy. If I know my brother, he could be liable to give up on both of you, if we can't make up our minds or keep pleading one way or another,> Corliss says wearily. <Although whatever Ossanlin has in mind also concerns me, in terms of your well being. I don't know what sort of technology or powers he and Mar have, but to be honest, they aren't normal, and the thought of something happening to you...I'm just concerned.>
-
"Well what do you think I should do then? Go to the rebellion in a tupperware and take my chances that someday there might be someone crazy enough to want me for a host?" She slams her left fist against the wall, needing to expel some of her anger. "You're right, this is stupid. I can't be bothering your brother with every little problem of mine. I'm not even in the rebellion yet and look at how much trouble I've caused. This was a stupid idea from the start."
Her voice chokes slightly and she glances down at the Dracon that is still being held loosely in her right hand. Maybe...
-
<<Terenia, don't be an idiot,>> Mike snaps. <<Whatever you're thinking, going into it with a gun isn't going to work!>>
<Look. Terenia. If we can convince Efaen that she'd live a worthy life in the rebellion...and if she can convince me that she won't kill us all on some purifying rampage, then perhaps we can consider her. Consider it, it's not a promise.> Corliss sighs mentally. <But how can we possibly change her mind, and change Reven's?>
He doesn't voice his own revulsion at the Andalite's bigoted, sanctimonious demeanor, although his slimy flesh practically crawls with the thought of Efaen joining the rebellion.
-
<I have my thoughts...> Ossanlin turns back away from the bar and begins walking again, absorbing nutrients from the crushed grass. <He said he was hired to find me. That could imply many things, not the least of which that it's not him that's looking for me. He must be a mercenary of some sort. He was very aggressive and rather powerful, especially for a human. He called himself a Battousai...I do not know the meaning of this word in truth. It would be clear could we but decipher the meaning of that word.>
Ossanlin takes a deep breath before continuing. <But to simply surmise from what we know...I must assume he has been hired to dispatch me. I have many enemies, some rather powerful, rich, or both. He seems to be skilled at fighting...when money and martial ability are combined, the logical assumption is assassination.> Ossanlin's tone of thought remains neutral, as if this is nothing out of the ordinary. <I will speak with him in the bar. Perhaps I can learn some things before he makes an attempt upon my life. He does not know I am his target, and that gives me a small margin of leeway. Perhaps I can at least glean the identity of his employer before I reveal my identity.>
-
"I don't know, but I know that she won't be happy on that stupid Dome Ship of Ossanlin's," Terenia says. "I don't care what he says, she isn't going to be seeing the brunt of this war for a long time and that'll drive her crazy. She hates the Yeerks, but she hates not having a part to play more. She needs to realize that she needs me as much as I need her. I just don't see how that's possible, though. She's so...ugh."
-
<Perhaps if she can be quarantined, convinced that we're allies and not enemies,> Corliss says thoughtfully. His tone turns flat. <Although even then, how can we trust her not to turn on us? To be the Andalite that destroyed the lying pack of slugs who claimed to be allies of the People?> He pauses, waiting for that to sink in. <Do you think we'll be able to trust her, after everything she's done to you?>
-
"If she's my host then I can alert you guys if she's planning anything or starting to change her mind," Terenia says. "She won't hurt you guys, though. Not if she thinks that hurting you will hurt her in the long run. I think."
Terenia stops pacing to look back down at the sludgy pool. "Can we do that, though? Quarantine Efaen without having half the bar on our heels? Temrash and Ossanlin both seem to be rather adamant about keeping the two of us separate."
-
<Well, I meant quarantine her at the base,> Corliss says thoughtfully. <If we can manage to lure her back to the Skimmer, it's possible we could sit her down, so to speak, for a rational conversation.>
<<Yeah, and whose heads will go bloody rolling across the floor?>> Mike replies. <<Terenia, tell him he's just asking for trouble. Don't you think so? I don't like the idea of cooping her up in here. If we want to talk to her, talk to her on her own terms. Someplace open, where she feels safe.>>
-
"She won't listen to me," Terenia says to both Corliss and Mike. "Trust me, I've tried. It doesn't matter how many memories I show her, she thinks that because I am a human I don't know or understand anything."
"This is hopeless, isn't it?" she says dully, reholstering the Dracon Beam as her mood plummets once more. "I just need to accept the fact that I'm stuck. Efaen will go off and get herself killed trying to be a hero and I'm doomed to spend the rest of my life afraid someone will dump too much salt on me."
-
Now off the ship, Illim follows Serid through the ship yard until he realizes they're not heading back to the Bar. "Where are you going?" he asks.
Serid turns his head but does not stop walking. "I am going to sleep on the Madra for a time. Please wake me if War Prince Ossanlin attempts to leave without me."
"Oh, right," Illim nods, stopping on the rough gravel. "Yeah. Sleep tight," he says with a small smirk, and then heads towards the building to wait for Corliss or Terenia's call.
<<I guess that didn't go so bad,>> he murmurs to Derrel. <<I'm optimistic they'll actually accept us into the rebellion.>>
-
<Yeah. It looks like things may work out. I guess we learned a valuable lesson about locking up after you leave the ship. House too, as the case may be.> Derrel said.
Claxter returned to the gun he used to imprison Theta, which he had left at the bar. He wondered how long he should wait until talking to Prince Ossanlin about it. In the meantime, he remained near Efaen, acting casual. If he didn't have anywhere else he needed to be, he enjoyed being near her.
-
Bbbccchhhtttzzz!!!
The Hypostore gun almost shorted out. Quantum particles were hard enough to store. The quantum particles of a sapient creature, especially one with cybernetic implants that were constantly trying to communicate with the rest of the crew, were beginning to stress the Hypostore's hold.
-
Claxter began examining the gun. <That didn't sound good. I'm afraid I may be running out of time with this thing. Hmm. Efaen, can you come with me to my ship? There's something I need to do, and I may require assistance.>
-
Corliss laughs, not unpleasantly. <Don't worry, we'll make sure that doesn't happen to you, at least,> he says genially. <As for Efaen, it may not yet be hopeless. It's going to be an uphill battle, but it's not hopeless. You just have to prepare yourself if it doesn't work. At least you'll have a place to live that's relatively safe, yeah?>
<<He's so cute when he uses my turn of phrase,>> Mike says, fondly.
-
Now off the ship, Illim follows Serid through the ship yard until he realizes they're not heading back to the Bar. "Where are you going?" he asks.
Serid turns his head but does not stop walking. "I am going to sleep on the Madra for a time. Please wake me if War Prince Ossanlin attempts to leave without me."
"Oh, right," Illim nods, stopping on the rough gravel. "Yeah. Sleep tight," he says with a small smirk, and then heads towards the building to wait for Corliss or Terenia's call.
<<I guess that didn't go so bad,>> he murmurs to Derrel. <<I'm optimistic they'll actually accept us into the rebellion.>>
Jasper walks slowly through the shipyard, weaving his way towards the shack, or whatever that sad excuse for a building was. After turning a corner, they see two men walking and talking.
"Hey, it looks like you were right, buddy. There are people here. Like, people people."
<<That's good. What are they saying?>>
"Like I'd be able to hear it any better than you? I think that one there is going over to that building we saw earlier. Do we want to follow him?"
<<Sounds like a plan. Let's just hope he doesn't mind being followed.>>
"Good point. So, uh... follow, or no?" Jasper asks, speaking softly.
"Hello? Sir?" Sapttus calls out, making sure to be clearly visible, with his hands in plain sight. Hopefully, this guy would know something about where they were. And hopefully, he wouldn't pull out a gun.
-
((so tempted to rejoin this... but what character should i create?))
-
<Very well,> Efaen says, glancing at the device that Claxter is holding. She is curious, but not enough so that she asks questions. Her mind is on other tasks. Ossanlin has been absent for some time now, and that concerns her. It is difficult to spy on one who is not present.
"Safe," Terenia repeats. "Yeah." She isn't entirely sure how she feels about that verdict. She has no desire to be a war hero; she isn't Efaen, but at the same time she doesn't want to be put entirely on the sidelines either.
<<Strange, considering I don't have anything left to fight for,>> she says silently.
"Alright," Terenia inhales deeply, gathering herself. "So now what? Track down Efaen and ask her to pretty please have a conversation with me that doesn't end with Mike's head rolling across the grass?"
-
Illim stops at hearing a voice, wondering for half a second if it's Corliss. Sir, he thinks. Now there's something I haven't heard in a while. When he turns, though, he sees a complete stranger approaching him. He instantly starts attempting to catalog what he potentially could be--Imperial, Peace Movement, unfortunate bystander like Derrel. The last seems the least likely. He instinctively checks the Dracon holder at his waist, but Serid has the weapon now.
<<Great. More interaction. More secrets,>> he mutters to Derrel. <<I'm so ready to be in the rebellion where I can live day-to-day being me, for once.>>
Despite his inward irritation, he puts on a pleasantly interested smile and heads towards the man. "Hey there."
-
<Thank you.> Claxter said, and started out towards his ship. On his way there, he explained what was going on. About Theta, the hyperstore, and Theta's attempts to assimilate everyone. <I wanted to inform Prince Ossanlin, but I think this machine is starting to short out. The best thing I can think of is to put Theta in a storage room of my ship. If we can hold him there, hopefully we can free the trapped Andalite from control.>
-
Mar nods slowly and stands next to Ossanlin. The fact that he's only about two-thirds or even half the Andalite's height strikes him, but it's not surprising. They were always a rather large species.
He eventually says with a worried look, "...I cannot let you go alone. If that being intends to kill you, I will try to assist you in the fight. I only have movement and communication spells available to me, but I may be able to make something of these. You've come very close to death in this awful place many times. It would be unfair to allow it to happen again."
-
Okaru turned and dropped from the roof of the bar and walked inside. He ordered a small bottle of wine and took his seat in the corner of the room.
He didnt drink often but when he did his wine was the preffered drink.
-
"You don't know how glad I am to see people here." Sapttus said with a visible sigh of relief. He gestured back towards his ship. "I just popped out of Z-space and happened to come across this lovely little establishment."
<<So which one of us popped out of Z-Space?>> Jasper said jokingly.
<<You did. We can tell him later that we're together, assuming it wouldn't scare him off. Now shut up.>>
<<Fine, fine...>>
"Quite frankly though... I have no earthly idea where this is. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this place, would you?" Sapttus said, removing Jasper's glasses. <<I hate these glasses...>> "I'm assuming we aren't the only ones here...."
-
"That's your ship?" Illim inquires with interest, glancing towards where the newcomer gestures.
The thought, however, abruptly triggers panic in the Yeerk. "****!" he curses. "Hang on-- I'll just be-- You can come if..." Without bothering to finish any of his sentences, he darts away in the direction he had last seen Serid go.
The mention of a ship had reminded Illim that the Gleet Biofilter on the Madra is still activated, and if Serid tries to pass through it... It would not end well now that Serid is free. Usually, Illim would not doubt Serid's clear thinking, but the Andalite had been a host for so long and he is now so tired, that he could easily be walking into a death trap.
His worries send him sprinting through the ship yard, kicking up gravel as he runs. He doesn't check to see if the newcomer is following him out of concern or curiosity--or if he is even following at all. <<He can chalk it up to another weirdo at the Bar, I guess,>> he thinks, panting.
-
Ossanlin nods as he makes his way toward the lake. He reaches the shore and dips a hoof in. He purposely does not look towards Tamora's grave which was probably only a half-mile away across a bit of water.
The cool water rushing up his leg feels incredibly refreshing. He looks up toward the sky, the slight breeze across his face adding to the refreshing effects of the water. <I appreciate your assistance my friend. It may be necessary for me to ascend in order to match him. I do not yet have enough of an energy reserve to do so for more than a minute or so, and doing that would most-likely cause me to lose consciousness yet again. He has come at an...inopportune time.>
Ossanlin finishes his drink of water, turning back toward the bar, still absorbing some nutrients as he walks. <I suppose we'd best not keep him waiting, he didn't appear to be the patient type.>
-
Efaen absorbs Claxter's story with somewhat less surprise than she would have upon arrival in the bar, but the idea of an Andalite being...assimilated...makes her fur stand on end. At least with Terenia I still had control over my thoughts, Efaen finds herself thinking. She quickly redirects those thoughts, though, not wanting to give Terenia any allowances.
Efaen is about to offer a response when her thoughts are interrupted by a series of shouts that seemed to be coming from nearby.
<Did you hear that?> Efaen asks, stopping short. She listens intently, clearly making out the sound of heavy feet on gravel. Running, but slowly by Andalite standards. If there is trouble, Ossanlin may be nearby... she realizes, glancing at Claxter.
<Excuse me,> Efaen says abruptly. <I will assist you shortly, but first I believe it necessary to determine the source of such a panic. You should continue on to your ship and ensure that this 'Theta' is kept safe.>
Efaen does not wait for Claxter to answer, breaking instead into a gentle trot in the direction of the commotion.
-
Okaru set his sword along the length of his table, and poured himself some wine.
He took a big drink, and turned his eyes to the roof.
-
<Take care.> Claxter said. He headed to the ship, since he didn't know how much time he still had. Once inside he cleared out a room that was large enough for an adult Andalite to stand comfortably. He set up some shredders on stun that would fire if he tried to leave the room, and worked the machine to try to get it to let him out.
-
<Yes, please don't allow her to remove Mike's head from his body,> Corliss says dully. <I don't believe he would appreciate it. Nor would I.>
<<If you reckon it's the only way,>> Mike says, sounding disappointed. <<I just hope this is the best choice, for you and for the rebellion.>>
And no, he thinks irritatedly, I don't care what's best for Efaen.
-
"Serid! Serid!" Illim shouts as he veers around another ship. <<Dammit, thought speech would be really useful about now,>> he mutters. <<I've had enough running for the day!>>
Serid barely covers a yawn as he makes his way towards the Madra. The shiny, petite ship comes into view just as he hears someone shouting his name. The voice sounds familiar:his Yeerk's new host. <Illim?> he calls in open thought speech, pausing his stride.
-
Efaen trots around the hull of a half disintegrated Skrit Na ship and sees an unfamiliar human running at what for him must have been an incredible speed. Another human appears to be slightly behind him, also unfamiliar. Her first instinct is to stop and turn around. "Human" had a tendency to mean "Yeerk" in this place and Efaen had no interest in helping their kind. Of course, Efaen reasons. If I appear amiable to assisting the humans it may allow me favor in Ossanlin's view. That would work to my advantage.
<Do you require assistance?> Efaen asks Illim in open thought-speech, catching up to him with relative ease.
-
Derrel felt Illim's worry, though he wasn't sure what the panic was about. He heard thought speech, but couldn't turn his head and didn't recognize the voice.
-
Startled by a second, new voice in his head, Illim frowns and turns around, in accordance with Derrel's wishes. "Who are--?" he blinks in surprise at the Andalite. Still huffing for breath, he murmurs, "Pardon me, just a sec," and trots the rest of the distance to Serid, who is watching him--and Efaen even more--with sleepy interest.
"Serid, don't go in there. The uh... you know, the... alarm system," Illim says lamely, not wanting to overtly give away the fact he's a Yeerk to this seemingly helpful Andalite. Fortunately, the Madra is not a common enough design that they just might be able to pull it off.
"Oh," Serid's eyes fix on Illim and widen, and he nods slowly. "Yes, thank you." He looks towards the ship for a moment before returning his attention to the Yeerk. "Who is your friend?"
-
Claxter's efforts are fruitless, but do not go unrewarded. The hypogun finally malfunctions. And spits up it's contents.
BZzzzooouu! Ccchhhtttz!
Theta-Pi appeared amidst a mess of small, stray metallic parts. He immediately looked up. His four eyes locked on Claxter.
We resumed a conscious existence exactly 0.0047 seconds aftEr we were reverted from our quantum state. Our head snapped up. We saw the Andalite from previously, and focused our eyes on him. Our sensors did not detect anyone else within the vicinity.
We shifted our stalk-eyes to get a visual of the surrounding area. We then refocused on Claxter-Karmesh-Sinopul.
Karmesh?
We readied our SION claws, and put our other hand on the Quantryon weapon.
<Andalite. You trapped us in the Hypostore gun. There is no mistaking this for an accidental action. You purposely meant to trap us to hinder our repair and assimilation efforts. You will be assimilated.>
We contacted the mini-collective on the Transport. We ordered 10 units to my location.
<Even now our inferiors are on their way to put an end to this...charade we believe is the term the humans use.>, we unholstered our Quantryon emitter and aimed it at one automated shredder. We focused the SION claws, on pulse mode, on the other, <Give yourself to us. Be assimilated, or be eliminated.>
-
"That's your ship?" Illim inquires with interest, glancing towards where the newcomer gestures.
The thought, however, abruptly triggers panic in the Yeerk. "****!" he curses. "Hang on-- I'll just be-- You can come if..." Without bothering to finish any of his sentences, he darts away in the direction he had last seen Serid go.
The mention of a ship had reminded Illim that the Gleet Biofilter on the Madra is still activated, and if Serid tries to pass through it... It would not end well now that Serid is free. Usually, Illim would not doubt Serid's clear thinking, but the Andalite had been a host for so long and he is now so tired, that he could easily be walking into a death trap.
His worries send him sprinting through the ship yard, kicking up gravel as he runs. He doesn't check to see if the newcomer is following him out of concern or curiosity--or if he is even following at all. <<He can chalk it up to another weirdo at the Bar, I guess,>> he thinks, panting.
"Oh, well. Nice meeting you...."
<<Well at least he didn't shoot us.>>
<<I guess we should be glad then. Odd fellow.>>
<<...I'm not British, so stop talking British.>> Jasper said.
"You know you're annoying right?" Sapttus said.
<<Yep.>> "So now what?"
"I'm not sure, really. Maybe... we let him handle his business by himself."
<< I guess you're right. He might not like us intruding after all.>>
That said, they turned to walked through the junkyard in a different direction, when an Andalite jumped out of no where. "GAA-AAH!" They both shouted. <<Andalite!!!>> was what Sapttus was trying to say, but fortunately, Jasper was able to clamp down on his vocal chords, causing the garbled exclamation. <<Chill out. It isn't going after us.>> Sapttus felt embarrassed about losing it for a second. <<Good call, Jasper.>> <<Don't worry about it.>> Jasper replied. After the Andalite turned a corner and went out of sight, their body relaxed and they continued making their way to the bar. <<There are so many ships here.>> <<You'd think you'd see more people running around here then.>> He considered picking up a piece of rusted metal, but figured that the New York thug look wouldn't be quite right for someone in his situation.
-
An andalite dome ship, not unlike the others that frequent the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar, decelerated into the docks; pulling to a slow, uncertain halt as though following a familliar path that had not been tread in quite some time. The ship ground to a stand still, resting with a low hiss as gas was released, re-pressurizing the cabin to conform to the atmosphere of the small asteroid. As the hatch on the ships anterior lowered open, the lights within dimmed as the ship shifted into low power idling mode, revealing a small silhouette standing near door.
The brown hen emerged from the ship, strutting confidently towards the bar, her neck craning as she looked about the docking yard.
The hen stopped just as she approached the bar door, unsure of how to go about opening it from such a vertically challenged position. Surely this seemed to be the strangest dream the young physicist had ever experienced.
-
Jumping from hyperspace, a rather beat up, old starship descended towards the planet known as The GESB. As the ship entered the atmosphere, the ships hull started to heat up and glow white-hot.
Alarms blaring inside the ****pit, the pilot was trying in vain to control his ship. If someone was to look up, or even outside the only building in sight, all they would see is something that resembled a flaming comet, leaving a billowing black cloud trailing behind it.
Thinking **** it, the pilot smacked his gloved fist on the button marked EJECT. The roof of the ship blowing of and falling to the ground with a resounding thud, the pilot seat launched clear of the falling ship. Reaching the peak of its ascent, the parachute billowed open, allowing a somewhat smooth ride down to the surface.
Seeing that his ship had crashed about half a mile (800 or so metres) behind the bar, the pilot guided the seat as best as he could towards the wreckage. Touching down about a quarter mile (400 or so metres) beside his ship, he unbuckled himself and started to trek towards the wreckage.
((OK, that's it for this post! I still haven't decided on a name or a description for that matter, so if some people could please investigate the crash, that would be great))
-
<I am Warrior Efaen-Purinial-Loreth,> Efaen says stiffly, eying the human on the ramp with disdain. Now that it is clear there is no imminent danger she feels a bit foolish for running off so quickly. Her stalk eyes trace her path, wondering if Claxter still requires assistance. For the time being, though, she is stuck at the very lest making rudimentary conversation. <And you are?>
Her attention is suddenly drawn from the humans by two nearly simultaneous newcomers. One ship touches down rather ordinarily; the second seems to be having more than a little difficulty. The build-up of atmospheric pressure has lit the failing ship up like a meteor, and it leaves a bright streak across the sky as it soars over the bar. Efaen follows the light with her main eyes.
<This bar tends to breed problems,> she mutters to no one in particular.
<I don't much care what's best for Efaen either,> Terenia says to Mike. <I do care about my own body though.>
"Alright, listen," Terenia says out loud, for both of their benefits. "What do you think is the best option? Should I just...go take the Andalite up on his offer? Or is it worth trying to sway Efaen? She won't be happy with Ossanlin, I know that much. Hell, she's probably already trying to find a way to sabotage him."
-
<It is true I did it on purpose. I won't allow you to assimilate anyone, and I'm going to free the Andalite you inhabit. Somehow.> He thought he had gotten rid of the drones, but his scanner showed ten coming for the ship. He didn't know if they'd even get past the shield and hull, but he wasn't too concerned. He just made sure his shields were raised.
<I had hoped to inform Prince Ossanlin of this beforehand, but apparently the hyperstore wasn't designed to hold lifeforms for very long. You have been defeated, so you may as well surrender.>
He was starting to wish he had disassembled some of Theta's ship before now, but he'd just have to go with what's at hand.
Temrash felt Morgan was a bit distracted, and knowing he had people waiting on him, he just went ahead and left. "Ok, come on." He told Tayliss. Once he was outside, he needed to decide which way to go first. He needed to tend to Iosse at the repair ship, but the repair ship didn't have a defibrillator.
"So what do you need a defibrillator for, Tayliss?"
-
Our sensors detected he raised the ships shields.
<Defeat is irrelevant. Surrender is irrelevant. We have not been outflanked. We have not been thwarted. Assimilation will take place sooner than we had originally planned. That is all.>
We pulled the trigger on the Quantryon emitter. Highly unstable, random velocity quantum particles from Z-space poured out the terminal. Quantryons. At approximately 20,000 per cubic nanometer. They would blast through essentially any alloy.
We then fired a pulse of electromagnetically charged Static Ions at the other. Ionic weapons were dangerous to any kind of mechanical parts. Static Ions, with an electromagnetic charge, are immensely useful against even large ships.
-
The first mounted shredder was destroyed, but as soon as the first shot was fired, the other mounted shredder fired before also being taken out.
<Computer! Raise supression field!> Claxter said has he drew the shredders at his side and started firing at Theta's weapons. If he could disarm the guy, things would improve. The supression field should force him onto the floor if he didn't bolt out of the room immeidately. Claxter had backed away from the door a bit for cover.
-
Mar nods toward Ossanlin and begins to take the lead out of the forest. "I didn't think he was the sort of person that aimlessly sat either. It's better to confront him then to sit and wait for him to come to us. At least, in this instance. He's predictable, but not nearly as much as my usual opponents. I can assist your ascendence, but I am not sure if I could do so in a few minutes. And that may become a problem if we enter a fight."
Mar closes his eyes and eventually states, "It was..interesting, hearing about how you and Myitt met. ...my relationship with Precious is somewhat different from your own. I have known her for longer than you have chronologically, yet you have known the Yeerk known as Myitt longer. I follow each variation passively, sometimes entering her affairs when I see fit. As far as she can tell, I am a madman with an obsession. This may be true, but the issue deals more with the perception of Time. Though I have begun to think as you do, I still remember a time when I could blink and she would be dead."
-
"I'm, uh, going," Illim says with a wan smile. "Thanks for the offer of help," he adds to the Andalite as he gives Serid a wave and turns to leave. He has a feeling he knows where this conversation is going, and he'd rather be pretty far away when his former host's species is revealed. Besides, he had abandoned the newcomer several hundred feet away, and keeping him waiting--if, in fact, he was waiting--would be rude, right?
Serid descends from the ramp and takes several steps towards Efaen. "My name is Serid." He clears his throat, debating whether or not he should proceed as he watches the new ships descend. In the end, he decides to take the risk. "Serid-Winwall-Falan." With the absence of a tail to show his Andalite pride, his back straightens and shoulders rotate back. Were he not so dirty- and tired-looking, not to mention in need of a hair comb, he might actually look dignified.
-
"I need it to free a friend from a being taking over her body," Taylis said. "She's not a Yeerk or I would have just tried to starve her."
<<A Yeerk you have been easier,>> Amy commented.
"Allegedly she can only leave her host once she's dead. A defibrillator is the best way I could think of killing her and bringing her back."
-
"And what happens afterwards?" Temrash said as he started towards the repair ship. The defibrillator plan didn't seem to need to come before tending to a Taxxon's problems. Taxxons being the impatient things they are.
"How will you keep her from returning to her host, or jumping into the nearest body immediately? We will want to think everything through."
-
The other automated shredder fired before it was destroyed by our SION pulse. It hit one of our stalk-eyes.
Then the Andalite fired his shredder. It hit my SION arm.
TTSSSAP!! it exploded.
Nanoprobes rushed up to our stalk-eye to heal it. They swam down to our missing arm and began to rebuild the SION claws. It would be fully reformed in approximately 5 hours.
In the mean time, we stepped forward and raised our weapon on the Andalite, <You are a danger to the Alvie force on this meteorite. You must be eliminated.>
Our shot went awry as we fell to the ground, hitting the wall 5 feet above Claxter. We fell to our knees.
<You have...obviously activated...some sort of gravimetric... suppression device. No matter...our units will be here soon...>
-
<I'm not afraid of your drones.> Claxter said, though it wasn't totally true. <<Efaen. The prisoner was able to contact drones within his ship, and are heading my way. I don't know how easily they can penetrate my ship, but we will want to take them down anyway. Be careful on your way back.>> He said privately. He didn't want her to be ambushed.
<Computer. Track any incoming robots and fire weapons at them.> The computer system scanned the area for them. Claxter also made sure the hatch was closed.
Claxter set out to disarm Theta as much as possible, though he noticed the nanobots rebuilding him. He didn't know how to start trying to free the Andalite, but he knew he couldn't just keep Theta penned up.
-
We sent the weapons frequency to our units. External ship weapons would assuredly be more powerful. But it would quicken the adaption speed.
Our quantryon weapon had been crushed by the gravimetric forces. It would not be useful. But we did retain the natural andalite weapon –– the cryogenically extended tail-blade. We lifted it with some effort, and brought it in front of us, <If you approach me andalite, we will use the unit's natural abilities to kill you.>
-
<<What's that sound?>>
<<I'm not...>> "What is this, rush hour?!? Sapttus, it looks like we aren't the only ones taking a vacation here."
"Apparently not."
A large ship was landing nearby, on the other side of a couple crashed ships that Sapttus could only guess the origin of, and what appeared to be a comet shot past, blazing through the atmosphere, quickly leaving his field of vision. They stopped for a moment to watch both events. <<Well, at least it won't be boring here.>> <<And that worries me.>>
-
Illim stuffs his hands in his pockets as he wanders back in the direction from which he had come--towards the place where he had met the man that he had immediately abandoned. I'm a rude son-of-a, huh? he thinks to himself with a degree of amusement.
He rounds another ship, kicking gravel as he shuffles his feet lazily. <<What a day,>> he remarks to Derrel. <<Maybe I should've gotten my Dracon back from Serid while I had the chance. But who knows, with an Andalite tail blade waving about, he probably should be the one to hang on to it for now.>>
-
<An Andalite,> Efaen says, her surprise obvious. <I apologize, I had inferred that you were a member of the Yeerk race, given your present form. Human Controllers tend to frequent this bar in larger numbers than other species.> She looks the Andalite up and down, curious. She notes that he does not preface his name with a title, indicating that he is non-military. Why he would be so far from the Homeworld and apart from the military is a mystery.
<Tell me, Serid-Winwall-Falan. Why do you assume a human guise?> She is slightly put-off by his morph, as it reminds her of Terenia's constant habit of forcing Efaen into human form.
-
"Would that I did not have to," Serid answers, taking a few steps closer so he does not strain his voice across the distance between them. "I am a nothlit." This new revelation counters what he had implied regarding his military standing by not giving a rank, as hardly any Andalites outside the military are given access to the Escafil device.
He goes on: "There is no need to apologize, Warrior Efaen-Purinial-Loreth. Your assumption was both reasonable and logical."
-
"Umm," Taylis said. "I didn't think that far ahead. I was just happy that I thought of a way to kill her without killing her. The best that I can figure is that she's some sort of ghost. She seems to have been around for a long time."
<<He has a point,>> Amy reminded. <<I don't want to become a host to her.>>
-
"While I am sympathetic to your cause, you will need to find out more about this ghost before trying to remove it. Is there any kind of expert on Earth that could give you information? The ghost isn't likely to be chatty about ways it can be defeated." Temrash said. He got to the repair ship, and went to the back to talk to the Taxxons. One of the Yeerks was willing to change hosts, and his host wouldn't mind being alone in its head for a while.
<I'd like it if we had a weapon, but he probably needs one too. Maybe we can see about getting another one somewhere, if you don't have a spare on your ship anywhere.> Derrel said.
Claxter stopped out of range of the tail. That tail was certainly dangerous, being an extended length on top of being the tail of an adult. He didn't know if it was entirely mechanical, so he didn't try blasting it off. <If you relinquish that Andalite and leave this asteroid, I'll let you go. Otherwise it will be you that is destroyed.> He doubted anything he said would convince this automaton.
-
Iosse followed Temrash, nearly right on his heels. He was fond of him, grateful for his help, and just maybe a little bit to tempted to snack on him. It was hard to resist, so hard, but he knew that if he waited....
It was quiet at this part of the shipyard. <<What are we standing here for?>> "Couldn't tell you." Jasper and Sapttus continued on their way to the bar. Jasper pulled a bottled water out of his laptop bag, and took a drink. Finally, they passed the last ship, and walked across the small clearing between the shack and the ships. He knocked on the door. Nothing. He knocked again, loudly this time. <<Maybe we should just go in?>> <<What if this is someone's house? Most people disprove of trespassing, right?>>
-
<If you simply ask Efaen whether or not she'll cooperate, and agree to live amongst us without becoming a bloody lunatic, then you'll have your answer.> Corliss swims in agitated, wide circles near the edge of the pool. <If she doesn't agree to it, we may well be better off. Perhaps...you'll get used to the silence?>
<<Or you could always ask him to come in for a visit,>> Mike says with a cackle.
-
Taylis went back to the bar past some new guests. She looked defeated as she entered. There was little she could do to help. Where could she find expert on the being that Fiona was? She went to her seat at the bar next to Carris. "He wont give it to me until I know for sure that she can't just reinfest her or me," Taylis said. "How do we do that?"
-
<Relinquish what Andalite? Gremytt-Pekulon-Thelan is dead!!! DEAD I say! Gremytt is dead, gone forever!>
Our...hearts burned. It was an odd sensation. We recall the humans cry when this happens. Andalites lack the tear ducts of humans. But why were we experiencing emotion? Emotion...self...
<Dead...dead...>, I sobbed.
-
<It seems to me that Gremytt-Pekulon-Thelan is not dead. Merely suppressed. Your distance from the source you call Alvie is helping Gremytt regain his individuality. You can fight it off, Gremytt! The Alvie and Theta can't hold you anymore! Fight for yourself! Fight for your people! Fight for every individual that the Alvie has taken!>
That name actually seemed familiar to Claxter, but he wasn't sure from where. He was never friends with anyone by that name. A thought crossed his mind, though. Maybe if a Yeerk went into his mind, the Yeerk could pull up memories. Though he wasn't sure if he wanted to have a fellow Andalite infested.
-
In the Transport, everything was going according to plan. Then...a probe in contact with the minicollective pushed through. Above the influence and control of the hive for the first time a century. Everything froze...
<I...cannot...help!>, I said.
All effort was forced on that one drone. Unit Theta-...you know. The collective consciousness was imposed on him yet again.
Gggcchrrreeer! Vvvooooo!, our mechanics whirled, reasserting their functions.
We looked up at Claxter, <Fighting is irrelevant. Individuality is irrelevant. You...will...be—>
Theta's upper body slumped to the floor next to his lower body. Unconscious.
-
At the sound of footsteps, Jasper turned. Except, it wasn't the man they'd met originally; it was a woman. "Hello, miss?" She kept walking. "Excuse me ma'am." She didn't even turn to look or slow down, but continued right through the door, letting it swing shut behind her. <<What just happened here?>> Sapttus asked Jasper, who returned his utter confusion. <<I'm not sure. I think we just got dissed.>> <<Well that's kinda obvious, don'tcha think?!?>> <<Chill dude, it's fine.>> During the short second the door had been opened, they had seen past it into the room behind. It was a bar. And it was full of people. All kinds of thoughts floated from one mind to the other. What are the chances? How are they all here? Is this like an Earth colony? What kind of foods did they have hear? Was it possible that..... No way. Slowly, Jasper opened the door and stepped through, shutting it behind him. He briskly walked over to the bar with purpose, took a seat next to the lady who'd brushed past him and a friend of hers, and called to the bartender. "Hey, you got a second?"
-
The bartender approaches Jasper/Sapttus with a blank expression. Planting himself opposite the newcomer he stares expectantly.
<<What?>> Terenia yelps in response to Mike. The idea of Corliss being inside her head, having free reign over her thoughts, makes her flush. <<Absolutely not.>>
"So you just want me to...talk to her?" Terenia asks Corliss, turning back to the task at hand. The idea seems utterly absurd, considering all of her plans involved a Dracon. "Ah...well...okay. I guess I can give it a shot." Mike's expression settles into a soft smile, directed at the pool. "I'm sorry for stealing your host, Corliss. I'll get Mike back to you. I'm not to fond of being a guy, truth be told."
Trey looks up from his barely touched drink as the windows of the bar rattle yet again. Through the grimy windows he can make out a bright flash of something hurtling by before everything grows still once more.
"What was that?" He asks, looking to Elayne with a concerned expression.
-
Now that Theta/Gremyyt had fallen unconscious, claxter could approach safely. He restrained his prisoner, though he wondered if those nanobots were capable of eating through restraints. Claxter would have to continuously monitor him. Now that he was out of the hyperstor gun, Claxter felt there was no reason to leave his ship intact.
He lifted off, and set out of destroy any remnant of Alvie technology from the area, hoping it would further isolate Gremytt from Alvie. He used his main gun on the ship, also looking around for any more drones. After that he hoped that between him and Efaen, they should be able to keep close watch over the prisoner and keep him from escaping.
Temrash got the Yeerk switched from one Taxxon to the other, so Iosse was a controller again. He also fed all three Taxxons with some special food designed to make Taxxons feel more full.
-
<Just please, be careful, Terenia,> says Corliss. <Mike, you too. I expect you both to come back here in one piece. It's bad enough I've got to sit here and wait for you, so please hurry. And you've probably got that Dracon with you, I'd appreciate it if you didn't use it unless you had to.>
<<God, he sounds like my mum,>> Mike sighs.
-
<A nothlit?> Efaen repeats, her thoughts wavering as she takes in this new information. On one hand it indicates that Serid is likely of a military background; on the other hand, Efaen views nothlits as practically a form of vecol: handicapped creatures that are to be pitied, but avoided. An opinion that has only been reinforced by Terenia's multiple nothlitisms and resulting lack of stability.
Regardless of her qualms, she does straighten her back slightly, tail arched in a dignified fashion. If he is - or was - military, then who is to say what his connections may be?
<I am certain that your current circumstances, while pitiable, were brought about with honor,> she says, almost sounding hopeful. <You are not familiar to me; I take it that you did not arrive on Prince Ossanlin's vessel?>
"Yeah," Terenia says grimly, patting the Dracon at her side. "We will be. See you in a bit."
<<Ready?>> she asks Mike, turning away from the pool and propelling his body towards the hatch. She takes care to order the ship to forbid re-entry to anyone but Mike and descends the ramp.
<<This has been one hell of a day,>> she comments blithely, pausing to make sure that the hatch closes behind her and the proper security systems are activated.
-
Serid chooses not to remark upon Efaen's comment and responds, instead, to the second. "My arrival here was through a considerably more circuitous route than that, unfortunately, but I do hope to leave with Prince Ossanlin in time."
He folds his hands tidily behind his back, looking almost like a soldier standing at attention. "And may I ask how you came to be on this planetoid, Warrior?"
The emphasis Efaen places on honor take him by a bit of surprise. Of course, it is a matter of utmost importance to himself, but it has been so long since he has heard of anyone else speak of it. It seems that the years spent with easy-going Illim have weakened his memory of the strength of Andalite moral codes.
-
<I too have arrived via...circuitous means,> Efaen says with only a slight hesitation. <Although I intend on departing the planet with Prince Ossanlin.>
She has not yet given much thought as to how she will address her five year absence from the military, if and when it inevitably is called into question. At the moment, however, she has no reason to confide in the nothlit. She does not want her years of slavery to be interpreted as dishonorable and decides that, for now at least, it is better left unsaid.
-
<<As I'll ever be,>> Mike says, and his thoughts flicker from worrying about Corliss to worrying about just how Efaen will react to their proposal. <<Longest ****ing day of my life, I think, and it's not over yet.>>
As they walk, he wonders what's going on beyond the barrier of Terenia's mind. He can sense her own anxiety, but little else.
<<What will you do, if she says yes? Do you really think she'd even consider the whole idea?>>
-
"May I walk with you, Warrior?" Serid asks, continuing to approach. "I thank you for responding to my friend's alert; your assistance would have been welcomed in the event of an emergency."
The Bar building now back in sight, Illim straightens his path and makes a beeline for the door. He's not entirely sure what he'll do once inside, but being there has to be better than waiting on Corliss in the gravel lot. Upon reaching the building, he opens the door and steps inside.
-
<<No,>> Terenia says honestly, turning her back on the Skimmer and traipsing off towards the bar in hopes of finding Efaen there. <<The only way she'll agree to this is if she thinks it is her best opportunity to destroy the Empire. She knows the risks of returning to the Andalites. I don't care what Ossanlin promises, the odds of her not being shipped back to the homeworld are slim to none. Even if she does stay in space, there's no way she'll see battle. There's too much working against her. She knows that.>>
Terenia heaves an outward sigh as she walks around a long abandoned Bug Fighter and the bar comes into view.
<<The problem is that she doesn't think the rebellion has anything better to offer. Running away from the Andalites to join a Yeerk resistance group hardly seems 'honorable', you know? But I have to convince her that it is.>>
She places a hand flat on the door to the bar, pushing it open and standing at the threshold, squinting through the gloom for a sign of Efaen.
<<Is this place more crowded, or is it just me?>>
<Please,> Efaen says, setting off at a slow walk that a human could keep pace with easily. <You are welcome, of course, though it seems I was quite unnecessary,> The slightest trace of bitterness seeps into her tone, but she hides it quickly by changing the topic. <Have you had an opportunity to speak with Prince Ossanlin as of yet?>
-
Ossanlin nods as he follows Mar. <Clearly your perception of reality and time is more advanced than my own. I admit to being somewhat curious about your relationship with Myitt. She seems to loathe your presence and yet you seem to enjoy being around her. Should you remember and care to share, I would be interested in your own meeting with her.>
As Ossanlin walks and talks, in addition to thinking about Okaru and Mar's relationship with Myitt, a new theory begins to percolate regarding his abilities. He doesn't voice his thoughts as he waits for Mar's response, continuing toward the bar.
-
As he felt the welcomed touch of his new Master, the Taxxon resumed his customary role as silent observer, content with the provision of the gracious Yeerks, the only ones who could take away the fear.
Jasper leans in toward the bartender, hoping to make his request in private. Sapttus asks: "What kind of stuff have you got here?" To which, the Bartender maintains his blank stare. <<Um... maybe he's a mute?>> "Okay, um... Well, let me just spit it out and ask. Got any oatmeal? More specifically, Instant Maple and Ginger?" <<Now don't get your hopes up, dude. Just remember, we didn't come unprepared.>><<I know, I know, but you can't blame me for hoping, can you? It just isn't the same if you don't make it right. And we don't exactly have a stovetop back on the Bug Fighter...>>
The Bartender walks away without a word, leaving Sapttus and Jasper anxious.
-
Illim thinks he sees the man who had approached him in the ship yard, but it is difficult to tell in this dim light. Before he can approach him, the door opens behind him, and he turns his head to see Mike standing only a few feet away. "Well hello again," he smirks, rotating his whole body towards him and leaning against the Bar wall casually. "So who are you this time?"
"I did," Serid answers, moving to walk beside her, his hands loose at his sides, although the Dracon is not far from his right hand, "however briefly. It is my belief that he is sympathetic with my situation and is open to further discussion in the near future. And what of you? Has he been similarly magnanimous?"
-
Terenia curls Mike's mouth into a grimace when not only is Efaen nowhere to be seen, but she is immediately approached by Illim.
"Still Terenia," he says, looking past him and deeper into the bar for sign of an Andalite. After a moment of failure she sighs and turns her full attention to Illim. "Say, you haven't seen my host wandering around anywhere, have you? My usual host, I mean. She's kind of hard to miss. Big, blue, wicked tail and nasty attitude?"
<Indeed he has,> Efaen says, treading lightly over the gravel. <I expressed a desire to maintain an active combat position, which he seemed amenable to.> She pauses, wondering if this Andalite will more readily share her concerns over the captain than Claxter.
<He does, however, concern me in some of his policies. I know it is not for a warrior to question her commander, but my grievances were initiated prior to my enlistment under his office.>
-
<I think I heard someone say oatmeal. I like oatmeal.> Derrel said, starting to feel hungry again upon hearing the name of a food he liked.
"If everything is set, you can all hang around this ship. I'll contact you if any ships need repairing." Temrash said, and the repair crew saluted. He left for the bar again, returning to within eyesight of Morgan. He noticed Illim was there, as well as Mike, and wondered which one was inhabiting Mike right now. He didn't ask, and figured just watching him for a minute would answer the question.
Claxter fired on the ship until the scanners showed it was all wrecked. Just one big molten mass. After that he flew the ship back and gave the ship a command to monitor Theta. The room would be on lockdown, and the ship would alert Claxter if he started trying to move around. He then left the ship to walk in the direction Efaen went.
<Ah, there you are.> He said when he found her. <The Andalite cyborg has been released from the hyperstore, and is currently restrained in the ship. I've found out the Andalite body's name is Gremyyt, and I think he's starting to get his individuality bac. Unfortunately I don't know if he can fight it off on his own and don't have a concrete plan of action.>
-
Danielle went back to the bar, looking for a new job. She just so happened to sit near where Temrash and Morgan were. "I'll have a gin and tonic please." She told the bartender. She pondered over her device, looking at the ads for her line of work.
-
"Hello. Name's Temrash." He said upon seeing someone sit near him.
-
Carris shakes his head. "I don't know. I don't know how to keep her from possessing anyone." He sighs. "The problem is, none of that even matters if we can't get her out in the first place." He suddenly finds himself wishing that he'd given Fiona more of a chance to explain herself. He might actually have something useful to go on now.
-
"Danielle." She said. "What brings you to the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar?" She had hope that maybe this could be a way to get her new assignment.
-
"I was running from someone. That someone has been convinced to leave me alone, and my enemies have yet to send someone. I'm staying because...um...hone stly I'm not sure. I've made a few friends, and a few enemies here. I don't think I have anything going on that necessitates me staying here, except the centaur over there. He has a personal problem, and I offered to watch him."
"Most people seem to come here by accident, rather than purposefully. Unless they've been here before, that is."
-
"I was tracking a terror of a criminal and finally succeeded right in this bar. Now I'm looking for a new job. You wouldn't happen to have an opening, would you?"
-
"To be honest, I could be your next job. This place is kind of a hangout for that kind of person. However some of these people may also be your last job, if you know what I mean. I'm not sure I need to hire a bounty hunter. Not unless you're really, really good."
-
"To be honest I'm looking more into a permanent job, such as a crewman on a ship. I studied tactical at the academy so I am pretty good at that. Anything is good though."
-
"I could hire you for that. I'm not one to turn down someone looking for steady work, instead of just individual jobs."
-
"This sounds like a winning scenario on both our parts! When do I start?"
-
"Whenever you're ready. If you want to stay here, I can show you the ship I have and give you a communicator and a few access codes. Otherwise I can call someone in and put you to work on someone else's ship."
-
"I think I would like that, too see the ship first. Sounds good."
-
The bartender returned, moments later, with a bowl of steaming oatmeal. <<SWEET MOTHER OF PEARL, THEY HAVE IT!>> <<Yikes, man, keep the yelling down. I'm in here too, remember?>> Sapttus doesn't even acknowledge Jasper as he begins to shovel the oatmeal in their mouth, hardly stopping to breathe. But then his eyes opened wide, his spoon clanked on the bartop, and his shoulders slumped. This.... wasn't right. He must have added the ginger afterwards. That was it, that's what he'd done. And it wasn't right.<<No! It's wrong! It's all wrong!>> Sapttus shouted internally. He began shaking slightly, as if suddenly overcome with withdrawal pains. <<Hey, it's okay, we've got the right stuff, remember?>> Jasper raised his hand and called to the bartender. "Um, sir? Actually, can we just get some hot water please? A uh, large glass would do fine... Oh. And another bowl." <<Yeah, yeah, you're right. It's going to be okay.>> They sighed heavily, and Sapttus drummed their fingers on the bar. Jasper reached into his bag and pulled out a pouch of the good stuff - they always carried plenty on them - and began shaking the bag, settling its contents to one side and tearing off the top. The bar tender returned with the water, and they set about busily mixing the ingredients.
-
Illim raises an eyebrow and glances towards the window. "That sounds like who I just left," he remarks. "She's over by my ship, a cute Madra class. You won't recognize it." Shoving away from the wall with a lurch of his shoulder, he says, "Come on, I'll show you."
<Yeah,> he answers Derrel. <I feel ya. I'll get some food in us soon. Serid has my money, though, so unless you have some cash no you, I need to be heading that direction, anyway.>
Serid turns his head to watch her; even had he still had his stalk eyes, such a statement would cause him to give her his full attention with his main ones. "Which grievances are those, if I may ask?" he says calmly, although he is starting to worry. Is there any way she might know from Ossanlin about his... travails with the Empire? Or that the very War Prince in question just saw him accept a slimy Yeerk into his head and did not seem to be worried about it?
-
"I don't know what to do it seems hopeless," Taylis started resting her head in her hands. The new comer that was acting weird about oatmeal, made her reach in her bag for her switch blade. "You know her better than me. So what should we do now?"
-
"Ok. Let's go." Temrash said. He walked outside and started heading towards his ship, making sure Danielle was following.
-
<<Yeah, there are quite a few new faces,>> Mike says, focusing on the bar visitors as Terenia does. <<And I don't see the one we're looking for.>>
Mike finds his thoughts drifting toward visuals of the proposed encounter. None of them end very prettily.
<<She blew up your ship, maybe,>> he says hesitantly, <<but you don't reckon she'd actually want to...like, off you?>>
-
Excited about her new job, Danielle followed Temrash outside towards the ship hangar.
-
Temrash reached the ship, and punched in some codes. "Alright. I'll give you the codes to get in, and be able to fly the ship. However you'll be restricted to flying within the atmosphere, and you won't have acdess to weapons. There's a medbay if anyone is injured, as well as a supply of Kandrona machines." He gave her a communicator so they could keep in touch. "For now I'm just trying to help Morgan, but if anything else comes up I'll let you know."
-
"Really? You saw her?" Terenia asks, raising an eyebrow at Illim's lack of surprise when she describes an Andalite host. "Great, let's go then."
<<I don't think so, no,>> Terenia says to Mike, although she sounds uncertain. <<She's not a murderer, and as much as she revels in the idea of battle the only ones she's been in has been under my control. She isn't as experienced as she pretends to be.>>
<<He has shown a certain amount of weakness regarding the Yeerk Empire,>> Efaen says, switching to private thought speech in case anyone is listening. <<In fact, I believe that he has an underhanded alliance of sorts with them. He is quite friendly with various members of the supposed Yeerk rebellion, which is of concern to me.>> She glances over at Serid. <<There is little honor in consorting with the enemy.>>
-
We awoke from our stasis.
<Andalite. Andalite, show yourself.>
We rose. There was no gravimetric suppression. We started to walk around, scanning the bulkheads for a way out. Then We felt it...
There was no one. No one there. All units were inactive...or possibly destroyed, <Andalite. Explain the events that have transpired over our dormancy.>
-
"Thanks." Danielle said. "I think I'll get a feel for the controls while theres some time."
-
Claxter was going to ask who Serid was, but Theta woke up. He should still be confined to the room, but if he was awake, he needed watching. Claxter gave Efaen a communicator so they could keep in touch, assuming she still wanted to help. Right now she seemed involved in a conversation, though he wasn't sure about what.
He went back to the ship. <I have destroyed your ship. There will be no more drones, and no escape. You are cut off.> He said. <If you refuse to cooperate, I will find a way to dismantle you.>
-
Before Carris has time to respond to Amy, Fiona returns to the bar. She sets her empty glass down. "Thanks for the drinks and the food, barkeep." She takes out her wallet and nods toward Carris. "He'll pay up whatever's left. It's his money anyway." She hands Carris his wallet.
He takes it, looking slightly amused. "I'd wondered where it got to."
"Sure you did. That's why you never cancelled the cards." Fiona rolls her eyes and starts for the door. She completely ignores Amy. "Come on, Carris. Let's get it over with."
-
Illim nods and walks past her out the door, holding it open for her and Mike to pass through. "I thought I was the only one around here with an Andalite host," he remarks offhandedly, sounding more disinterested than he really is. "I'm interested to hear your story, maybe once we're all comfy cozy in the base, hm?" he smiles.
Serid clenches his jaw shut in order to carefully regulate his expression. There is no doubt he cannot confide in Efaen now; she would likely peg him for a traitor and a friend of the enemy just for talking with Illim now. <<I see,>> he responds in private thought-speech as well. <<That is of concern. What will you do, now that he is your commander?>>
-
"That would be a good idea." Temrash said. Since he was close to Salem's ship, he wondered if he should check on him. Or perhaps wait until Salem contacted him. He went ahead and grabbed a defibrillator from the medbay to give to Tayliss.
-
Taylis looked from one to another. "Fiona this isn't a fair fight. He can't heard you the way you can hurt him. Could you please even out the playing field a bit?"
-
Fiona looks at Amy. "He's got arms, don't he? He's got a weapon. He's also bigger than I am. He'll be fine. 'Sides. The last thing I want is another voice in my head." She pauses. "No offense, Adam. But I've gotten used to peace and quiet." She walks across the bar, pushing through the front door.
Carris looks at Amy helplessly, then shrugs, following.
<This won't end well.>
<No kidding.>
-
Our head tilted, <Any attempt to remove our cybernetic implants will result in punishment.
-
Could Fiona over ride a Yeerk's control? That made Taylis shiver. Imagine being locked away in a head with no way to communicate, yelling and not being heard, performing actions that she didn't want to do...
<<Like a Yeerk host,>> Amy commented.
<<Don't remind me,>> Taylis said. She didn't like Amy replaying her days in the Empire. I need to find a new host.
"Can't you handle this some other way that doesn't involve fighting?"
-
Claxter wasn't sure if Theta meant he'd punish Claxter, or the Alvie would punish him. How would one punish a machine that's not supposed to be able to feel anything?
<Who gets punished? You won't be punishing me, and being a machine you shouldn't fear punishment on yourself. You won't gain your freedom back unless you find some way to separate yourself from Gremyyt.>
-
<Fear is irrelevant. Freedom is irrelevant. You will release us, or we will find a way to bypass you security measures. It is simple. Do not waste time in your linear existence. It would be simpler for all if you released us and prepared to enter the collective.>, we stated.
There was no collective there. We were many...yet we were one...one? There were no voices in m-m-my-my Our head. We were one. But that is a contradiction. We is many. There is no self, no one. If I was one...
I rose, <Perhaps your assimilation can be postponed.>
-
<Indefinitely, I wager.> Claxter said as he thought about what he could do. If only he had more information. Maybe he could have gotten some from the ship, but he had already vaporized it. It would probably be too risky anyway. He wished he could talk to Prince Ossanlin. Gremyyt was in there somewhere, if only Claxter could get him out.
-
We watched the young Andalite watching us...suddenly...
<A Yeerk Claxt--!>, I said.
We quickly brought ourselves under control again, <Something along those lines>, we began trying to distract the Andalite, <If you wish. But you must release us first.>
-
Had Gremyyt said Yeerk? Was he thinking the same thing Claxter had thought of? The idea made him uncomfortable. He wondered if he could find Temrash. He reactivated the gravity feild in the room. <I am going out. Do not try anything.> He said, and placed new shredders outside the room. Though chances were he wouldn't be able to resist the gravity field with enough force to hack through the door.
He went to the bar, but Temrash wasn't there. He found the controller in the ship, and explained everything. Temrash told Danielle he was going, and brought up an image on the computer screen if she needed help with the controls. Together they made for Claxter's ship.
-
((Sorry for the delay, Oss. My body's been somewhat shaken up. <__<; ))
Mar pauses on the trip for a few moments. His relationship with Myitt is a rather complicated one, spanning back long before there ever was a Myitt. He is not sure if he'd even be able to explain it to his friend. Still...Ossanlin can cause him no harm and is not involved with his affairs. The Bar, Mar muses, is rather like Las Vegas. What happens here stays here.
Mar then continues to walk and says with some trepidation, "There was a time when I was...very weak. Wounded from a battle that left me nearly dead. In desperation, I possessed the body of a creature known as Lord Vorlahk Mar Drakonis. He was...powerful for his species. He was hosting some kind of...party or special event. At this party, I met..."
Mar smiles slightly at the memory. "...I met Lady Amal'thea. Physically weak, but beautiful and kind. Nearly Vor's opposite physically speaking. Yet we did fall in love. Much as such things can be among nobles. Myitt still carries a remnant of the fire in my queen....as well as her immortal soul."
-
"My story is not interesting enough to share," Terenia says, not bothering to look at Illim as she steps through the door. "Despite the fact that half of this bar seems to feel that they have a personal investment in it."
She pauses outside the building, crossing Mike's arms and taking a stance that looks oddly feminine for the British host. Her expression is a cross between frustrated and distracted, her thoughts following a similar line as Mike's.
<<What am I going to say to her?>> she asks him, despite knowing his thoughts already.
<<I do not know,>> Efaen admits. <<My situation is tumultuous at the moment. Despite his unorthodox tendencies I must serve him honorably. It is unlikely that another Andalite captain will accept me on their crew, and I wish to avoid returning to the Homeworld.>>
-
Ossanlin furrows his brow, catching up with Mar to walk beside him. <You...are very old. I suppose I knew that but it did not truly...compute...b efore. How odd...you seem to be speaking of some very philosophically significant ideas. You speak as though life is not limited to a lifetime. And that one individual can have more than one lifetime, or perhaps infinite lifetimes. There is little to suggest this scientifically.> Ossanlin looks at Mar with a stalk-eye. <So you suggest you knew Myitt before she existed...that is...interesting.> He stops as Mar does. <Are you well?>
-
<<Well, 'hello' is a good way to start,>> Mike says wryly. <<If she's so keen on being some sort of beleaguered hero, tell her this is her only bloody chance to actually fight the Empire! So what if she's fighting alongside Yeerks? I don't really understand what will get the idea through that thick head of hers.>>
-
Mar sighs, continuing to head toward the Bar. He can actually see it now, although it's still a slight distance away. "I do not...like thinking about the incident. At first, I didn't even understand what had happened. I thought that she had just left and that it would be simple to track and find her again. I suppose I..."
Mar rubs the back of his head, looking embarassed. "....I didn't anticipate that Amal'thea wouldn't know who I was, even though I understood how mortality workedAnd yes, of course I am saying that you have more than one "life." Why else would I, a Highest, be chasing after Myitt? This mind may complicate my perception of it, but I still understand how reality works. In my world, there is no such thing as death for a normal entity. Mortals merely change minds and bodies...and sometimes personalities as well. Leaving this flesh should be effortless for me...but I am falling for such illusions yet."
Mar frowns. "...I am failing in many ways now, War-Prince. I am barely half the creature I was when I entered."
-
<Hmm...failing? I think not. Perhaps you are actually succeeding in a way your other incarnations never thought possible. I believe there to be great power in feeling.> Ossanlin trots along with Mar, gazing at the bar. <I suppose such reincarnation is not impossible...after all I suppose we forced it's hand with Myitt earlier.>
<You feel that allowing yourself to exist as a mortal is a failure. Why? Do you feel that we are weak? Perhaps we do not possess the power you are familiar with, but we do possess other powers. Emotion can drive us to ruin, but it can also elevate us to feats of grandeur. Perhaps we are not truly less, merely different, and allowing yourself to explore our reality will lead to a greater understanding and a greater knowledge. As I'm sure you know, Knowledge is the true Power.> Ossanlin smiles at Mar before turning his main eyes back on the bar.
-
Sapttus felt much better after cleaning his bowl. The slight buzzing feeling in their mind had subsided by now, as it always did after getting his fix. They notice that they were sitting very close to the girl who'd pushed past them without a word earlier. And... neither of them were too eager to start up a conversation with her, either. They turn to see the man they'd met briefly walking out the door. <<Was he in here the whole time?>> << I think he wandered in when you were uh, placing your order.>> But ... there wasn't any reason to go after him. After all, they'd only spoken for less than a minute. He looked around. There weren't too many people here, though it certainly wasn't empty. Most of them seemed to be occupied with poker, private conversations, or things of that matter. <<Well, what now?>> <<I figure we should find someone to talk with, and just get to learn about this place some.>> <<Yeah, that's better than just sitting on the fighter all day. How about them?>> Jasper pointed to a couple - a guy and a girl - who seemed to be chatting casually. <<Sure, why not? We know them just about as well as anyone else.>> "Hey" Sapttus said to the bartender, who responded with his trademark blank stare. "Can we get some chips?" Within a short minute, he'd returned with a basket of tortilla chips, which he carried to the table. "Mind if I join?" Jasper said.
-
"Sounds like a pain," Illim remarks wryly and takes several steps ahead. A moment later, though, he stops, realizing that Terenia has not followed him any further. "You okay?" he asks as he turns to watch her. "Look, um, I realize you don't want my opinion, and I've got no real notion of what's going on here, but if that Andalite's telling the truth, you've got a damn good opportunity in front of you."
<<He seems, from my limited conversation with him, to be a strong leader,>> Serid responds, taking several steps for Efaen's one. <<Truly, we are fortunate to find him. As you say, our positions, although honorable, would be seen less than favorably by most of our people.>>
He sighs, straightening his shoulders even more as he combats his inner irritation. It is becoming apparent to him that, even among Andalites who share a tumultuous history with him, he must keep secrets. The benefit of a good Yeerk, he finds himself thinking, is that one continually has a confidante. To go through life with endless secrets one must indefinitely keep is a lonely existence, and one Serid has never known.
Elayne looks up at the approach of a man bearing food to their table. "Looks like you've already gotten the password taken care of," she teases with a smile. "Sure, take a seat."
-
Mar turns his eyes to the Bar, but smirks knowingly. It is an odd, bitter expression. "...perhaps it is. That was what He thought, anyway. Humans believe that He came among mortals several times or only once, depending on the human. We Highest know how many times it actually was, but I do not intend to begin any complications here. It is true that knowledge of the mortal realm may allow greater understanding of it. But..."
Mar shrugs, still grinning. "...how exactly will that help me when I have returned to my old self, War-Prince? To complete my designs, I must be immune to such frivolities for the most part. The memory of being limited and full of the feeling of it will only slow me down. This madness may grant some pleasure and Corona, but that hardly does a ruler any good in the long run."
-
Claxter and Temrash arrive at the ship.
"You'll need to lessen the strength of the gravity field just enough to where my host can resist. I don't really know how strong Theta is, but if I'm the stronger one I can restrain him with some pressure still on." Temrash said.
Claxter did so, and Temrash entered the room. Claxter would be at the controls to try to keep Theta down without flooring Temrash too.
-
Terenia's eyes snap up to meet Illim's when he speaks, pulling her away from Mike's thoughts.
"Somehow I doubt that," she says gruffly. "Andalite's rarely tell the truth, and if they do it's only because there's some benefit to them." She sighs, running her hand through Mike's hair, temporarily forgetting it is not the long, tangled mess that she usually sports. "I don't know. I just need to get Efaen back. I'm not in favor of joining the rebellion tupperware style."
<<Yes,>> Efaen agrees. <<He would not achieve captainhood if he were not qualified for the duties. I am simply concerned that his time at this establishment has warped his view of the war. He is convinced that a small sampling of the Yeerk population will actually dissent against their own people - that they are actively doing so. I find this rebellion a bit of an obvious farce. They do seem to work collaboratively with their hosts; however, I cannot imagine that their hosts were all voluntary from the onset. They have been manipulated into believing that the cause is just, when it is only half of a solution.>>
Trey offers the man a weak smile, his stomach growling loudly at the sight of the tortilla chips. When was the last time I ate? he wonders. He can't remember if he's had anything substantial since he crashed here.
"Hi," he offers an uncertain hand to the man. "I'm Treyliss."
-
Jasper smiled. <<I'll let you handle this part.>> Sapttus said. "Yeah, well, everyone likes chips and dip." He took the man's hand with a reasonably firm grip. "I'm Jasper. I'm uh, kinda new here." He set the basket down, and pulled up a chair from a table behind him, not wanting to make either of them have to scoot over for him. He noticed the guy eying the chips. "Feel free to have at it. I don't mean to intrude or anything, I was uh, just wanting to maybe learn a thing or two about this place. Would either of you know anything, or are you as lost as I am?"
-
We felt the gravity release it's pressure. We scanned the area..
We injected hyperadrenaline into our blood stream, and used the exoskeletal supports to raise ourselves in 2 seconds.
<Andalite. Show yourself.>
-
Temrash entered the room to find the android Andalite, but he was up much faster than expected.
"May have difficulties here." He said. He really wasn't feeling confident about that metal tail. He backed out of the room and drew his dracons on stun. He fired at the organic areas of Theta's body to stun him.
-
"If you hold him down, I'll infest him, and then we'll know for sure" Illim winks with a smile. "Come on," he gestures with his hand. "Let's find your grumpy host, hm? Birds of a feather."
Serid studies Efaen carefully before speaking rather slowly, <<I, too, have heard of this rebellion.>> He frowns and stops walking, his dark eyebrows lowering in concern. What she says is slicing through his fog of sleepiness to rouse a quiet anxiousness in its place. <<Do you have any evidence regarding its true intentions that you might present to a superior? And... what do you mean, half of a solution?>>
"We've been here a while," Elayne tells Jasper, "so we might be able to help you. My name's Elayne, by the way." She reaches forward and takes a chip, nibbling thoughtfully on it a moment. If there is one lesson she has learned at the Bar, it is to be circumspect, particularly around strangers. She continues: "What exactly do you want to know? And where are you coming from?"
-
<<So, uh, we're keeping you a secret, right?>> Jasper asked. He didn't like the idea of hiding an entire other person. It felt like spying. <<Yes, but only for a little while. It wouldn't do us too much good to scare them off.>> But... there was that Andalite we saw... <<Yes, I know that. But still. We'll just work it into the conversation in a minute or so.>>
"I come from Earth. And uh, I take it that isn't the only place for humans to come from around here, is it?" That was an interesting concept for both Jasper and Sapttus. What was this, Star Wars? "I guess for starters, it would be nice to know where we are." Jasper rubbed his neck. How was he supposed to explain how they'd gotten here? "I'm on a little R&R trip, you could say, and just happened to find myself here. It seems like a nice place so far...."
-
Gaz had a drink while she watched Morgan. He had been really quiet lately and hadn't even answered Temrash, who had walked out a while ago.
Morgan had been through a lot and had come through stronger than ever. Anything that came up in the past, Morgan had come through no problem. He made it through his trials at the facility where he had nearly died. He found his family again, made it through the bounty hunter returning and losing a crew member...did losing his mind really scare Morgan that much?
-
"Yeah," Terenia grumps. "Let's go." She sighs, unfolding her arms and moving forward in the direction Illim indicated. She bites her lip, glancing towards the ground, indecision clouding her thoughts again.
<<Everyone thinks that this is such a fantastic opportunity with Ossanlin,>> she frets. <<Ugh, I just want all of this to be over with.>>
<<Evidence?>> Efaen looks surprised. <<What evidence do I need beyond the fact that they are Yeerks? They have evolved as creatures of deceit.>> She turns her main eyes to him, regarding the Andalite nothlit carefully. <<It is half a solution because it achieves half of their supposed means. Based on the information that I have gathered these rebellion members seek a union between host and Yeerk. While their intentions are, admittedly, honorable ->> Efaen winces slightly, as if saying that much is painful, <<- they are not feasible. How many sapient beings would accept a Yeerk into their head? Even those voluntary hosts that are a part of the rebellion undoubtedly did not begin voluntary.>>
"Thanks," Trey says gratefully, reaching over and grabbing a handful of chips. He shoves them into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as Jasper explains his situation.
"Well," he says, swallowing and taking a swig of water, "I'm from Earth. So is Elayne. It isn't only the where you have to be concerned about here, but the when as well." He offers Jasper a small smile. "Most humans here seem to come from some variation of Earth, at least."
-
<<All that matters is whether you think it's a fantastic opportunity,>> Mike insists. <<Okay? You don't need to appease anyone else but yourself. And...perhaps Efaen. And Reven. And...oh, bloody 'ell, look, none of that really matters. Either you get your old body back through Ossanlin, or you get your old body back by getting Efaen to agree with you and not kill anyone.>>
He sighs internally. <<Why can't our bloody lives ever just be easy?>> Mike mulls the whole rotten situation over, his thoughts churning irritably. <<I mean, it's a question of what you want more. Your old self, alone...or your old self, with a voice in your 'ead?>>
-
<<Great,>> Terenia sighs. <<so I just have to make everyone in the freaking world happy. No big deal or anything. Look, if this doesn't work with Efaen I'll go accept ossanlin's stupid offer. I'd just be a lot more comfortable with it if I knew that I could keep the morphing ability. I don't like being vulnerable. Especially when it has been pretty useful lately.>>
-
<<For what it's worth, I don't like the idea of you being vulnerable either,>> Mike replies softly. <<Especially with your penchant for getting shot at all the bloody time. But that's the way things are in this way of life, and especially at this forsaken place. We get shot at quite a bit, if you haven't noticed. But...Terenia, you know that I'd...Corliss and I, we'd hate to have something happen to you, but that shouldn't rule your life, make you afraid of what's around every damn corner.>>
-
Illim leads Terenia towards where he had last seen Serid and Efaen near his ship, weaving his way around the other small spacecraft littering the gravel lot. At one point, a sigh from the Yeerk makes him glance over his shoulder at her, but she appears in deep thought--or conversation--so he keeps quiet. That is, until they arrive at the Madra, where Efaen is nowhere to be found.
"Well... they were here," he mutters.
Serid considers her final point carefully and then gives a slow nod. <<That is most likely true. I imagine that the majority of their hosts once fell prey to less... compromising Yeerks.>>
He faces her fully, frowning. <<Please do not misunderstand me: I do not support this rebellion. I do, however, wonder if they might be aiming for some other kind of agreement with our people. Perhaps they would be willing to take less-than-sapient hosts, should the war end. If we can control them, why not use them for our purposes in the meantime?>>
"Tell us..." Elayne murmurs, watching Jasper carefully, "what of the war where you're from? When you're from?" Existing in a future part of the same timeline has already proven dangerous once to her; she is eager to ensure she doesn't make the same mistake twice.
-
The Hork-Bajir fired at us. He aimed for our biological parts. One shot hit our abdminal support, and one hit our biological hand. The Nanoprobes would not fix that. His next shot hit our shoulder. That could be easily repaired.
His later shots were met with our advanced adaptive shielding. One arm missing the hand needed to use the Quantryon beam, and the other immobile and useless in any event, we had only to use our tail.
We lifted our tail and it shot out at him.
-
Carris doesn't respond to Amy as he's already out the door. Too late now.
Fiona is standing with her back turned a few yards from the door, perfectly still, with her hands held at her sides like a gunslinger.
Carris stops a few feet from her. "Fiona--" he cuts off abruptly as Fiona whips around and punches him in the face. "Jesus Christ!" He clutches at his throbbing nose for a moment before drawing back his hand just long enough to see that he wasn't bleeding.
Fiona tackles Carris and they hit the ground, rolling around, looking almost comically like some schoolyard fight.
-
Taylis wished she was like a normal Yeerk that carried a dracon beam on her. That would mean that all she would need to do was stun Fiona till she could talk some sense in to her. But other Yeerks in the bar were caring. She tried to sneak a dracon off the woman (Elayne) that was talking to the crazy man. She was never good at taking stuff without being noticed though.
-
Temrash had long ago found out the average length of an Andalite tail, and could unconsciously jump back just far enough to avoid one. Unfortunately this tail was longer, and he didn't take that into consideration. It left a gash in his chest.
<<Try to lure him partly out of the room, and I'll turn the gravity field to max. That will bring his back end out while letting you get at his head.>> Claxter said.
Temrash went with that idea, and slowly backed away while attempting to deflect the tail with his blades.
-
<<Thanks,>> Terenia says with a small smile playing on her expression. <<It's nice to know that someone cares. I suppose this won't be a total loss either way. Efaen has to agree to Ossanlin's deal too, so I have to speak with her either way.>>
When they reach the ship where Efaen very clearly is not her smile drops into a snarl of frustration.
"Of course she ran off. Dapsen Andalite..." she surveys the area, as though hoping Efaen will appear out of thin air. "And I don't even have my ship to track her." She gives Illim a sharp look. "Thanks anyways. I guess I'll just wander around hoping the grass eater will respond to my thought speech or something. Unless you have a better idea?"
<<That is true,>> Efaen says slowly. She had not thought of that possibility, which is clearly evidenced by her expression. She seems to be slightly confused, as if the idea of permitting the Yeerks any allowances is more alien and befuddling than anything she has yet encountered. <<However, what is to stop these amenable Yeerks from resorting to their previous methods? They are masters of deception; it would be far too easy for dissenters to arrange a coup.>>
Trey leans forward, interested in Jasper's response, when one of the more unfamiliar patrons approaches Elayne. He is about to greet her until he sees that she is clearly reaching for his companions weapon.
"Hey!" He interjects, jumping to his feet so quickly that his chair tips over backwards with a loud thud. His still mostly full water sloshes dangerously as he shakes the table, spilling onto the warped wood.
-
They finally roll to a stop. Carris moves to kick her off, but Fiona, moving just faster, pulls a gun out of the holster she's kept hidden under her shirt. She points it at Carris' forehead, making him freeze.
"Listen to me," she says tightly, gritting her teeth. "I'm going to say this once, okay? It's over. No more. I can't give you Fiona back, and chasing me all over the galaxy isn't going to change that. Okay? She's gone. There's nothing I can do about it." She leans forward. "I'm not going to kill you, though hell if I know a reason I shouldn't. But I swear to God, Carris, if you come chasing after me again, I won't think twice about killing you. Understand?"
Carris nods jerkily. What else can he do?
"Good." Fiona stands up, lowering the gun to her side. She holds out her free hand. When Carris takes it tentatively, she pulls him up, then turns him toward the bar. "Go get a drink," she says. "You'll probably need one."
She watches him for a moment as he stumbles toward the bar. She sighs, then raises the gun to her temple and pulls the trigger.
-
We struck the Hork-Bajir's chest. We followed him as he backed up.
<You will be assimilated. Your resistance is a futile event that will only delay the assimilation of the inhabitants of this asteroid.>
I struck at him again. But then the gravimetric suppression field returned. We fell to the ground, <Your petty efforts to halt your assimilation are merely an annoyance. We will wait. If you terminate this unit, we will send a beter armed force, as we see fit.>
We relaxed the muscles of the Andalite body.
-
Temrash disengaged from Jagill's brain, and moved to Gremyyt's when Jagill bent down. Moving into the Andalite head was very different. He spent a minute or two gaining control of the body so Theta couldn't attack, then attempted to speak with a mouth that wasn't there. Of course. He'd need to use thought speech.
<You can release me now. I'm in control.> Temrash said, and Claxter released him. <Jagill, you'll need to be patched up. We can return to my ship for that.
<Actually I was hoping you could remain on board and just speak to Gremyyt for me.> Claxter said.
<I'll do that, but you don't have to worry. I'll help you, and won't go running off with Gremyyt. It will be best if I keep Theta under control until Gremyyt is properly freed.>
As they went to temrash's ship, Temrash tried to find information on Alvie and such.
<<Gremyyt. You there? My name is Temrash, and I will help you. Do you have any idea of a way to remove Theta from your body?>>
-
Another voice! No!
A yeerk...I had never encountered a Yeerk. I wasn't in the military long enough. Now one was in my head, controlling me...
It wasn't like how the Alvie controlled my body. They altered my thought patterns so that I was still technicaly in control of myself, but as an alter ego. The mechanical implants kept me straight and gave me synthetic powers. The Yeerk simply took control, plain and simple.
<<What?>>, I said, <<Remove...temrash? Theta? Mine?>>, I blurted.
-
<<You are an Andalite.>> Temrash said, feeding Gremyyt images of Andalites, as well as pieces of their world that he had seen in Dome Ships or holograms. <<You've been taken over by a machine, but you are a separate being. I want to help you become a free thinking person again, but I don't know how.>>
They made it to the ship, and stitched up Jagill's wound after giving him some sedatives. He had lost a fair bit of blood, so he was given a transfusion.
Temrash should be able to get all information Gremyyt knew just by scanning his memories, but he wanted Gremyyt to talk to him.
-
"What is that supposed to mean? ...Are you suggesting that -" Sapttus had jumped in at the mention of temporal discrepancies, but stopped when Jasper interrupted him <<ahem...>><<Oh, sorry. Figure out what this guy means though, okay. Maybe we'll fit right in here in this loony bin after all.>>. Starting again after a second's delay, Jasper said "You mean like time travel? Well, it was '97 when I left... I don't think we were in Z-space that long..."
At mention of 'the war', Sapttus jerked slightly. "Which war would that be, ma'am?" Did they know about the Yeerk invasion of Earth, and if they did, was that a good thing? <<Do we tell them?>> <<I'm not ->> "Whoa, Hey!" Sapttus shouted. He hadn't seen the girl (the same one who'd ignored them) reaching for the Dracon before Treyliss had jumped, spilling water all over the table, and inevitably all over his lap. <<Great..>> Jasper thought, though that was a minor worry. Here was some thug trying to swipe a gun, while some scuffle broke out near the door. It ended with someone blasting their head clean off her shoulders. And it wasn't a Dracon, so 'clean' was relative. In reality, it was a bloody mess. Jasper turned away and was about to vomit. Sapttus was able to stop that by blocking nerve impulses in ways that his friend couldn't. Then together, they got out of their seat, shouting, "What is this place?!?" <<Maybe this was a bad idea after all...>>
-
Danielle had been watching the events happening on the camera in the control room. She knew how to fix this.....
"Temrash!! There's a z-space tranciever inside his skull!! Thats how he gets direction from the Alvie!! It has to be deactivated...."
Danielle had spent time tracking criminals in the quadrant most influenced by the Alvie collective, and she had gained a vast knowledge of their technology.
-
Temrash was a little confused that she knew anything about the Alvie, as well as Claxter, but she was right. There was one in the skull. <Alright. The repair ship should have the best tools for the job. Thank you Danielle.> He said. He sent a message for two of the Human controlelrs to come to his ship, and explained to them what was going on. They brought their tools, and started working.
-
Danielle set the ship to auto and rushed down to where everything was happening to see if she could be of further assistance.
-
I thought for a second...
<<I...am Gremytt-Pekulon-Thelan. Yes...>>
then it occurred to me...a way out!
<<I...have not been taken over by a machine...but that is a...a different matter. It does not...concern anyone at the...moment.>>
I thought of something to tell him, <<I have a...z-space transceiver...2 inches...under my skull. It allows the collective to...control my musculature and...mind. The mini collective emitting from...my pod...is using it to...manipulate me. If it were...removed...>>, the mini collective halted my thoughts.
-
<It's two inches under his skull.> Temrash said as the repair crew worked on getting to it through the mechanical part of his head. Claxter and Jagill looked on in anticipation of success.
-
The ramp of Salem's ship opened with a slight hiss and settled to the ground. Salem blinked as he stepped out and looked around. His ship was now set up to monitor all Z-space alterations caused by Corliss's ship. He'd spent some extra time sifting through his other data, and then just resting, hoping Corliss would make an attempt to contact the Rebellion. That would have made setting up the monitoring system much easier. He couldn't wait forever, though, and eventually decided that he'd have to make do with what he'd set up, and calibrate it to attempt to crack and simulate its encryption later.
He breathed deep- the air of this place was starting to feel a bit like home to him. It wasn't quite the Andalite academy, but it had a certain charm about it. A certain... lunatic charm, he thought to himself with a smirk. He sighed and began walking towards the door. He would have to speak with Temrash about this situation. In the meantime, there were a number of patrons around the bar he wanted to talk to. He still wanted to attempt to trade with Ossanlin- the stubborn Andalite would crack eventually, he was certain. He'd left Elayne and Treyliss sitting at their table, and he still had discussions he'd hoped to have with them. And on top of that, his persona-imaging device had shown something rather odd about the one woman who'd been sitting at the bar building a castle of straws. He didn't know what it meant, but he was curious to speak to her and find out.
As he approached the door to the bar, though, he noticed a body lying on the ground. When he got close, he could see that it was, in fact, the very woman he'd been hoping to speak to. He walked over and knelt down next to her- the hole in her head didn't exactly give him hope for her still being alive, but nevertheless, he checked the pulse in her wrist. Nothing. Disgusted, he stood up, walked through the door of the bar, and looked around. He pulled out his persona scanner and began pointing it at the new faces, each time clicking a button and causing it to trill.
-
"There is another way I think, a way that would be less risky on the Andalite's sake." Danielle said. She had seen this method used once before. "A small electromagnetic pulse could be enough to disable the reciever without adverse affects to Theta."
-
"Let me see what I've got here." One of the repairmen said. He looked through his tools, and pulled out something. He pointed it at Gremyyt's head, and activated it, waiting to see if it would work.
-
"If you can, put it against his skin, so it doesnt have to go through the metal and weaken the pulse." She advised.
-
He did that, and Temrash felt a change. <I think something's happening.> He said.
-
"Is the Modular Interference Multiplexer- ah, I mean uh, has the Alvie reciever stopped recieving directions from the collective?"
-
The hatch to Carris' bug fighter opens, and Adam emerges, carrying a shovel a grey-green blanket. Carris is swimming in his little makeshift pool onboard.
Adam walks back to wear Fiona's body lies and drops the shovel at his feet. He leans down and gently pries the gun from her. "Only you would bring a pistol with you to space," he mutters, shaking his head. He goes to unload it, then stops, surprised. "Huh." He give the gun a shake, as though this will somehow magically dislodge a non-existent bullet. "Only you would bring a pistol with one bullet to space." He tosses the gun aside.
Unfolding the blanket, he drapes it over her. Then he picks up the shovel and sets off to find a spot to dig.
-
((Let's leave the mechanics of Theta's implants to me please. ;) ))
I listened with ears that were mainly feeding information to Temrash, and they were using an electromagnetic pulse to deactivate my transceiver.
<<Will not...work...recent updates have...immunized the transceiver...from such effects...it must be stronger. Fixedly Polarize the particle stream with...a static charge. that should increase..the strength...of the electro....electrom agnetic pulse.>>
-
Temrash relayed the information to Danielle as the repairman put the device away. <Go ahead and get to work on that. Though I am curios about how you know all this Danielle. What's your story?>
-
Her story? Danielle was nervous. She had given away too much, albeit she was trying to help. Oh well, might as well tell.....
"As I said earlier, I did some work in the quadrant most affected by Alvie. I said I did work which gave me knowledge about them, but I didnt tell you how. I was briefly assimilated into the collective, and I remember everything about it. That means I know how implants are installed, and possible ways they can be removed."
-
"I've been looking over all these other implants, sir." The other repairman said. "I don't think we'll be able to remove very much of it without compromising the host."
<What about morphing ability? Could we use that?>
"I have no idea. It might be best for the host's health is most of it is left intact."
<His name is Gremyyt. Stop reffering to him as a host.> Claxter said.
"Um, sorry. right. Gremyyt."
<Everyone be nice in here. We don't need any arguments in the medbay.> Temrash said. He swished the tail around a bit, kind of enjoying such a different body than what he was used to.
-
My tail moved!
As I explained, the Alvie mainframe literally diverts your mind to do what they want. You know this isn't what you wanted to do, but somehow it feels perfectly self-controlled. With this, it was completely against my will.
<<AAAH!>>, I screamed.
Then I realized it had been the Yeerk, <<Would you...mind...not using my...parts Please:..>>
-
<<Sorry.>> He said. That was one other thing he wasn't used to: an involuntary host. Sure that guy from the CG he controlled was involuntary, but he was evil and Temrash just ignored him. Gremyyt was a victim, and should be shown respect. He stopped moving any more than necessary.
-
Even though Illim has known the Yeerk is a nothlit for a while now, it still takes him by momentary surprise that she would have access to thought speech. Of course she would, stupid, he berates himself. Giving Terenia a smile, he says, "Well, I need to find Serid, anyway, so I'll tag along. I wonder how chummy those two are getting."
He peers around them and starts towards the direction of the nearest grassy area, figuring it's as a good a bet as any.
<<It is not without some measure of risk, of course,>> Serid says, <<but so long as they remain in a contained region with no access to materials that will grant them spaceflight, I do not perceive much of a threat.>> He gives an uncomfortable shrug and adds to Efaen, <<Of course, our military will likely not see any other option than... eliminating them outright at war's end. They will likely not cooperate with them at all; it would be too,>> he makes a face, << embarrassing.>>
Trey's exclamation of alarm comes at an ideal time for Elayne to both notice the weapon thief and avoid seeing the grizzly scene of Fiona's death out the window.
"What do you need this for?" she demands of the thief, but her attention is again distracted by the sound of a nearby Dracon shot, followed by Jasper's outburst.
"What the...?" she mutters, trying to get a look at what has happened outside, but at the expression on Jasper's face, she decides she doesn't want to see.
Cinching her Dracon holster tighter, she buckles the leather strap over the top of the weapon.
-
Salem stuck his persona scanner back in his pocket, adjusted his hat, and walked over to the table where Trey, Elayne, Taylis and a person he didn't recognize had gathered. Nobody'd touched his "briefcase" that was still sitting under the chair he'd used earlier. Not that he was terribly worried; it would be difficult for someone else to open, to say the least.
"What's going on around here?" he asked, settling into his former chair. The people at this table seemed very tense at the moment. The guy he didn't know looked positively shocked.
"Friend of yours?" he asked Jasper, jerking his thumb towards the door to indicate Fiona's body, which a man he didn't know was now covering in a blanket.
-
"Well, no, but... is this normal around here or something?!?" No one was seeming overly shocked or disturbed even. That wasn't a good sign. They both really just wanted someone to answer the 'where are we' question in a little bit more detail. "I take it you've been around here for a while as well?"
-
The antitransceiver was fired. I felt it start to take effect...I lost contact with the mini collective. I felt my self reasserting itself, no matter how slowly.
<<We...we are...becoming the assertive personality...>>
We? I had been saying I this whole time...why did I suddenly say we? Maybe I was just used to that?
I tried to control my thought-speak, but the Yeerk was still in control, <<Excuse...me? Could I have...my speech centers...back?>>
-
It's not long before Adam comes across the bar's graveyard. He grimaces, seeing that some of the graves look recently dug. Fantastic. He moves away from the newer graves and finds a spot more to his liking. He begins digging, muttering something under his breath.
-
Temrash released his control over Gremyyt's speech centers, as well as his head so he could look around. He was still concerned that Theta may regain control, so he held onto control of the legs and tail. They were still waiting for Danielle to give details on how to disengage the body from the collective altogether.
-
Salem shrugged, "Long enough to be used to the chaos this place breeds." He smirked at the look on Jasper's face, "Just stay out of the way of obvious conflicts and you should be fine. Actually," he said, pensively, "I should probably take my own advice. I've had more than a few close calls here. Name's Salem, by the way," he held out his hand for a handshake.
-
"Sounds like good advice..." Sapttus mutters. <<Yeah, I'll say...>> "I'm uh, Jasper." He said, taking Salem's hand. He hesitantly took his seat again, as if it might fight back, and took a couple chips from the basket, eating out of nervous habit. "So ... this place got a name?"
-
I heard Temrash's doubts in my mind...
<<Theta will not regain...control. Theta is me. As I told...you, it is not like a Yeerk taking over a bo...body. I am Theta. I am fully disengaged from the collective, as long as the transceiver is...unfun...ctiona l. The mini collective is the only collective in range, and...I will be able to deactivate it when I get to my ship. The mainframe cannot link to me because of the heav...heavy...heav y z-space interference the bar and the general vicinity emit. I thank...you for your services.>>
I slowly, painfully turned my stalk-eyes, <I have been released from...the collective. Thank you for your...assistance.>
-
Temrash felt he was telling the truth, so decided to have Jagill take him back.
<This is great!> Claxter said. <We can tell Prince Ossanlin at his earliest convenience, and perhaps he can help you get back to the Homeworld. Or possibly back into the military.>
-
Danielle watched with interest, yet stayed quiet to see what would happen next.
-
When the shot rang out - a real gunshot, not the Dracon and Shredder fire he had grown accustomed to - Trey jumped a second time, his ankle catching on the edge of his overturned chair. He just barely caught himself from toppling over backwards, clutching the table for balance.
What in the... he looked around for the source of the gunshot, but was almost immediately distracted by Salem's return. Feeling shaky, Trey bent down and hefted his chair back into an upright position, lowering himself onto it weakly.
"Galaxy's Edge Space Bar," he offers Jasper once his vocal chords seem to be working correctly once more. "It seems to be a place for strays to end up."
"This Serid person," Terenia says, falling into step behind him. "He's the one you had Corliss infest, right? The Andalite nothlit? What's his deal? Why would he be interested in talking to Efaen? She probably wouldn't be too happy to speak to someone like him. She thinks my own nothlitism is despicable."
<<Would the risk outweight the possible consequence though?>> Efaen asks, giving Serid a look that borders on condescention. Her next words are said with some hesitation, but the undermining intent is there. <<I do not mean to offend, but you have not experienced the sheer power of Yeerk control, nor how deep their drive for manipulation and deceit can run.>>
-
After Temrash went back to his hork-bajir host, Claxter talked about us returning to the military.
To Prince Xaero? To the andalite world? We think not...
<The military!? Never! Never! You will never take us back, Prince Xaero, we've told you time and again!>
We suddenly realized that our memories were surfacing again...but when we had said "we've", we were not referring to ourselves as a collective...
No...no...
<Tell you Prince Ossanlin that he will never take me to the military.>, I said stiffly.
-
"What did you have in mind then?" Danielle asked.
-
<All...right.> He said, surprised at the outburst. <I'm sure he will allow you to return to the Homeworld.>
"I just remembered something. I need to go talk to someone, so if you don't mind, claxter and Gremyyt are excused from the ship. You two should be fine to leave, yes?"
<Who are you going to speak with?>
"Confidential. You have your business to worry about, and I have mine."
<Thank you for your help. I owe you one.>
"You're welcome."
-
<No...not the homeworld either...>, we said, suddenly not as much angry as depressed, <It would be...too painful...>
I walked up to the Hork-Bajir, <Thank you for your help. We owe you more than we could ever repay.>
I started walkin out.
-
"Where you going??" Danielle called after him. She ran to catch up. "Where are you going to go?"
-
Temrash left the ship after Gremyyt, and headed to the bar. Fortunately Salem was there, and Terenia and Corliss was not. At least, he didn't see Mike or Serid. "Hey." He said as he walked up. "You have time to talk?" He gestured to a dark corner of the bar, and ordered a drink and went to sit down.
Claxter followed Gremyyt out, curious of his answer to Danielle's question.
-
I stared at the girl, <We...do not know...we may take up residence here for monetary provisions and such...we are not sure.>
Our heart burned with the heat of a thousand suns. We had lived with the minds of assimilated humans...now we could al most feel the tears falling down our cheeks. We almost wished we had been born with the ability to cry, as the humans. It releases the emotions, allows for a public display. It is too shaming to ask for help. When one cries, others around know the pain the individual inside is experiencing and can come to their aid.
Individual, we thought to ourself, That word has new meaning now...
I resumed my walk towards the bar. No longer a target for assimilation. It was now our...home?
Jaegis...
I stifled my emotions, but found it hard to walk...
-
She stopped walking, but after thinking for a minute she called "Maybe Temrash could find you a job on his ship. You could ask him at least."
-
Salem looked up when Temrash entered and smiled. Once again, he found himself standing from the table with a quiet "excuse me." He ordered a drink as well- Radonian Fyrquas- and walked towards the table Temrash was heading for. Once there, he sat down across from Temrash.
"Hey," he said, considering trying to make small talk. He decided it would be better to just get down to business. "That was... less successful than I'd hoped. This rebellion is obviously paranoid of computer hackers. That 'Corliss' walked in before I could finish." He frowned, "He's... insufferable. Guy was convinced someone had hired me to hack in. I set him straight, of course," he said with a wink. He folded his arms across his chest and sighed, "I'm monitoring his ship's communications now. He makes a few calls to the rebellion and I should be able to figure out how to simulate the encryption and give you the key for that. He hasn't made any calls since I've been watching, though. It's just a waiting and surveillance game doing it that way. I guess I could try a brute force hack again, but it's going to be harder now, and I'd still like to keep my options with the rebellion open if I can. Getting caught a second time wouldn't be good."
He sat thinking in silence for a few seconds, his lips pressed together, until a thought occurred to him. "Temrash, how different are Yeerk computer systems from Andalite computer systems?"
-
<Frivolities? Do you truly think so lowly of us? Do you not think that the depth of emotion and conscience might actually be another well to draw upon? It is a greater power than you give credit for.> Ossanlin continues along toward the bar, trotting out through the docking area. <I had thought your time amongst us would give you new view...a better view...I had hoped you would see our value and wish to enrich yourself along the way.> Ossanlin sighs as gravel and hard surfaces replace the grass. Apparently he was done feeding for the time being.
-
Temrash noted that Corliss figured someone must be behind Salem going into his ship, instead of salem just taking an opportunity by himself. He'd have to be careful not to let the guy or his girlfriend see him with Salem.
"Yeerk systems were mostly based on Andalite systems, but have diverged more and more over time to keep Andalites from hacking into it. The usual means Andalites would use would be the least effective, of course. I'm glad you were able to get something, and I thank you for that."
-
Taylis failed to get the dracon. The shot made her look at the scene of the spirit freeing herself from the prison that was this woman's flesh. Death of one so another can be free. She stood there shocked and mute for a few minuets.
"What do you need this for?" the woman asked.
<<She's talking to you,>> Amy mentally poked Taylis.
Taylis shock her head to free it of all the thoughts. "I was going to use it on her," Taylis said gesturing to the headless body that Adam was taking away. "I don't think I need it any more."
-
We shook our head, <We do not wish to serve aboard any vessel. Doubtless, in some way or another, we....would be serving the Andalites.>
We stopped short, <Andalite? What did you say your name was?>
-
After digging the grave, Adam quickly realizes he has a problem: Fiona's body is a lot heavier than he thought it'd be. He doesn't bother wondering what it must look like as he proceeds to half-carry, half drag her back to the bar's cemetery, regretting now digging the hole so far away. It's not like she'd ever know the difference.
When he finally reaches the hole, he attempts to lower her in as best he can. Instead, he nearly falls in. He catches himself, but drops Fiona in the process. He swears, looking down at her. Ugh. Not very dignified at all.
With a sigh, he takes up his shovel, muttering a disjointed prayer--though he's never been particularly religious--as he refills the hole.
-
Mar actually laughs at this statement of Ossanlin's. It is a bitter, horrible laugh with the weight of years evident in it. Mar knows far better than the idealistic Andalite War-Prince. He has seen too much to believe in mortal grievances or sympathy...though his current body causes him to think and feel as one does. Mar thinks of what he experienced near Elayne and stares onward toward the Bar.
He eventually clears his throat and says, "...how would you feel about such things if they betrayed you at every turn? My larger Mass carries the memories of every incarnation it has ever taken, and my mind is a copy of a single moment in Time in that Mass. Though I have added much to it since. Nearly every person I could have called friend has either betrayed me or died in a horrific manner. Most of the variations of Myitt I have known have not loved me. I have always benefited from ignoring such temporary shades, though I know of the great power they can bring. I have been killed by it more than once, War-Prince."
Mar then glances at Ossanlin and says, "...how in the world can I know that you and sweet Elayne are any different? I enjoy this pleasure immensely, but how permanent can such things be for me?"
-
<Claxter Karmesh Sinopul. Warrior, though more in name, than actual deed.>
-
Karmesh...
We stared at him...
<What was your father's name, Claxter?>
He did look like him...
-
Salem nodded, "I'm sorry it wasn't anything useful. I'll keep trying, and let you know as soon as I break through." He sighed, "The Yeerk systems based on Andalite systems... they probably use Z-space data storage, right?" He folded his arms, "That kind of limits my options. Flekteon might be able to extract hard-coded information, but the odds of them being able to manipulate the ship to find data stored in Z-space are not as good."
He smirked, "I could vaporize that ship, slowly, and record every atom, every quark, as I destroy them. Once you get past Heisenberg it's pretty simple. My computer should be able to reconstruct everything recorded on theirs, given a bit of time. It might require shooting a few rebels along the way, though, so I'd rather not try it except as a last resort. I might be able to access the information that way, but if it's properly encrypted, destruction of the ship would mean losing it forever. I don't know that Yeerks and Andalites realize it's possible to attain information like that, though, so there's probably a pretty good chance it isn't 'properly encoded.'"
He shook his head, "I'll try Flekteon, and keep monitoring his communications, unless you tell me you need the information faster. I don't want to take risks I don't have to."
-
<<Galaxy's Edge Space Bar... You'd think it would be a bit more... I dunno, more.>> Jasper looks around at the building they find themselves in. It was kind of a let down for a place with such a grand name. << I agree. It isn't exactly a five-star establishment.>> Jasper was still confused by the fact that no one was truly bothered by someone committing suicide right here in the bar. It reminded them of the Visser, and his ruthless enforcement. << I really hope that we haven't hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire by coming here.>> <<Don't worry, Jasper, it can't be nearly as bad as that. We just came at ... an inopportune time, is all.>> Or so I hope, Sapttus thought to himself.
"Well that's a rather fancy name for a place like this...." They laughed at Trey's comment about it being a place for strays. "Yeah, that's pretty much me. Guess I'll fit right in after all." Turning to Elayne, he asks, "And uh, what war was it you were asking about before... that happened? Unless I was really missing something in the news, then I don't think that there were any wars going on, at least none that the States were involved in....
-
Adam leans the shovel against the side of the bar. He briefly considers going back to the ship. He desperately needs to change, he muses, looking down at his clothes, which are pretty much covered in dirt and blood--very little of which is his. Charming. Still, going back means dealing with Carris...
Adam enters the bar, looks around briefly, then walks up to the counter, sitting down in front of the straw castle. The bartender approaches, flips open his notebook, and writes something down. He holds it up for Adam to read.
"Er... put her stuff on my tab, I guess," he says. "And, uh... you got any Mexican Coke?"
The bartender pulls a bottle out and sets it on the bar, popping off the cap.
"Thanks," Adam says, though the bartender's already moving off to do something else.
-
"I didn't know you could get information like that, though I don't want the skimmer destroyed if at all possible. Especially if it risks rebel lives. As much as Corliss annoys me, I'd still like to be on as good terms with his boss as possible. I'm not in a big rush to get the information. Take your time, and when you succeed, I'll give you the schematics for the prototype." Temrash said.
Claxter gave his father's name ((which I forgot. :-\)). <Why do you ask? You didn't...know my father, did you?> He wasn't sure he wanted to know why any member of the Alvie group knew his family. Unless Gremyyt knew him before hand. Unless...<Were you friends with my father? I think he might have talked about a Gremyyt once, but...>
-
Salem nodded, "Alright, slow and steady it is then. No rebel casualties if I can help it. That should be better for both of us. If I see another opportunity, or if I get really bored, I'll give hacking the system from the front end another shot. Only at minimum risk for either of us."
He smiled and stood up, grabbing his drink. "Well, unless you've got more clandestine business for me, I think I'll go try and get acquainted with that rather odd group of people," he said, nodding towards the table at which Trey, Elayne, Jasper and Taylis were gathered. "You're welcome to join us, if you like." He began stepping in the direction of the other table.
-
Temrash obliged. He went and took a seat next to Tayliss. "Hey. I'm back. I got that thing you asked me for, but I forgot to bring it with me when I took a small detour." He said, looking around for Fiona. He didn't see her, and something told him something must have gone down. There was blood outside, and he remembered hearing a loud unfamiliar sound beforehand. Tayliss didn't look too happy at the moment either.
-
I stared at him...,Vetaq-Karmesh-Zaerdeq...
<Vetaq...your father?>, My hearts burned again. I felt almost like I'd rather be an Alvist again.
<We knew your father, Claxter.He lived with us on Jaegis IV for a time. It was a good thing he left. You can conjecture the reason...>
-
Trey starts for the third time in a row when a huge Hork-Bajir decides to take a seat at his table. He clamps his jaw tight, gaze dropping to the wood as he tries to discreetly scoot to the side. His face is as white as a sheet from the combination of attempted theft, suicide and now this.
-
<<She might reckon you're the worst thing ever just because you're a nothlit,>> Mike offers, <<but let's not forget that she's a bloody hypocrite, Terenia. She might very well want to befriend Serid for her own perverse reasons. An Andalite connection that might be able to shed some light on what it's like to befriend someone in the Peace Movement? And a fellow Andalite-Controller, of a sort, to boot.>>
Aboard the Skimmer, in his isolated but comfortable pool, Corliss interfaces with the computer terminal via physical palp hook-up--a grooved metal surface that allows Corliss to connect to the Skimmer's communications and security systems.
He plays a sort of mental version of Pong, bored and above all worried, while keeping track of alerts the system might pop up.
I hate being stuck, defenseless, with nothing but surveillance and stupid games, he thinks bitterly. Meanwhile my friends are out there...confronting a childish psychopath...
-
Salem slid back into his seat. He noticed the look on Trey's face- he was apparently more than a little perturbed by this place. Not that Salem could blame him- when Salem was that age, he wouldn't have handled the Space Bar half as well as Trey was.
"Hey," he said to Trey, smiling. "You were starting to explain to me that you're... what, a human child of two Yeerks?" He shook his head, "I don't get it. You're going to have to explain to me how that works."
He then glanced at Elayne, "And you had more news about the state of time and space in this bar? Good news, I hope. It's complicated enough already."
-
Temrash hadn't paid much attention to Trey, aside from noticing he was about as jumpy as he'd seen Claxter. Salem said he was supposedly the Human child of two Yeerks, and Temrash gave him an interested sideways glance while waiting for Tayliss' reply.
<Yes. I can. He had some bad experiences there.> Claxter said.
-
We shook our head, <We were referring to the Alvie. Had he been there a day longer...is he still alive?>
-
Apparently, Jasper had picked the popular people table. He'd just gone to pull out his sketchbook to work in while they chatted, but then they had company.
As a Hork-Bajir and that Salem guy took seats at the small-ish table, he wondered how many more chairs could fit. Sapttus wasn't sure how to react to the Hork-Bajir sitting across from him. Should he act casual, letting on that this wasn't unusual to him? Or act frightened by the razor-bladed lizard monster? Before he could decide, Salem started to pick up a few conversations where they'd been left off, presumably before he'd arrived. The mention of Trey's ... unique... ancestry was both a relief and a shock. It meant that Yeerks (and other such aliens) obviously weren't viewed as evil or anything necessarily evil. Or so it seemed from what he'd heard so far.
<<So... you want to say hi now?>> <<Not yet. We will, just... not yet. Don't worry Jasper, the time will come up all on it's own.>> <<Okay. Should I uh, even let on that I know what Yeerks and Hork-Bajir are?>> <<Well... we *did* come in a Bug Fighter. That might just tip them off...>> <<Oh. Duh.>>
"That's... I've never heard of that before. I hope you don't mind me prying as well, but I'm somewhat interested in that, too." Jasper didn't agree with this really, but Sapttus extended his hand to the Hork-Bajir. "Hi, I'm new here. I'm uh, Jasper."
-
Ossanlin shakes his head as he continues inexorably toward the bar. <I cannot offer an opinion based upon immortality as I am indeed mortal. At least I was...I believe I am still. Obviously you are more constant than any mortal's tenuous existance. By nature you would lead a very long but lonely life. I suppose you would've grown callous and distant over the years, no longer allowing yourself to feel so that you will not have to experience the pain of loss.>
He turns his main eyes on Mar as he continues walking. <Death is a part of mortal life, as certainly as time is time. Some do not accept this, but many do. We know that every moment of existence is precious, because it will never come again, life is limited. But for a deathless being such as yourself, I suppose it must be difficult to accept that someone you love will pass from existence, change, and forget everything about you. I cannot make any promises as for myself or Elayne. I am no longer completely mortal...but I do not know if my...pact did you say? If my pact with the Ellimist will extend my longevity or not. But I can promise you as long as I am myself, I shall count you amongst my friends.>
Ossanlin turns his main eyes back on the bar. <And you can stop with your dark, maudlin attitude. You may be older than the ages, but you do not know everything. And I think you think you know more than you actually know. Pain is a part of the risk...but is the mitigation of pain truly worth the sacrifice of joy? And of love?>
-
Trey shifts uneasily as Salem's comment drew the attention of both the Hork-Bajir and Jasper. Suddenly all eyes are on him - a fact that makes him extremely uncomfortable.
"I, uh-" Trey pauses to clear his throat. He picks up his tumbler, which is almost completely empty after having spilled it, and tips it back. The small amount of water remaining trickles down his throat. Coughing, he begins again, his eyes never leaving the table.
"I probably shouldn't talk about it," Trey admits. "The whole time travel thing, you know? But, uh...yeah. So, in my time the war between the Yeerks and the Andalites is pretty much over. The Yeerk Empire lost, and the Andalites had to figure out what to do with all the Yeerks." The uncertainty in Trey's voice begins to clear as he recites the familiar story. He knew two versions; the one that he had been taught at school and the one his father had taught him. He stuck to his father's version.
"The Andalites, being power hungry and eager for control, wanted to send us all back to the Homeworld and initiate a quarantine. Or kill us all. But then, with the help of the humans, they discovered an even better option. Better for them, worse for the Yeerks.
All Yeerks were ordered to become nothlits. They were given the morphing power, given an animal and told to become that creature indefinitely.It would ensure the elimination of our race within one generation, but at the same time," he shrugs, "we would be able to watch it happen slowly. Most of the Yeerks were given awful, helpless bodies. Small birds and lizards and other useless animals, many with a shorter life span. My parents were among the lucky few granted human bodies."
He dares a glance up from the table to see the reaction of his table group. "As far as how I got here, well, pretty much the normal way for humans. But my parents are Yeerk, no matter what they look like."
-
Mar closes his eyes for a long while...and then shakes his head, turning to Ossanlin. "......no. It's not worth the loss of the feeling I remember. Which is why my mortal selves keep on trying, over and over again. On some level even the Mass must believe that if I just find the right person or situation, I will become familiar with love again. Mortality tends to betray me in the Games, though. Many times I have been genuinely in love with someone, but no one bothers to check. Thinking perhaps that because the rest of me is repulsive, I cannot love."
Mar then nods at Ossanlin and states, "...I know you cannot come back with me, much as I'd want you to. You have a place in this world, and I'm forced to acknowledge that fact. The Mass seeks to twist your world against you selfishly, but I refuse to be responsible for pain right now. Still...I would wish to give you something in exchange for the things you have given me. What does the War-Prince want in the world?"
-
The spirit opens her eyes and looks out at the bar. She notes that Carris--or at least, she assumes it's Carris--is gone. She has been sitting, or rather floating, in a tree since killing her host.
The noise, ever present when she's in this form, is just a quiet hum at the moment, reverbrating through her. It'll get louder soon, until it is nearly unbearable. For now, though, she has some time.
She floats down, and moves further into the trees, always keeping in sight of the bar.
-
<<....What? But... How could those filthy Andalites do that?!>> He'd become hopeful when he'd heard mention of Yeerks receiving the morphing power. Certainly not all, but many, many Yeerks would do anything to be able to see, to hear, to live without the cries and screams of some hapless host always pounding in their head. Even if it was in a different Earth - a concept which neither of them really grasped even yet - that idea.... it was the solution. Or at least, a solution, one that many would kill to be part of.
But... to be forced? To be shoved into defenseless, pitiful bodies of creatures that had markets built on their extermination? That was unthinkably evil, even for the Andalite scum. Jasper was twitching with Sapttus' anger and indignation. He didn't expect and wasn't ready for his outburst.
"We aren't snails!" He shouted. "Who do they think they are to just -" <<Whoa, whoa! Guess that time came pretty quick, huh?>> Jasper interrupted his friend's ranting. Sapttus fumed. He continued, yet with more control.
" - bully thinking, feeling beings into locking themselves away like that. Just because Andalites have their own eyes, ears, and legs doesn't mean that Yeerks are any less sentient." Jasper tried taking control again. At least Sapttus had changed to reffereing to 'the Yeerks' rather than 'we'. With a bit of effort, He convinced Sapttus to shove off control to his host, and he grumbled and argued quietly in his head. That made it easier for Jasper to speak, being able to pick out phrases from his mental ranting.
"I mean, they have a right to live as much as anyone else, right? It isn't like they chose to be parasitic. You... well, you have to work with the cards your dealt, right? That just... isn't fair." He scratched at his neck, hoping he could play off Sapttus' slip-up as a slip of the tongue, rather than slip of the slug. He felt very self-conscious.
-
"You may call me Temrash." He said as he shook Jasper's hand. Trey's story bothered him a lot. Giving Yeerks morphing power to go to new bodies, just to force them to be non sentient nothlits?
"There is nothing wrong with being a Yeerk." He said, choosing to ignore Jasper's blunder in revealing he was a controller. "Either way it is genocide. How did the Humans win the war? Surely six bandits didn't really beat Visser Three, even with the help of free Hork-Bajir. He's incompetent, sure, but he's not completely brain dead. I'm sorry this happened to your species, and hopefully it won't happen in our dimension. I'm currently trying to find an end that won't result in genocide or total infestation of either side of this war."
<He is still alive, though not in active combat.> Claxter said. <He's one of the few members of my family that's not compeltely supportive of the war effort.>
-
We nodded, <He was a fine associate, Claxter. Slightly pessimistic, and partially gullible, but a fine associate.>, I stated.
We smelled he fresh air, <Are there any avian species on this asteroid?>
-
<I do not know. I haven't really noticed much in the way of animals. However, I could introduce you to my friend Efaen. I asked for her help, though obviously I didn't need her much. I'm sure she would be pleased to know of our success.>
-
"I saw a few birds earlier." Danielle said as she walked to where they were. "I believe I recognized one as a snow bunting."
-
Salem listened to Trey's story with growing interest, and surprise. For the most part, his face remained expressionless, save a few moments when his eyebrows raised involuntarily. From what he'd seen, there should be no way the Andalites were capable of winning the war against the Yeerks. Where he was from, the six 'bandits' that Temrash had mentioned had indeed driven the Yeerks from Earth temporarily, but the decimation of the Andalite fleet in the Anati system had served to turn the war completely against the Andalite empire. The Yeerks were an adaptive, capable, cunning species. The only advantage he'd seen the Andalites had was a lead in the technological race.
The fact that the Yeerks were even physically capable of being given the morphing power also surprised him. He shrugged internally and attributed it to his lack of understanding of Yeerks. It wasn't really the question that was at the forefront of his mind right now.
The genocide of intelligent species- it had been a long time since he'd heard of a situation like that. The slow, painful elimination of Yeerks from the reproductive cycle that Trey was describing was almost worse than the Verrim or even Faseracens were capable of.
Salem listened as Jasper and Temrash responded- Jasper seemed very impassioned. He was obviously close to this war. Salem had been lost in though and had missed his comment that revealed his true species. Temrash had claimed to be working towards some sort of compromise end for the war. Salem had all but taken it for granted that no middle ground could be reached in this particular conflict, but now he started wondering if there was a way. Not that it was really any of his concern.
He shook his head, "That is twisted, even for the Andalites. If I'd known they were capable of that kind of thing, I might've thought twice about taking their side in this war. Jasper's right. Every species has a right to life and survival." He caught himself and stopped talking. Lately, it wasn't like him to have strong opinions on the affairs of other species. Still, his days aboard the Esprit had left him with nothing if not a sense of justice, in addition to the myriad of skills being a space pirate tended to require.
"I guess I can see them approving such an action, when they let people like Jamil-Herifas-Halennen become part of the Electorate. I'm a little surprised the humans of this time would okay the nothlitization of the Yeerk race." Humans of this time period had always struck him as impulsive, unintelligent, backwards, and naive- one of the few opinions he shared, at least in part, with most Andalites. Genocide was not something he could really see the Human race at large condoning. Again, he shrugged internally and chalked it up to his lack of knowledge about this time period.
Salem looked at Trey as he spoke, "The Yeerks must be viewed as more of a threat than I'd realized. That, or as less 'people.' Until I came here, I never really knew a Yeerk, and even I could tell that they... that you... are a race deserving of, at the very least, a certain degree of respect."
-
I thought for a moment, <Wgat species us this "Efaen.">
-
<She's an Andalite, like us. I like her a lot. she's pretty and...well, she's a new Warrior who was unfortunately infested for the past five years. Now she's free, and I intent to help her remain free and lead a happier life. A Yeerk named Terenia has been controlling her, and even though she's free now I doubt Terenia will let her remain free. She's very dependant on Efaen, and wants Efaen to think she also needs Terenia.>
-
Our head dropped, <We...we do not care. You may call your associate.>
We thought of Pizali...as beautiful an Andalite as there ever was. She...she...
<Yes, we do not care.>
-
Serid says nothing for a long moment, pausing to choose his words carefully. <<You... speak with some degree of... familiarity about Yeerks' nature.>> His tone is neither accusatory nor inquisitive. Rather, it is flat. Matter-of-fact.
"Yeah, but you're a Yeerk, whether born that way or not," Illim shrugs, glancing back at Terenia. "At least Serid's one of her own, in some form or fashion. He sure as hell is as stiff as an Andalite." He gives a glum shrug. "Who knows, they're probably plotting the demise of the rebellion or something."
Salem has sat, left, and returned before Elayne has taken her eyes off Taylis. To the would-be thief, she says, "Yeah, well, maybe you should ask next time. I don't particularly want to go around this place unarmed."
She turns back towards the much larger group now sitting around their table. She is glad the newcomer, Jasper, has given up his pretense of playing dumb; clearly he knows quite a bit about Yeerks, as well as the precise war she meant. His background and timeline, however, are still a mystery. The fire with which he responds to Trey's story interests her, and evokes an emotion she hasn't felt in quite a while.
It is not ultimately Jasper that she addresses, though. Rather, she looks to the Hork-Bajir. "You shouldn't ask these things. Let everything develop naturally in your timeline so it doesn't have unforseen consequences. Trust me on this one. Just because this happened to Trey's parents doesn't mean it'll happen to you."
-
Temrash looks to Elayne. she was supposedly from the future as well, and brushed him off the last time this topic came up with him in earshot. "This is the fate of my people we're talking about. If we lose, I'm supposed to just except genocide either by destruction or nothlitism? If I was willing to just let things happen naturally, and accept the consequences of that, I would have left this war already. Now using information from the future of my dimension or another isn't exactly a common thing to do, but unless you think the fate of the Yeerks is fair and just, you can't just stand and watch it happen. I won't just stand and watch it happen."
Claxter picked up the communicator to call Efaen on the one he gave her. <Efaen. Are you there? I have successfully freed Gremyyt from control. Would you like to meet us somewhere?>
-
Ossanlin stops, looking over at Mar. <Do you really think so lowly of yourself as well? Would something so gruesome continue to try? Would something unable to love continue to seek it? You might be a bit hard on yourself Mar.>
He continues toward the bar, the building growing closer. <What do I want? Hm...the impossible. I want a peaceful end to the war, both Andalites and Yeerks living in harmony with the Galaxy. That's what I want.> Ossanlin chuckles a bit, looking back at Mar again. <Think you can manage?>
-
Mar smirks, putting a hand on Ossanlin's shoulder. "That's a pipe dream, and you know that Ossanlin. Even when I make it back, I cannot stop the wheel from turning. I am not a native user of this universe....there are others whose Game demands a much nastier war. I would... try to do it for you, even if chaos and hate tend to suit me well. But I'm simply not in a position to interfere, and mortals have more control than I'd like to admit."
They're getting closer to the front of the Bar, luckily. It has been a strange walk, in Mar's opinion. "...at every step you remind me of someone I know. ...I told you this once. You are older and wiser than he psychologically, but that damnable idealism remains in you both. Not much I can do but run into such people, is there?"
Mar chuckles at this thought. His benign posture and his pleasure make him seem far more human than he was when he entered the Bar.
-
Luckily, no one mentioned or seemed to take notice of their little mistake. Jasper was quiet now, and pulled out his notebook. He flipped to the last page he was on, and picked up where he'd left off on his sketch of the Methodist Hospital he was drawing. He drove past it everyday on his way to work, so he knew that building pretty well. He brushed off some eraser shavings and began busily shading and outlining some of the finer details. It wasn't one that he was really proud of, but it was a decent sketch. One could recognize it as that hospital, at the least.
While his pencil scritched and scratched on the page, his and Sapttus' thoughts pondered Elayne's advice, and Temrash's comments. In regards to the Yeerk-Andalite war, what could you consider to be "natural development"? That seemed to be an interesting notion. This wasn't something that you could compare to previous wars in any history he knew of. Well, you could look back at the Hork-Bajir invasion... or any of the other planets they'd taken hostage. But then again, the only real antagonists the Yeerks faced for all those scenarios were the Andalites. So that made it even more of a puzzle.... what was natural for a situation like this? In a scenario when entire races are fighting for not only survival, but freedom, what kind of action could you expect to be "normal"?
He'd have to think about this one for a while.
...And there was something really wrong with this window. He flipped the pencil and aggressively rubbed away the troublesome marks.
-
Ossanlin stops and continues looking at Mar. <I was only joking of course, I could not ask you to make such a monumental change. But that's what my aim is, no matter how hopeless it happens to be. It is...strangely touching to know that you would try to go so far against your own nature for the benefit of me, a mere mortal.>
<I do not know what I want that you can give Mar...I do not come close to understanding your abilities, or even my own. I wouldn't ask for repayment for friendship anyway. And even if I did, I daresay your friendship would be enough.> Ossanlin smiles just a bit, not really caring to move closer to the bar. It was more than likely that that Battousai was waiting in there for him...more violence...more death. It never ended.
-
Turning his eyes to the door of the establishment, the young Battousai kept himself ready. It wasnt that long of a distance from where Ossanlin had been to back here...
I can accomplish this mission without a doubt, from first glance anyways, He thought to himself, But I wonder what makes this being so special for such a high price? And if this is how this is going, what can I expect to come?
-
Mar stares at Ossanlin, looking him over with care. It's true that he's not in a position to give Ossanlin the ridiculous dream he's after. Even if he were in Crayak's place, it would damage him too much to go through with it. But something ebbing at him since he entered the mortal realm says that Ossanlin would deserve at least an attempt on his part. He hasn't the slightest idea what to say to this.
Mar eventually states, "...mm. In my world, there cannot be something given for nothing in return. The trouble is that I cannot alter things as easily here. Really all I can give you for certain is power in my own world...or perhaps an access point to the Mass. Though even that might interfere with what you already possess. Besides, my abilities are controlled by emotion. Without control over them, they can eat a mana being alive."
Mar stares at the door and mutters, "...are we going in to face the battousai? I may not be much help to you. I was never able to generate protection in any form, and in this body my spells are limited to the control of motion."
-
<<I->> Efaen's stammering response is cut off by the comm link in her holster going off. She removes the device, and depresses the button, allowing her thought speak to translate through to Claxter.
<That is good news, Claxter,> she isn't entirely sure why he feels the need to tell her of every little success. All this means to her now is that she will have another Andalite to contend with on the planetoid. A prospect that is, surprisingly, not all that exciting. Thus far the Andalites she has met at the bar have been...different. <I will liaison with you shortly. At present I am engaged in conversation.>
She returns the comm to her holster, where it is squeezed next to the Imperial issued device that has been shut off for most of her presence at the bar. Hastily, she closes the flap, hoping that Serid does not notice the Imperial logo.
<<I have been involved in this war for some time now,>> she says finally, the words sounding lackluster even to her.
"Likely," Terenia mutters unhappily to Illim. It isn't too far of a stretch for her to imagine the two of them, huddled over a list of rebellion members to take out, one by one. Still...something Mike has said...
<<Do you think we could use Serid to help us out? He was a Controller, after all. Voluntary enough, or so it seems...>>
She sighs, scanning the area for any sign of her former host. "I think we went the wrong way."
Trey shrugs, clearly uncomfortable. "I don't think...I think Elayne's right.I probably shouldn't talk about it too much. It's dangerous." He shoots Jasper a curious glance at his odd behavior, but says nothing. He is still unfamiliar with Yeerks in their natural form, and isn't quite sure what the slip up means.
-
Temrash regretted that Trey didn't want to say any more, but didn't want to force him to talk. "That's fine. You've told me enough." He said. So Earth was the turning point? He would need to make arrangements. Get some information on the Andalites that opposed Visser Three. He wondered how much time he had. Months? Years?
-
"Thank you, Temrash, but the matter working itself out do a sorry end," Taylis sighed. She looked again at the person she tried to steal the dracon from. "I'm sorry I was just trying to save a woman's life. Speed was of the essence. I don't mean to leave you unarmed for long."
Then Trey started taking about his back ground. It made her shift in her seat. There was a part of her that thought the Andalites were geniuses for thinking of the idea. Yeerks that had bodies of there own without the constant presence of the host could be a great benefit to Yeerks like her that just wanted freedom. Her mind was abuzz with questions. How did Trey parents get to acquire humans? How is a real body feel different than a host body? Why did Temrash say that there are only six Andalite bandits?
<<I just you want one of those cubes that the Andalites have,>> Amy said. <<Look opening your mouth here will do you no good. Everybody at the table may jump you if you say that the Yeerks had it good in that future. Plus every subway riding bone in my body doesn't want to stick around that guy that had the out burst.>>
<<Good idea,>> Taylis said. She saw that Carris' host walked back into the bar looking like a mess. She sat next to him and was silent. She was offering something that she wished she had when Larry died; a person to talk to that that understood the pain.
-
Adam doesn't acknowledge Amy's presence. He just sits there, occasionally drinking from his bottle, and contemplating Fiona's straw castle. Something about it is bothering him, though he can't quite put his finger on it. Besides, it was giving him an excuse to not have to talk to someone who apparently like to meddle and encourage people who were out of their minds.
-
Ossanlin lets the matter drop about what Mar can give him, maybe the being can think up something later...Ossanlin is certainly not after recompense for friendship. He sighs, looking at the door again as well. <I fear I will have to. I'm hoping to at least find out the name of his employer before anything happens. He doesn't yet know that I'm his mark. The only help I would ask, could you spare it, is a cede of energy to ascend if I must. He seems unusually...strong. ..for a human or Yeerk or whatever he is.>
Ossanlin nods to Mar again before pushing open the swinging saloon-style doors and trotting into the bar. He scans the room and notices the human sitting at a table sipping wine. At least there was that...perhaps there was still a peaceful way out of this, if there wasn't, peraps his opponent would be at least a bit tipsy if it came to a fight.
-
With a savage smile, Okaru thought to himself, Im never wrong. Haha.
He then leaned back slightly leaving his blade on the table, clearly a challenge.
-
Ossanlin looks Okaru over, not noticing the blade on the table as he is not versed in human swordsman etiquette. He walks up to the bar and orders a non-alcoholic spritzer. He doesn't want to dull his own reflexes with alcohol if they turn out to be necessary. After the BT hands him the drink and trots over to the table where the human is sitting. <I would offer to buy you a drink but i see you already have one.>
He moves to stand across the table from Okaru, setting the glass on the floor and dipping a hoof in. <So...you said you were paid to find Ossanlin? He's a very busy Andalite. Just what do you need to speak with him about?> Ossanlin smiles warmly.
-
Elayne purses her lips and nods. "I understand," she tells the Hork-Bajir, but, first of all, we don't even know that we're from the timeline; your future may hold something completely different from Trey's and my reality. Second, we can't know the outcome of other scenarios, so what if they're even worse? What if the Empire completely takes over Earth and, eventually, the Andalite homeworld? I'm supportive of Yeerk rights," she says, raising her eyebrows, "but I don't particularly want a Yeerk in my head. How can a compromise be reached? It wouldn't, if the Empire had its way."
Serid follows the motion of her hand, and perhaps he would have typically noticed the familiar insignia, but his fatigue, at least, made him miss it. <<I see,>> he responds, lifting his eyes and frowning at her. <<If you would accept a word of advice from a lowly aristh,>> he murmurs. <<I would not typically be so bold as to offer it, but we have both had... strange paths to this place, it seems, so I imagine you would be more open to unorthodoxy than most of our race.>> He shifts his weight and slowly clasps his hands behind his back. <<A sanctimonious tone from an individual with a path like yours is... unflattering, if not outrightly hypocritical.>>
"Alright," Illim nods, easily conceding. He turns around with a grin, the rocks making a rough grinding sound under his feet. "You pick this time. Maybe you have a better Andalite radar than mine."
-
"Obviously it would be bad if the empire took over the whole galaxy." Temrash said. He didn't say he considered that a lesser evil, since he did value his people over others. "I'm just worried, and when I hear of futures where my people are wiped out through one method or another, it doesn't ease my worry. In my timeline they recently lost the Leeran Homeworld, which was a pretty big hit. They're currently looking into the Anati system for prospects. I'm worried that if Visser Three wins Earth they'll actually promote him further or even put him on the council. I don't know what will happen if they lose Earth, but it's an important goal."
-
He could only shrug, ''I need to find him. That much is all you need. Do you know of him?''
-
<<Hey,>> Mike insists. <<Turn the other way, towards the softer ground. You saw them just a minute ago, didn't you? Clear as anything. Hoof-prints. Unless there are a lot of deer in those woods, I'd reckon we follow them.>>
-
Efaen stops in her tracks, her main eyes narrowing as she regards the nothlit aristh.
<<Aristh Serid,>> she says stiffly, <<You are overstepping your bounds. You know nothing of my path, and therefore have no right to offer judgment. There is no hypocricy in my intentions, nor in my actions, and I beseech you to locate one instance in which your claims are justified.>>
Trey finds himself slipping gratefully back out of the conversation, as those with more at stake begin arguing and posturing. He is fine with this, and silently watches the volley of conversation shift between those seated at the table.
<<You're right,>> Terenia realizes, berating herself. <<That dapsen Illim was distracting me.>>
"This way," Terenia says, turning to angle back the way they had come. It only takes a few seconds for them to reach the tracks Mike had reminded her of. A set of hoofprints, side by side with human tracks. She glances down at them before looking at Illim with raised eyebrows.
-
Salem watched as Jasper pulled out a large pad of... paper? He smirked. He hadn't seen somebody use actual paper in ages. It was an Ennish thing, in his mind. And that book didn't look remotely Ennish. The thing he was using to mark it... Salem didn't recognize it in the least. He might have to ask him about it later. For a moment, he was curious to get a look at whatever was recorded on the pages, but he was quickly distracted by the discussion between Temrash and Elayne. He vaguely noticed the way Trey backed off from the conversation- he had a few more questions to ask, but they weren't urgent.
He looked at Temrash. The Yeerks in his timeline were looking into the Anati system. That was curious. It seemed he was from an earlier time in the war than Salem had experienced. Salem hadn't done a lot of asking around about people's backgrounds, but the fact that the people here were not only from different realities, but different times within those realities, did surprise him somewhat.
Most of his attention now was on Elayne, however. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at her, trying to figure out why someone would so adamantly oppose the use of information from their future. His first thought was TWF... but that was absurd, wasn't it? They didn't exist here, and even if they did, talking to people in bars wasn't really their style. So why...?
He looked at Elayne as he spoke. "I'm with him, personally," he said, nodding towards Temrash. "If you know one potential fate, and it's awful, why not try to change it? Even if it's only a related set of consequences, and not guaranteed... There might be unforseen consequences. In my experience, most actions have them. But not at least trying to fix it... that would kill me."
He glanced at Temrash, "She's right, though. This war is being fought by species whose hatred of each other is becoming more deeply ingrained with every passing day. I'm having trouble imagining either Yeerks or Andalites willing to compromise." He wasn't so sure about the Yeerks, but Elayne had seemed pretty sure that the Empire wouldn't compromise. He knew from experience that most Andalites were specist to the point of isolation.
-
"My general idea of bringing out this compromise is to first eliminate the Council. Then if I can make it so the strength of both forces are equal, and get someone in power willing to talk to each other, maybe we can do something. If the Electorate refuses to talk...I'll deal with them too. This war has to end, one way or another, without genocide or total infestation. There has to be a way." Temrash said. "It all stemmed from the council pulling the strings. Once they're gone, I think things will be easier."
Claxter wonder what Efaen was talking about to...whoever that other guy was. It seemed to him that she had a lot on her mind, and he wasn't sure if he should try to be near her for support, or give her space to think.
-
"You make it sound so easy," Elayne snorts at Temrash's plan. "No offense, I mean, I think a compromise would be great. But don't you think that, if you ousted the Council, a new one would just be appointed in its place? There's no shortage of want-to-be leaders in that culture."
She turns her attention to Salem but doesn't answer his question. Instead, she just folds her arms and watches him. It's not only because it would impact her that she wants to avoid anything drastic happening to her past, but it's certainly a large part of it
<<My apologies,>> Serid bows his head, although he continues to watch her out of narrowed eyes. <<Still... you have made intimations that you were once a host. Am I incorrect in this assumption?>>
"Oh hey, nice find," Illim says, raising his eyebrows and following Terenia and Mike. "And yeah, looks like they're definitely plotting our demise." He grins and lengthens his stride to walk beside them.
-
"Yes there are plenty of Vissers who would like to become a new Council, and not all of them are allies of mind. Still, not all Vissers are as bad as others. Some can be negotiated with. It's not going to be easy, but I need to stay optimistic. It helps keep me sane."
-
Salem smirked at Temrash's comment, "Temrash, you're an ex-Visser, right? Jeeze... I could never do that. Turn on the Empire the way you have, I mean. Like you're saying, accomplishing your goal would be hard enough. But then you've got the constant threat that one of your so-called 'allies' will sell you out and you'll have the Council's troops on you before you can blink." He shook his head, "I guess I gotta give you credit for sticking with it. I'd have been in an institution long ago if it were me."
He caught sight of Elayne watching him, and took the expression on her face to be one of judgment about his attitude on changing past events. "What?" he asked, perhaps a bit too defensively. "Look, I learned a long time ago that I had to take every advantage I could, because the universe wasn't great at giving me advantages on its own. What difference does it make if your advantages come from knowledge of things to come or from somewhere else?"
-
"If any of the people I call my allies were going to turn on me, they would have done so by now. Besides, it's not like they have a list of people I trust. They try to sell me out, and they could wind up dead. The only ones they'd know are loyal is the Council themselves, and even if they were high enough tot alk to the Council directly their days would still be numbered."
"I'm not saying I'm perfectly sane right now. I don't think I'm insane, but I'm not sure anyone should bet on my word. I'm a fighter, Salem. I'll fight until I die."
-
"Perfect," Terenia says humorlessly. She sets off at a jog, a sense of urgency setting in now that she knows the two Andalites are likely together.
<<I have made no implication of that manner,>> Efaen snaps, her tail muscles tightening reflexively. <<If that were the case, though, it would be honorable enough to note that such slavery has been overcome. The People should be aware of how potent a threat the Yeerks are, and they should also be made aware of the fact that it is possible to overpower such a threat, if one only has the strength of mind.>>
"There!" Rounding a corner Terenia can clearly see Efaen outlined against the dark forest and speaking with the nothlit she recognizes as Serid. She increases her gait, not bothering to check and see if Illim is following.
-
<<This is the best workout I've 'ad in years,>> Mike says nervously, as they quickly approach the Andalite and her nothlit companion.
-
<Oh come now Okaru was it? As I said, the Prince is a very busy being...if he's to talk to you he ought to at least know why. He can't simply allow strange beings to demand his attention at all costs.> Ossanlin shrugs. <I wouldn't be talking to you if I didn't know of him, but he won't be willing to be forthcoming with you unless he knows the reason as to why you seek him.>
-
Without much else to do, Claxter began walking to where he thought Efaen might be, figuring Gremyyt would follow.
-
''I was payed a large price, to find him and speak with him of urgent matters regarding his father.'' He stated tapping his chin with a pointer finger.
-
Ossanlin furrows his brow. <His father? I see, it sounds serious.>
Ossanlin sips some of his drink through his hoof, this human was as skilled at misdirection as himself it seemed. <Odd that Command wouldn't have contacted him...they can reach him easily enough and I know his father is a scientist of some importance on the Homeworld, I would think that his own government would contact him.>
He tilts his head in thought for a moment. <May I ask who paid you this large sum?>
-
''As you are not Ossanlin himself, then Im sorrry but no.'' He replied calmly, then scratched his chin thoughtfully.
-
<<Exercise is good for you,>> Terenia says. <<It's not like you get to run around on the base.>>
She hesitates. The gap between herself and Efaen is closing. She notes that they seem to have stopped walking.
<<So, what's the game plan? Do I tell her I'm me right away? Or go in as Corliss? Or you? Or is this all just utterly insane?>>
-
<<I don't know...I don't know!>> Mike exclaims, panicked. <<Which one of us would she be most likely to believe? Would she believe it coming from you? I thought you'd thought about this already!>>
-
<I see.> Ossanlin finishes his drink and kicks the glass a bit further under the table to have a stable footing should it be necessary. <Well, information has a price, Okaru, and all I'm asking in return is more information. If you tell me who paid you to find Ossanlin, I will tell you directly where he is...my word on it.> Ossanlin continues to scan the room with his stalk eyes, but his main eyes are glued directly on Okaru, intense and bright blue, glowing ever so slightly now thanks to the Ellimist's touch.
One of Ossanlin's stalk eyes finds Mar...<<This may become ugly soon my friend and it is likely I will ask for your help. If he responds as I think he will, I am going to try to move him outside at the least to avoid collateral damage.>>
-
Okaru stares at the Andalite for a moment, "Very well. I was payed by an old aquaintence of his father's. He has not been capable of findin his father so he hired be to find the son instead."
Slowly closing and opening his fist, he stared daggers.
-
<Hmm..."an acquaintance" doesn't quite answer my question and so I will only give you a partial answer as well, Ossanlin is currently somewhere on this planetoid. Now, if you'd care to give me this acquaintance's name I will be glad to be more specific about his current location.> Ossanlin continues to smile warmly and openly, noting Okaru's hostility.
-
Mar notes Ossanlin's comment and makes a quick nod of his head, trying to make it an imperceptible gesture. <...I will do what I can. My own energy will not do for powers like yours---I would have to use some of my stored food. I suppose that is little problem considering the circumstances, uncomfortable as it may be. Note...>
Mar thinks on the matter, trying to determine how best to explain it. <...the samurai possesses raw power and skill of some kind, but he is of a type I have seen before. His connections to the world may be more pliable than he realizes, due to the strain of such power on a mortal form. Take advantage of this, if you can. And try not to exhaust your abilities either. We are both vulnerable, me in this untrained body and you with many injuries. >
-
Taylis knows that Carris will speak when the time is right for him. She twirls her black hair with her finger while she waits.
-
Danielle heads back to the ship and monitors her companions' life signs. There was nothing significant she could add to that conversation anyways.
-
''If you really must know who it was then just, go yourself, find him and bring him here. I will tell him in front of you. But there is nothing more I am willing to say.'' He stated simply.
-
Elayne raises her eyebrows at Salem and shakes her head. "It matters when they impact others. Don't tell me your an individualist, only concerned with your own welfare?"
At Temrash's declaration, she folds her arms, watching him curiously. "You paint a stronger image of deterrence from the Empire than ever existed in my timeline. Yeerks were too afraid to step out of line, not only because of what might happen to them, but what might become of their rights and abilities if they cost their race a victory."
<<Strength of mind?>> Serid echoes, his tone derisive. Then he composes his features and gives a polite nod. It is best, after all, to treat an Andalite with a tail blade ready to strike with deference, especially if she is his ranked superior. Still, he wonders just how idiotic she thinks he is to say something like that. <<I am sure you are to be commended, Warrior. You have done what even the great War Prince Alloran could not.>>
Upon hearing a voice, he turns his head to see who is coming; it is two human figures, both unfamiliar, at this distance at least.
Illim rounds the corner after Terenia, panting for breath from trotting after her and Mike. "What's your plan?" he asks, perhaps too late.
-
Ossanlin gives Okaru a bit of a crestfallen look. <Ah, then it seems we unfortunately do not have an accord. There is no reason for me to help you. You have given me a partial answer and I have given one back. At any rate I thank you for the conversation and impressive demonstration of your skills on the battlefield. I wish you luck finding the Prince on your own, I believe it will be more difficult than you think.>
Ossanlin turns back toward the bar, exhibiting relaxation, though in truth a stalk-eye continues to watch Okaru and his tail is ready to strike at any treachery.
-
"Plan?" Terenia repeats, Mike's panic coming out a bit in her voice. "I, uh....guess I thought I'd wing it. Too late now."
Efaen lets a snort of contempt escape her nose slits, but further commentary is arrested by the arrival of what appears to be a very exhausted Corliss.
<Can I help you?> she asks, not even trying to keep the condescension from her tone.
"I, uh-" Terenia gasps, pulling up to a stop just out of tail reach of the Andalite. "Efaen, listen, I need to talk to you."
<Then talk.>
"Yeah," Terenia runs a hand through Mike's dark hair. "Yeah, okay, so..."
<<I can't think of anything! You do it!>> she throws herself out of the conversation, relinquishing control to Mike.
-
Mike stands there, abruptly lurching back into control of his own body, and he nearly staggers. He looks around, bewildered, and then stares at the Andalite.
"I...erh," he stammers. "Efaen. Efaen, I was wondering. If...you'd...listen to a proposition my brother and I have for you."
He sucks in a breath, glancing warily at Serid and then continuing, his gaze on Efaen's main eyes.
"You see, we have a unique opportunity to build a relationship between the Yeerk people and the Andalites. More than we ever have with War-Prince Ossanlin, or..." Again his gaze flickers to Serid and back. "Or with anyone else. We need your help, you see. Your vast knowledge of both the Yeerk Empire and the Andalite military make you invaluable. More valuable even than Terenia."
<<Sorry, sorry, I'm making this up as I go along!>> he cries, swallowing before continuing.
"If you would consider joining the Yeerk rebellion in order to conduct subterfuge against the Yeerk Empire, we would be honored to have you. You have my word, whether you take it is no concern of my own."
Frantically wondering what Corliss would do in this situation, he bows his head slightly to show his gratitude, and his complete vulnerability.
-
<<No, don't talk about it like that!>> Terenia cries in frustration. <<She has to think she's sacrificing herself or something. That this will bring her honor. She doesn't give a rat's ass about working with the rebellion.>>
True to Terenia's prediction, Efaen looks offended by Mike's offer.
<I have already indicated a desire to remain with Prince Ossanlin and his crew,> she states sourly. One stalk eye focuses on Serid, watching his response. <I have no desire to associate with your kind and your leader has made it clear that he feels similarly. Is it not enough that I am letting you live?>
<<Great,>> Terenia sighs internally.
-
Standing slowly, Okaru gripped the hilt of his blade, ''Why do you gaurd this andalite so fiercly? Is he family?''
-
Mike's cheeks burn hot, and he's grateful the woods make it hard to see how stuck he is.
His tone of voice, however, exudes Corliss' calm after a cautious clearing of his throat.
"Wait, Efaen," Mike calls. "If we were to, say...make you an unofficial prisoner of the Yeerk rebellion, your people would try to find you, would they not?"
-
Ossanlin chuckles a bit as he continues walking away from Okaru toward the bar itself. <I suppose you could say that in a manner of speaking. But I have to wonder what would make you say I'm "guarding" him? I see no reason to freely give you information when you give nothing in return. Only a fool gives something away for nothing. And what exactly would I be 'guarding' him from anyway? Didn't you say you only wanted to speak with him?>
Ossanlin stops as he reaches the bar, ordering another drink.
-
Okaru stared, ''If you are not Ossanlin himself you would not know the being who hired me.'' He called to him
-
Ossanlin glances back at Okaru with his main eyes as he waits for his drink. <Then what harm in telling me? Well, I guess it doesn't matter anyway does it? You won't tell me, and if you don't tell me I won't tell you. It seems our business is at an end.> He feigns indifference, gesturing at Mar to join him at the bar if he should so desire.
<<What do you think, my friend?>> Ossanlin sends a private thought to Mar.
-
Efaen glares at Corliss suspiciously, searching for some sort of trap.
<If I were taken prisoner it would stand to reason that a thorough search would be conducted,> she says. Her voice is confident, although in truth she is not sure. She has been gone a long time, and only a minimal search was carried out to locate the captured aristh she had been. A minimal search followed by a hefty bounty on her captor. Would her people redouble their efforts if they knew she was caught within the rebellion? She did not know.
<<She's so full of ****,>> Terenia snorts. Her moment of panic has fizzled out, and now she is feeling distinctly embarassed for shoving this conversation on Mike. She does not attempt to seize control again, though, afraid that Efaen will be able to see past the guise created by her host.
-
Mar follows Ossanlin in the direction he was going and states telepathically, <....I don't trust that creature at all. He seems to be only looking for you, but I do not doubt that he may cause us some kind of trouble. What's baffling however is that he said that someone you know ordered the hit on your life.>
Mar pauses in his thoughts, and then shrugs. <....no. I can't think of a single reason why someone in your family would be after you. Do you not have at least functional relations with the Electorate?>
-
Serid watches the Andalite, his suspicions regarding Efaen's past seeming to be more and more justified by the moment. This must be Terenia's former host, he surmises.
Looking to Illim, he wonders aloud, but privately, <<What are you doing here?>>
Illim raises a single finger to tell Serid to wait until this has resolved, not wanting to step into the middle of it. He is far more intrigued by this game of coercion than with the prospect of getting his billfold back from Serid.
-
Adam continues to ignore Amy. He briefly considers moving, but to be honest, it feels like more trouble than it's really worth at this point. Instead, he finishes his coke and orders another. He continues studying the straw castle, frowning and fidgeting with a stray straw.
-
"Then, naturally, if you were to join us and we were to make your presence at our facility known to the Andalite Electorate, they would have no choice but to find you," Mike continues calmly. "Of course, finding you would be rather difficult. But you would be sacrificing yourself for the good of your people. Your so-called freedom to return to Ossanlin's fleet, you must understand that for all the War-Prince's best intentions, those higher than him in the Andalite hierarchy will have you returned to your home scoop at once."
He steps closer to Efaen, wary of her tail, but determined. "Don't you understand? If you give up your freedom to be with us, and if we divert the vengeance of the Andalite fleet by arranging to return you to them, you would be a war hero. The only Andalite to know the workings of the Yeerk rebellion and to report back to your people about it. Yes, the information you see would be on our terms, not Ossanlin's, but it would be real information. And, if you decide to stay...or, if the Andalite fleet simply cannot find our location..." He shrugs. "The sacrifice would be all the greater."
-
Salem grinned and shook his head at Elayne, "Not in the utterly selfish way you're implying, no. I do have a conscience, believe it or not. My actions seem to have consequences on others that make me think I should have just stayed at home. But that's kind of my point. I'm perfectly capable of causing bad things to happen without temporal assistance. At least if I knew what might happen I could try for something better." He smirked, "Most beings I've met would agree with me. What is it that makes you different? You're not a Yeerk, so... what, then?" he wondered allowed, half to himself and half to Elayne.
Salem noticed Ossanlin at the bar, trailed by Mar and... someone with a sword. Salem smirked. He'd never seen any use for the silly things, not on a modern battlefield. He'd have to keep an eye on Ossanlin- he wanted to speak to him before he left again, at least. It seemed the War-Prince was more at home in the areas near the bar than actually in it, and Salem figured he'd have a hard time finding him once he left again.
After a few seconds, Salem looked back at Temrash, thinking for a moment. "You make it sound like you've got influence to rival the Yeerk High Council, but if that were true, they'd be all but done for already. Instead you're hiding in this non-place. I think you know as well as I do that most Yeerks must still be loyal to the Council, and from what I've heard, the Council can offer great rewards for loyalty. Why shouldn't the ones you trust turn you in? After all, the Council trusted you for long enough to make you a Visser, and look how that worked out for them."
-
"I have a lot of pull, but I can't get to them. They're paranoid, and don't let anyone near them that they don't implicitly trust. By the Kandrona, I can't even get to Visser Three, and and he doesn't have twelve other people posing as him to ward off assassination. Everyone under me has their own reasons for not betraying me, and maybe I'm not too worried about it partly because I'm not afraid of dying. Maybe I'm a little more unhinged than I think I am. I'm just not going to start questioning what I have as long as what I do does some good."
-
Okaru stared at the Andalite...what would be the point in gaurding a being so closely? Was it family? Friends...or...
The man did say he would be one of a kind...an andalite weilding blades....
He slowly stood and walked beside the andalite and leaned on the bar, ''See...the thing is. I remember my contractor mentioning that ossanlin would be a one of a kind Andalite. One wielding blades...''
-
<Prince Ossanlin vowed that he would allow me a combat position,> Efaen says, her thoughts rising sharply as she defends herself.
"Prince Ossanlin?" Terenia asks, seizing control over Mike's vocal functions. "The same Andalite who you consider a traitor for dealing with Yeerks? How do you know he isn't lying to you?"
<How do I know that you are not lying to me?> Efaen counters. If she has noticed the switch in control she shows no indication, and Terenia quickly retreats again. Efaen's main eyes flicker up and down Mike's body, as though searching for an ulterior motive. The truth is, he has touched on her worst fear. The idea of being told to sit out the war, to return to the homeworld, is unacceptable.
And yet...
<How would diverting the Andalite forces in a search for me help us?> she asks. <If this so-called rebellion is in fact a separate faction all it would accomplish is pulling resources away from the bulk of the Empire. I would not be a war-hero, but a cause for catastrophe.>
-
<Did he? How interesting...> Ossanlin accepts his drink from the BT and places it on the floor, dipping his hoof in to drink. <It does seem like a fairly defining feature doesn't it?>
-
"That is of course assuming that we will, in fact, contact them to look for you," Mike replies, still reeling from the shift in control, but trying hard to maintain his composure. "And assuming they'd bother to send more than a scout ship or two after your sorry hide."
-
<So you first attempt to bribe me by saying the fleet would look for me, then rescind your previous comment and say that you may not even contact them?> Efaen scuffs one of her hooves derisively. <This is beginning to sound less like a proposition and more like a threat.>
-
Mike shrugs. "You're the one who's convinced we're all a pack of rotten liars," he replies. He smiles faintly. "Why not play into your expectations, Andalite? Suffice it to say that this is your last chance to give yourself up for the good of your people. We will contact them, and they can very well attempt to find you, with their massive depletion of sources that I'm sure a scout ship would entail. But mark my words, Efaen. You won't be anything more than a civilian girl on a transport ship to your homeworld once Ossanlin's superiors find out you've been found."
He sighs, giving a last glance at the two Andalites, and turns to go.
-
Okaru slowly pulled the hilt softly, drawing an inch of the blade forth, ''Well...I cant help but wonder then...''
-
<<Nice,>> Terenia whispers appreciatively in Mike's head. Efaen says nothing to him, privately or otherwise. She looks as though someone has hit her with the flat of a tail blade. For a few moments she seems to be struggling internally; finally she looks to Serid with a glare of what could almost be interpreted as accusation.
<And what do you make of these Yeerk lies?> she hisses. <Sacrifice my well-being to live in a cesspool of Yeerks? And for what? My people will not send me to the homeworld. They cannot. They will not.>
She hesitates briefly.
<Will they?>
-
Mike glances back, barely even pausing in his stride.
"I think we both know the answer to that question," he calls, and he continues walking.
<<Oh, man,>> he moans. <<Are you sure that was good enough? She's one hell of a twisted girl, inn'she...she knows how to turn everything against you!>>
-
<And just what is it you are wondering about, hmm?> Ossanlin sips his drink, leaning his arms a bit on the bar counter, main eyes examining the glass bottles behind the counter with only a single stalk watching Okaru.
-
((may be mistaken. If i am im sorry, im pretty sure tho that i remember u sayin he carried blades))
Okaru tapped the hilt of one of the Andalite's own weapons, ''Never seen another Andalite with one...''
Kicking the bottom of his sheath, Okaru watched as the blade flew till the hilt rested in his hand, mere milimeters from his throat.
-
Salem nodded and raised his glass slightly in Temrash's direction before taking a drink. He smiled as he set the glass back down and said, "I respect that attitude, at least. Constantly looking over your shoulder would make it tough to get anything done."
-
We followed the andalite.
<What are we doing?>
-
((Crap. I meant mere millimeters from the Andalites throat))
Okaru glared daggers at the alien, his blade unwavering.
''Who are you? Where is Ossanlin?''
-
<I'm going to find Efaen. Personally I don't have much else to do. I'm in no hurry, though.> He said as he backtracked. <If she needs me, she has a communicator.>
"Thank you, Salem." Temrash said. He was starting to like the guy. He'd been keeping his eye on his surroundings, because of Morgan and the unfamiliar people. One of them pulled a sword on Ossanlin, and he pulled his dracon and held it under the table. Sword or not, what Human would draw a weapon on an Andalite? What was this guy's story?
-
Serid watches Efaen impassively a moment before murmuring, "I do not know the specific policies for your situation, but suffice it to say that the military does not typically endorse... unorthodox training as a substitute for combat or warfare experience. It is possible that he speaks the truth."
He isn't sure why he is helping the rebel, except that Illim is standing not far away, and he feels a sense of gratitude for the Yeerk for helping him away from Earth and releasing him as promised.
Illim waits for Terenia and Mike to walk off before approaching Serid. "Thanks for holding my billfold for me."
The nothlit glances at him and then fishes the wallet out of his pocket, offering it to the Yeerk.
Illim opens it and sticks a twenty--half the cash he has left--into Serid's hand so he's not left to fend entirely for himself, and turns to walk away with a jaunty little wave to Efaen.
Elayne rolls her eyes. "It might make it tough to get anything done, but it keeps people alive. Like I said, your plan sounds great, except you're too confident. I hope you have a contingency plan in case it backfires."
To Salem, she says, "And I'm exactly what I look like. I'm a rare, uncomplicated case."
The sight of Mar in the Bar again distracts her, and she leans to the side to watch him around Salem's head.
-
Ossanlin's upper torso remains completely still, his tail whipping its blade to the outside of Okaru's neck, also mere milimeters away. <Are you sure you want to play this game human?> He makes no effort to move his neck and watches Okaru calmly with his main eyes.
-
Okaru slowly grinned, ''Human? Not just.''
He then flipped the blade around with the blade down towards the floor, and spun it towards his tail.
-
Salem chuckled and responded to Elayne, "There's a difference between being cautious and being paranoid to the point of paralysis. It's a line I've found it's better not to cross."
Neither Temrash nor Elayne seemed to be paying a whole lot of attention to him- both were looking in the direction of the bar. Salem turned in his chair to see what they were looking at, just in time to see the guy with the sword and the War-Prince with blades at each other's throats.
"The hell...?" Salem wondered allowed, quietly reaching into his jacket and drawing his small neural pistol. He didn't aim it anywhere yet, but he wanted to be ready. With his free hand, he cranked the dial on it to a moderate setting, and kept the gun close to his body, against his chest- he didn't want to be too obvious about waving it around. As far as he was concerned, it was suicide to threaten even a normal Andalite when within range of his tail blade, and from the little he knew of Ossanlin, he'd already gleaned that the War-Prince was even more dangerous...
-
<<Think that'll work?>> Terenia asks, shifting back into control as Mike propels them away. She resists the urge to look behind her every few seconds, to see if the Andalite is following.
Efaen's stalk eyes narrow as one shifts to the retreating figure of Mike and the other remains focused on Serid. The Andalite nothlit is correct, of course, and that fact irritates her. She should be able to trust her own people, to depend on their word. Yet the only true Andalite in a position of power on the bar has shown himself to be a traitor.
<This is a sad galaxy we live in, aristh,> Efaen says with genuine remorse. The next words that she delivers are delivered privately. <<I do not know where you will fall in this war, aristh Serid, but I ask you a favor. On your honor, if our people request any information regarding my whereabouts you deny that this conversation never occurred. This is not a favor for the rebellion. Our cause will only benefit if our people know that I am using the rebellion for information pertinent to the war effort. Either deny your knowledge of me or ensure them that they would be at a disadvantage searching for me. When I have enough information to topple this so called rebellion I will find a way to contact them.>>
Efaen takes a deep breath, turning towards the path Mike followed. He has gained some distance, but that is not a problem for Andalite legs. She can feel the weight of the war settling on her shoulders in light of her decision, and she stands straighter, welcoming the challenge.
<I sacrifice myself,> Efaen says to Serid, <for the good of The People.>
She takes off at an easy trot in Mike's direction.
-
We stared at Claxter, <Do you have a sample of this andalites DNA? If it is it which we are looking for, I may be able to track them for you?>
-
<No, I do not. She won't be going anywhere soon, I don't think.> He said as he reached where she had been. <Seems she is no longer here, but maybe she went to see Prince Ossanlin.> He started towards the woods, hoping his Prince would at least be within sight of the treeline.
"I don't have much of a contengency plan." Temrash said, remaining casual while keeping the Human in perephrial vision. "I'm just working on gathering help any way I can."
-
Keeping one stalk eye on Claxter, We scanned the surroundig area. Then we followed.
<Is it very important that we find this Andalite?>
-
Ossanlin moves his tail away from the human's neck...he has little doubt that he could've injured the human had that been his goal. He whips his tail to parry the sword, kicking his glass towards the human's feet in an attempt to distract him as he steps back, moving toward the doors of the bar. <Violence is not appreciated here human...stand down.>
-
''Answer my questions outside or here. Tis your choice. But they will be answered.'' Okaru stated as he sheathed his blade but stood at the ready.
-
<And what right do you have to demand anything of me? I do not know you, and all I know of you is that you accept money to hunt beings. Did you ever consider having a pleasant conversation with someone instead of demanding answers and threatening lives? Asking questions of me in such a manner will only cause me to be determined to not give answers.> Ossanlin scoffs, glancing at Mar.
-
<<Can't be sure, but...>> Mike pauses, straining to listen through ears that aren't his to filter sounds through. <<I reckon we're being followed by hooves. Hahah! I can't believe it. That sort of rot actually worked? Hurry and see if it's her, I can't stand the suspense.>>
He smirks inwardly, his thoughts racing about the bizarre and pompous mental condition the Andalite girl must be in to cave in to such a ridiculous proposition. Sacrifice yourself by single-handedly destroying an allied faction from within? The thought was laughable...and yet...
-
Taylis didn't come to this bar to fight but still took a hold of the blade in her hand bag. She would watch but make no action unless she was threatened. She didn't know who was in the right (or even if any of the involved parties were right) so jumping in would be stupid.
-
Jasper had somewhat tuned out the conversation going on around him as he worked. Sapttus was still fuming silently, contemplating the ramifications of the Yeerk Genocide that had been brought up. Eventually, they both just settled to watch as the hospital filled up with detail; it was something they both enjoyed. Jasper looked up briefly at the sword and uh, tail fight-to-be broke out. He forced himself to look back on his page and not worry about it. Though, they both were very concerned. This place was a madhouse. As soon as he could, they'd have to find out where the next closest inhabitable planetoid was, and get out of here as soon as possible.
-
Adam glances over his shoulder, seeing the fight. "What the hell?" He shakes his head, turning back. He doesn't need to get involved in some strangers' issues. Especially not when one of those strangers is an Andalite.
-
<<She won't succeed,>> Terenia says quickly, reading Mike's thoughts. <<Maybe once she spends some time among the rebellion she'll even believe that you both more or less want the same thing.>>
Unable to contain her own excitement, Terenia stops Mike's body in its tracks and moves to the side, glancing back the way they had come. Her heart leaps when she sees Efaen's form, tail held high, trotting towards them.
<<It really worked,>> it is clear from her amazement that she had not expected such a success. She tries, with some difficulty, to emanate calm as she waits for Efaen by leaning against an old ship hull and crossing Mike's arms across his chest.
<I have conditions,> Efaen says without preamble, skidding to a stop in front of Mike and Terenia. <You will not be permitted to perform a memory dump of any sort on me. You have Terenia to vouch for my memories, and I will not allow the intrusion. If an opportunity for combat or espionage arises, you will allow me to utilize my skills as a trained Andalite warrior. If I request to be sent along on a mission, I expect my wishes to be honored.> Her main eyes bore into Mike's/Terenia's as she speaks. Her thoughts come across as angry, tinged with the usual bigotry as she talks down to who she believes is Corliss. There is something else there as well, though. Excitement, perhaps?
<Finally,> Efaen concludes, <I will not, under any condition or any circumstance, allow one of your filthy kind to inhabit my skull. Those days are over. I will not sacrifice my freedom.>
Terenia's excitement, which had been soaring, took a nose dive. Her hands, which had been clenched in excitement, shifted into fists of fury.
<<What the hell use will she be if I can't have her as a host?>> Terenia demands, knowing that her anger is obvious on Mike's face.
-
Mar scoffs at Okaru, staring over the exchange between the two men. His expression is confident and smug. He believes his friend is more than capable of handling the bounty hunter, powerful as he may be with the sword. Mar, just in case, begins to prepare an energy reserve for Ossanlin's use as a Silver Blade. He's aware that this takes energy out of him, but hopes that the Mass will back up the exchange.
"Think yourself so great and mighty that you can demand answers from the point of a sword?" states Mar, chuckling. "There are beings frequenting this Bar stronger than you yet, young fool. Although...this place does have a habit of equalizing those who enter. If my Andalite friend will not help you without proper information, it is best not to start a fight. It may involve more than just us three."
Telepathic messages are a bit trickier now that Mar's forwarding energy to Ossanlin, but he tries to give the War-Prince the sense that he'll back him up.
-
Okaru's eyebrow arched, ''Being a swordsman makes me good at only a few things. One is seeing auras. Or energy paths. You give enough of your own energy to this being to possibly hurt yourself if I were to mortally wound him...why?'' The confusion on his face was etched for all to see.
-
<<Cool it down, love, you're going to give me a bloody hernia!>> Mike exclaims, watching Efaen through Terenia's hard stare. <<Give me control. Please. You're going to blow this whole thing if you don't!>>
-
<<Take it,>> Terenia says, her upper lip curling slightly before she finally succumbs, allowing Mike full control. In the passenger seat, she continues to seethe.
-
Mike takes a deep breath, calming the echoes of Terenia's nerves.
He smiles broadly at Efaen.
"You will have your conditions, of course," he replies, relaxing his stance and folding his hands behind his back.
-
<And they will be honored,> Efaen says, her tail muscles tensing as Mike's face shifts from fury to something more casual. <Unless that is a problem?>
<<You know what that means, if she doesn't let me back?>> Terenia snaps, <<It means everyone has to actually live with her.>>
-
<<She'll let you back,>> Mike says stubbornly. <<If you'll recall, we humans can lie just as well. Reven won't allow her presence on the base any other way. Even now it's...he wasn't too keen on it the last time round.>>
He clears his throat and keeps beaming at the Andalite girl. "Why would it possibly be a problem, Efaen?"
-
<<What, you want to kidnap her?>> Terenia scoffs, <<Reven won't let an involuntary host on the base either.>>
Efaen glares at Mike, waiting for the catch. When none comes she cautiously lowers her tail several inches. <Very well, then. If we have reached an acceptable agreement, let us proceed.>
-
Mike stares at Efaen, blinking.
<<No, we can't bloody well kidnap her, either,>> he says, frustrated. <<She'll have to come along...and perhaps when Corliss returns she'll let you back in, like she always does. Though she thinks I'm him, and we'll have to be secretive about it. Ughh, this is a terrible plan! I'm no good at this, Cor's the one with all the bright ideas!>>
He shakes himself out of his daze and plasters the smile back onto his face.
"Um, well, why don't we start by heading to the Skimmer?" Mike says hesitantly. Without waiting for a reply, he turns and brushes aside a couple of branches, heading in the direction of the Yeerk ship.
-
Claxter didn't find Ossanlin or Efaen around the woods, and didn't want to search too deep. Maybe Efaen had gone to the bar. If she wasn't inside the bar, he'd call her.
-
We moved next to Claxter, <Is this matter of finding this andalitrle very important?>
-
<It gives me something to do.> Claxter said. <I don't exactly have any other assignments, and rarely even speak to my current Prince.>
-
Staring at the person in question, Okaru fixed himself up to be more relaxed.
He then looks into his eyes, ''I will step outside. To calm the adrenaline, then I will return and try to handle myself better...i apologize...'' He was confused himself, as to why he was apologizing and being respectful but he knew this being now had his attention more then the Andalite.
-
Mar frowns at Okaru, confused by this display of actual respect. No one in the entire Bar other than his friends had demonstrated anything of the kind. He had hardly been polite to Ossanlin, so there was no reason it would be any different with Mar. It almost suggested that the young man could...but no, even that did not make sense. If the swordsman could see what Mar really was, he'd be more abrupt in his speech.
".....can you see anything behind me, swordsman?" stated Mar cautiously. He wasn't thrilled with the nutjob trying to kill Ossanlin, but it was best to judge what he was capable of before making a move. Mar sends a mental note of concern toward Ossanlin.
-
Prince..., that word angered us more than any other. For no real reason. Except that we'd had bad dealngs with one Prince in the past, and his intentions had been positive.
<We scanned the area where we were only 10.5 seconds ago. I detected the DNA patterns of many creatures, including approximately 5 andalites.>
We used the hologram emitter in our abdominal support to display the five andalites.
<Were any of these your Ossanlin or Efaen?>
-
<That's Efaen.> Claxter said, pointing to her.
Temrash put his weapon back, since the Human was going outside. He didn't know what kind of power he had, but Temrash looked at Ossanlin with a questioning expression. Of course he couldn't use thought speech, but Ossanlin might notice him and know he was wondering if the Andalite might need some assistance.
-
As Claxter pointed to the female andalite, I stopped. The image froze.
<Processing...>
I looked at the results of the scan I took. I saw the trajectory the DNA residue took.
<Her general trajectory is towards the ship yard.>, I stated.
-
<Thank you. Let's head that way then.> He said, and trotted off to the shipyard. He wondered if he might run into Corliss there. He didn't like Corliss for multiple reasons, not the least of which was his connection to Terenia.
-
Suddenly Okaru's eyes shifted slowly to turn a dark shade of lavender, and he looked at this being again, ''What...what is that?''
He seemed to be looking at a vast number of life energies swirling behind him...
((sorry if thats not how it was supposed to be =P))
-
We followed Claxter as he headed off towards the bar...
-
Serid snorts, his expression steely as Efaen leaves. He chooses to say nothing else to her, instead turning to Illim. "You had better go, lest you be abandoned here. Perhaps she is right: perhaps they are not to be trusted, these rebels."
Illim gives an easy grin. "Don't worry about that, buddy." He pats him on the shoulder and then says, "Oh, I almost forgot." He pulls a drivers license bearing Serid's face out of the wallet and hands it to the nothlit. "Best of luck in your new life, Serid." He turns on his heel and follows after Efaen, Mike, and Terenia, stuffing his hands in his pockets. <<We may not get to eat just yet, Derrel, but soon,>> he says apologetically to his host.
Elayne watches the fight in surprise but her interest wanes once it ends quickly and Mar is unharmed. She sighs as she listens to Temrash and shakes her head. Not like I had much of a contingency plan, either she reminds herself.
-
Danielle started back towards the bar. She couldnt stand sitting around doing nothing. As she got closer, she saw Gremyyt and another person going in as well. She started following them.
-
Salem watched Ossanlin, Mar and Okaru for a few more seconds, with his eyebrows raised. He didn't know what was going on over there, but it looked like a fight wasn't going to happen. He sighed and stuffed his small pistol back inside his jacket pocket. He turned back and nodded at Temrash.
"At least your plan's flexible, from the sound of things." He looked around the table and grinned, "Speaking of flexible, I'm a trader. I have quite a bit to offer, if any of you have anything to offer me. In fact, in a first trade with me, I'll practically give you something for nothing." He winked at Trey, then glanced at Jasper and Elayne, before pulling his "briefcase" from under his chair and setting it on the table. "Anybody care to see what you can get for something as simple as a sample of your genetic code?"
-
<<It's ok.>> Derrel said. <<I hope all three of us will be ok.>>
Claxter noticed the Human from Temrash's ship following them. Or it looked like she was following. She might just be walking in the same direction as them. He slowed down from a trot to a walk, in case she was trying to catch up, but didn't say anything.
"Ever the opportunist." Temrash said. He wondered if he should give Salem a genetic sample of him. "Go ahead and show us. Not that I promise anything."
-
Danni caught up to Gremmyt. "Did I miss anything important? I went back to the ship for a while."
-
Seeming to just suddenly appear in the bar, a muscular man with long flowing red hair, and unique chrome steel eyes, walked to the bar from the shadows. His sultry deep voice emmitted softly, ''Martini on the rocks..'' and the BT quickly started on his drink.
Turning and leaning back he spotted a man wielding a sword, near an Andalite. They had momentarily been near a fight, but something was said that calmed the nerves of the swordsman.
Diteca suddenly became highly interested as he spotted the Andalites ally up close. The Mass..?
-
<<We've got to get out of here.>>
<<No. We're fine. It's going to be alright.>>
<<What makes you think that?!? Since we've gotten here, we've been ditched by the first person we saw, pushed past like we were a hobo on the street, nearly got ran over by a flippin' Andalite, ->>
<<Jasper, chill, it's ->>
<<WATCHED SOMEONE COMMIT SUICIDE, learned of planet-wide Yeerk Genocide, sat down to chill with a Hork-Bajir, - >>
<< -Come on man, it's okay. I can handle this.>>
<< And now we're pretending to ignore a sword-n-tail fight not three yards away! Not to mention the fact that you already flipped out with the oatmeal.>>
<<Now that's enough. You know there isn't much I can do about that.>>
<<What are we doing here?>>
Jasper had stopped drawing as they'd begun 'discussing' their current state inside their head. As he grew more agitated, he'd begun tapping his pencil on the book, and furrowing his eyebrows. He looked somewhat frustrated. Sapttus calmed his facial expression a bit, and sighed heavily.
<<We're finding a place where freaks like us can fit in.>>
Salem had asked a question, which seemed to be open to him. Both of them were rather intrigued by this offer for this vague 'something'. They lean forward, pushing aside their present concern for the time being. Jasper was only partly acceptant of Sapttus' response.
-
Salem smiled and opened his case, from which he began pulling an eclectic assortment of small objects, and setting them on the table.
He talked as he did so, "I obviously can't trade the really good stuff for something as simple as a DNA sample, but I can let you guys pick one of these little fun items. These are EMP patches- activating one will give you a couple minutes in which most electronic devices won't work, at least relatively close to the patch. A DNA sample's worth... we'll say three. These are Ennish crystals, which'll probably only be interesting if any of you've got natural strength in magic or telepathy." He cast a sidelong glance at Elayne as he said this. He still wasn't entirely clear on what she was, but her attitude towards the future was starting to make him think she might be a taker for the crystals. "This is a vial of healing nanites- I'd inject you directly, and they'd live inside you, warding off sickness and healing wounds til the end of your days. Should add a couple years of health to your life. They're only tuned for humans and Andalites and, conveniently, Hork-Bajir," he said with a wink to Temrash. "This little kit will upgrade Shredders and Dracon Beams with a sight attachment. It should work on most other pistol-type weapons as well. Let's see... I've got a bunch of Furka stuff I think you'd all like- Slick Brenda's paint mixing instructions, manufacturing directions for Sparkle-Be-Good fabric, a collection of literature and art from the entire galaxy where I come from, joke products- nobody plays pranks like Furka. And these," he said, setting a collection of small, finely crafted, ornately decorated, oddly shaped knives in equally impressive sheathes on the table, "are Paladinian blades. Extremely high quality, guaranteed sharp for life."
He looked around the table and grinned. Hopefully someone around here would prove to be a reasonably profitable trading partner, and nothing seemed to help reel them in more than a collection of items like this one, passed off as his "cheap" stuff and given away for what seemed like nothing.
-
<Healing nanites.> Temrash said to Jagill, running it past him.
<Make me better fighter. But salem get my DNA. What was DNA again?>
<It's the stuff that makes you an individual. Various things can be done with DNA. In situations like mine, though, it wouldn't be hard to get a DNA sample from spilt blood or whatever.>
<Do it.>
"Okay, Salem. I'll let you have a sample of Jagill's DNA for some of those healing nanites."
<We're heading to speak with my friend Efaen.> Claxter said.
-
<<Right, she'll just let me in once she realizes I've been here the whole time,>> Terenia says dryly. <<Brilliant.>>
Efaen hesitates only for a moment before following Mike, her every nerve wrought with tension. A million scenarios are playing in her head, each ending with some elaborate Yeerk trap. She pushes them aside, reminding herself that she is doing this for her people. They are worth any risks to her own life.
She does not speak to the Yeerk again, resolving to engage in conversation only if he initiates it. There is no reason to speak with someone so far below her. Instead she holds her head and tail high, stalk eyes twitching irritably as she waits for a nonexistent ambush.
She does notice a Illim off in the distance, the same human Controller that had arrived with Mike. She has little interest in him unless he draws a weapon, so she does not mention his approach.
-
Elayne raises an eyebrow as Salem looks at her. Surely he doesn't think I could use that... He must be referring to Mar. Not sure his abilities, but I doubt he needs anything like that.
"This would've all been more useful a few months ago," she smirks at the trader. "Interesting collection, though."
Serid watches the strange parade recede into the distance, then sways. "Tired," he murmurs aloud. He begins walking towards the Bar, the only place he can think of to find both sleep and food, especially now that he can no longer enter the Madra. He wishes Illim had just turned it off--something that could only be done from the inside--but he supposes it served as another level of protection, and he could not blame the Yeerk for not lowering his defenses.
Illim wanders after Efaen with a sigh. A $20 bill, an empty holster, a portable Kandrona, and a ship: that's all he has to his name. It sure isn't much. He hopes the rebellion has a steady supply of food, for both him and Derrel.
-
The human from the ship followed us. Claxter explained our goal.
We turned one stalk eye to him, the other three focusing on the DNA residue of the Efaen-Andalite we had picked up, <We have found the trail of residue. We are approaching the andalite; the residue is fresh.>
We continued following.
<There appears to be two human DNA trails coinciding on the same trajectory as the Andalite's. Associates?>
-
Claxter thought about that. Two Human individuals walking with her? She was talking to one earlier, but now another had come and she was heading to the junkyard. Or was she just walking to the bar, and would pass by the junkyard to get to it? He pulled out his communicator, and looked at it. Debating on whether or not he should call her.
<I'm not sure. I could be someone who is untrustworthy. What do you say we catch up with them, and see what they're up to, before we make ourselves known? How close do you have to be to hear what they're saying?>
-
We processed the query.
<Our Cranial Input Amplifier will allow a maximum range of approximately 150 feet, clearly.>
-
<<I told you it was going to be difficult,>> Mike retorts. <<How can you walk along without looking back? It's giving me the crawling horrors, her behind us, all proper and deadly...>>
-
Salem smiled and nodded at Temrash, "Jagill is your... host? Good choice. These things won't exactly work miracles, but they'll speed up recovery time from injuries by a bit, and will work round the clock to keep you healthier in general. You'll find yourself feeling stronger after just a few hours with these things in your bloodstream." He pulled what looked like a small glass rod from the inside of his case and waved it at Temrash. "Ready or not, I'm imaging your DNA." After a moment, he stuck it back into his case and picked up one of the small vials, which was filled with a milky white liquid. "If you'll hold out your arm, I'll inject you."
He looked at Elayne and smirked, "You sure I can't offer you anything from this pile? It's not like you're giving up anything to get it. Of course," he said, shrugging, "I have plenty more to offer. If you have something more substantial than DNA to offer me, I might be able to get you something really nice. I just need to know what you're interested in. Just so you know, I tend to deal mostly in information and technologies, but I'll take products and goods when I can as well."
-
Temrash held out his arm so Salem could stick it. He didn't think the guy would pull something devious on him, though obviously they weren't very close.
<Ok then, let's get at least 150 feet away from them.> Claxter said, and trotted along. He really wanted to know if Corliss had talked to Efaen, and what he might trick her into doing. Now that she was back with the Andalites, he could say with confidence that Terenia had no right to be in her head without permission from Prince Ossanlin. If Danielle wanted to come along, hopefully she could travel a bit at a brisk jog.
-
We fell behind for a moment, caught off guard by Claxters...pace...b ut we caught up.
<But...what mental resonances will We be scanning for?>
-
Danielle caught up, not affected by the pace. She had been all over chasing all sorts of people, naturally she needed to be fast to catch them. Typically, however, it usually involved improvising and shortcuts.
-
Claxter wasn't sure what he meant for mental resonances. <I'd just like to be able to hear them speak. Being a Human controller, Corliss will speak vocally. Terenia, though in a Yeerk body, is a nothlit and will use thought speech like Efaen.>
-
<<She won't kill us,>> Terenia says, although she hesitates slightly in her step. <<At least, I don't think she will.>> Nervously, she glances over her shoulder. Efaen still has the expression of a glorious martyr, but she does not look as though she is preparing to strike.
<<Almost there,>> she turns back around to face forward. <<Not that being in an enclosed space with her will be any better. Sorry, man, but you are simply not fast enough to avoid that tail.>>
-
<Acknowledged.>
We followed the residue until we read heat signatures 155 feet ahead. We proceeded another 10 feet. We recognized the outline as Efaen's. Then, we waited for thought-speak and acoustic resonances.
-
Mar gestures behind him slightly and states with a pleased look on his face, "...that is my connection to the greater Mass. I am...in an awkward position as of late. But it is still not something you should trifle with. My Andalite friend may have a few tricks up his sleeve as well. We only seek a clear explanation, warrior. That's all."
Mar glances at Ossanlin with a nod, muttering <Was that alright?> as quickly as he can. He winces slightly. Telepathy while charging gives him a headache.
-
Okaru nodded and turned to take a break outside the bar.
-
Terenia rounds the corner of a ship and the Skimmer comes into view.
<<Alright, time for one of us to think up a brilliant plan,>> she says, approaching the hatch. She taps into Mike's memory, finding the bit of knowledge that will tell her how to be granted entrance onto the ship.
"Open exterior hatch," she says loudly, followed by the correct code. The computer registers Mike's lilting British accent and the hatch opens. She waits for the ramp to descend, feigning patience. In reality, she is incredibly nervous; something she does not want Efaen noticing. A glance behind her shows that Efaen is waiting somewhat less patiently, her main eyes staring straight ahead and tail twitching ever so slightly.
-
Salem took Temrash's arm and turned it over, careful to avoid being cut by Jagill's blades. He took the tiny vial and pressed it against his forearm- the white liquid drained out of it quickly and into Jagill's bloodstream. Temrash should end up feeling nothing more than a slight prick.
"Here you are. You're all set. I should let you know that in rare cases, people have reactions to the nanites. If you start to feel sick, let me know, and they can be deactivated and removed. My communicator is perfectly capable of receiving Yeerk transmissions, so contact me if you need anything."
-
<<How the hell are we going to get you out of my head and Corliss back in it?>> Mike demands. <<The Andalite girl behind us is watching our every bloody move. We'll have to leave him in there, and for God's sake don't let her in the pool room. The quarters in the back are too small for her, anyway. I hate the idea of sleeping on this thing with her on board, Terenia...>>
-
<<I know, I know,>> Terenia says in frustration. She ascends the ramp, the tell-tale sound of hooves letting her know that Efaen is following closely. <<Is the communicator connected to the pool still? I can't remember if I turned it off.>>
She opens her private thought-speech to include Corliss, keeping Efaen out of the loop. <<Corliss, we're coming back on board, but don't say anything. Efaen's with us and she thinks I'm you.>>
They cross the threshold into the ship's bridge. Terenia stands there for a moment, at a loss. What now?
<Well?> Efaen's voice hits Terenia like ice chips. <Are you going to contact your leader or not?>
<<Contact Reven?>> Terenia squeaks internally to Mike. <<Me? I can't do that!>>
-
Elayne laughs. She doesn't know who Salem she thinks he is, but it's probably not the best idea to burst his bubble. If he assumes she is more powerful than he is, maybe that will help her remain safe.
And, even though she doesn't think anything Salem has to offer would be of any more use than the joke books, she can't help but ask, "What kind of information are you looking for?"
"Boy, you guys sure are marching along at a nice clip," comes Illim's voice from behind Efaen. He strides up the ramp and gives Terenia and Efaen a jaunty little wave. "Hello again. Just making sure you don't leave without me." And that this uppity Andalite isn't too much of a problem, he thinks, not that I can do much without a Dracon.
-
"Alright. I will." Temrash said. Since Jagill was recently injured on his chest, Temrash could check to see if it healed faster than normal.
<I don't suppose you can pick up provate thought speech, can you?> Claxter asked Gremyyt. Now that they were close enough to hear, he stood by in case anyone said anything. <Picking up any voices yet?> Peeking around a nearby tree, he noticed they were getting in the Skimmer. This concerned him, but he wanted more information before making himself known.
<Corliss owns that ship, and he has allied himself with Terenia. They are both Yeerks, though Terenia is a Yeerk nothlit who was born Human. I feel Terenia may still view Efaen as her host, even though Efaen has left to be with us. She is possessive that way.>
Derrel wasn't keen on going inside the ship. efaen and Corliss didn't like each other, and Terenia was in the pool in the ship. None of them were exactly inviting Illim in, as far as he could tell. He didn't say anything, though, because he was trying to be brave. If Illim was going to be brave, he'd try to be brave too.
-
There's no response from Corliss, and for a moment Mike feels a spike of fear.
<<I...I reckon it's still on,>> Mike says hesitantly, <<but I don't know how to turn the damn thing on if it isn't! He never uses it, and it...had something to do with the communications array...damnit, I wasn't paying attention!>>
He gives himself a moment to calm down. <<Terenia, you should give me control. I'll be fine talking with Reven, if we can even get in contact with him.>> In spite of his best efforts, Mike feels his mental anxiety rising again. <<Hurry up, she's waiting for us to say something!>>
-
We heard a voice, <It is Efaen...>
We relayed the communication to claxter, <She is saying: <Well? Are you going to contact your leader or not?> >
-
<Hmm. Corliss belongs to the Yeerk rebellion. I don't suppose they're trying to get Efaen to join the rebellion. If they do contact their leader, I'd like to make sure we can hear the whole conversation. Should we risk getting closer? I need to know exactly what they're planning, in case I need to relay the information to Prince Ossanlin.> Claxter said.
-
We processed this new information, <We may be able to broaden the reach of our holographic matrix to shroud us in a hologram of the immediate area.>
-
<That would be good. Go ahead and do that, and we can aproach the ship undetected. I doubt they'd use the ship to scan for holograms.> Claxter said.
-
"Reven!" Terenia exclaims jumpily, "Yes. Yes, I'll contact him. Just...hold on."
<<Oh man,>> she groans, relinquishing control to Mike, who she hopes can project a more calm exterior. Terenia can't understand why she is so nervous, except for the fact that this is her last chance. If Efaen doesn't get on board now, she'll be gone forever. And Terenia will be headed to the rebellion in a tupperware.
<<Don't let her leave,>> Terenia adds tersely.
Efaen waits, tail twitching with increasing irritation.
-
Salem looked at Elayne and shrugged, "Technology, like I mentioned. Maybe techniques and ways of doing things I might not have thought of before. Brain scans of individuals. Um..." he paused for a second, "basically anything you think I or someone else might find useful, I'll at least consider."
-
Trey peeks at the technology Salem has set in front of them, interested. On Earth, he had always been fascinated by the technology he had been denied access to due to his heritage. Some of this seemed more advanced still, and Trey's fingers itched with a sudden desire to experiment.
"What do you do with the DNA scans?" he asks after Temrash has finished his transaction.
-
Illim frowns as no one seems to acknowledge him. Maybe that's best, especially if Corliss isn't here to lend his support, he thinks.
<<Sorry, buddy,>> he tells Derrel, backing up a bit to lean against the wall, out of the way. <<But hey, maybe you'll get to meet Reven; he's supposedly in charge of the place where we're going.>> His stomach rumbles. <<A place that hopefully has great food.>>
Serid opened the Bar door and stepped inside, glancing around at the unfamiliar faces before spotting Ossanlin. He approaches carefully, noting he seems to be in conversation with a human. <<War Prince,>> he says privately, <<it is aristh Serid. I have fulfilled my obligations to the Yeerk, and I am available to speak with you further, should you wish it.>> He settles on a bar stool not too close, not too far from the Andalite.
Watching him somewhat covertly, Serid frowns, thinking on what Efaen has said about the War Prince. It is not his loyalty, in and of itself, that concerns him, but mostly his superiors' perception of him. If it becomes public knowledge that he carries out perfectly friendly, businesslike conversations with Yeerks, Serid's hopes of being reinstated as an honorable member of his race will be completely demolished. For who, other than Ossanlin, would give him a chance?
Elayne considers Salem's words, then nods in agreement with Trey. "He is probably building a clone army somewhere," she smirks, mostly kidding.
-
<<...Jasper...>>
<<Yeah?>>
<<...What if he has a cure?>>
Jasper stopped sketching. He began to be drawn a bit more into the conversation. "I uh... might be interested, but... I really don't have a whole lot to offer. Unless you want my DNA samples, all I've really got is ..." He digs through his bag, pulling out a chain he was small wooden block that was in the process of being carved into an elephant. It was mostly completed. "...this. And..." <<No, we can't give him that. Don't you even think about giving away ANY of my oatmeal.>> "...yeah, that's it."
-
Mike takes control and looks from Efaen to Illim and back.
"Right, well, um...contacting Reven," he reiterates, hurriedly bringing up the holoscreens and going through the familiar motions of hailing the rebellion encrypted frequencies.
"Yes. Um. Not to worry, Efaen. Erh. What was it you were saying, Illim?" he says distractedly, as he squints at a block of Yeerkish text.
-
Illim hesitates before answering. Would Reven see through it? Would he know who he was talking to, and that an endorsement from Terenia meant nothing compared with an endorsement from Corliss? It'd be better to have the brothers talk, to be sure. Still, how to get Corliss back into Mike's head? And would Terenia even want to leave Corliss's host?
Finally he gives a smile and straightens from the hull wall. "Nothing. Do you need any help? I could do it if you, you know, need to wrap up anything on the ship..."
Dammit, where's thought-speech when you need it? he growls internally.
-
Claxter gave us the affirmative. We commanded nanoprobes to our abdominal support, where the holoprojector was implanted...
I thought about how I still had implants. Even if we could see Pizali again, she would not recognze us...we thought about those implications.
The nanoprobes enhanced the output and range of the projector. We projected a hologram of the surroundings to hide us. We proceeded closer to the andalite...
-
<I would like to talk to Reven.> Derrel said. <See what kind of guy he's like.>
Claxter proceeded to move quietly towards the ship. Hopefully they wouldn't close the ramp. He didn't want to think of efaen being trapped on that ship with little he could do to help.
-
Salem laughed in response to Elyane's comment, "No, the problem with clone armies is that it's so hard to find a place to keep them." He looked over at Trey, still smiling, and shrugged, "Mostly I just store them in case I ever need them. You'd be surprised at how often having a cache of DNA samples can come in handy." He neglected to mention that to him, "coming in handy" usually meant selling the patterns. He knew a lot of people wouldn't be entirely comfortable with the idea of their genetic code being used by alien cultures for who-knows-what.
When Jasper showed him a carving of an animal Salem didn't recognize, he raised his eyebrows. "What is that?" he asked, leaning closer and looking curiously at the piece.
-
Efaen gives Illim the benefit of one distrusting stalk eye, but her main focus remains on who she presumes is Corliss.
<Is the act of contacting your leader problematic?> Efaen asks skeptically as Mike inspects the Yeerkish text. She takes another step towards them, the feeling of a trap weighing heavier on her shoulders.
<<Stop stuttering,>> Terenia hisses from the backseat of Mike's mind. <<You sound like a bumbling idiot; she's going to know something is up! God dammit we need Corliss.>>
She switches to private thought-speak, including only Mike and Illim. <<Illim, you need to make a diversion or something for us. I need to switch out with Corliss or we're going to blow this entire thing.>>
-
Ossanlin glances over at Serid, relaxing a bit as Okaru leaves the bar. He nods to Mar. <<Well, you did manage to talk him down which I am surely grateful for. Hopefully the peace will last. It seems odd, you sowing peace instead of dissent.>> Ossanlin smirks a bit befpre turning his eyes back on Serid.
<<Welcome back Serid...I am not engaged at the current time so if you wish to talk with me about anything in particular, please do.>>
-
Elayne raises her eyebrows. "See, it's comments like that, especially the way he says them, that make me nervous," she says to Trey loud enough for Salem to hear, too, although he might be distracted enough by Jasper that he doesn't pay much attention to her.
Illim heaves a quiet sigh. The hell am I supposed to do? Yell "fire?" he wonders in slight irritation. He seized the only idea he had.
"You remember when that Salem fellow was in here?" he asks Terenia. "Do you think he might have tampered with your ship's comm? Maybe put a tracker on it or something?" He puts on a thoughtful expression. "I've got a bit of computer experience. I could check the front comm for you if you want to check the back. I mean, not to, you know, order you around your own ship or anything," he raises his hands with a disarming smile. Come on, just take the opportunity... he wills her.
Serid nods and closes the distance between them, sitting on a nearby stool. <<Thank you, sir. I have two concerns I wish to address. Firstly, I am interested in formally rejoining the military, but I am concerned that my previous... assignment may prove problematic. Secondly, I am... intrigued, shall we say, but the thought of regaining my old body, even though the process may be arduous, if not impossible.>>
-
<<Yes well...I can see past notlitism but I'm certain you understand that many of our species cannot. I'm certain you are in possession of some valuable information regarding Yeerk activities on Earth and I am interested in hearing that some time.>> Ossanlin takes a deep breath before continuing. <<I would be happy to seek approval in reinstating you, but it would be a difficult process. Even if I manage to get a reinstatement approved...even if you served on the Tyrennian with me, there is only so much that I can control. You must understand that you would be treated...different ly. Even though, according to your explanation, your nothlitism was the result of an unfortunate situation that itself was not your doing, other members of our species, even those under my command, would see you as a lesser species, or as a being to be pitied or reviled. Of course you needn't fear any radical actions from my crew, but you would still be able to detect their attitudes.>>
Ossanlin orders another drink to replace the one he had kicked at Okaru's feet and the BT gives him a bit of a blank stare before fetching him another. <<As for the...recovery...of your original form, I am not certain it is entirely possible. Even if it is, it would take a very long time, longer if you have a wide variety of morphs stored. I would, in theory, need to sort through all of the Deoxyribonucleic patterns you have stored...it might be possible that your own nucleotides would have identifying markers that would make the recovery quicker, but I have never tried anything like this before. I do not even know if my theories, put into practice, would even work. I imagine it's something like having a large number of individual puzzle pieces that all look incredibly similar and have the same four colors on them, and then trying to find the correct ones and then put them back together without mixing in any of the others. It's a daunting task, but I truly have nothing other than assumptions and logical conclusions to base these thoughts from.>>
-
<<I'm trying, here!>> Mike yelps, suddenly afraid that Efaen will storm out on him. He taps the hatch controls and the doorway hisses shut, retracting the ramp.
In spite of his determination he can feel his heart hammering in his throat, and he seizes on the idea of Corliss taking control of the situation.
"Yeah!" he replies, a little too loudly, plastering a grin on his face. "Yeah, Illim, that's a good idea. Sorry, Efaen, I need to check and make sure we aren't being tagged before making contact with an encrypted rebellion frequency. You understand, I'm sure. Illim, it's all yours."
He powers his feet toward the back of the cabin, through the door to the pool room and with a slam of his hand on the door panel it hisses shut behind him.
Mike exhales in relief, wiping sweat from his brow while he leans back against the closed doorway.
"Right," he breathes. "Now we can do this thing the right way."
Switching to internal thought-speech, he adds, <<But Terenia, will you be all right in here? I just don't like the idea of...you know...I mean I'm sure we won't let anything happen to you...this is your future we're talking about here, too. Look, I'll have Corliss turn the damn shipboard pool comm device back on, so you can at least hear what we're saying. All right?>>
-
<<Yeah, thanks,>> Terenia says. The idea of returning to the pool terrifies her, but she can't see another way of making this work. <<Corliss will look out for me. He'll...he'll make this work. C'mon, we have to hurry.>>
She takes control then, propelling him to the pool. A glance tells her that Corliss is still there, alone and blind. She takes a deep breath, leans over the edge, tilts Mike's head, and begins to detach.
Several moments later Terenia falls into the pool with a faint splash.
Efaen scarcely has time to react before the hatch closes and Mike is gone, running into the back room. She fixes her glare on Illim, the only person who remains.
<This had better not be a trap, Yeerk,> she threatens, watching him closely.
-
Mike gives himself a few moments to steady himself before shaking his head.
"I swear, you blokes are going to give me serious ear damage one of these days," he whispers, pounding the side of his head with the flat of his palm. Resigned, he dunks the side of his head into the pool.
Corliss notices Terenia as she slips under the pool surface.
<<Terenia?>> he asks, curious. <<What...?>>
He hesitates, turning to her instead of to Mike's ear.
Mike winces. "Me f*cking neck, mate, hurry up!" he hisses.
-
Salem was momentarily lost in looking at Jasper's carving. It didn't look completely finished yet, but the creature... was that based on something real? Its long, thick legs reminded it of a Vam-Chi, but the face...
Elayne's comment brought him back to the table. He smirked at her. "What is it you'd expect me to do with your genetic code? Having multiple instances of a species' DNA is usually most helpful for medical purposes. Or... almost-medical purposes. Having the first copy of a species' DNA is usually far more worthwhile." He looked her up and down, "You did say you were human, right?"
-
<<Just go, Corliss,>> Terenia says, spreading herself out once she hits the water. <<You'll be able to figure it out from Mike's memories. We don't have much time. Hurry!>>
-
Corliss doesn't wait to respond, rushing instead into Mike's head.
It takes him a few moments to reconnect, and he quickly begins processing everything that's happened in the last few hours, trying to focus the barrage of information on the last minutes.
"Oh dear," he murmurs, standing up and wiping Mike's ear with the back of his hand. He steps back out into the main cabin, smiling at Efaen and Illim.
"Nothing to report," he says cheerfully, walking up next to Illim and swiping one of the holoscreens in front of him. "Yes, we're all clear to continue the transmission." Corliss gives Illim a sideways glance.
-
Efaen has not moved since stepping nearer to Illim, and she does not do so now, other than to turn one fourth of her gaze to Corliss. Her expression is not one of patience.
<I expect that there will be no further delays, Yeerk?> she asks mildly. It is impossible to ignore the way she twists the word 'yeerk' into a curse.
Terenia lets out a mental sigh of relief when Corliss disappears from the pool. It is out of her hands now, and all she can do is wait. She's glad to put the responsibility of this onto someone else.
<Well,> Terenia says in her own open thought-speech after she hears Efaen. Thankfully, she finds it much easier to act like herself than like Corliss. All she has to do is say what she would have said if it had been Corliss bringing Efaen back instead of herself. <Sounds like you just can't stay away from me, can you, Efaen.>
<<Sorry,>> she adds quickly in private thought-speak to Mike and Corliss. <<Gotta make it sound authentic. I'll be nice...ish.>>
Efaen's expression changes to one of consternation at the sound of Terenia. She does not respond to the person she once shared a head with, but her tail twitches dangerously.
<Carry on,> she snaps at Corliss and Illim.
Trey nods, inspecting the knives with interest. Not that he has much use for them, but he is a teenage boy, and the alien instruments intrigue him. He says nothing in response to Salem, waiting for him to initiate conversation again, if at all.
-
<Great. They closed the hatch.> Claxter said in irritation. Although with the hatch closed he didn't have to be so quiet. <If Efaen needs my help now, I won't be able to get to her quickly. Gremyyt, please try to gain as much information as possible. If Efaen is put in danger, we'll have to try to get inside somehow.> He glanced at Gremyyt's metallic tail, and the weapon grafted to his arm. Would he be able to force his way through the hatch? Was his weapon functional at all yet?
<Why did they close the hatch? Illim, tell them to reopen the hatch. I don't like this. These guys are going to pull something with that Andalite girl, and I don't want to be here when it happens.> The hatch closing was triggering his flight or fight response, and there wasn't anywhere to 'fly' to.
-
When Terenia and Mike had left the room, Illim had stepped forward to piddle with the computer, but he had only just begun to inspect any possible breaches when Mike had returned, this time with Corliss in tow... at least so he hoped. "Trap?" he echoes Efaen with an easygoing smile. "No, see, we're avoiding the trap by checking into this. I don't particularly want us being traced by some kind of bounty hunter con man, do you?"
He steps back to give Corliss full control of the computer, leaning against the hull wall again with a mask of calm indifference. <<I don't think that's their plan... they seem like upstanding folks so far. At least Corliss is. I've trusted him, at least ever since he released Serid,>> he tells Derrel. <<If they're gonna be contacting Reven, we can't have passerbys listen in, anyway.>> He hesitates, reading his host's thoughts, but asking anyway, <<Is that okay? It won't be for long, hopefully.>>
"Perfectly," Elayne responds to Salem with a laugh. He is making her feel uneasy, but it isn't something she minds, for some reason. With a glance at Mar she thinks, Maybe I just like creepy guys. Still, her mothering instincts make her watch Trey nervously.
-
<Well yeah, they do seem better than Efaen. Still, I have a string sense of self preservation. Maybe I should work on fixing that. Ok, let's hope this works out fine. Maybe Let Corliss get between us and Efaen. How fast can they move those tails, anyway?> Derrel said, getting over his initial panic.
-
At his demands, we started to think of some way to get information without a direct intrusion.
Then we noticed Claxter looking at our SION claws and tail. Probably vying for a direct intrusion.
<If the hull alloy is of a sufficient sparseness, we may be able to weld, blast, pull, or lacerate our way inside.>
Afer a moment of processing, <We would...prefer if you called us Theta-Pi...and we don't feel like explaining why. Just...please.>
-
<<It's best if I don't answer that question,>> Illim tells Derrel.
He is starting to get irritated with his host for always being so concerned about danger; it's certainly a stark contrast from Serid, a trained soldier. Still, he can't blame the guy. He had always been stuck in bad positions, always fearing for his health and safety, and now here he was about to enter a war.
<<No. You hang on to that sense of self-preservation, alright? Let's get behind the armed guy; good call,>> he says to him, his tone friendly. He straightens from the wall and, attempting to look as casual as possible, starts to wander past Efaen.
-
Claxter couldn't help feeling concerned for Gremyyt. Was the alvie trying to subvert him again? Was he so indoctrinated that he actually thought he was the machine instead of an andalite? He would talk to Prince Ossanlin about it. <Alright...Theta Pi.>
<Ok.> Derrel said. He took that to mean the tail was fast. Illim told him to hold onto the self preservation, but hopefully he'd also learn to depend on others as well.
-
Corliss bites his lip as he peers at the screens. Of course it was impossible to reply to Terenia, but he trusted that she knew what she was doing.
Keep up the act, he thinks, as he stands back and waits for the transmission to go through. That's smart. Here's hoping she doesn't suspect anything...
<<Corliss?>> Mike's voice interrupts his thoughts.
<<Yes?>>
<<Let's not do this again, all right?>>
Corliss smirks at the screens. <<You've got yourself a deal, mate.>>
A bored-looking man with dark skin and short-cropped hair appears on the floating translucent screen, resting his head on his black-sleeved arm.
When he realizes who is sending the hail he sits back and makes a brave attempt to look alert.
He clears his throat. "Corliss," says the man in a deep baritone. "Hey, man, what's going on?"
Corliss relaxes his stance a bit, speaking in a big exhale. "You would not believe, Temeth. Is our glorious leader willing and available to speak to me, for what I suspect is the fiftieth time today?"
Temeth frowns, glancing at something off-screen. "Yeah, I'll see if I can patch you through, but there are no guarantees."
"Are there ever?" Corliss replies, as Temeth's face cuts out and a buzzing screen of Yeerkish text returns. He glances at Efaen.
"He's a busy man, I'm sure you realize," says Corliss with a slant of his mouth. "Thank you for your patience."
<<Oh, please. You can't seriously be sucking up to that son of a-->>
<<Courtesy never hurt anyone, you know. Besides, I sort of like feeding politeness back to her holier-than-thou act.>>
-
We acknowledged Claxter's compliance.
<Beginning...now.>, We stated.
Walking over to the ship, we attempted to speed up the work of the nanoprobes on our SION implant. In the mean-time, we raised our tail.
We scanned the hull alloy of the ship. It was sparse enough to allow a tail-blade. We brought our's down on the ship's hull with 5 times the force of a nominal andalite tail. It made a medium dent, with an audible impact.
We walked back over to Claxter, <It might be preferable to wait for our SION implant to regenerate and we can go in quieter than to force our way in.>
-
<Alright. Let us remain silent and listen to their conversation. The only way they could subdue Efaen quickly is with a dracon on stun. As long as we don't hear that, she should be fine. If anyone fires a dracon shot, we're busting in weapons blazing.> Claxter said.
-
Danielle had been a quiet companion but now said, "Ha. What I do best."
-
Claxter smiled an Andalite smile a bit. Danielle was making a joke, and even though this situation could get serious, her joke diffused a little of his nervousness.
-
Salem held up one of his small vials and shook it, smirking at Elayne. "You sure I can't offer you better health for practically nothing at all, then?"
At that moment, the communicator in his pocket trilled. He took it out and spoke into it, "Hey, Al, what's up?"
"Looks like your pals over in the Skimmer are transmitting," Al said, in a bored and slightly amused tone. "Which is good timing, because your little buddies are just about ready to go."
"Good. Just record the transmission. I'll be there in a bit."
Al yawned audibly, "Already on it."
Salem turned back to the table and glanced around at Jasper, Trey and Elayne. He smiled and said, "I've got business to take care of. Nobody's interested in something here?"
-
Temrash made no reaction when Salem got up. Business probably meant Corliss had called Reven, which was faster than Temrash had hoped. He definitely couldn't be seen walking with Salem, so he just drank the drink he ordered, and relaxed.
-
Diteca slipped, unseen, out the door to where Okaru was perched on the roof staring at the sky.
He nimbly kicked off the ground and soared to the roof.
''What is your purpose in fighting the Andalite? I wonder why a human would want to fight something so much more powerful...'' He called, and a nonstartled Okaru cast his eyes back at him.
''I was payed...'' He stated simply.
''Well...what if someone were to help you? Would they get part of the reward?'' He replied.
Okaru laughed a goodhearted laugh, ''Why not!''
Immediately after hearing this Diteca slammed a fist into the roof, causing a massive booming to sound.
He would hope that he may startle him into coming out...
-
"Tempting, but no thanks," Elayne tells Salem, pausing to eavesdrop on his conversation with Al as well as she can and to wonders why Salem showed so much interest in Jasper's elephant carving. She has been assuming that Salem is from a perhaps radically different version of Earth from her own, but it crosses her mind for the first time that perhaps she is wrong about his origins in the first place.
Serid lowers his eyes as Ossanlin speaks about how he will most likely be perceived by his own people as a lesser being. It fills him with the same rage, long since dulled, that he has felt ever since permanently becoming a human. Do they not realize I took the most honorable path available to me? Would they have rather I become a second Alloran? The familiar thoughts roil in his stomach.
Finally he speaks, exerting effort to maintain a calm tone. <<Despite the potential difficulties, I am interested in pursuing de-nothlitization. If you have... tasks, perhaps outside of the usual assignments, that you would like me to complete in return for your significant efforts, I would be honored to comply. My hope, however potentially foolish, is that I could be reinstated into the military more easily if I regain my former body.>>
He pauses and then adds, <<War Prince, I would be... grateful if you would not mention your knowledge of my existence to anyone. I am presumed dead, killed in duty; such a fate may be perceived as more honorable than what has truly become of me, especially to my family.>>
-
We looked at the human and ****ed our head slightly, <What you do best? You a mechanic, are you not?>
We waited, and listened carefully for the voices from within.
-
<If he is not willing to agree with my conditions,> Efaen says stiffly, <or even to spare a moment to hear them, then I am perfectly capable of returning to Ossanlin.> Efaen does not respond to Corliss' attempt at being cordial. She merely fixes him with a steely stalk eye, her main eyes fixed on the viewscreen, awaiting Reven's appearance.
<Come on, Efaen,> Terenia says from the pool with a slightly over-zealous laugh. <You think they'll let you join the rebellion without me to keep you from going on a rampage? You know better than that. Reven's already said his piece.>
<Then they will have to do without the added advantage of an Andalite soldier,> Efaen says calmly to Terenia.
<Right,> Terenia says sarcastically, <because you'll be so much happier running around on the homeworld, or on some backwater assignment.>
Efaen does not respond to Terenia directly, instead she glances at Corliss with her main eyes briefly. <There are times when I wish that Terenia did not possess the ability to utilize thought-speech,> she says mildly.
-
Danielle replied, "I work at tactical now. I used to be a bounty hunter. Thats what brought me to the bar. I was searching for a criminal."
-
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Efaen," Corliss says testily, folding his arms and watching the screens. It was taking an awfully long time.
When Reven's pale and freckled face shows up on the screen, he looks haggard and disheveled, like he's just woken up.
"Yes, Corliss," says the rebel officer with a yawn. "What is it?"
Corliss glances at Efaen, then at Illim, before beginning.
"It's the Andalite girl, Efaen, Rev," he replies to his brother. "She's free of Terenia for the moment, and she'd like the chance to address you. See...she's interested in joining up..." He hesitates. "...voluntarily, but without Terenia or anyone else within her."
Reven turns his tired but intent gaze on Efaen. "Is that so, Andalite?"
-
Efaen's main eyes narrow momentarily at Corliss, but her expression shifts when Reven appears on screen. She steps towards the display and addresses the Yeerk.
<Yes, that is so,> she says, trying to maintain some semblance of politeness, despite what she is speaking to. <This Ye- Corliss spoke with me and I have come to the conclusion that, at present, my services are best placed with your...rebellion. Prince Ossanlin cannot ensure that I am not sent back to the Homeworld, and that is unacceptable. I will do anything within my power to topple the Empire. Even if it requires a...less honorable...approac h.>
<<Oh brother,>> Terenia says privately to Corliss and Illim. <<You'd think she was committing suicide.>>
-
Reven watches Efaen as she gives her little rehearsed speech.
"'Less honorable'?" he echoes, smiling, not unkindly. "And why would you wish to besmirch your honor by joining us?"
He sits back, smile fading. "We've discussed this before, Efaen. You know perfectly well what would be required of you if you were to be accepted into our ranks. You certainly wouldn't be forced to take on a relationship with a Yeerk, Terenia or otherwise, but you would be expected to work with us civilly and to aid, not hinder, the war effort. Let me be absolutely clear with you: I will not risk letting someone who is dangerous to my people and this operation live within our midst."
-
Salem looked around the table and shrugged. "I'll be around, if any of you decide you'd like something," he said as he re-packed his items into the case. He shut the case and stuck it back under his chair, then turned and walked out the door and towards his ship.
-
<I am not a barbarian,> Efaen says, sounding a little miffed. <I will not lead a slaughter against those who are under your protection. I understand that conquering the Empire will require a certain amount of sacrifice and, as a result, I am prepared to separate myself from my people for that cause. However, I do have certain conditions. As Corliss already relayed, I will not accept any of your kind. I also do not wish to be subjected to memory dumps. My memories have been tampered with enough. Additionally, I want the ability to exercise my training.>
<<Efaen is useless if she's not my host,>> Terenia snaps at Corliss privately. <<You want her running around the base, thinking that you are all expendable?>>
-
Diteca then shrugged seeing as the Andalite had not come out.
''Well when you decide to do something, and you need help, just whistle.'' He stated to Okaru and jumped nimbly down in front of the bar and walked back in.
((Who is open for a convo?))
-
Ossanlin nods and takes his new drink from the BT, setting it on the floor. <<I hope you understand that I am merely trying to prepare you for the most-likely reception for you to receive. As I said, I will do everything within my power to keep at least my own soldiers in line, but I cannot control their thoughts, nor would I wish to...such are the actions of the Empire, quite literally. I understand your sacrifice, but you must understand that the only available records of your Earth exploits are your own words.>>
Ossanlin watches as Salem leaves the room and some new ideas start percolating as he turns his main eyes back to Serid. <<That human is a strange one...I do not understand his origins, but he claims to have spent many years with our kind. He has access to technology I believe that is beyond even our own. He seems to be overtly interested in nucleotide patterns...he may have a device that would be able to pinpoint and isolate your own primary Andalite nucleotides. It would make the process much easier and much quicker...but he seems to be a merchant above all else...not to mention he nearly ended my life not long ago. My friend here, Mar...he may be able to help in some manner as well.>>
-
<<I know!>> Corliss hisses impatiently, although Terenia can't hear him, setting his teeth on edge as he watches the conversation.
<<You know what?>> Mike responds, confused.
<<Nothing, shh, I'm trying to hear!>>
<<God, you're a mystery sometimes, Cor,>> Mike murmurs.
"What manner of training do you require?" Reven asks politely. "And if I am to trust that you will behave respectfully, and cooperatively, as one of our people, I must also be sure that you will follow orders if you are given orders. It sounds to me like you'd like to live with us, spy on us, and do as you please. That is unacceptable, Efaen."
-
Jasper - or Sapttus, rather - stood up abruptly from the table. "Wait!" He shouted at Salem.
<<What are you doing, dude?>>
<<I need him! He.. He has to have a cure! He just has to!>>
<<That would be great. You'd finally be free.>>
<<I wouldn't... well, I wouldn't need it anymore...>>
...they stood awkwardly, not sure how to proceed. Looking back at the table, and shifting hesitantly a couple of times, Jasper then quickly stuffed all of his things back into his laptop bag, popped on his sunglasses -<<I hate these glasses!>> - and hurried out the door. "I uh... might have something for you...."
-
Efaen stiffens at the implication that she is spying on the Empire.
<Prince Ossanlin does not know that I am here. None of the Andalites know that I am here. I came on my own accord, not to carry out an espionage mission. I desire only to assist in the toppling of the Empire. I will not pretend to be your friend, Yeerk. I am not here to make amends. I am here to do what is necessary. If that requires following...your... orders, then so be it. If our purposes are truly the same, then that will not be a problem. However, I assure you that if your orders are ever in the interest of the Empire, I will not follow."
-
Reven looks at Illim and Corliss. "She speaks the truth?"
Corliss glances at Illim as well, before addressing his brother. "We...think so, Rev. She knows she won't have access to Ossanlin or anyone else within the Andalite military, at least not easily, and that she'll have to undergo the usual quarantine."
Reven sighs, nodding and pinching his nose in irritation. He looks back at Efaen.
"Twice in the last two days I've been contacted with the conflicting requests of both you and your Yeerk-human friend Terenia. I've been convinced that you should be allowed to stay with us, then persuaded that you are a danger. Why should I believe your goals are truly the same as our own, and that you will do as you say you will?"
-
<Regardless of what others have said about me,> Efaen says slowly, <none can deny that my end goal has always been the elimination of the Empire. Some people here are wary of my true intentions because they know that I have no love for the Yeerk species. However, I am no threat to you for the simple reason that you are no threat to me. So long as you are not seeking to subvert and control me, I see no reason to go against the rebellions wishes. I will not lie to you, Yeerk. Should the Empire topple you may become a perceived threat. But now? With the Yeerk Empire breathing down our necks and our own Andalite soldiers bordering on treason? Someone needs to step forward and do what is necessary. I will be that person.>
She hesitates, not wanting to give up her own leverage, yet sensing that Reven will need more than an Andalite's word. <On my honor, I will not harm those allied with you so long as they oppose the Empire. Should I...should I betray you, and only should I betray you, you have full permission to assign one of your kind to me. Is that insurance enough, Yeerk?>
-
Reven considers for a long moment.
Corliss throws his hands up. "All I know, mate, is the girl wants her there...and while she may be a total nutter, I really don't reckon Efaen would actually hurt anyone. I wouldn't let her go a moment's notice without observation, at first, but there you have it." He sighs wearily. "And that's my final answer."
Reven looks at Illim, who is himself a newcomer to the rebellion, but ultimately turns his attention to Efaen again.
"I trust my brother's word more than your own, Andalite," he says testily. "But if you agree to our terms, and we agree to hold yours, then you may join us. Under heavy observation which you will not see, hear, or otherwise notice, until such a time as we deem you are true to your word. Is this understood?"
-
<I understand,> Efaen says. She lowers her tail half an inch. A true sign of respect would have been to lower it fully, but for her it is a great accomplishment. <I will adhere to your wishes...Reven.>
<<Did it work?>> Terenia whispers to Corliss, only able to hear Efaen's snippets of conversation. <<Will she let me back in her blasted head? What's going on? Gah, I hate being deaf!>>
-
"I don't know if it worked," Corliss says, scowling at the floor. He pauses and glances up at Reven, abashed.
Reven's attention, however, is still on the Andalite girl.
"Very well," says the rebel leader. "I shall expect you to return with Terenia, Michael and Corliss, and shortly. We will prepare for your arrival and ensure there are double the liquid grass supplies. And Efaen...I do hope you find we are what you expect us to be."
The transmission cuts out abruptly.
-
Efaen seems to deflate. Her tail lowers a good foot or two and her stalk eyes droop. It seems as though the conversation with Reven has sapped all of her energy. She casts a resentful glance in Corliss' direction.
<I do hope that you feel vindicated, Yeerk, in swaying me to your cause. I will not break my word to your leader, but know that I am doing this for my people, not for yours.>
-
"Well, at least recognize that you're doing this for your own people, as well as those we fight to free," Corliss says flatly, glancing at Illim and shrugging. "Some people only see what they want to see, I suppose."
-
<My people fight for the freedom of the galaxy,> Efaen says simply. <I must rendevouz with Prince Ossanlin and alert him to the change of plans.> She glances towards the door that leads to the pool room. <I am aware of the fact that this means Terenia and I will be entering the rebellion together. Please do not mistake that fact for us being allies. Our time together is through.>
<No!> Terenia cries in open thought-speech, <You dapsen Andalite, don't leave. I'm not going to the rebellion in a flipping tupperware! Corliss!>
-
"Wait a minute, Efaen," Corliss says, raising his hands in an attempt to pacify her. "Can't you at least entertain the idea of...of eventually rejoining with her? No one's forcing you. It's just that you've been allies for so long, and I reckon you still need each other, sad as it sounds."
-
Efaen laughs. It is not a pleasant sound.
<Terenia needs me, I will not deny that,> she says coldly. <but her presence in my life is unnecessary at best. You hear her taunting me, begging me for my body. She has succumbed to the darkest instincts of her form and I will not allow her to try and twist my thoughts. Perhaps it would do the human good to be helpless for some time.>
In the pool, Terenia's hope is slowly twisting into seething rage. <Yeah, how long do you think you'll last without me?> she demands. <How long before Reven decides you're too dangerous to keep around?>
<I have no intentions of harming anyone,> Efaen says calmly. <I am not the one who has no control over her emotions.>
-
<We didn't get to talk.> Derrel said, obviously disappointed that Reven cut the feed so suddenly. He wanted to talk to Reven in the hopes that he'd get confirmation on his possible future. Judging from what he told Efaen, Derrel would likely go under observation too. He wouldn't mind being watched as long as he wasn't antagonized. Obviously Terenia wanted back in Efaen's head bad, but not enough to actually try to make amends with her. <Seems like Terenia needs to learn humility if she's ever going to get back with Efaen.>
Claxter heard Terenia shouting, but had no context for the statement. He waited for Gremyyt to tell him what was going on.
-
We listened to Terena and Efaen, <There does not seem to...be anything threatening occurring within the ship.>
-
Corliss sighs, looking up at the cabin ceiling.
"Terenia, you heard what she said," he says tiredly. "I can't do much else about it. If you'd like, you can borrow Mike again for the duration of the trip?"
He looks over at Illim. "And since we're all here, I reckon it means we can actually depart. If there are no objections?"
-
<No,> Terenia says, panic and fury overtaking her. <No, no no. I'm not going to the rebellion like this. I can't. I won't. I...>
<It is possible that Terenia is suffering a mental breakdown,> Efaen observes, a smirk on her face. She is clearly enjoying her former Yeerk's weakness. Terenia's plan has entirely backfired. Not only does she not have Efaen as a host, but Efaen is going to be there on the base. It is unacceptable.
<Shut up, Efaen! Just...just shut up. Corliss, please. I can't do this. Not like this. Not...damn it all.> She sounds as though she is on the verge of tears, although Yeerks, of course, do not cry. <Get Ossanlin.>
-
Claxter is not certain something wasn't wrong, even though Gremyyt said there didn't seem to be anything threatening going on. He was supposed to be relaying the conversation to Claxter, though Claxter didn't want to provoke him. He picked up his communicator and tried to call efaen.
<Efaen. This is Claxter. Why have you gone with Corliss into the Skimmer? They cannot be trusted. Can you exit the ship and talk to me? I'm outside.>
-
Corliss hesitates. "You mean, you want to take him up on his offer?" he asks skeptically. "Terenia, you just insisted Efaen join us, and she's agreed. I assumed you knew this would always be a risk."
He narrows his gaze at Efaen. "Do you really enjoy the suffering of others? Especially someone you once called your friend?" Irritably, he reaches over and taps the holoscreen, searching for Ossanlin's communications device.
It takes a few moments, in which Corliss fumes internally.
<<I can't bloody believe her,>> he scowls. <<How can she be this cruel?>>
<<It's like you said, mate,>> Mike says reluctantly. <<You can't force her to let Terenia back in. It was always a risk.>>
<<Yeah, but that doesn't change the fact that Efaen's a self-serving, hypocritical fool...>>
Angrily he taps the icon, sending an urgent hail to the signal that appears to be coming from Ossanlin's Andalite link.
-
<I know what I said, but I didn't want her joining the rebellion without me,> Terenia snaps. <The only reason I insisted on anything was so that I could get my damned host back.>
Efaen's brow rises. <Is this true, Corliss? Were your attempts to illicit my help merely due to the whims of this human child?>
<Oh shut up, Efaen, don't bother. Nothing we told you was a lie, you can still act holier than thou about this. But I need a body and I'm not going to spend my first months with the rebellion swimming in blind circles. I'd rather go back to the Blade Ship.>
Efaen is about to respond, but her comm goes off. Pulling the device from her holster she recognizes it as the one Claxter gave her, not the Imperial issue device. With a flash of irritation she compresses the button.
<I have various duties to attend to on board this ship, Claxter. Why are you following me? Did Prince Ossanlin assign you to be my keeper?> she wonders if the Andalite Prince trusts her less than she imagined. <If you wish to speak I will disembark shortly.> She releases the button and glances at Corliss. <I should at the very least resolve my affairs with Prince Ossanlin before we depart. I presume that he will be encouraging of my decision, given his...alliances.>
-
Corliss waits until Efaen pauses in her conversation with Claxter.
"Efaen, Terenia's right. She may have hoped you would accept her back, but our offer still stands true," he insists. "You may still accept it if you wish."
<<When did yo become such a bloody good liar?>> Mike wonders.
-
Efaen considers Corliss for a moment.
<Understood. I will return to the rebellion base with you, and I will keep my word with your leader, unless my Prince tells me otherwise. Regardless of Terenia's selfish intentions, I am...hopeful...that I can be more successful in undermining the Empire with this arrangement.>
<I hope they lock you in a cage,> Terenia spits. <I hope they decide that you're too dangerous and keep you trapped underground for the rest of your life.>
Efaen gives Corliss an exasperated look. <It would, of course, be a more pleasant experience if I did not have to endure Terenia's empty insults and threats.>
-
Claxter is a little hurt by Efaen's words. <I'm not doing this on anyone's orders. I'm doing this because I care about you. I'm worried that they'll try to take you away to once again be surrounded by people you don't like without anyone around that you do like. I mean...you do like me, don't you Efaen?> He remembered when efaen took Terenia back just to protect him, and that she used to care for him. He wondered if he had said or done anything to make her not care for him anymore. <I just want to protect you. I care deeply for you, even though we haven't known each other long.>
<I can hear from out here with her yelling that Terenia still considers you just her host, and any attempt to get you to come with them is an attempt to get her back into your head. It's not as if Corliss, Terenia, or Mike actually consider you a person. You're just a host to them.>
-
<Oh yaolin,> Efaen mutters. She compresses the com link, even though it really isn't necessary. If he is close enough to hear Terenia's thought speak, he is close enough to hear hers. <Claxter, we will discuss these matters in private. I will be there in a moment.> She puts the link away and gives Corliss a pointed look. <It appears that I need to disembark for the time being.>
-
Corliss nods. "All right, Efaen. Contact us when you're ready to leave, and please...try to hurry. The sooner we're off this blasted rock, the better."
Is it even fathomable that I'm beginning to feel even a tiny iota of sympathy for this creature? he marvels.
<<Penny for your thoughts, mate.>>
He sighs aloud. <<It's nothing. Nothing, let's just get to work preparing to get out of here.>>
"Terenia," he says, tapping into the pool communications system at the main controls. "Do you want to have a bit of a personal chat with Mike, or not? It's your choice, I know you're thrilled about staying in the pool."
-
Efaen nods and waits for the hatch to open. Once it does, she descends the ramp, coming to a halt at the bottom and scanning the area for Claxter.
<No,> Terenia says, surprised at how quickly she refuses the offer. As much as she enjoys having eyes and ears and actual limbs...something about being inside of Mike's head had seemed strangely...wrong. More wrong than being in Efaen. She hadn't really had the opportunity to dwell on it in the moment, determined as she was to persuade Efaen, but now that she is free of his memories she is strangely relieved. <Mike needs a break,> she says instead.
-
Claxter walks out from the hologram so Efaen can see him, then waited for her to speak. Last time he just started talking abruptly, she seemed to close herself off from him. This time he'd just let her speak.
-
Salem turned to Jasper with a smile. They were still not far from the door of the bar.
"Hey. If you're looking to trade something, I assume my little trinkets weren't interesting?" He shrugged- he wasn't terribly concerned with gathering DNA. Mostly he used it as a gateway to open greater trades. It looked like that might be what'd happened here.
"What is it you have for me? And while we're at it... are you looking for anything in particular, or did you just want to see more of my stock?"
-
<Claxter,> Efaen acknowledges, stepping over to him. When she gets near enough she holds out the communication device, offering it back to him.
-
While Ossanlin waits for Serid's response, his comm goes off and he raises his eyebrows. <<Excuse me a moment Serid.>> He pulls the device from his utility harness and activates it. <<Yes Corliss?>>
-
<You honestly aren't going to go with them, are you? Without even giving Prince Ossanlin so much as one chance?> Claxter asked without taking the communicator. <You act like you hate Yeerks, yet you apparently trust them more than your own people. After five years you finally got away from them, but now you're going back? Why?>
-
Efaen tilts her head to the side, listening to Claxter's questions. When he does not accept the communicator she sighs and lowers her hand.
<Warrior Claxter, I fully trust that Prince Ossanlin wishes to do all he can to assist me. What can I expect to come from a Yeerk sympathizer though? If his alliances are known in the Electorate, even if they approve on him, they will watch him closer than any other Princes. As soon as the Electorate knows that I am not dead, that I am alive and was imprisoned within the Empire, they will overrule anything Prince Ossanlin can say and send me back to the Homeworld.>
She straightens up, giving Claxter a piercing stare. <We are in a war, and I intend to be as useful as possible. That means that certain risks become necessary.> Her tone softens slightly, <I know that you care for me, Claxter, but we are at a pivital moment in this war. There is no time for petty emotions.>
-
Corliss sighs. "You're right, you're right...we'll give him a break. I..."
The holoscreen beeps rapidly and he turns to it.
"Oh, yes, hello Ossanlin," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Listen, there have been some developments...um. Efaen is joining the rebellion, she's gone to speak to you about her rationale, but the decision's already been made." He pauses, letting that sink in.
Silently, he wishes he could tell Ossanlin that Terenia has decided to accept his offer, but even now he felt she wasn't sure.
-
<I really really don't want to let you go off somewhere alone, given the off chance that Prince Ossanlin actually approves of this. I want to help you, but I'm not sure how I can if you go there and Terenia finds some way to get back in your head. You know she will. If she doesn't convince you, she'll find someone to convince.>
-
<Let me?> Efaen's brows shoot up at the implied sexism. <Claxter, I believe you have misinterpreted your role here. You are a warrior. I am a warrior. We both are fighting for the same goal and if our paths diverge then so be it. You are not responsible for my decisions. I am no less competent than you are, despite my smaller blade.>
<As for Terenia, she has no place inside my head. If the rebellion sees it fit to force her to infest me, at least then we will know that they are truly a farce.>
Terenia listens, still fuming over Efaen's flat out refusal to become a host again. After everything I've done for her, too, she thinks bitterly.
-
Claxter thought about protesting, but thought better of it. If she had been a male, would he not have treated her as an equal? She was more Warrior than he was. Far braver, for one thing.
<Of course you are not less competent. Perhaps I have not treated you with enough respect.. he said, and reached for the communicator. <Hopefully everything will work out. Good luck.>
-
Handing the communicator to Claxter she offers him a small smile. Perhaps the Warrior is not entirely hopeless.
<I do thank you, Claxter,> she says. <You were with me in my first moments of freedom, and I am grateful that you did not judge me unfairly, despite my dishonorable arrival here. You will find your place in this war, of that I am sure.>
-
<Prince Ossanlin is inside the building, in case you were not aware.> He said, and turned to leave. He had been looking forward to working with Efaen, but now it seems they would be separated. Working at different ends of the war, though towards the same goal.
Temrash finished his drink, and got up. "Well, I guess I'll leave. Good day to you." He said, and piad the bartender then left out the door that Salem didn't go through. He walked off towards his ship, which he would move after getting there and contact Salem.
-
Danielle watches from where she was before, in case something went wrong and she needed the element of surprise. She did not know these people after all, and anyone could be the enemy. Better to be safe than sorry, in her experience.
-
We watched Claxter and Efaen interact, but soon became aware of our...boredom? Is this what boredom feels like?
<Claxter, should we deactivate the hologram now?>, we asked.
-
<Yes, go ahead.> Claxter said. <I'm going to go to the bar, if either of you want to follow.>
-
Ossanlin listens to Corliss before chuckling to himself. <'The decision has been made...' Regarding my Warrior, a soldier within my charge, without my involvement or approval... It is to laugh. I suppose I must then file Efaen as rogue. It will not sit well with the Electorate that she was freed from Yeerk control only to immediately abandon her duties to the Andalites to join the rebellion, she will be known as a Yeerk sympathizer, but there's not much I can do about it if that is what she truly desires. She will most-likely be labeled a traitor as well. I've kept your secrets regarding Ertoran, but Efaen's recovery is already known by those above me...she will be responsible for her own fate, as will your rebellion. After all, the decision has already been made, as you said.>
-
Illim raises his eyebrows at Corliss as Efaen leaves. "Well. I guess that went... you know... okay." He sighs and walks towards them. "Derrel was hoping to get a chance to talk to Reven, but I'm not about to suggest we call him again. He looked pretty testy. You know, he didn't look surprised to see me; think that means Myitt made it back and told him I might be trying to wriggle my way into your ranks?"
-
<Thank you,> Efaen says, turning towards the bar. She inhales deeply, squaring her shoulders and preparing to address her Prince.
<You could always tell her no, Ossanlin,> Terenia says bitterly from the pool. <Clearly she has no business being with the rebellion if she's free. Unless they think having a bigoted maniac around is fun. But I always thought that was more of the Academy's thing.>
-
Temrash made it to his ship, and moved it to the spot it was previously. He found a blank disc and downloaded the schematic of the AMR prototype, since he was alone in the ship now. He sent a message to Salem's ship.
"Temrash contacting Salem or Al. I assume you have something for me?"
Claxter walked towards the bar, though he didn't have any intention of hovering around Ossanlin as Efaen spoke to him. He just didn't feel like wandering around in the woods or anything right now.
<I guess we'll get a chance some time or another. I wonder how far to the base it is.> Derrel said. He wondered how good a trip it might be with Efaen and Terenia bickering all the way.
-
((Sorry I've been taking so long... :-\ ))
We deactivated the hologram on Claxter's affirmative. We followed him, following Efaen to the bar. We found our SION implant was almost regenerated.
-
It took a couple of seconds for Al to respond to Temrash's communication, but his voice was bright and cheerful.
"Hey, Temrash. It's Al. I don't actually have what you asked for yet- just record of one communication from that Skimmer thing. It's heavily encrypted, so chances are we'll need at least one more transmission from them to break the encryption. The computer's working on breaking the encryption now. If you want, I can send you a copy of the transmission and you can work on cracking it too.
"I'm actually recording another communication now, but this one is local, and less encrypted. The recipient is somewhere in the bar. I should be able to tell a bit more after the computers have had some time to analyze it. Might help crack the code for you, too."
-
"Go ahead and send me what you have, Al. Any progress is good, even if we're not quite there. Both communications, please." Temrash said.
-
Efaen reaches the bar and enters. It seems like a long time since she has been inside. It has been an eventful number of hours, she reminds herself. It seems like a long time ago that she was still a prisoner inside her own head, contending with a grief-stricken Terenia.
She scans the area, quickly spotting Ossanlin. Andalite's are not difficult to find in a place such as the bar. They tend to stand out. She notices that Serid is near him, but he seems to be engaged in conversation via his communicator. She approaches the bar on the opposite side of Serid, giving him a cautious nod and resting her arms on the counter as she waits.
-
We approached Claxter, <When would be an appropriate time to converse with your Prince Ossanlin?>
We began to access memory files...correction. ..memory engram...accumulate d from our history. What were we like before the Alvie...
-
<Prince Ossanlin is inside the bar proper, and you should be able to speak with him after Efaen is done. Assuming she will do that immediately instead of perhaps changing her mind.>
-
"I apologize, Ossanlin," Corliss says cordially, "but the decision was hers, not mine. Perhaps Efaen requires a stronger understanding of military hierarchy, and following orders. I, for one, am not thrilled at this outcome."
He looks over at Illim. "Myitt? Yes, they should have arrived safely by now..." He purses his lips. "Why would she bring you up, and not your Andalite friend? Or...was there some trouble between you and Tora?"
-
((Sorry for the wait Al...))
"...You could say that, I guess...."
<<We're sure going out on a limb, now aren't we?>> Jasper asked. Sapttus didn't answer.
"I uh... read somewhere once that the most powerful trade is information." Sapttus borrowed some of Jasper's uncertainty, intending to seem less confident and more vulnerable. Hopefully, the tradesman would be more interested in working with someone who didn't seem to know what they were doing. Not that either of them were experienced in bartering at all, either way. Sapttus took off the glasses, despite Jasper's mild complaining. <<Why can't you leave the glasses alone?>> "I... don't know how much use it would be to you, wherever you're from - or uh, whenever - but..." He looks over his shoulder. At the time being, the coast was clear. "...I know a couple secrets. Things that... I really shouldn't know about. But I figure that shouldn't be a problem, right?"
-
Ossanlin pressures his forehead with his free hand, sighing. <<I do apologize for snapping Corliss...but I'm certain Reven did not approve my conditions, which means I cannot justify Efaen's departure.>> Ossanlin watches with a stalk eye as Efaen enters. <<Perhaps she does. I will not stop her, but her record with our military will be forever tarnished. I thank you for informing me, I shall see to the matter. And tell Terenia hello for me, it sounds as if she's in a pleasant mood.>> He moves to close out the comm device.
-
<Wait!> Terenia cries, frustration thick as she lets her voice carry over the communication. The entire reason she told Corliss to contact Ossanlin was so that she could accept his offer, and now he was avoiding the topic?
<Aren't you going to tell him, Corliss?> she demands, not really caring to wait for an answer. She just wants to get it over with before she loses her courage and changes her mind again. It's this or tupperware, she reminds herself. As much as she wants to cling to her ability to morph, she has to admit that Efaen was unlikely to change her mind.
<Ossanlin, I'd like to go through with your...with the thing we were talking about earlier,> she has a hard time articulating Ossanlin's offer. It still sounds like magic to her.
<I'm...I'm clearly not going to get Efaen back as a host and I...this might be my only chance.> She hesitates, <If the offer still stands I...please?> she finishes lamely, the plea sounding foreign coming from her.
-
Al said into the communicator, "Alright, transmitting the first one now. It's really just a record of the Z-space signals transmitted by the ship. You might have better luck with the decryption than I have been. It already looks like it might be a complex rotating digital cipher, or something else ridiculous. I'm not great with Yeerk stuff. I'll shoot the second one your way as soon as the transmission's finished and compiled in the system."
The record of the transmission was sent directly to Temrash's computer as Al continued, "At least this is kind of fun, in a twisted sort of way. From what Salem told me, you don't need the code broken if we can just find a way to simulate it, right?"
((No worries, Bear ^_^))
Salem thought for a second before grinning at Jasper. He seemed nervous, which was probably a good sign if he was offering 'secrets.' People rarely offered good ones lightly.
"Walk with me," he said, and turned and began moving towards his ship. He talked as he walked.
"These have got to be secrets that someone would find fairly useful, right? Otherwise you wouldn't consider them valuable. Chances are I can offer something pretty nice for them. Tell me, what do these 'secrets' pertain to, exactly? Or... to whom, I guess I should ask."
As they neared Salem's ship, the ship's ramp slid open, nearly silently, and settled to the ground. Salem came to a stop at the bottom of the ramp and turned to face Jasper.
"And what is it you're hoping to get out of this deal? If what you have is really valuable, I can guarantee I won't short-change you."
-
Mar absentmindedly sits beside Ossanlin. To anyone paying close enough attention, it'd be clear that there are moments when his butt is not on the chair. But this seems mainly to be from habit than anything---long periods of flight wear him out. It's not really his concern as to what Ossanlin's problems are as War-Prince, or what this "Serid" person might want with him. Ossanlin appears to be speaking into his communicator...to Corliss and Terenia?
Mar blinks and frowns. "What on Earth do they want? What's happened?"
-
"Sorry, I'll let you finish," Illim shakes his head, folding his arms and wandering aimlessly towards the ship's controls, inspecting them casually. The ship is significantly larger and, therefore most likely more powerful, than his own tiny model, so it provides some level of interest for him while he waits on Corliss to wrap up the conversation.
Also, the thought of dwelling on why Myitt might take issue with him is not something he particularly wants to dwell on, here at what is hopefully the eve of his indoctrination into the rebellion.
Serid looks up from waiting on Ossanlin as Efaen enters. He gives her his own, cautious nod. Why would she return here? he wonders, especially after her earlier ... pronouncement.
-
"All I need to know if where the signal is coming from so I can send one there. I don't really need the code broken." Temrash told Al. He considered sending the information to one of his own computer people that was better than he was.
-
Sapttus followed, feeling slightly tense. Or.. maybe it was Jasper. Why, he wasn't exactly sure.
"I'm hoping you'd find them somewhat useful. I really don't know though, since I have no clue where or when you're from. I'm uh, still kinda new to the whole 'alternate universe' concept."
"Part of me is still waiting for Captain Kirk to come by..." Jasper added.
"I have classified blueprints available to me, of high-ranking Yeerk vessels, and other facilities. I could make those available to you, assuming they would be of any value to you..." <<Oh yeah, I forgot about those. Man, I'm not sure if I can still do that...>> <<Yes, you can.>> <<But...>> <<I'm right here. In your head. I know full well you can.>> <<Okay, okay... >> Jasper felt a little nervous now.
"I'm looking for uh... medical supplies."
<<Does that really count as 'supplies'?>>
<<You humans have such stupid language, how should I know?>>
<<Don't ask me. I failed English, remember? I just figured a vaccine might count, but... I don't know about this...>>
<<Well, we'll clarify if we need to when the time comes.>>
-
"Right, gotcha," Al said over the comm link to Temrash. "Right now they're basically the same thing to me. Location information is hidden in the encryption, if it's there at all. These paranoid types have a tendency to find ways to do without it. It's crazy... I don't get it, but I'm good at breaking through it. If that transmission was to the rebel base, it should only take me another couple of communications to get the info, no sweat. If I can break the code from just one transmission, you'll be the first to know. Or... well, the second. After me." He laughed halfheartedly at his own stupid little joke.
He then shut off the communicator and turned in his chair. He called down the open ramp to Salem, "Hey, you gonna introduce me?"
Salem raised his eyebrows as Jasper described what he had, and what he wanted.
"Who's Captain Kirk?" he wondered quietly, before shrugging to himself and addressing Jasper more directly. "That sounds like very interesting information," he said. "If it's as good as you make it sound, I'm going to need to come up with some pretty valuable medical supplies to make it worth your while."
When Al called down the ramp, Salem rolled his eyes and gestured up the ramp for Jasper's benefit, "Jasper, that's Al, my pilot. Al," he called up the ramp, "this is Jasper."
"You're welcome to come aboard and see what I have to offer in the way of medical supplies. You're a Yeerk, right?" he guessed. Jasper didn't strike him as a Yeerk name, but he didn't claim to be an expert, and the guy was offering Yeerk blueprints. "I might have some things you'd appreciate. You imperial?"
-
"Thanks Al. Hopefully Corliss will hang around long anough to make another call or two to Reven. If he doesn't, we'll have to make do with what we have." Temrash said. "Unless Myitt shows back up or something. Though if Myitt does show back up, I should have an easier time reasoning with her. Corliss has gone loopy over Terenia, and since I'm not in love with her like he is he's shut me down entirely."
-
"Yes, wait Ossanlin, there's one other thing," Corliss says hurriedly. "Besides the situation with Efaen, well...it's like Terenia has said. This might be her only chance to regain the only thing that's keeping her sanity. Will you please consider it?"
He glances up at the ceiling. "Sorry," he hisses to Terenia, looking abashed.
-
"Howdy..." Sapttus muttered, giving a half-hearted wave to the guy up the ramp.
<<No, now come on, you can do a better 'howdy' than that.>>
And now it was time to come out and say it. Sapttus couldn't beat around the bush anymore, and there was no way for him to get his cure if he lied about it now.
"You'll have to pardon me, Salem. I've been holding back just a bit. I am indeed a Yeerk. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Sapttus 2911. Jasper is my host."
"Although I'm more like a party host, or something. Sapttus gets annoying sometimes, but I'm fine with him up in my head."
"I'm not sure what you mean though... Imperial? Is there... an alternative?"
-
Al waved down the ramp to Jasper with a warm smile, then transmitted to Temrash, "That's kinda what Salem was saying. That Corliss was impossible to reason with. He also threw in a few choice words that I didn't think were necessary. Anyway, if we do our job right, you'll never have to deal with him."
At the bottom of the ramp, Salem shrugged, "Apparently there is. On this rock, anything's possible." He started walking backwards up the ramp of the ship, so he could continue speaking to Jasper as he walked, "So, should I call you Sapttus then? And... would it be prying if I asked why you avoided introducing yourself as a Yeerk? Most Yeerks here are pretty open about who and what they are."
He glanced over his shoulder up into the ship- the outside of the craft appeared to be a featureless ellipsoid, blacker than black and cold to the touch, and the inside would appear to be the same sort of featureless style, but the gray, ovular room was lined with what looked like stainless steel shelving units. In the center of the room was the chair in which Al was sitting, and there were various other surfaces in the ship that seemed to just rise organically from the floor- all still dominated by the shiny, gun-metal gray color. On the walls of the craft, there were a few brightly-colored images that seemed to represent certain spacecraft and people outside. Nearly every raised surface, from the shelving units to the tables and benches protruding from the floor, was covered in a spectacular array of items and artifacts from dozens of different civilizations.
Once he reached the top of the ramp, he turned to face Al and asked, "Where're my little friends?"
Al jerked his thumb over at what appeared to be a work bench situated in the middle of the floor, "They're a little antsy, but they're ready to go."
Salem walked over to the bench and picked up what looked like a small copper tube with a point on one end, and sealed off on the other. It was no bigger around than his little finger, and not much longer. There was writing on it, in a language Salem himself couldn't read, and he knew most people on this planetoid would never have seen. He smirked as he turned it over in his hand.
Without turning around, he called over his shoulder to Sapptus, "Want to look at some of my medical supplies? If you'd like to chat some more before making a deal, I have some business to attend to elsewhere in the shipyard."
-
Ossanlin sighs before looking back at the communicator. <Look, I'm sorry but I can't try to revert Terenia right now. It would require a large amount of energy reserve and I'm dealing with a possible fight in here. I have to save what little reserves I have at the moment. Until this situation is resolved or until I have more energy stored, I cannot risk it. You'll have to wait awhile...it will take a few days for me to store up enough energy to perform the procedure without risk to myself.>
-
<<This definitely isn't a Bug Fighter, now is it?>>
<<Now what gave you that impression?>>
"It depends on who you're talking to. There's two of us here, and Jasper can speak for himself. And... you could say there are people we wouldn't like to find us here. It's not like we're being hunted or anything, but we aren't exactly on vacation here, either. Not everyone is acceptant of my kind, and not everyone agrees with a Yeerk being friends with his host. We just wanted to test the waters first."
Jasper look around while the two talk. He's trying to commit all of this to memory. He knew he wouldn't be hear for too long, but it was just so ... fascinating. Look at all the cool junk on the walls! This was like an antique shop on steroids! <<No, we can't touch anything...>> Sapttus had to remind him. <<Darn.>>
"Of course. We wouldn't want to keep you waiting. I'd take up your offer to look around, but I'd have no clue what I'm looking at here."
"This stuff is just too cool. Where'd you get it all from?" Jasper broke in. "Oh, I uh, don't mean to intrude..."
"We'll walk with you, if that's alright. Should give us more time to work out a deal."
<<This is too easy.>> Sapttus thought.
-
Salem turned and smiled in response to Jasper's question. "My stuff comes from all over the universe. Multiple universes. I've been drifting between alien cultures for longer than I'd care to admit. I um..." he paused, still not sure who he was addressing when. "I think I'll just keep calling you Jasper for now. It's easier on me. Besides, there seems to be a bit of an anti-imperial streak among some of the bar's patronage, so it might be smart to keep your profile low."
He bent down, pulled up his right pant leg, and unstrapped what looked like a small gun made out of pieces of copper pipe. It was crossed with the same sort of writing that was on the tube he'd grabbed. He pushed his pant leg back down and started walking back down the ramp.
"Alright, we'll keep talking," he said, sliding open a chamber on the 'gun' and pulling out a tube that looked almost identical to the first, save some of the writing, and a series of black bands. He was careful not to touch the tip. "So what kinds of supplies are you looking for? I have Heprumei genetic and cybernetic stuff that would make most species drool with envy." He stuck his new tube inside the gun's chamber and closed it with a click and a soft hiss. Now at the bottom of the ramp, he turned to face Jasper. "Or a few things from the Janapa or the Pemalites that might be right up your alley."
-
Terenia's heart plummets. She hadn't really been aware of how much she wanted this chance, and the overwhelming sense of desperation that she feels when Ossanlin pushes her request aside is surprising.
<I can't wait,> she says, her 'voice' coming out harsher than she intends it to. She can't really help it, - the only emotion she is any good at portraying is anger - but her tone probably won't do much to help her cause. <Corliss needs to go back to the base. What am I supposed to do, sit in a baggie and wait for you on the bar counter? It's not like I have my own ship anymore thanks to that dapsen old host of mine. I don't have a host right now, I don't have anywhere safe to go and they'll leave without me.> The more she goes over her list of obstacles the more desperate she sounds.
<<Corliss...>> she pleads.
Efaen says nothing as Ossanlin speaks privately on the com link. Instead, she uses the time to ruminate over the recent events. She was dreading the idea of joining the Yeerk rebellion. The thought of living with the slimy beasts made her skin crawl. But Corliss had had a point. Making a difference in this war required action; swift, decisive action that she would be unable to carry out aboard a Dome Ship or in quarantine.
It was the honorable thing to do.
-
Claxter made it inside the bar and ordered a drink in a dish. He chose a spot away from his Prince and fellow Warrior, and tried to enjoy his drink.
-
<If you have to leave immediately, we'll have to do it some other time. I simply can't risk using energy right now what with the threats on my life by what appear to be superhuman beings. Though I am glad you did not ask before this individual threatened me...going through with the procedure then would've put me in a very...compromising ...position right now.> Ossanlin sighs. <I am not withdrawing the offer...I believe others beyond yourself would stand to benefit from my attempt at reverting your own form...I am merely delaying it. You will simply have to wait, there is no other option.>
-
Corliss shrugs helplessly, although Terenia cannot see it.
"I don't know what else to do, love," he says to the pool communication system. "Save stopping whoever these people are from threatening Ossanlin."
He turns back to the open screen linking to Ossanlin's communicator. "Listen, mate, do you reckon these idiots who are threatening you would be so bold if you had a Skimmer ship on your side?" Corliss's grin is lit up by the cool green of the holoscreen.
-
Salem turned and smiled in response to Jasper's question. "My stuff comes from all over the universe. Multiple universes. I've been drifting between alien cultures for longer than I'd care to admit. I um..." he paused, still not sure who he was addressing when. "I think I'll just keep calling you Jasper for now. It's easier on me. Besides, there seems to be a bit of an anti-imperial streak among some of the bar's patronage, so it might be smart to keep your profile low."
He bent down, pulled up his right pant leg, and unstrapped what looked like a small gun made out of pieces of copper pipe. It was crossed with the same sort of writing that was on the tube he'd grabbed. He pushed his pant leg back down and started walking back down the ramp.
"Alright, we'll keep talking," he said, sliding open a chamber on the 'gun' and pulling out a tube that looked almost identical to the first, save some of the writing, and a series of black bands. He was careful not to touch the tip. "So what kinds of supplies are you looking for? I have Heprumei genetic and cybernetic stuff that would make most species drool with envy." He stuck his new tube inside the gun's chamber and closed it with a click and a soft hiss. Now at the bottom of the ramp, he turned to face Jasper. "Or a few things from the Janapa or the Pemalites that might be right up your alley."
Jasper almost literally drooled. Salem's stuff had to be as cool as it looked. All he wanted to do was see how some of it worked, what it did, what it was for. Was that too much to ask?
<<Yes. It is.>>
<<Come on... Don't you want to check it out too?>>
<< Well of course, but that's not something we can do right now. Take a good long look. This might be all we're gonna get.>>
<<Oh trust me, I am.>> He'd kept his gaze set on one particular set of shelves, trying to make a mental picture, though he doubted he'd be unable to recreate it truthfully.
"Jasper works for me. I mean, for us. That's what we normally do anyways. I think his mother would not only be confused if we had this conversation with her, but she might just stop breathing all together."
"He's right. She would."
"And I'll take your advice about keeping our cover. I appreciate it."
<<Are you looking at the thing he's toying with strapped to his leg? It looks like a tranquilizer.>>
<<I have no clue what that is, but it isn't nearly as interesting as these ->>
<<I was more worried about if it was a weapon. Truth be told, we hardly know the guy. We should stay alert. Both of us.>>
<<Oh. Oh right. Good idea. But... I dunno, I kinda think this guy's alright. Let's just not cross him, and well, I think we'll be okay.>>
<<Here's hoping you're right, Jasper.>>
"I'm looking for ...." Sapttus couldn't find the right way to say it. "I suffer from a somewhat unique medical condition." He felt so exposed laying it out in the open for a complete stranger. But, Salem had shown to have some interesting things under his possession. "I haven't had much luck correcting it myself..." He paused, not sure how to continue. It was hard convincing himself to. He wanted to hold back, but how could he get what he wanted - no, needed - if he wasn't able to ask for it? He followed Salem down the ramp, and Sapttus held up his hands, blocking the sudden brightness. <<See? It's too bright! Why won't you wear the glasses? That's what they're for!">> <<Because I hate them. That's why.>> <<You're unbelievable.>> Jasper sighed.
-
Okaru smiled and took another deep breath, of the frosty cool crisp air. For reasons his master could never discern, there were only a few ways to completely calm Okaru down. A moment of fresh air, swimming, and strangest of all yet the most potent is when he is near fire.
Okaru turned and dropped silently to ground. Pushing the door open gently, he decided one more deep breath couldnt hurt so he did just that.
Glancing around the bar swiftly, he took in his surroundings. From first glance he saw that the Andalite was no longer talking to the being with the strange aura alone, but seemed to be speaking to new arrivals, at least one being through a comlink of some sort.
His ears were trained intensly, just as his entire body had been pushed to the limit during his years of being Master Zenza's apprentice. But even with the enhanced focus and hearing, Okaru found he couldnt hear what they were saying! It was really shocking him to no end.
Within seconds of spotting the group talking, Okaru groaned and
Post Merged: April 26, 2011, 08:20:43 AM
slapped his forehead as he began walking to them muttering, ''Duh. They dont speak audibly. And didnt he say that Andalites were capable of sending their thoughts back and forth privately...?''
He then shook his head, and reached the Andalite he was beggining to presume was more than Ossanlins simple aquaintance...
Turning his attention first, not to the Andalite, but to the humanoid from before he questioned, ''Who......what are you? I have seen several different types of species in my years. I have faced Demonic entities that enhabit human bodies, all the way down to every race of average man there is! But I have never seen...anything...a t all...similar to what I see when I look at you. It is most amazing, and intriguing. Just intriguing enough that I wish to make a bargain. You seem to be a friend to this Ossanlin person, amazingly enough I dont think this is just a charade either. I think you feel great...maybe its respect? For this being. And you are willing to protect him. I however have very few to
Post Merged: April 26, 2011, 08:38:20 AM
respect in the same fashion, so i decided to respect a belief instead. The belief that strength and power are not the only things neccessary for the perfect fighter, as my Master tried to make me. The belief that knowledge is just as important, if not more so. So the bargain is this, if you are willing to explain what you are, and the history of your species, i will then provide my own information as to who my investor is and any other information you request. I just am trully devoted currently to trying to find out what is with your aura...or more accurately the lack there of...all living beings have aura..but you dont..'' Close to the end, anyone paying attention would only be able to guess that he ended purely thinking outloud.
Why does this intrigue me so? Okaru thought, this is someone who is keeping me from accomplishing my mission, yet if he even just told me his story as a trade for me to leave afterward I think I probably would! This...is just physically impossible...
-
"Medical condition?" Salem repeated. His mind wandered to Keshin and Joanne. Their 'medical condition' had been something he'd been unfamiliar with. Yeerk internal systems weren't something he felt strongly capable of dealing with.
He shook his head, and started walking in the direction of the Skimmer. "I'm no doctor, of course, but between Al, myself and my ship's computer, we might be able to find something that'll help with... with whatever it is."
Al came jogging down the ramp behind them, for some reason straightening the tie of his tuxedo, even though it was a hologram.
"I've gotta get my mind off of that PPS for a while," he said. "I'm getting a headache."
Without looking back, Salem nodded, then continued speaking to Jasper, "What is this condition you've got?"
-
Mar turns his head as Ossanlin discusses his reluctance to assist Terenia. Ossanlin did have a point---the swordsman was a serious problem. They couldn't go on gallumphing about in the time stream when there was a bounty hunter out to kill them. To Mar's surprise, that very swordsman wanders back into the Bar. Mar frowns as the swordsman rambles on, contrary to his previous terse behavior. Mar's expression is quizzical, unsure what to make of what the man has asked him.
Mar closes his eyes, thinking on the matter. "You wish a trade, then? My identity and purpose for your reason for killing Ossanlin and any other information I seek regarding you? ....that's fair, except for a single problem: that information regarding me is likely far more valuable than your own. There are many, many people who want me dead, swordsman. Not all of them in the wrong. Whatever universe you hail from, if it has any connection to my domains at all, could damage my investments if the word about me gets out. But..."
Mar smiles in a slightly odd way. "....I have no aura because I am dead, young mortal. Utterly and completely. This entity you see is an echo, one of many that draw and source from the maw of Oblivion. I am something called...oh, well you'd probably call it something else. I call it, appropriately, a Highest. If you want any more than that, you'll need to prove in some way that you won't spread what you find around."
-
<<Well here goes nothing.>>
<<More like everything.>>
"It's a substance dependency. I can't speak for all Yeerks, especially those ... outside of my own universe... but where I come from, Yeerks are susceptible to a drug-like addiction to a specific type of processed human food. Maple and Ginger Oatmeal. The 'instant' variety. It sounds ridiculous, I'm sure, but it's caused quite a problem back on Earth. I've been hiding it for nearly an Earth year now. The Visser disapproves of it."
Jasper laughed in his head. <<That's an understatement, don't you think?>> He thought that Al looked rather... dressed up, for a place like this. "Nice suit..."
-
Okaru leaned back slightly in shock. He had been expecting an explanation that would make sense, not one that would make him stutter!
He slowly and thoughtfully sat on the closest stool.
''I...well...uhmm...h aha im not going to lie that was by far the furthest thing from what even my strangest thoughts could have imagined. If i swear to never repeat your information, will you do simply as I requested? I dont even want to know what abilities and limitations you have or nothing of the like! I simply am one who loves knowledge. And through all of my multidimensional travels, I can safely say that this tops all of the most outrageous events Ive faced, by a thousand miles!'' Pausing to see if the man would do as he requested, Okaru began to try to think about how it might be possible to do something such as what this man proposed.
But then like a clap of thunder, Okaru suddenly jerked his mind back to the here and now.
''Before I hear if you will however, you did release some information and quite frankly(..)
Post Merged: April 26, 2011, 02:19:03 PM
it pretty much blew me off my feet with the bit you did allow me. So, seeing as I did make the deal I will follow through. The person who paid for my services in a very large payment, to find this Ossanlin being was his biological father's brother. He reported that long before he turned up missing some time ago, he had made a pact with his brother. And now he cannot find him, so he knew if someone spoke with Ossanlin he would help. He also told me however, that the likely hood of Ossanlin having ever heard of him, was nearly microscopic. He did however give me a certain item that belonged to Ossanlins family, as proof that he is family...There. Now, seeing as you now have heard my intentions are not to bad, will you please show me to Ossanlin? His uncle doesnt have long.''
-
Salem moved to where he could see a portion of the Skimmer, took aim with his copper gun, and fired. There was a loud Crrrraaaaack as the projectile left the gun, and a smaller pop and a slight fizzling sound a split second later as the projectile impacted the shields. Salem was surprised to see the shields up on the ship- but it would actually work in his favor. The microbes contained within the projectile he'd just fired fed primarily on energy- they would make their way through the shields and into the ship's power systems, diffusing much more quickly than if they'd simply been scattered across the ship's hull.
Inside the Skimmer, there would likely be a moment in which the lights would dim and the power systems would strain against the high concentration of microbes in one place, but things would appear to return to normal within seconds. After that, the only evidence of their presence, short of a thorough scan of the craft, would be an apparent decrease of a few percent in the ship's power output.
Salem opened the chamber on his gun and reinserted the dart/tube he'd been holding, then bent down to re-strap it to his leg.
"Thanks, it's imported," Al said to Jasper with a grin.
Salem rolled his eyes, and, standing back up, turned to face Jasper. "I don't know what this... what'd you call it? Hoat meal? Is. I take it this is a fairly powerful addiction then, right? To get anywhere, I'm going to need to take a few images of you, find some way to compare them to a normal Yeerk, and I'm going to need some of your instant... whatever."
"Have you tried just quitting cold-turkey?" Al asked with a smirk.
-
The holoscreen Corliss is staring at flickers suddenly.
"Hello? Ossanlin, are you there, mate?" He looks up as the white, globular overhead lights flicker dark. "What in the Christ..."
And then the screens are back on again, the lights are on, and the transmission with Ossanlin has been cut.
"Illim," Corliss murmurs, bringing up a second holoscreen, "this is most definitely not normal. Rrghh, I swear, if that idiot Salem really did place a bug on my ship..."
-
<What's going on?> Terenia asks. She can only hear the audio outputs, but she can tell that Corliss is alarmed about...something. She thought she felt a slight change in the current of the pool, but that didn't tell her very much.
<Corliss?>
-
Illim glances up at the overhead lights as they flicker and then frowns at Corliss. "Yeah, that's... a distinct possibility. To be honest, I didn't actually get a chance to check the computer for a bug while you and Terenia were swapping out in the pool. It's nowhere near my specialty, but I can poke around, if you want."
-
<It couldn't hurt.> Derrel said. <Though I'm not sure what exactly you'd look for.>
-
Corliss curses under his breath. "Check outside, Illim. Make sure you have a weapon. I want to make sure it wasn't an external impact." He pinches his nose irritably. "I'll scan the system, but if that bastard's half as good as he pretends to be then we're in a ****ing mess."
He impatiently hovers the holoscreen icons into their proper orientation, running a deep scan of external encryptions.
"Terenia," he says tersely, "there was a bit of a hiccup in the power, you might have felt it. I'm really becoming quite suspicious of our friend Salem, snooping round in here. If we've been tapped, or a tracker's been placed, I want to know who set us up."
-
"What did -" Jasper was going to ask, but then he stopped himself.
<<I probably shouldn't ask, should I?>>
<<I don't think so.>>
<<But what was that gun thing?>>
<< I don't know, and frankly, I'm just glad he didn't shoot it at us.>>
<<I agree. Let's not show him our fighter though.>>
<< Good idea.>>
"No surprise." Jasper said to Al, turning back from watching Salem. "I'm jealous."
"You don't know what oatmeal is? You really have to be from a different universe." After Sapttus heard Salem's plan, his shoulders slumped slightly. "I guess it was crazy for me to think you'd have something for this readily available. I only have a limited supply with me, so I can't spare much..." With that, he pulled out a packet and handed it out for the tradesman to take, and then he had to resist grabbing another bag himself. He had to ration it. This was going to be terrific.
"Let's put it this way. Last time we ran out, he nearly got us arrested before I could get us to the store. He was just flipping out about the leaves being the wrong color or something like that. So yeah, I'd say it's pretty powerful."
-
Salem took the oatmeal packet from Jasper and turned it over in his hands, scrutinizing it. It was covered in a writing he didn't recognize. He shook it, getting a feel for the contents.
"This is supposed to be food?" he wondered out loud. With a shrug, he tossed the packet to Al, and turned to walk back towards his ship.
"You'll have to come back to my ship so I can take some scans and maybe do a test or two," Salem said to Jasper with a slight smirk. "It's nothing too intrusive, though, I promise. And I shouldn't need that for too long," he said, pointing at the oatmeal packet that Al was now shaking like a maraca to his own personal beat.
"Hey, dancin' machine, you coming with?" Salem asked Al.
Al shrugged and continued shimmying in time to some unheard song, accompanying with oatmeal-packet rhythm, "Eh, why not. Got nothing better to do."
-
<Dapsen,> Terenia curses bluntly. <We don't have time for this ****. I have a body to get back!> She swims in restless circles, entirely unhappy with the way the last few minutes have unfolded, and infuriated by the fact that there is nothing she can do about it.
<Just keep me updated, will you?> she snaps.
Efaen's ears perk up as an unknown man carrying a sword moves to speak to Mar. She quickly loses interest, though, not caring too much about Mar's history. One of the few things she and Terenia had agreed upon was that Mar was a person to avoid at all costs.
-
"Yeah, sure," Illim nods to Corliss, then looks around hopefully. "You wouldn't happen to have an extra Dracon? Serid's got mine still; I thought he might need it more than me but now that seems like a dumb idea."
To his host, he says, <<Me either, man, but if something stands out as being out of place, it could be our buddy snooping.>>
Serid, like Efaen, glances at the strange man approaching the individual with whom Ossanlin had been speaking, but his attention quickly returns to the War Prince. It is startling to think that someone might be attempting to harm him, specifically--especially someone so powerful that Ossanlin is worried about his ability to counter the attack. And what does he mean, power reserves? Is it related to whatever strange abilities he has to potentially cure nothlitism?
-
"There should be a spare in one of the hydraulic cabinets," Corliss says distractedly. "Check the storage room, it's the door right behind us. The one that doesn't lead to the pool."
He glares at the screens. "Ah, dapsen, our reserves are being drained just ever so slightly," he murmurs. "What are you up to?"
-
Ossanlin frowns as Corliss' comm signal goes dead. He taps the comm a few times with a finger before frowning again and strapping it back into his utility harness. He looks around the room and notices a myriad of ppl that had not been there when he had arrived. Serid is still sitting off to one side, but now Efaen and Claxter have rejoined the group...not to mention the hunter Okaru. Osssanlin frowns at that last part.
He thought it strange that Efaen was here at all...wasn't she leaving with the rebels? Odd...
-
"Thanks," Illim answers, turning to pass through the interior door, looking around curiously before opening the compartment closest to him. There, right in the front, is what he is looking for. "That was easy," he murmurs with a smirk. "I was hoping to see what kind of items a rebel would take into space, but I guess it'd be rude to pry."
Illim returns to Corliss. "Shout if you want me back inside," he says, holding the Dracon aloft to show he has found it, and heading towards the door. <<We'll be safe now that we're armed,>> he tells his host as he descends the ramp.
-
Derrel did feel safer with the gun, and since Corliss was intending to take him to the rebellion soon, he was feeling better about his future. <Now if we can just figure out how to get to the rebellion without Efaen and Terenia arguing the whole way. I don't suppose we should pry into their personal lives and see if they really do belong together? I mean, obviously Terenia needs a body and Andalites are pretty cool looking, but I'm not sure if Efaen actually needs a Yeerk if they're letting her in the rebellion anyway.>
-
Neither Jasper nor Sapttus could truly believe that Salem had never encountered oatmeal before. <<I feel kinda sorry for him. I mean, I don't like it the way you do, but... it's good stuff. What if we shared just a bit?>> <<...He's gone this long without it, I think he'll be fine. >> Jasper laughed slightly. <<You druggie...>>
"Well, normally, you're supposed to add hot water and let it hydrate. Sometimes it's a bit more convenient plain though."
"It's like trail mix or something." Jasper stops. "Tell me you've had trail mix..." He seemed genuinely concerned about how Salem answered. Sapttus decided to keep them going though.
"What kind of tests will these be? Will I need to disengage?"
<<Man, that's gonna be weird, isn't it?>>
<<How many months has it been since I've left? I can't even remember now.>>
<<Yeah, well, don't leave me for too long. I might just go crazy. But that's supposed to be your job...>>
<<Hey now.>> Sapttus said. He could take some jabs, but it was getting to him just a little bit. <<If it comes to that, I want you to stay right by me the whole time, alright? Don't let this guy tell you otherwise.>>
<<...Duh?>>
Jasper followed Salem and Al, amused by his care-free dancing. This guy seemed to have it all together. He was enjoying life, that was easy to see. He smiled a bit, but had no intentions of joining in. Not only would Sapttus probably stop him from embarrassing them like that, but he'd feel too awkward to anyways.
<<... You know what I just noticed?>> Sapttus said. <<I haven't seen a single bird the entire time we've been here.>>
-
Efaen sees Ossanlin put his comm away. She hesitates for a moment, before seizing the opportunity to speak with him. Shifting from her spot at the counter, she approaches him in a more formal manner, tail held at a respectful height.
<Prince Ossanlin,> she says crisply. <if you have a moment, I should like to speak to you regarding my future placement.>
-
Ossanlin glances sidewise at Efaen, sighing. <What is it now Efaen?>
-
Turning his gaze back to the Andalite from before, Okaru rubbed his chin. He was slowly but surely beggining to wonder...
Walking forward to the alien, Okaru bowed low to the floor and held himself there as he questioned just loud enough to be heard, ''You are Ossanlin, arent u??? That would explain the blades, your swiftness to evade me and a few other things. Im not wrong am I?''
-
<<Prince Ossanlin,>> Efaen pauses, gathering her thoughts as she addresses him privately. <<I have come to the conclusion that you were...correct...in your earlier presumption that I could be of use within the so-called rebellion. I am coming to you to formally seek assignment to their faction. I believe that, in addition to playing an active role in the destruction of the Empire, I will be able to provide the Andalite forces with valuable information regarding the rebellion's movements.>>
She holds herself with military rigidness as she speaks. <<You are, of course, my Prince, and as such I will not join the rebellion without your permission.>>
-
"Yeah, sure," Corliss says to Illim, distracted again as he watches the readout screens. He murmurs to himself. "Something is very wrong here, but I can't bloody pinpoint it. Goddamnit..."
He switches to Terenia's pool link system. "Terenia, tell me what you know about this Salem fellow. Where does he come from, do you know?"
-
<All I know is that the bastard attacked me with some crazy thought-speak weapon and tried to harbor Keshin after the dapsen turelek shot me,> Terenia says hotly. <His ship isn't anything I've ever seen before, and neither are his weapons. I don't know much else. I haven't exactly stopped to chat with him.>
-
Corliss nods at the screens. "Yeah, whatever's bugged my system isn't like anything I've seen before," he says worriedly. "I can't tell what it's doing or what sort of technology it is, only that it's there, and it's leeching power. That may just narrow things down quite a bit, if we know it's not Yeerkish or Andalite. I swear, Salem was in here trying to hack in to the Skimmer's system. Now what would an apparent mercenary from another universe want with a Yeerk ship? Unless someone paid him to do this?"
-
<It's possible,> Terenia says. <Or a trade of some sort. Who cares why he's doing it? The point is that someone is messing with your ship and we have more important things to deal with.> Her agitated circles pick up speed as her frustration increases. <Can you find Salem? Where is he?>
-
"I want to know why he's doing it, so I can punch the dapsen who paid him," Corliss snaps. "I don't know where Salem is. Illim went outside to inspect the hull..."
He looks over at the hatchway. "Perhaps I should go out there, myself," he mutters.
-
Salem smirked at Jasper and shrugged at the mention of 'trail mix,' then turned towards him, his eyes slowly getting wider, at the mention of 'disengaging.' Al, in the meantime, added to his song sequence some improvised lyrics about trail mix, alternating between shaking the oatmeal packet and singing into it like a microphone.
Salem seemed momentarily distracted by Al, but ignored him and spoke to Jasper. "Disengage?" he asked, making his way back up his ship's ramp and to the inside. "As in, disengage from each other? Can..." he paused, half afraid he was about to ask a stupid question, then decided to continue. He'd never paid a whole lot of attention to Yeerks, except what he needed to know, but now that he was frequently dealing with them, he figured it was time to start learning a bit about them.
"Can you do that without another host here? I mean, yes, that would be ideal. I um... do I need to do anything for that?" He was looking at Jasper with a slightly sideways glance, not really sure how to take his offer.
"It makes me proud to eat the M&M's all day!
But at the bottom it's only peanuts left anyway!
Ohhhh whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy yyyyyy!!???" Al belted, getting more and more into his song, and earning a look from Salem that was halfway between amused and annoyed.
-
Apparently, Salem wasn't the multi-universe faring tradesman of vast knowledge Sapttus had thought he was. Sure, chances were he really was a multi-universe faring tradesman, but it was somewhat surprising that in all his dealings with others, he'd never learned even the most basic facts about the Yeerks. That... could be useful information, too... Sapttus was pleased to realize that maybe he did have more valuable 'confidential' secrets he could share... if he played his cards right.
"...Yes. Disengage. I'll simply push out through his ear canal, and with Jasper's help, I will return once your testing is complete. Have.... you not heard of that before?" Sapttus looked confused. ...Didn't everyone know that?
<<Apparently not. This guy here is a hoot.>>
Jasper changed their expression to a grin, and turned just a bit to face Al.
"Oh good. I was worried neither of you had ever had trail mix before. You don't hold back much, do you fella?" he chuckled lightly at Al's singing attempt.
-
Ossanlin ****s his head, chuckling internally. Would she really obey his orders or not? <<I am...surprised to hear you say that Efaen. Of course I have already reported your recovery to the Homeworld. I would be glad to give you assignment within the faction as long as you and Reven both accept the terms I set down when we last spoke with him. I, of course, will need to hear directly from Reven that those terms have been accepted by the rebellion as well.>>
Ossanlin looks at Okaru and sighs internally. <I am Ossanlin-Rethin-Sephirel, Captain of the Dome Ship Tyrennian, Senior Commander of the Sedrothi Andromeda Fleet. And I do not have an uncle...nor would any Andalite need to pay a human to reach me. What do you want?>
-
''I know this Ossanlin. The story was obviously falsified. Now as to what do I want? I have gotten myself to relax and calm down, so I would like it if we can take a step outside.'' Okaru said as he righted himself, staring Ossanlin directly in his main eyes.
-
Al laughed and shook his head. "I'm old enough to know that holding back is less fun. That's not to say that I haven't been singing since I was first switched on, but still, time has shown me to be right."
Salem smirked at Al, then shrugged and shook his head at Jasper. "I've never spent a whole lot of time with Yeerks," he admitted. "There's plenty else to learn without having to get intimate with every species I run across."
-
Efaen nods her stalk eyes. <<Reven has agreed to my admittance into the rebellion. Whether or not he is accepting of your terms specifically, I do not know.>>
She hesitates as the swordsman addresses Ossanlin.
<I see that you have other business to attend to at the moment, my Prince,> Efaen says, switching to open thought-speak so that Okaru can hear. <Please, do not hesitate to alert me if you require any assistance.>
-
Mar growls with clear irritation, his pupils narrowing from cat-sized orbs into snake-like slits. It's clear from close up that he is mostly human, but there are a few oddities in his genetic makeup. "So, swordsman. You lied to me, whereas I told you the absolute truth as I understand it. How repulsive. My operatives lie during a business deal when it is useful to bend the truth---yet you lie to a Highest when it confers you little benefit. But..."
Mar frowns uncomfortably, biting his lip. ".....I should have caught you in deception the moment I heard you speak. I am becoming far, far too human. Ossanlin...if you need my help I will give it. With what little I have left in this rotting corpse."
-
Okaru turned his gaze upon the...dead being, ''Who said that this would not benefit me? This knowledge is most beneficial. Because as you have admitted to being an entity that is dead, it seems most obvious that anyway you can help in the innevitable altercation, will be supplying energy. All I have to do is hold out till your energy drains. And if you are to lose all of your energy, you die. Theoretically of course.''
-
Claxter noticed a certain Human with a sword was causing Ossanlin and his friend Mar irritation, though he wasn't close enough to hear the Human over the drone of the crowd.
<<Prince Ossanlin, is that Human picking a fight with you? Will you require assistance?>>
-
<<...Switched on? What does... I don't get it.>> Jasper said.
<<It must be some space freak terminology for being born.>>
<<I guess so. Maybe they're all ruled by giant robotic overlords, who recognize birth as being turned on. That would make some sense.>>
Sapttus laughed. <<And I thought I was the crazy one.>>
<<What? You think you get that title all to yourself? Please...>>
<<You're right. You humans have your own brand of stupidity.>>
<<Hey now....>> Jasper feigned offense, but couldn't help snorting and laughing just a bit. They both smiled a little.
"Sounds like a pretty decent lifestyle if you ask me. Not that... I find myself doing the macarena in the near future, but it's certainly fun watching you enjoy yourself." Jasper said. Sapttus then took his turn and turned back to Salem.
"I think it is safe to say you're going to learn a bit about Yeerks after poking and prodding at me for a while." He stopped, suddenly bearing a serious expression. "That was a figure of speech. There isn't going to be any poking or prodding, is there?
<<Not a fan of needles?>> Jasper smirked.
<<Oh you're one to talk.>> Sapttus didn't think that it was quite the same issue anyways. When you're only about two inches long, needles suddenly pose a much greater threat.... Especially since the guy holding it is someone who has next to no clue what you are.
Sapttus really hoped there would be no needles.
-
Temrash decided it was about time he had a feeding, especially since things had quieted down. His computer was working on what Al had given him, and he didn't have much else going on. As he fed, Jagill left for the bar after locking the ship. He entered the bar, found a stool, and ordered a drink.
-
<You don't need to leave the ship,> Terenia says quickly, the thought of being alone and helpless aboard the Skimmer more terrifying than she wants to let on. <Illim will take care of whatever there is to take care of outside. Shouldn't you check and see that he didn't do anything to the computers themselves?>
-
<<I think I'll save the prying into her life until after we're safe and sound in the rebellion,>> Illim tells his host as he steps off the ship's ramp and begins his search for anything suspicious. <<Seems Corliss likes her, and he's our ticket into their ranks, so if we piss her off, we piss him off too.>> He turns to the right, peering around the ship for a retreating figure. <<Not that I'm not as curious about her as you are.>>
-
<<Hmm. Well what are you curious about? I've noticed I can't actually read your thoughts, or at least I just haven't figured out how, so what are your main concerns?>> Derrel asked.
-
Ossanlin nods to Temrash as he leaves and then sends a private thought to both Claxter and Efaen. <<Warriors, please accompany me outside...I believe this human wishes a fight.>> Ossanlin looks at Mar with a stalk eye and sends him a private message as well. <<I am depending upon you my friend. Please come with me outside, at least this human knows enough not to fight in a room full of innocents.>>
Ossanlin then raises his chin a bit and sighs. <I suppose we can quit playing games then can't we? Very well, at least you are willing to take it outside.> Ossanlin turns on his hoof, his back to Okaru and the rest of those whom he had addressed as he trots outside at a stately pace, in no particular rush.
-
Claxter quickly follows his Prince, holding himself high to look his most impressive and professional. His hands rest near his shredders, which he always carries. He's not sure if he should fan out a bit, or stay at a close distance by Andalite terms to his Prince. He decides to stay near, and await further orders.
-
Okaru walked after the Andalite.
Once he took a step out of the door of the bar, he moved with such spped that to the untrained eye, he seemingly vanished to appear on a branch opposite the bar.
''Ossanlin! I know you fight by the way of honor. You have to by accepting my challenge. Therefore, as an honorbound warrior to another. I willingly state you may use any one person to accompany you. I have my one, whom will come if I beckon. I admit this to you to prove my honor. I am sorry, now that i have met you, that i accepted this mission. Just from what I have experienced, I know many must look up to you. But I did. So i must see it through.''
-
Claxter was surprised at the Human's speed. He hadn't seen speed like that since he battled Vogefak. His tail stiffened with anticipation. He didn't know what his Prince's answer would be, but he didn't want to think of Efaen being picked over him. Yes she was a Warrior, but he didn't want to stand on the sidelines while she fought.
He had never fought someone with a sword before. He wouldn't be able to block something coming that fast, and deflecting it was debatable. He sized up his options.
Jagill saw the group leave, and the Human just disappeared. That was odd. He got up with his drink and looked outside, noticing the guy in the tree. How did he get up there so fast?
-
Okaru suddenly snapped his fingers and pointed, ''That means no assistance from the dead being. I saw the energy being transfered to you before. And if you think double crossing me, and going back on your word will work, you are mistaken. I will be forced to unleash my most devastating attack, risk taking my own life at doing so, but will be honorbound to end you.''
-
<<Who is this guy? And what dead being is he talking about, sir?>> Claxter asked. He hadn't caught the guy's name, and didn't know Mar was dead.
-
Efaen falls into step beside Claxter, following Ossanlin out of the bar. She has yet to recover Terenia's Dracon Beams - the holster still only contains her communicator, but as far as Efaen is concerned her tail is enough weapon. She holds it in a battle stance, choosing to position herself slightly behind Ossanlin and to the side.
<<This human's conditions are unacceptable>> Efaen says to Ossanlin and Claxter privately, her main eyes finding Okaru in the tree branch while her stalks shift restlessly. <<What right does he have to name the terms of battle?>>
-
Serid's eyes narrow in slight irritation. If his future prince treats him this way, how can expect anything different from his future crew-mates? Of course, he isn't worth as much in a fight as an Andalite with a tail blade, but he is a good shot with his Dracon, and he deserves the honor of protectin Ossanlin as much as the others, especially the strange Efaen.
He follows them mutely with narrowed eyes.
-
<<You have a point, Efaen. It's a bit arrogant for the challenger to also set the rules of engagement.>> Claxter said. He noticed she didn't have a weapon, and he had an extra. <<Take my shredder. You'll be safer from all your enemies that way.>> He handed her a shredder. Of course he also meant terenia, who had already once threatened her with a dracon while she was unarmed.
Jagill was actually happy to hear the Human demand that only one person help Ossanlin. As much as Temrash valued him, Jagill didn't want to fight to the death beside him. Now he had an excuse not to intervene.
-
Al ****ed his head for a second and thought, then grinned. "The Macarena. I know that one. Man, you're making me want to get into old-school Earth culture all over again." With that, the Macarena began to play quietly within the ship, emanating from the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and from all of the 'furniture' that looked as if it'd grown out of the body of the ship. Al started doing a miniature version of the dance and singing along quietly.
"Sure you don't wanna join me?" he asked Jasper and Sapptus as the second verse started and he began repeating the dance, a little bigger this time. "This one's so easy!"
Salem watched Al, mouth agape, not understanding a word of Al's Spanish/English singing, for only a few seconds before rolling his eyes and turning back to Jasper. "I..." he paused for a second as he thought, "should be able to avoid using needles or anything intrusive, if you're willing to wait a couple extra minutes. And for the information I'll be getting on Yeerk physiology from you, I'll find something to make it worth your while. I'm not in the habit of getting something for nothing from my trading partners," he said with a wink. "It's usually turns out better for both of us if you know I'll pay well for anything I get."
"Do... you need anything from me to feel comfortable... 'disengaging,'" he asked, with a little less certainty. "Because I'm ready for this whenever you are."
A series of neon silhouettes on the wall indicated a group stepping out to the front of the bar. Among them was the bright white color Salem had chosen to represent War-Prince Ossanlin. Salem watched with interest as the figure carrying a long metal shaft- that had to be the swordsman that had threatened Ossanlin in the bar- moved with impressive speed, but didn't say anything to Al or Jasper.
-
Ossanlin watches behind him with his stalk eyes, surprised to see Serid stand and join them as well. <<I did not know if you would wish to participate in this Serid and did not wish to force you into a compromising situation...I will not deny you the chance to do so and welcome your support, but you should feel no shame or dishonor should you wish to remain within the bar...I will not hold it against you. The choice lies with you.>>
Ossanlin looks at Mar, and then Claxter and Efaen. <<He will not name the conditions of battle. I have made no agreements with him an whatever he believes of his honor, he is still a mercenary. I would ask you both Efaen and Claxter, to stand back a bit from myself. He is too fast for Shredders from what I have seen. I will need to use blades and I need considerable space to wield all three successfully. I only wish for you to interfere if my life appears to be in danger...I do not want him to have reason to injure either of you unless absolutely necessary. Mar, I may require an energy transfer...in fact I think it likely. I will only ascend if I must, but considering what transpired earlier, I believe it may be necessary.>>
Ossanlin then calls in open thought-speech. <You have no right to name the terms of this fight Okaru. I agreed to nothing and have not given my word on anything but telling you where to find Ossanlin. You have come to kill me in exchange for money, or so I assume. This is not an honorable battle, it is attempted murder for hire. I will be assisted by as many as I so desire. I will not chase you or hunt you, you came to hunt me. If you want my life, you will have to take it.> Ossanlin allows his hands to rest on the tsuka of his katana.
-
Reaching slowly behind himself, Okaru drew forth his hidden Zetai. A Zetai is a blade made of alien metal, capable of absorbing energy shots and distributing them individually in blasts. It resembled a traditional style Katana. The major downside to the weapon was if it absorbed enough energy and did not fire it off, it would cause an event similar to a concussion blast.
Keeping both blades at the ready Okaru called, ''True I hunt you. But I do so honorably. I came to you, admitted that I lied to find you, saw you were with friends and did not kill you before you could do anything. I gave you the chance to get yourself ready. My rules of engagement simply make it safer for myself, simply put, because you obviously outnumber me. And regardless of the fact that I have not unleashed my full speed, or power, I would preffer an honorable fight. Is there a specific ritual you request I perform upon your death? Any last rights?''
I am the Battousai! I will end this! Okaru thought to himself.
-
Ossanlin shakes his head a bit at the arrogance displayed by the human. <The manner in which you approached me does not change the reason that you hunt me does it? For that matter, you needed to confirm your kill...how could you have done so without absolutely ascertaining my identity? You have agreed to kill a sentient being in order to further yourself, for your own benefit. Why should I not use every advantage I have at hand against a would-be assassin? I would be a fool not to draw upon all of my resources.>
Ossanlin slides his hands down to the tops of his saiya, using his thumbs to 'pop' the swords free of the saiyas' grip, crossing his hands in front of himself again, ready to draw blades. <You seem to think that I will die like a gornak pup without it's mother. If this is the case, your employer should've given you some better intelligence.> He eases his deflective, light-charged katana a bit further.
-
Turning so slightly it wouldnt be noticed again, to the eyes of an unseasoned warrior. He was now in the start of a very devastating attack, known as the Kai Tro Zitza ((ka tru zeetza)). It earned the title through the movements that align the chi points, Ka, Tro and Zhe, 3 of the more powerful points on the body. All being located in the arm save for Zhe, which is near the heart. When connected, Okaru would find his arms severely faster and stronger.
-
Efaen accepts the shredder from Claxter and slips it into her holster. It doesn't fit perfectly, as the holster is designed for Dracon Beams, but it will work well enough. She sends Claxter a silent look of gratitude before tuning in on what her Prince is saying.
<<Yes, Prince Ossanlin,>> Efaen says, backing up a few paces to allow the Andalite room. Despite the serious situation, she feels a prickling of curiosity. She has known of the Andalite's strange powers, but she has never seen them performed before. It is an opportunity that she is almost grateful for, despite the circumstances.
Her main eyes never waver from the mercenary, and she wonders why Prince Ossanlin would find a mere human - albeit, a fast one - to be such a large threat.
-
Claxter also backed off a bit. He held his main eyes steady on the mercenary while scanning the area from the friend that the mercenary mentioned earlier. Was what he said about not yet showing his true power a bluff? Who knew? Claxter felt this was out of his league, but he would not run.
"Why this have to happen now?" Jagill asked no one in particular. A powerful Human threatening the Andalites, and he didn't have Temrash to make a decision for him. He didn't want to get between the Andalites and the Human, but he also didn't want to go back to his seat. He just kept watching from the doorway. He noticed his hand was on his dracon. Was this Human starting to make him nervous?
-
"Um... no, I'm fine." Sapttus said, on Jasper's behalf. <<No way are you doing that.>> <<I know, I know... I'd just look like a moron. He looks like he's having a blast...>> Then, they realized the music coming from the ship. "...How... did you do that?" Jasper said, gesturing at the ship, perplexed. It was as if the ship had simply decided that now was an appropriate time for the Macarena. Now, they'd seen some intelligent computer systems before, but nothing like that. The fact that the ship was apparently listening to them, and understanding them, was more than just a little weird for Jasper and Sapttus both.
Sapttus decided to not worry about that for the moment, and faced Salem. "No, I'll be fine. I really appreciate your offer. Honestly, I can't think of anything else in the world I care for right now more than getting a cure."
<<Yeah... but some peanut butter would be nice too, wouldn't it?>>
<<You're right... I wonder what the chances of them having that at this bar would be.>>
<<Well, you know what I'd ask for, after getting you all fixed up of course... >>
<<You want to play with all his toys on the shelves, don't you?>>
<<Yeah I do! Seriously! You know that antique shop down the street from Subway? Pfft, big deal. This guy's stuff is way cooler.>>
-
Tieing his newest blade to his belt, he slowly relaxed then closed his eyes as he took in a slow deep breath.
He then turned and looked at the massive tree he was located on...then with even further speed then before, he seemed to have his arm appear completely extended wielding his blade, almost as if it made a cut...
Then suddenly the portion of the tree suddenly slid backward to float down as splinters. This was not meant as a display of power or anything such, he simply wanted a better point of view.
Stepping up onto the new platform he called, ''Ossanlin, I accepted this job without any real knowledge of you. Now I will have to watch a being i know would have my respect otherwise, be killed by my blade. For this I do apologize. Sincerely. Furthermore I wish you luck. May you find your way to the otherside without harm, and if not you then I pray you show my body respect by burying it next to the place we first met. That clearly will be the spot where my life would have been sealed...
Lets begin...''
-
Al stopped his dance, also stopping the music, and tapped his skull with his finger, grinning, "I've got it easy. My mind is directly linked to the ship. Both the ship and my current body are that way by design. He's got it tougher," he said, nodding towards Salem. "He's got to actually think commands at the ship."
Salem sighed looked at Al. "Don't you have stuff to send to Temrash?" he asked in a slightly exasperated tone.
"Oh yeah!" Al exclaimed. He bounded excitedly, his movements melodramatically exaggerated, over to his chair in the middle of the floor and began typing on the keypad on the armrest, so that the record of the Skimmer's transmission to Ossanlin transmitted to Temrash's computer.
Salem rolled his eyes yet again and turned back to Jasper, "Sorry about him. He's Furka. You should see him when he really gets going."
He tilted his head, "So, do you two physically separate when you do this? It'll be a lot easier on me if you do. What's a Yeerk made of? How long can you be alive outside of a host? Is a Yeerk visible when not in a host?" he stopped himself. He figured the questions would all be answered when Sapptus and Jasper actually 'disengaged.'
He cleared his throat, took a breath to calm himself, stood up straighter, and nodded at Jasper. "Whenever you're ready."
-
You could tell by Claxter's face that seeing him cut down that tree scared him, but he didn't move. He wouldn't allow himself to retreat without orders. How could Humans from other dimensions be so different from the ones he was used to? If his version's Yeerks tried to invade some of these Earths, they would be annihilated in open warfare.
Jagill was impressed with the Human's display, and frankly wished Thor or Parker was back. Temrash got a signal from his computer, and started looking over the message between Corliss and Ossanlin. Why was he not surprised that Terenia was still after Efaen, even though she apparently gave her up "willingly"? Not that he could do much about it, aside from just shooting her. Supposedly Reven had approved of her, though he probably didn't know about her gallivanting around in Mike unsupervised.
-
Efaen raises her brows impassively at the human's seemingly unecessary display of brute strength. Clearly he came from a society where the warrior was valued as little more than a bludgeon. The fact that he was a mercenary did not help her opinion. She casually rested one hand on the Shredder Claxter had provided, but otherwise did not move.
Terenia broadens her thought-speak to include Illim, assuming that he is close enough to hear.
<<Are you seeing anything?>> she asks irritably, hating the fact that she is helpless. <<What's going on?>>
-
Serid's eyebrows draw downward as Ossanlin gives him an option for an honorable discharge, but it only wounds his pride further, so he follows Claxter and Efaen without a word. Like Efaen, the human's show of strength does not impress him, but it does surprise him. He mutely checks that his Dracon is clear in its holster, for as little good as it might do him.
Illim makes a full circuit around the ship, but no culprit is to be found. <<Well, I'm not quite sure what her path has been, but I'm certain it's a weird one,>> he tells his host. He is about to say more when Terenia's thought-speech interrupts him.
Rounding the ship and arriving at the open hatch, he walks up the ramp. "I didn't find anything," he announces. "Sorry."
-
<<Well look harder,>> Terenia snarls. <<If someone is tapped into this ship we might not be able to get to the rebellion easily.>>
-
<<How can someone so needy be so abrasive?>> Derrel asked. <<The trip to our new home is probably going to suck, especially since she has telepathy.>>
-
We watched with Claxter as the humanoid reduced a tree to a stump with a sword. Quite a pitiful display. Any Alvie unit with a modest blade could have done this .09 seconds faster than he had. He seemed to threaten the Andalite Claxter and Efaen had referred to as Ossanlin.
We watched to see what would happen. It felt strange. My body had been the associate of the father of this Andalite youth, and until recently had been a spokes-person for the awe-inspiring Alvie Unimatrix. Now, we waited for some signal from the Andalite. If he felt the need to help this acquaintance of his, we decided we would assist.
We finished regenerating our SION weapon, injected ourselves with hyperadrenaline, and covertly reset our Quantryon beam to level 5, enough to vaporize a small asteroid or unshielded starship. Upon a second processing, we reset it to level 2, enough, usually, to stun a large or unusually powerful life-form.
-
Mar follows Ossanlin outside, readying himself for any possible energy transfer. Okaru was right about one thing: he was not alive, and therefore too strong an energy drain would cause his mortal shade to collapse and die. But to assume that this would "kill" Mar was an unbelievably foolhardy thing to say. Could not the swordsman see the entity behind Mar as he said? "Entity behind Mar." ...he had changed.
Mar nods toward Ossanlin and mutters, <...I am prepared if you need my assistance. This will end now. We have more warning than we did with the previous outbreaks. Be careful with my energy, however: you may not like the taste of it.>
-
Ossanlin shakes his head as he nods at Mar. <One does what one must in war and in battle. One of the first lessons during active duty, and a hard one learned.> Ossanlin finishes drawing both of his katana, Shredders left unattended at his utility harness. He holds the blades at ease at his sides. gracefully curved blades arching down and then away from the ground, laser-sharpened edges facing downward. He does not ascend...a small part of him hopes it won't be necessary...though he suspects otherwise.
-
Okaru hurled his Zetai at the Andalite, then tapped into his full speed. Moving so fast he seemed to stand still for a moment before slowly fading away.
-
Jasper was totally and utterly confused, perhaps even shocked, by what Al said. He didn't get to say anything, because Sapttus was taking his 'turn' with their voice.
"I'll uh.. just show you." Sapttus said, ignoring Jasper's confusion. He'd be able to express himself freely momentarily. <<I'll be back soon.>> He said casually, though he felt odd about it. With that, he pulled himself out of the familiar cracks and crevices of Jasper's brain, and pushed himself out through the ear canal, using liberal amounts of the anesthetic excretion while he did so. ((...they have something like that, right?)) He didn't even worry about the fall, because he knew that Jasper's hand was there ready for him. As he's expected, he soon found himself blind and vulnerable in his buddy's palm. It was... creepy, being all alone.
As soon as he had control of his voice again, Jasper had to shoot off a couple questions. "Now wait just a minute. Say what now? You're like... I don't get it. You're ..." He felt like such a nerd having mentally compared him to a robot or droid off of sci-fi shows. "... an android, or what? Sorry if I sound like an idiot... which I'm sure I do, but... this place is too weird for me." He suddenly realized he might be insulting Al, and tried to recover for that. "Not that there's anything wrong with that!" he blurted. "I'm just... It's fine if you are, but I..." He blushed, feeling like a fool. He just didn't understand, that was all. The idea of talking with an android, and an obviously highly-advanced one if so, was way too cool for him. But maybe he was being a moron for thinking that might be the case, and thus, he simply felt embarrassed. Now that he'd stopped talking, he became aware of the solitude in his head. "Oh, um... this is Sapttus."
-
((Yep, Yeerks totally have... anesthetic or whatever that they squirt ^_^))
Salem watched intently as Sapptus wriggled out of Jasper's ear. Once the Yeerk was in Jasper's hand, Salem's heart skipped a beat. He recognized that sluglike form...
"That's a Yeerk?" he asked. "Ah..." He quickly seemed to shake himself off and began pulling bits of equipment from drawers on the wall. As he did, he asked, "So... how does he communicate in his natural form?"
Al glanced over at Salem, stood up, and smiled at Jasper. He laughed, "I'm sorry if I'm being rude. No, I'm not human. Take a deep breath and get ready here," he said, smiling warmly. "This might not be something you've seen before." With that, he slowly dropped his hologram, so that his image faded from his smiling face to the grinning form of a Chee robot. "This is my favorite body these days. I guess if you have to know what I really am... I'm an AI. A robot, I guess is what I'd be in this form."
-
Ossanlin whips his right-hand katana in a close circle in front of him, casually knocking the thrown blade just enough off track that he feels a slight breeze as the weapon breezes past his shoulder and head. He follows the very quick human with his stalk-eyes...tracking more of an after-image of his energy than anything else, using that knowledge to then estimate his position. There would be a bit of lag, but Ossanlin feels he can counter it with instinct if nothing else. He remains perfectly calm and still, all three blades at the ready. The thrown sword had most-likely been meant as a distraction, unfortunately for the human, Ossanlin can watch more than a single place at once.
-
We remained stagnant as we waited for Claxter to make his position clear.
We were behind Ossanlin when the Humanoid threw his blade. Ossanlin displaced the blade from it's assumed trajectory, but in doing so had knocked it into our path.
We swung our mechanical tail 2 times faster than a normal Andalite, caught the blade with our own and pushed it to the ground. This all occurred within a 0.45 second interval.
Using mathematical equations, interphasic scanning, and our passive sensors, we were able to keep a live image of the Humanoid. We noted Ossanlin's focus.
<<Claxter's Prince Ossanlin, your gaze is 1.47 inches behind the Humanoid's actual position.>>
-
Okaru kept in constant motion, pushing himself. His full power had one massive upside.
If i use my speed enough till I have unlocked my second level, I will be fine for sure...Okaru thought to himself as he landed atop the bar.
Then as a sort of tease, Okaru dropped and began to swing multiple kicks at Ossanlin's head. But he would stop as soon as it was close enough to his head before vanishing.
So it would almost seem to random bystanders, that 30 okaru's began to swing and kick at Ossanlin before one by one they slowly vanished from sight and Okaru jumped away again.
Why do I try to intimidate this being? Okaru thought midflight.
-
Claxter wasn't sure what was going on. The Human vanished, then his sword was planted into the ground, then there were dozens of them all around Ossanlin. Was it holograms? Surely no being could keep up a speed that fast for more than a few seconds, unless it was a robot. <<Are we dealing with an android here?>> He asked his allies privately? He drew his weapons, but he didn't know where to shoot.
-
<<A hologram seems likely,>> Efaen says, coming to a similar conclusion. <<Our foe appears to be projecting illusions of himself in various threatening positions.>> She notices Claxter pull his Shredder, <<Stand down, you may injure Prince Ossanlin on accident. He told us not to involve ourselves unless absolutely necessary. I believe our Prince is more than capable of eliminating this creature.>>
-
Ossanlin watches impassively as Okaru seems more intent upon trying to show off his moves instead of actually doing any damage. His ony reaction to the human's shadow image kicks are to raise his twin katana into a semi-defensive position around his upper body, still remaining stoic and silent, a statue amidst all the showy flurries of movement.
He doesn't recognize the somewhat monotone voice in his head...he is too distracted to look at who or whatever had spoken, but every little bit of information would help.
-
Claxter didn't want to put his shredder away, but Efaen was right that his Prince said only act if he really needed it. Unfortunately if this guy was really as fast as he seemed it could be over before they get a chance to intervene. He lowered his shredder, but didn't holster it.
-
Flipping through the air, to slam to a halt on the side of a tree, Okaru craned his neck as he drew his blade free and launches through the air at Ossanlin swinging his blade down in a trully powerful swing. Using all of his momentum, he hoped it would end before it started.
-
"Still nothing here," Corliss reports to Illim and Terenia, frowning at the screens. "Just that tiny downward spike in energy, system diagnostics can't figure a reason for it."
He looks over at Illim. "Look, I know what Salem's ship looks like, and if this wasn't Efaen's work then I'm willing to bet he had something to do with it. I'm going to find him. Terenia, did you hear that?"
-
Ossanlin raises both katana above his head as Okaru descends, moving his blades to intercept Okaru's own. He pushes off to his right side with a heave of andalite strength as he steps to the left, not trying to stop Okaru's movement, but only to redirect it slightly as he steps out of the way.
-
With a grin Okaru smiled and grabbed his other blade as he continued his flight.
Rolling to a crouch he stood and turned to look at Ossanlin over the 10 foot gap. Then again seemed to vanish.
He hoped his energy would sustain him easily enough to tap into his ascended level. He had never tried to get something over so quickly so the risk may be to great...and he new it.
Flipping and arranging himself properly, he flew past the few stragglers near the door, a android or cyborg of some type catching his eye for a tenth of a second.
Landing inside the bar he spun and hoped moving as fast as he did, that he had been unnoticed. That would allow him a few seconds of breathing time.
Being show offy was one of my major flaws, he thought to himself with a sigh.
-
((Your characters grin quite often...it's starting to creep me out. Rofl))
We kept our calculations fresh and our interphasic scanner on omnidirectional. We noted Claxter raising his shredder, and we reached for our Quantryon beam and raised our SION weapon.
-
((Yep, Yeerks totally have... anesthetic or whatever that they squirt ^_^))
Salem watched intently as Sapptus wriggled out of Jasper's ear. Once the Yeerk was in Jasper's hand, Salem's heart skipped a beat. He recognized that sluglike form...
"That's a Yeerk?" he asked. "Ah..." He quickly seemed to shake himself off and began pulling bits of equipment from drawers on the wall. As he did, he asked, "So... how does he communicate in his natural form?"
Al glanced over at Salem, stood up, and smiled at Jasper. He laughed, "I'm sorry if I'm being rude. No, I'm not human. Take a deep breath and get ready here," he said, smiling warmly. "This might not be something you've seen before." With that, he slowly dropped his hologram, so that his image faded from his smiling face to the grinning form of a Chee robot. "This is my favorite body these days. I guess if you have to know what I really am... I'm an AI. A robot, I guess is what I'd be in this form."
"He uh... doesn't, really. He tells me that Yeerks can kinda click at each other when they're in their pools, but... other than that, he's basically a slug. No offense, buddy." He says, as if forgetting that he was deaf as well as mute. He then looks back at Al, who's telling him to take a deep breath. "Why -" He begins, before letting his jaw kinda fall. He stammered for a bit, trying to figure out something semi-intelligent to say. But eventually he simply settled for "Oh... wow....." He couldn't believe it. All his geeky dreams were coming true. Not only was this a robot, but an actual AI... one that had fooled him into thinking him human. It made sense for Al to not define himself as the physical hardware that he currently operated, but rather, as the programming that operated it. Not that he was typically fluent, anyways, but this was just way too cool for him to think of anything to say.
-
<Yeah, I heard,> Terenia snaps, sounding irritated. <You're going to go off and leave me here to fend for myself. Do me a favor and actually close the hatch this time around, alright? I don't want that dapsen traipsing in here while I'm helpless.>
-
Illim walks towards the screens and gives them a cursory sweep of his eyes. "I could protect Terenia and the ship. Or cover you, Corliss, if you'd rather me stay away from her. I mean, I know you don't really know me." He gives an awkward shrug and sighs. "Look, I'm happy to do whatever you ask."
-
Salem watched Jasper's reaction to Al's form and smiled, shaking his head ever so slightly. He and Al had often had disagreements about how public they should make information such as Al's true form- Salem was usually uncomfortable revealing anything more about themselves than was necessary- but he still enjoyed seeing the reactions to Al's revelation.
Salem nodded silently at Jasper's answer. Swallowing a lump that kept threatening to block his throat, he began scanning the Yeerk in Jasper's hand with a rod attached by a cable to a small pack that he'd stuck in his pocket.
"So he's primarily aquatic, right?" Salem asked. "Do... Yeerk populations usually outnumber host populations in Yeerk environments?" He finished his scan and stuck the rest of the device in his pocket, then walked over to the raised 'workbench' and cleared an area. "Would you mind setting him down for a minute? I need to get a couple of scans without you in them."
Al, in the meantime, ****ed his robotic head curiously as he looked at Sapptus, then caused some sort of alien song with a strong, fast bass beat to begin emanating softly from within the ship, figuring Saptus might enjoy it. He earned a slight glare from Salem, but ignored it and began doing 'the robot' without turning his hologram back on.
-
Both Claxter and Jagill lost track of Okaru, and looked around for him. Jagill was right beside the door, but if he felt Okaru move past him he'd just think it was wind. He didn't look behind him into the room.
<<He probably doesn't want us hanging around inside his ship, and I don't want to lend Terenia my body.>> Derrel said. He didn't want to be controlled by someone as high strung as she was.
-
"Yeah, that's right. On their Homeworld, there wasn't any where near enough for all of them. Then again, I guess there wouldn't have been as many Yeerks then as there are now." Jasper was beginning to think he should be careful what he said. Sapttus had seemed to think that holding on to information was the way to go for now, especially while dealing with Salem. He felt nervous about setting him down, but wanted to comply anyways. He went over to the counter space he'd cleared. "Is it uh.. clean?" He felt like it would be rude to just drop his friend down on dust and stuff, considering that Yeerks absorbed things through their skin. Jasper flinched at the sudden upstart of 'music' - really, he just figured it was radio static or something to that effect - but tried not to overreact to it. If Al had decided to dance to it, it probably wasn't a self-destruct signal.
Sapttus was vaguely aware of movement. It was nerve wracking. He absolutely despised this part of his species. The grooves and lines in Jasper's somewhat calloused hand were of some comfort to him, allowing him to feel ever-so-slightly 'at home'. He allowed himself to spread out just a little, not like he would over Jasper's brain, but he merely filled into the gaps between his fingers. He focused intently on the salts and oils on his hands... it was the only sensation that he really had to consider at the moment. That was, until the sound started. He could pick up the vibrations, though he really doubted that it was supposed to sound like what he was making out. It was.. rather frightening, actually, but at least it was something else to take his mind off of the nothingness around him. This is what it must have felt like to be buried alive, he thought. Not that he'd ever experienced that of course, but he'd seen enough of human television to be familiar with the concept. Why that was considered entertainment, he wasn't sure. The only good human TV programming he'd ever discovered was that show 'Wheel of Fortune', and maybe one of those hospital shows. He liked the one with the grumpy doctor with the cane. ....
-
The decrepit star ship set down a short ways from the bar. A human walked down the ramp. His name was Jacob Hanson. He was about 5'4", with dark hair and non descript clothes, a jacket, a knit cap, and flexible pants. Over all he was unremarkable, except for maybe the fact the he was well lean and wiry. He walked past the Andalites and others. He caught a flash and traced it, his cybernetics making it possible to pinpoint the location of the being to the inch. He couldn't exactly see him he could just see where the blur was currently.
He dismissed it as a bar room brawl or challenge of some sort. The one combatant was rather fast. He could tell that he was human. Normal vital points. When he walked inside he saw a human standing in the middle of the room that appeared to be resting. Jacob went to the bar and ordered a non-achohlic drink. Jacob preferred to keep his best tool, his enhanced perception, undulled.
-
Salem nodded, "It's clean. I can heat it too, if you'd like. Think he'd be more comfortable if it was around the temperature of your hand?" He was feeling more than a little guilty. If that was a Yeerk, that meant he'd been responsible for... awful things.
He shook his head. He knew being nice to Sapptus wouldn't help to fix anything he'd done in the past, but if it would ease his guilt for the moment. The more he was able to think, the fainter he felt- he hoped it wasn't showing on his face.
He cleared his throat, "So, Yeerks don't leave their hosts often, then. When you two are... together, you're obviously in communication somehow. How does that work? Are you sharing thoughts like you share control?" He stroked the wall, so that a drawer protruded from the smooth surface a few feet from where he was standing. He reached in and grabbed another couple of instruments.
-
"Um.. yeah, sure..." Jasper said. Surely it wouldn't hurt for it to be heated a little, too. Jasper knew that he wasn't exactly a fan of cold metal on skin, and surely Sapttus would agree.
"Well, most Yeerks have to leave every three days or so. The Oatmeal Addiction actually uh... " he hadn't meant to reveal more information, but.. it was too late now. He cleared his throat. "... makes it so that Sapttus doesn't need Kandrona Rays anymore. That's how he can stay for so long. But uh, yeah, we just kinda think to each other. Technically, he's actually reading my thoughts, but he chooses to share his with me. Well, usually."
"And I'm sorry if this is uh.. rude or anything, but... it's just so cool that you're an android. Oh, uh, excuse me, I uh.. I mean an AI." He wasn't exactly sure what kind of etiquette one exercised around artificial beings.
-
Al caused his hologram to flicker a few times as it turned back on, like a fluorescent light bulb, than looked at Jasper and laughed. "Android, AI... it's all the same thing to me. The Plarrid might have preferences, but they're not really either one." He smiled, "And thank you. I think it's pretty cool that you're an organic. Being artificial isn't really all it's cracked up to be. I can't even get properly drunk."
Salem walked back to the 'workbench' with still more gadgets in his hands and pockets. He turned to look at Al with his eyebrows raised, "No, you've got it better. You can turn off your drunkenness if you need to."
Al shook his head, "Yeah, and even when I'm letting myself let myself go, I don't feel it like you do. It's still purely simulated."
Salem sighed and set down some of the stuff he was carrying, muttering something about "Of all the reasons to want to be biological..." He placed his hand on the spot he'd cleared for Sapptus and thought-spoke a few commands to the ship, then turned to Jasper. "You're going to have to bear with me here. What are Kandrona Rays? And when you say every three days... is that Yeerk days? Or... what, Earth days? You're from Earth, right?" He lifted his hand as the spot reached what he judged to be a comfortable temperature- for as long as he'd had this ship, he was still impressed by how well the systems worked. It was definitely nicer than even the Crimson High he'd been using before this one.
"This should be ready for him," he said, indicating the cleared spot.
-
Jasper couldn't help but laugh. He wasn't into drinking, but it was just doggone hilarious that *that* was the main attractor for being 'organic' in Al's mind. "Woo, man, that's funny. There's a lot more to being uh, organic, than getting drunk." He knew there was something, but he was hoping that Al didn't ask him for an example at this very moment. He thought about Salem's question for a second. "Oh, Kandrona Rays are.. they're like sunlight, kinda, I guess, that comes from their sun back on their Homeworld. It has special nutrients and stuff that Yeerks live off of. Normally, they live in pools of this uh, sludgy stuff that absorbs the Kandrona Rays, and they absorb it from that. That's why they leave.. so they can eat. And that's based off of Earth days." Jasper nodded. I .. honestly can't remember how they measure it in Yeerk time. I uh, don't even think they really have a time. They just kinda use whatever time their hosts use, I think. We'll have to ask him once you're done, I guess."
Jasper went ahead and set down Sapttus' two-inch body. It was so weird seeing him like that. An entire person, with personality, opinions, emotions, and everything... he was just so small on his own. He wondered what his Yeerky friend would feel about that thought after coming back...
"Just be careful not to hurt him on accident. Not that... I think you would, but... yeah, I'm just a little paranoid, I guess." He felt odd, again. Who was he to doubt him like that? Surely he'd taken that into account.
-
Al hung his head in faux disappointment, "I know there are a lot of perks to being organic. Is it too much to ask for me to just be able to try it sometime."
It was Salem's turn to laugh, "You know you're crazy, right?"
Al gave a sly smile, "Built and programmed."
Salem rolled his eyes, a smile still on his face, and turned back to Jasper. "I should be able to get all the scans I need without Sapptus feeling a thing." He began setting up a little silver tripod device in the mess of stuff he'd pushed aside to make space for the Yeerk. "So, the Yeerk can't feed on this... Kandrona radiation from within a host? That's interesting. But you said your instant trail meal eliminates his dependency on it, right?" He glanced over at Al, who also seemed intrigued. Al returned his glance with a shrug.
He tapped the top of the device he'd set up, causing it to emit a greenish beam of light, which began sweeping over Sapptus quickly enough that a grid pattern appeared overlaid on him. Salem also grabbed his persona scanner from his pocket, pointed it at Sapptus, and pressed a few buttons, causing it to trill. He stuck it back in his pocket and grabbed two nearly-identical silver, square devices from the pile of gadgets he'd just laid down. He looked back and forth between them for a second before glancing down at Sapptus. He thought better of using the devices, and put them back down, shuddering as he pictured what they might do to the Yeerk if he guessed a few things about his anatomy incorrectly.
He turned to Jasper, still absentmindedly digging through his pile of gadgets. "Do you have any way we could sample some Kandrona Rays? If they're tied into this addiction, it'd help me a lot to get some scans of what they are."
-
Ossanlin follows the trail into the bar with his eyes and sighs. Why did he decide to go into the bar. Ossanlin sighs and closes his eyes, concentrating on gathering his energy. He meditates as he waits for Okaru's next move, relaxing, feeling for the strange human's energy signature.
-
Okaru watched Ossanlin for a moment then sighs, hes saving his time. I have to bring him to me...Okaru thought before wielding both of his blades tightly and side stepping so fast as to seem to fade away slowly.
He brought himself out then around his opponent, then suddenly charged forward swinging his blades intensely, from all angles relentlessly.
-
|THETA-PI|
Were we foolish, or wise to wait for Claxter? If this humanoid terminated this andalite, who posed no special association or relation to us, did it matter?
<<Claxter, what should we do?>>
|OGREON|
A good size ship enters orbit of the asteroid. It's simple, and can be easily described as a teardrop-like shape, bulbous in front and tapering down to a point in the back, with a saucer on the top-front, and two pyramid-like engines on the side. It is a dark-orangey color with dark red engines on the back of the pyramid engines.
In a definite display that the ship is captained by a member of the Alliance, a small red spot begins to glow in the Bar proper. Then, around it, in the shape of the being, a bright red, glowing, twisting energy comes to life. It is populated by small white glowing spots that skim the surface of the energy in circles. The glow dies down, replaced by Ambassador Ogreon, of the Clangst.
He walks up to the nearest patron, many legs working in unison, "Excuse me. I am wondering where I might find Lieutenant Colonel Vogefac. Have you seen him?"
-
<<I have been ordered to wait.>> claxter said. <<I have not always obeyed orders, so it is important to show that I can obey them. I am to wait until he really needs me.>> He tensed up again as Okaru showed himself once more and went in for another attack.
Jagill saw a new alien come up and start asking for a guy named Vogefac. He thought about it, but he wasn't aware of anyone named Vogefac at the bar. He did think he might have seen the guy, and know who vogefac was. "No Vogefac here. Sorry. Food and drink inside, if want." He said as he made room for the guy to enter the building.
-
|THETA-PI|
We processed the information into our calculation matrix, <<Acknowledged.>>
We prepared for Ossanlin to fail. Not that we expected it in any way, just...we prepared.
|OGREON|
Ogreon looked at the Hork-Bajir. For a split moment, he thought it was a Reptilinod. But the Clangst had dealings with the Hork-Bajir race enough to be fooled for only a fraction of a fraction of a second. It was amazing. Besides the blades, the two races really had nothing in common. For one thing, the intelligence of the Hork-Bajir versus the Reptilinod...they were lightyears apart. The reptilinod were carnivores, and used their blades in battle, while the Hork-Bajir were pacifist herbivores. The Reptilinod were yellow, the Hork-Bajir dark green.
Ogreon wondered why he was thinking about that, and nodded to the Hork-Bajir before entering the bar. He saw a few people in there. He walked up to the bartender, "One Chinari Chill please."
Apparently others from his universe had been here before, because the bartender came back a few minutes later with the bright orange drink, served with dry ice. The little mouth on the end of it's trunk smiled in a human fashion. It was quite odd to see.
"Thank you, sir."
The many feet of the Ambassador banged on the floor like a giant centipede as he slurped his drink. He walked over to a window and watched to see if Vogefac was indeed here.
Then he walked over to another patron inside the bar, "Excuse me, have you seen one Lieutenant Colonel Vogefac?"
-
Jacob looked at the alien. "I just got here." He turned back to his mug of steam liquid. He had not ecountered this species before. He had noted the vital points and stored the knowledge away for future reference.
-
|OGREON|
Ogreon's gaze lowered a bit. No one here seemed to be much help.
"So have I. I'm not used to such...shabby establishments. Don't get me wrong, I've done meetings in wrecks before. But none as seemingly old as this. most were simply wrecks of architecture. I am Ambassador Ogreon, of the Clangst. Have you ever heard of the Alliance?", he tried to make conversation.
-
Diteca watched from the shadows of the roof. His ability to become almost one with shadows was a new one for sure. Within the past few days he had found himself seeming to be able to..control shadows? And it almost seemed it was his adapted domain.
He kept his eyes on ground where Okaru suddenly begain to swing his blade with incredible speeds.
''The power behind each of those blows must be immense considering his arm will get denser the nearer to the speed of light he gets..'' He murmured outloud, a strage habit of his.
-
Corliss sighs, watching the spectacle unfold between Ossanlin and Okaru. He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a long moment to think.
"Screw Salem, we can deal with him later. Illim, buckle up," he says. "Computer, close exterior hatch."
The hull melts closed and Corliss straps himself into the nav seat, living metal sinking around his waist and torso.
"Terenia, we're going to help Ossanlin out," he says tersely. "Then we'll deal with the dapsen who hacked into my system."
The Skimmer lifts into the air, rotating towards the bar as it cruises above the tree line.
-
<About time we do something,> Terenia mutters indignantly as she scrunch-thrusts around the cramped pool, frustrated by her lack of senses. <Is Ossanlin okay? Don't let the blue bastard die until after he helps me, alright?>
-
Jerking his eyes up, Diteca spotted a skimmer approaching and tensed. Why would it need to come this direction?
''Better hope its not coming to deal with this..'' He muttered, allowing the nanites in his system that allowed his powers to flush around through his system. His skin began to get thicker, his muscles pumped up, his senses thickened and his mind got sharper.
Keeping his eyes ahead he shrugged to release his tension, allowing himself to become nearly invisible in the shadows.
He may be a new ally but he is an ally...till i dont need him...Diteca thought as he became sure he would help Okaru even without the whistle. I need some money. Without it my own situation gets harder...
-
"I don't know, there's just been a lot of commotion over there since our comm link cut out," Corliss replies, charging the Skimmer's main, twin Dracon cannons. The medium-sized, crouching insectoid shape of the ship retracts its spindly, leg-like landing gears and cruises towards the bar.
"Illim, things might get a little bumpy," he says, tapping at the main holoscreen. "Can you man the weapons? Not on maximum, we just want to threaten him first, not blow the whole bloody place to bits."
-
"Nope." Jacob gulped the last of his drink and swallowed, before turning. "There are a lot of alliances in the universe but I've never heard if one that calls itself THE Alliance." He probably sounded rude but he didn't especially care.
-
Al hung his head in faux disappointment, "I know there are a lot of perks to being organic. Is it too much to ask for me to just be able to try it sometime."
It was Salem's turn to laugh, "You know you're crazy, right?"
Al gave a sly smile, "Built and programmed."
Salem rolled his eyes, a smile still on his face, and turned back to Jasper. "I should be able to get all the scans I need without Sapptus feeling a thing." He began setting up a little silver tripod device in the mess of stuff he'd pushed aside to make space for the Yeerk. "So, the Yeerk can't feed on this... Kandrona radiation from within a host? That's interesting. But you said your instant trail meal eliminates his dependency on it, right?" He glanced over at Al, who also seemed intrigued. Al returned his glance with a shrug.
He tapped the top of the device he'd set up, causing it to emit a greenish beam of light, which began sweeping over Sapptus quickly enough that a grid pattern appeared overlaid on him. Salem also grabbed his persona scanner from his pocket, pointed it at Sapptus, and pressed a few buttons, causing it to trill. He stuck it back in his pocket and grabbed two nearly-identical silver, square devices from the pile of gadgets he'd just laid down. He looked back and forth between them for a second before glancing down at Sapptus. He thought better of using the devices, and put them back down, shuddering as he pictured what they might do to the Yeerk if he guessed a few things about his anatomy incorrectly.
He turned to Jasper, still absentmindedly digging through his pile of gadgets. "Do you have any way we could sample some Kandrona Rays? If they're tied into this addiction, it'd help me a lot to get some scans of what they are."
<<Hey, they sound like us, don't ... oh...>> Jasper said to himself, realizing that Sapttus wasn't there to share with. "Oh, uhm, yeah. It's... they have to come out to feed and stuff. Well, just feed, really... And yeah, that's the thing. The Oatmeal makes it so they don't need Kandrona anymore. But... it also makes them go kinda crazy if they go without it for too long. It's kinda a toss up, really." Jasper watched as Salem worked. The tools he brought out were somewhat fascinating. He saw him pull out the persona scanner, and remembered seeing it in the bar. It made the same high-pitched sound as before, but didn't seem to do anything, really. Not that... medical scanners and things like that really needed to do anything, but... In response to Salem's final question, he said: "I don't know. We didn't bring anything with us, really, though... I guess there might be a chance there's something on our ship that could help with that. I don't know though. It wasn't really important to us since Sapttus doesn't need it like other Yeerks." Jasper realized that he was edging closer to talking about their large stockpile of Oatmeal on the ship. He knew that Sapttus would be trying to steer him away from that conversation. "What is that? I saw you with it before, and now I'm just dying to know what is is. Is it like... an MRI?" Salem had another question, however. Really, Jasper had no idea how to get a Kandrona sample. He doubted their ship had a portable device.He was feeling very inconfident at the moment, especially considering he was sharing about anything and everything that Salem mentioned. That wasn't a smart idea, he was sure. He wished Sapttus was back. He always knew what was right.
Sapttus physically spasmed, though he thought nothing of it. This had become standard in his life. Fortunately for Jasper, human brains don't have any nerve endings, so he was unable to feel his constant twitching and shifting in his cranial cavity. During the process, his mind had wandered farther into the doctor shows he's seen during his time with Jasper. This was just like one of those shows. He was the patient with the weird disease, and the crazy doctors with the love triangles would try to figure out what was wrong, until some random person made some random comment about rice cereal or something, and the doctors finally figured it out for real. Those poor random people.. so important to the plot, but get so little credit. Oh, if only the patients could know who it was who'd really saved their lives. Then things would be right in the world. All he needed was someone to say something totally irrelevant to anything, and his addiction would be cured. There were lots of people on this rock heap, surely one of them was enough of a moron to help him out.
He stopped to think about this all for a moment....
I hate those sunglasses, he concluded.
-
|OGREON|
Ogreon laughed, "It's the only Alliance in our universe. Plus it's easier to say "The Alliance" than "the Universal Alliance Influence." Doesn't flow as well."
He sipped the drink, the fizzy bubbles passing up his long trunk and down his throat felt good.
"So what's your story?", He said, looking at the guy.
-
Jacob didn't like how friendly this alien was being. That usually meant that he wanted something. "That's privileged information. What do you want anyways?" He asked in his gruff voice.
-
Jagill noticed the Skimmer coming. Perhaps Corliss was coming to shoot at Okaru. He was not friends with Temrash anymore, so he wasn't friends with Jagill either. Ossanlin didn't ask Corliss to help as far as he knew, but if he was going to he would need a ship. He decided to climb onto the roof to get a better vantage, and to avoid any blasts being shot at the ground. He didn't take a real good look around the roof, so he didn't consciously notice anyone else up there.
-
Ossanlin fends off Okaru's attacks but falls a bit further behind with each parry, he takes small, shallow nicks on his forearms and shoulders as the blades begin to connect oh so slightly. He spots the Skimmer coming in...it seems like everyone is watching. He can tell that he's losing ground against the human's speed...it wouldn't be long before he took an injury deeper than a mere skin wound.
'very well' Ossanlin thought to himself as he drew his entire aura within his own body. Time seems almost to freeze for a moment as Ossanlin's blue fur erupts into a sea of silver. The transformation is nearly instantaneous as his fur becomes bright silver, his hooves changing colors as well. His eyes grow lighter and brighter blue, glowing with an internal light, and his wicked tail-blade takes on a platinum sheen.
Immediately Ossanlin dilates time around himself. It would appear to others, including his opponent, as if he had become a blur to match Okaru, but in truth it was merely the effect of time and Ossanlin was not exerting himself any further.
<You leave me no choice human.>
-
Okaru felt himself slowed down somehow, ''Lets see what you got!'' He responded as he roared out and tapped into the fullest speed he could reach at that moment.
Running full speed forward, he slid into a full powered swing, hoping the carried momentum would help.
-
Ossanlin steps out of the way of Okaru's blade with plenty of time to spare, for all appearances seeming to have all the time in the world, aside from the serious look on his face. Maintaining this form was difficult without significant recovery time between stints. Ossanlin had not been fully-rested, but can only hope that Mar will back him up with a stream of raw energy. Without it, he estimates he will fall unconscious most-likely within five to ten standard minutes. Of course the fight could be over much sooner...perhaps.
Ossanlin crosses his dual katana in front of his body and swings them violently down to his sides, marks rending the ground below his katana as if massive swords had come down and rent the earth, though his blades had not made physical contact with the ground. The swords glow white as energy suffuses them, and they lengthen somewhat. <The tip of the iceberg, my friend. You can still give up this charade...> His thoughts seem to be more...potent...they are still thought-speech yes...but they seem to echo or reverberate a bit, very loud in the mind's ear.
-
((*gasp* ~ Ossanlin can manipulate time and space...like a fushigi!))
|THETA-PI|
The humanoids speed lowered slightly. We sensed ourselves slowing internally, also externally. We read a time dilation emitting from the now seemingly metallic Andalite.
Pure Metal alloy., we passed among the now one person of the bar's Alvie collective, Would be a great achievement if it were as flexible as the nominal epidermis.
We ran a few calculations in our processors, trying to ascertain the possibility of leaving a metal at melting point on the joints of a structure, similar to the wrinkles and folds of extra skin on organic joints, and the rest a solid structure....
The melting point of Scutite is 5,976.1º Celsius...the melting point of Vissium is 6,807.8º Celsius...the Melting point of Cogomium is 115,091º Celsius...no aplicable metal could be efficiently used.
We watched the battle between Okaru and Ossanlin with some interest. Okaru had just been slowed by Okaru. Now they were almost on even footing. As we say that, we refer to Ossanlin having the edge – to out processors.
|OGREON
He shrugged, a gesture he had picked up from humans. It was hard for a non-brachiating species, but Ogreon had learned.
"Alright. Confidential. Classified. I deal with classified matters all the time. And by that I mean, I get blocked out of information often."
Then the man asked what he wanted, "Nothing! Nothing at all! If you happen to know, I would like the location of Lieutenant Colonel Vogefac, but you already told me you don't. I was merely trying to...kill time. I was expected to find Vogefac and advise him of a situation on Earth, but I'm not going back until I find him.", he nodded short and hard, as if the being really cared.
The creature, actually quite similar to a Taxxon in some respects, looked around to see who else might know of Vogefac's location.
-
Claxter was awestruck. What had his Prince come across that made him so powerful? His voice was loud in claxter's head, but he didn't flinch. He was just too focused on the blurred space where Ossanlin and Okaru fought.
Jagill was a bit nervous about what he was seeing. No andalite was supposed to be able to do these things. was Ossanlin not an Andalite? He was different. Being different to a Hork-Bajir was a big thing, and to see an Andalite that was so much more than a normal Andalite made him unsure of how to even look at the Prince now. He shook his head a bit at the sound of his voice. It was like he talked out of a loudspeaker that was tuned up too high.
-
Mar watches the fight carefully, and then suddenly feels a shudder echo through his own body as Ossanlin converts into his ascended form. Mar realizes that Ossanlin can't hold this for long---the best chance Ossanlin has is if Mar and the other Bar members back him up. With this in mind, Mar abruptly sits down in the dirt. This will soil his clothes, but that's hardly a concern.
Mar closes his eyes, causing (to anyone who could see him close up) the lines running through his gauntlet hand to light up light purple. Mar is aware that what he is going to do will be distasteful to Ossanlin, and dangerous for his health. But if Mar attempted to send his own energy to Ossanlin while the Andalite is ascended, the results would be disastrous. Mar therefore forwards the energy of those collected in the gauntlet toward the War-Prince. Mar smirks at the pain echoing through his own mind, but winces at the transfer. To do such a thing is mad. Mortality has driven him to pass on his own sustenance and possibly compromise his status. Yet still...it would be...empty without the War-Prince.
-
Okaru struggled roughly to try to get his speed back, pushing himself to give it his everything! And he was!
Soon his energy began to slowly rise, and he felt himself speeding up slightly more. This is a time control though, how do I get out of his range?
He pushed hard away from Ossanlin and let out a harsh shrill whistle that echoed off the surrounding area...
...and suddenly a massive 15 foot wide boulder came flying towards the Andalite from the opposite side of the bar, as Okaru continued running to get away.
This new guy was serious...hmm well I could definitely use some muscle like that! Okaru thought as he kept pushing himself to his limit to break free.
-
Ossanlin feels a flow of energy stemming from Mar. He hisses mentally at the influx of unprocessed energy...undoutedly drawn from living beings. He cranes his head back before looking forward again, opening his eyes, the glow in them now a much deeper purple color as Mar's "food" boosts him. He rides the raw energy wave as if balancing on a precipice...he fights with Mar's energy, forcing it to bend to his will...he feels as if he lets go, the energy may devour him whole.
<This is....darkness.> Ossanlin glances at Mar, now drawing the energy actively. He follows Okaru with his stalk eyes. <Are you giving up human? You can leave now if you wish, I will not pursue you. If you insist upon continuing this, I will stop holding back.>
-
Okaru grunted, ''Its time..'' He muttered before he suddenly began to pour everything he had into the fire.
His body slowly began to vibrate, gaining in intensity as he continued to focus. Soon his whole body was vibrating so hard that his molecules were spread enough to make him appear transparent.
Come on! Come on! I can do this! He yelled at himself mentally. This was not his first ascension but it is no easier.
Suddenly Okaru let off a blinding light, and when it faded his entire body had become a pure white being. Litterally. His hair, everything was changed to a pure blinding white. The only acception being his now a bright glowing emerald.
''Much better. Now..lets see if you can hold me!'' He called to Ossanlin and vanished from sight just like before, save he appeared behind Ossanlin with his blade swinging faster then ever, filled with an animalistic ferocity.
-
Ossanlin watched as the human became something more. He hadn't known that any humans possessed abilities beyond their species...but then he himself was walking proof that strange things could happen.
Ossanlin barely has time for a thought as Okaru nearly vanishes, he whips his tail around as the human materializes behind him, somehow penetrating his time dilation. Was he moving at the speed of light? That might allow him to rise above time indeed. Ossanlin barely parries blows meant for his body, no doubt in his mind that had his tail-blade been natural bone it would've been sheared off. Ossanlin twists around lightning fast, though not as fast as the human was moving as he took a gash to his left shoulder. He would have to morph that off...eventually. The arm would be useless until the injury was gone if he hadn't access to the vast pool of energy that Mar was feeding him.
Ossanlin draws more deeply upon Mar's energy, afraid of taxing the being but knowing that Mar's precious mortal incarnation might cease to exist if the human won this battle. He uses the energy to mend the wound temporarily, the gash becoming a slash of glowing purple-blue energy. He raises his katana, parrying blow after blow, and then launches a mental assault. Telepathically he flings images of discord and disarray at the human. Such distractions could cause a normal human to writhe on the ground from the assault...he did not know if this particular human could erect the proper barriers. Even if he could, it would be a drain on the human's resources to do so.
Ossanlin moves into an offensive barrage, stepping forward into the flurry of steel, launching counter-attacks, pushing forward. Each time his blade meets the human's, a wave of energy erupts, something like a miniature shockwave. He's using more energy than he had even against the demon of decay. Any normal sword would've flown apart by now, cleaved multiple times by Ossanlin's molecule-sharp, energy-charged katana, but this one was standing up to the barrage. <Impressive human, but I'm afraid it's not good enough.>
Ossanlin steps temporarily into the timestream, vanishing completely from the current realm of existance. At the same instant he ceases to exist, he steps back into the current stream of reality directly behind the human, appearing to materialize instantaneously. He then launches a flurry of attacks at the human's back, still continuing his mental assault as well.
-
Salem nodded in response to Jasper's comments about the dependency being a 'toss-up' - from the sound of things, he thought he agreed. It was one dependency or the other. Granted, he didn't know much about the situation- he'd have to start doing some pretty intensive research into Yeerks in order to even have a chance of getting these two what they wanted. Still, the knowledge he gained would no doubt be useful in more ways than one- that was the main reason he traded in technologies and information. With goods, you could run out, but knowledge kept on giving.
Salem happened to glance over at the wall of the craft- the neon shapes representing Ossanlin and the swordsman were moving around each other with incredible speed. The ship was still able to track them, displaying their changing positions as bright trails, but he'd never seen beings moving that fast- he was sure he'd be unable to keep up in person. It looked as though they were fighting, though at those speeds, who could tell.
"Al, can you keep an eye on that for me?" Salem asked, nodding towards the wall. "See if you can figure out what's going on?"
Al glanced over at the display and his eyes grew wide. "I... sure..." he replied, ****ing his head at the scene and ordering the ship's computer to run some analyses of the information it'd already recorded on the scene.
Salem turned back to Jasper and said, "If you don't have Kandrona sources, I'll have to find someone who does. If most Yeerks are dependent on them, they ought to be common on this rock. Would he know for sure if you guys are carrying something like that?" he asked, nodding down at Sapptus.
Salem pulled his persona scanner back out of his pocket when Jasper asked about it. "This? I... actually don't really know what it's called. Or how it works. I've been calling it a Persona Scanner. It images a being's emotional, mental, and spiritual auras and outputs a bunch of information based on that. It also gives me a surprisingly detailed physiological readout of whatever, so maybe it can help me out with this instant problem of yours." Now that he was thinking about it, he went ahead and clicked it at Jasper again as well. "Just so I know if I can separate the Yeerk image from the host without having to physically separate them," he explained with a shrug as he re-pocketed the device. He pulled another gadget from the pile he'd made. This one looked somewhat like a miniaturized swing set without the swings. He glanced at Sapptus before turning to Jasper and asking, "Will he be okay under ultrasonic imaging?"
When Sapptus spasmed, Salem's heart jumped. He began looking at his instruments and going through his readouts to see if anything was going wrong. "Is he okay?" he asked Jasper worriedly.
-
Okaru watched as Ossanlin took a blow to his shoulder, but continued to attack back.
Then for only a second, he dropped to his knees. Ossanlin was sending a telepathic attack on his mind.
Quickly focusing hard, he jutted up mental barriers. With his limited energy, he could only use enough to keep the attack from incapacitating him.
But instantly he was back up launching attack after attack. Sometimes so many as 10 full powered attacks, per second!
But then suddenly Ossanlin vanished, seeming to instantly appear behind Okaru!
Turning in a full powered onslaught, Okaru denied himself the urge to acknowledge the pain, as he found himself with 2 massive gashes. One on his chest, the other being on his right tricep. The latter being deep enough to make the arm unuseable if he didnt get treatment quickly.
He continued on with his attacks, but then launched forward roaring out, ''Kage No Zetsa!''
The attack was a powerful attack, but a novice one. It took a minimal amount of energy and made the swing (...)
Post Merged: May 09, 2011, 08:04:39 PM
Nearly 65 times stronger, while appearing to be an average attack.
-
Ossanlin again steps into the timestream, the shockwave of the attack echoing through reality knocking him to his knees, another gash of purple-blue energy opening on his flank where the attack had skimmed him before he'd been able to step out of reality. Ossanlin watches as the attack echoes through the current thread...distractin g himself, pushing away the pain by submitting further to Mar's energy, his eyes very dark purple now, nearing black. The energy perhaps was not darkened, but the nature of it forced Ossanlin himself to accept a bit of darkness...he was using souls...sentient souls to maintain this ascended state. This couldn't last, and he knew the more Mar "fed" him, the worse off both himself and his friend would end up. This had to end soon.
Ossanlin steps back into reality, the timestream becoming harder to step in and out of...he didn't belong there and the more time he spent on that plain of existence, the further he would degenerate both mentally and physically. Ossanlin appears again in the center of the clearing, well away from everyone. He draws his spirtual energy within himself again, embracing Mar's energy along with it, his eyes glowing an empty purple-black. <Enough human...if you will not desist...> Ossanlin crosses his blades in front of his body and slowly draws them apart laterally, concentrating energy through the swords. Arcs of purple energy jump between the tips as they pull further and further apart, reality seeming to bend around Ossanlin. The air itself seems to bend as it begins to be drawn into the void the Andalite is creating, a small singularity, swirling and pulsing with blue, silver, and purple streaks. Null-time was incredibly dangerous to use...should Ossanlin's concentration slip, there's a distinct possiblity that the entirety of the bar would cease to exist. <You leave me no choice.> Ossanlin attunes the null-time void to Okaru's distinct energy signature and unleashes it at Okaru faster than the speed of light...after all its existence was the non-existence of time...its boundaries were nearly limitless. It would chase Okaru to the ends of the Universe...at least until Ossanlin's concentration lapsed, in which case it would either simply cease to exist, or would explode in a horrifying shockwave of nothingness. Once the singularity connected with Okaru, which was nearly inevitable, it would form a barrier, a prison of null-time. Oh yes, whilst under Ossanlin's control he could cause it to devour Okaru and leave nothing behind...but that was not his goal, even whilst imbibing of the darkness that threatens to consume him as well. Perhaps the human would yield...some small part of Ossanlin....the part that is still Ossanlin, hopes for that.
-
Mar gasps on the ground, clutching both his left arm and his chest as he falls into a kneeling position. Odd glinting gold scars etch across parts of his face, white highlights briefly appearing in his hair and then disappearing. Something was terribly wrong with whatever it was he was doing, and Mar understood this well. He was giving something more than raw power up to Ossanlin, and that very fact could make him sick.
Mar attempts to steady his breathing and nods carefully at the fully ascended Ossanlin. He realizes that talking to Ossanlin may be difficult, but he nonetheless attempts to convey his solidarity. Eventually he will have to back down or risk his mortal body's dissolution. Something aches on his back like a phantom limb and he realizes it isn't a good sign. He states very slowly in telepathic speech, <<...we can't keep this up forever, War-Prince. I am....not kind. Kindness....creates Light.>>
-
Okaru watched Ossanline make a...whatever this void seemed to be. Reacting instantly he ran straight for it!
Keeping his focus Okaru unleashed his own full power torrent of mental assaults on Ossanlin, sending every memory as a childhood...all the unrelinquishing pain..excruciating beyond belief..
As he neared the void he hurled his blade at Ossanlin, using his momentum to make it go further and faster as he called, ''No miicha ken karta!''
Feeling himself ripped from existence in such a fashion was beyond pain. He was gone for the smallest glimpse of time, but the pain he felt would equal an eternity of having his body disintregrated molecule by molecule.
The attack was one a few generations back, that using energy could teleport the user to any destination. But the amount of pain you needed to endure made it very difficult to use.
He dropped to his knees in pain, so bad that his vocal cords wouldnt even work. Forcing his consciousness to relax, he allowed himself to slip into the Speed Zone of his (..)
Post Merged: May 09, 2011, 09:08:40 PM
Mind. His essence literally went into a hibernation of sorts.
Slowly standing his body began vibrating faster then ever before, and he phased right through the bar towards Ossanlin.
Once on the other side he softly murmured in a voice so unnatural it would make a demons eyebrow arch, ''Oshata ten anst mei getzu.''
The ancient language he spoke nearly outdated every race. Once the sentence was completed, Okarus energy shot from his body in a concentrated beam so powerful it tore a massive crack in the planet as it shot at Ossanlin.
-
Ossanlin watches as Okaru moves straight for the void, he smiles in the Andalite fashion, and not kindly. The mental attacks evaporate against the iron-clad resolve of the Andalite...so this is what it's like to be a god...Ossanlin is jarred out of that thought by Mar's words. <Yes Mar...I hear you...I know your pain...I...know your reality...your true reality.>
The null-time void would work as long as Ossanlin maintained his concentration. He watches as Okaru hurls his sword, and doesn't bat an eye as the void swallows it whole, devouring it. It is not lost...it still exists after a fashion...but Okaru would need to enter the void himself to retrieve it, and that would mean the end of the fight.
Okaru seems to vanish and Ossanlin feels the void pursue him to the ends of time. It follows him, a few millimeters behind. It would be over soon.
-
Glowing a soft throbbing Silver, the blast was around 6 feet in diameter and a cylinder in appearance. The attack would take as long as needed for it to connect with the target, but once it did his energy would return allowing him to wake. It was known as the forbidden attack due to the ferocity of it. It would never stop following the target, however if the user's body was killed, it died away. During the time the attack was active, his body was unprotected.
Okarus body however fell to the ground, completely unable to remain consciousness. The fact he had to resort to using the forbidden attack, named Ossanlin a formidable opponent.
Post Merged: May 09, 2011, 09:17:45 PM
((Btw the blast does continue even after the bodies death but is more savage due to energy not being able to be destroyed, so that when it does connect, it will explode even more powerfully. Im not sure how powerful the explosion would be but since it technically is forcing energy to be destroyed i imagine pretty powerful. Sorry this isnt in the ooc thread. I tried posting it six times. Dont no why it wont))
-
Another energy attack. How...unoriginal. Ossanlin raises a hand in front of himself, the massive attack blasting into it. The energy behind it was immense...incredibl e for a human to generate such power. Ossanlin inverts time at the front of his hand, the energy splashing in intense waves around Ossanlin without any actually touching him, the Andalite still smiling as his void closes even further upon its target. Yes...it would be done very soon.
-
Jacob became aware of the fight outside escalating. He turned and walked to the door to watch what was happening. He was surprise to see a glowing blur of action part was silver and parts were white.
-
Mar, laying on the ground, gets the bizarre sense that he and Ossanlin are staring at one another. Somewhere very far away from the dewy grass and dusty ground of this miserable world. He sees that Ossanlin understands everything now, even if only for a moment. What Mar and so many other beings like him are pieces of. And what danger it holds if he meets Ossanlin while the War-Prince has opened the passage between worlds. He can only hope Ossanlin's soul can hold the passage open long enough and avert disaster.
The eyes of Mar's human form are nearly glazed over. He shakes his head lightly, trying to focus. He can't leave. He has too much to stick around for.
-
|THETA-PI|
We watched the engagement with increasing curiosity. The Humanoid took the appearance of a photonic being, while the Andalite appeared as a Metallic being. Both powerful. But there was power beyond what their biological capacity was now. We scanned the anomaly surrounding Ossanlin with the interphasic scanner, but it turned up no results.
That was impossible. The interphasic scanner is able to scan anything, even tri-40 alloy, how could this be unreadable?
The conflict heightened, <Claxter, are you certain the Andalite does not require assistance at this juncture?>
-
"Yeah," Illim nods hurriedly, sliding into the seat in front of the weapons panel and manning the Yeerkish controls as living metal buckles protectively slide over his shoulders and waist. "But I should warn you this isn't my forte. Especially not in a new host." He scans the ground hurriedly, searching for the fight as he thumbs the power of the Skimmer's canons down.
Serid's stunned observation of the fight between his new Prince and this stranger is interrupted by Elayne as, at the commotion outside, she pushes open the Bar door and joins the throng of gathered Andalites. Unable to make out much of the fight, itself, her eyes turn instead to a frighteningly still individual.
"Mar!" she shrieks, all the confident attitude she had held earlier dissipating in a vapor of fear. She hurries towards him, unheeding of the blue bodies interrupting her path.
-
Mar is fading away, from his body and from the Bar. Ossanlin's current power level is draining his reserves enough that holding onto a useless mortal body doesn't seem as relevant as swallowing the Andalite who is stealing from him. Wait...was the Andalite actually stealing? That wasn't what happened, was it? Did the difference really matter? Incarnations of his were sick with pain.
Abruptly, a figure darts across the grass toward Mar's projection. Mar's mind snaps into clearer focus in response to this, coughing up a lung as his heart rate speeds up. Mar spits onto the ground and stares up at the figure. He recognizes the figure. "El...Elayne," states Mar in a somewhat coherent voice. "Sorry. Have to...the War-Prince. I need to help him."
-
|OGREON|
The Ambassador watched as the battle waged outside. He wished he could help stop the fighting. But there was nothing he could do! If he walked into the heat of battle to stop them, he would certainly be torn in two(or something just as horrific...). If he called for peace from the sidelines...they would probably either laugh at him or ignore him...maybe not even hear him.
So he turned to yet another patron in the bar, "Excuse me, does this sort of thing happen all the time here?"
His resolve to remain here until Vogefac was found was starting to falter...
-
<I don't even know anymoer> Claxter said to theta. <Prince Ossanlin! Are you ok?> He called
Jagill's attention was pulled from what he saw when he heard elkayne call Mar's name. He looked sick. What happened. he climbed down, and went to him. "He need sickbay. I take him?" He asked Elayne. He remembered that she would think he was Temrash, and might wonder why he was acting different. "I am not Temrash now, by the way. Temrash somewhere else. Call me Jagill."
Derrel didn't have anything to say about the weapons The only weapon he had ever used was whatever he could pick up and bludgeon over someone's head until they left him alone.
-
"No, don't move him!" Elayne responded to Jagill in the same frenzied tone, not even bothering to see who had spoken. She skids to a stop on her already-filthy pants' knees, afraid to touch Mar lest she disrupt him somehow. "Are you leaving me?" she asks wide-eyed, her voice quieter but no less terrified.
<Having fun yet?> Illim asks Derrel with a smirk as he spots the battle dangerously near the Bar and magnifies the sight on the holoscreen in front of him for better accuracy.
-
"Ok." Jagill said. He squatted down near mar, wanting to help but not being sure how. Mar wasn't a good person, but he hadn't done anything personally to Temrash or Jagill, so Jagill didn't have any strong negative feelings against him.
<As long as that guy can't get up here to us, I'll be fine. I didn't know there were people with superpowers out here. Maybe if I stay out here long enough, I'll get superpowers too.> Derrel said.
-
Mar glances tiredly up at the woman above him and smiles. This appears to strain the bizarre latticework of glinting cracks in his cheek. "Elayne," he states again. "My Elayne. I am helping the War-Prince. He will fail if I disappear. But...I am disappearing. That's...a bit of a problem for me, isn't it?"
Mar chuckles and says carefully, "...I'll try not to leave if I can, pet. But my body isn't taking this very well."
-
Salem nodded in response to Jasper's comments about the dependency being a 'toss-up' - from the sound of things, he thought he agreed. It was one dependency or the other. Granted, he didn't know much about the situation- he'd have to start doing some pretty intensive research into Yeerks in order to even have a chance of getting these two what they wanted. Still, the knowledge he gained would no doubt be useful in more ways than one- that was the main reason he traded in technologies and information. With goods, you could run out, but knowledge kept on giving.
Salem happened to glance over at the wall of the craft- the neon shapes representing Ossanlin and the swordsman were moving around each other with incredible speed. The ship was still able to track them, displaying their changing positions as bright trails, but he'd never seen beings moving that fast- he was sure he'd be unable to keep up in person. It looked as though they were fighting, though at those speeds, who could tell.
"Al, can you keep an eye on that for me?" Salem asked, nodding towards the wall. "See if you can figure out what's going on?"
Al glanced over at the display and his eyes grew wide. "I... sure..." he replied, ****ing his head at the scene and ordering the ship's computer to run some analyses of the information it'd already recorded on the scene.
Salem turned back to Jasper and said, "If you don't have Kandrona sources, I'll have to find someone who does. If most Yeerks are dependent on them, they ought to be common on this rock. Would he know for sure if you guys are carrying something like that?" he asked, nodding down at Sapptus.
Salem pulled his persona scanner back out of his pocket when Jasper asked about it. "This? I... actually don't really know what it's called. Or how it works. I've been calling it a Persona Scanner. It images a being's emotional, mental, and spiritual auras and outputs a bunch of information based on that. It also gives me a surprisingly detailed physiological readout of whatever, so maybe it can help me out with this instant problem of yours." Now that he was thinking about it, he went ahead and clicked it at Jasper again as well. "Just so I know if I can separate the Yeerk image from the host without having to physically separate them," he explained with a shrug as he re-pocketed the device. He pulled another gadget from the pile he'd made. This one looked somewhat like a miniaturized swing set without the swings. He glanced at Sapptus before turning to Jasper and asking, "Will he be okay under ultrasonic imaging?"
When Sapptus spasmed, Salem's heart jumped. He began looking at his instruments and going through his readouts to see if anything was going wrong. "Is he okay?" he asked Jasper worriedly.
"Um, yeah, I guess he'd know. I could probably find out if we had a generator or anything on our ship, but uh.. no offense or anything, but I'll wait till he's back upstairs before I leave. No offense, really. It's just... yeah." Jasper didn't seem to be affected when Sapttus squirmed. "Yeah, he should be fine. He's told me that's normal. Probably he's just stretching or something. I bet it's kinda cramped up here." He says, tapping his head. Regardless of his act, he was slightly nervous. Then again, he was most often nervous. Which was why he was normally so quiet. But... he wasn't exactly being quiet today...
He just wanted his little slug-buddy back.
He was feeling a little bit self-conscious and just nodded at Salem's explanation of his handheld device. He became distracted with the display that Al was looking at, the one that Salem had called attention to.
"What is that?" He said, dazzled and confused by the shifting swirling lights. "It looks like a screen saver or something..."
-
Salem nodded at Jasper's assertion that Sapptus was okay and took a breath to steady himself. He was getting jumpy. That wasn't like him. He needed to calm down. He set the miniature swingset-looking device on its side and pointed the legs at Sapptus, then sent a thought-speak command to it, causing it to emit a series of ultrasonic tones. Salem didn't realize it, but the lower-pitched of these would fall right in the range of tones Yeerks used for communication- Sapptus would probably be able to make them out very clearly. After a few seconds, the device had finished its scans, and emitted a low-pitched beep.
Salem tilted his head and looked at Sapptus. He wasn't sure how much more he could do right now, and there were some scans he wouldn't be comfortable running until he saw what the scans he'd just taken said about Yeerk anatomy and composition.
"I think I've got everything I can for now," Salem said to Jasper. "You two can... reengage, or however you say that."
At Jasper's inquiry, Salem glanced over at the wall. "That's a representation of some of the beings outside this ship. In this case, the bright white one is an Andalite I'm... acquainted with. You can see how a couple of the stationary images are Andalite and human shaped." Salem sent a thought-speak command to the ship, causing the entirety of the interior- floor, walls and ceiling- to be covered in a similar style of imaging, showing the bar and forest as dulled neon outlines, and the ships in the yard as slightly brighter outlines. Salem noticed the bright pink shape of the Skimmer hovering over the bar and frowned. And there was Mar, lying on the ground, flanked by Elayne and Temrash. Salem swallowed. Had Mar been injured? He seemed on good terms with Ossanlin, so Salem suspected the swordsman. There was something very wrong with the whole scene. With another thought-speak command, he ordered that portion of the display to zoom slightly.
He turned back to Jasper and shrugged, "It's a fairly effective way of displaying information, at least. Looks to me like there's a fight or something going on out there. I should probably see if I can help."
-
"Can you get a good read on the humanoid thing that's attacking Ossanlin?" Corliss aks tersely, staring down at the holoscreen readout that shows the position of Ossanlin and Okaru. "I don't know who he is, but he's trying to kill my brother's friend. My ally. And even if it's some duel...we must take action."
He watches, anxiously, as Illim tightens the focus around Okaru.
"If you can get a good read on this strange humanoid, without much collateral?" He glances back at Illim. "Fire."
-
We read an unknown terrain vessel on approach. We scanned it as it came closer.
<Claxter, would it be safe to assume that if this vessel fires, we also may assist?>
We found it hard to believe, but we were becoming...bored. Individuality was rather tedious.
-
Jacob stepped aside as the woman barged out of the door. This was a rather interesting fight. They were well beyond his skills.
-
Ossanlin's unkind smile never falters or changes as his null-time void strikes Okaru's unconscious form. It latches onto the human's energy and forms a perpetual barrier, a sort of stasis prison stabilized by Okaru himself. Ossanlin would no longer need to concentrate to maintain it.
Ossanlin slowly sheathes his glowing katana, still smiling. He glances at Claxter, dark-purple eyes burning with the intensity of a pulsar. <Such power...so much power...I could end the war...I could do anything!> Ossanlin revels in the raw energy now stemming from Mar. Something tugs at the back of his mind, a nagging voice, an insignificant thought, but it disturbs him. It's as if this voice will not allow him comfort...such annoyance. It is now that Ossanlin sees Mar, the true Mar, weakening. Incarnations, stems of his form in pain, dying...including the one here at the bar.
Ossanlins thoughts jog back...what was he thinking? Unlimited power? This was NOT him. He immediately runs to Mar, seeking the source of the energy feed. The strange gauntlet. He glances at Elayne, dark-glowing eyes still alight. <Move...now.> Ossanlin wastes no further time, stripping Mar's sleeve back and grasping the gauntlet. The power...the power was so sweet...but he couldn't keep it, it wasn't his. His friend would die...with the battle raging in his mind, Ossanlin uses all of his strength to force the energy back into the gauntlet. The blackness drains from his eyes and his wounds open, blood beginning to seep. He cries out in pain as the energy no longer buffers him. Still he pushes the energy away. Mar's energy was no longer within him, but still he pushes, ceding some of his own energy to Mar. He feels his aura reduce as the gauntlet seems to start drinking his energy.
He winces as the energy drains from him, pain wracking his body. His fur reverts to blue, the bright white glow around him fading. His eyes continue to glow but with a much less almost muted intensity. Ossanlin breaks the contact with the gauntlet, falling to his side as his wounds begin bleeding more profusely. He groans, feeling too weak even to morph.
-
A smile of relief glances across Mar's face when he realizes the War-Prince has triumphed against the swordsman. He wonders dimly if what he did was alright---the Ossanlin running toward him seemed slightly different. Wait, running towards him?
Mar's eyes widen as the War-Prince's hand and aura make contact with his own. The rush of the power he had sent toward Ossanlin drifts back into him, reawakening the ebbing and flowing tide of voices in his mind. He realizes with surprise that he had provided the Andalite with enough of his own sustenance to nearly kill the body. How foolish he had been, donating his hard-won quarry to a person already possessed of great strength! He could have won the fight without taking Mar's lifeblood, couldn't he? A sick little smile appears on Mar's face as he encounters a particularly delectable morsel. Someone who had once been noble, an honorable fighter and----
Mar rips his arm away and stands up abruptly, causing Ossanlin to fall to his side. The idiot had been adding his own energy into the mix! A dangerous thing to do in the presence of an artifact he knew nothing about. Mar then kneels beside the wounded Ossanlin, staring toward Elayne. "...what a fool. The War-Prince may need help. Thank you for..." Mar bites his lip. "...coming when I fell."
He wasn't sure what else to say. He still felt tired from all the exertion. Much had happened at the Bar.
-
Ossanlin looks up with his main eyes weakly, seeing Mar...just a few moments ago he had understood the very nature of Mar...now that escaped him, but there is a link now, he thinks. Some strange connection, as if even though he no-longer grasps Mar's nature, he understands Mar on a deeper level. <I...I am glad you are alright. I nearly...I nearly lost myself. If you hadn't sacrificed for me, I would be...be dead. Thank you. I'm so glad you are unharmed.> Ossanlin's eyes flutter on the brink of consciousness, the glow emanating from them seeming to be a bit darker still. Ossanlin finds it hard to keep a thought in his head...everything was so fleeting. Why couldn't it just slow down?
-
Mar sits close to Ossanlin. He notes that these aren't the worst injuries the War-Prince has sustained in the Bar---the fight with the bounty hunter and Salem's ship had done more damage than this. It was not however a bright idea to just leave the Andalite lying here. The problem was that there was little Mar could do. Transferring energy back to Ossanlin wouldn't heal his body. Even if he could, it might not matter. The strange energy rush forcing its way through Mar couldn't care less about the Andalite. He was struck by how irritating these contradictions in his mind often were to him.
"Ossanlin, you need to morph," states Mar as clearly as he can."That is what I heard them asking you to do when last you were injured. I think it has something to do with changing the body. You certainly don't deserve the regular trauma visited on you, War-Prince."
-
Efaen stood in mute military stance through the duration of the battle, her own abilities so inconsequential compared to those fighting that she was hardly able to comprehend what she was watching. At the speeds they were moving, the battle came to an end with an abruptness that she almost missed, and she was surprised to suddenly see Ossanlin - no longer glowing with that disturbing inner light - alone with Mar. Efaen's well-structured mind reeled with the results of the battle. How can any Andalite contain that much power? she wonders to herself. It is unlike anything she has ever seen before, and suddenly her inherent distrust of the Andalite warrior-traitor seems inconsequential.
<Prince Ossanlin,> she speaks openly to him, her thought-speak voice betraying her awe. <You should listen to your...friend. You need to morph away your injuries.>
One stalk eye fixates on Claxter.
<<Were you aware that this Andalite possessed so much power?>> she asks him privately, in a softer tone.
Terenia listens in to the bits of conversation that the computer can pick up, but all that does is frustrate her further. She wants to help. She wants her body back. Instead, she is stuck squirming about the small, portable pool. Frustrating for any Yeerk, but doubly so for Terenia, who still has Andalite instincts bouncing around her brain thanks to her original Andalite form. That part of her is terrified of the blindness, of the way the pool's sludge seems to encase her small, sluggy body. Now that her Yeerk form is no longer reveling in the Kandrona particles, this other part of her seems to be taking over. As a result, Terenia feels the beginnings of a panic welling up inside of her. She is not used to having no control over when she leaves the pool.
<I need out of here,> she says in panicky thought-speech. <What's going on? I can't see anything. I can't hear anything. Corliss, get me out!> Her small body writhes, making barely a ripple on the pool's surface.
Trey clearly heared the sounds of battle; how could he not? When Elayne leapt up from the table to see what was going on, he even half rose to follow her. But then, at the sight of bright flashing lights from outside - like a silent lightning storm - he returned to his seat, one hand trailing to his bandaged head. Not the place for me, he admits to himself, as the battle seems to die down, trying to ignore the pang of guilt he feels. Will he always be this much of a coward? Perhaps starting a rebellion is foolish of me....
-
Claxter didn't have much time to asnwer Theta before the battle was over, though he noted that he android friend was getting bored. He had started getting restless too. The look his Prince gave him when he said he could do anything sent a shiver down his spine, but fortunately that went away.
<I have been aware that he wasn't normal.> He told Efaen. <I didn't realise he was this powerful, though. His Prince seemed to be getting injured frequently around here. <I will get something to stop the bleeding.> He started running to his ship for medical supplies.
Jagill got up, but since Claxter was going to get supplies he decided he didn't need to do anything. "Why is Ossy so different, Mar?" He asked.
-
We watched as the fight came to an end. The impenetrable anomaly closed over the humanoid. The nature of the anomaly unknown to us, we looked at Claxter, then to Ossanlin.
As claxter went to get something to heal Ossanlin, I walked up to the seriously injured andalite and the being near him.
<You are the one known as Prince Ossanlin. One of my cybernetic implants replicates a pint of hyperadrenaline. Do you require any? I believe it would be of good use.>
We looked at the other being, <What is your designation?>
-
Corliss stares out the main viewscreens, watching as the fight blinks to an impossible speed.
And then, almost as soon as it began, the fight was over.
The human-thing that had been attacking Ossanlin...gone. Swallowed up by an anomaly that happened so quickly, neither Corliss nor Mike could really process exactly what it had been.
"Illim," Corliss breathes, "hold fire. What the bleeding hell was that?"
<Ossanlin looks hurt,> Mike says, gazing down at the limp form of the Andalite War-Prince, no longer glowing with that fantastic light. <Christ, mate, shouldn't we help him?>
Before Corliss can answer his host, Terenia's frantic voice breaks into his thoughts.
"Terenia," he replies tersely, "what am I supposed to do? Ossanlin just bloody well demolished the human bloke with the hair and the light and...and whatever he was...hang on. I've got to get us on the ground, and then you can switch with Mike, but I don't reckon Ossanlin's in any state to help us."
He sighs, frustrated, and runs a hand through his messy black hair. "Computer, initiate automatic landing sequence," he says, and the ship starts to lower towards the front of the parking area, with a little guidance from the Yeerk.
-
Sapttus twitched reflexively, just a little, at the sounds pounding at him all around. People were yelling at him, and it wasn't his fault!
"What are you doing, you fat lard?! Get up off your lazy hide and CATCH THAT LEMUR!!!"
"Lead me to water, but not to the track. Show me a saddle and I'll say, "Hey get off my back.""
"I just can't believe it.... why on Neptune would you have ever eaten that sponge cake? It wasn't yours! You know how hard I worked on that!"
"Sometimes, you're so nonchalant I just can't stand it. Doesn't anything ever strike you as a massive emotional quandary? Where is your heart, man?!"
"YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!!"
"Once upon a time, there was a young elven man named - aww, heck, you've heard this story..."
All these voices shouted and berated at him together. Yet somehow, he understood it all, agreed with it all, and proved them all liars. Shut up and go back to your barn, ya morons! He shouted in return. The maddening raucous stopped, and left Sapttus alone with his own madness, feeling rather proud of himself for having shown the ultrasonic uproar who was top dog in this town. Annoying little hooligans... GET OFF MY LAWN!!!!
[/i]
"Looks like it's over now, though... Where'd the... person go?" Jasper was beginning to have second (or perhaps third) thoughts about this place. Was this really any better than living under Visser Three? He wasn't totally convinced. 'Disappearing people' wasn't a positive point to add to his growing list of concerns...
He took his eyes off the... everywhere... and went back to the table to retrieve Sapttus. It wasn't like he was understanding anything anyways. As much as a geek he considered himself, this was a few levels beyond him. Gently, he picked up his slimy little pal -
NOOOO! NOOOO! NOT THE BIRDS!!! ANYTHING, BUT... NOOOO!!!
-and put him up against his ear, head tilted slightly to make it easier for him to re-enter. It felt weird, like it always did, and he felt that it hurt, not excruciatingly so, but a lot more than normal. After just a few seconds..
"WHERE IS THAT FREAKIN' LEMUR?!?" Sapttus greedily grabbed control and grabbed the nearest long stick-like object, and began wielding it like a baseball bat, running about the cabin in a rather comic style, looking for this imaginary monkey.
-
Danielle ran over to where Theta and Claxter were already with a few others.
"What did I miss? Please tell me I didnt miss everything." She said. Her gaze shifted to an andalite nearby, with several injuries. "What happened?" She asked again, concerned.
-
"You miss everything." Jagill said. "Big fight. Very fast. Human trapped, but Ossylin injured. Hopefully they make better."
-
"Oh I see." Danielle said, still slightly confused. "Who exactly is this human that attacked Ossanlin?"
-
Ossanlin tries to open his eyes but hasn't the energy, so many voices...so much going on. Why couldn't they just slow down and let him rest? 'The injuries...the injuries are not a problem' he thinks to himself. 'So exhausted...just need to rest...sleep.' A fog seems to cloud his thoughts as he begins falling out and back into consciousness in quick succession. <Voices...>
-
Adam's head bangs into the bar counter. He jerks back, suddenly awake. He loses his balance, falling back off his stool onto the ground. He lands on something, and tries to stand up again, only to bang his head on the underside of the bar. Finally he groans, dropping back to ground, pulling his knees to his chest. "The hell's goin' on?"
He drops his hand to the ground and feels what he's sitting on. He looks down. Then looks up. Fiona's castle of straws has collapsed, and the straws are now scattered on the counter and the ground. "Great."
-
Danielle saw Ossanlin start to fall unconscious. She must act quickly. She took out a small bottle from her poctet and opened it, giving Ossanlin some under his hoof.
"Its Maglosian Fireflower extract." She explained. "It has a strange ability to heal injuries."
-
The Ossanlin Unit seemed confused. He did not answer our query.
It looked like he might need a...boost anyway.
Taking the liberty, we detached the vial from the implant on our fore leg. We extended the hypodermic needle and pierced his skin, releasing the hyperadrenaline into a major artery.
Stepping back and replacing the vial, we locked all eyes on him, <Ossanlin. We are Theta-Pi of...we are Theta-Pi. Can you comprehend us?>
-
Illim grunts, disarming the cannon and leaning back in the weapons console chair. "Good," he mutters in response to Corliss's second order. "There's no way in hell I'd have been able to hit that guy."
He watches the Andalite labor to rest on the ground with a frown and asks, "If he's even telling the truth, do you think it's worth it to wait around for him to recover enough to help Terenia? She's obviously a bit... grouchy about her current situation--" He raises his voice and says, "Understandably so, of course--and it's not like she'll get another opportunity like this to regain that particular host body."
Elayne blinks at the abrupt end of the fight and hesitantly touches Mar's shoulder. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. I... are you... going to be alright?" she asks nervously, breaking eye contact with him only to glance up at the others speaking to him.
Serid shifts uncomfortably as he watches Ossanlin attempt to recover. <<I have never seen anything like that,>> he tells Efaen privately, his dark eyes wide.
-
Taylis got down to help Carris pick up the straws that fell from Fiona's castle. Carris hadn't spoken a word to her yet but she know that he needed his space. Plus so mush had happened. She had watched the fight with interest but didn't want to get anywhere near people using that much power.
-
Mar notes Elayne's touch on his shoulder with some trepidation. His feelings for the girl were confusing. He was in love with her, wasn't he? It was nice seeing her here to help him. Yet falling in love with another woman had been one of the strangest experiences of this incarnation's short life. Mar sucks in a few more breaths, trying to re-orient himself after the chaos outside.
"Again...thank you for coming to meet me out here," muttered Mar. "I'll...I'll be fine. I am concerned for the War-Prince, mainly. He's getting hurt far too often in this Bar, and every time he does his life becomes more complicated. Why is nothing ever simple with those I know? Maybe...."
Mar shrugs awkwardly. "...maybe the people here simply attract trouble. Ironic then that I should be mostly free of the problems that plague me elsewhere."
-
Ossanlin's hoof absorbs some sort of liquid as the synthetic adrenaline hits his brain. His eyes fly open completely, his hearts increasing in rate by large amounts. <I..you...what...> He struggles to stand, kicking massively with his legs, blood flowing much more freely from his wounds due to the increased movement and high heart-rate. His fight or flight response dominates his brain as the adrenaline has its effect. <Where...where...wha t?!>
-
Adam waves Amy away. "Christ, leave me alone for a minute, would you?" He doesn't move from his spot on the floor, just rubs his now throbbing head. "What the hell's going on around here?" He looks around, then grimaces.
-
We forgot to take into account that this Andalite body was unprepared for the hyperadrenaline when we processed the dosage size.
<Ossanlin, you should not strain. In fact, it would be better if you were to lie down.>, I stated before continuing.
<You are Prince Ossanlin. We are Theta-Pi. You are on the asteroid on which the Bar is situated. The Bar. You were injured to near unconsciousness. We injected you with an overdose of hyperadrenaline. We aplogize for our inaccuracy, it is only beginning to set in from our loss of the collective...>
We were quiet for a moment.
<Inhale slowly, and lie down. The hyperadrenaline should speed up your body's natural healing process, along with most of your functions...>, we stated.
-
Ossanlin attempts to calm down, the strange liquid he absorbed through his hoof coursing through his veins causing the bleeding to reduce. His eyes dart wildly around...so many people...where were his enemies? He closes his eyes, breathing deeply, attempting to calm his frenzied brain.
-
<We're not leaving without talking to Ossanlin,> Terenia snaps in response to Illim. Now that Efaen is no longer an option she needs her human body back. She cannot stay here, helpless, swimming around a little mud puddle for all of eternity, not having any idea what is going on while darkness crushes in on her from all sides and...
<Calm down, Terenia,> she orders herself, forgetting to use private thought-speak. <You'll be fine. You're aquatic, you're not going to drown.>
<<And what does such power mean for us?>> Efaen asks Serid privately.She is reluctant to add to the cacophony of voices addressing Ossanlin, but feels as though her presence must be made known. If Ossanlin has control over so much power, she would prefer for him to think upon her with relative ambivalence; otherwise how could she use it to her advantage?
She takes a step forward, main eyes inspecting the wounds to ensure that they do not coincide with any major organs. <Prince Ossanlin, it would be to your advantage to morph if you are able,> she says. <If you are not, then please remain as still as possible. Warrior Claxter is retrieving medical equipment. You are safe now.> She allows herself a small Andalite smile. <You fought honorably.>
-
Jacob shrugged everyone seem to be fine, although he would have to watch that Andalite. His power was beyond Jacob an you can sneak up on Andalites. He turns and goes back to the bar and orders a mug of hot cocoa.
-
Danielle closely monitored Ossanlin's condition, then turned to Theta. "What exactly happened?"
-
Trey notices someone reenter the bar now that the fight was over. It was an unfamiliar face, but appeared to be human. Not that 'appearing human' means much in this place. He glances back towards the door to see if Elayne is perhaps nearby, but he does not see her. Shifting uncomfortably he stands and wanders over to the man just in time to hear the man order hot cocoa. The drink order makes him smile at some memory and he leans on the bar next to the man.
"Put his order on my tab," the sixteen year old boy said, giving the bartender a grin. The bartender did not return the pleasant expression, but silently moved to prepare the drink.
"Hey," Trey says to the man, turning his smile on him. "I'm Trey. Were you involved in that fight out there?"
-
"Thanks, No I wasn't. I was merely observing." surprising how the simple act of buying a drink can soften your attitude towards a person, Jacob thought. Beside he was only a child.
-
"Hey," Adam says, still sitting on the floor under the bar. He points at the other people at the bar. "Either of you know what's going on 'round here?" Adam briefly considers getting up, if only to look less dysfunctional, but his head's still pounding, and... yeah. That was about as far as he was thinking right now. Which is undoubtedly dumb, but he can't be bothered to care.
-
"'Just got here." That was the second person to have asked him in a while.
-
Salem had also realized that the swordsman had apparently disappeared. That was odd. And Ossanlin... Ossanlin had run to Mar and collapsed? Something was very wrong with the whole scene.
Al, in the meantime, had been interfacing with the ship's computer, and had found evidence of the power the two beings had been utilizing in the fight.
"Hey, Salem, check this out," he said, causing the interior of the ship to begin replaying portions of the fight, in slow motion and with markers, trails and labels denoting things that hadn't shown up on the previous display.
Salem watched intently. For about two seconds. At that moment, Sapptus took control of Jasper again and began running around looking for a 'lemur,' whatever that was.
"The hell...?" Salem muttered, instantly on guard. As he fingered the gun in his holster, looking around for a threat, he yelled, "Jasper, what is going on!?" Sapptus ran at him with the Teslican inversion coil he'd grabbed, looking as if he was ready to swing, and Salem dove out of the way, more out of instinct than anything else. He rolled somewhat clumsily, banging his shin on one of the shelves and knocking some of his collected alien goodies to the ground.
-
"Yeah?" Trey runs a hand through his hair, checking the bandage on his skull to make sure no more blood had seeped through. He could probably take it off now, actually, but he was afraid of reopening the wound. "Everyone is okay, right?"
The bartender returns, setting down the glass of hot cocoa in front of Jacob and treating Trey to a surly look before wandering off to dry his glass.
"I'm Treyliss, by the way," Trey says, offering Jacob a hand.
-
We noted the Efaen unit. We addressed her...
<I have injected the Ossanlin Unit with a dose of hyperadrenaline. He should be healed within a few minutes, if his Andalite body is in good health.>
-
"There was duel or something out front. But it's over now." Jacob shook Treyliss' hand. "I'm Jacob."
-
"I see." Adam slowly pushes himself off the ground, reaching up to grip the bar with one hand as he pulls himself to his feet, nearly slipping on the straws. He leans down to right his bar stool, wincing. "Must've been some fight. I apparently slept through it."
-
Efaen regards the android-Andalite cooly. <While your help is appreciated, how do I know that what you injected him with will not make him worse? Does Prince Ossanlin look as though he is in good health right now?> She gestures to Ossanlin's body.
"Jacob," Trey nods. "Nice to meet you." He turns towards the new voice - one of the other patrons, who he seemed to remember seeing drooling over by one of the bar stools. "It was...bright," he says, in reference to the fight. This fact seems to confuse him, but he she shrugs. "I've been trying to avoid the fights, honestly."
-
"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." Adam glances down at himself, still mostly covered in dirt and blood, though some of the dirt's wiped off. He runs a hand through his hair, scattering more. "I tried that, too. Didn't work so well."
He gestures at the bartender. "Glass of water?" He turns back to the other patrons. "Name's Adam, by the way. My usual other half's named Carris, though he's feeding at the moment." He pauses as the bartender sets a glass down in front of him. He eyes it dubiously. "Uh... can I get some clean water? Please?"
-
"Treyliss," Trey says again. "Though most people call me Trey. Your other half? So you're a Controller then, too, huh?" Trey shakes his head, still unable to entirely wrap his mind around the prevalence of natural Yeerks in this place. "What brings you to this lovely place?"
-
"Yeah, I am." Adam grimaces. "Ended up here because Carris was chasing a... friend of his. It's... complicated." He reaches for the new glass the bartender sets down, clean this time, but doesn't drink from it. "Long story short, things ended in a fight, and she... ah..." he gestures vaguely, looking more than a little uneasy. "You might've heard a gun shot awhile ago? I don't know how far that carried. It... yeah."
He stands there awkwardly for a moment, then sits down on his bar stool, suddenly absurdly weary, considering the little nap he just took.
-
Claxter came back with some supplies, and started bandaging up Ossanlin's wounds to stop what bleedng was still going on. <any changes since I left?>
Jagill had asked Mar a question, but it seemed he either didn't hear jagill or was ignoring him. He wasn't too bothered. The question wasn't really important. He just watched what was going on with mild curiosity.
-
~The Luxuriant Beryllian Battle-Class Ship Palkoris: Mid-Warp~
It was another terribly normal day for the space pirate, Van Aldbaran. He just dished out the paychecks of his hired crew, and they were probably happily somewhere back at the illegal spaceport Switcher's Bay, drinking their livers out and flirting unsuccessfully with girls. Van wished he could have girls with him aboard. Wished. But, he caught rumor about a suspicious trade deal going down amongst a few members of the Oligarchy, and was keen on checking it out. Anything that involved those political bigwigs trading money was always of interest to Van. Especially since Mar Le'saith was in on this deal.
Van mused about these goings-on contentedly and leaned back in his seat with a wide smile. The ship's computer was detecting no problems in the warp-stream, shields were operating at 80%, and the cabins aboard the ship were all stuffed with containers of illegal dosages of poorly-made Vivalite... Yes, this was certainly the good life. All it needed was women. Or if they so fancied, Van wouldn't have minded men, either. Oh, and Cassini owed him money.
...But, Van had three hours of perceived time to spare, until he warped out. Yawn. No big deal. Van stretched, and he yawned again.
"Gravitational shift anomaly detected, warp locked," stated the computer. Van jumped out of his reverie, nearly yanking out the nerve cords that attached him to the piloting controls, "WHAT?! Detect affected range of said anomaly!"
The computer's voice replied in a dead monotone, "Affected range of said anomaly is within 23 percen-3Sakflik-Uvuvuvu-... On'sanskr chu-nyah..Bzzt..."
Van wrinkled his nose and hit the malfunctioning machine, which did little to affect its rapidly deteriorating condition. "Waan sli vulk-nyah!" (You useless machine!) Throwing up his arms in exasperation, Van cursed again in his native tongue. "Zhevisht! Shadei-ku is waaaaay better at being useful than you, you pile o' junk-nyah. Great."
The space pirate stood straighter in his seat, and switched the controls back to Manual. A tingling sensation raced through his body as signals from the ship's neuro-link system began feeding information into his body again. His bright blue eyes widened, and all he could see were cascades of strange colors, and a black poisonous aura... "MAR-ZHEN?!"
An odd electric charge coursed through the ship and knocked the pirate out. Then, the spacecraft shuddered again as it warped and shifted into another plane, and back again to the physical world...
~Odd Plane~ ((Now on the same one as everyone else!))
Van's neuro-link was malfunctioning by the time he became conscious again. He opened his eyes blearily and saw... normal space. Fantastic. He fumbled at the controls to turn the engines on again, but the lever wouldn't move. The neuro-link was shot, and the ship was now beyond Van's control, as the controls only responded to both physical movements and mental signals.
Van cursed. There was nothing to do except wait and see where this ship would eventually end up. As if there weren't enough indicators that things were going very badly, the interior lighting had shut off, giving Van the bizarre impression that he was hurtling through the cosmos on his own. The only light came from what starlight there was in the galaxy.
"At least I'm still within galaxy," he mused, "Could've been worse; could have ended up outside of the place."
Suddenly, something caught his eye: a planetoid...? Out here?
Van's ship drifted towards the planetoid, as if drawn to it by a force. Gravitic science couldn't describe the phenomena, as a gravity well would have crushed the planetoid, or at least pushed it into a shape less recognizably... island-like.
Van stared out from the window in awe as he began to discern other features: grass, forest, a... building? None of these features made any sense, and Van began wondering if he was dreaming. The pull tugged harder onto Van's ship, and he had little time to contemplate anything more as the spacecraft swung port-side, hard. And it crashed up against the pathetic wooden building below.
The stone-like metallic sheen of the ship's body, and its brightly painted vine-form decals, clashed greatly against the rustic splitting wood of the wall as it was torn apart. Surprisingly, the momentum of the crash did little to the booths set up along the wall, except push them (and anyone sitting in them) down towards the entrance of the Bar.
Van wasn't belted inside, and he himself was thrown out from his ****pit. He flew through the air, and skid right down into the middle of the Bar, knocking drinks away before he slid off and onto the floor with a loud THUD.
-
"Oh," Trey pales slightly when he realizes that Adam was one of the people involved in the gunshot from earlier. "That was...wow. I'm...I'm sorry, man. I don't know what went on or anything, but it...yeah, it looked rough..." he trails off awkwardly, not really sure how else to react. He glances down at the bar, and is about to try again, but a sudden ripping noise pulls his attention. He barely has time to look up before one entire wall of the bar stretches and rips.
"****!" The obscenity flies from his mouth and he jumps back - an unnecessary movement as he is out of the way of the main impact. Regardless, he tries to put as much distance as possible between himself and the smoldering wreckage that is causing the ceiling rafters to lilt dangerously towards the ground.
<The android injected him with a material meant to stimulate his immune response,> Efaen informs Claxter, her main eyes watching his wounds carefully, monitoring the blood loss.
Efaen's concentration is broken by a new object in the sky. It has been some time since a ship crash landed, but the sight is no longer unfamiliar to Efaen. She watches with her stalk eyes as the ship hits the far side of the bar. Her immediate instinct is to rush to the wreckage and ensure it is not Andalite, but Ossanlin is still lying prone on the ground and he is her prince.
-
When Mar does not recoil from her touch, Elayne squeezes his shoulder lightly and kneels more comfortably beside him. "Maybe," she echoes with a sigh. "I'm just glad you're alright. I thought for a moment that you'd be gone, which is bad enough... but that if you saw me again, you wouldn't remember me, or would remember me as just some stupid girl." Her tone is quiet. "Which I feel like most of the time. I can't help you with anything important, Mar."
She bites her lip and is about to say more when the whistling of an fast-descending object interrupts her.
"Fine, fine," Illim says, raising his hands, palm-out, even though Terenia can't see the gesture. "I'm not in a hurry or anything. Just, you know, wondering."
As he unbuckles himself from the living metal and waits for the Skimmer to touch down, he notices something disturbing on the screen in front of Corliss. "Uh... incoming, man!"
Serid does not respond to Efaen, remaining quietly in the background while the multitudes approach the War Prince. His attention, however, is drawn by the crash landing of something behind the building. He flinches at the concussion of sound, but does not move.
-
Adam barely hears Trey's response before something rips through the wall. He jumps off his bar stool, able to keep his footing this time. "****!" he echoes Trey, stumbling backwards, knocking into the next stool. He moves out of the way, and backs up toward the other end of the bar counter. As he reaches it, he sees the guy who just came through the wall on the ground. Adam squats next to him. "Hey," he says, "Hey, buddy, are you okay?"
-
The crash certainly caused a stir. Then again, Van's ship was large- very large. At least it primarily, aside from that wall-raping scrape, missed the Bar. "Hey, buddy, are you okay?"
Van groaned in response. His long blond hair was a tangled mess of dust, shrapnel, and splinters, and he was covered in debris. He tried to suck in some air, but all the breathed in at first was sawdust, which caused him to cough violently.
His coughing fit quickly subsided, and the pirate pushed himself up with his slender arms. Now the world could see what he looked like. Van's face was human-like in appearance, with a perky, upturned nose, light skin, and an effeminate bone structure. He hardly looked like a man, and much less, one of 23 years of age. His eyes were a radiant blue, and his hair was long and blond, with purple tips. Both symbolized his half-human heritage, as blond was not among the hair colors found naturally among members of his race, nor were blue eyes a normal feature, either.
Half-human blood... Such an existence was the result of the Beryllians' attempt at perfecting their genetic compatibility with the indigenous peoples of any planet they hoped to assimilate into their empire. But that was a twisted era lost in the past and spat on by the so-called Human Rebellion, and overall, in this Bar it was rather... irrelevent.
Van glanced at the individual who spoke to him, and nodded, "Yeeanh, I'm fine."
His accent was thick and somewhat nasal, a product of his native tongue. At first, it probably sounded grating to those assembled at the Bar, but Van was used to odd looks. Noticing the splinters and wood chips on his clothing, Van began picking them off and chewing them up in his mouth. Yup, it was wood all right.
-
Adam moves back slightly, raising his eyebrows. "Yeah, you sure look fine." He glances across the bar at the general wreckage. "What happened?" He pushes himself erect, staring at the hole where the wall used to be. "You plow something into the building?"
-
"You aren't injured?" Trey asks, looking at the strange man with concern. "There's a med kit around here...somewhere..." He looks around the destroyed bar with a sinking stomach. "Uh...not sure where, exactly." He coughs, glancing down at the floor as he notices that the man is eating wood chips.
-
Danielle sees the ship crash into the bar. Should she go? Stay and see how Ossanlin is? Go? Stay? Go. There are enough people here to take care of the situation, but the ship, and its passengers, are unknown. She walked into the bar and saw a person on the floor eating wood chips. This was certainly interesting....
-
Van blinks, and shakes his head in response, "Ni-chaa. Erm, I mean, it was nothing. I was moving through warp, when an anomaly happened and...." He groans sourly and shrugs.
"Well, I got warp-locked, and then pulled over here. Baht..." Van paused, and corrected his pronunciation, "Er, but... I'm not even sure where this place is. Are we near the Federation or.. Hmmph. Gabo...Nun-galchii kree Quo gii saaa... Alvo Regares-de nani chaa~?" (Uhm, are we In-Rim? Are the Lords of Regares...?)
"You aren't injured?" asks another person, "There's a med kit around here...somewhere...". He seems flustered, as if the med kit... should be locatable. Sadly, it didn't seem to be in sight.
Van peeled another woodchip off his shirt, and chewed it to a pulp before swallowing. Suddenly, he realized where he was: a bar. "Mmm-chaa... A bar!" He broke out in a wide grin, "Well, well, well. Not a bad place to crash."
Van glances around the area, and then tries to stand up, before a sharp pain hits him in the side of his right leg.
"Visht! I... I need that medpack."
-
We looked at the Andalite, <Hyperadrenaline is not a harmful compound. It is an efficient means of amplifying basic bodily functions. With the correct dosage, it can do no harm. The Alvie Unimatrix would never use a product that would undermine their efforts. It has done no harm to the Ossanlin Unit.>, We said.
We already disliked this Andalite. Our memory engrams had several records of Andalites, and this was their normal air; overbearing, self-righteous, arrogant, self-assured. But Claxter and the Ossanlin Unit both seemed more agreeable than this Andalite.
We faced Claxter. One eye-turret on the Efaen Unit, the other on the Ossanlin Unit.
<<Claxter, We do not approve of your associate.>>, we advised him privately.
-
Jacob perception couldn't help what he couldn't see so he just managed to move out of the way before the strange alien species. He glanced at him and wondered if his annoyance was great enough to gut this stupid alien, but decided it wasn't. His hand had reached towards the inside of his jacket but now he let it slip to the side. "Another one." He slapped some cash on the bar. It was a mixture of alien and human currency.
-
<<WHOA! Hey?! Spazz much, dude?! You're crashing hard, man, now chill for just a second...>> Jasper had been caught off guard with the suddenness of the stark-raving lunatic in his head. He hadn't been ready for this... there hadn't been any of the usual signals when he'd left just seconds ago! Maybe the isolation or stress from the test or something caused it to progress faster. Either way, he had to seize control from Sapttus, a possibility that was one of the only things that made the addiction manageable for them.
"Sorry, I ... hold on...." He struggled to say to Salem while still twitching and jerking. Shakily, Jasper reached into his bag and pulled out a packet, accidentally dropping several others onto the floor, as well as a small book entitled 'The Knothead's Pocket Reference' and his cell phone, which was now pointless to have anyways. "...Just.... quiet...no.... get a... lemme...quit..." He muttered. This was severe. He was having a hard time trying to rationalize with Sapttus - not that he normally could talk him out of this state, but sometimes it would help him to calm down just a bit. Due to their struggle for control, Jasper's and Sapttus's mental conversation was leaking through their mouth as well. Jasper carried on with the daunting task of opening the small packet, and eventually, Sapttus suddenly became extremely cooperative and eager, practically ripping the baggie to shreds, but still somehow succeeding in getting most of the dried oats in him mouth. He began coughing, thanks to the fact that they were basically inhaling flavored sand. Together - sorta - they reached for their water bottle, clipped onto the strap of the laptop bag, but then fumbled it and sent it rolling across the floor. "...crud... look what .. now just... go... " They bent over to reach for it, but it ended up looking like a stomach cramp instead.
-
"Don't worry, love," Corliss replies to Terenia. "We'll make sure we can contact--"
Illim's warning is as abrupt as the appearance of the strange ship, which careens into the side of the bar and takes out an entire wall. The roof of the building sags in response, and splinters fling in all directions.
The bartender, inside the bar, watches with calm disinterest, drying a glass.
Corliss stares down at the wreckage.
"Holy ****!" he cries, as the ship settles its spindly, leg-like landing gears onto the gravel near the whole mess. With shaking hands he releases himself from the living metal restraints, which snake back under the nav chair.
He hoists himself out of the seat and runs both of Mike's hands through his black hair, staring out the four big red bug eyes of the Skimmer, and their accompanying viewscreens.
"What the bleeding 'ell was that, then?" he demands. "Computer, open exterior hatch and extend the ramp. Erh..." He hesitates. "Terenia...will you be okay for a few minutes if I lock you up in here, nice and secure?"
-
The only way you could describe Van's wrecked spaceship was to say it was like, well, a rock. A large craft, with hidden turrents and cannons, it was a small battleship cleverly designed to look like a noble's private pleasure yacht. It was made of a heavy, rock-like metal that had a dull gray sheen, and was designed like a building or a blocky monolith. It barely looked aerodynamic or "ship-like", but sufficient technology (and a lack of air in space) made such gripes about its design moot. In short, it looked a little like a vague attempt at building a giant, gliding, overweight bird out of stone, with small windows inset within the stone.
Mighty engines, three to be exact, powered this machine, along with a warp duct that housed Van's ever-important (and expensive!) warp drive. Colorful, ribbon like designs were painted on the ship, echoing plant-life and vines.
But the bulky craft was certainly clumsy-looking, and most unlike its slender, effete owner. In fact, though most real noblemen's yachts looked similar to this, there was something oddly suspicious about the make of the craft...
And at the moment, it looked like perhaps the most absurd new addition to the Bar.
Back inside, Van himself equally absurd in appearance. Having "blurple" hair kind of does that to a man. Figuring a med pack was unlikely to be found at the moment, staying put was the best idea. But this was a bar. And a drink would be a fine thing to have.
The pirate flopped back down to the floor, and dragged himself to the Bar table. Then, he pulled himself upright, pleasantly surprised that his left leg, though throbbing, could hold his weight just fine. Ignoring his injured right leg, Van made his way towards the bartender, and grinned.
"So, Barkeep. Have anything of interest?" He paused, and sighed. The man wasn't answering. In fact, the bartender seemed content to give Van a good staredown.
Van groaned, "I'll pay you once I get my leg fixed and get back to the ship. Uhhh... but since it looks a little expensive, you wouldn't mind being paid in Vivalite would you? It's green stuff. Comes in a syringe. Fixes up your dead and dying cells, pops another century into your lifespan! It's in high demand where I'm from. But now that I'm here, you're currently the first bidder I've got."
The Barkeep snorted, waved a cup at Van, and continued staring.
Disturbed, Van shook his head and made his order, "Nn, fine. Make mine a Dalcasian, shaken. Put a little spice in it too, would you, Barten-ku?"
Then Van searched his shirt, and slid out a card, and slapped it on the table.
"Eheh.For My tab."
-
Salem had rolled over and grabbed his shin where he'd hit it. After a few seconds, he finally managed to squeak out a strained "Ow." He looked over at Jasper, and it finally clicked, at least partly, what must be going on. Sapptus and Jasper sharing control led to that... outburst, whatever it was. He still wasn't totally clear on what'd happened, but it looked like they were now struggling to regain their composure.
He sat up and reached over with one hand to grab their water bottle, keeping the other hand pressed on his leg. He stretched his arm to hold it out towards Jasper.
Al looked surprised at Sapptus and Jasper's behavior for only a moment, then stepped over to them and grabbed the water battle from Salem to hand to them. He gently put an arm around their shoulder and helped them to stand up, looking at them with a bit of a worried smile and holding out the water bottle.
"Breathe, guys. Have a drink," Al said. "You've got your oatmeal. It's cool."
"You wanna sit down?" Salem asked through gritted teeth, indicating Al's chair in the center of the room.
-
Jasper nodded. At least, he was pretty sure it was him nodding, but that was the least of his/their worries. They took the water bottle and took a swig, followed by a few seconds of simply breathing, as if already feeling the relief. Actually, it would take a couple minutes for it to begin to take affect, but for now, Sapttus was distracted with the anticipation. They sat back - though it was more of a controlled fall, really - into the chair. Jasper was still holding as firm a grip as he could on all motor function. "Yeah, thanks.." He said, now mostly in charge again. "It'll take a minute for it to get to him through my system, but yeah, we'll be fine." he popped back another shot of oats, which went down much easier this time. "Look, I'm really sorry about that guys, and uh.. Sapttus will be too, when he's ready. I had no idea that was going to happen. Sorry..."
He hadn't realized he'd dropped his other things yet, considering how little of a concern it was. Granted, they would need all the oatmeal he could get, but.... they'd get to that later.
<<Is that monkey still out there? Is it... angry?>>
<<No, buddy, it isn't there. The monkey's left.>>
<<Oh good. I'm so happy you're here.>>
<<I am too. I'm sorry you had to deal with that all alone. I'm glad you're back.>>
<<Me too. Those people were mean!>>
<<What.. oh, never mind. Feeling better yet?>>
-
<<She is typical of my species. If I wasn't as cowardly, and wasn't raised by one of the more peaceful Andalites, I would probably be much like her. I'm hoping that her attitude will soften with time, but whether she will remain with us for long or not is up for debate.>> Claxter said as he continued stitching his Prince. He braced for the impact of the ship that crashed into the bar, but didn't move away from Ossanlin. It was not an Andalite vessel, so there wasn't reason for him to get up.
Jagill entered the bar after the crash, and looked around. The pilot seemed ok for now, though his ship would need to be moved. He could use the tractor beam, but he wasn't sure if he could do it by himself without tearing an even bigger hole in the bar. "Danyel. You help me pull ship out bar with Temrash ship?"
-
<You're leaving me!?> her panicked thoughts indicate that no, she clearly will not be okay. Control yourself, she orders herself. She's not sure why now, of all times, her Andalite instincts decided to kick it into high gear. The innate need for open spaces combined with her human instinct to avoid being submerged too long has her head reeling, fearing for the state of lungs that she does not have.
You've done this a million times before, Terenia berates. Calm the hell down. Slowly she brings herself back to a relatively normal state, although her "voice" is still trembling.
<Just make it quick, Corliss,> she says. <Don't...don't forget about me.> She hates sounding so helpless, but she also hates being so helpless. Damn it all, I really do need that blue oaf's help...
Trey nods and scans the area for some sign of the med pack that Elayne had used to bandage his head earlier. Last he had seen it had been stuffed under one of the tables that they had been sitting at, but that had been hours ago. Maybe even days - who could tell in this place? He is about to tell the newcomer as much, when he notices that the effeminate man is no longer in front of him, but has made his way over to the bar.
Well, at least he'll fit in, Trey thinks wryly as the man orders a drink. Trey continues scanning the bar until he sees Jacob and Adam, who had also scattered in the wake of the crash.
"Hey," he says, making his way through the wreckage and over to them. "Any of you guys see anything that looks like a med pack?"
Efaen watches as Claxter works on Prince Ossanlin, her expression neutral. One of her stalk eyes watches a small curl of smoke rising from the bar, the aftermath of the crash. Her other stalk eye takes note of the Skimmer landing nearby.
<How long until he is healed?> Efaen asks Claxter. <Should we not move him to a more secure location? It would be less than desirable to have a spacecraft fall on our Prince immediately following his victory.>
-
<I have finished the patchwork. I don't think he suffered any wounds that should prevent us from moving him, but I'm unsure how to move him. Why did that Hork-Bajir need to run off? I can morph something, but it isn't strong enough to carry him by itsself.>
-
"I'll check." Jacob turned to the Bartender. "'I'd like a medpac." He slaps some more cash on the bar.
-
Adam watches the newcomer drag himself to the bar and order, then turns to Trey. "Haven't seen it. I'll look around." He walks to the other side of the bar, toward the displaced booths and drops to his knees next to one. His left knee hits something sharp. He winces and left his leg. There's a small tear in his jeans, but otherwise he can't see more than a scrape.
He crawls under the table quickly, takes a moment to look for the medkit, then crawls back out and moves on to the next booth.
-
We processed the new information.
<We may be able to internally revise our force-field generator to act as a polarized tractor beam.>, We stated.
We launched our nanoprobes into action. They flew through the microscopic access ports to the heart of my abdominal support. They revised the generator to become more localized, and wrap itself around the target. They lessened the particle density so it would not be painful.
<We are prepared, if Claxter will give us a positive acknowledgement.>
-
Mar shakes his head lightly in response to Elayne's comment, putting a hand on a shoulder. "Sweet Elayne, you are not useless to me! You have probably kept me sane during this short time I have known mortality. Never put yourself---"
Mar frowns as he hears an odd whistling, loud sound coming from over his head. When he looks up, his eyes widen and he pushes Elayne down onto the ground. The crashing ship sails over their heads and crashes nearby, shaking Mar off Elayne and across the grass. Mar slowly pulls himself up, groaning at the pain of his rubbed-raw skin. Mar raises an eyebrow, slowly standing up and glancing at the ship that has crashed.
Considering the force of the landing, not much damage has been done to the thing. There have been crashes on the asteroid that were much worse than this. It looks like...a rather large rock. Beryllian, thinks Mar vaguely, although he has nothing to connect the word to. Mar watches in morbid fascination as the ships inhabitant stumbles out, and then scowls.
Mar glances at Elayne irritably and states, "....I know that man. I don't know how I know him, or even who in the world he is. Or even how I'm sure he's male. I just know that I don't like him one bit. I'd better go and stop him from causing trouble."
-
<Thank you Theta. If you could lift his entire body simultaneously, then we won't have to worry about the movement harming him like pulling on him might. We can then make for the Mirage. You may not have to exert yourself in an effort to morph, Prince Ossanlin.>
-
Danielle responds to Jagill, "Thats probably a good idea. The sooner the ship is out of the bar, the sooner repairs can be made, to both."
-
Jagill nodded, and made for his ship. "One of us pilot, and other use tractor beam, maybe. Which one you want? If I try by myself, I might make bigger mess."
-
She followed closely. "I'll pilot. Thats what my job technically is now."
-
Al stepped around to behind Jasper's chair and rested his chin in his arms on the high seat back, looking down at Jasper. He chuckled at Jasper's apology, "Nah, it's all good. The stuff in the main ship here is durable, and Salem there'll heal."
Salem shot Al a look of bemusement, then closed his eyes, took a breath, and pulled himself up by the leg of the shelf he'd thwanged himself on. "So, that something that your instant meal causes?" he asked as he half-limped, half-hobbled his way over to the chair. He mirrored Al's pose, looking down at Jasper with his chin in his hands from the other side of the seat back. "Man, you guys'd fit right in with Furka, from what I understand."
Al laughed, "Everyone fits in at Furka. That's why we're so awesome." He smiled down at Jasper, "Take your time, man. No rush."
Salem, in the meantime, had gone back to watching the display of what'd taken place during the fight outside, which was now repeating again on the wall of the craft. There were a lot of interesting energies being thrown around- his system had read strong life-force energy from Mar, beginning shortly before his collapse. The swordsman had been channeling what looked like immortal energy, though Salem couldn't tell from this display where the power had come from for him to generate the large energy blast he'd used at the end. And Ossanlin... it looked as though the War-Prince had been manipulating temporal energy, with a level of precision that even Salem's ship could barely comprehend, using nothing more than his own being. This was no ordinary Andalite. In fact, Salem found himself wondering if Ossanlin was actually an Andalite at all.
"Kandrona generator?" Salem asked, gently prodding Jasper and Sapptus. Al frowned at him slightly, but Salem just offered an apologetic shrug. He could see no reason to wait if they were ready to help him gather more information that'd assist his search for an oatmeal cure.
-
"Well, yeah, sorta. Really, it's not having it that causes it. So long as he's got his constant supply, he's good to go, but... apparently it's been too long." Jasper tilted his head back, and dumped the rest of the instant mix in his mouth, then crumpled the packet and stuffed it into a pocket.
<<yeah.... yeah, I think soap. Er, so... yeah, I'm getting there.>>
<<You had me worried there, I thought you'd gone off the deep-end for good or something.>>
<<Don't you give up on me yet. But um... was this as bad as the 'Falling Leaves' incident?>>
Jasper laughed slightly. <<Yeah... I'd so say. Although that was certainly funnier.>>
Sapttus sighed. <<I'll answer him now...>>
<<Go for it.>>
"This is Sapttus. I'm doin' much better now...." He said with the slightest stammer. "I din't bring one when we left, so 'nless there's one stored away on da ship somewhere, we don't have one. We'd be glad to go 'n check, but I highly doubt we'll have any luck."
"How's your knee?" Jasper asked, feeling guilty. No, he hadn't been the one swinging the thing around, but it had been his body, and, well... he thought that maybe he could have prevented it better. At least he wasn't really hurt..
-
We nodded.
We locked on to Ossanlin's Universal Coordinates. We activated the tractor beam.
Zaap! The Tractor came to life around the Ossanlin Unit. We raised the field barriers, and ossanlin floated of the ground.
We started towards the ship Claxter had referred to as the mirage.
-
Salem grinned, in spite of the throbbing in his leg, "I'll be fine. That was just a stupid move on my part." He pushed himself off the chair and limp-walked over towards the 'workbench' Sapptus had been sitting on. When he got there, he turned back to face Jasper and leaned against the bench.
"If you guys can't find a Kandrona generator, that's fine. I'm sure I can find others on this rock." He crossed his arms, "So, Sapptus, those scans I got of you are valuable in more ways than one. I've gotta pay you for that. What kind of stuff would you guys be interested in?"
Salem sent a thought-speak command to the ship, causing the internal display to stop replaying the fight and go back to showing a live image of the bar. There was something different, though. There, partially through the bar wall, was a large object that his ship had marked as a spacecraft. It was pretty clearly not Andalite or Yeerk- from what he could tell, the configuration wasn't something he'd seen before, though it looked vaguely Janapa.
"Oh, come on!" Salem yelled, surprising even himself. "I look away for two minutes and somebody crashes a damn ship into the bar? The hell is wrong with this place!?"
-
"Well ****," Illim remarks, wide-eyed, in response to the partial destruction of the Bar. "Hope it wasn't too jam-packed..."
He heads towards the hatch, making sure his new Dracon is still in place, ignoring Terenia to let Corliss handle her instead.
Elayne lifts her head, struggling to see what is going on around Mar. She curls into a ball to protect herself as Mar is thrown off her, and she looks around nervously as the deafening concussion of sound passes. "Mar?" She coughs and crawls the few feet to him, looking at the ship. "Are you really in any condition to stop... anyone right now?" she asks nervously, dusting herself off and flicking dirt from his coat's shoulder.
-
Jagill reached the ship and opened the hatch. He started up the ship, and sent a message to Temrash to tell him what they were doing. He pulled out something to sit on, and let Danielle have the pilot's chair.
-
Sapttus was still recuperating from the mental melt-down when Salem asked about payment. "All I want is a cure..."
Jasper thought to himself about what he'd ask for. Not that he had anything as important as Sapttus' need, but.. he could probably think of a few things. He felt kind of guilty thinking about himself. But hey, if they could get other things out of this deal, too... He kept quiet, however.
At least, he was quiet until Salem showed them what had happened. He was suddenly very glad they'd come to talk to Salem. If they'd been inside.... He didn't want to think about it.
"...Are these kinds of events normal around here? How do people even manage to stay alive on this disaster you call a planet?" Sapttus asked, incredulous. How was this place even still intact?
-
Corliss sighs. "Of course I won't forget about you, love," he says, idly checking the power level on his Dracon.
He follows Illim out the Skimmer's hatch, jogging down the ramp and onto the gravel.
"Oh, my God," he breathes, staring up at the smoldering wreckage of half the bar. Already, on the gravel under his boots, little splinters are flinching and writhing towards the broken and ruined side of the building. Like tiny, wooden snakes.
Or projectiles.
"Illim," he says faintly, "you may want to um...move away from the...the wood. The splinters, mate."
A sliver of wood flings past Corliss' face and he yelps, jerking his head back. Bigger pieces of wood start to crawl jerkily, as if drawn by a bizarre magnet, towards the slumped and smoking end of the building.
Inside the bar, bits of glass and wood splinters slide and slither past visitors, pinging against the metal hull of the crashed ship, starting to rebuild the broken windows and wall. Even a few odd pieces of what look like half-melted white board start to melt back together, sealing themselves impossibly into the wall.
-
....and so she reached out to push open the door.
There was no door.
Ewa blinked a few times. There was, however, part of a wall that was rapidly reconstructing, a lumpy ship of some sort and a bar. Since the bar wasn't actually in splinters she assumed it looked battered on a regular basis. There were surprisingly few humans on set, meaning this sequence would either be very academic or very ..... modern. Her mouth twists slightly. If this is the dream of some upstart with too much money to spend reasonably, I'm going to cut this short.
Still, what to do. Given the situation she's probably supposed to replace someone damaged in the crash which would mean direct interaction, but if this is what she thinks it is....
Ewa walks up to the bar, next to the confidently overdressed humanoid and watches him out of the corner of her eye. "I'll have a gin and tonic."
-
Salem shook his head without turning to look at Jasper. He was still staring at the scene of destruction that'd taken place at the bar. "I'm actually starting to wonder that myself," he said honestly. "In the short time I've been here, I've seen more chaos than I did in the previous several years." He turned back to Jasper and shrugged, "I've noticed that this place has a tendency to allow everyone to survive things that they wouldn't normally. I'm starting to think the bar might have a mind of its own. I can't see any purpose in most of the things going on here, but I tend to not question immortals."
Gee, that's comforting, he thought. My life is in the hands of an unseen sadistic lunatic. He shivered, and decided to change the subject.
"If you guys won't take something in payment, I will make you take something," Salem said with a wink at Jasper. He stroked the wall near himself, causing a compartment to open near the rear of the ship. He walked over and, with a grunt, pulled out a mostly-cylindrical device that was nearly as tall as his torso, and a bit bigger around. "Verrim Alchemist Device," he said, setting it down on the floor and resting his hand. "It's the most efficient way I've ever seen of converting materials into new raw elements. Would you have any use for something like this?"
-
Ossanlin keeps his eyes closed as he continues to calm his mind. He still felt antsy...jittery...b ut through extreme mental fortitude, he quells the chemically-driven fight/flight response an his parasympathetic nervous system slows its firing rate significantly. He feels himself leave the ground, a very strange sensation indeed, and opens his eyes. He cannot move...he's being held immobile by something, though he can still breathe. He can't seem to turn his head, though his stalk eyes are allowed to swivel and he sees a very strange Andalite indeed. The being seemed to have mechanical parts actually grafted onto his body. The Andalites were working on possible cybernetic enhancements, but this looked absolutely pervasive and over-done. No Andalite would allow the loss of his natural form so completely.
The other form looks to be Claxter, he addresses him. <Warrior, what is your current status as well as that of Efaen and...the other bar patrons?> Ossanlin does not refer to Mar specifically, though it is mostly the dark being that he is referring to.
-
Adam emerges from under a table, holding up the medkit. He coughs. "Found it!" He stumbles back to the bar, setting the medkit down on the counter. He coughs again, then notices the newcomer. "Hello there--" He trails off as he realizes the wall's... rebuilding?
"Jesus," he mutters, then turns to the bartender. "Guiness."
-
|OGREON|
Ogreon watched as the wounds of battle seemed to overcome the one andalite. Three others had been watching – one had cybernetic implants. We watched as the cyborg created a force-field around the wounded andalite and started bringing him somewhere, with the other two andalites trailing.
Then he spotted a human male. Maybe they knew...
"Excuse me sir!", Ogreon walked up to the human, "My name is Ambassador Ogreon, I was wondering; do you know the location of a certain Lieutenant Colonel Vogefac?"
-
<Efaen and I are fine, sir. Mar seems to be very weak from his exertion, but is being tended to. Hopefully all he really needs is rest and possibly nutrition. I don't know about the other people in the bar that may have been inside when the ship crashed. I didn't look, but hopefully it didn't land on anyone. Corliss' ship has landed, and I doubt they suffered any harm. We're going to the Mirage to heal you. I don't know if you'll need to remain conscious to let us in or not. This is Theta Pi, by the way. I can debrief you on him later.>
-
Illim ducks and lets out an expletive as another chunk of wood, evidently part of a rafter beam, flies past him. "What the hell is this place?" he demands of Corliss, looking warily behind him before straightening again.
His attention is caught by a newcomer who enters the building as if it isn't strange that it's reassembling itself around her. He gives Corliss a sour "what gives?" expression.
-
The Bartender eventually slid Van the drink he was after, and the Beryllian tipped his head back, and began drinking heavily. He made great gulps of the stuff, as the alien drink surged down his throat like bubbling flam. Aaah, now that's the stuff!
He drank like a man dying of thirst, and within a few minutes, he was done. Van turned the cup upside down, and slammed it back on the bar.
"Whooo... That was niiiice. Mm, a local variation, what kind of spice was that?!"
It was a rhetorical question, really, and without waiting for an answer of any kind from the still-glaring Bartender, Van spun around in his stool, only to realize the wall was... rebuilding? Stupefied, Van began to wonder if he was drunk. Really, getting drunk on one glass was hard thing to do, since a single glass usually just jolts the senses, while about two or three in begins deadening them.
But Van wasn't so sure himself, whether he was drunk or not he figured, somehow, that he was drunk. Especially since some of those splinters were crawling like inchworms. Quickly, Van began to wonder if his little snack of woodchips was so good after all... And also what the heck those spices in the drink he ordered were.
"Excuse me sir!", cried one of the patrons. Perhaps to Van? The man was bizarre in appearance, with multiple legs. I wasn't that he hasn't seen his fair share of species with multiple legs, more that he didn't recognize this particular one.
"My name is Ambassador Ogreon, I was wondering; do you know the location of a certain Lieutenant Colonel Vogefac?"
Ah, so I can understand him. Weird.
"What, me? I'm just Van Aldbaran," Van responded. He leaned against the Bar, and winced as his right leg made a complaint at the gesture. Van coughed, "Last I checked, guys like you shouldn't be talking to guys like me. I don't have any idea what happens to anyone in the Navy, either."
-
" I guess I should be happy for the 'living when you really shouldn't' thing. At least that's good... But... I'm not totally happy with the 'mind of it's own' thing. That sounds... like some creepy sci-fi movie. Which... is actually a pretty good description of what's going on here, now that I think about it....."
Jasper's jaw dropped at the thing that Salem showed them. "...that's... a .. what?" He couldn't believe it. That was just too cool! This was... a Philosopher's Stone? Er... Jar? ...Thing? That wasn't supposed to be possible! But then again, who was he to say otherwise. He didn't know if he *wanted* it, but he certainly wanted to play with it, at least for a while. "Okay, I knew the stuff you had all over the place was cool, but.. that's just... too awesome! What other kinds of gadgety things have you got here?" He felt like a kiddie in a toy store, set loose with his momma's credit card.
-
"Thanks, man," Adam says to the bartender as he sets down his Guiness. He takes a long drink, then puts down his glass.
He glances over his shoulder at the... ah... person Van speaks to. He shrugs. "Sorry. Haven't seen much of anybody. I only woke up a few minutes ago."
Adam opens the medkit, stares at it for a moment, then slides it toward Van. "You know what you need out of this?"
-
|OGREON|
Suddenly self-conscious, Ogreon glanced at his many legs and inhuman anatomy, "Who, me? If you're talking about the linguistic barrier, I have a Universal Translator chip implanted in my brain. It translates both ways. You can understand me, I understand you. But the Clangst language is very similar to English anyway. And Vogefac isn't in the Human navy...he's a Reptilinod."
He turned to the other man, "It's quite alright...I'm starting to get the feeling he wasn't even here. Wait...woke up? How did you get here?"
-
"Oh, I got here on a ship. I just..." Adam gestures awkwardly. "Kind of... nodded off." He smiles sheepishly. "I'll keep an eye out for your friend... er... what exactly does a Reptilinod look like?"
-
|OGREON|
Ogreon brought his two fingered hand to his head in a very human gesture, "Forgive me, I forgot that I was in another universe where the Reptilinod do not exist. Reptilinod are tall, yellow reptilian creatures. Outwardly they could probably be compared to a Hork-Bajir; blades. They have two acute-angle horns, 2 foot claws on their hands, 6 spikes on their back and a large sickle-like toe on their foot. And thank you for your assurances..."
He stood there, not sure what to do...
"How do you fall asleep at the helm?", he asked out of pure curiosity.
-
"Eh, a Reptilinoid? Never heard of one, so I guess it's the wrong Navy we're talking about here?"
Van shrugged, confused. Exactly where was he? It was beginning to bother him, as most of the Bar's patrons were... Well he only really recognized the Humans.
The guy beside him, however, was more helpful. He slid the medkit down the Bar as asked, "You know what you need out of this?"
Van glanced inside and searched around. There was what felt like equal parts 'things he recognized, yet didn't need' and 'things he didn't recognize and may have needed'. Groaning, Van piped up, "Uh, any pain killers? I'll need to make a splint for my right leg, I guess. I think it might be fractured, but I'm not sure. The left leg, I think, is bruised..."
Van mumbled sourly as he pulled out a small knife from the kit, and gripped the handle in his mouth. Then, he carefully made his way off the bar stool, and sat down on the floor. He leaned over towards his bloodied, right leg, and began to cut at the right of his pants, revealing the leg underneath.
Van winced as soon as he saw it. Bloody, though most of the shrapnel was gone. Most of the pain he was feeling must be coming from the splinters still worming their way out of his skin. "Ugh, disgusting," Van snorted, "Why'd I think it was a good idea to try eating that wood, anyways? Ah, zhon!"
I just hope it doesn't come crawling up, Van thought, Ah, that makes me feel sick! But I don't feel anything wrong with my stomach.. Although my chest feels bruised. Fun stuff.
He finished cutting away the pant leg, which revealed the injury for all to see. Seeing it didn't make him feel better. As he threw the fabric aside, Van got a feeling that something was "off" around here. "I need to get back up and walking as fast as possible," he muttered to himself, "I have a feeling it'll be pretty important... That, and I need my gun. I don't feel safe, now."
Glancing back up at the stools where the creature asking about a Reptilinoid Lieutenant and the guy who handed him the medkit were, Van couldn't help but overhear the conversation. He shuddered at the thought of running into a Reptilinoid, especially in this condition. The Reptilian creatures he has ran into lacked blades, but certainly had claws. And they could secrete a burning acid from their skin when angered... or aroused.
Speaking of arousal, Van scanned the area for females. Why not? Girls would love to help out a pretty little fellow like him... Then he shook his head, and pulled up an alcohol wipe from the kit. Gah. Is there any better way to clean these wounds?
-
Adam nods, ignoring for the moment the bit about "another universe." He furrows his brow. "I didn't fall asleep at the helm. I fell asleep in here. Well after I landed." He glances at the hole in the wall. "Erm... for the record, that--" he points at the destroyed wall--"wasn't me."
He turns to Van. "I can check my ship. Might have another medkit with something more useful in it for you."
-
Van looks up, and grins widely, "Awesome! I'd pay you, but since I can't imagine currency exchange here being easy, from the sound of it, I can pay you in Vivalite. I'll... Uh, considering the circumstances, I find you a good vial-nyah."
Then, he points to the wreckage, "And, eheh... That's my ship over there. Uh, I guess it's less that I fell asleep at the helm, and more like something dragged me over here." He paused, and furrowed his brow.
"I swear! It was like a gravity well or... something."
-
"I see...", Ogreon said. He looked at the wall.
"A gravity well you say? Intriguing! At what coordinates were they? Maybe my ship can find out what it was. It's a purely scientific vessel withsesor array galore!"
-
"Don't worry about it." Adam slides off his stool. "I don't even know what's in it at the moment. We, uh, kind of left in a hurry. Anyway, I'll be right back." Adam leaves the bar, hesitating a moment at the opening before going through.
Adam reaches his bug fighter and opens the hatch. When he enters the ship, he searches for the medkit. He finds it buried in a compartment and pulls it out, blowing dust off the top. He stands up and starts to leave the ship but stops at the makeshift Yeerk pool. He can see Carris swimming around in the sludge. He curls his hand around the edge for a moment, watching. Finally, he sighs and leaves the ship, heading back toward the bar.
-
The many-legged creature seemed slightly disappointed at the other man's comment that he wasn't the one who crash-landed, but once Van mentioned the possible gravity well, his whole body appeared to light up with excitement. Then again, anyone with a scientifically-tuned ship would be the sort of person to salivate over gravitational anomalies.
Van chuckled in response, "Well, the problem is, I have no idea! All my onboard systems are shot, and once I'm well, I'll pop in and do repairs. Although, from the looks of it..." Van frowned, staring at the area where he crashed, "I don't know if the systems were able to record the coordinates anyways. They got pretty fried when I was ripped from warp. Heck, I nearly got fried. I got a bad deal on that computer... Ugh, zhon."
He shrugged, and continues, "Regardless, I don't think I'll be warping out any time soon, though. The problem being, I think this place's unique gravitic properties is what pulled me here in the first place. I think I'm pretty much anchored in."
(("Zhon", if you'd like know, is just his native way of saying "Stupid me". There's a whole rank of honorifics and variants in Beryllian, but I'm sure all that will be asked about in-character later.))
-
|OGREON|
"How odd...hmm...", Ogreon pondered, "My ship has been orbiting the asteroid from a not-so-great distance this whole time and it hasn't encountered any anomalies. At least...I don't think so. They would have notified me..."
He pulled out a small display device. He pushed a few buttons and was keyed into the status of all systems on the ship. He sighed in relief. Then he slowly looked up.
"Wait, warp? Did you say "warping out"? Are you a member of the Federation?"
-
"What?! A member?! Hell no! My life is spent ruining the Oligarchy's lives!"
Van shook his head, and began counting on his fingers, "I deliver illegal goods, traffic people out of their junky little colonies, battle some of their ships. Oh, and I provide Vivalite to the masses, run spices past the taxmen... And services of all kinds, chaa." He makes a fist, and grins, "I'm what you'd call a Pirate. Although I can do other things, for a price. Just not for known member of the upper class. They're all fools."
The pirate strung his finger through his long blond hair, and stopped at the red wrap tied around it. He glanced up at the alien, and raised his eyebrow, "Gonna arrest me, chaa? I'm sure Mar-zhen would be soooo thrilled to see me again!"
"Heheh. I just happen to have an upper-class ship. Stole it rather easily myself, mind you. Warp drives are few and far where I'm from, just buying one will set you back quite a bit. And maintenance, when needed, is incredibly expensive... And... Ugh. I need to repair that-nyah."
-
Mar stumbles awkwardly toward the Bar entrance, eventually opting to just sit in the middle of the grass. This plan of his is absolutely not working. He feels terrible. Mar breathes in carefully, wincing as an odd bright blue projection appears on his left side and then disappears. Mar glances at Elayne and states,
"...you're right, Elayne. I don't think going much farther would benefit me. My....efforts for Ossanlin...have damaged my connection to this body. Kindness does not flatter the Prince, no?"
Mar chuckles at this thought. "...yet I had no choice. He would have..." Mar grasps at his chest again. "...died without my help."
-
Adam enters the bar again, crossing back to the counter. "Here," he says, setting the medkit down on the bar. "Hopefully there's something in there that can help you. Like I said, I'm not real sure what's in there."
-
<This is just way too weird.> Derrel said. Even Illim found it weird, and he already knew about aliens and other planets and all that crap. <They're running off with that Ossanlin guy.> He said, having noticed when Illim was looking around.
-
|OGREON|
Ogreon took a step or two back. One question and this human had gone into a short tirade.
"I...think it's safe to assume we aren't talking about the same Federation. I was referring to the United Federation of Planets. Their starfleet vessels use Warp drive. Your warp drive might not even be the same. Since I don't know where you come from, I can't bring you to your authorities. Plus, I'm an Ambassador, I don't arrest people."
After thinking for a while he spoke up again, "My ship's energy reserves are immense, like most Alliance ships. If you need equipment, I'm sure we can replicate some for you."
-
Ossanlin processes the information. <So no one is harmed then? Good. I think that Okaru will not bother us for some time. I am quite...fatigued.> Ossanlin takes a few deep breaths in silence before continuing. <Who is Theta-Pi? You mean the Andalite?> Ossanlin keeps one stalk eye on Claxter and the other on the strange, mechanized Andalite.
-
<Yes sir, the cyborg Andalite is Theta Pi. He's a friend I managed to save from some sort of computer entity called the Alvie. It takes creatures, gives them mechanical enhancements, and strips them of all individuality and identity. The Andalite's real name is Gremytt, but he still wishes to be called Theta Pi.>
-
Efaen watches as Claxter and Theta-Pi cart Ossanlin off. She hesitates, not entirely sure that she wishes to join them, but recognizing that she still requires clearance from Ossanlin regarding her defection to the rebellion. She begins to follow them slowly, leaving plenty of distance in between herself and the other Andalites.
Strange, she notes, I have never felt separate from my people before. Yet here I am, uncomfortable being in their presence.
Terenia does not respond to Corliss, and after a few minutes she is fairly sure he is gone, although she has no way of knowing for sure. She waits, trying to force herself to think about anything but the suffocating pool or the paralyzing blindness.
He'll come back... she hopes, scrunch-thrusting irritably.
Trey watches the wall rebuild itself in awe. He had seen a few small damages being repaired since arriving, but this was an entire wall. Nervously, he glances at the bartender, wondering, not for the first time, just exactly what the bar was.
"A pirate?" Trey asks, Van's little speech distracting him. He has heard the term before, of course, but it only brings up vague memories of bearded men with wooden legs. Silly stories that were told in the barracks when the Andalites wanted to show off human stupidity.
-
Salem grinned. He thought that might grab this pair's attention. When Jasper asked what else he had, Salem started looking around- but he caught sight of the shapes of Mar and those around him on the ship's wall. Ossanlin was being moved as well.
"Actually," he said with a stutter, "I should be out there." He turned back to Al, "Al, can you show him some of the stuff we could offer?"
Al laughed, "Totally."
"Thanks," Salem said, and without another word he jogged down the ship's ramp and towards Mar. As he approached, he called, "Elayne! What exactly happened here?"
Al watched Salem leave and turned back to Jasper, "Well, Salem's a bit of a junk collector, but most of what he keeps is actually pretty sweet stuff. I guess what to give you guys depends on what you're into. Salem's got some Sparkle-Be-Good clothing that I could give you. He won't be happy about that, but he's not here to say no, and I think you'd look fabulous." He made a rectangle with his fingers and looked through it at Jasper, pretending it was a camera. "Totally fashionable, and the technology needed to weave it isn't something the Yeerks have. There's a ton of Furka stuff around here, if y'all like having fun. The technology of fun is pretty impressive where I come from. I know fun isn't for everyone, so Salem has picked up a lot of 'useful' junk as well." He made quotations marks with his fingers as he said the word 'useful.'
He continued looking around, pointing out some objects the shelves, "This is a Heprumei EZSplice miniature genetic engineering lab. This one's a Magneton Redirector" he said, indicating an object that looked like a cross between a magic wand and one of those long lighters with the trigger ignition. "For some reason Salem likes to collect tons of these things. Mmm... this is a combination small animal viewer and time acceleration evolution study chamber. I call it "Jeffry." This guy," he said, holding up a silverish wafer of electronics, "is a hologram projector that I finished recently. It's equivalent to my hologram generator, but it works on you guys- it can make you look like pretty much anything. We actually had to test it on a... um... bounty hunter person earlier, so I know it works. It just doesn't beat non-visual sensors, so it's not quite up to my internal projectors' standards yet. I'm still working on being able to build Pemalite-quality stuff. Um... man, I guess a lot of the stuff on the shelves here is fair game for you guys."
He turned back to them and continued listing things on his fingers that weren't on the shelves, "And some of our more fragile and valuable stuff isn't actually out here. I think I could let you have an Allstone, or a pair of hover boots like the ones Salem's wearing- those things are a blast, by the way- or a personal shield. If you want, most of what's in the computer banks is actually stuff that could be used to enhance your ship. How'd you guys feel about having the first Yeerk ship with Mohemian monomolecular resonance canceling armor? Mmm... that one might be out of your price range, actually, based on this trade. At least we could tweak your systems or whatever to make them do stuff that Yeerk ships can't normally do. We've got ways to enhance you physically... well, at least the human one of you... and ways to enhance most of the technology you're carrying if need be. Um..." He stopped and smiled sheepishly at Jasper. "I'm rambling. It's all about what interests you."
-
Van took in the alien's calm explanation, and nodded. That's right, he said he was an ambassador. False alarm, especially since he came from... a different Federation? A curious notion, but Van chose to ignore it for now.
"Huh, energy reserves, you say? Well, hopefully it will be compatible..."
Van looked down and fiddled with his hair.
"A pirate?" he heard someone ask. Van looked up, bewildered, "Well, if 'pirate' isn't the term to use, I guess, uh... 'Outlaw' would work."
He glances off, and then asks, "Where exactly is this bar?"
-
((Oops, you've been having a convo with an alien IN the bar the whole time. :P))
-
((You're outside? Yup, Van's inside it. LOL And yes, Ogreon's one heckuva alien! He's in two places at once now?))
Still unsure as to where he is, or how another Federation could exist, Van tried to shrug it off. But, every time he looked around, it came back to him: he was someplace completely else.
He didn't recognize any of the species around him, such as the many-legged alien Ambassador, Ogreon, right? Yes, that was his name. The shock of hearing him speak a recognizable language, translator or no, was a jolt. Translators always did that sort of thing, though. Ogreon, for example, looked as if speaking any common language Van knew was downright impossible due to his anatomy. But, this translator was an amazing piece of technology, and let whatever native language Ogreon spoke come out as a mixture of Beryllian and Terran-gi.
Van smiled to himself. Ogreon was lucky. The translation devices he knew of weren't nearly this sophisticated.
Though Van's leg was throbbing, it seemed that the splinters had all ... crawled their way out. He reached for the scrap of cloth he cute from his pants, and calmly began to blot up his injuries, "Well, I guess I should be glad that nobody knows me here..."
-
Adam blinks. "Pirate?" He shakes his head and busies himself with digging through the medkit. He squints at the labels. Naturally it's all in Yeerkish. Great. This is a moment he wishes Carris was there. Adam sighs, and holds out a vial to Van. "I think this is a painkiller."
-
Van raised an eyebrow, "You say that you think this is a painkiller. Oy..."
He took the vial, and shrugged, "Well, we'll see if it works, then! I just, uh...?"
The vial, though small, provided no hint as to how to use it. Dumbly, Van decided just to open it and take a whiff- the smell was disorienting. He cringed, "All right, how do I use this?"
He looked up at Adam, and pleaded, "Please don't tell me I have to drink it, chaa."
-
Adam digs through the medkit, looking for some other clue. He starts taking everything out, stacking it on the bar, looking for something that looked like it might go with the vial. Nothing. "Okay," he says slowly. "Either you're supposed to drink it, or... whatever you're supposed to use with it is lost."
-
Van gulped. If it required a syringe, he had syringes. Problem was, they were all on his ship, and wouldn't be easily accessible. That, and they were filled with something else.
He closed his eyes, and nodded. In all likelihood, considering the packaging, it wasn't meant to be injected. He would have preferred a needle, at any rate. Van gulped again, and examined the bottle once more. Liquid. No syringe. He had to drink it.
"Well, I suppose I should... swallow it, then. I'd make some overly dramatic formal statement about this possibly being the last minute of my life, but the thought repulses me. That's it. I'm Van Aldbaran, and here's to... Bad-smelling medicine. Ah, zhon."
The space pirate held his nose, put the vial to his mouth, and drank. It was definitely a gamble, since neither he, nor the man who handed him the vial, knew the dosage requirements...
-
((Oops, double misunderstanding, lol! When you said "Where is this Bar" I thought were said "Where is the bar". I thought YOU were outside. Okay, everything's fine...:P ))
|OGREON|
Ogreon watched as the man took drank the liquid.
"If it doesn't work, my ship has an immense sick-bay. It's one of the greater benefits of having a large ship that is mostly devoted to science.", he laughed.
He noticed that some of the man's language wasn't coming through the translator.
"What...what does zhon mean?"
-
After drinking up as much as he could, Van coughed, hard. He dropped the vial, gripped his throat, and suppressed a gag. The flavor was... indescribable, and not in a good way, either.
"For the record, guys, never make me drink that again. Can't even begin to describe what that... uh, 'experience' was like..."
He stuck his tongue out, and tried to relax as the thick, syrupy liquid made its way down his throat. The aftertaste was equally repulsive, but he tried hard to keep it all down.
"Ugh... a...a zhon? Ugh, just the Beryllian phrase for ... ah... Uh, the closest approximation is 'stupid me'. Basically, I feel like an idiot. Just don't say side effects include death or something, chaa."
(("Chaa" for that matter is a semi-meaningless word. It's like saying "yeah" after every other sentence and is a filler word, in a way. The guy has a pretty strong accent, but I'm trying hard not to preserve his less-than-understandable pronunciations of his second language. "Shut up!", for example, comes off as the very bizarre "Shat ahp".))
-
((Mod note: Guys, please, keep out of character (OOC), "double parentheses" comments to the OOC thread. Thanks.))
Slivers of the bar start to worm their way back towards the shifted and slumped half of the building, as rafters prop back into place and foundation rebuilds.
The ship, sticking with its body half inside the bar and half covered in pieces of it, shudders and lifts up off the ground. It is deposited just outside the perimeter of the bar, its butt end sticking into the trees.
The bar wall continues to melt back into its normal shape, free of obtrusions, hoisting the building back into something resembling normality.
A last few straggling pieces of wood shiver and squirm across the gravel, hurrying to rejoin the rest.
Corliss watches all this impossibility, feeling a bit numb.
"Illim?" he squeaks. "Are you...um...are you seeing this?"
-
Jagill was looking through the scanners at the bar. "The bar is pushing the ship out by itsself. That's a strong bar. Maybe we don't need to help after all."
-
Ewa sips at her drink and watches people's reactions quietly.
So this place is not supposed to be reconstructing itself. Figures I would get a first reaction wrong. At least no one seems to care that much.
More annoying was the general lack of direction. For the moment things seemed somewhat focused on the ugly ship and its pirate, but they had just destroyed the only permanent building in the area. Where was she supposed to be? Why were there so many non-humans around?
If everything else was a mess though, she had to admire the pirate. She had gotten a good look at his leg and not only was he truly wounded, but the damage went fairly deep. That was impressive dedication. Maybe it would be best to incorporate with some guidance.
She turns to Adam, who seemed to have the most knowledge of the scene at hand.
"Hey," she nods towards the barkeeper, "do you think that he could get me something besides a drink or a med kit? Say, a change of clothes maybe?"
The gray shift she was wearing matched her eyes, skin and hair. It marked her as a newcomer to the scape. It was also extremely inappropriate to remain in it any longer than absolutely necessary. So much time had already passed that everyone probably thought she was a novice.
-
Adam watches Van, half expecting him to have some sort of violent reaction to whatever was in the vial. Feeling more than a little relieved when that appears to not be happening, he turns to the person addressing him.
"You're probably better off asking a patron." He jerks his thumb at the bartender. "He doesn't seem to talk, as far as I can tell. Least he hasn't said a word since I got here."
-
Thankfully for Van, whatever was in the vial didn't appear to be killing him. In fact it seemed to be working. That is, if one could call their legs suddenly, and violently, tingling like they were asleep 'working'...
"I think this painkiller's working... too well. Aw, visht! I can't feel my toes anymore, chaaa."
Van groaned and looked up at Adam, "Don't tell me I overdosed..."
Van glanced back where his ship was, in hopes that he could crawl over and maybe get inside to retrieve the Vivalite for his own use. But, much to his surprise, the ship was gone! In fact, the wall was perfectly intact again, and the booths had apparently moved (on their own?!) back where they should be.
"Dwah? Wh-wh-where's my ship...?"
Van sat there, staring at the wall dumbly for quite a while. It just didn't make any sense. Though he wasn't experiencing terrible side effects,it probably was a good thing he wasn't doing anything at the moment, either.
-
|OGREON|
Ogreon looked surprised, "You don't know where you parked?"
-
Van blinked at Ogreon, and shook his head, "Ah... n-no. It's not like I don't know where it landed, just that..." He squinted at the wall, turning his head in curiosity, "My ship, it was sticking out through that wall. Which is a wall... again."
Trying to discern the situation, Van leaned over, and tried to pull himself up. His legs, however, were still tingling like crazy. That and, his right leg was still out of commission. However one would put it, the result was the same: Van's legs flailed everywhere, and he smacked into the floor again.
"Ow."
-
Hmmm.... the bartender did look overly taciturn. Surely "Adam" wasn't saying she was so incompetent that she should stay dressed this way any longer than necessary....
While Ewa was ruminating, Van took the opportunity to fall down. Twice. Maybe Adam was not the character she should be asking for help if this is what "help" looked like.
She gets down beside Van and offers him her hand. "Here, let me help you up. You were trying to get to your ship?"
Really, Ewa was tempted to call it a "monstrous lump of a ship", but maybe that's what they were all supposed to look like. It would be best to minimize the opportunities she gave herself to screw up.
-
Adam rubs the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, I--" He reaches over and picks up the now empty vial, examining it. He sighs. "I'm, uh, not really much of a doctor." He looks toward the now reconstructed door, grimacing. "Maybe I should find someone who's better at reading this stuff then I am. Someone who actually knows medical terms in Yeerkish."
-
|OGREON|
The centipede-like creature noted that the wall of the bar was actually regenerating.
"Perhaps the wall pushed the ship back out?", Ogreon conjectured.
Listening as Adam apologizes, Ogreon pipes up, "As I said, if you need any medical assistance, my ship has a medical bay at least 5 times the volume of the bar. I'm sure we can..."
Ogreon heard the last word to come out of Adam's sentence, "Yeerkish? As in...Yeerk?"
-
Adam's lips twitch into a good-natured smile. "You know another species that uses it? Yeah, as in Yeerk. Mine, Carris, is on our ship at the moment. As I said, he's more well-versed in this stuff than I am."
-
Soon after he fell, Van was approached by what looked like a Human. And not just any kind of Human... a female Human. She spoke to him, "Here, let me help you up. You were trying to get to your ship?"
Why'd it take so long for some chick to help me out?! Van thought excitedly, Hey, she's kinda cute! She has this great doe-eyed thing going on... I kinda like that.
Van blushed in response, and laughed, "Anh, yeah, I was trying to get to my ship. But, I'm kind of... Stuck. Ahem. My name's Van. Van Aldbaran. And it's a pleasure."
He grinned, and glanced in the direction where his ship was, "I'm not yet in any kind of shape for entertainment of any kind, but you're helping. Say, maybe Ogreon can check me into his sick bay first, and I'll see about letting you check out my ship later, hm?"
Van finally felt like he was back in his element. Hitting on women, heck, hitting on anyone, was something he definitely enjoyed doing. Although, his preferences were squarely targeted at females. And, seeing this one made his day feel a lot less confusing.
-
Finally, something classic to respond to.
Ewa smiles and shifts her grip, pretending to struggle with the weight as she snakes her arm around Van's waist. Practical enough, given the situation.
"The pleasure's all mine. As far as entertainment goes though, you might want to consider changing your hobbies. Everyone seems to have been enthralled watching this place reconstruct itself, but you're not fairing so well. Next time you try to be entertaining, you might aim for something a little less hazardous. Shall I just help you to the sick bay then?"
She turns to Ogreon to make sure he has no objections to her offer. Yeerk... I know that from somewhere...
-
"What does that mean, 'damaged your connection to the body'?" Elayne follows Mar and kneels by him, frowning in concern. At hearing someone call her name, she looks up, putting a hand on Mar's shoulder.
"Salem," she says, more for the purpose of remembering his name after their brief conversation than for acknowledging him. "A fight, evidently," she raises dark eyebrows. "Of course, Ossanlin got the brunt of it again, but they're taking care of him," she jerks her head in the Andalite's direction.
"Yeah," Illim nods uneasily to Corliss. "F***in' weird," he mutters. <<Yeah,>> he responds to Derrel. <<Despite what I may know about aliens, I've never seen anything like that.>>
As a newcomer to the scene calls attention to himself, Illim shakes himself from his distraction. "Corliss. Isn't that..." he points to Salem.
-
Corliss nods faintly. "It is. Um. Salem, whatcher doin' there, then?" He winces, torn between the splintered building and the humanoid creature.
-
|OGREON|
Ogreon looked sick. Or at least in a Clangst wat he did.
"You're a willing controller!? That's...that's...", he stammers, trying to keep his recently finished drink IN his stomach, "That's...I don't want to be rude but the most apt word I can think of apt the moment is...disgusting. Although disconcerting would be more politically correct."
He turned quickly to Van and the new human female, not wanting to turn his back to Adam, "My ship is in orbit, we will beam up as soon as possible, and get you to my sickbay."
He whipped back around to face Adam, worried he had pulled a Dracon or something dangerous out of it's holster.
-
"Yes," Adam says simply. "I am." He isn't smiling anymore. He doesn't look particularly angry, though, either. "I wouldn't be standing here freely talking to you if I weren't, would I?" He turns away and picks up his glass, finishing his beer.
-
Van felt ill just watching Ogreon move like that, "Okay, seriously, Ogreon, can you slow down there? I think all this movement is making me a little sick... That, or it must be those stupid woodchips..."
He looked up at that the woman who had helped him up, and tried to smile, "Sorry if that sounded a little.. ah, well, foul. No two ways around it, I guess. Nothing to do with you; you're making me feel better, actually. Seriously!"
Van paused, and then asked her, "So, what's your name, lovely?"
-
Salem nodded at Elayne and knelt down next to Mar, "Yeah, I saw some of the little battle they had. I'd be chasing the War-Prince, but he thought I was trying to kill him last time, so I don't think I should be around this time while he's... recovering." He looked Mar in the eye, then looked back at Elayne, "It didn't look like Mar was involved in their fight." He frowned as he looked down at Mar, "What is it you did, Highest?"
At Corliss's call, he turned to face the Yeerk and called back, "Hey! If you're coming to your senses and want to talk business, it might have to wait a bit." His face showed a slight smirk as he spoke.
-
|OGREON|
Taking a slight step back, Ogreon thought about How the conversation had abruptly ended. Not wanted tomleave Adam on a negative note, he said, "I'm sorry but...my people went through a long war with the Yeerks. Ever since the first Andalite warned us of their existence, the've attacked...well, thats not entirely true. We deafeated them in the war, but from the time the Andalite warned us until the end of the war they were our worst enemies. I guess thats not you though.."
The clangst turned and stood next to Van and the woman, "Are you ready to beam up?"
-
Elayne always finds it disconcerting when people call Mar by one of his titles. It's a reminder of how different he is, and of how he might be taken away from her, even pretty soon, considering what he might be telling her.
She considers telling Salem to leave Mar alone, but she doubts she can give any kind of short response to his question that the man would see as sufficiently explanatory, so she remains quiet and hopes he is distracted by the newcomers to the conversation.
Illim seems to make up his mind more easily than Corliss and starts heading towards Salem, eyes narrow, hand ready for quick access to his new Dracon.
-
"I'm Ewa," she replies without thinking, then freezes. WHAT?! Ewa.... I said my name was.... what would possess me to give my real name? Her thoughts race backward, but there's nothing there. She knew she had been dropped in here underprepared, but to not even have an assigned name... even if she had ended up in the wrong scape she should have a name, the tiniest of background stories--something!--sitting at the surface of her subconscious mind, but there was nothing!
Dread starts to creep through her system. Something is very wrong here. Someone had messed up something, somewhere, and whether it had been her or someone else, she was now flailing blindly for her place...
Ogreon's question catches her by surprise. Ewa felt he had said something terribly relevant for plot or world building, but couldn't focus on it. Still, it was probably best to continue as she started, so she nods politely and smiles in response to his question.
If they let me tag along long enough, I'll be able to figure something out even without a name and backstory.
-
"No, that's not me." Adam smiles wryly. "We're just two people trying to get through things like everybody else." He shrugs. He's used to this sort of reaction by now.
He starts putting the medkit in order, then closes it. "Anyone needs anything in there and can read it better than I can, tell 'em it's all theirs." He pushes away from the bar, excusing himself.
He exits the bar, passing more people, and someone who looks like he's hurt. He slows for a second, then keeps walking, figuring medical help's probably not the best thing for him to be doing.
Adam wanders around the area near the bar, passing his and Carris' ship, but still not ready for that. He stops near edge of the trees. If there's life around here, he reasons, there's got to be water, right? Assuming that things like that work the way he thinks they do, which is probably expecting too much.
Still, he can't keep standing around looking the way he does, so he starts off into the trees, hoping to find a lake or a river or something.
-
Corliss follows Illim, now that most of the splinters of wood and glass have made their way back to the reconstructed bar.
He gives the Skimmer another quick glance, affirming that it's locked and sealed even though he knows he locked and sealed the hull.
"Illim, wait up mate," he calls, drawing his own Dracon as he jogs to catch up to him and Salem.
-
Salem left, and Al began showcasing several of the items stored here and there.
<<Can you make him be quite? My head hurts...>>
<<Don't you mean my head?>> Jasper said, without even stopping to think that his head wasn't, in fact, hurting.
<<What? I don't... shut up, okay.>>
<<Whatever little buddy. I'll uh.. try to finish with him pretty quick.>>
"Whoa, whoa, go back a second. You... I could... have a hologram projector? ...Wow, that's like... so Star Trek. Or... was it Star Trek?" He asks himself, trailing off to try and remember. He quickly snaps himself back to the moment. "Anyways, that... that would be really cool. Does it work on other stuff, too? Like... can you just use it as a projector? How do you work it? Like.. how do you control it, what if makes, and stuff?" His creative juices were flowing rapidly, imagining all the possible uses of something like that. Just think of all the things that he could make with that. If it was half as good as Al made it out to be, then this would be the greatest design tool ever. Now, granted, it wouldn't be as... useful, as something that went beyond the virtual representation, but still. His mind was bouncing at least a dozen different ways that something the size of a toaster waffle ((...is that right?)) could be controlled to do the things he was being told it could. "Could you... uh, show me?"
<< Yeah, yeah, get your toy, then let's get out of here.>>
<<You're grumpy when you're crazy.>>
<<I'm not off my block anymore... am I?>>
<<No, you're fine. I'm just... sorry, it wasn't that funny after all.>>
-
"Ewa? Mmm, that's a lovely name, Ewa," replied Van with a grin.
He glanced back at Ogreon, and nodded at him, "Yeanh, I'm ready to head up. I hope your med bay can service Humanoids, chaa."
Then, Van realized that what he said was a little silly. After all, it sounded like this guy captained of a government ship of some kind. And obviously, it would have to be accessible to any species represented in that government, or else it wouldn't be useful for Ogreon or anyone else assigned a ship like that.
Van shook his head, and added, "Ah, zhon! Of course it would work, I mean, you have humanoids in your government, right? That or, humanoids to experiment on... I don't mind being a test subject. Just don't freak Ewa out, mmchaa?"
-
|OGREON|
He nodded and turned to my communicator, "Ogreon to Urtahn, prepare for beam up."
"Aye, sir.", my transporter chief said.
Ogreon faced ewa, "Are you ready to beam up?"
|THETA-PI|
We deposited the Ossanlin unit on the ground adjacent to the ship Claxter had referred to as the Mirage.
<Where are your regeneration units?>, We asked Claxter, but our telepathic frequency was open for all in the immediate area to hear.
-
"I won't get started on my history, let's just say the Galactic Federation I know is less 'Federation' and more 'Corrupt Oligarchy'. Sweet little euphemisms like that are pretty common where I'm from. ....hardly "galactic', but people like that part. Puh."
Not wanting to drown in his cynicism, Van chose to listen to Ogreon's explanation. Even for him, the whole concept of a working transporter was still in the realm of science fiction. The only race he knew that was capable of "beaming" anywhere were the Thyllians, and the Thyllians were energy beings. But, to cross that threshold... Van was excited about the experience, if not also a little nervous.
Van glanced at the transporter, and grinned, "Just make sure the flies don't get in, chaa? All right... I guess I'll, uh, crawl on in."
He wiggled a bit to tell Ewa to release him, and then he slumped to the ground. Van suddenly realized what a big help she was, his legs were still tingling like mad. He didn't look forward to the slight "tickling" Ogreon described.
However, he had to press on. Thus Van, still in awe at the transporter technology, crawled his way into the area Ogreon indicated. He wasn't going to ask about "Yeerks" quite yet. Nor did he want to question the logic of grass outside a space Bar on a small planetoid. Van decided that those things will have to be dealt with later, after he was able to walk again...
-
Al blinked and grabbed the projector off the shelf. "You wanna use it to... project holograms? Alright, that's a pretty simple tweak, actually, but it might take you more practice to get right. Normal setting on this thing is personal appearance alteration. If you're gonna take it, I guess I'll give you a pad with instructions on how to use it. It's controlled by thought commands, and it'll smooth and correct the images it receives from you, so that it generally does what you want it to do, rather than just the sporadic things your mind tells it." He held it out to Jasper, "Here, if you hold it for a second, I'll program it to recognize your commands."
-
"Well.... yeah, I guess. Is that okay, or...." Jasper had no clue about what he was wanting. He didn't have any idea what this little silver thing was supposed to do, or how it worked really. Holograms were something that Obi-Wan Kenobi played with, not a guy like him. Apparently he was going against the norm with his intended use of this device, but the possibilities were endless! Imagine all of the things he could create with it! An artistic rendering device with this kinda of power.... He takes hold of the waffle wafer and says, "Okay, now what?"
-
The device Al had handed Jasper had a keypad on one side, written in the Atazin galactic language. Al spent a few seconds punching things into it while it was in Jasper's hand, then stood back and grinned.
"Now, just concentrate on what you want to display. Thing should have a range of ten or twenty feet. It might take some practice to get things to come out the way you want them, but once the projection's up, you can tweak it however you like. You can set that down or whatever," he said, nodding at the device. "I actually built in a belt-clip on the back there. As long as it's nearby, it'll take your thought commands at the moment. Just visualize what you want and try to direct the thought at the projector."
-
Mar groans, lifting himself up to look at the newcomer. Mar groans and stares at Salem with mysteriously bright blue eyes upon seeing who it is. This was the idiot he had been planning to dupe in revenge for Ossanlin earlier. And the person with connections to groups that had machines that could read a Highest. He wasn't sure what he thought of the trader, nor how dangerous he was.
Mar winces and rubs his head, eventually replying with, "I...sent energy from my soul reserves...to the War-Prince. This was...not very clever of me, Salem. Such an action is very...altruistic for the Devil Mass. It brought on...mana I can no longer handle. I'm sick. Do you think anything in your stupid bag of tricks can fix that?"
-
Ewa wondered why Van had pulled away when her only real excuse for going to Ogreon's ship was her ability to act as a sentient crutch. Not that it sounded like he would need any kind of support for the journey, and this was all probably an excuse to get her out of this place and reintegrated with the storyline before returning. Gods, how embarrassing.
"I'm ready."
Really, it would only be consistent to assume teleportation would be particle-based in a scape with buildings that could reconstruct themselves. Space transposition would suggest either a more modern setting with extensive inter-fleet trade or an ancient fantasy-based setting. Human stories seemed to go in funny cycles like that.
-
"That's.. that's it? That sounds too easy..." Jasper wasn't new to the thought-controlled hardware concept. Some - not all - of his devices that he'd been issued used the same basic principles. But.. this was so free. "Um... okay...." He decided to test this out like he would anything else: he made a line. In his mind, he thought the image of a short blue wire at the device. Nothing extravagant, just... a line. It simply appeared in front of him, hanging in space. He stood still for a few seconds. "That's just cool." He reached out to touch it, and to no surprise, his hand simply went right through it. Sapttus began to pay a bit more attention to his pal's new toy, as Jasper 'grasped' the line, having to focus a bit more to get the image to align with his hand movements, and curled it into a circle, then twisted it further into a spring of sorts.
"Oh my gosh... I think I can die happy now."
-
Claxter and his group finally made it to the ship, whose hatch was of course closed. <Prince Ossanlin, do you have the strength to let us in?> He asked. He had gotten into the ship before, but the machine he used to do it as back in his own ship.
-
Ossanlin glances at the Mirage's outer hull. <<Your new friend is no Andalite I recognize, and I do believe I would know if we had experimented so heavily with cybernetics. This suggests that he is no longer one of us. I do not know where his allegiances lie. I would not want him learning anything...unfortun ate...regarding either my ship or any non-integrated Andalite technology. Not to mention the tactical data contained in the memory banks. It's heavily encrypted of course...but I do not know his capabilities. I am not comfortable with him coming aboard the Mirage.>> Ossanlin sends to Claxter in private. He does not open the Mirage, awaiting a response from the Warrior.
-
<<I understand, my Prince, though he's the one carrying you.>> Claxter said. <<I don't suppose there is a stretcher in your ship I can bring out? I believe Theta will oblidge to wait outside for us.>>
-
Efaen finally reaches the Mirage, stopping a few feet away from Ossanlin and the others, purposely distancing herself from the other Andalites.
<I am present and willing to provide assistance, if required,> Efaen says to them. She knows that she is stating the obvious, but feels the need to maintain some sort of honorable presence.
-
|OGREON|
Ewa and Van both appeared prepared. I nodded.
"Ogreon to Urtahn. Three to beam up."
The forms of all three beings were gradually covered in a shifting, glowing red energy populated by small white glows that seemed to be alive, spinning around each being in circles. As the red energy dissipated, there was a medium red spherical light where the center of the person had been, and that too faded. Then, they were on the ship.
Link: http://animorphsforum.com/index.php?topic=7978.0
|THETA-PI|
We considered the possibility they had not answered us because they did not use regeneration units.
<How sophisticated is your medical equipment. Perhaps we could assist.>
-
Salem smiled at Mar and shook his head, "Healing immortals is not something I'm prepared for. I could let you have some time with one of my Ennish stones, but I don't know if it'd do you any good." He noted the two people coming towards him, Mike with his weapon drawn, but ignored them for the moment.
He leaned closer to Mar and narrowed his eyes, "What, exactly, possessed you to do something like that? How can you do something like that, if you're tied to a 'highest' that won't allow it?" He looked up at Elayne, then back down at Mar. He wasn't really expecting his questions to be answered. "Elayne, you want to help me try and get him someplace more comfortable?" He stood and held his hand out for Mar to take, intending to let Mar use his body as a crutch. He wasn't entirely sure why he was trying to help Mar, but he told himself it was just good business sense, and pushed the thought out of his mind.
Al grinned and ****ed his head. He was enjoying watching Jasper experiment with the projector.
"If you like it that much, It's all yours, man. I'll also throw in a charger for the power supply, and some instructions on how to reprogram it, and its abilities. If you take that one, you've gotta promise to be nice to it," he said with a wink. "It's my baby."
-
<<Actually, Theta, I don't think my Prince trusts you very much. It may be prudent to wait outside while I get a stretcher for him and take him into the Mirage. I hope you're not too put off by this, but it may be best for you to not enter the ship.>> Claxter said as nicely as he could.
-
"Are... you sure?" Jasper said. "Thanks. This sure seems like a lot more than a fair trade though... not that.. I'm ungrateful, but.. Salem won't get mad, will he? I don't want to cause a problem... But yeah, of course I'll be careful with it. No way I'd let anything happen." He wasn't sure how to respond to him calling it his baby. It was probably just a phrase, but with him being a robot and all.. it was just a little odd. Maybe it was more than just an expression to him? He didn't want to ask.
<<I feel kinda bad taking something for this when you were the one getting poked and prodded...>>
Sapttus tensed up. <<Wait, he said there wouldn't be any prodding or ..>>
<<Sorry, sorry, he didn't, it was... just a badly-timed figure of speech.>>
<<Oh. It's fine. Scared me there for a second. I thought maybe I'd just gotten too far out of it for that time.>>
<<You sound a lot better.>>
<<Yes, I'm just fine now. Back to normal levels of craziness.>>
Jasper chuckled. "Oh good. Hey, you watching this?>>
<<Of course I am. Though why you're basically playing with string, I don't understand.>>
<<Well, you know me... >>
"This would be in exchange for the scans and information that Salem acquired, correct? I just wanted to clarify, to make sure that our original offer was still on the table. Confidential information for a cure?"
-
Adam stops at the edge of a lake, feeling absurdly pleased with himself, as though wandering around like a fool is some sort of accomplishment. He sits down on the ground and starts unlacing his shoes. He sets them to the side, stuffing his socks in them a second later. Standing up, he wades into the water up to his chest.
Adam lets out a sigh. He's going to look like a drowned rat in a minute, but this is the closest he figures he'll get to a bath or reasonably clean clothes.
-
Al nodded, "As far as I know, yeah, that'd just be for the scans Salem just did. I don't know if he'll need to do more checks later, and I don't know if he'll offer more payment for those if he does, but I'll let him worry about that. He's the trader on this ship. I'm just the pretty one," he said with a smirk.
He walked over the the wall of the ship and stroked it, causing two drawers to open nearby. From the first, he pulled a round, white, plate-like object slightly bigger around than the projector he'd given Jasper, and from the second he pulled a small projection computing device like the one Salem had used to display his Persona Scanner's evaluation of Mar. He walked back to his chair in the center of the room and plugged the computer into a socket in the chair's arm.
"If you guys have any problems with that thing, let me know," he said, turning back to Jasper with a smile. "I haven't really gotten a chance to test it properly yet, and as it's my design, I could use your help working out the kinks. Actually, on that note, I'd appreciate any feedback at all. Usually I only ever get to show these things to Salem, and... well, you've seen how he can be."
He pulled the device out of the chair socket and walked over to Jasper, holding out both the plate-like object and the cube-ish computer for him to take. "This thing's a projection computer," he said about the latter. "It should have everything you need to know about the personal projector on it. And this," he said, holding up the plate, "is a charger for the projector itself. The energy reserves last around thirty hours under normal use. If you just keep this thing on your ship and set the projector on it, it should be able to draw power from the ship and into the projector. Not that I've ever used it with Yeerk systems," he said with a shrug.
-
"Sure," Elayne nods to Salem, putting her arm around Mar's back and shifting her feet to try to help her boyfriend stand. Altruism, she thinks on the word he, himself, used, and she smiles. He is a good person, she thinks, at least this incarnation of him, at least to me.
She tilts her head to watch the advancing Corliss and Illim cautiously. She is doubtful the two want anything to do with Mar or herself, but she hopes they don't try to engage Salem in a conversation or fight, considering it will be difficult to move Mar without the trader's help.
Illim drops back to give Corliss time to catch up. "Slimy jerk is just gonna try to get away again," he mutters to him, "and claim he was doing a good deed."
Serid follows Efaen and Claxter at a distance. Relief that the battle is over is dull compared with anxiety that his new advocate has been wounded.
His dark eyes turn to Efaen and he asks her privately, <<Why are you here, truly, Warrior? If you hold no allegiance to him, if you suspect him of disloyalty, what does his wellbeing matter to you?>>
-
Mar grasps Salem's hand awkwardly, nearly stumbling into the trader. He eventually settles on a position that uses Salem's body weight to stabilize his own. This was a nightmare. He wasn't sure exactly why Salem was offering him assistance, but he did know that he didn't really want it. He was having enough trouble concentrating as it was.
"Don't know," muttered Mar in response to Salem's question. "Each...body has separate will. Same power draw and similar wants. But...listen, the Highest started out as something else. There are...accidents sometimes when an avatar gets back in contact. It...agh..."
Mar glances at Elayne with slight worry. "......damn. Does the Trader have to help us, pet? Is there any other way out of this? I don't trust him at all...nor he me."
-
We listened to claxter.
<Acknowledged.>
Reverting the equipment in our abdominal support to it's original purpose, we walked to one end of the ship and stood rigid. Our eye's shut down. We went into a cryptobiotic regeneration.
-
Efaen scuffs a front hoof on the ground indignantly at Serid's accusation. <<Despite my suspicions, Ossanlin is my Prince,>> she says curtly. <<I hold total allegiance to him until the time in which he releases me from my duties. I am seeking another, more effective path in this war, but will do so only under the approval of my Prince. Anything less would be dishonorable.>>
She does not bring up the fact that she has already spoken with the rebellion about joining them. Ossanlin knows as much, and it is really not Serid's business, as far as Efaen is concerned.
-
Claxternoticed Serid come up. His Prince probably doesn't trust the Human any mosre than Theta. <May I ask who you are? I don't believe we've formerly met.>
-
Ossanlin feels the concrete and dirt once again pressing against his body as the cusioned field is removed. He rotates his head and moves an arm experimentally. <There is no stretcher...> Ossanlin commands the main hatch to open and gives his authorization codes. The main ramp descends and Ossanlin commands the Mirage to activate med-bay protocals, simultaneously locking down all parts of the ship besides the med-bay itself. His body is near the edge of the repressor-field's reach, but it manages to lift him, much like what one would expect to see in an anti-grav unit. The thing was not capable of actually manipulating his body, but pushing him would be a fairly simple task since he was now floating at about human-waist level.
<If one of you would be so kind as to maneuver my body into the med-bay, I would be much obliged.>
-
<Yes my Prince.> Claxter said. He started pushing Ossanlin towards the ship. <Come on in and assist, Efaen. You and I should be able to manage by ourselves.>
-
"Like hell he will," Corliss says, panting, slowing to match Illim's pace. "Especially not after breaking into me bloody ship's system. Myitt had some sort of bad experience with him, too...I don't trust the git." He strides forward, gritting his teeth, Dracon drawn.
-
"Yeah, sure, I'd be glad to check in every once in a while. This is going to be a lot of fun. I uh... thanks." Jasper smiles.
<<This would actually make it a lot easier to share the blue prints when we get to that. Assuming that you are able to work this device well enough by then...>>
<<What? You think that this line is the best I got? Pfft.>>
<<You don't have to act like a big shot for me, bub. I'm in here too, remember? I know you're holding back. I have to admit though, it does seem a little complicated to operate.>>
<<Not... too much. But you never really realize how much detail you miss out on so often. I mean... seriously! I can't tell if I'm bending this spring right or not...>>
Sapttus chuckled. <<I'm pretty sure your spring scrunching skills are superior.>>
Sapttus accepted the charger and computer from Al. "This is basically a manual, correct? Jasper here just loves manuals."
"Yeah... I'm part of the 1% of the population that actually reads them."
"And if it wasn't for me, he would still have all of them. They'd be neatly stacked in a drawer."
"Anyways..." Jasper says, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I'm hoping that this works with our ship." Standing right in front of him now, Jasper takes a better look at Al's chasis. The intricacies and mechanisms involved were just fascinating. His easily-distracted mind was soon taken from the blue squiggle, which dissipated after being forgotten, and he began to closely analyze his android body. "If uh... you don't mind me asking... who made this uh, body, for you?"
-
<Of course,> Efaen says, turning her attention away from Serid. She moves forward into a position where she can assist Claxter in maneuvering Ossanlin's body up the ramp and onto the Mirage. She finds that even though she is no longer on the best of terms with Claxter, she is able to relax somewhat in his presence. Perhaps it is merely because she has been given a task to complete - one that is within her capabilities and does not involve making any difficult decisions about what is and what is not honorable.
<I wish to thank you again, Claxter,> Efaen says offhandedly, giving Ossanlin's body a gentle push forward. <for the assistance that you have provided since my arrival here.>
On board Corliss' ship, Terenia is beginning to get nervous. How long has it been since she was left alone? The vestiges of her internal clock tell her that it hasn't been terribly long, but she feels as though it has been ages.
<Hello?> she calls out tentatively to the empty ship. <Anyone there?> Or have you all forgotten me?
-
Elayne nods, casting another nervous glance at Corliss. "It looks like he's about to be occupied soon anyway. Let me help you inside... not particularly restful there, but it's closer than my ship."
She tightens her arm around him to accept more of his weight. What do you mean, "accidents"? she wants to ask but holds her tongue for the moment.
Serid has nothing to say in response to Efaen; truth be told, he is not much interested in speaking with her at all. When the Andalite male addresses him, he thinks, This is not precisely the distraction from the previous conversation I had in mind. Fortunately for him, perhaps, the Andalite's attention is drawn away by the War Prince, and Serid remains silent, waiting outside the ship.
"Yeah?" Illim says, raising an eyebrow. It is news to him that Salem is on Myitt's untrustworthy list too. Not that that ought to mean much to him; he is sure he is among its ranks, as well. "Well, I've got your back," he murmurs to Corliss.
-
"Yeah?" Corliss says, giving Illim a sidelong glance. "I hope so, mate. Anyway, whatever attacked my shipboard computer system came from outside of it."
He grins, pausing to catch his breath and patting Illim on the shoulder. "And I know you wouldn't be stupid enough to try and hack it from the inside, this this twit."
Corliss looks up at Salem, cupping his free hand at his mouth. "Oy! Salem! Stop larking about with Dracula and his girlfriend, coz I reckon I need to have a little chat with you."
-
<You are very welcome I don't regret doing it, especially since it's about the first good thing I've ever accomplished.> Claxter said. As he made it up the ramp, he turned a stalk eye to Serid for one last look at him. <Who is that guy, anyway? The Human You were associating with? I've seen him speaking with Prince Ossanlin as well.>
Derrel watched on from within his head, not really saying anything. He was worried that Salem might have something tucked under his clothes, though. Even when someone looks unarmed, they might suddenly pull something out. Though obviously Illim and Corliss had weapons too. <Set phasers to painful, Captain.>
-
Salem raised an eyebrow at Mar's comment to Elayne about neither he nor Mar trusting each other. Mar was right, of course, but Salem hadn't really been expecting to be asked to leave.
"Have a little patience, Yeerk. I hear it's a virtue in these parts," he said to Corliss with a smirk. He tried to shift his weight in a way that would let him stop supporting Mar without sending Mar and Elayne tumbling to the ground. He glanced over at the bar, then back at Elayne, and said, "Do you think it's whole again? After that ship crashed into it, there might not be much left in there." He'd previously witnessed the bar's self-repairing abilities, and he felt he wouldn't really be surprised either way. He just wasn't sure of the extent of the bar's capabilities.
Al nodded, "Yeah, it's a manual. Thought or voice activated, touch required for the thought commands on this one. It should be pretty easy to work out. And hopefully the charger works. If it doesn't, come see me, and I'll figure something else out."
When Jasper started looking at his body, Al laughed and rapped a hand against the side of his head, "This little number was a collaboration with a species calling themselves 'Pemalites.' Salem and I spent some time with them a while back. Some of it is based on the technology we had when we met them, and the rest of it is theirs, originally. The whole concept is based on the body I had when I met them." He grinned, "Real nice guys. Last I heard, they were gonna try developing their own AI's to throw into these things." He mimed wiping a tear away from his eye, "I was so honored." He tilted his head and seemed to stare off into space, "Y'know, I haven't actually heard from them in ages. Ever since Salem and I had the incident with the thingy..."
-
We opened our eyes. We had never really deactivated our units. We were only simulating our cryptobiosis. We had been observing the Andalites as they entered the vessel.
We were alone. For the first time since we had been severed from the collective, we were entirely isolated. That would not do.
We spotted a human standing adjacent to the ship, and approached him, <Human Unit, what is your designation?>
-
"Yeah, okay, I'll take a look at this then..." Jasper says about the computer.
"I... might have heard of these Pemalites before, but I don't really recall. It may have come up in passing once or twice." Sapttus said. "They seem to have been highly advanced for a species existing such a long time ago, as you imply. It sounds to me like you and Salem live quite the interesting lifestyle." He didn't want to ask about the 'incident' he mentioned. Sapttus figured that if Al wanted to go into it, then he would of his own accord. He didn't want to prod. "Any idea how long Salem will be out?"
-
<<Not a bad idea,>> Illim tells Derrel, drawing his new Dracon. He keeps the setting low, though, especially considering bystanders are close.
Illim looks at Corliss, giving a grateful nod. It seems he has won his way into the Rebellion, at least so far as Corliss is concerned. Reven had not so much as asked for his name when he had spoken with Efaen; hopefully the endorsement of the Yeerk beside him would be sufficient to secure his entrance.
Elayne gives an exasperated sigh as Salem shrugs off the newcomers again, but she is glad that she alone is helping bear Mar's weight now. "I don't know," she says, trying to lead Mar towards the building, "but I don't know where else to take him. It'll be fine."
Serid turns his head to see who has addressed him and raises his eyebrows in surprise. The Andalite is highly strange-looking, to say the least. "My name is Serid," he replies cautiously. "What is yours?"
-
"Maybe not need ship after all. Thanks any way Danielle." Jagill said, opening the hatch to leave the ship, since the bar seemed to be doing fine on its own. He headed back, seeing that the Andalites had left. Samel was carrying Mar back inside, and were being followed by Corliss and Illim. He didn't know if he should help Salem or not. Temrash made friends with him, but he didn't want Corliss to know Temrash was Salem's friend. His ship was closed off, otherwise he might have tried to do something about Terenia. He followed behind the group on the way inside.
-
<We are Unit Theta-4577 of Adjunct Pi-675810, of Alvie. As of recently I have been referred to as Theta.>, we stated plainly, <We have no commission.>, we added.
-
Luckily, Mar doesn't appear to weigh all that much at all. In fact considering he's supposed to be a man of twenty or thirty years old, he's quite possibly unhealthy. He did look a tad bit...underfed when Elayne saw his chest some time earlier. Mar glances up at Elaynes's exasperated expression and smirks a little bit. He didn't exactly realize in his tired state that getting Salem to go away would leave all of his weight on Elayne. Poor dear; her pain wasn't his intent.
"Didn't mean to leave you alone holding me," muttered Mar, his voice taking on that odd raised quality to it for a moment. "Didn't mean any of this. Without me...Ossanlin would fall. I owed the War-Prince.......something. Anything. Seemed like my only choice at the time."
-
One of Efaen's stalks follow Claxter's to the hatch, and Serid beyond. <He has been seeking an audience with Ossanlin,> Efaen says. <I believe that he wishes to join the crew of the Tyrennian.> She decides to avoid mentioning Serid's Andalite roots. She does not know how widely the nothlit wants the knowledge spread and keeping the secret may garner trust with him later, if she needs it.
Reaching the interior of the ship, Efaen steps aside and allows Claxter to lead. She has not yet spent any time aboard the War-Prince's personal ship, and does not know where the med bay is - although there are not many options to choose from.
-
Claxter got him into the medbay, and onto the table. <Computer. Run bioscan on p[rince Ossanlin and give me a readout of anything wrong.> He found it odd that a Human would want work on the Tyrennian, but he had seen stranger things at this bar. <Also make sure the external hatch is closed.> He said, in case it already wasn't. Even though much of the ship was blocked off, there wasn't any reason to leave the hatch open.
-
Al shrugged, "No idea. He's always off doing something. I think I need to put bells on that boy so I can keep track of him." He winked at Jasper, "Never knowing what he's up to is part of the benefit of the lifestyle we lead these days. How come? Did you need to see him for something else?"
Salem swallowed and nodded at Elayne. Without another word, he turned to face Illim and Corliss, both of whom were now approaching with their weapons drawn.
His mouth broke into a grin. "Hey Terenia," he said to Corliss. "You want to talk, great, but that," he said, waving a hand at Corliss' Dracon, "is just unnecessary."
-
"Oh no, we aren't in any rush." Sapttus said. Truth be told, simply sitting around could get boring, but what was really on his mind was the cure. He didn't want to sit around waiting for that forever. NOt that.. he thought he would be, but the wait was going to kill him.
Jasper took a seat and began going through the manual. "Oh... this might take me a while..." he says softly to himself.
-
Jagill stopped as Salem stopped, and stood not too far away from him and the other two. He could easily hear anything that was said, and made no effort to hide himself. He didn't draw his weapon because he didn't think they'd start firing on him.
-
((Moderator note: All posts from May 21, 2011 - May 25, 2011 were lost. If players could please use their next post to summarize where they are currently positioned it would be appreciated.))
Efaen helps Claxter take Ossanlin into the medbay, watching as the other warrior hooks the Prince up to the machines. She stands near the War-Prince, her main eyes focused on his exhausted form as she discusses Ossanlin's abilities.
<<He does seem to be...capable of a great deal,>> Efaen allows. <<Does this not concern you?>>
-
Corliss gives Illim a glance and follows Jagill toward Temrash's ship, his boots crunching across the gravel at the front of the parking area.
"I take it we can access the ship's pool/computer interface?" Corliss says, though he's not sure if the big Hork-Bajir can understand the term.
-
Salem's standoff with Corliss and Illim had left him shaking slightly. That wasn't like him. In addition, Corliss had now come back, and wanted to speak to Temrash as well. With the way things were going with the Yeerk lately, Salem felt it would be better to stay out of his way.
"Um... Jagill, I'll talk to Temrash after he's done with Corliss," he said to the Hork-Bajir. "Tell him I'd like to see him."
Al had been keeping an eye on Salem's situation, while being assisted in cleaning up his work area by Jasper. It looked like the standoff Salem had gotten himself into had diffused for now. Al breathed a sigh of relief.
"Actually," he said, turning to Jasper, "it looks like Salem might be available at the moment. We can probably catch him before he goes and starts doing something else," he said, starting down the ship's ramp, fully human in appearance.
-
Ossanlin continues to lay partially responsive and exhausted in the Mirage's medbay.
-
Jacob finished his drink and headed too his ship he had things to do elsewhere in the galaxy.
-
"Yes. You talk Temrash while in pool." Jagill said. He commanded the hatch to open, and stepped into the bridge. "No weapon. Wait here while I talk first. Ship watch you, so not do anything." He said once they were in. He pressed some keys on the computer, opened the door to the back, then entered and locked it behind him. Inside he typed on a keypad instead of talking so no one could hear them, communicating through text. Once Temrash was told that Corliss was suspicious of Salem, and wanted to speak to him, he said yes.
Jagill left the room and closed the hatch behind him. "Temrash say he talk. You go in without weapon, and not touch Temrash. I mean it." He said that last one with a stone cold expression. Corliss had been arguing with Temrash a lot, but Jagill wasn't taking any chances. Corliss would play his way, or leave.
Claxter finally got the scan back. Nothing vital, so all he really needed was rest. <<It is not a Warrior's duty to question his Prince. Prince Ossanlin is powerful, and has some unorthodox views, but as long as he opposes the Empire then I will serve him. Our end goals are the same.>>
-
Jasper felt gross after having just dumped the things from the desk into the bins without any sorting or organizing what-so-ever. It just felt... wrong.
Sapttus was growing anxious in waiting for Salem - or rather, the cure he was supposed to be preparing - and had asked Al if he wanted to join the two of them back at the bar.
"Well that's good to hear. I must admit, you're visual displays running all over the interior of your ship are quite fascinating, not that I fully understood them." Sapttus followed Al down the ramp, headed back towards the bar. Jasper was sure to stuff the holo-projection device into an outside pocket of his laptop bag before leaving. It should be safe there.
-
Corliss leaves his Dracon reluctantly on the control panel of Temrash's ship.
"Fine," he says, glaring at Jagill. "I'll be a good boy, I promise."
He steps into the pool room, clearing his throat.
"Temrash, can you hear me? It's Corliss," he says, trying to keep as much anger as he can out of his tone of voice.
-
"So, now you finally want to talk, Corliss? Not too busy? No other pressing engagements?" Temrash said through the computer as Jagill reentered the room and locked the door behind him. "I'll let you start." There was no indication that he was nervous in his natural state. He trusted Corliss was unarmed, and Jagill was trained to protect him when he fed. So he continued to relax in the liquid.
-
Corliss glances over his shoulder as Jagill steps in and locks the only exit. In spite of himself, he starts to feel as though perhaps he's made a mistake in coming here.
He clears his throat. "Listen, Temrash," he says flatly. "Something is wrong with my ship, and I might be going out on a limb here, but I think Salem has something to do with it. I caught him tampering with my ship's systems earlier, and now there's a power drain indicative of another hack attempt. Would you happen to know anything about what he might be up to?"
-
"Oh, this is about Salem?" Temrash asked, acting like he thought it was about something else. "He's an opportunist. If he sees an opportunity to make a profit, he'll take it. I'm just not sure how he would get into your ship in the first place. Was this before or after we spoke last?"
-
"Honestly, I can't remember, it's been such a ridiculous series of events," Corliss mutters. "I reckon he's an opportunist, yeah, but someone must've hired him. Someone who wanted access to a rebel computer system really badly." He shifts his weight, arms crossed. "None of your contacts watching the transmissions here have seen anything?"
-
Kevlin walked casually out of the trees he and Dara had been sleeping in the branches of one of the larger trees. <<Should we check in with Temrash first?>> <<Probably.>> <<Okay.>> Kevlin moved towards Temrash's ship. "Are you there Temrash?" He asked as he boarded the ship.
-
Efaen nods, seemingly satisfied with Claxter's response. <<You are correct, of course,>> she says. <<It is not our place to question Prince Ossanlin.>> She stares at his barely responsive form. <<That last fight took a good deal of strength from him. Perhaps it will be wise to lock him aboard and allow him respite. I will speak to him regarding my future once he is well. In the meantime, I must ensure that the situation with the Yeerk filth outside does not change.>>
-
Now that she has wrested the decrepit Bar door ajar, the trick is for Elayne to hold it open while attempting to maneuver Mar inside. He may be far more lightweight than she feels he ought to be, but it doesn't change the fact that she only has two arms.
Illim wheels around, following Corliss back to Jagill, but he does not attempt to board the ship with his new friend. <<You were right about his speech patterns indicating a shift in control over his brain,>> he remarks to Derrel, watching Jagill. <<You're observant.>>
Turning his attention to Salem, he gives a tight-lipped smile. "So how do you know this Temrash fellow?" he asks, taking a few more steps to approach him and putting away his Dracon to at least pay lip service to offering the olive branch.
Serid glances at the still-closed hatch door in slight dismay and then says to Theta, "I do not suppose this Unimatrix has made significant headway into your native part of the galaxy?"
-
<The Unimatrix has made headway into most of their quadrant.>, we said
-
"It's hard to say who might have hired Salem, if anyone." Temrash said. "We did see Keshin briefly, even though it seems she was a different one. Not that our kind isn't good at deception. There have been new people coming in that we don't know. But hey, I have repairmen that could help you fix the problems with your ship. First, however, we need to have a nice talk about your present situation. About Terenia, and why you trust her so much that you'd let her use Mike and have access to everything he knows. You've been really closed off, but I still want some answers. You said she doesn't need monitoring, but is she really not going to be monitored once she makes it into the base?"
"She said she left Efaen willingly, but I have no reason to believe she wouldn't try something to get back into her head. Has she said anything to you about Efaen recently?"
Jagill heard Dara in the other room. "We in here, Dara and Kavlin." He said from the medbay. He unlocked the door for them, but stayed within arms reach of Corliss.
<<Yes, he should be alright here by himself. I may be able to set up a connection between the computer and my communicator so it can inform me of any irregularities while Ossanlin sleeps.>> He began to leave the room so they could open the outer hatch and leave the ship.
<<I find it useful to pay attention to the small things. It helps me know if something is wrong so I can avoid pain.>> Derrel said.
-
<<How very self-aware of you,>> Illim snorts in amusement as he waits for Salem's response. <<I suppose that's good, though. As you're probably gathering... I've always been a bit on the reckless side.>>
"That is unsettling," Serid remarks, eyebrows raising. "I have not heard of other Andalites being... subsumed into it."
-
Salem turned to Illim and raised his eyebrows slightly. The guy was quiet- up until now, Salem hadn't really heard him speak. Salem figured he was probably affiliated with the Rebellion somehow, but whether he was just Corliss' lackey or someone more important, Salem didn't know.
"I've just met him since arriving at this bar," Salem said. "He's less crazy and paranoid than your friend Corliss, and I need a Yeerk's help." He tilted his head, then shrugged slightly and stuck out his hand with a smile, "I didn't catch your name. I'm Salem, in case you hadn't picked that up already."
Al laughed as he walked beside Jasper. "Yeah, the interior display is one of the more... noticeable features of that ship. Salem and I designed that thing custom. It's got its share of fun little tricks."
He veered to the side a bit, heading towards Salem and Illim, and called out, "Oy, Salem! The heck are you doing?"
-
"I don't owe you any answers," Corliss snaps, irritated. "I'm here to ask you the questions, Temrash. I trust Terenia, and I honestly don't trust you as far as I can throw you." His eyes narrow. "Which, incidentally, is pretty far, at the bloody moment."
He glances back at Jagill, who is distracted with someone he didn't know in the other room.
"Let me spell it out for you, if you still don't get it," Corliss says acridly. "I reckon you got all sore about being left out of the loop, and started hacking into my system--or hired Salem to do it for you. Either that or you really do work for the Empire, in which case I have every right to kill you here and now."
-
Efaen ensures that Ossanlin is secure before following Claxter to the bridge of the Andalite yacht.
<This ship has quite an excellent design,> she comments admiringly. She approaches the main computer array and inspects them curiously. <Our Prince must be quite well-respected among the Electorate to warrant such a ship in addition to that which he captains.>
-
Temrash laughed when Corliss accused him of working for the Empire. "You fool. You half baked fool. I had an Andalite Captain in my ship earlier that was totally incapacitated. If I worked for the Empire, I'd be gone, and so would Ossanlin. Dapsen, I had two of them, and I know where your old base used to be and can get a good estimate of the distance between the old one and where the new one is. You dare accuse me of being the enemy when you associate with someone who has been trying to get away from us and back to the Empire until just recently?"
"You are an imbecile, and if you expect to leave this room in one piece, I wouldn't threaten me. I should just have a memory dump put on you. You know too much about me to obviously not be my ally, and perhaps I can get some other answers. Why would I need to hack your ship? For spite? You take me for being petty, or a loyalist? Unless you have some hard evidence that someone hired Salem in the first place, you shouldn't come here and threaten me. But since you're here, I'll take my memories back. Unless you want to start acting civilized and stop avoiding my questions."
-
"There's no bleeding way you could project the new base's location from our old one!" Corliss laughs incredulously. "Even if you don't work for the Empire, Temrash, you clearly have a vested interest in finding out information that might not pertain to you. Did you ever once think that people might not want to share everything they know with you just because you wave the sympathetic Imperial card?"
He shakes his head. "The only ****ing evidence I have is that Salem hacked my ship, because I caught him doing it. Now he claims he had no involvement in a second hack, which I find exceedingly difficult to believe. Either he was acting on his own, or someone hired him. Who else around here has expressed an interest in accessing rebel information, but has been denied that?" He feigns thoughtfulness. "Hmm, let me think, it's really quite difficult..."
-
"I will admit that I would be suspect, if Salem was even working for someone. Since you have no evidence that he is, then I have no reason to defend myself. I'm just trying to understand your facination with Terenia. All I want is for her to be watched, and I have no reason to believe she wouldn't be watched at the base, so I have no idea why you don't want her to be watched here. I once agreed to ally with you, and gave you everything I know. Why do you not give me a little of the same thing? I trusted you. Why don't you trust me?"
-
"Illim," the Yeerk by that name responds to Salem, taking a step forward to shake his proffered hand. "Crazy and paranoid, huh? Paranoid, sure; he needs it for survival. Crazy... doubtful," Illim gives his uninvited opinion.
He leans back on his heels and folds his arms. "So, Salem. What's your part in all this?"
-
"Because not trusting people is what has kept me alive for the last twenty Generations," Corliss snarls. "I only trust those whom I judge to be trustworthy. I've seen Terenia's memories, my brother's reported on them, and Terenia's been in my host's head. If anything that makes me trust her more, knowing her thoughts and memories. You don't have to concern yourself about a lost human girl who happens to have the body of one of our people. If anything I'd be more concerned about Efaen, who is roaming free and causing who knows what kind of trouble?"
-
"And what has Efaen done, exactly? She ran around with Claxter for a while. Now she's free again, and she's...running around with Claxter again. when I let her out of my ship she went into the forest to rest. Terenia convinced a Hork-Bajir friend of mine to take her to Efaen, and she disobeyed my orders to hang back so she could knock Efaen out and reinfest her. Efaen has done nothing but try to get away from Terenia since she's been here, as far as I can tell. She hates Yeerks. Oh big surprise! What a shock? never saw that coming! What a crisis we have! However she obviously has something that Terenia does not seem to posses: self control. If anything, she has more than I do."
"So tell me why you don't trust me. What exactly did I do wrong in your eyes? Is it because I didn't put enough faith in you? Kind of hard when you're so closed off. D most of the people you know just take your word for it? Or was I supposed a subordinate to you? Not ask questions. Just take orders."
Claxter opened the outer hatch, and began walking down. He nticed Theta talking to Ossanlin's Human friend. <We are back. Prince Ossanlin should be fine.>
-
Salem turned to look when Al called out to him. Al and Jasper were walking his way from the ship. Rather than answer, Salem simply waved in greeting before turning back to Illim.
He shook his head slightly, "I know Corliss isn't genuinely crazy. I'm just frustrated at the moment... I think more with myself than with him. I'd like to try to come to an agreement with your Rebellion, but Corliss is really caught up in the fact that I messed with his ship's computer system. And now he's got these malfunctions going on and he's tying them with my actions. I guess my part in this is just that I have extraordinarily poor timing when it comes to doing extraordinarily dumb things."
He looked Derrel up and down. Illim did sound like a Yeerkish name...
"I don't suppose there's any chance you'd be willing to help me out? As I said, I need a Yeerk's assistance. I'd be willing to pay for the information I need, of course."
-
Dara moved into the room. "I can vouch for Terenia's instability." He didn't like her anymore than Efaen did. "Crazy!" He muttered under his breath.
-
Temrash was trying to think of some way to get Corliss off his case about the hacking. He wished Salem had been more discreet, but the fact that Corliss wasn't sure Salem was working for anyone could give Temrash a chance. He just needed someone to take the hit for him, and have it make more sense than Temrash. He would need to talk to Salem again without being seen, or have someone else do it for him.
-
Mar lays back in the chair, exhausted. He is aware that Elayne is having a great deal of trouble, but there is not a lot the mortal Highest can do for her. He can only hope that the Great Sickness eventually passes over his body and he can return to his...peace. Could he really call it that? He always feels so...different in the rare times it comes over him. Irritating that only on his deathbed can he get back what he once was for a moment.
Mar rolls his eyes. "Damn...Ossanlin. I don't like going through this madness. Confuses me. War-Prince should stop falling over dead....Elayne. Are we..."
Mar pushes himself forward to get a better look at where they're going. He winces and immediately regrets doing that. Idiot. Stupid, stupid Mar. "...the Bar? What can we possibly get there, sweet pet?"
-
<<Do we follow him, or what?>>
<<Yes, for now. It's not like we're in a hurry to get back to sitting in the bar.>>
<<yeah, but... well, maybe we'd be intruding on something?>>
<<Well, if that's the case, surely they'll give us some indication that they're wanting privacy, wouldn't they?>>
<<probably, yeah... okay, whatever.>>
Jasper and Salem followed by Al, coming up on Salem and the guy he was talking to at the moment. The way they were approaching though, he couldn't tell who he was chatting with due to the angle. Not that either of them would have recognized anyone on this rock anyways....
<<You're anxious, aren't you?>>
<<No, I... >> Sapttus stalled. << I guess I am. I know this process might take a while, but just the fact that we've taken half a step towards finding a cure is exhilarating to me. And now... we're chatting with friends. This is hardly productive.>>
Jasper wasn't sure how to respond. Sapttus was hyper-focused on his goal, and that was something he hadn't seen in his Yeerk Buddy for a while. It... felt to him like Sapttus was there in his head, but not with him in his head.
<<I'm not taking over, am I?>> Sapttus asked, having noticed Jasper's thoughts.
<<Oh no, no, no.... it's just... well, I can tell this is what we'll be doing for a while.>> He gave the equivalent of a mental smile to show his mind-reading ally that he was okay with this, which he was... for the most part. Again, it wasn't like he had anything better to do.
-
"Poor trader," Illim remarks, his tone indicative of his complete apathy for Salem's situation. "Poor timing or not, it doesn't make me trust you much more, either." His eyes narrow and he folds his arms across his chest. "So what do you need assistance with, exactly?" he asks, eying him in return.
-
Efaen follows Claxter off of the ship. A quick glance indicates that the modified Andalite -Theta- and Serid have not left.
<Prince Ossanlin has been secured and he is resting,> Efaen says, her stalk eyes scanning the area. <I believe it is best that we leave him be for the time being.>
-
Salem turned to Jasper and Al as they approached, "Hey, guys, give me one minute."
He turned back to Illim, and chose to ignore the remark about his trustworthiness. Besides the fact that arguing with Illim wouldn't get him anywhere, there was the fact that Corliss was right about his 'sabotage' of the Skimmer.
"I'm looking for information on Yeerk physiology," Salem said, cutting to the chase. He glanced back at Jasper and decided that, since Sapptus seemed to be attempting to keep himself a secret, it wouldn't be prudent of him to reveal that the pair was Yeerk at the moment. "I'm... fairly unacquainted with Yeerks. If you have any Yeerk medical information stored somewhere, I'll trade you something equally useful." Have to ask Sapptus for the same thing once Illim leaves, he thought. "If that's not something you can help me with, I'd appreciate the chance to run some scans on you, specifically, without your host. It should only take a few minutes, and some of the things I can offer for it should grab your attention."
-
Illim raises his eyebrows and shakes his head with a short, incredulous laugh. "I'm not leaving my host. If I don't trust you on Corliss's ship, I certainly don't trust you with my rather vulnerable person. Really, Salem. You're a piece of work."
He sighs and shrugs. "Now if you want some generic medical information, I might be more able to help you. What do you want to know?"
Elayne sighs as she hauls Mar to the nearest cushioned seat, setting him down in it. "A chair is what we can get here," she tells him as she attempts to arrange his legs more comfortably and shove the seat against the wall so he can rest against it. "You should sleep, try to heal up, alright?" she says, still fussing with him.
Serid looks up at Efaen and Claxter as they emerge from the ship. "I appreciate the good report, Warrior" he tells Efaen with a nod.
Turning to Theta, he says, "I should take my leave of you. Forgive me, but I have not slept in a long time, and I require rest."
-
Salem laughed and shook his head, "Right, you Yeerks are pretty helpless in your natural state. It'd be on your terms, of course, but if you have information, that's actually a lot more useful to me." He smiled, "What I need is just general information on typical Yeerk physiology. Anything you're willing to sell me would be helpful. If you have records of medical procedures or alterations or... well, anything really, I'll pay you well for them."
He tilted his head, "And, actually, if you have a way for me to take scans of some Kandrona radiation, I'll pay for that, too. I don't know if you'd have records of it or a generator I could see... or even buy. I just need to know what it is that I'm dealing with, exactly."
-
Corliss sighs impatiently, waving a dismissing hand. "Efaen just blew up Terenia's ship," he says gratingly. "She's a walking bloody time bomb! And I have no allegiance to you, nor you to me, yet you continue to act like I owe you me life." He gives the doorway and Jagill a disgusted glance. "If you can't admit to the fact that you're an obnoxious saboteur, hiring mercenaries to skulk about my ship doing your job for you, then I suppose I'll have to figure out how to fix this mess in my shipboard system myself."
He heads for the door back into the cabin, pausing to add, "Although if you can't come clean and act like a misguided ally instead of an enemy, you can forget even the remotest chance of ever working with our cause. We'll blacklist you, mark my words."
Corliss brushes past Jagill and stalks into the cabin in a huff.
-
"Alright. Alright! I did it! I was hoping Salem would be more subtle than he was. His pilot can project holograms for crying out loud. I don't know how you caught him in your ship unless he was just being really sloppy. You must be really paranoid to even come here and accuse me of being behind it when you didn't even know Salem was working for me."
"I just wanted to talk to Reven. That's all. You've shut me out for reasons I don't understand because you won't even sit down and talk. We both know Terenia will be watched when she's at the base, so I don't know why you're against her being watched here. I can give the rebellion so many things. Practically anything you people want that you have so many problems getting. All I need is some operatives that are good at espionage that I could trust won't sell me out to the Empire."
"Don't blacklist me. Trust me, we'll both lose out if that happens."
-
"Excuse me if I find that hard to believe," Corliss snaps, glaring at the cabin ceiling from which Temrash's reconstructed voice is projecting. He steps down the hatch threshold and clunks down the metal ramp, still fuming.
-
"You should believe." Jagill said, coming down the ramp. "You ask, and Temrash get. Just say so."
-
"Still have trouble with that guy?" Kevlin glanced at the receding figure.
-
Corliss keeps walking, crunching across the gravel parking lot without so much as a second glance back at Jagill.
He draws his Dracon and approaches Illim and Salem where they stand not far off, in front of the bar.
"Illim," says Corliss, struggling to retain his composure, "I'm leaving. I don't care if I have to march up to Efaen, stun her and drag her body onto the ship. The longer I stay here, the longer that dapsen coward is sapping energy and information from my ship."
He gives Salem an accusatory glare, gesturing with the gun. "I reckon that means you're a pretty good liar," Corliss sneers. "At least, a stubborn one, I'll give you that. If you can help me reverse what you've done, we can discuss civil relations between you and the rebellion. If not, I'll figure it out myself, without having to worry about being stabbed in the bloody back by a trader who takes the word of imbeciles like Temrash."
-
"Infuriating. Simply infuriating! I don't know what went wrong, Kevlin. One minute I was practically in the rebellion, and had a new ally and resource, and the next minute I'm banned. For what? I' beginning to dislike this place. I really am." Temrash told Kevlin.
Jagill came back to the ship, and gave the Hork-Bajir equivalent of a shrug of exasperation.
<I see the Skimmer is nearby, and perhaps Corliss is still near.> Claxter told Efaen. <We can find them again if you'd like. Personally I don't trust them either, so I'd like to remain with you in case they try anything. If that is fine with you.>
-
"I understand what you mean but I must say that the amount of politics going on in a bar is quite amusing." Kevlin shrugged.
-
"Yeah well, I'm starting to think it's time for my little vacation to be over. Unless Corliss decided to take his ship over to the rebellion himself, I don't think I'm getting anywhere."
-
Serid left. We saw claxter and efaen return from the ship.
<Claxter. Is the Ossanlin unit operating sufficiently?>
-
<Yes, Prince Ossanlin is doing well. You don't have to call the units, you know. We're all people, not machine. Including you.> Claxter said. <I suppose we'll have to wait before Prince Ossanlin says where he wants to station Efaen.>
"This place is interesting, though prolonged stays can wear on someone's nerves." Temrash said.
"What now?" Jagill asked.
"I don't know. If I try anything further, it seems I'll be blacklisted. corliss won't stop being stubborn, and I don't know how to contact a single other person in the rebellion."
-
<You may remain with me for the time being,> Efaen acknowledges. <I do not trust the Yeerk either, however I find that his presence is a risk I must undertake, if I am to join his supposed rebellion.> She sighs, her tail lowering slightly as she switches to private thought-speech. <<I understand if you look upon me dishonorably, warrior, but I truly believe that this will most directly impact the outcome of this war. I still await Prince Ossanlin's judgment on the matter, of course, but it is becoming increasingly obvious that I will be of little use to the Andalite military. What good am I to this war if I am shuttled back to the homeworld and kept under constant surveillance?>>
-
<It seems neither of us fit the role that our genders are supposed to take. I don't think badly of you. If something goes wrong, I could always just come rescue you again.> He said jokingly.
-
Efaen smirks slightly with her main eyes. <I would expect nothing less, warrior,> she says lightly, pleased that her comrade does not hold her with ill regard. <You have already been of great assistance to me, I would not want you to tarnish such a reputation.>
-
Illim regards Salem suspiciously, but at Mike's approach, he shrugs to the trader with a small smirk. "So you did do it, huh? Well, it looks like any deal you're trying to offer me will have to wait until next time. Unless what you're asking for would be of adequate value to talk you into undoing whatever you did to Corliss's ship?" He spreads his hands with a broader smile.
-
Claxter began walking towards the skimmer where he saw Corliss and someone else menacing Salem. He said nothing, but kept his eyes on them.
-
Salem frowned and glanced from Corliss to Illim. He knew full well that Corliss might be bluffing- he'd seen this trick used before. Tell one member of a group that the others gave them up, and they can be effectively duped into admitting the guilt of the whole party. Temrash was supposedly against the empire- he couldn't imagine the Yeerk lasting long if he gave up information so easily.
On the other hand, they might be telling the truth. Temrash, from what he'd heard, was a former Visser. The Vissers were well known for their ruthlessness, so if Temrash had seen a potential benefit to giving him up, Salem didn't doubt that he'd do it in a heartbeat.
He'd have to remember to take this into account, if he had future dealings at the bar. He wasn't used to his clients and targets being in contact with one another. He'd have to come up with a way of making sure his employers didn't sell him out.
Best to play it safe for now.
"That lying Yeerk fingered me? And just like that, you believed him?" He sighed, "Would you all excuse me for a minute?" Heedless of Corliss' Dracon pointed at his back, he spun on his heel and began to stalk in the direction of Temrash's ship.
Al watched as Salem walked off again, and turned to Jasper with a shrug and a bemused smile. He then spun back to Corliss and Illim, "So... how about this weather?"
-
Efaen falls into step next to Claxter, taking note of Corliss and Illim. As she watches, Salem seems to turn and begin walking away.
<The Yeerks wish to return to their base soon,> Efaen says to Claxter. <It may come about that I am unable to speak with Ossanlin properly before leaving this planetoid. That is...undesirable. I wish to operate within his jurisdiction, rather than create friction between myself and my Prince.> She twitches her tail fretfully.
Terenia has been alone for some time now, and her panic has subsided, allowing her to dwell on the events of the past few hours. So much has happened. Her host nearly died, she was forced to leave the Andalite for probably forever. Corliss had said that word to her. She had taken Mike as a host, not once, but twice, and Efaen had likely blown up her ship. So much had happened, and all she wanted now was...what? To regain a human body that wasn't truly her own?
And what was she going to tell Corliss? In the drama of switching from body to body and the shouts of accusations she had almost forgotten that he claimed to love her. She mentally shudders at the thought of it; it was absurd. Yet she had seen Mike's mind, and she could not deny that he had his own strong feelings for her.
This is impossible, she tells herself firmly. You know better than this, Terenia. Whether he cares for you or not, it will not last. Don't forget what happened to Tamora. People you care about do not last long.
Her emotions torn in a thousand different ways, she continues to swim in irritated squid-like circles, the lack of her usual senses giving her mind far too much time to think.
-
We looked at the young Andalite. We did not know what to say. Many of our memory engrams were returning to us...we remember our time with Pizali...with her brother. The day I decided not to go to the military. Their support...but I did not remember the day I was assimilated yet.
<Claxter, we...That is, I...am undecided as to what our next course of action should be. We are reverting to our Andalite nature subtly...but we are hesitant. We do not know why we ask of you advise either. You are but a child...an innocent. Can you...do you understand the pain?>
What were we doing, telling our troubles to this juvenile? We could express no emotion on our face. It was physically painful, and We habitually did nit care in the least if our face displayed emotion. Yet...my hearts seemed as if ablaze, lighted by the very weapons that enslaved me.
<We...we...forgive us, Claxter. This is not the proper time, for you or for us. I must...meditate. We will be in the forest. You should not stop me, it is to enhance the healing process.>
Theta turned and galloped off into the woods behind Ossanlin's ship. He had to get over these mood swings. But the only way to do that was to let go of the collective. And he needed to be alone for that.
-
Mar smiles a little as he's set into position. It occurs to him that he hasn't been fussed over in a long, long time. Not on his own merit as a person, anyway. Those who tended to him after a battle were doing so because they were afraid of angering him when his body did function, and he was rather used to having a dozen contingency plans for assassination attempts. Yet another peculiar aspect of being stuck in this Bar in the middle of nowhere.
Mar glances up at Elayne and states, "...Bar seems to have winded down, now. But the mix of enemies could explode at any moment, I will rest if it pleases you. Don't feel comfortable doing it here, though. Shall meet the War-Prince when I can stand up, and perhaps Corliss. Need updates. I've been out of it too long."
-
<I do not really understand your pain, and I am not wise to the ways of the galaxy.> Claxter said to Theta's fleeing back. He didn't know what else to say.
<If you want Prince Ossanlin's permission, and have to wait, but Corliss doesn't want to, then they'll have to leave without you and pick you up later. Prince Ossanlin could send you to the base later. Or perhaps you could give us a call soon. Say, if we haven't received a call within a day or two, we'll find you.> He said to Efaen.
<<That guy just doesn't care if he gets shot at all. Maybe he's wearing laser proof clothes.>> Derrel said, perplexed by Salem's attitude.
-
<<I do not believe that Prince Ossanlin is privy to the base location,>> Efaen says privately. <<Although I may be incorrect; I am basing my assumption solely on the limited interactions between Prince Ossanlin and the rebel leader. Regardless, I daresay that once I depart it will be difficult to find me.>>
She fixes Claxter with a considering gaze. <<I also presume that it will be difficult to maintain contact with the Andalites once I have departed. Perhaps it would be wise to arrange some sort of communication frequency of which the rebels will be unaware, either between the two of us or between Prince Ossanlin and I.>>
-
<<A special frequency wouldn't be a bad idea. I assumed that Prince Ossanlin already knows the base's location, but if he doesn't I'm afraid it won't be safe for you to leave without permission. So, do you know what kind of frequency would be good?>>
-
Efaen shrugs her stalks, uncertain. <<I presume that Prince Ossanlin would be more capable of ensuring secrecy in such matters than I. Computers were never my forte; I am a morphing specialist and, while I have basic training and am certainly more capable than any Yeerk, I would prefer to ensure the highest level of security in such matters. I know that Prince Ossanlin has put a good deal of trust in these supposed rebels, but I cannot imagine that he would balk at maintaining separate contact with me. Perhaps we would even be able to bypass contacting their leader again.>>
A look of carefully maintained concerned annoyance crosses her face. <<I do hope that our Prince regains his strength soon. I would prefer to resolve this issue promptly.>>
-
<<I too only have basic training, and no specialty. The least of which being computer transmition.>> Claxter tried to think of anyone who might be good with computers. <<I don't suppose...I could try contacting the Dome Ship. Maybe tell them we want to put an informant in the rebellion, but not say who or what it is, and we need a private transmition set up. They may be able to tell us how to do it. It's risky because we don't want them knowing it's you we're sending, especially since you dont have official permission yet.>>
-
Salem walked determinedly right into Temrash's open ship. Jagill was inside, along with a Hork-Bajir he didn't know. He did look familiar... Salem wasn't sure why he'd be important, however. In any case, he had things to discuss at the moment. He gave the unknown Hork-Bajir only a nod in greeting.
"Jagill, I need to talk to Temrash," he said.
-
Jagill was a little surprised when Salem walked in, but he opened the door to sickbay and pointed at temrash in the pool. "Here Temrash."
"Who is there?" Temrash asked.
"Salem speak to you now?"
"Oh, hello Salem. Corliss had a hunch I was behind it all, and threatened to blacklist me if I didn't admit guilt. So I went ahead and took responsibility. You should have been more discreet. Now I'm in deeper water, as are you."
-
Efaen hesitates. <<I am not sure that is wise, Claxter. Such an action would surely lead to questions regarding why Prince Ossanlin were not delivering the orders, which would mean revealing his current state. That may not be to our advantage; the currently acting captain may see it fit to return Ossanlin to the Tyrennian and from there leave the bar. That would not be to my advantage right now. No, I prefer to speak to Prince Ossanlin directly. For the time being I will merely hope that he wakes before the rebels decide to depart.>>
-
Salem stood for a moment, absorbing what Temrash had told him. Corliss had threatened something based on nothing more than a suspicion, and Temrash had sold him out. Now the Yeerk was nonchalantly talking about it as if it weren't even a big deal. The hair on the back of Salem's neck rose- this felt like a trap. But it couldn't be... could it?
Even shocked as he was, Salem took note of the system Temrash was using to communicate. That would be something handy for him to acquire. There was no time to deal with that now, though. What he really wanted was to get off this ship, and the sense that Temrash's betrayal might be a work in progress.
Without letting his anxiety show, he nodded, "Very well. Temrash, I'm calling our deal off." With that, he turned and began walking back out of the ship, watching both of the Hork-Bajir out of the corner of his eye, and letting his hand inch towards what looked like a short length of rope with a metallic ball at one end strapped to his belt.
-
<<I don't have any good ideas. Perhaps we could try to delay the rebels.>> Claxter said.
"He left." Jagill said.
"Well, I guess that's over. Get me out of here. I don't feel very relaxed anymore."
Jagill put Temrash back in his head, and Temrash turned to Kevlin. "I don't supposed you could think of a way to find the rebellion?"
-
"We could maybe tap into the transmission as it leaves for the rebellion. If the set up a link we may be able to track the signal but I'm not certain." Kevlin shrugged. Dara didnt put forth his opinion because he realized he was out of his league here. What they were talking about was beyond him.
-
<<Perhaps,>> Efaen concedes. <<I am certain they wish to remain in good standing with Prince Ossanlin. It is not every day that a Yeerk wins over an Andalite captain. We simply need to ensure that they are aware of the fact that Prince Ossanlin is incapacitated at the moment.>>
Efaen's slow walk has brought her to where Corliss, Illim, Jasper and Al are all standing in a loose circle. She comes to a halt as soon as she steps within comfortable range of her tail, which is still held at a comfortable, relaxed height.
<Yeerk,> Efaen says, addressing Corliss in open thought-speech. <My Prince is fatigued at the moment and has not been able to speak on my decisions regarding the rebellion. We will wait here at the bar until he rouses so that I can seek out his full permission and understanding of the matter.>
-
Claxter stood close to Efaen by Andalite standards. Corliss was in a bad mood right now, but hopefully he wouldn't have much problem with this. <Corliss, may I ask if prince Ossanlin knows exactly where the base is?>
"Yeah, if they leave we might be able to track them. Though Corliss is in super paranoid mode. The whole rebellion is kind of uptight. My ship has great stealth functions and speed, but I'm not totally confident I could follow him if he did leave without him knowing."
-
"What about an external tracking device? We could hopefully place it on the hull. They might never notice." Kevlin looked for the bag of supplies he had left in the ship. "I had one with the rest of my equipment."
-
We ran into the woods to think. To meditate. To...reflect...to process. Being one, alone was a terrifying experience. One which we will never put ourselves in again. But we had to. If just to get over it.
We stood in a clearing in the middle of the woods and closed all our eyes, except the eye that had been replaced by an interphasic scanner. That eye could not be closed, would never blink again.
We thought about Pizali...we thought about Chugilor. Esthip. Vetaq, Claxter's father. About Jaegis IV. About...that day when it all ended, yet somehow it all had just began.
None of the patrons, even the ones we were acquainted with, could understand our pain. Not even Vetaq's son. It's different really, everything the Alvie do to you. It's hard to tell whether the Alvie or the Yeerks are worse...the Yeerks take control of your body and can be fought, but they do it to conquer, simply to not be helpless. The Alvie pervert your body into a mess of machine and organism, and permanently take over your body, but they feel they are raising quality of life for others...
The Alvie. To us, there was no greater abomination. The Alvie would pay, eventually, for all the horrible things they've done to others...and to us.
We lied down. And thought some more...
-
"I doubt we'd be able to put one on without being detected. whatever salem did is still active, and he'll be running over every part of the ship just to get rid of it. We're on very very thin ice here. Corliss doesn't even believe I can be useful to the rebellion, and I don't know how to prove it to him if he won't even test my abilities. This is all Terenia's fault. I'm really starting to hate that nothlit."
-
Jasper and Sapttus stood quietly a short distance away as Salem was talking. They busied themselves studying the exterior of the bar, examing the small cracks and design flaws that he inevitably picked out all the time.
<<Who built this thing? They'd better have had their architect's license revoked...>>
<<I would imagine a building that can self-reassemble such as this one isn't held under the same building codes as your familiar with, Jasper.>>
<<Well, yeah, but... this thing just shouldn't be standing!>>
<<From the looks of things, we left the normal laws of physics back on Earth.>>
He wasn't even aware when Salem left; Jasper was too busy trying to understand how the walls were strong enough to hold up to any pressure. From the looks of things, he should be able to just push it over, but...
<<This place is weird.>> He said.
<<You're just now coming to that conclusion?>>
Salem looked behind them, and realized that their party had left. "...oops..." Jasper said. "Now what?" "I guess we'll go back to the bar and wait. That was the plan, I thought."
-
Corliss glares at Salem as the humanoid creature walks off, and he turns the same skeptical sneer onto Al. All he knew about the holographic entity was that he was Salem's lackey, and that made Corliss instantly suspicious.
"What a bloody smooth talker," Corliss says broodingly, looking up at Illim, worry softening his scowl.
He steps back with a start as Efaen approaches, raising his Dracon.
"Will Ossanlin survive?" he asks, eyeing Efaen's tail.
-
<All scans indicate he should make a recovery. We're just not sure how long until he comes around.> Caxter said. His tail twitched when Corliss raised the dracon at Efaen, but he didn't say anything. The Yeerk was probably just on edge for some reason, and he shouldn't blow it out of proportion. Still, he found his hand hovering over his shredder.
-
Efaen eyes Corliss' Dracon Beam warily, her own hand finding the butt of her Shredder - or rather, the Shredder that Claxter had lent her. She does not pull the weapon, instead choosing to fix the human Controller with a steady, cold gaze.
<As Warrior Claxter said, Prince Ossanlin should, in time, make a full recovery. In the meantime, we will wait,> Efaen says, having no qualms about ordering Corliss around. <I shall wait in the bar, should you require my presence.> She turns to leave, not wanting to speak with the Yeerk for longer than necessary.
-
"Why are you getting yourself involved in this?" Elayne asks Mar with a sigh, sinking into the chair beside his. "I mean, why risk your life for Ossanlin? Why get updates from him and Corliss? If anyone should be interested in what they're doing, it should be me; it's part of my fight." She hesitates. "At least, it was."
<<Maybe. That makes me nervous,>> Illim tells Derrel. <<There's a difference between being reckless and daring someone to attack. It's not hard to imagine he may have something retaliatory up his sleeve.>>
Illim raises his eyebrows, leaning closer to Corliss to murmur quietly, "Do you think Terenia'd agree? What's the harm in just going now?" Bringing an Andalite to the base frightens even Illim. He recognizes that Serid did not entirely fit his race's stereotype--a rarity.
-
Corliss sighs, exasperated. "Believe me, Illim, I wish we could leave now," he hisses. "I made a promise to that human girl that I'd get her body back, even though I'm completely at a loss as to how to do it."
He turns back to Efaen as she saunters off. "Wait, Andalite," he calls. "We can't afford to wait here until Ossanlin fully recovers. Who knows how long that could take, and I've been at this damned place long enough. I do have responsibilities at the base, you know, and we have at least one new inductee."
Corliss casts a wary glance at Al and Claxter. How quickly would they be able to react? Of course, the Andalite's tail would be the quickest immediate response...
-
Efaen pauses, turning only a stalk eye to Corliss, rather than bothering to give him her full attention. Even in just the one stalk the arrogance of her glare is almost palpable.
<Your responsibilities matter little to me, Yeerk,> she says coldly. <We will depart when I have managed to fully see to my affairs, and no sooner.>
She continues to saunter away, clearly seeing him as no threat to her.
-
Claxter hadn't really heard Corliss refer to Efaen as Terenia's body, though he was keeping an eye on the guy. <Corliss, perhaps it would be good to go ahead, and either pick Efaen up later, or we could send her to the base later. I understand if you have responsibilities, but Efaen wants to do this the right way. She does not want to commit a traitorous act, so she must make sure she has her superior's permission.> He said. He did not follow Efaen because he wanted to make sure things were squared away with Corliss.
-
Mar glances at Elayne, his expression unreadable. The truth of the matter is that he doesn't really know what his reasons are. Ossanlin, technically, is an Andalite War-Prince in a universe that has no relevance to Mar whatsoever. Elayne is a random rebel in a sea of others like her. Yet still...
"There is one thing I do know," mutters Mar, his voice gaining a bit of strength. His heart rate is slowly reaching more reasonable levels. "Ossanlin has...not hated me despite having every reason to. I love a friend of his and gain benefits from the domination of the Empire he fights. Yet ever since...Myitt....ne arly died he has assisted me. He is...a friend. That is why I am helping. As for the Bar..."
Mar grins. "...well, I live here. I can't leave, or I'll die. I might as well find out what I intend to do here."
-
Salem breathed a sigh of relief as he cleared the area of Temrash's ship. He walked briskly back over to the group that included Corliss- two Andalites had now arrived as well- Claxter and the female Salem had seen around a few times. Corliss looked every bit as tense as he had when Salem had walked off, but now it seemed he was directing his energy towards the female Andalite.
Doesn't that Yeerk ever calm down? Salem wondered to himself. As he stepped up to the group, he nodded at Corliss and smiled at Jasper, then turned to Al.
"Hey, I need to talk to you for a minute," he said, and without waiting for an answer, led Al a little ways away by his shirt sleeve.
Al made a show of appearing very confused before turning to Salem with a grin, "What's up?"
"Yeerk sold us out," Salem said tersely, using the Atazin galactic language for fear that they'd be overheard. "He said he was a former Visser. I expected more control. I think I need to start running background checks on clients."
Al laughed and replied in Gallard, "So why do you need to tell me about it?"
"We need to get our friends off his ship," Salem said quietly, still using the Atazin language, with a glance towards Corliss.
"And you can't just ask him for access to his ship's power system because...?" Al prodded with a smirk, switching to the Atazin language himself.
Salem glared at Al, "Because then he'd know I'd been lying about what I'd done. Or... what I hadn't. Whatever."
Al smirked at him, "I've got news for you, dude. I think he's already pretty aware that you screwed with his ship."
The pair continued arguing quietly a short distance from the group that'd formed.
-
Corliss was making Claxter wary. He was supposed to be an ally, but had the posture of an enemy. Why did he have his weapon out, anyway? It was aggressive behaviour. What was that he had whispered to the other controller just now? He wasn't a great Warrior, but this was still sending out warning bells. He tried to make himself look relaxed while keeping eyes on both of them, and his hand and tail at the ready. His earlier question had gone unanswered, and if he was being ignored he may use it to his advantage.
-
Illim raises an eyebrow in response to Efaen's dismissive words. The Andalite male's suggestion amuses Illim, as it is so close to what he'd prefer to do with Efaen, himself.
"Yeah, that or I could always stun her," he remarks to Corliss offhandedly, giving a bland smile and a shrug. He doesn't appear to care that both Andalites can likely hear him.
Elayne slowly nods, looking down, his answer making her a little ashamed of even asking. "You're right," she says. "I just worry; I don't want you to be taken away. It's all selfish, of course," she adds, giving him a small smile. It begs the question, though... what I intend to do here.
-
<Oh is that why Corliss has had his weapon out?> Claxter said, drawing his. <Any such attack would be betrayal, after Efaen has agreed to work with you. If you intend to take her by force, I'll assume you only wanted her to put that nothlit back in her head. In which case, I'll gladly put tail into you both.> He walked towards them, weapon drawn on Corliss.
<<Why did you have to say that so loud?>> Derrel asked.
-
"Holy hell, you uppity Andalite," Illim rolls his eyes, raising his hands, palms out, to indicate his Dracon has been put away. "I was kidding. Will you relax?" He takes a few steps forward to make sure he has Claxter's attention.
-
<You think this is a joking matter? I already have suspicions about your true reasons for wanting Efaen, and you're making jokes? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but no one is laughing. I've already had to put tail in Corliss once, and that was before he spent much time with Terenia. I don't trust either one of them, and I don't trust you either.>
<Efaen has agreed to work with you, but she works for Prince Ossanlin. If you attempt to enslave her again, I' well within my rights to attack.>
-
<Warrior Claxter,> Efaen says sharply, stopping for a second time in her walk to the bar. <Please desist. If these Yeerks are foolish enough to attack me then they clearly do not value our arrangement. They know that I will come of my own free will, once Prince Ossanlin has given confirmation.>
She switches to private thought-speak, directed only at Claxter. <<In the meantime, allow them to act of their own accord. I would rather be made aware of their true intentions now than when I am alone, stranded at their base. If they must shoot me, let them shoot me. They will not kill me, not so long as Terenia is twisting the Controller's actions to suit her needs.>>
-
<I apologize.> Claxter said to Efaen, putting his shredder away against his better judgement. <It seems I do not fully understand Human humor.>
<<Perhaps it would be better, if you choose to work with Yeerks, that you could at least work for someone who is friendly? Like that Temrash guy? At least he has shown loyalty to Prince Ossanlin.>>
-
<<Are you referring to the Yeerk who physically assaulted me? The same Yeerk whose medical incompetence nearly killed me?>> Efaen asks. <<With all due respect, I prefer aptitude over congeniality. Regardless, I do not trust any Yeerk's supposed kindness. At least these rebels do not hide their contempt for me. I know where they stand.>>
-
<<I will not judge him for giving into his emotions from time to time, and just because he is not a doctor does not mean he didn't at least try to help you. Which apparently he did, as you are not dead. His loyalty to Prince Ossanlin can not be questioned at this point. You would rather be with Corliss, who obviously holds little loyalty to our Prince, if any, over someone who obviously is loyalty, and may be hiding contempt fo you under what is obviously some effort to help?>>
He didn't say what he was thinking of her. There was every chance that she was just insane. An honorable Warrior, yes, but insane nonetheless.
-
<<You are defending a Yeerk, soldier,>> Efaen says, not hiding the sneer in her voice. <<Do you understand that? Temrash, Corliss, they are all one and the same. Filthy parasites who seek only to control and conquer. The only difference between the two is that Corliss, as of yet, has not attempted to physically harm me. Do you really think Temrash's kindness an attempt at bridging our species differences? Are you that foolish? Do you not see that he is manipulating you? Of course he feigns loyalty to a Prince as powerful as Ossanlin. He is a former Visser; he understands power. He will use you and he will use Prince Ossanlin, all with the guise of friendliness. And you, apparently, are playing right into his trap.>>
She eyes Corliss' weapon warily for a moment, before continuing. <<These rebel Yeerks detest me openly. They have minimal resources and they are desperate. It will be much easier for me to use them than it will be for me to use Temrash. My entire purpose in joining the rebellion is to undermine them, to prove that they are truly allied with the Empire and report my findings to the Andalite military. I cannot do that from another Yeerk ship.>>
-
<<They are not the same. Just as we are not the same. They are not of one mind. Just paying attention to them will tell you as much. If temrash wanted to use Prince Ossanlin, he'd already be a controller. Captured and taken somewhere that Temrash could do whatever he wanted to our Prince. When you have something valuable in the palm of your hand, and no one has the ability to stop you from taking it, there has to be a really good reason not to take it. What more could Temrash gain from an alliance with Prince Ossanlin, than a host that can tear holes in space and manipulate time itsself?>>
-
<<And do you think that Temrash would rush in, blades blazing to capture someone with such power?>> Efaen scoffs. <<You saw Prince Ossanlin in action yourself; anyone with an iota of sense would be hesitant in attempting to subdue such power. If Temrash were an intelligent Yeerk he would not seek merely to capture Prince Ossanlin, but to make our Prince believe that the Yeerk is fighting for the same cause, that he is an ally. I believe you are overlooking an essential component of Yeerk physiology, Claxter. They are subtle and manipulative by nature. They do not rely on brute force to achieve their goals.>>
-
Claxter decided not to argue further. This was a touchy subject for her, and arguing would only cause friction between them. There was still the matter at hand. Corliss cared nothing for her as a person, and the thought of him taking her to be enslaved just made him frustrated.
-
<<I understand that you are concerned,>> Efaen says, softening slightly at Claxter's silence. <<But I assure you, that my actions are in the best interest of the People. I will not fall under Yeerk sway. My days as a Controller are over, I assure you of that. I am doing this for us, for our People.>>
-
<<I wish I had as much strength and confidence as you do. I think you would have gotten along with my former Prince very well.>>
-
Mar slowly stood up from his place, testing how solid his footing was. The truth of the matter was that he was as confused as Elayne: he had no idea what his place was in this war.
'I always saw mortal affairs from either the outside or the front line,' muttered Mar with a grin. 'Now I am the fool in the middle. Mm, oh well. There are so many here who are rich with corruption. I will find my position yet.'
-
After a few minutes of argument, Salem and Al had reached a conclusion about what to do with the Malleon that'd been placed aboard Corliss's ship. They turned and walked back towards the group, Al with a smirk, Salem with a bit of a sickened look on his face.
Al took a place beside Jasper and nudged his shoulder. "Ready to watch Salem get reamed? This oughtta be good," he said to Jasper in a stage whisper, loudly enough to be overheard by both Salem and Corliss.
Salem shot Al a quick glare and took a breath. He quickly looked around and sized up the situation. It looked as if the two Andalites were locked in a private thought-speech conversation. It occurred to Salem for a moment that the female held a proud posture that usually denoted a Warrior among males. He might have to speak to her when he got the chance. Illim and Corliss still seemed quite tense. Normally he'd let this go and simply wait for a better opportunity to speak with them, but he couldn't actually see Corliss becoming less tense until his ship was taken care of.
"Corliss," he started, hesitating only briefly before continuing, "The thing on your ship... it's intelligent. A species of microbe called Malleon. The individual microbes have no real capacity for thought, but they've got... I guess you'd call it a collective consciousness. The entire swarm can think as one mind."
He stopped, and looked from Corliss to Illim, trying to gauge their reactions before continuing, "I have a large colony living within my own ship's systems. It's beneficial to both of us. My ship supplies them with energy, and in return, they're able to manipulate and repair the ship's systems on a microscopic level. I'll never need to repair or replace another component. Right now, the small culture aboard your ship is one with the hive mind on mine. I don't think there's a limit to how far apart they can be and still hear each other."
He took another breath. Here goes. "As an offer of... trust between me and your Rebellion, I'd like to offer to leave them aboard your ship. I'd set you up to be able to communicate with them. I'll let them know that you're friends, and they... should agree to learn your ship, and keep it in good repair." He swallowed and looked back and forth. He knew that, in theory, he'd still be in charge of the Malleon if the Rebellion decided to betray him or sell him out as Temrash had done, but on the off-chance that Corliss agreed, he'd still be taking a huge risk.
"What do you think?"
-
<<Perhaps,>> Efaen says, smiling tightly. <<No doubt he would understand the importance of this mission I am preparing to undertake. Now, if you'll excuse me. I require reprieve.>>
She fixes Corliss with a stalk eye, noting his weapon, but shrugging its presence off. <As I said before, Yeerk,> she reminds him. <We will leave upon my orders, after I have spoken with and gained clearance from Prince Ossanlin.> She turns and begins walking back towards the bar, determined not to be stopped this time around.
-
"And these intelligent microbes, they would be able to trace my ship's location, wouldn't they?" Corliss demands, glaring at Salem.
He shifts his attention back to Efaen as the Andalite girl starts to walk away.
"I don't take orders from you, Andalite!" he calls, keeping the weapon trained on Efaen's retreating backside. "Get back here or I swear I'll drag you back!"
-
Claxter restrained himself from just lopping Corliss' arm off. With Efaen wanting him to let Corliss attack her if he chose, Claxter stormed off to his ship. It was the only thing that would keep him from getting violent with the Yeerk. If only he could do something. If only his prince would wake up and come out, and put Corliss in his place.
-
<I do not believe that you will, Yeerk,> Efaen says simply, not pausing in her saunter.
-
Corliss's question caught Salem by surprise. He'd been so concerned with what it meant to offer the microbes to Corliss that he hadn't considered the obvious first question.
"Um..." he stammered, unsure of the answer. He looked over at Al, but Al just grinned and shrugged, then waved Salem's attention back towards Corliss in a way that clearly said leave me out of this.
"They... might," he conceded. "I'm not actually sure. I've never tried to have them do something like that, but... they must have a way of locating other members of their species, right?" He shrugged, "I can ask them, if you like. Might take some explaining. And we'll have to make sure they agree to this deal as well." He pulled his communicator from his pocket, prepared to call the Malleon aboard his ship at Corliss's say-so.
-
Corliss, furious at Efaen's dismissal of his threat, ignores Salem entirely as he aims his Dracon.
"That's too bad," he says coldly, firing the weapon on stun at Efaen's retreating back.
-
Claxter wasn't quite far away to not hear the dracon fire. He almost turned around, but decided to keep going to his ship. This was her decision, and he let her make it. He wasn't in charge of her. He'd do just about anything for her, but he couldn't help her if she refused help. Still, if he ever got in tail strike range of that Yeerk again, it would be the second time he'd put tail in him over Efaen.
-
We processed our predicament.
What were we doing? Alone? This was the one situation we did not want to find ourselves in. No voices...no directive...no function.
Is this hell?
We felt desperately for the collective. The minds of our brothers, masters. We attempted to define a role for our continued individuality. But we failed. We would never see our associates again. Chugilor...Vetaq...
Pizali...
What was this? Confusion, desperation, loneliness. It was not to be tolerated. If we assimilated others, we would not be alone again. Never.
We turned, opening all our eyes. Our deliberation was complete. We ran off towards Claxter, using our interphasic scanner to locate his residual molecular signature.
-
The Dracon shot takes Efaen entirely by surprise; she truly did not expect the Yeerk to fire. It hits her in the small of her back, where her upper body meets her torso. The energy beam causes her body to jerk and twitch before falling to the gravel ground in a heap, completely and totally unconscious.
-
<<Well, he really did shoot.>> Derrel said. <<I'm not even sure I'm strong enough to help him get her to the ship.>>
-
Salem watched as Efaen crumpled, his senses on edge. Corliss was appearing less and less stable by the minute. He was really starting to second-guess his decision to continue trying to deal with him. He hand inched towards his gun, and he looked back and forth from Corliss to Claxter. Based on the way the Warrior had seemed with the female, he expected him to attack, but it didn't look like this was going anywhere. There was tension in the air, but it wasn't directed at him. He felt no control over this situation.
"I can see you're busy," he muttered to Corliss. "We'll talk later then." Without another word, he spun and walked towards the door of the bar, though this time he was more careful to glance occasionally at Corliss over his shoulder.
-
We were nearing fresher molecular residue. We scanned the area ahead, and found Claxter.
You will be assimilated.
We came up next to him, maneuvering our right arm to put the injection tubules close to his forelegs.
<Claxter, our deliberation has proved enlightening.>
-
<Glad one of us is happy.> Claxter said, distracted by his thoughts. <Make a mental note. We don't like Corliss.> He looked at his communicator, which was connected to the Mirage. It should tell him when his Prince woke up. Why hasn't it notified him yet?
-
<We have come to a directive; we do not want to be alone. There is only way We will never be isolated. We must establish a new collective.>
We launched the tubules at Claxter's shoulder. We prepared the nanoprobes for injection once we penetrated his epidermis.
<We will establish a new collective. We can be a peaceful organization. As long as we are not isolated — ever.>
-
Illim's eyebrows shoot skyward, and he gives Corliss a startled nod. He thinks he's starting to rather like this guy, if only he weren't so insistent on bringing Efaen along.
"I actually was kidding, you know," he murmurs to Corliss, looking down at his new body's arms, trying to judge if Derrel is right about his strength. <<You think? Well alright. We can try, I guess,>> he says to Derrel.
Elayne stands as well, holding out her arms to seize Mar if he topples. "That's all well and good," she says, her brow furrowed, "but are you sure you should be moving about yet?"
It is strange, she abruptly notices, how much the Bar has brought out mothering instincts she hadn't even know she had. First Trey, and now her... interdimensional boyfriend. Great.
She sighs and lowers her arms. "I mean, I'm sure you're fine. Just... let me know if you need help.
-
<<I have no idea if I'm strong enough to help carry her. I'm not exactly the Man of steel here. She is going to be ticked when she wakes up. His Highness is probably going to be ticked when he finds us, and don't get within tail's reach of that Claxter guy either. Tell Corliss that last part too.>> They'd likely be dragging her more than carrying her.
Claxter turned his stalk eye to Theta when he mentioned establishing a new collective, and saw him coming with the needle. He jerked back, though he thought he felt the tip go in. <Hey! Knock it off! You know, as much as our species as a whole doesn't like being alone, having some privacy once in a while is actually healthy. Don't go sticking me with anything!> He wasn't sure if the Alvie was taking Gremyyt over again, or if he just wasn't taking his current situation well. <What are you trying to do to me?> He pulled his weapon out, and arced his tail in a battle position.
-
|THETA-PI|
We had injected a few hundred nanoprobes into Claxter. Soon, he would be interconnected.
<Claxter...we cannot be isolated. We will not allow it. It is...disconcerting.>
|OGREON|
Three red glows appeared. A few seconds later they dispersed to reveal a Clangst and two humans.
"Well, Van. Ewa. I'm glad I could assist. Remember if you need help with your ship, my engineers can beam down at any time."
-
Van was a bit taken aback at how easily they were beamed out. His accent regaining strength, he blurted, "Wait, but don't we need the teleporter room to- Ah, mal ishvisaa... What-ever."
The pirate sighed, helpless. Even when his ship was back into a more serviceable state, there was no way he could compare to the Urtahn. Back home, he was in a class of his own, especially for a space pirate. He, and the lucky few like him, had ships that stood out from the pack.
Most pirates had barely passable ships cobbled together from stolen parts, or small fighters captured from various government entities and re-calibrated for illegal activity. Small fighting ships were common, but big ships -perfect for carrying large shipments illegal freight- were more useful. Van had the best of both worlds, plus the added bonus of what could be called luxury-class living quarters.
But, that was a story for another day.
Van shook his head. Being a world away from everything he knew, there was probably no point in worrying. It just stung a little. He stared down towards the Bar....
-
Ogreon shrugged slightly, "The transporter buffer is only needed for an added safety, and if we need a stronger transport signal. The walls are all equipped with hologram emitters, replicator nodes, and transporter energizers. Holodecks, replicator terminals, and transport buffers are all just for more certainty in the process."
-
<You're not isolated, Gremyyt. This rock has a lot of people on it, and some of them would surely be willing to pass the time with you if you don't go sticking needles in me. Now what did you do that for? Did you put something in my bloodstream?> Claxter started to feel strange. was it because of what Gremyyt, or Theta, did to him? Or was it just him getting paranoid? <You have some explaining to do.>
-
<We injected you with several hundred nanoprobes. We will soon be able to hear eachother's thoughts. We will be as one. We will never be isolated. We explained it to you earlier; the nanoprobes will replicate themselves and create internal mechanisms for specific uses, first the transmitter that will keep our two minds in contact, then the hyperadrenaline store. After that, they may begin creating outlets for external implants. If there are no implants attached within two 24 hour periods, they will create their own. Perfection is in our grasp. Your body will be mechanically and biologically enhanced. We will work together, our minds as one.>
We were burning inside again...how many others had we done this to for the whims of the Alvie collective? Now we were assimilating Vetaq's son into a nanocollective of two for...our whims. Our devices. It was the only way.
-
<That's kind of creepy. I think we have laws against adult males being one with young males in any way.> From his description, it looked like Claxter would have time before anything really bad happened. <You don't want to be isolated? Fine. Just stay with me, follow my orders, and don't inject nanoprobes into anyone else.>
-
((Not sure how to go from there...you kinda creeped me out, rofl)
-
Van walked towards the Bar. Since he had last been there, the atmosphere had... changed.
There was an intense feeling of tension in the air, as if the building was holding its breath. Van cringed. This was definitely not a situation he should mess around with. The pirate brushed his fingers through his hair, untangling the mess as best he could, and glanced around.
Maybe having a chat with Ewa some more would help? Perhaps, though he didn't quite sense her presence. That chick has a serious talent for stealth. Throw in her presto-change-o ability to change her appearance, and she'd make a great smuggler. Heh, perfect for my line of work. Mmm, chaa. I should ask her about that.
He scanned the Bar again for her, but then remembered he had more important things to do. Van had turned to leave in order to tend to his ship, when somebody caught his eye. And, it wasn't Ewa. That face. He'd recognize that face anywhere.
Ready to call him out, Van stopped himself as soon as he realized that the individual was rather... weak at the moment. Interesting.
He blinked, and noticed the woman beside him. Suddenly curious, Van walked over, "Anh, Oligarch Mar-zhen! You don't look too well... Mmm. Nichaa, who's the lady?"
The pirate looked her over, then rested his gaze rested once again on the weakened Mar. He smiled, and licked his lips, satisfied.
Well, well. You look like quite pathetic. Where's your Armada? I think I'm going to enjoy this.
-
Ogreon walked over to the man with Van, "Do you know him?"
Turning to the man, who looked bedraggled and beaten, "I am Ambassador Ogreon of the UAI Urtahn. My doctor just treated this man here for a broken bone. You look tired and injured yourself. Would you like any help?"
-
Elayne's eyebrows shoot downwards as Mar is addressed rather familiarly, and she watches Van suspiciously. "My name's Elayne," she says, pushing her dark hair out of the way with an impatient flick of her hand. "And I can speak for myself. Who are you?"
The change in her tone of voice around strangers is noticeable, particularly when addressing ones that appear to know her injured, and rather unpopular, boyfriend harm.
-
Van grinned at Ogreon, and replied, "Vangulsi- Anh, I mean, that guy, Ambassador, is Oligarch Mar Le'saith. A top dog of our so-called The Galactic Federation."
The pirate shifted his weight slightly, and then frowned. Something wasn't right about Mar. His hair was too long, and too... white. His clothing was also very... odd.
Van clenched his teeth, Gabo... Renfe va Mar-zhen nani vangulsaa? Zhon! Just what is the big-deal?
His wandering thoughts were cut short by the woman, who referred to herself as Elayne. That terse attitude... Van couldn't help but be rather tickled by it. She reminded him of someone he knew back home, and he felt his heart jump.
Flirting, however, seemed hardly appropriate. It never exactly won over the person she reminded him of, and it seemed unlikely to work here.
"Ah, he might know me," Van said, his pitch rising and falling in rhythmic pattern, "I'm called Van Aldbaran. I am a mercenary, pirate, smuggler... The outlaw."
"Last I saw him," he pointed at Mar, "He was the in-law. Ah, that's not right... The word, zaa... Which was it? The Gee Man? The... The British Navy... man?"
Van's struggling was rather comical, yet not without its intentions. Mess up a language enough times, and people tend to dismiss you as an idiot. When he wasn't burning ears off with his native sing-song twang, Van would discuss his terms in frighteningly proper speech.
-
Ogreon tilted his head and brought a shoulder up, what passed for raising an eyebrow, "So-called? So your Federation is not benevolent? Oligarch implies something other than a democracy. Ironic they should have such a similar title to the Transgalactic Federation...uh, not to draw to much attention to myself and my own universe, you seem to be...preoccupied."
After Van introduced himself to the lady known as Elayne, Ogreon raised his front two legs and performed a human bow, "And I am Ambassador Ogreon of the UAI Urtahn."
-
Ossanlin's eyes shoot open as he suddenly regains consciousness. His dreams had been...uncomfortabl e at best. He seemed to remember his dreams now...in their entirety. Before, they had always sunk into oblivion a few moments after he woke, but not anymore. Some dreams were perhaps best left forgotten.
It takes Ossanlin a moment to realize where he is, the med-bay on the Mirage. He commands the computer to relay the position of any other life-forms on the vessel. Finding none, he commands the restraint field to release and he sets his hooves on the floor. He quickly grabs a support rail riveted to the wall. Yes...weakness...ve ry weak. But he could feel his strength returning, a sort of warmth spreading throughout his body. The energy...the places he had gone during that battle, at least spiritually...were unlike anyting he'd ever experienced. Mar...he hoped Mar was alright.
Ossanlin feels twinges of pain and looks down at his arm, side, and flank. Dried blood marks large gashes opened up by his competitor's weapons. Blood begins to trickle again as his movement re-opens the wounds. He grunts in the Andalite fashion and closes his eyes, focusing on his hork-bajir form. The changes begin slowly, his skin scaling and his pupils changing to snake-like slits. Then the changes increase in speed until twenty seconds later, a fully-formed hork-bajir stands grasping the rail. Ossanlin considers reversing the morph immediately but decides that the more-substantial hork-bajir frame might be easier to support in his weakened state.
Ossanlin lets go of the support rail and leans against the wall of the med-bay, making his way to the exit ramp. He commands it open and slowly descends, his legs gaining strength with each step. Yes...he's coming back from that cold abyss. He sets his large, reptillian feet on the surface of the planetoid and blinks a bit before walking a few steps away from the Mirage and commanding the hatch to close, locked again to his thought-command alone. He looks around the shipyard trying to spot anyone in the vicinity, namely Mar. He wants to confirm that the other being is alright.
Ossanlin notices the strange mechanoid Andalite some ways off, and that would make the other Andalite with him Claxter. His eyes then fall upon the crumpled form of another Andalite quite reminiscent of Efaen. He huffs as he limps toward her prone form...had she disobeyed him? Had she somehow gotten too close to that strange human warrior? Was she injured? Why was no one assisting her? He notices Corliss and Illim also standing some distance away, though making no moves to assist her.
He kneels next to her, grunting vocally. <Efaen...are you conscious? Where is your injury?> He scans her body with his eyes, noting no visible marks or wounds. He places a single finger on her neck, monitoring her blood-flow. It seems at a normal, relaxed pace. Strange that she was unconscious with stable vitals. He places the same sensitive finger on her cheek, she seemed to have good temperature. Either she was having some sort of neural dysfunction...or she'd been stunned. Ossanlin notes her position on the gravel...there were no opponents in front of her unless they had run away, she had had her back to Corliss and Illim...why had she been stunned?
"You two, did you see what happened? Was she in a fight?" Ossanlin calls vocally to Corliss and Illim in Gallard.
-
Claxter finally got the communication that Ossanlin was awake, and trotted towards the Mirage. He was next to Efaen now, in Hork-Bajir form and talking to Corliss. He stood by his Prince, but said nothing. Let the Yeerk explain himself. He kept an eye towards Theta. He'd have to watch this guy carefully. The shredder he had drawn on the disturbed Andalite was still out, and he didn't feel like putting it back.
-
Corliss doesn't spare Salem or Illim a glance, glaring down at Efaen's body.
<<Great,>> Mike sighs. <<Now you've shot her. Tell me, do you intend to drag her body back with my bloody arms?>>
He only looks up with the big Hork-Bajir steps over and checks Efaen's pulse.
Corliss' eyes narrow at the thought-speech voice, then at the vaguely familiar, gravelly Hork-Bajir one.
"Ossanlin?" he asks skeptically, lowering his Dracon. "You're alive. I...I'm glad. No, she wasn't in a fight." He hesitates, swallowing. "I stunned her. She's coming back to the base for interrogation."
The words fall flat and his shoulders sink.
<<What am I doing?>> he wonders silently.
-
Ossanlin looks down at Efaen and then back up at Corliss again, eyes a bit wide in disbelief at first. They narrow quickly though. <Yes, it is me, and yes, I'm alive. You certainly sound relieved.> Ossanlin's thought drips with sarcasm.
<It doesn't matter, you do not have to like me just as I do not have to like you. However when you meddle with a Warrior under my command, it is very much my business.>
Ossanlin looks back at Efaen, knowing that she should be able to "hear" him in some sense. <Efaen, please attempt to regain consciousness, it is important that I hear the details of this interchange.>
He stands and walks a bit closer to Corliss, standing between the controller and Efaen. <Coming back to the base for interrogation? What complete...what is it the humans say? What complete bull...is that not the expression? You told me earlier that Efaen has decided upon her own authority to join the rebellion. Did she change her mind? And from the position of her body, she was in a relaxed stance, most-likely walking away from you...so you must've shot her in the back when she clearly trusted you not to do so. Oh and I should also mention that you have a living memory of Efaen in Terenia, so what end would an interrogation serve? And even if an interrogation were justified, why not do it on the premesis where her commanding officer would also have access to the information?>
<This does not sit well Corliss. Were it not for your relation to Myitt, I would detain you for interrogation regarding this incident. It seems that every time I begin to trust you, you show me why I should not. Efaen will not be going with you, especially not after this. Whether you like it or not, she is a living, breathing, sentient being...not a vessel for a disgruntled and dysfunctional human Yeerk notlit. All you are doing is harming Terenia's chances of ever having the usage of her own original body again. Why should Efaen have even a single iota of desire to cooperate after this?> Ossanlin holds his fist up between himself and the human-Controller. <You are treading in dangerous water Yeerk. Once Efaen regains consciousness I will hear the full story...if I feel you are unstable or are compromising the rebellion in any way, I will contact Reven and report such directly to him. Whether you are brothers or not, Reven has the good of hundreds, no...thousands to think of...he can't afford to play favorites and neither can I. Should you wish to give me a less falsified account of the situation, I will take it into consideration as well. For now I must transport my Warrior to the Mirage to assist in her recovery from an apparently unprovoked and out-of-hand attack.>
Ossanlin turns and glances at Claxter. <Hello Warrior, I will need assistance in transporting Efaen...I am somewhat weak at the moment. Do you have a morph capable of transporting her?>
-
Ossanlin's thought-speech penetrates Efaen's subconscious, easing a bit of the blackness there. Her stalk eyes twitch slightly, but otherwise she shows no indication of moving. Her body remains inert, sprawled awkwardly on the gravel.
Terenia's frustration and panic is beginning to grow again. She is beginning to think that she truly has been abandoned. Trying to ward off another panic attack, she connects her palps to the pool's computer, trying to distract herself in the Yeerkish games available there.
-
<Yes, my Prince.> Claxter said. He began morphing the Gorilla-like alien which may be strong enough to get her to the Mirage on its own. Frankly, he hadn't tested the limits of its strength. Corliss was obviously untrustworthy, and he didn't like being vulnerable in front of him. <<Theta. If you wish to be...an inseperable partner to me, I would issue you a command. If either of those Yeerks looks like they're about to fire on us, shoot them.....non fataly.>>
-
Upon finding herself back in the bar, Ewa moved to inspect the wall that had reconstructed itself when she first arrived. Projected reconstruction was easy. They might have even drawn the debris together and just projected the end result. It was an interesting phenomenon though--certainly the bar hadn't bothered to clean itself while it went about its repairs.
She ran her hands over the wall, but it felt exactly as her eyes told her it should. She grabbed a nearby chair for comparison. Only idiots project chairs. But she still couldn't find a difference.
No difference, just like the clothes.... She began rubbing the hem of her coat between her fingers again. Her mind went very still--not so that she would stop thinking but to give her thought space to crystallize, so that when it whispered it would echo once and lie quiet rather than slinking through the back of her mind.
What if this is real?
Too abstract to answer.
How can I know if this is real?
-
Theta did not move, We do not need to use our primitive thought-speak. Our(For now the word we would take new meaning for Claxter) interlink has been activated. The nanoprobes are working. We will monitor the Yeerks. There is one bit of information we must know; once the nanoprobes create larger implants, our morphs will be restricted. The nanotransmitter will not hinder our morphing, but we cannot morph anything smaller than one millimeter. Once the hyperadrenaline store is created, we will not be able to morph anything smaller than our fore-leg's circumference. Those are the smallest of the implants.
((All this would come to claxter in a nanosecond.))
Theta raised his finished SION claw, and prepared to level his quantryon weapon if the Yeerks moved.
-
Salem walked through the front door of the bar and looked around. For once, it appeared relatively quiet in the bar itself. Even so, there were several new beings he didn't recognize. He pulled his persona imager from his pocket, pointed it in succession at the two creatures that appeared human, and at the one alien whose species he didn't recognize, and clicked a button on it, causing it to trill.
Once he'd clicked it at all three, he stuck it back in his pocket and sighed. What he really needed right now was to talk to Ossanlin or Illim. He didn't know where Ossanlin had gone, however, and Illim seemed insistent on remaining near Corliss. Salem was starting to think that he didn't want anything more to do with Corliss than necessary. If that meant he wouldn't get a chance to trade with the so-called Yeerk Rebellion, so be it. If he was a typical example of their people, they wouldn't be worth the trouble.
After a moment of staring blankly at the bar's current occupants, he shrugged. He'd gotten more and more into business mode as he'd spent time here, but it wouldn't hurt to take a break. He was sure Al would agree enthusiastically.
He walked over to the table around which Ogreon, Van, Mar and Elayne were gathered.
"Elayne, Mar," he said with a smile to the two sitting individuals he knew. He then turned to the two newcomers, "Hi, guys. Name's Salem."
-
I will practice. Claxter said. This was much faster than normal Thoughtspeak. It wouldn't be too bad to use it a bit before having it removed. He finished morphing, and managed to pick Efaen up awkwardly, and start moving towards the Mirage with some effort.
-
"Computer, initialize dampeners." The computer recognized the female voice and acted in turn. The larger-than-average Bug Fighter shuddered slightly, and the ship began a slow, spiraling descent to the ground.
"We appear to be approaching a planetoid of unremarkable size or origin," the same voice says, reading aloud from a holoscreen, despite no others being present in the room. "All biological, sapient lifeforms appear to be gathered around a central location of some sort." Deft fingers tuck a strand of blonde hair behind an ear. "I am reading a number of ship signals. Skrit Na, Yeerk, Andalite...some I've never seen before."
<What is it?> A tremulous voice asks from within the pilot's head.
"An outpost of sorts," the pilot responds verbally. "A gathering place for vagabonds and tureleks, no doubt." He snorts derisively. "Computer, initialize automatic landing procedure. Maintain full cloaking."
<Are you sure this is the place?>
"I'm not a fool," a small smirk appears on the young woman's face. "I know how to follow an unencrypted communication. The dapsen Andalite that sent the message wasn't exactly trying to be discreet about it."
The Bug Fighter sets down lightly, landing struts extended. The cloaking field makes the ship virtually invisible, but heat from the ship's engines still ripple the air. Inside the ship, the human-Controller is rumaging through a compartment, outfitting his clearly marked Imperial uniform with a Dracon that has clearly been cared for meticulously. The metal gleams as he slides it into his holster. Checking the computer screens one last time he shuts the ship down, ordering it to respond only to his voice commands.
"Let us see what this wretched place has to offer," the Controller says with a small smile, opening the hatch. He waits as the ramp extends before stepping out into the fresh air, making a beeline for the rickety structure that makes up the bar. Swinging the door open, the Controller wrinkles his host's nose in disdain, surveying the dilapidated interior and its occupants.
<Well, Tamora,> the Yeerk says internally. <It appears that we have truly found the dregs of the galaxy here.>
<She'll be here, though,> Tamora responds anxiously. <Won't she, Zorish?>
<Let us find out.> Zorish steps into the room boldly, steely grey eyes landing on each occupant one by one.
"Good evening," he says, raising his voice so it carries across the bar. "I was wondering if anyone could tell me where I could find Myitt One-Nine-Five. I have some very urgent business to tend to."
-
Ossanlin looks down his nose at Corliss once more before following Claxter toward the Mirage at a limp. He glances at the mechanoid Andalite as well, still uncomfortable at the sight of such disfiguration. Mangled corpses he had seen, and he'd come to accept them...but this being seems like a reanimated corpse...someting else entirely...run by machines and metal.
<Did you happen to see what exactly transpired Claxter?>
-
<Corliss wants to leave the planet, and wanted to take Efaen with her with or without your permission. I suggested that they go ahead and leave, and pick her up later, or we could send her later, but I was ignored. He was aiming his weapon at her the whole time he demanded she come with him, and I was going to put him in his place, but Efaen said if he was going to shoot her then go ahead and let him. I left in frustration, and he shot her while she was heading inside.>
<Corliss cares nothing for Efaen as a person. Only as Terenia's host. I suggested it may be prudent for her to work for a Yeerk more loyal to you like Temrash if she felt she must go that route. She doesn't like him any more than Corliss. What is your personal opinion of Temrash, anyway?>
-
Our sensors detected a vessel landing in the vicinity. We had a directive. Ultimately, the directive was Get Efaen to Safety. Our directive was divided, just as it would be divided between thousands of drones; Unit Theta occupied the Yeerks, Unit Iota carried Efaen. So we held our position. Our physical body did not move a nanometer, and our SION weapon was leveled evenly at all times. Our ocular turrets turned to watch that Unit Iota, Ossanlin Unit, and Efaen Unit got to the intended destination, while our main ocular units kept steady watch over the Yeerks.
Ogreon looked at the man named Salem, "Greetings! I am Ambassador Ogreon of the starship Urtahn. I seem to be saying that a lot recently...I'm used to attache parties where everyone learns who I am at the same time. But no matter. Nice to make your acquaintance."
He smiled.
-
Carris approaches the bar. His hands are shaking uncontrollably. He clenches his fists and focuses on Adam's recent memories to distract himself. Walls splitting open and repairing themselves. What the hell kind of place was this?
He glances over his shoulder in the general direction of his ship, wishing suddenly to go home. Except... except home actually exist anymore, since he'd given it up to come here. Sighing, he enters the building and makes his way back to the bar. He sits down and waves at the bartender. "Might as well pour me another Guiness."
-
Mar's exhausted delirium is tempered with sudden irritation and cynicism at the arrival of this...person. He's assuming "man," but he gets the vague feeling that you can never be too sure with Beryllians. A statement taken out of the vapor of his memories that makes absolutely no sense to him. That's helpful. His accent registers as "annoying," and he's calling Mar an Oligarch.
"Of the Hegemony?" mutters Mar with a frown at Van. "Technically that's correct, but I doubt that is what you mean." And to be honest, even Mar didn't know what he meant. "Whoever you are, I appear to have lost all memory of you." He then narrows his eyes at Van. "...which may be a good thing. I can tell that you're an irritant, and you should not get that close to sweet Elayne. If you become a problem in this Bar, I will become your problem boy."
Mar curtly nods at Salem and puts his own hand on Elayne, almost leaning on her but trying not to look it.
-
Morgan stormed back into the bar. The past couple weeks had been spent cooped up in his own ship while Asda ran medical tests. It was the one thing Morgan had never wanted to be again, a lab rat.
Asda had been studying the records and noticed that Morgan was at risk for further change. There was also the slight chance that Morgan could start losing his mind.
During that time, Gaz had taken her own ship to see Cortex personally to see what information he could potentially dig up. Also, members of the crew had been preparing one of the brig cells in case Morgan should need it.
Andromeda had kept herself cooped up as well. She wasn't adjusting to the idea very well. As for Silver...Morgan didn't know. He hadn't seen her or been able to tell her the news.
Morgan sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. Gaz wasn't far behind, she had only returned from her long errand less than half an hour ago.
"Just gave Asda all the information Cortex was able to dig up," Gaz said as she sat down. "Don't worry about it. You're tough, you'll pull through."
"I don't understand it though," Morgan confessed, "it's been ten years. Why would this be a problem now?"
Gaz shrugged. "You're asking the wrong gal."
-
Illim raises an eyebrow at Corliss. "Sorry I suggested shooting her," he murmurs, turning his head slightly to talk to him while still watching Ossanlin. "I'll defer to you, of course, being green and all, but if my guess that this is the same Andalite that brought us over here in the first place, it's better to risk Terenia's wrath than his."
Elayne gives Salem a brief, terse nod, her attention focused on the newcomers to her table rather than the trader who seemed to think she was more than she was--something she imagined Mar would find amusing.
When a familiar voice calls out from the doorway for information on Myitt, however, Elayne looks up sharply. Tamora? she wonders. No, no. Can't be. She feels like hearing about Tamora's death should have affected her more, even though she only knew the woman a short time. Must be Terenia, then, she thinks and returns her gaze to Mar, putting an arm around his back.
-
<<I can't find myself worrying more about a Yeerk in a jug more than an Andalite right now, especially one that has underlings. I think we should leave. Especially since it would look suspicious to hang around long after being in such a rush to leave that Corliss shot Efaen with intent to drag her into the ship.>>
-
Corliss lowers his Dracon, regarding Ossanlin coldly.
"Fine. She's not being taken back for interrogation," he says, squaring his jaw as his teeth set on edge. "It would appear, War-Prince Ossanlin, that Efaen has changed her mind about joining us. Unfortunately, this doesn't sit very well with Terenia, and it honestly doesn't sit well with me. If this is the kind of promise she makes to our organization, and then tosses aside, how can we trust her within our ranks?"
He sighs. "I shouldn't have shot her, it was foolish. She's just so bloody aggravating, and I need...no, Terenia needs her. And I've sworn to help Terenia."
Corliss only pauses in the midst of his ire when he sees Terenia walk by, wearing an Imperial uniform.
"What...?" he whispers, staring.
-
<Oh stop spewing feces! She agreed to go with you when she had approval from her superior, and not before. As her duty demands.> Claxter said. He refrained from making threats, but he could think of a few to give. <Just leave.>
We need to keep an eye on him at all times. Prince Ossanlin won't likely let you in the ship yet, so you can stay outside and keep an eye on them. If they leave the planetoid, so be it. If they don't, then please keep tabs on them. He said to Gremyyt. Don't let them follow us.
-
Corliss hears but doesn't register Claxter's comment, pointing weakly at Zorish as he walks up to the bar entrance.
"That's...but she's..." He turns back in the direction of the Skimmer, then stares back at the swinging door through which Zorish had vanished. "Am I losing my bloody mind?"
-
Claxter also noticed Terenia...or Tamora. He looked at Efaen as if she might somehow be fake or something. <This place is wrong.> He said, but continued trying to mostly carry Efaen.
-
Zorish's head swivels around, looking for an answer, but no one seems to be paying him any mind. Dapsen human female form. No one takes these bodies seriously. Keeping one hand firmly on his holster, Zorish approaches the bar.
"You, bartender," he snaps. "Have you heard of a Myitt One-Nine-Five? Where can I locate him?" When the bartender offers no response, Tamora's lip curls in frustration and he turns, surveying the crowd. A number of the aliens in the bar are unfamiliar to him, and therefore unlikely to be Yeerk or aware of Yeerks. His gaze settles on one of the groups of mostly human-looking patrons. One of them, a female, is looking back. Zorish smiles.
"You," he snaps at the human woman. He saunters up to Elayne, looking her up and down quickly, taking in her disheveled appearance. "Do you know Myitt One-Nine-Five?"
A thought-speak groan escapes Efaen and she shifts slightly in Claxter's grasp, trying to pull herself into consciousness.
-
Claxter noticed Efaen trying to wake up. <Come on Efaen. Wake up. Don't let some little stun shot keep you down for long.> He got her into a more upright position in case she did wake up.
-
The sudden influx of people pulled Ewa from her thoughts... mostly. Adam was still at the bar, though he looked somewhat cleaner. Everyone else was gravitating toward a table and the atmosphere almost hummed with the jumbled, confused, and disparate expectations. Ewa knew plot potential when she saw it.
She moved in for a closer look, angling around the table to get a good look at the blond woman drawing attention to herself. Ewa's eyes flickered over the other faces as well. Oftentimes the loudest people weren't the ones you most needed to watch.
-
Salem came over towards the group, and introduced, himself. Van flashed a grin, "Van Aldbaran," he said pleasantly. The pirate then made a motion, and winked at Mar, "Buuut, I'm kinda on the busy right now, chaa."
Mar stared at Van, and muttered, "Of the Hegemony?"
Van blinked in surprise, at the statement, and ignored Mar's prattling thereafter. This was a statement that bothered him.
"Nichaa, ars Alvo Regares-de nani sichaa? How could this..." Van assumed a straight face, and frowned. ...The Hegemony? How does he know them?! This can't be right.
He glanced off, distracted, until he noticed someone by the wall that had been repaired earlier. It was Ewa, and Van needed something to do to get his mind off this... disturbance.
"Anh, Ambassador, is it just me, or am I just really unlucky today? He didn't mention, 'the Hegemony' on the casual, right?"
Van knew well in his heart that he was wrong: Mar did say it. Whether Mar knew what it meant, however, never occurred to the pirate at all.
-
Ogreon looked at Van, "I heard it, yes. Forgive me, but what is the significance of it?"
-
Salem tipped his hat to Ogreon when he introduced himself, and nodded at Van. If he found anything unusual about either of them, it didn't show. Both Elayne and Mar seemed less than thrilled by his presence. He'd have to speak to them, later, just to see that disapproving look again. For some reason, coming from either one, he found it funny- though for a different reason with Mar than with Elayne.
In any case, it did seem that this group was busy, caught up in some sort of conversation. As he wasn't really interested in what he'd heard of their conversation, he figured he'd leave them to their own devices.
"I'm a bit of a merchant," he said quietly to Ogreon and Van. "If either of you get a moment, maybe I can show you my wares. I'll let you carry on with whatever you were doing for now," he said with a wave at Elayne and Mar.
He looked around and noticed Morgan and Gaz entering the bar. He smiled. He could always go over and finally introduce himself to them. He hadn't seen Morgan around for a while. Even though he knew that Morgan's minotaur-like appearance wasn't natural, he still wanted to speak with him about it.
And there was the man he'd seen earlier talking to the woman who'd had her head blown off. He'd come in and immediately started drinking again. Not the most social of individuals, Salem thought. Either he just doesn't like people, or there's more to him than meets the eye. Might want to talk to him as well.
And the woman near the wall... Salem hadn't really looked at her, but there was something distinctly off about her, physically. She looked almost entirely human... but not quite. What was it... her eyes? And the way in which she was carefully observing the current customers of the bar... Salem caught her eye and smirked. He'd have to keep an eye on this one.
When Zorish came over and addressed Elayne, Salem leaned against the table and looked towards the speaker. When he saw what appeared to be Terenia's body, he grinned.
"Imperial uniform. Very classy. Good look for you." He smirked and crossed his arms, "Myitt left. So who are you this time?"
-
Zorish gives Salem a sharp look when he is addressed by the unfamiliar human.
"Myitt left?" He repeats, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. "How long ago? Does anyone have a means of contacting him?" He looks around at the faces surrounding them for an answer. It is only then that Salem's question resonates in his head.
"What do you mean, who am I this time?" he asks, glaring at Salem suspiciously. "As opposed to what other time? I have never seen you before in my life.
<Zorish, if Myitt is gone maybe we should leave,> Tamora says nervously. <I don't like this place. It seems...dangerous.>
<Quiet, human,> Zorish says impatiently.
-
Ossanlin refuses to look back...he misses his stalk eyes whenever he's in any other morph. In trying to prove his point to Corliss, he misses the figure of Tamora completely. <Well I suppose that shooting someone out of anger or annoyance is usually the best course of action.>
Ossanlin grunts as he continues behind Claxter. <Temrash is...an unknown, Warrior. He seems trustworthy, but I frankly know almost nothing about him. I would not feel comfortable assigning Efaen to him, knowing so little about him. And now with Corliss' betrayal I do not feel the rebellion would be a suitable place for her either. It is a difficult situation. Really it is a moot point...the Homeworld Command already know of Efaen's recovery. Without Reven's complete cooperation I would not be able to assign her with the rebellion. If Efaen joins the rebels now, it will be an act of military desertion.>
He watches Efaen closely...it would certainly be advantageous if she regained consciousness before they reach the Mirage. <Efaen, are you conscious?>
-
Illim sighs, stuffing his hands into his pockets, catching a glance of a blond woman walking into the Bar. He shakes his head, confused by the whole mess, and frustrated by his own confusion. It is not something he is accustomed to.
Spinning on his heel, he turns to follow Corliss. <<Yeah, sounds like that's the plan,>> he tells Derrell. <<Anything else you need from here before we go?>>
The nervous chatter between Mar, Van, and Ogreon is something that can hold Elayne's attention for so long, especially when an agitated woman who at least appears to be Terenia is demanding to know the whereabouts of her friend. She turns her head from Mar, though she remains close enough to continue supporting him should he need the help, and tells the woman in the uniform, "This place is strange: timelines cross, disparate universes come together. You could be any iteration of... Tamora, I suppose? The Tamora I met is dead, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything to the Tamora of another universe."
-
<<Nothing really, I don't think. I doubt we have time to order a burger, so I'll just hope there are snacks for this flight.>> Derrel said.
After a few moments, claxter began movng Efaen again. He couldn't help but feel good about her not going off to work for Yeerks, though she wouldn't be happy about the situation.
-
Carris glances at the group of people in the bar. He can't really hear anything from his position, only recognizes a few of them as people Adam has talked to.
He picks up his glass, seriously considering just sitting there and getting as drunk as possible. He is in a bar after all. What else did one do in a bar?
<Talk to people?> Adam offer.
Carris grunts and reaches over to medkit. He opens it, fishes around inside for a moment, then pulls out another vial, this one with bright purple liquid. "Painkiller. And you don't drink it straight." He puts it back, then takes a sip of his beer.
-
(In case there's anyone new: Gaz is a normal human woman, mid twenties who's dressed pirate-ish. Morgan is a 7 foot tall minotaur. Dark past naturally. Both are pirates.)
Morgan glanced around the bar as he had his drink.
"We've been in and out of the bar so much lately," he commented. "I hardly see anyone I recognize. This place used to almost feel like a second home. Funny how things can change in a short period of time."
"You're worried about Silver," Gaz commented.
"Of course I am!" Morgan replied. "I haven't had a chance to explain to her what's going on or even to tell her when I had to step out. I'm just worried she'll think..."
"Don't worry about that," Gaz interrupted. "I'm sure you're worried about nothing."
-
Efaen groans again, shifting in Claxter's grip. She is sore all over, but her consciousness is certainly returning. Corliss must not have hit her with a very strong stun.
<I am...conscious...> she mumbles, sounding slightly disoriented. She cracks open a stalk eye, looking around to get some understanding of her position. When it falls on Corliss her voice takes on an indignant tone that overpowers its weakness. <You shot me, Yeerk,> she accuses, kicking her legs feebly as she tries to get some footing. It is then that she realizes she is being carried by...some unknown alien.
<<I certainly hope that is you, Claxter,>> Efaen says to the strange alien holding her. <<And you can release me. I am capable of walking. I think.>>
Zorish raises his eyebrows at Elayne's babbling. His gaze flits between her and Salem, two people who seem to know him, or at least his host, despite never encountering this planetoid before.
<Did you hear what she said!> Tamora cries in alarm. <She said I was dead!>
<Of course I heard,> Zorish snaps. <I am not deaf, though your incessant pestering seems intent on forcing me to lose focus. Isn't this the reason we came here? Now be quiet.>
"You say that Tamora is dead," Zorish says to Elayne, glancing back towards Salem for confirmation. He nods, tightening his lips into a straight line. "Clearly that is a farce, as Tamora is standing right here. However, such accusations happen to be the purpose of my presence here. I received a rather disturbing communication, intercepted by one of my officers. It was meant for Visser Three, but pertained directly to myself. According to the Andalite filth that delivered the message, Tamora was murdered only after I agreed to abandon her and was destroyed myself. An unlikely sequence of events, in any universe."
Zorish leans back on his heels, searching Elayne and Salem's face for a reaction, an indication of familiarity, anything to help him understand the strange message that had sent him halfway across the galaxy. "You can see how I would be perturbed by such a message. Clearly I am alive, as is my host. I wish to speak to those who are responsible for my supposed execution." His confused, pensive look tightens, eyes narrowing slightly. "Now, how can I get in contact with Myitt One-Nine-Five? I believe he has the information I am looking for."
-
Van chuckled uncomfortably in response to Ogreon's question, "The significance? Anh, that is, chaa, a bit of a difficult question to answer, chaa. Mm! But our Federation -rather, Oligarchy- is nothing compared to them, no. You see, I don't know them personally, but let's say other people I know don't like them."
And before Ogreon could press him for more information, the pirate quickly added, "And those 'other people' I am talking of, I don't talk to them anymore. Just about them. Sometimes. No big-deal, haha! They are, ah, Zhenzi Vangul-chay kari to me!"
Van grinned as an odd rush of satisfaction blazed through his being. Though he wouldn't explain the insult to Ogreon, in referring to his family as "Zhenzi Vangul-chay kari", he was basically calling them "moronic hollow-headed people". There were probably plenty of other things he could have called them, but some insults were so scathing, he was loath to repeat them in front of Mar.
To refer to his estranged relatives back home in such a way was justified, in Van's eyes. And in a way, he was being nice: "moron" barely illustrated the depth of how much Van hated his father.
All Van hoped was that Mar wouldn't suddenly be "helpful" and explain to Ogreon what he had just said. Problem was, Mar didn't quite sound like Mar. To Van, he sounded... drunk. Something was seriously wrong with the way the Oligarch spoke, but he needed to hear Mar's voice some more to really get a better analysis.
Shoot. Now what?! I'm just going to stand here, and wait for this guy to royally screw me over by explaining what I said? Ugh, I guess so. Just open your mouth, Mar-zhen!
-
<<Yes, it is me.>> Claxter said, releasing Efaen. He kept a hand on her just to make sure she didn't fall over, but otherwise she was holding herself up. <<Corliss has done nothing but lie ever since our Prince caught him. Saying he was just taking you in for interrogation, and then saying you changed your mind about going completely instead of just wanting to wait. His dishonesty is unsurprising.>>
-
Salem frowned and listened as Elayne and Zorish spoke. There was very clearly something here he wasn't understanding.
"Tamora... that's the host?" He frowned at Zorish, "And you're new here, right? A new version of an old customer." He muttered, "Just like Keshin," remembering the new version of the bounty hunter that had showed up at the bar not long ago. He ****ed his head as he continued to look into Tamora's eyes, trying to follow what must have happened. "That makes you... Terenia?" He stuck out his hand, "Nice to meet you... again. I'm Salem."
That would make sense. He'd last seen Terenia in another host. If she'd 'abandoned' this 'Tamora,' it was possible that the host had been killed, though Salem hadn't heard about it. Not surprising in this place.
He shook his head, "I don't have a way of contacting Myitt, but some of the others on this little rock might. That is, assuming it's actually the Myitt you're looking for." He nodded towards Elayne, "She's right. This place is impossible. Alternate universes and alternate people all seem to intermingle here."
-
Efaen gets her hooves under her, swaying slightly as her center of balance shifts. She closes her main eyes for a moment, waiting for the bout of dizziness to pass. A stalk eye finds Claxter in the meantime.
<<He is a Yeerk,>> she says flatly. <<They are all dishonest. At the very least we now know that this so-called rebellion is not as friendly to Andalites as it pretends to be. Perhaps such actions will allow Prince Ossanlin to see that direct relations with such an organization is dangerous. If nothing else, he would do well to have an Andalite operative in their midsts, ensuring that they are not acting foolishly.>>
She opens her main eyes then, balance returning, and turns her thought-speak outward then, including Prince Ossanlin as well as Corliss and Illim and anyone else who may be standing nearby. <Prince Ossanlin,> she dips her stalks respectfully at the Hork-Bajir who had addressed her with Ossanlin's thought-speak. <It is good to see that you have recovered from your injuries. I hope that the battle did not leave any lasting damage.>
"I am Zorish Three-Five-Eight of the Yenn Kulpat Pool," Zorish says warily, examining Salem's outstretched hand before clasping it. "Tamora is the original owner of this body. I trust if you know of Myitt, you know of Yeerks, correct?" He drops his hand, shifting uncomfortably. This isn't at all the situation he expected. The vast majority of people here seem to be from other universes entirely. The thought puts him on edge, but not so much that he is eager to end the conversation.
"Terenia," he repeats the name. "I had never heard that name prior to this irritating little message, but I should like to speak with her as well. She is the supposed killer of my host body, whoever she is. I would prefer to speak with Myitt first, however. Do you know who might be capable of contacting him?"
-
Claxter began demorphing, not commenting on the audacity of her still wanting to work within the rebellion. Now that this was done, he wondered if he should investigate the reappearance of whoever the Human woman was supposed to be, or remain with the others. Was she tamora? Infested or not? Or perhaps another Terenia? Hopefully not. Having another efaen to rescue would be weird. Also kind of interesting, but mostly weird.
-
Ossanlin nods to Efaen. <I appreciate your concern thought it be unnecessary. Whether there is any lasting damage...> Ossanlin thinks about the energy that Mar had infused him with. <...remains to be seen. It is of little concern at the moment.>
<The actions of Corliss bother me, would you be able to recount your version of the events that took place up to the point at which Corliss discharged his weapon? Claxter already provided his own interpretation.> Ossanlin limps to a stop next to Efaen. Now that she's conscious, there's really no need to return to the Mirage.
-
Efaen lifts her stalks, giving him a little nod. <After Warrior Claxter and I ensured that you were safely aboard The Mirage I informed this Yeerk,> she shoots Corliss a withering look, <that he would be unable to return to the rebellion until I spoke with you more thoroughly regarding my placement. He clearly was not willing to accept those terms and stunned me as I was taking my leave. No doubt he intended on taking me aboard his ship and leaving for the base without your approval.>
She scuffs a hoof against the gravel, self-righteous anger beginning to rise in place of her wooziness. <If I may be so bold, it was hardly the act of a creature who truly stands against the same enemy as you, Prince Ossanlin.>
-
Corliss is shaken out of the shock of seeing Terenia's twin. He slumps in frustration and, admittedly, regret.
"She can't make up her damned mind, Ossanlin," he grates. "And yes, it was stupid and rash of me to shoot her, mate, but she can't keep us on this rock interminably! I didn't even know if you were going to regain consciousness in a day, or a week...though I'm glad you're well again..." He runs a hand through his hair. "Look, someone who looks very much like Terenia just walked by, and unless I'm completely mad, the only one here who can look like Terenia is her."
He points at Efaen in accusation. "So, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to let you two discuss what Efaen cannot decide for herself, and I'm going to find out who the hell that really was. Illim, you can join me if you like, it's your call, mate."
As he passes Efaen he mutters a hasty, "Sorry."
-
<No. If you have to leave right now, then leave right now!> Claxter said. He didn't care if some Terenia/Tamora lookalike just walked past. If he was in such a hurry to shoot Efaen, then he should leave regardless. He moved towads Corliss threateningly. <I want you gone, or I will make you gone. You didn't even need to take Efaen right away. You were just using the rush to leave as an excuse to force her hand. If you just had to leave imediately a minute ago, you still have to leave immediately.>
-
<Your apologies are unnecessary, Yeerk,> Efaen says scathingly. Her tail twitches slightly as he passes, but she does not attack. Instead, she turns her attention back to Prince Ossanlin and addresses him and Claxter privately.
<<The filth is lying. My convictions have never wavered. I merely seek out your approval. I think it is more important now than ever that an Andalite is present amongst this rebel scum. If you truly must place your trust in them, would it not be to your benefit to have at least that much insurance?>> Her stalks watch Corliss as he moves away, narrowed in distaste.
-
Ossanlin looks at Claxter. <Enough Warrior! Do not allow your personal emotions and feelings to affect your judgement. This is not an Electorate-controlled territory, you have no authority. He will leave when he leaves...however if he assaults anyone else under my command, I will be forced to detain him until a rebel envoy can retrieve him.> The thought is as much for Corliss as it is for Claxter.
He takes a deep, rumbling breath and sighs, turning his gaze back to Efaen, including Claxter in the conversation as well. <<Efaen...you are a Warrior in the Electorate's Galactic Military...I assume you understand what that means. I had wanted to place you with the rebels from the start but you were rather of a different opinion then. When it became obvious that you would not allow yourself to be stationed amongst the Rebels, and when Reven denied my stipulations under a situation of Military knowledge, the only logical course of action was to officially report your recovery to Homeworld Command.>>
Ossanlin tries to stand up a bit straighter, but still leans a bit on one hip out of weakness. <<There is no way that I would be able to sanction your placement with the Rebels now. If you choose to leave with Corliss, and I would consider it to be a foolish decision considering what just occured, the Military...and I...would have no choice but to consider it an act of desertion and a complete abandonment of duty.>>
-
<Yes my Prince.> Claxter said after a few moments. He walked back towards Ossanlin.
I suppose you should also leave them be, for now. I would have liked them to leave, or for you to watch them, but Prince Ossanlin could reprimand us if we monitored them. However, unless Efaen insists on leaving with them, I would like to ensure she is never alone with them. He said to Theta/Gremyyt.
-
Yeerks... That tickled something in the back of Ewa's brain. Wasn't that the name for the sentient parasitic slugs? But that had been an old human story. It was ancient.... and even in its time it was completely fictional.
Something inside Ewa relaxed. However strange the rest of the scape might be, Yeerks--human myths--were something she could handle.
Still, this place doesn't look like it's from any of the canonical works...
"What is it you think we should know of the Yeerks?" Ewa asks Zorish, stepping even closer to the table.
-
Efaen is silent for a long moment, long years of Andalite training wrestling with her desire to do what she feels is right. Perhaps it is the influence of years as Terenia's slave, but she finds herself speaking to the War-Prince far more freely than she would have years ago.
<<I certainly do not wish to fall out of favor with anyone, sir,>> she says in a somewhat softer voice. <<And I apologize if I have overstepped my bounds. I initially refused a place amongst ther rebellion because I was certain that Terenia would do all that she could to make me a slave again.>> She lifts her stalks slightly. <<My decision was altered because I truly believe that I will be of little use to you or any other Prince elsewhere. I do not wish to be returned to the Homeworld, forced to live as a civilian, and I believe that I can be of great assistance to you. Please understand that I do not speak out of pertness, but rather because I truly desire the toppling of the Yeerk Empire.>>
She takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly while she lets her plea sink in. <<I understand that you have already contacted the necessary authorities, and I do not wish to be labeled a deserter. But Ossanlin, you may trust these rebel Yeerks, and perhaps one or two of them are even deserving ->> she seems to sneer a little at the concept << - of your trust. But the entirety of the rebellion? How do we know that they do not plot against us as they plot against the Empire? Or that they seek an alliance with you merely to lull our people into a sense of safety? Forgive my bluntness, my Prince, but it seems foolhardy not to at least attempt to arm yourself against such possibilities.>>
<<The rebel leader has agreed to my presence on base free of Yeerk control,>> she continues, refusing to meet her Prince's eyes. <<It is an opportunity that should not be overlooked. If you must lie to the military and tell them that Terenia has captured me once more, then so be it. That is a dishonor I am willing to endure. One I am already being forced to bear. It is better, at least, than being considered a deserter.>>
She sighs heavily, clearly unhappy with the fact that she is speaking so openly to a commanding officer. <<Again, I apologize for overstepping my bounds...sir...>> She ducks her stalks further, awaiting his reprimand.
Zorish glances at Ewa, biting the inside of his cheek in annoyance. This place was grating on his nerves, with its slew of patrons that either did not know anything or knew the wrong things. He begins to address Ewa as 'human', but the word catches, as it is clearly incorrect. He clears his throat and begins again.
"The Yeerk Empire is the most powerful governing and militial force in this arm of the galaxy," he says matter-of-factly. "Or it will be, once we take care of those meddling Andalites. The only species that do not know of us are those who have not yet achieved space flight. A class which you are certainly not a part of. Unless you are a native to this rock."
-
Salem listened carefully as Zorish spoke. Another Yeerk, using the same body... he doubted there was any insight here into the Terenia he'd met, but it would never hurt to learn more about an individual. Zorish was imperial, from the sound of things, and proud of the advancements of the Yeerk race. As he should be.
And the woman who'd asked about the Yeerks... was she fishing for information, or just curious? Salem gave her a sidelong glance. She definitely had his nerves on end now.
In any case, he was starting to see an opportunity, if only a very small one. If he could get Zorish to use Corliss's communicator, that would give him another transmission he could monitor, and possibly use for contacting the Rebellion. He wouldn't be sharing any further information with Temrash, but it would be worth it if he could find a way to speak with someone besides Corliss.
The trick would be getting Corliss to deal with Zorish. He didn't know whether Corliss would refuse to deal with someone in an imperial uniform... or maybe even start shooting. Best to start asking questions.
"Yes, yes, the Yeerk Empire is grand and powerful. Can I buy you a drink and see about introducing you to someone who can contact Myitt?" he asked, gesturing towards the bar, and away from the noisy crowd that'd gathered around this table. "I haven't seen Terenia for a little while now, but hopefully getting you in touch with Myitt will be pretty simple. How did you say you knew her again?"
-
<<You state benefits that I have been aware of since your liberation, and ones that I had wanted to exploit. That opportunity has passed and we all must tolerate the way things are.>> Ossanlin sighs, again trying to straighten his body.
<<I welcome frank opinions and thoughts as long as they are not insubbordinate or meaninglessly insulting. One of the reasons I wanted to place you with the rebels is because I thought that you would be more content there, with an active role in more ways than one, but you denied that opportunity. You may be willing to suffer the dishonor of being labeled a controller Efaen, but that does not mean that I am willing to lie to my superiors about such things. You apparently fail to see the ramifications. Or perhaps you think me too stupid to see them. It is not merely a lie...the lie would also, by its own nature, state that I lost control of the situation and allowed a Yeerk to take another morph-capable host...a second abomination. That would shame my own reputation...and should you so desire, you yourself would then have the tools necessary to blacken my name further if you return to service after this stint with the rebels...as you clearly disapprove of my associations with them.>>
Ossanlin sighs again. <<I apologize, such accusations are uncalled for, but a typical Andalite would see these underlying currents and try to manipulate them to their own advantages. Perhaps you are not typical. The fact remains that I am not willing to lie to my superiors because you feel that you will play a less-active role in the war on a ship. Frankly, Efaen, I do not know you well enough to risk anything for you, and I have no reason to. I trust one person and one alone within the rebellion. Reven has been honest with me, but politicians are skilled at deception and manipulation. He will say and do whatever is necessary to protect his people and himself, and rightfully so, but that means that he cannot be trusted fully. I owe my life to Myitt, and that leaves a bond stronger than most others. She's a far better spy in the organization than anyone could have...besides, do you really thing Reven would allow you to contact me with any information? And what's to say Corliss won't simply place Terenia back in your head the first moment you are alone? I don't put it past him...he tried to do it once before and he's more than happy to shoot you in the back for apparently no real reason.>>
-
<<Quite frankly, I am torn, my Prince.>> Claxter said privately to Ossanlin. <<I want Efaen to be happy, but I also want her to be safe. Even if she goes back and fights for equal gender rights instead of Yeerks on the battlefield, her happiness will be given away so some females down the road might have the chance that she wishes for herself. She's caught between a dracon and a wall, as it were.>>
-
"A drink sounds reasonable," Zorish says, stepping towards the bar. He approaches the bartender, who has not changed expression since Zorish first entered the establishment. "Scotch and water," he orders. When the bartender flashes his 'Cash or Tab' note, Zorish jerks a thumb at Salem to indicate that it is on his tab. Turning around, Zorish leans back against the bar and folds his arms while he waits, watching Salem curiously.
"Well, that is part of the reason I am here," he says in response to Salem's question. "Prior to this communication I had never heard of Myitt or Terenia. I did some poking around before leaving the Blade Ship, of course. Myitt, it seems, is a fugitive with a fairly large gashad on his head. I would say that murder is typical of rebel outlaws, but someone with that large of a bounty is not likely to go about drawing attention to himself by murdering Sub-Vissers. As for Terenia, there were no records of her at all. So you can see why I would be...perplexed."
The bartender returns with his drink and he takes the tumbler, swirling it so that the ice clinks against the glass gently. He takes a small sip.
<Ugh, I don't know how you can stand that stuff,> Tamora complains. Zorish just smirks and takes another sip before resuming his conversation with Salem.
"And of you? Based on your earlier confusion I would guess that you are not one of my people. But you are clearly human. Tell me, how is this possible? Humanity is scarcely aware of lifeforms beyond their planet, and certainly not able to travel this far."
<<I would never seek to undermine you, or to soil your name, War-Prince,>> Efaen says, looking abashed. <<My intentions are merely to provide the most beneficial assistance possible. I understand that Terenia is a threat, so long as she is hostless and intent on retaining some semblance of her former humanity. It is a risk that I am willing to subject myself to, but if you do not think that I will be of use within the rebellion, then I will remain with you.>> Her shoulders slump; she is clearly unhappy with his decision, but she can think of no further arguments, and she has already spoken out more than any warrior would typically dare to against their Prince.
<I will await further orders, my Prince,> she says stiffly in open thought-speak, not meeting his or Claxter's gaze.
-
Elayne shakes her head, Salem's smooth talking sending off red flags as usual. Coupled with her protectiveness over her friend, and Mar's "precious," Elayne's uneasiness compels her to leave Mar's side to follow the Imperial soldier and the trader. "Zorish Three-Five-Eight," she says, approaching from the side. "Apologies for interrupting, but let me assure you that Myitt is difficult to reach. She has left this planetoid, and her timeline is so disparate from yours that there's no reliable way for you to contact her. I wouldn't be surprised if Salem," she says, giving him a bland look, "has his own reasons for plying you with drinks and questions."
After a moment, she offers her right hand. "I'm Elayne Jogan, by the way."
Illim hitches his shoulder uncomfortably. As little as he cares to return to the Bar, and as ready as he is to be on his way to the rebellion where hopefully Corliss and Myitt will successfully plead his case for entry into their ranks--although he's worried about Myitt, especially considering how surly she sounded the last time they had spoken--he cares even less to stand within tail-striking-distance of three disgruntled Andalites.
"Gents, lady," he says to the four-legged aliens with a bob of his head and what he hopes is a disarming smile, and follows Corliss.
-
An amused smile plays over Tamora's lips as Zorish extends his hand to shake Elayne's. "Another human? This place seems to be crawling with them," he comments casually. "Forgive me, Elayne, but I am a persistent Yeerk. I did not travel all this way to merely turn around and go home because someone is difficult to reach. Nor did I become a Sub-Visser by being foolish. I will take what assistance I can gather from this -" he wrinkles his nose, "-establishment, so long as it will not harm me in the process."
He glances around at the patrons, adding quickly, "If it is Myitt's well-being that you are concerned for, be assured that I have no immediate intentions of harming him, or anyone else here. He may have a bounty on his head, but I would venture to guess most of the people here do. Only a fool would try to collect a gashad in a room full of fugitives. I suspect that in being a law-abiding citizen of the Yeerk Empire, I am in the minority here." He smirks, "That would put me at your mercy, would it not?"
-
Derrel didn't say anything as Illim walked in. He knew Derrel was hungry, and pestering wouldn't help. He wanted to leave, personally, and didn't care if some look-a-like had come by. However, any distance away from the Andalites was good distance.
Claxter stared at the door after Illim left. He kind of wanted to confront this new Tamora or Terenia, but he didn't want to enter while they were there. A stalk eye found Theta, and he wondered if now was a good time to talk about him. Maybe not. There was an awkward silence as he waited alongside his comrads.
-
Salem ordered the drink Zorish was having. He was always willing to broaden his horizons. So... Zorish didn't know Myitt. Here was an imperial looking to contact a rebel. That didn't seem like it'd work out well.
He smirked at Elayne as she came over. "What, I'm not allowed to make others feel welcome here? Besides," he said, smiling at Zorish, "even if I did have other reasons to help, it wouldn't change the fact that I am trying to help."
"We both claim to be human," Salem began, casting a look at Elayne, "but Yeerks are more prominent here. You're right, though, being imperial puts you in the minority. And Myitt's friends are very much opposed to anything imperial. Which is kind of why it might be tricky for you to get in touch with him, especially if you're wearing," he waved a hand at Zorish's uniform, "that thing."
The bartender set down his drink, and he took a sip, then ****ed his head as he looked at the glass. Definitely alcohol, but the flavor wasn't bad...
-
Mar snickers suddenly at Van's comment. He knows exactly what the repulsive man said. Odd: he only knew the languages in the Bar that he had carried with him when he came into this body. And he had never been to the place Van appeared to be from.
"You think your family are a bunch of airheaded fools?" mutters Mar, an amused look on his face. "I don't know them, but that might be fitting. And honestly, I have no idea what the Hegemony is either. My memory is not what it should be." Not that he was going to tell this...character that his memory consisted mostly of fragmented, useless information.
"Regardless, do not cause any problems for me or my Elay---" Mar glances around the table, noting that Elayne is no longer sitting next to him. "...Elayne?"
Mar frowns and attempts to stand up, using the table as support. His gauntlet hand is held over his aching chest. Mar glances about the Bar, trying to spot his...was she his lover? Did it matter? Complicated.
-
Ossanlin sighs again. <<You would have been useful within the rebellion, but it's too late for that now. If you are dead-set on joining them then you must either come to peace with being a deserter or convince Reven to accept my terms. If you are still a member of the military merely stationed with the rebels making regular reports...that might be acceptable as long as I still had ultimate authority over you and your actions...as well as the authority to withdraw you from their ranks without prior notice if necessary.>> He finally manages to make himself stand completely erect.
<<Claxter, she will not be happy without Yeerk blood on her blade...that is not a terribly likely scenario, and she certainly won't be happy if she's safe.>> Ossanlin's final thought includes Claxter alone.
-
Elayne's mouth twists unpleasantly in response to Zorish and Salem, and she shrugs lightly. "Fine, but I still think you're wasting your time," she tells the Imperial, turning to walk away. Best not to correct Salem if he still think I'm some sort of human lookalike, she thinks with an amused eyeroll.
As she heads back towards Mar, she notices he appears to be looking around the room that is growing more crowded by the moment. For me? she wonders with a small burst of happiness. She returns to his side with a smile.
-
<<I feel kind of sorry for you, Prince.>> Claxter said jokingly. <<You get two recent Warriors, and they both have problems. Though luckily not as much as that one.>> He turned a stalk eye to Theta to indicate him. <<Not sure what I'm going to do with him, but I'm trying to help him.>>
-
"If you think that I'm going to change what I'm wearing just to impress some outlaws you are certainly mistaken," Zorish says levelly. "I am an honest Yeerk, and I will not lower myself to appearing as anything less than what I am." He smiles thinly. "I am certain that Myitt's friends would be even less pleased if they took me to be a commoner and then discovered they were dealing with a Sub-Visser only after dealing with me."
He watches Elayne depart, amusement playing over Tamora's features. She is protective, he observes, making note to be a careful eye on the woman.
"Now," Zorish says, turning back to Salem. "How would I get in contact with this Myitt person?"
Efaen has the courtesy to keep her position one of submission, but her expression betrays her hope. <<I understand, my Prince. Thank you. I will...I will speak with the rebels and see if such an arrangement can be made. If not, I will plan on returning with you to the Tyrennian.>>
She hesitates, before adding, <<Prince Ossanlin, as you already noted, Terenia's presence provides a calculated risk, one I would gladly accept. However, is there no way that we can ensure she will not reinfest me? I do not know if there are any technologies to ensure safety against infestation, but if there are...>> she hesitates, not wanting to show weakness in front of her commanding officer, but also clearly detesting the very notion of Terenia recapturing her. <<If there is a way to further ensure my safety I would gladly take any steps necessary.>>
-
Ossanlin sighs for what seems like the thousandth time. <<It...may be possible for me to return Terenia to her original human body...in physical reality. Not for some time though...I believe I am too weak to even attempt it now. But if the time does come, having an exact DNA replica of that body will be extremely useful. She would no longer be able to infest anyone after that transformation.>>
Ossanlin addresses Claxter personally again. <<You need not feel sympathy Warrior, a Prince is responsible for his soldiers no matter their condition. As for the mechanized...creatu re, he seems to be a cybernetic lifeform...beyond our own abilities. I do not know what to think of him.>>
-
He stepped out of his ship, looked around, and took a deep breath. He had heard of this place in his previous travels, but never thought he would have need to go there. However circumstances had changed and the Galaxy Edge Space Bar was his only option. He walked in and mentally noted the different beings present and proceeded to the bar. He took a booth as far back as possible where his back was positioned against the wall and he had a view of the entire place. His physique resembled human however his clothing prevented further comparison.
He wore black boots that were made of an unknown material that resembled soft leather, one of which he positioned to point at the door. He wore a long trench coat that was a dark green in color and was made of a heavier material than his boots and was currently unfastened and slightly open. His shirt and pants seemed to be made of the same material as his boots and the same dark green color as his coat. His face was hidden behind a mask made of that same soft leather-like material and was black in color. His eyes were covered by a black visor of some sort though was as mysterious as the person himself. His hair was the color of blood and ran to the middle of his back, bound in a ponytail with what looked like a chain.
He looked to his left at the bartender and said in Gallard “Do you know how to mix a Relnian Blizzard?” The bartender glared at him for a second, then proceeded to enter the freezer. He thought he heard some strange noises, but decided not to question. The bartender came back out with a jug. He then reached under the bar and brought out another jug. He then mixed the strange and potent drink and handed it to him. The glass was filled with a thick liquid as blue as glacial ice and topped with a foam as red as a sun. He picked up his drink, leaned back against the wall and took one last survey of the place. Perhaps this place has more opportunities than it seems he thought to himself as he began to drink.
-
<<He used to be a normal Andalite before being captured by machines known as the Alvie. Now that he's free of Alvie's control, he's having trouble with his newfound individuality.>> Claxter said. <<He has a very strong fear of isolation, and the ability to assimilate others to make them more like himself using nanoprobes.>>
-
Noting that the Efaen unit was stabilizing, We approached Claxter and Ossanlin, <To be precise, the nanoprobes do not make creatres more like Us. They create cybernetic enhancements to make a cyborg.>
-
Van breathed a sigh of relief and sat down. There was definitely something wrong with Mar, and once he spoke, it was apparent. Though he knew Van's language, the possible Oligarch was also decidedly confused, and sounded... drunk. His voice was at a higher pitch, and his accent fell in all the wrong places. To Van, Mar's new "accent" was plenty comparable to his own native style. Just hearing the man talk made Van want to shake him, and yell, "Snap out of it!", but he resisted the urge.
Van was too used to the way the Oligarch he knew spoke. Over there, Mar's voice was low, and measured, with a deep vibrato that emphasized certain tones. To native Beryllians, he sounded stereotypically "evil", a side-effect of which planet he came from. Van had long suspected that Mar was one of his own kind, from some other conquered planet elsewhere in the galaxy.
He simply hadn't kept tabs on who's who or which planet was a Beryllian colony or not, mostly because to Van, that information was irrelevant. In the little pocket of stars the government claimed as their own, Beryllia had no power, and their conquest had failed. Van was never really impressed with his own race, which was ironic, because everything about him screamed "Beryllian". His ship, style of dress, behavior, and even his tendency to speak his native tongue gave away his racial origins. He couldn't quite escape the world he tried so hard to reject, and honestly, only to another Beryllian would he appear bitter about his home world.
That aside, there was something wrong with Mar, and Van positively loathed the idea of figuring it out. It would force him to bring all those sour sentiments back to the surface, and relearn his culture, which not something he was keen on doing.
Mar mentioned the Hegemony briefly, but then said he didn't know what it was. He also sounds positively drunk, and I swear, that Elayne chick reminds me too much of someone I already know! Argh, why can't life be simple? Why is my life never simple?!
... Emal ishvisaa! If I wanted a simple life, I wouldn't have tried so hard to complicate it, nen!
Van shook his head, and grinned. There was no point in bothering Mar anymore: he had his fill of seeing the man wounded, and honestly, all Mar's presence did was make Van feel even more confused.
"Mmm, Marzhen! I gotta run, now. Go have happy fun-time with your chick, I've got... girls to meet."
Van turned, a nervous smile still on his face, and looked for Ewa. Anh, there she is! At the Bar, eh? She appeared to be somewhat engaged with a conversation with others. Van figured it would be best to approach the Bar anyways, and maybe get a drink. A shaken Dalcasian Spice, like he had last time, perhaps?
...Or maybe something stronger?
-
Salem smiled, "Well, your pride is admirable, at least, but it might end up being less than helpful." He sighed and looked around the bar. Zorish certainly was insistent. Since he had no real idea of how to deal with Corliss, was there anything he could do to help Zorish? Probably not. Maybe this imperial would have better luck than he had. If nothing else, he could watch to see how things progressed between them. In fact, since Corliss should recognize Tamora...
"There's a Yeerk here named Corliss. He's the only one I can think who'd know how to contact Myitt. He's not really the cooperative type, from what I've seen." He looked over as a masked newcomer entered the bar and took a seat at one of the booths, then continued, "And he's less than happy with me at the moment, so if it's all the same to you, I might avoid actually introducing you. If you want, though, I can find him and point him out. He was just out front a few minutes ago. Oh," he said with a smirk, as if he'd suddenly thought of something, "he knows a version of... your host, at least. Maybe you as well. You might want to keep that in mind when talking to him."
He pulled his persona scanner from his pocket, pointed it at the masked newcomer, and clicked it, causing it to trill. He looked back at Zorish, and, after only a second's hesitation, clicked it at him as well before sticking it back in his pocket.
-
As the humanoid was about to take a drink he noticed the bartender taking a notepad out of his pocket and began writing on it. Curious, the humanoid waited until the bartender tore off the page and handed it to him. 'Cash or Tab?' it read in his language. He replied quietly, in Gallard "Start a tab and I will pay it before I leave." The bartender turned around and headed back behind the bar.
He was again about to take a drink when he noticed one of the beings pointing something at him. He tensed slightly, but when the being pointed it at another of the beings he realized it was just a scanner. He inhaled the scent of his drink and moved his mask aside to drink. The mix of the sub-zero temperature liquid and the almost scalding hot temperature of the foam soothed him deeply. The Reln Blizzard was a drink that had existed on the planet called Fringe for millennia and to find it off-world was a very rare oddity because the primary ingredient was glacial ice from the Fringes' polar regions. When a 200 proof alcohol was added it reacted to the ice to form the almost scalding hot foam and the perfect Reln Blizzard.
He set his glass down, but decided to keep his mask off. One look at his skin and it was apparent he was not human. His skin was a dark blue that had an almost wet look to it with spots that seemed to change colors at random intervals. He took another drink savoring the flavor and his thoughts drifted to a time when relaxation like this was a joke. He shook his head slightly to clear away the memories, the past should remain dead.
-
This is mess, Ewa though with disgust. It was like the plot designer was a five-year-old who tore an Animorphs play apart and then fixed it by splicing in all that was bad science fiction and scribbling magical creatures over it in crayon. Yeerks, alternate-universe characters, minotaurs sitting in the corner--it'd be a miracle if ANYONE knew what was going on here.
She turned her head to see Van approaching. He hadn't mentioned anything about Yeerks in the place he was from and had mostly ignored the conversation with Zorish. But was that because he was unsurprised, or just too distracted to bother asking questions? "Van, are there Yeerks where you're from?"
Her attention was pulled back to the bar when Salem took something out of his pocket and clicked it at Zorish and a new person who had just entered the bar. "What was that for?"
-
"...Yeerks?" Van blinked, and let the word roll off his tongue again, "Yeerks."
Ah, right. I think the Ambassador mentioned them earlier.
He sighed, and sat down beside her, "Well, believe it or nooot... No. I haven't heard of the Yeerks. What are the Yeerks?"
Van guessed that they were an unpopular race, considering how Ogreon spoke of them, and the word 'imperial' allowed him to correctly bet that they were conquerors. No big surprise, since most unpopular races were indeed imperialists. Even if the conquest failed, any race that tried to take over another tended to lose favor with the host culture. It was precisely how his own people ended up becoming galactic... butt-monkeys.
Adam had mentioned Yeerks as well, but he seemed much less aggressive about their existence. How odd, Van thought.
"I know that the first attempt to treat my leg was with Yeerk medicine," Van added, "but, it didn't go over so well. You remember that."
-
Zorish eyes the persona scanner warily until it disappears beneath the folds of Salem's clothes. He does not comment on it, though, as it seems to have neither him or his host any harm.
"I would appreciate it if you could point this Corliss fellow out to me," Zorish says. "When you say he knows a version of my host...this would be the version that supposedly died, correct?" He shakes his head, "You'll have to forgive me, human, but I find it incredibly difficult to believe that there are multiple versions of myself, or my host, wandering around various universes, just to eventually land on the same rock. It sounds like some sort of twisted story invented to frighten grubs."
Efaen's initial instinct is to refuse anything that might help Terenia; it was incredibly gratifying to see the child reduced to a limbless, senseless slug. She is about to say as much, but hesitates. If Terenia regains her natural form she will be harmless. Just another human footsoldier in this war.
<<And it would render her incapable of morphing as well?>> Efaen asks Ossanlin. <<An ability that would not be granted again?>>
-
Ossanlin nods a bit. <<I believe that the morphing technology would remain inert...there is no way that I know of to overcome that. In essence, I believe that she would be a nothlit in her original body.>>
-
|
Ogreon had decided to stay silent. He tried to understand everyone there by listening to their conversations. It was part if his job as an Ambassador. But now, he could not.
"The Yeerks are a parasitic race of slugs. They squirm into your ears and flatten out over your brain, thereby taking control of you. Only those with exceptionally strong will can break into temporary control periods."
All this time Ogreon was shaking slightly from fear, although it was barely visible. He continued, "Almost 12 years ago((In his universe)) they came for Earth after infiltrating the Hork-Bajir and Taxxon worlds. The war wasn't very long, but it did require a lot of sacrifice, including the several hundred people they had captured before the Animorphs brought the news to the one who would eventually become the Overseer of the Alliance. We won within a few months, but sTill...some were killed in the final battle...only the Clangst were there to assist in the destruction of the Blade-Ship. The Clangst were not really affected, bt I was 32 when the war came. Almost 12 years later, I still remember..."
Ogreon stopped talking and closed his eyes. Some of the scenes from the war played out in his mind as he had spoken, so now he tried to push them all away.
-
Salem smirked at Ewa and patted the pocket he'd put his persona scanner back into, "just taking some images for later. Y'know, for posterity. I... don't think I caught your name. I'm Salem," he said, sticking his hand out for her to shake.
He laughed as he listened to Zorish's skepticism. He was beginning to forget that this place was far from normal, even by his standards.
He shook his head, "Yeah, it's not exactly something you hear every day. This place is pretty unique in that way. It does seem that everyone here has some sort of connection to the Yeerk-Andalite war," he said, with a pointed look at Ogreon, then Ewa and Van, "but some of us are originally from places with no Yeerks." He smiled, "You don't have to believe it, but if you keep it in mind, it might help you out here."
"As for the... other you having died, I hadn't heard anything about that until you asked, actually. It's not surprising, in this place. Mortality rates tend to be... pretty high in this bar. If you're going to insist on being open about your imperial allegiance, at least make it a point to be careful." He sighed and pulled out his communicator, "Let me see if I can find Corliss for you."
"Hey, Al," he said into the communicator, "did you see which way Corliss went?"
Outside the bar, Al had begun to move back towards Salem's ship, slowly, enjoying the walk. He spoke, though there was no apparent communicator, "You're not thinking about talking to him again already, are you?"
"Of course not," Salem said, smirking. "I've got a friend here who's looking to use his communicator."
"Oh!" Al replied excitedly, immediately catching the implication. "Okay, cool. Um..." he looked around, "looks like he's actually headed for the bar. You should see him any second."
"Thanks," Salem said, and put his communicator away, and looked at Zorish with a shrug and a smile, to make sure he'd overheard.
-
Efaen nods stiffly, considering the implications behind what Ossanlin is proposing. <<I would...agree to assist with this procedure, so long as she would never regain the ability to morph. Terenia clearly has abused the technology in the past. Besides that, she is not Andalite and has no right to it.>>
<<So long as there is no risk of harm to myself,>> she adds quickly.
"I will keep that in mind," Zorish says, "I tend not to thrust myself into precarious situations without properly protecting myself. Or my host, for that matter. Voluntaries are difficult to come by, and I am not fond of breaking in new bodies, as it were."
Zorish cuts off when Salem makes the call to Al, raising Tamora's eyebrows when he hears that Corliss is on his way into the bar. "That will work out well, then," he says softly, eager to get down to business. He did not come here to mingle. "If you do not mind me asking, human, why is this Corliss displeased with you?" He takes a casual sip of Scotch, keeping Tamora's face carefully blank as he waits for Salem's response.
-
<<No more than disomfort I should think. The procedure, I presume, would be most easily accomplished with you physically touching Terenia's body whilst in her human morph. I would think that tactile contact would be enough.>>
Ossanlin glances at the mechanized Andalite and then back at Claxter. He starts to speak regarding this Gremytt but then examines the clearing again. <Warriors, where is the aristh Serid? Was he injured during the fight?>
-
<I'm afraid I haven't been keeping track of Serid, sir. Though I have heard of your intentions of letting the Human join our ranks. We will look for him.>
You remember Serid, don't you? He asked Theta. The one you spoke to outside the Mirage earlier.
There was a chance he had gone into the bar, and Claxter didn't feel like going outside. <I will look outside. Gremyyt, you look inside.> He used normal thoughtspeech to include the others in his idea.
-
"I'm Ewa," she replied to Salem as she accepted his hand. It suddenly occurred to her that not many here had offered that human gesture. Well, perhaps if most people here are Yeerks they don't bother with human niceties.... not that everyone here even looks human.
What Ogreon said lined up with what she could remember of Yeerks in general. It did not seem this would be a very good place for a human if the population here was mostly Yeerk. Yet she hadn't been attacked.... but the Sub-Visser had just said that voluntary hosts were scarce. Maybe it all came down to this place being outside the power of the Yeerk empire--anyone who came here would have to have a host already. Which begged the question: why stray from their homes?
"Do you know, are most people here trying to hide from the Yeerk empire?"
-
Corliss steps into the bar, peering through the dim interior and waiting impatiently for Mike's eyes to adjust after spending so much time outside.
He spots Terenia's Imperial look-alike chatting and drinking with Salem, and his mouth curls into an irritated sneer. He keeps his Dracon drawn and at his side.
<<Be careful, mate,>> Mike warns. <<Maybe, somehow, Tamora ain't dead after all. This place has produced weirder things than a double from the dead.>>
<<I can't imagine who else this would be, seeing as Efaen is standing outside,>> Corliss murmurs as he approaches them.
"Well," he says, looking Zorish up and down. "I must say it's rather a surprise, seeing you here."
-
Zorish looks up in surprise as his conversation with Salem is interrupted abruptly by a complete stranger. Tamora's eyebrows shoot skyward at his tone and body language.
<<Who is he?>> Tamora screeches internally, put off by Corliss' demeanor.
<<I do not know,>> Zorish muses. <<But apparently he knows who I am. Or at least who you are.>> Zorish forces his surprised expression to smooth out into a more congenial one. He reaches behind him, setting his tumbler of Scotch down on the bar and wiping his hands off on the front of his uniform.
"Is it?" he asks mildly, giving Corliss what he hopes is a winning smile. "I am afraid I am somewhat less surprised to see you, seeing as I haven't the faintest idea who you are."
Efaen takes a deep breath through her nose slits, exhaling slowly as she mulls over the implications. <<I will assist you,>> she says at last, sounding slightly smug. <<I believe that this...process...ma y be beneficial to all of us. It would certainly allow me to feel safer within the confines of the rebellion, should I return with them.>>
She glances back towards the bar with her stalk eyes. <<I believe I saw the aristh Serid enter the bar some time ago. I do not know if he is still within it or not.>>
-
Illim follows Corliss in but doesn't go so far as to wander up to the Imperial with him. Rather, he splits off right after entering the doorway. "Maybe just a little snack, huh?" he murmurs to Derrel, his host's hunger starting to agitate him.
He makes his way to the far end of the bar where the bartender meets him, notepad out. "How about a burger?" Illim says, squinting at the shelves behind the silent man. He sets down $5. "Whatever size that'll get for me."
Wordlessly, the bartender turns away, and Illim returns his attention to Corliss, his hand resting casually on the Dracon in his holster.
Serid emerges from the back hallway, his dark, curly hair disheveled from his nap. Spotting Illim instantly, his eyes narrow, but he does not approach his former Yeerk.
-
Claxter had hoped he wasn't inside the bar, but since Efaen said she saw him enter it wouldn't do to start anywhere else. He entered the bar cautiously, taking in everything. Serid was indeed inside, and Corliss had engaged the Tamora lookalike. He walked over to Serid.
<Hello Serid. Prince Ossanlin is out of the Mirage, and has asked for you. He uis currently in Hork-Bajir form not far outside.>
-
"Ah," Salem said as Corliss approached Zorish. He indicated Corliss's drawn Dracon, "Corliss, I think you need to take a few deep breaths. I'll let you two talk, then."
He turned away from the pair, and to Ewa. He wasn't actually going to go far- he wanted to see how this was going to play out- but Corliss might be more willing to talk to Zorish if Salem wasn't in the vicinity. Based on their history, though, it might not matter.
"This bar attracts all kinds," Salem said to Ewa. "From what I've seen, there isn't a whole lot of pattern behind who ends up here. There's a generally anti-imperial sentiment among most of the bar's customers, but," he said, waving a hand at Zorish's imperial uniform, "occasionally an imperial will show up here too." He looked over as Illim entered the bar. The Yeerk still seemed attached to Corliss at the hip. If it looked like Corliss would be busy for a few minutes, Salem might try to speak to Illim alone again. It wouldn't do to continue trying to speak with him if Corliss was going to keep interfering.
"So," he continued, crossing his arms and smiling, "what about you? Is it safe for me to assume 'Ewa' is a Yeerk name?" The more information he could get from this one, the more he'd know how closely to watch her.
-
Mar glances toward Elayne and smiles. She seems alright, for the most part. He may be able to delay his return to her. The Beryllian, whoever he was, wandered off somewhere. Mar wasn't really clear on why the man hated him, but it didn't really matter. Mar didn't like him either. Mar paused and then glanced at Salem. Although Mar did not trust him, he wanted to continue the exchange. He had to get at least some business done in the Bar.
Mar wanders toward the group, noting that Corliss is nearby. With....Terenia dressed as an Imperial? Hmm...something wasn't quite right. Mar wasn't sure of much of anything in this place, but he was pretty clear on the fact that Terenia's twin was dead. He'd overheard as much.
Mar wanders behind Zorish and states, "So you can come back from the grave, can you? Intriguing. You caused a lot of trouble last time. Don't do it again. The series of events that transpired exhausted me and a friend. "
-
Serid takes his eyes from Illim at being addressed by Claxter. "Thank you," he nods to the Andalite and walks past him through the Bar door to the outside. He turns his head, searching for the Hork-Bajir body.
Illim feels a pair of eyes momentarily on him, but when he looks around the crowded room, no one is watching. With a shrug, settles onto a barstool, in front of which the bartender sets a rather pitifully small burger. In no mood to barter, he nods his thanks and begins eating.
Elayne sinks into a chair near where Mar had been sitting, waiting for him to return. It seems to her that that is the way of things between them lately: lives out of sync.
-
<<He calls this a five dollar burger? Please. Oh well, at least it tastes decent.>> The burger put Derrel in a better mood, letting him forget about all the tension around them.
Claxter was hesitant to leave the building. Now that he was inside, he figured he might as well get a good look at the Imperial, and keep an eye on Corliss. With his dracon still out, maybe he'd do something stupid and get himself shot. Was this what it felt like to hate someone? He'd never really hated anyone before.
-
Stepping out from the forest, Jade Tear noticed this was not her land anymore. "What in the gods names?" she asked looking around. Nothing looked familiar. No Ironwood trees from the virgin forest, and odd looking hulks of what seemed to be metals and steels were everywhere in the clearing. Then there was a simple little cabin. Or was it an enclave? She noticed many creatures wandering around and stated near the trees.
She must have gone through a natural gate. Of all the luck.... Of all the Elves why would the gods send her? She was merely a scouter, nothing more, even if she was of domana Caste. She now had no sekasha to guard her and she was in unfamiliar territories...Not good. She pulled her cloak tight around her and her hood up over her long ankle length Dark Chocolate hair and her Pointed ears. Only her Vivdly colored Cobalt blue eyes giving away she wasn't human and walked up to the single building of the area.
Stepping inside, her silk skirts slightly swishing and her slippers barely even clicking against the hard wood floor she looked around and seen it was a pub or a bar as the humans would call it. But she also noticed that the occupents of this bar were not all human theirselves. Walking up to the bar she took a seat and kept her eyes down as she listened and felt for any magick source nearby. She looked about nineteen in human years but if anyone looked deep enough into her eyes they would see the many many years she has lived.
-
The humanoid had just finished his drink when a new being entered the BAR. This new being wore a cloak, silk skirts and a hood which shielded most of this beings face, however the eyes were visible. The eyes which were a vivid Cobalt blue were what caught his attention and his focus. He felt that perhaps she was not used to settings like this and perhaps was even lost.
He signaled the bartender over and spoke to him quietly, in Gallard 'I will take another Relnian Blizzard, and also, put that new patron's expenses on my tab.' The bartender turned to glance at the newcomer briefly, turned back and barely nodded. The bartender then walked behind the bar and mixed his drink, combining the thick, blue, subzero glacial ice with the clear 200 proof alcohol. When they combined the alcohol reacted to form a foam as red as a sun that steamed from the heat coming out of it.
The bartender brought the strange drink to the humanoid then returned behind the bar. The humanoid smelled his drink, then took a sip causing his spots to first turn as blue as the liquid, then as red as the foam. Perhaps opportunity has finally arrived he thought to himself as he looked over at the newcomer.
-
She waited for the bartender to return and then she bit her lower lip geently. She wondered if he spoke Elvish or at least English. She tried Elvish and then repeated it in English. "Ouzo please." she said and when he returned with the small glass she reached into her cloak to pay but he stopped her with a shake of his head. "I must pay..." he shook his head again and pointed to someone. She knew exactly who he meant when they're eyes met. He had paid for it? Why? He did not know her that she knew of.
When she had turned to look at him, some light illuminated part of her face as it had slipped into her hood. She had almond shaped eyes that were trimmed in thick lashes that brushed against her high cheekbones when she blinked. Soft smooth skin that was the color of cream and soft pouty lips the color of roses. She watched him a moment before giving a low bow with her head in thanks.
-
The newcomer had ordered a small drink and when she attemted to pay the bartender stopped her. It seemed she insisted, but the bartender simply shook his head again and pointed at him. When she turned to look at him, he was momentarily struck with awe.
A small amount of light had shone into her hood and exposed the beauty this creature possessed to him. Her eyes were the shape of ymsuht seeds with thick lashes. Her skin was soft and smooth and had a lnays color. Her lips were the color of nuca flowers and looked as soft as the petals.
She gave a low bow with her head to indicate gratitude and for the longest moment he considered joining her. However the past reminded him of the dangers that action could cause. He also considered asking or motioning for her to join him, however the fact that he paid for her drink would tarnish the invitation and make it seem that she was EXPECTED to join him. He decided to simply raise his glass to her in return and turned in his seat to face the empty seat. The next move would be hers. If she wished to join him, she would.
-
Ogreon saw yet two more people enter. They were being awfully silent, so he decided to introduce himself(You see, he knows not much of romance OR privacy...). One of them had a cloak, and another had a strange mechanical thing on his eyes.
"Greetings, I am Ambassador Ogreon of the Alliance starship Urtahn! Have you been here before?"
-
Corliss gives Salem a sour look, before turning his attention back to Zorish.
"My name is Corliss Three-Eight-Two," he replies levelly, keeping the Dracon drawn but lowering it. "And judging from that uniform you've got on, your name is Zorish, and you're a Sub-Visser of the Yeerk Empire. Which is impossible, because you're dead."
-
The blue-skinned alien humanoid turned to regard the creature who had so RUDELY shattered his thoughts with his loud voice. The creature, who had said his name was Ogreon, resembled a cruubivv which was a fine delicacy on his planet. However this creature was an intelligent being and therefore would be an atrocity to hunt, however his rudeness would not be tolerated.
He hesitated before replying "My name is Reln, and I have not been to this place before. I politely request that you no longer speak to me, Ogreon. Your rudeness in your introduction has offended me." He spoke perfect Gallard, however anyone who decided to listen closely, would hear a faint watery sound to his voice as if he had a small water bubble in his vocal cord.
Reln glanced over at the beautiful being to see what her reaction to this new creature would be.
-
"Well, you certainly get straight to the point, Corliss," Zorish says blandly, dropping the smile. "Yes, I am Zorish Three-Five-Eight, Sub-Visser Fifty-Nine of the Yeerk Empire. What I am most certainly not is dead, despite the fact that numerous people seem to think as much."
He looks Corliss up and down, unimpressed. "I am told that you can contact Myitt One-Nine-Five." He folds his arms over his chest, frowning slightly and glancing at Mar, who also seems to have taken an interest in him. "I need to speak with him regarding my supposed status as deceased."
-
Ewa smiled at Salem's joke. "Quite. It'd be terrible form to be so uninformed of any species but my own. It would also make all my questions that much ruder."
So this place did not actively work against the Yeerk empire--was more of a hideout or gathering for the disaffected, lazy, or moderate dissidents. Ewa was sure the empire would not simply let this place be if it was home to more wanted/dangerous deserters. Plus there would have been a much colder welcome for the Sub-Visser. I suppose that's well enough, but it does leave this place with some trouble so far as an overarching plot goes.
"And what are you supposed to be?" she asked Salem in return. His mannerisms certainly seemed human, but his appearance was off. Either he was from a human-playing family she had not seen before--unlikely--or he was meant to be something else entirely.
-
Ossanlin nods to Efaen. <<Yes, I should think it would benefit all of us. I would hope to use the information garnered to possible assist Serid if he should so desire.>> Ossanlin takes a bit of a breath, expanding his formidable hork-bajir chest, before continuing. <<You have witnessed my...abilities.>> The statement was in no way a question. <<It would be difficult to explain the nature of my existance, suffice it to say that I was born a normal Andalite and certain...events... took place to enhance my understanding of the Multiverse. In any case, entering and maintaining my 'ascended' status takes vital energy. This energy needs to have time to rebuild, and so it will be some time before I can enter that plane of existance again. It will be necessary for me to have full usage of my abilities to perform the procedure, therefor it will be some time before I can even make an attempt.>>
Ossanlin glances around and notices Serid emerge from the bar. <Ah...he is in good condition, or so it would seem.>
-
Corliss hesitates, his eyes narrowing at the Sub-Visser. "Myitt is my brother," he replies warily. "I can contact her, but I can guarantee you you won't have much luck discussing the particulars of how you're supposed to know her, or anything else for that matter." He ****s his head slightly. "Tell me, Sub-Visser Fifty-Nine, how did you come to hear my brother's name?"
-
Ogreon was silent for a moment. His eyes were slightly dilated. The lips on his small mouth were slightly pursed in surprise.
Ogreon spoke up hesitantly, "Uh...my apologies. You were being silent, so I felt I should introduce myself.", He looked at the woman in the cloak.
-
Efaen nods. <<I understand,>> she says, although she is not entirely sure that she does. His fatigue she can certainly grasp, but these strange abilities of his are foreign to her, and theoretically impossible. They set her on edge - a fact she tries to hide. <<Alert me when you are prepared to perform the procedure and I will be ready. In the meantime, may I have your leave so that I may attempt to negotiate contact with the rebel leader regarding my placement?>>
"Your brother," Zorish says, folding his arms across Tamora's chest, "was somewhat mentioned in a rather odd communication that I intercepted. The message referred to my apparent death, as well as that of this body, by two different individuals. Salem -" Zorish nods his head in the human's direction, although he appears to have shifted out of the conversation upon Corliss' arrival, "-indicated that this bar is a strange nexus where timelines and universes are capable of diverging, which would at least explain why everyone thinks that I am dead when I am not."
Zorish pauses, reaching behind him to pick up his glass and take a sip of the Scotch, forcing back Tamora's desire to shudder in disgust. Calmly setting the glass back down he continues. "I took the liberty of looking your brother up in the Imperial records. It would seem that he has quite a gashad on his head. If you two are close enough to remain in contact I would wager there's a hefty price to be had for you as well."
Cold gray eyes scrutinize Corliss' human face. "I would like to assure you, Corliss Three-Eight-Two, that I mean you no harm, and I have no intentions of collecting on your bounties. I am here for information, nothing more. I merely wish to speak to speak to Myitt, preferably face to face. I am curious as to how she managed to overpower this other version of me, and how she managed to separate my host and myself." He hesitates, eyes tracking for a moment as he listens to something Tamora is saying. "I should also like to speak to a person by the name of Terenia, if you are aware of their whereabouts."
-
Ossanlin nods in the rather expansive Hork-Bajir manner and looks again at Efaen. <<If you feel that you can trust Corliss any more than an urtak. Do you require any supplies? I have some spare things aboard the Mirage...a couple of communicator/transponders, an extra ARC...and a spare standard Shredder. I also have some rations though those are hardly necessary in this setting.>>
-
Serid fixes his gaze on the Hork-Bajir watching him; he surmises he must be Ossanlin, considering his company. He approaches slowly, wondering if he takes enough time that Efaen will be gone by the time he reaches the morphed Andalite. Gravel crunches unevenly beneath his shoes, but he walks steadily ahead, his dark eyebrows drawn.
-
Salem laughed. Ewa was sarcastic- it was kind of a nice change of pace after the Andalites and the jaded Rebels he'd been dealing with lately. When she asked about what he was "supposed to be," he hesitated for a moment before realizing she was probably talking about his clothing.
"Cowboy," he said. "Apparently they were big on Earth back in the day. I think it was about the same time period these guys are from, actually," he said, waving a hand to indicate Corliss and Zorish, ". He tipped his hat, "Howdy, pardner. Or somethin'. I should probably stop that, or Al'll yell at me again," he said with a sheepish smile.
"So, where're you from?" Salem asked. "You're at least heard of Yeerks, I take it. What brings you here?"
-
It was good to hear someone laugh and break up a bit of the general tension in the place.
"Really, I haven't the slightest idea." Ewa continued smiling but her eyebrows drew down slightly, as if puzzled. Did he just break from character or.... does his character have some reason to dress up as an ancient Earth cowboy? Certainly those sorts of stories came from the same period as Animorphs--she'd participated in those as well--but she'd never seen them cross before. She gave Salem a searching look, but he just waited expectantly. Maybe this isn't the sort of place I should be taking so seriously.
Ewa grinned wider for a moment then reigned her expression into more amused and watchful. She swept her coat back from her hip so the "phaser" was visible, propped one elbow on the bar and one foot on the rung of a stool next to Salem. "Now, just sayin' a young woman knows Yeerks in her own town," she drawled, "don't mean they gonna cause the same sort a trouble in a different one. Most important thing about traveling in these parts, so I reckon, is making sure you know what's gone on. Ask the smart questions."
She lets one eyebrow twitch upward--half question, half challenge.
-
Jade Tear had a slight problem with her. Her curiosity. It just may one day get her killed. But until then it will just get the better of her. She took a soft breath and turned to look at the man again. This time someone approached him - rather rudely - and he had dismissed him. When the newcomer looked her way, she wasn't sure what to do. Finally she upped the courage and picked up her glass, walking in a soft whisper towards them. First to the newcomer - since she had heard the exchange - she turned and said in her silvery voice first in Elvish then again in English, "Some are silent for personal reasons. They do not wish to be in the way, or they are merely in thought. In any case, if one has chosen silence, and you wish to introduce yourself one could try this approach."
She turned to the one who bought her drink, turning those cobalt blue eyes on him with a full view of her face through the hood. "I beg your pardon, permit me if you will. I am Neakin-angua-ter-eluim. Or a much easier name Jade Tear On Stone. May I ask, as to your name, kind sir?" She asked fluidly using the Elvish pronunciation of her name and then the English translation giving a slight bow to him.
-
The humanoid watched as the beautiful being approach him and Ogreon, who was still standing by his booth. When she arrived she first turned to Ogreon and spoke in a language he did not understand, but sounded very beautiful. She then spoke in a language that sounded very familiar, but could not immediately recognize. However the translator in his visor did recognize the language and identified it as English.
A million memories from the past came flooding back so quickly he did not initially hear what this being had said to him. However he quickly composed himself and read what the translator had recorded of her speech. It had been years since he had spoke this language, but it all came back to him. He placed his arms across his chest, forming a circle with his fingers and inclined his head slightly. "Greetings Jade Tear On Stone" he spoke slowly in English, the watery sound of his voice more noticeable, and his spots turning a dull pink in color. "My name is Lucan Bristow of the Warrior Reln." He hesitated slightly before continuing "Would you honor me by joining me?"
-
She offered a smile to him. If there was anything her people understood besides Magick it was honor. She gave a nod of her head and took a seat in front of him. "Forgive me, my curiosity is a deviled beast. I must know why someone who knows nothing of me would offer to pay for my drink. Though I am thankful." she said keeping her eyes with him. She had never seen so many creatures and species, but this one had spots that seemed to change color and it intrigued her.
-
His spots turned black as he smiled at her. "There is no need to ask forgiveness, curiosity is not a sin." He paused to take a drink, his spots again changing to blue and then red, before changing to a dull pink as he looked at this beautiful female. "As a Warrior Reln I am trained to silently observe. When you entered your dress and demeanor did not fit the profile of this place. You seemed lost and I felt it was my duty to assist you."
"I hope you will not think me rude, but I would like to inquire as to what language you were speaking earlier. I also wonder as to your species as you speak English, even though you do not appear...Human." The rage in his voice when he spoke the word 'human' could not be missed, nor the way his spots flashed a bright green. He composed himself and said "My apologies, Jade Tear On Stone." although his spots remained a bright green.
-
"Jade Tear, please, or Jade if you prefer a shorter set. I learned English from my parents and people as we have intereacted with humans for many centuries. What I was speaking was my Native Tongue of Elvish." she pulled back her hood letting the silk fall to her shoulders exposing more of the dark ringlets around her. She reached up gracefully with her hand and tucked some hair behind her ear to expose the pointed design she was born with.
"I am what humans call an Elf. Why is it you speak of the humans with such disdain?" She had looked around when he mentioned she did not fit in. Indeed that was true enough. She was raised a noble, and looking around this was more an area for Sekasha.
-
Salem's eyebrows shot up. Ewa's sudden change in demeanor had certainly caught him off guard. He eyed her exposed weapon warily. What was she getting at?
"Um... yeah. I guess. What are you..." he paused. She sounded a little like Al, when Al had been trying to show him how to properly talk like a cowboy. Salem hadn't really picked up on it. Was that it?
"You're just... jumping right on board with that, aren't you?" he said with a grin. "I think you make a better cowboy than I do. Although..." he noticed Jade crossing the room, and quickly clicked his persona scanner at her before stuffing it back in his pocket, "you might be right. No sense in rushing into a deal that might wind up bad all around. Gotta talk to him," he said, nodding towards Illim.
He pulled his communicator from his pocket and clicked something on the side. His "briefcase" of trading goodies, which had been flung under one of the tables when Van's ship had crashed, emitted a shrill beep.
"There you are," he exclaimed, walking over and stooping down to grab it. He then spun, walked up to the counter, set the case down, and sat next to Illim.
Salem jerked his thumb at Illim, "Put whatever he's having on my tab." The bartender merely looked in his direction for a moment. "So," Salem said to Illim, "is Corliss always... like that, or does he just act that way towards me?" He winked and grinned to show he was joking.
Al looked around, shrugged, and walked through the door of the bar, straightening his tie as he did so. He looked around. Salem was accosting the one Yeerk who seemed to accompany Corliss... typical. Al rolled his eyes. The guy could not stop working. There were a number of small conversations taking place... quite a few people he didn't know. He smiled and leaned against the doorframe. This place was definitely entertaining.
Aboard the Skimmer
The Malleon microbes had completed their growth cycle. They would now consume even less energy from the ship's power core- though they had a mission to accomplish. They were to see if they could find any trace of the communication encryption codes used by the Rebellion. Salem had also told them to copy down "anything else that looks interesting." Even though deciding what the human would find interesting was hit-and-miss for them, they were certainly willing to try.
They spread out, flowing from the ship's power core and into the rest of the systems. They began carefully, quietly sifting through the information they could find- the hull, the layout, the systems, and yes, what was stored within the computer. As they determined where the data was stored, more microbes moved to those areas, to improve the speed of their search. If they did their job right, they should go undetected, if they hadn't been seen yet. They had a job to do, and they were intent on doing it right.
-
"Jade then, and you may refer to me as Lucan. Your Elvish language is very beautiful and reminds me of the Koltan bird songs on my planet." When she removed her hood, he was again struck with awe at this beautiful woman, and his spots turned a dull pink again.
When she asked about his anger towards humans his memories came rushing back once again, but this time he pushed them away. He knew that he needed to be honest for it would be a disgrace not to be. "I was once hired by a group of humans to perform a ...service... I was promised payment, but instead they kept me a prisoner and tortured me beyond belief. Would you also have rage in your heart towards such beings?"
He took a drink, his spots changing to blue, then red. He looked at Jade as his spots returned to the dull pink. "Would you be willing to tell me more about your species? I have never heard of an Elf before. In return I am willing to answer any questions you have about my species."
-
she took a drink of the sweet smelling clear liquid in her glass. It tasted as sweet as it was scented and while cool to the tongue it burned going down. "Seems fair enough. What is it you wish to know?" she asked trying to hide the blush that had appeared at his compliment to her language.
-
He noticed the coloring of her skin and recognized it as a blush. She was obviously flattered at his compliment which pleased him. He thought of how to word his question with out sounding rude then decided that blunt honesty would be the best way. "Well I am wondering if there is a special reason why you resemble humans?" Although he tried hard to hide it, there was still a rage in his voice when he spoke the word 'human'.
"I would also like to know if you are a warrior species? Forgive me, but you seem like you are more of a royalty class then warrior." He inclined his head as he spoke his last statement to indicate that he meant no offense.
-
She nibbled on her lower lip slightly out of habit as she thought about it. "Actually, I'm not quite sure....It wasn'y until one of the humans many years ago had found a way into our world did we know about humans, other than of course trading with them through natural gates." she said and clicked her tongue against her teeth, the Elves way to shrug. Less demeaning. "I am well equipped and experienced with fighting should the need come, but I am of noble blood. A Domana." she said using her languages word for the nobles class. "The Sekasha guard us when we can not ourselves or need assitance."
-
He was intrigued when she said she could fight even though she was a noble. "How equipped and experienced in battle are you? I also wonder what 'Sekasha' is and where yours is? I ask simply out of concern"
He smiled slightly, realizing he had almost forgotten their deal about questions. "I believe that is enough questions from me and it is your turn to inquire about me."
-
"I am trained with a long bow and Blade as well as throwing daggers. Sekasha are our Beholden. Like...humans say....body guards. And as for the three that have vowed to me....I do not know. Nor do I know how I got here, but I suspect a gate..." she said trying to think it through. When he mentioned it was her turn with a small chuckle she gave another smile and a soft laugh.
"I have to inquire as to what you are as well. You are nothing like I have seen before. And I thought Elfhome was a mystery to discover." she said gently, her curiosity brightening.
-
"I am a Reln. I reside on the planet Vnehka or 'Fringe' in English. The Reln are also an aquatic and land species, that is we have regular lungs, but we also possess gills which allow us to reside underwater." As he spoke this last he moved the facemask that wrapped around his neck away to reveal his gills on the side of his neck.
After showing the gills to Jade he replaced the mask over the gills. "There are many different Relnian societies on Fringe. Some are fishermen and others are hunters. There are very few Warriors as they are not needed now that there is peace among the societies." He looked down at the table and his spots turned a dull gray in color. "I am the only Reln that has left Fringe. I often miss it." He said in a sad tone. Lucan looks back up at Jade with a smile on his face as his spots turn dull pink again. "Although if I had not left, I might never had the honor to meet such a beautiful being."
"Is there anything else you wish to ask of me?"
-
She understood the sadness of missing home. And the gills fascinated her, puting a sparkle of excitement to light behind her eyes. She kept her hands under the table in fear of reaching out to touch them. Then he called her beautiful and there was no stopping the blush. She swore it started in her toes and went all the way up to her ears. "Oh...Uh...." she said actually stumbling for something to say. That had never happened before. "How old are you?" she asked.
-
When he saw her deep blush and heard her stutter he could not contain his smile. He smiled broadly which exposed his teeth, which resembled razor-sharp spikes and his spots turned black. His smile looked menacing, but it appeared friendly.
"Well I am fifty years of age although a Reln lifetime is around one thousand years so I am considered quite young." Lucan looked at Jade with a mischievous smile and said "I would inquire as to your age, however I am not sure I want to test your efficiency in battle." He paused briefly before continuing "Or do I?" His smile becoming even broader and chuckling a little, his laugh sounding like trickling waterfall.
-
Illim looks up at Salem, the half-finished burger in his hands. "If I'd known you were buying, I'd've ordered a bigger burger," he remarks, setting his paltry meal down on his place.
He surveys the case and its owner a long moment, and then grins toothily. "To answer your question," Illim says, swinging around on his stool to face Salem, "I'll first admit I haven't known him all that long and then posit that it's just you."
-
<<Sounds like a good time to order a few more burgers, and a drink, then.>> Derrel said when he heard Salem, showing again that he liked just about anyone who would give him one of life's basic necessities. He didn't have anything to say about corliss, though. Never a good thing to talk about your boss behind his back.
Claxter decided to go back outside, due to all the chatter going on inside. If anything, he could find a way to watch Corliss without being obvious about it. He walked Towards Ossanlin, slowly catching up to Serid because of how slow Humans walked compared to Andalites. Or was he walking that slowly on purpose?
-
Corliss' grip on the Dracon weapon tightens. "Right," he jeers, "so you're just going to ask me to call up my brother, my highly volatile and wanted brother, to meet with you face-to-face about why she was present when you died. Isn't it obvious you won't like the answer? Or do you ask simply out of a perverse hope that you can change the course of events that happened here? As for your reassurances, you can keep them. I wouldn't trust the word of a Sub-Visser if my life depended on it." He hesitates before continuing, lowering the Dracon to his side. "I haven't seen Terenia in some time. Sorry."
-
|THETA-PI
We walked with the Claxter unit as he did.
Claxter, why does the Ossanlin unit trust us so little?
|OGREON
Just then, the strange humanoid in a cloak, and elegant fluid creature, entered the conversation. She was fluent with her words, she almost sounded like a diplomat. A well-seasoned diplomat. Ogreon was jealous of her smooth speech.
"Well then, I beg your forgiveness. I will leave you two to your deliberations, as you are obviously busy. Ghaddie.", he finished with a Klunti(His language) twist, meaning goodbye.
He walked back to Van and tried to see what had happened since he left.
-
<I believe I have sufficient supplies for the time being,> Efaen says, grateful that the tension between herself and her Prince seems to have passed. <Warrior Claxter graciously offered me the use of one of his Shredders, and I have Terenia's comm link still. I believe it can pick up Andalite transmissions, despite its Imperial origins.>
She notices Serid and Claxter emerging from the bar and shifts her hind legs, almost as eager to stay away from them as they are her. <Thank you for your help, my Prince,> Efaen says quickly, bowing her stalk eyes and lowering her tail respectfully. She turns, then, and makes her way towards Claxter.
<Warrior Claxter,> she says, a little too stiffly. <Did you happen to note where the Yeerk Corliss went?>
<It seems that the human was right about this Yeerk,> Zorish mutters to Tamora. <He appears to be quite volatile himself.>
<I don't like him,> Tamora says nervously. <What if he shoots us?>
<I do not think that he will,> Zorish says, although he has nothing to base this assumption on besides his gut feeling. <Ah well, we won't get anywhere standing here glaring at one another. Time to gamble.> Fixing Corliss with a stiff smile he reaches down to his Dracon with his right hand, holding his left up in a 'surrender' position.
"I am not going to shoot," he says, slowly pulling the weapon from its home. He turns it around in his hand, offering it to Corliss butt end first.
<What are you doing!?> Tamora screeches, loudly enough to make Zorish flinch slightly.
"There," he says calmly. "I am clearly no threat to you. I am offering you my weapon; I have no guards. Sub-Visser I may be in name, but here on this rock? So far from the Empire? I am just another Yeerk." He lets the weapon dangle from his fingers, waiting to see if Corliss will accept the offering.
"As for my interest in your brother...well, put yourself in my situation. If you discovered that you had died when you were clearly not dead, would it not pique your own interest? Wouldn't you want to uncover the truth of the situation? I cannot change what has already happened, but if the humans are correct and this is a meeting of time lines, perhaps I can prevent a similar situation from occurring in my time. Forgive me for holding my own life in high regard."
-
You're a complete stranger to him, and you look quite different from other Andalites. Your mechanical parts likely put him off, though I've told him you were captured and had all that forced on you. If you give him time, and promise not to try to assimilate anyone else, I'm sure he'll trust you in time. I haven't gotten around to telling him what you did to me, though I'll have to mention it when he has a spare moment. Just be patient,stay where I can monitor you, and don't take aggressive actions against anyone without permission unless it's in self defense.
<He went inside the bar, and is talking to Zorish. He still hasn't put his weapon away. I just...nevermind. Be careful. Did you ask Prince Ossanlin if he even knows exactly where the rebel base is? I don't suppose there was a way to smuggle a tracker with you? Perhaps in your shredder, or the belt you wear.>
-
|THETA-PI
We acknowledged the Claxter unit.
Our hyperadrenal store is almost complete. When it is complete we will be able to hyperstimulate our biofunctions. The nanoprobes are very efficient at their work.
-
<Zorish?> Efaen repeats. <That is the Yeerk that controlled Terenia's sister, is it not? I was under the assumption that he was deceased. Unless it is a different Zorish. No matter.> Efaen, who had not seen Zorish/Tamora enter the bar earlier, shrugs the information off as irrelevent. <Prince Ossanlin surely has some idea of the base's location. Regardless, he will speak with their leader before I take my leave. As far as trackers are concerned...> Efaen stands a little taller, <I have had my share of tracers and trackers with the Empire. I do not wish to be tagged yet again, however it would be beneficial if a method of communication between myself and my Prince could be arranged.>
-
Spectacular. He said, trying not to sound sarcastic. Though would theta even recognize sarcasm?
<I will never do anything to you against your will, Efaen.> Claxter said kindly. <Hopefully something can be arranged. Yes, someone came in that looked like Tamora, wearing an Imperial Uniform. I heard a little of her talking to Corliss, and it seems there is a new Zorish here. I don't know how she would react to you, though she passed by and didn't take notice of you before.>
-
<So one version of Terenia's sibling has become Taxxon meat while another walks freely,> Efaen muses. <Or as free as any individual can walk under Yeerk control. Intriguing. This place is very strange. I suppose I will see the truth of it soon enough; I am going to attempt to reason with the rebel Corliss. Perhaps this time he will hold his fire.>
She offers Claxter an Andalite smile, then glances at Theta nervously. <I wish the both of you luck in your current endeavors, whatever they may be. If you need me at any time before I leave, do not hesitate to call for me.>
She turns to continue towards the bar.
-
Corliss fixes Zorish with a wary stare. Slowly, carefully, he takes the Sub-Visser's weapon with his right hand, placing it in the single holster at his left hip.
He keeps his own Dracon drawn, but aimed at the floor, at his left side.
"Myitt is quite far from here, at the moment," he concedes. "But if you insist, perhaps I can try to contact her through my personal computer. It's the next best thing to meeting in person, I suppose. Would that be acceptable, Sub-Visser?" His lip curls in revulsion at the title.
-
Salem grinned, "I guess that's a fair answer. So... are you with the Rebellion then? Or've you just decided Corliss seems like a really quality kind of guy?"
He glanced over at Corliss, just in time to see Zorish offering his weapon. Salem sighed, his hand instinctually inching towards his own holstered weapon. In spite of Illim's assertion, Salem was fairly convinced that Corliss was... less than stable. He wasn't sure why everyone seemed so intend on trying to talk to Corliss in a reasonable manner. It might just be his natural charisma. That, Salem thought with a smirk, could make him dangerous.
-
"Quite," Zorish says with a small smile. His shoulders relax slightly as their conversation seems to progress in a favorable direction. "You are not fond of Imperial titles," Zorish notes with a small tilt of his head. "I suppose that means I was right about there being a bounty on your head. Nevermind the fact that few loyal followers of the Empire would bother to stop at this particular trash heap."
"For now," Zorish says, smirking slightly, "I'll ask you to please dispense with the formalities you seem to loathe so much. I am no Sub-Visser here. Merely Zorish. How will we proceed in contacting your brother, then?"
-
Ewa frowned at Salem's reaction and hasty departure. Does he have no knowledge of his own costume? Why dress like that then? It did stand out--well, a little bit anyways. There was so much diversity here that it was hard to be sure.
She resumed a less dramatic stance, pursing her lips and drumming her fingers on the bar. Normally, she might chalk the whole thing up to him being an incompetent audience participant, but he seemed too interactive for that. Not that any of this had much resemblance to what scapes were supposed to be.
Although she was tempted to follow Salem and question his reaction directly, the situation between Corliss and Zorish still felt tense. It would be best to keep an eye on that until they actually left the bar. Watching Salem talk with another human on the other end of the bar, it seemed he had a thing for being overly friendly and prying towards people who did not return the favor. I believe the word for that is "smarmy", she thought with half a smirk.
-
Ossanlin feels much stronger now, strong enough to support his andalite form. He begins the demorphing process and very quickly is back in his natural body. <Things feel so much more stable with four limbs on the ground.> Ossanlin swishes his tail a few times over his back, glad to have the appendage back again.
Ossanlin pulls out his transponder and auto-detects Efaen's signal. <I wish you good fortune in persuading Corliss and Reven. Remember, if you go to the Rebellion under any circumstances without Reven agreeing to my terms, your desertion will be assumed.> He nods slightly, turning toward the bar entrance.
He looks at Serid slowly approaching. <<Aristh, are you in good order?>> Ossanlin attempts to ask after Serid's health without the question seeming offensive or belittling.
-
"Very well then, Zorish," Corliss says, keeping his Dracon in one hand and retrieving the little blackish gray cube from the other side of his uniform. "Contacting my brother is a simple matter. Whether or not she'll answer the hail is another matter entirely." He smiles blandly and sets up the holoscreen to Myitt's encrypted signal.
-
Illim follows Salem's gaze, although he is more interested in who Corliss might be calling with his comm than their exchange of firearms. "What makes you think it's one or the other?" he asks, swinging his head back to Salem. "I have my own reasons for following him around." Jerking his thumb at Zorish, he says, "So who is she, really?"
Serid gives a slow nod as he closes the gap between him and the Andalite. It is difficult not to watch him return to his natural form without some level of resentment and jealousy bubbling up, but a quick reminder to himself that this is the individual who will attempt to help him regain his own body quashes most of the negative feelings.
"And you, War-Prince?" he asks, stopping before him. "I was... most impressed by your performance during the battle."
-
<I understand, my Prince,> Efaen says, stepping past Claxter and Theta and making her way to the bar. She pauses upon reaching the entrance, her stalk eyes scanning the crowd for Corliss. When she finally spies him her main eyes narrow at the sight of his companion.
Claxter was correct; that Yeerk filth is a carbon copy of my human morph, she realizes. From the doorway she watches their interactions closely - it seemed as though Corliss was doing something with his computer. His expression seemed no more cordial than the last time they interacted, and Efaen decides that perhaps she should allow him to finish. She sees no one else in the bar that she can count as an ally, and after a moments hesitation decides that if she cannot speak to Corliss she may as well remain close to him in some form. Straightening her shoulders she approaches the bar near Illim and Salem.
Zorish watches Corliss work with a small smile on his face. "So, Corliss," he says congenially as he waits. "I'm curious. What on Madra made you abhor the Empire so much? I am fairly sure the look of hatred you gave me is one I've only witnessed from our hosts, until today." His smile grows wider; clearly Corliss' dislike of him is not bothersome in the least.
-
Salem nodded. He hadn't really expected Illim to be completely open with him.
"Her?" he asked, in response to Illim's question. "She's a Sub-Visser named Zorish, apparently. From what I can gather, she came here to investigate her own death... or the death of the version of her that was here before." He noticed the female Andalite approaching. Had he scanned her? He tried to think back... such a haze lately. So much seemed to happen in this place... how long had it been since he'd slept? Time seemed to mean almost nothing at this bar...
He shook his head. As long as he was still feeling reasonably alert, there was no reason to be concerned, right?
"This bar is subject to some really weird anomalies," he said offhandedly, not really expecting a response. "Kinda piques my curiosity. I wouldn't know where to start when it comes to investigating that kind of thing."
-
"...I'd said no tomatoes..." Jasper muttered under his breath.
He and Sapttus had left for the bar a short while ago, and of all things, they were suddenly overcome with a desperate need to run to the restroom. Afterwards, they'd grabbed a seat at the bar, where Jasper ordered a sandwich. Salami, ham, and turkey, cheddar cheese, lettuce, and hot mustard. And no tomato. Just like he'd always had back on earth. It was such a relief that this place had the same foodstuffs as he was used to. Neither of them were sure how they'd survive otherwise. Sapttus may have been fine with it, but Jasper would have gone insane eating nothing other than oatmeal for weeks on end. He'd called the bartender over, who'd left with a smile, without a word, to carry out his request. Jasper looked at the other bar patrons. Was... he supposed to pay this guy? He happened to have some just a bit of cash, and some change probably, but he wasn't really prepared to build up a tab. He figured that if he wanted to be reimbursed, he would say something. That made sense... but it still felt weird.
Perhaps he hadn't spoken clearly enough, but when his plate arrived, he'd found a nice thick slice of juicy red tomato. Gross. He peeled it off with a grimace, set it on the side of his plate, and tried to not let the juice left behind bother him too much as he dug in. Fortunately, it didn't.
They looked around as they chewed. The crowd inside hat shifted some even just while he'd been in the restroom. He noticed the girl sitting somewhat close to him, idly drumming her fingers on the bar. There was.. something peculiar about her look - not that that was out of place here - and he realized he'd been staring, just slightly. Realizing this, he gave a little wave with his free hand, his other taken up with the sandwich.
-
Corliss smiles up at Zorish briefly while he waits. "Oh, I don't abhor the people of the Empire, necessarily," he says calmly, eyeing the screen. "I just don't appreciate the Council telling me I have to take away someone else's freedom for my own."
-
"Come now," Zorish says softly, his smile still in place. "There is some choice, surely. Since I achieved my current rank I have been capable of choosing to take voluntary hosts." He fixes Corliss with a curious gaze, "Very few Yeerks enjoy the irritation of another being in their head, shouting incessantly. I have not taken an involuntary since grubhood, yet I have met little resistance within the Empire's ranks for my preference."
-
<I am...tired. Thank you for asking.> Ossanlin glances Serid over. It did indeed look as though he had gone unscathed. <I thought you might like to know that I have permission from all involved to attempt to revert Terenia's nothlitism. I do not know how quickly my weakness will subside, I seem to be recovering quicker than ever before. As soon as I feel comfortable enough, I will attempt the procedure. I hope to learn some things to aid in your own...recovery.>
He takes a bit of a breath, composing his thoughts. <My...capabilities. They are unknown to most. I would not have shown them had I not been forced to. I am sorry that you had to witness such events. Had this been any other place, using such...techniques.. .might have destroyed the very fabric of reality.>
<In any case, I was planning on inviting you to watch the procedure if you should wish it. Of course you do not need to, but the option is open to you.>
Ossanlin glances at Claxter and the strange mechanoid cyborg andalite approaching. The cyborg presented an anomaly that needed to be explored. He merely waits for any response from Serid while the two approach.
-
"You misunderstand me, Zorish," Corliss says complacently. "I have no desire for a voluntary host while I am still forced to consider that host inferior to our own people. And even if I could find some semblance of equality with a voluntary host within the Empire, I would still be within the service of a corrupt regime that would rather dominate other races than coexist peacefully."
At that moment Myitt answers the hail, rubbing her tired eyes. "Yeah?" she croaks. "What do you want?"
"A 'Zorish' is here to speak with you," Corliss says, waving the holoscreen over to the Sub-Visser.
Myitt sits bolt upright, eyes wide. "You?" she gasps.
-
Although most of her attention was on Corliss and Zorish, Ewa noticed another human at the bar staring in her direction. It wasn't very unsettling--he looked decidedly less militant than most of the bar's patrons and was eating a messy sandwich. Not many people can pull off intimidating with a sandwich, even if they're not in shorts. After a long moment he gave her a sort of half-wave.
She hesitated, but he was not so far away she wouldn't be able to catch an occasional word from the conversation. Ewa raised her hand in return and moved over to join him. "Was I doing something strange?" she asks. "Or were you maybe just wanting some help with that tomato?" She glances down at the vegetable in question before meeting his eyes again.
-
Claxter catches up and stands near his Prince by the time they finish talking. He doesn't look to be in too good a mood, for obvious reasons, but complaining about things wouldn't really help the situation.
-
Zorish raises his eyebrows at the unfamiliar Controller's rather ____ reaction. His mildly amused smile never fades as he shifts his attention from Corliss to Myitt.
<<She killed you?>> Tamora asks dubiously. <<She doesn't look very threatening. Or like she brushes her hair...ever.>>
"Me, indeed," Zorish says in a quiet voice, ignoring Tamora. "I am Zorish Three-Five-Eight. I take it that you are Myitt One-Nine-Five? Excellent. It is not often that one is able to confront their own murderer after the fact." He settles back against the bar, watching the hologram of Myitt intently.
-
"Oh, uh, no ma'am, not at all. You uh... just caught my eye, I guess."
<<You are aware that you seem to be attempting a pick-up line, correct?>> Sapttus said, observing, but not bothering to intervene.
<<I know, I know, I'm just making things awkward!>> Jasper shouted back.
"I dunno.. I can't really tell if you look ... familiar or not. Well, not you, really, I kinda figure you're human and all that.. shoot, there's been plenty of others around here... it's just.. I'm not sure, I guess your outfit?"
<<I don't even know what I'm trying to say anymore....>> He moaned inside.
<<I don't even know what happened here to make this so uncomfortable for you...>> Sapttus said. He then took over for the time being. Jasper gladly let him.
"Maybe what I'm trying to say is that I can't tell if you remind me of Earth or not. I hope that isn't too odd for you to hear." Sapttus said with a slight smile. That sounded like something a normal person might say...
<<Tell her she can have that tomato...>> Jasper said.
"Oh, and that is up for grabs if you're interested. I won't be having it."
-
Van sat down, ordered a drink, and pondered the thought for a while. Parasitic mind-controlling brain slugs, eh? That's... certainly the kind of invader that can really drive your paranoia up a wall.
It's probably not like Thyllian bodily possession, which is obvious, awkward, and temporary. It's one of those things Humans feared in all their alien invasion fantasies: body snatchers, extraterrestrial hypnotics. It isn't beyond belief that such a race exists, but how would they have gotten off their home world? Maybe a native species there was sufficiently appropriate? But, if that was the case, why invade?
The Pirate took another swig of his drink, and looked around again. Ogreon was trying to make himself known here. His appearance wasn't something one would consider "friendly" from the start, so his efforts were understandable. But, he was also loud, and a bit overeager in his demeanor. Poor guy can't get a break, Van mused with a shrug.
The Clangst eventually returned to his side, perhaps the Bar was a bit too much of a mixed bag for him? Van wasn't sure, and though he wanted to ask more about the Yeerks, he also wanted to help the Ambassador.
"Hey, looks like things haven't gone too smooth for you, eh? You've got the personality, you're nice enough, but mm, the chaa..." he stumbled over the word, and paused, "Chaa-risma. That thing the word, whatever the word is. The people magnet. You need to find yours, the magnet. Mm, chaasi?"
Van grinned, and pointed at Ogreon, as if to make the point.
-
|OGREON
Ogreon looked to Van curiously, "Charisma? I took diplomatic training, I should have charisma..."
He sighed and walked over next to him. He ordered a cup of gen-jaa tea, "I usually have more...luck, introducing myself."
-
He seems very embarrassed for someone who waved me over. I must still be doing something that makes him feel awkward. But of course Ewa wasn't really doing anything at the moment. So far as she could tell, her clothes blended in as much as was possible in this place--that had been the idea when she got them. Nor was she standing inappropriate close or looming.
Suddenly his manner became more easy. Maybe he had just been expecting me to say something else.
"Aren't all the humans here from Earth?" she asked. "And thank you." She reached over to claim the tomato slice, folded it over, and popped it into her mouth. As she chewed a frown appeared on her face. "I see your point--this is a very strange tomato," she commented once she had finished.
-
Ossanlin glances at Serid once more before turning to Claxter. <This...organism has been with you for some time now. What is its status?>
-
|THETA-PI
<We are completely functional, Ossanlin.> We responded.
Ossanline had used a broad telepathic transmission. However, we had responded to what we perceived from Claxter's mental functions. We would not make a habit of that.
-
<I suppose I haven't given you a full report about him, my Prince.> Claxter said. He decided to start from the beginning. <This Andalite is Gremyyt, a friend of my father's. I never really knew him until now, though. He was captured by a mechanized force called Alvie, and given the designation Theta. He came here to assimilate everyone, but I managed to stop him with some help from an ally or two. Now the part that was theta has been repressed, though Gremyyt still acts more like a mechanoid than an Andalite.>
<So far he seems conflicted, but mostly not a danger. However due to his paranoia of being alone, he managed to inject me with nanoprobes so we could be linked. Without my permission. I hope this won't happen again. I don't know if they can be removed or not, but if they aren't, they will start making enhancements after a couple of days. What those will be, I'm not sure, but I assume it will make me look more like him. What happens when we get off this rock and closer to the Alvie's range, I'm also not sure.> The way he talked indicated that he was more annoyed about this than afraid. <I want to help him become an Andalite again.>
-
"It isn't very often one is able to confront the dead," Myitt retorts flatly. "Corliss, this isn't some sort of trick?"
Corliss shakes his head, even though his sibling cannot see him from the angle. "No, love," he says in English.
"How can this be possible?" Myitt demands incredulously. "I can believe the bar's ability to resurrect the dead, and that's a stretch, but how by the Kandrona itself did you know to contact me?"
-
"I am 218 years old. An Elf's agin is much slower, as you have proven, than a humans." she said. She easily looked the Human's age of 19 or 20. "An elf does not start to fully mature into an adult until the years between age 20 and 100. In retrospect I believe I may be considered slightly younger than you in the way our people think." she said. She took another drink and finally was able to calm her blush.
-
He thought what Jade had said very odd. Perhaps Elves live longer than Reln do. "I do not mean to offend, but how long do Elves typically live?"
Lucan drained the last of his drink, his spots again changing blue then red and then dull pink when he looked over at Jade. He decided to order another drink and said to Jade "Would you like another drink?"
-
"What does it matter?" Zorish says, with a small shrug. "The point is that I have contacted you. And, now that I have your attention, I have questions. The primary of which deals with the nature of my...death."
Zorish pauses, glancing at Corliss before he continues. "I am not typically a cruel Yeerk, so I really do wish to know what it was that I did to merit an assassination by someone such as yourself. Tell me, Myitt, what did I do to offend you so?"
-
Ossanlin's brow furroughs more and more as Claxter's speech goes on. He then looks at Theta. <You speak in the plural, how odd. What is your name?> Ossanlin knows Claxter told him both the original andalite's name and the 'designation' given to him by this tecnological race, but he wanted to see how the mechanoid being responded to the question.
-
"All tomatoes are very strange." Jasper says, slightly grossed out. Sapttus answers her other question then. "As far as I'm aware, yes. Although... it wouldn't surprise me in the least if humans had expanded to elsewhere in one of these alternate timelines I've been told about. That whole concept is still rather confusing to me. I'm not used to having to accept - and expect - varying realities quite yet." They reach for their water bottle for a quick drink. But it's no where to be found. They look down at their beltloop where it was supposed to be.
<<...where'd my water bottle go?>>
<<To be honest, I have no idea.>>
<<Okay... we *have* to find it. You know how much that one means to me.>>
<<Yes, how could I not? You wouldn't let me forget if I wanted to. Don't worry, friend, it's probably back on Salem's ship, I would imagine.>>
<<Oh, right, right. Probably dropped it when you got all, uh, spazzy.>>
After just a couple seconds, Jasper looks back up at the lady speaking with him. "I'm sorry.. I don't think I introduced myself yet... I'm Jasper." He smiles and holds out a hand.
-
Theta looked curiously at Ossanlin, <As of recently, we have been referred to as Theta.>, he said simply.
Then, <However, our complete designation is Unit Theta-477 of Adjunct Pi-675810.>
-
Ossanlin nods. <I see, then you are no longer an andalite. You consider yourself to be a member of this mechanoid race. And did Gremytt choose to join this 'collective' race of cyborgs of his own free will?>
-
Van frowned at Ogreon's answer, "Maybe the magnet teachers... anh, the kah-risma teachers, for diplomats didn't expect you to show up in the weird Bar, chaa? Mmm, I could always help."
He put his glass down, when suddenly, an idea struck him! Van grinned, "I know! I could help in the department of flirting!"
Eh, maybe there are no ladies he'd be attracted to, I know, but easing someone into knowing how to flirt makes them instantly familiar to others! Easy to relate to!
Van gestured around at the various female guests at the Bar. And, much to the Pirate's delight, there were plenty of ladies to choose from. His personal interest was still in Ewa, but since he hadn't put any concrete moves on her yet, it should still be fine to flirt around a bit.
He reasoned, "Why not? There are a plenty of the ladies all around, chaa."
-
Claxter didn't like Ossanlin saying the guy was no longer an Andalite. I mean sure, he had been captured and his mind had been warped. However, Claxter hoped this could be reversed. He shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to interrupt.
-
Myitt watches Zorish, curiously. "If I told you that, would it prevent you from dying?" She smiles mirthlessly. "I don't like to think of myself as a particularly cruel person, either, so let's just say your continued existence would have endangered the lives of the people I care for. Beyond any doubt."
-
"I find that quite difficult to believe," Zorish says dryly, folding his arms. The look of irritation on his face makes his host look even more like Terenia, if possible. "My specialty pertains to saving lives, not eliminating them. I never see combat and I rarely am involved directly in the war effort. I have no interest in endangering anyone; not even dapsen traitors like yourself."
<<What about me?>> Tamora prods.
"And what of my host body?" Zorish presses, relenting to her curiosity. "Was she a danger to those you care for as well? Forgive me if I find that even more difficult to believe. Tamora doesn't have the stomach for such things."
-
Rathien's stream-lined ship slips into the atmosphere smoothly, gliding through the upper stratosphere. He locates the concentration of ships that must make up the docking area. The flames of reentry die off and nothing more than a slight distortion of light betrays the presence of Rathien's craft. The Ildari does a sweep of the area and locates technology that appears analogous to the type that Tobias employs. He locates no sign of Thienal, and if there wasn't a sign of that bounty-hunter...he wasn't present.
A further sweep shows technology analogous to Yeerk and Andalite craft as well as some signatures he doesn't recognize. Perhaps Tobias wasn't the only bounty to be had at this rock in the middle of nowhere. Rathien picks a small, empty clearing out of the way and sets his ship down not more than half a mile from the structure, the cloak still active. He undoes the seat restraints and checks his equipment. Satisfied that everything is in place, he opens the ramp and descends, setting pliable, leather-like boots on soft grass. "Strange, this rock seems too small to be able to support natural biomass."
He shrugs and pulls out his modified ARC computer...a little "gift' from one of his Andalite marks some time back. It really was a useful little gadget and the poor blue quadruped had no further use for it after Rathien was done with him. The computer shows a habitable atmosphere all around the small planetoid, with standard gravity though given its size its gravity should be much diminished over that of a standard planet.
He shrugs again...it's the type of place Tobias would enjoy after all...anomolous. He presses the button on his wrist-pad that engages his active camo and more-or-less vanishes from sight. The camoflage also represses non-visible light spectrums as well as sound, leaving nothing but a slight light distortion in place of his body. He treks the relatively short distance to the bar and surveys the building. Hopefully Tobias's android lackey hadn't been actively scanning with that ship of theirs...it was one of the few tecnologies (at least that Rathien knew of), that could see through his ship's cloak if they looked real hard.
He catches a glimpse of Tobias through a window, apparently taking his ease, trying to sell something from his bag of tricks from the look of it. A shot from Rathien's entroper through the window might have a chance of taking Tobias out altogether, but not without collateral damage. Knowing Tobias he'd be up to his old tricks, probably wearing an explosive suit linked to his vitals. The entroper would break the bonds of the explosive it contacted, but not the stuff it didn't hit. Besides, this wasn't The Kill for Tobias, Rathien could sense it. There was a better way and Rathien would find it.
He also notices several humans that he imagines are controllers, one in an obviously kempt Imperial uniform. The others though...they might be rebels given the location unless they were merely under-cover. Outside he notices four Andalites some distance off from the bar. One was obviously female given her build and coloration. One had some very intriguing mechanical modifications...suc h rampant mechanization was indicative of a rather nasty race known as the Alvie. If this one was still connected to the collective, he would bear watching if not outright elimination. There was a younger male though he carried himself with the pride of a Warrior. And the older male held a stature of a Prince, and most-likely the commanding officer of the others. Such a unit could also cause troubles. One Andalite was hard enough to deal with, but four...the odds would not be in his favor.
Tobias was amongst too many people...a hit now would be irresponsible. Rathien is suddenly stricken with a strange urge to go in for a drink. Normally Rathien stalked in silence, his prey never knowing what was watching them, but Rathien's 'sixth sense' was rarely if ever wrong. Usually following it led to the most favorable outcome for him. Regarding prey, it usually led to The Kill. The only time Rathien had ignored it, he'd nearly died himself. He shakes his head, shrugging, and goes around to the back of the bar, disarming his active camo out of sight.
He walks back to the front of the bar and opens the archaic swinging doors. Any onlookers would see his 6'6" slender yet defined human-like build. His light-blue, almost silver hair hangs to his shoulder-blades in a ponytail bound at the nape of his neck, his intense, aqua-blue eyes faintly iridescent in the low light. The only defining characteristic showing that he is not of Earth-human stock besides the hair-color are the pointed tips of his ears, those extending a bit past his temple. His garb consists of a black tunic integrated with creme-colored flexible plates of maleable armor across his upper chest and shoulders, the plates on his shoulders extending straight out about half a foot. His leather-like, mahogony vambraces bind his sleeves in just past the elbow. His black half-cape embossed with thread-of-silver scrollwork hangs to his waist, the designator of his clan back on Ildiar. The elegant hilts of two fighting-blades can be seen protruding up over each shoulder-plate, the blades themselves curving sinuously across each other underneath his cape. The black and silver braided belt at his waste binds the fabric of his tunic in, a holster on his right hip holds his Entroper...a weapon that resembles a simple black blaster pistol, though in truth has a much different effect. His loose-fitting black pants are bound just past the knee by his mahogany, shin-high, leather-like boots...more pliable, creme-colored armor plates covering the shins and toes.
One being in particular catches his glimpse...a female humanoid with pointed ears. Was she another Ildari? He wants to ask her but it looks as though she is engrossed deeply in a conversation with an amphibious-looking being and it would be rude to interrupt. He decides instead to take a stool one down from Salem, grinning over at him, showing the sharp and somewhat elongated vestigial fangs of his race. "Greetings Tobias." He orders a drink from the BT, a green ale drunk commonly on his home planet at special occasions. He takes a swig, looking back at Tobias again, still grinning. "It's been a while."
-
((O.o Thats one meaty post lol))
|THETA-PI
Theta-Pi's face bEcame emotionless, <We are not of Alvie. We were disconnected from the collective. We established a new collective, which is not of Alvie.>
Theta ran through his memory engrams, <Gremytt, our...my former state of being, was taken unwillingly. We believe the phrase appropriate would be, 'kicking and screaming.' We did not ugly realize the state if perfection the collective exists within. There is tranquility. No confusion. Every unit knows their directive and every unit accomplishes it. It is...efficient.>
Theta knew he was "rambling." But everything besides the statements that directly answered Ossanlin's questions were not for Ossanlin. They were for himself. He was trying to reason to himself why he was holding on to the collective, perhaps even longing for it again. But the answer was clear; there was no pain. No thinking for oneself. If one could not think of a painful event, such as the assimilation of oneself or ones...loved ones...there was no pain. So Theta latched on to his programming.
|OGREON
Ogreon had a shocked look, "What? Flirting? If you haven't noticed, I seem to be the only insectoid around here, nevermind the only Clangst. And what good would flirting do me if I had to persuade the J'khuraaans or the Kqorrians that war was not the answer? I'm sure none of them would have me. Especially because their both masculine-superior races, and I would barely see any of their females in battle or in any official event."
Ogreon thought about his career. While he didn't earn the rank of Ambassador for nothing, and no Ambassador(Not even an attaché for that matter) was really less important than another, he was not well known in the galaxy. He'd never mediated any major debate, or overseen any special deliberation. He'd always wanted to save the galaxy from an impending threat...but he was an Ambassador on a scientific ship, and was mostly always in unexplord territory, too far from anything important except discovering a new planetary lifeform...an ambassadors life was simple. But his people loved science so much instinctively, that he had become a scientist ambassador. But one was weighing out over the other, and hindering the other career choice.
"Although...I've never had much luck even with my species."
-
Van waved his hand dismissively, "Boring, boring, boring... All boring excuses! A skill at the flirting might make the job easier. It grants you better eyeballs for an understanding of people, chaa. Even if you aren't going to flirt, knowing how helps. I would know."
The Pirate slid off his stool, and put a hand on the Clangst's shoulder, "Both the men and the women love me. Enh, it's true. And as a Beryllian, I am a master of love and charisma. My race once led one of the most successful empires in the galaxy!"
For every effort he took in stepping back from his culture, Van couldn't completely deny it, either. Invoking his people was easy. But, he didn't want to mention that they were among the most reviled races in the galaxy today, either.
However, he did have a point. His people had benefited from a great many charismatic wordsmiths, who spearheaded their colonization campaigns with, historically, great success.
-
<You are no longer an Alvie? So your link has been permanently severed? If you are not Alvie, and not Andalite, then what are you?> Ossanlin raises an eyebrow. He has been in a state of increased alertness since Claxter said that the being had injected him with some sort of nano technology unwillingly, ready to strike any appendage that might come close to his body.
-
"I'm Ewa," she returns as she takes Jasper's hand. "And I suppose it's safe to say I'm from Earth then." With no background sheet it's always best to go with the majority. "Though I guess in this place that doesn't really say much, does it? It's more a matter of which Earth you come from. Or have traveled to if you're a Yeerk."
She notices a new humanoid enter the bar and fill one of the seats between them and Salem. From his look and dress, Ewa thought he probably came from a fantasy-genre origin. Some kind of Elf perhaps. "Of course there are plenty of exceptions I guess," she says, nodding in the direction of the newcomer. She looks back at Jasper with a self-deprecating smile. "I'm still very new here."
-
Salem had received a signal a few moments earlier that could represent a cloaked ship landing- a disturbance in the atmosphere, and a few other signals that his ship had picked up, all faint. He'd chosen to ignore it. Probably just another Bug Fighter. Yeerks in cloaked Bugs seemed fairly common here. He'd continued his conversation with Illim without giving it a second thought.
That is, he didn't think about it until he heard the voice calling his name from the next stool. He hadn't bothered to turn and look as the newcomer had entered the bar. It hadn't even crossed his mind that maybe somebody here had finally come for him. Now there was someone here, not calling him by the new identity he'd adopted, but using his real name instead.
He knew the voice even before he looked. He should have known Rathien would track him down. His hair stood on end. This was not like the hunter, revealing his presence. A chill went down his spine. There was something wrong with this situation. A trap?
"Rathien," he said shrilly, turning, the surprise evident in his voice. He took a breath, quickly returning to the confident air with which he usually carried himself. "I didn't think I'd see you again." He smirked, "You're showing yourself before you shoot. What's the occasion?"
-
|OGREON
Ogreon looked at Van unsurely, "I'm not sure. I'm not attracted to anyone here. How much would anyone be impressed by me. I know my appearance is most alarming to many humanoids. This doesn't feel professional, Van. I'm not a promiscuous person. I'm an ambassador of the Alliance, and I have to keep a good reputation."
|THETA-PI
Theta's head drooped slightly. What was he. If Pizali were here, standing in front of him right now...what would she think of him? What would she say? The Alvie would be searching for him, but they would not get here for weeks. And he wasn't one of them. But...was he an andante anymore? He had been perverted by the Alvie...assimilated, taken control of, body larts removed to make room for superior, but inhuman tools. No...perhaps he wasn't an Andalite anymore.
<We...do not know.>, Theta managed to say.
Ossanlin's words had caught him off guard. He was unable to keep a block on his thoughts from Claxter.
-
Myitt scoffs. "The Empire is not in the express business of saving lives," she says, defensively crossing her arms in a mirror of Tamora. "And you can rest assured that your host was not harmed. Not by me, anyway, and not as a result of your death."
Corliss raises an eyebrow at the newcomer, who is dressed like some sort of fanciful knight, but turns his attention quickly back to the holoscreen.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin watched as the strange being thought about his question. His glance softens a bit...obviously the Alvie, whoever they were, had forced their ways on him. Perhaps his thoughts had been coopted as well...his answer suggested a linear thought-process...perhaps a non-linear question was beyond his comprehension. <You're being too literal...not reading enough into the question. You have an identity, but you must decide what it is. Really I'm asking what do you want to be?>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____
~Rathien~
"You know I found myself wondering the same thing. I could've killed you a few moments ago, probably. You always have the most interesting little gadgets, senrin. Two reasons really. First off you know how I abhor collateral damage. My entroper shot would've been precise, but the damage from your little explosive suit could've leveled this entire building. Second, it was not The Kill."
Rathien pauses for a moment, takes another drink, and then continues. "You remember that time on Lursa seven I'm sure. That is the only time I ignored my instinct and your little android lackey almost ended my Dream because of it. It was such a perfect plan, and the bounty was so large. Never did it occur to me that you would deliberately use yourself to spring my trap, and have that thing waiting in counter-ambush. See, I had a very strong urge not to pull the trigger on my phase rifle right when I needed to. I ignored it and the shot lit up my position like a ferin sholoth storm for that artificial construct." Rathien's smile twists sickly at the mention of Al. "Since that experience I've learned to obey my feelings...and my sixth sense told me to come in for a drink."
His wide grin returns, his fangs showing again, as he continues. "And as a child on Ildiar I used to enjoy toying with my prey. Not to mention that this place looks ripe for the picking. The Hunt is always more interesting when you're outnumbered." This time his grin doesn't falter.
-
"So I've heard," Illim nods in response to Salem's observation about the Bar's stronger peculiarities. "Well, maybe that means her claims are unsubstantiated."
The vaguely notices the door opening behind him and Salem's communication device trilling quietly, but pays no attention to how the situation might affect him or his dining partner until Salem's jump of surprise seems to launch his vocal chords into the range of a schoolboy's. "Or, you know, maybe it means his claims are," he remarks dryly. "If that's, indeed, what's going on here."
Serid is about to respond to Ossanlin when two other Andalites approach, one of them bearing an appearance so unsettling Serid can hardly look at him. He listens to their open thought-speech conversation in silence a few moments before taking a step back to allow them to finish.
The conversation may not have pertained to him directly, but it was consoling to hear Ossanlin speaking to others with consideration and generosity. Perhaps this Andalite--if he could even be considered such with his extraordinary powers and mindset--truly could help him.
-
Theta's brows came down slightly, <How does one assume an identity, when your identity can be none other than what you are?>
Several seconds passed in which Theta was silent. He began to calculate a more satisfactory answer.
<We...do not know what we want to be...we...>, Theta stumbled. Perhaps he should start associating with nonandalites. Being around his kind seemed to stir up emotions he was trying to hide.
<We...want to be home. We want to be with Pizali, and Chugilor on Jaegis. We want to stop the Alvie from ever assimilating us, Gremytt-Pekulon-Thelan...the likelyhood of this occuring is less than 8.47%. Transtemporal transportation is difficult.>, he added the last part, again, for himself. To keep on with his drone-like attitude, and to reason that there was no reason to become emotional about something he had no control over. It wasn't logical.. But his hearts were begining to burn, like kindle forthe bonfire.
-
~Ossanlin~
<Does that mean you want to be an Andalite? If that is what you want, then that is what you are at heart. We may be able to help you achieve a more organic form, however you would need to make sure that your connection with this Alvie collective is completely and totally severed for the rest of your life.> Ossanlin pauses for a moment. <You violated one of my Warriors with your nano-machines. If you truly want our help, you will instruct us upon how to remove or destroy all Alvie technology within the host without harm.>
-
Suddenly, Theta clamps his eyes shut, exceptthe one that has been replaced with the interphasic scanner and has no eye-lids. He tries to shut out the world for just a moment.
<We do not desire to be andalite. We do not desire to be Alvie. We desire to go backwards in time and assure this never happened. But that will not occur. The Alvie have damaged us...there is no going back...no...no...>, he tried to shake his past on Jaegis out of his head.
When Ossanlin mentioned removing the mechanical parts from Claxter, including the one that kept them linked his eyes went wide, <No! We will not bear the solitude...the confusion, the isolation. It is terrifying! Terrifying! No! I wont go back to it! You military type are all the same, you think you know everything! Look what you did to me! LOOK WHAT YOU DID!>
Theta was breathing heavily. He shut his eyes hard again and turned his head away, ashamed, angry, confused, and feeling more alone than he had when he was not linked to claxter.
-
~Ossanlin~
<These Alvie have corrupted you, I was hoping you would wish to repair that corruption. If you do not, then we have no further dealings.> Ossanlin shakes his head. <Any normal military Andalite would scoff and refuse to even associate with you. I wish to assist you but if you do not wish to be helped, then there is no point in my attempting to do so. You must want to be helped before you can be. I have done nothing to you and you have no reason to bare your fangs upon me.>
Ossanlin sighs. <Claxter will be purged of these nanites whether you want it to happen or not. Claxter is a true Andalite, and one that would rather accept death than slavery. He no longer runs and hides from his problems. Forcing people to change their very being is wrong in every way. You have no right to do that no matter how superior you think you are. You remind me of a typical military Andalite, forcing his own misguided reality upon others for his own personal gain. What right do you presume to have? If we are unable to remove the nanites with our own technology, you will tell me how to do so.> Ossanlin's 'voice' echoes strongly in a commanding tone at the last sentence.
-
"That is reassuring, at least," Zorish says. "Even if it is contrary to my original reports. He runs a hand through Tamora's hair, looking uneasy. "And the Empire is entirely concerned with saving lives. Host bodies are not much use if they are dead."
"Tell me, then, Myitt. What circumstances surrounding my presence convinced you that I was a threat? Are traitors to the Empire so paranoid that they think every single Yeerk with an Imperial badge is out to annihilate them?" He smiles wanly, "Some of us do have better things to do with our time."
Efaen notes that the bar is quickly becoming more crowded. She sidles around Salem, having no interest in the human. Instead, she approaches Illim from his other side.
<You will be returning to the rebel base of operations,> Efaen says, trying and failing at hiding her disgust towards the Yeerk. <Based on your eagerness to assist Corliss in assaulting me, I presume he is your superior. Is that correct?>
-
Claxter didn't much like the direction this conversation was going. He didn't want Theta to get upset, though he didn't relly know what to say. The nanobots needed to be removed, but Theta was so afraid of being alone that there was no telling what he would do.
<<My Prince, I feel we should help Gremyyt with his phobia of being alone. If we remove the nanobots before he becomes more comfortable with his individuality, he might find someone else to do this to. We can't just quarantine him. That would be cruel.>>
Derrel was feeling uneasy with that bounty hunter. Luckily he didn't have a bounty on his head, though Illim was a rebel. Someone out there would probably pay for his murder or capture. Then Efaen came and talked to Illim, and he felt crowded.
-
|THETA-PI
Theta put on an emotionless face again.
<War Prince Xaero-Oligar-Ulahaan was in command of the Dome-Ship WarVeteran. We were assigned as an aristh to the WarVeteran. There was a group of six arisths and warriors, including ourself, that went to Jaegis to rendezvous with the WarVeteran. Four out of those six decided to stay on Jaegis, and live their lives in peace; Ourself, Pizali, Chugilor, and Sewitan.
<When the Dome Ship came to retrieve Irigow and Vetaq, Prince Xaero came to visit pizali, Chugilor, and us. He tried to persuade us to rejoin the military. We refused, and he said it was a shame that we were not like Sewitan. He had managed to get Sewitan to leave us. Sewitan had just come up with a way to dissolve metallic bits in milliseconds.
<Even before the Dome Ship left, the Alvie Sphere arrived. It was magnificent really. The simplicity of the perfect sphere. It was at least 8 times the size of a Dome Ship's Dome. The WarVeteran battled it for some time. One minute later, the Dome Ship had suffered heavy damage. The Alvie sphere had suffered some damage, but was adapting to the WarVeteran's shredders. Sewitan, the genius that he is, suggested fluctuating the frequency of the shredders so they didn't have time to adapt. He even asked to weaponize his new metal dissolving technology.
<But Xaero refused. He sent the scoop a message. A personal message for me. <I am afraid,> he said. And he ran. He jumped to z-space before anyone could say anything. Sewitan's technology could have saved us all. But then the units came. They assimilated me, and Chugilor. They killed Pizali. No one knows why. Even being connected to their mainframe for years, I don't know why they killed her...>
Theta realized his head had drifted. He was now looking into the distance. He looked back at Ossanlin, <We did not take control of your Aristh, War-Prince Ossanlin,> the title was said with a sneer, <We merely supplied him with superior, mechanical abilities, while connecting us so that we could both be more efficient.>
Theta turned his whole body towards Claxter and was silent for a moment. Then everything somehow became even quieter.
<We have ordered the nanoprobes to disassemble the cybernetic implants and exit the body. We will be a nuisance no longer.>
He turned back to face Ossanlin and walked closer, <Perhaps you are right, War-Prince Ossanlin, in that I am not unlike your military type. We all have one thing in common, you, Xaero, and us. Fear. Fear of the unknown. For Xaero it was fear of the Alvie. For us it is the fear of solitude. For you...it is the fear of me. Our apologies, War-Prince Ossanlin. We will leave you now.>
Theta turned and headed towards the bar. Not even stopping, he thought about what he just said to Ossanlin. Did it make any sense? Yes, to him it did. But wait...there was something else...
<While we are still opposed to the military, We must confess you have done us more good this day than even Claxter has. You cause our hatred of the military to surface, and that helped us to return more to our state of individuality. We express our gratitude for that. That is all.>
Theta entered the bar...
-
As Efaen approaches, Illim brings up Derrel's shoulders slightly, his host's dislike of being cornered reflected in his own actions. He stuffs the remainder of his burger in his mouth and scoots down a stool away from Salem, attempting to force Efaen back as he moves.
"Something like that," he says after swallowing. "But you've oversimplified the situation a bit. Not that you probably give a damn." He grins, although his eyes are flat.
Serid watches Theta depart, feeling pity for the creature. "A sad tale," he remarks to Ossanlin in a murmured voice. It reminds him of his own: snatched irreparably from a happier past by forces out of his control. Still, it is undoubtable that Theta's journey back to a physical state closer to his birthright will be more difficult than Serid's.
-
Van shrugged off the Clangst's protests, "Look, we aren't anywhere near where you're from, chaasi? Also, promiscuous or not, a little bit of the loosening up is good!"
Van stretched, his arms and sighed, "Well, why not I try this out first, and ease you into a conversation with someone, chaa? Just a little fun, introductions, junk-nyah, junk-nyah, and the other things." He paused, and continued, "I mean to say, I'll do the flirting, introduce you, get them comfortable with you as my friend, and all that. Thing."
The Pirate approached the Clangst, and poked him, "Nichaa, I mean, you need the break! Your crew isn't here, and they don't need to see you having all the fun," He grinned, and spun away, his voice taking a more sing-song tone, "They would get jealous, Ogreon-ku!"
Van brushed his fingers through his hair, with an impish twinkle in his eyes, I think this will be fun! Very fun! Hmm, I ought to be on the casual. Bad pickup lines and the like. Girls find that cute, if done right! And Ewa would think I wasn't too serious about the others. I need to make her feel special, in turn. Be earnest.
Especially since the weird look-alike couple... His eyes glanced at off at where he last saw Elayne, Is, eh, a couple. Off-limits. Damn! Mar-zhen and her?! Mar-zhen and her! All crazy stuff.
-
|OGREON
Ogreon's head drooped, "This just doesn't feel right..."
He looked up...and saw the Andalite. But it wasn't just any andalite. It was a cyborg...
"Alvie...", Ogreon whispered to himself, his eyes followed the abomination as it went up to the bar. Ogreon tried to back away quietly.
|THETA-PI
Theta walked up to the bar, taking note of the beings around him. Several humanoids, a strange arthropod-like species...
He approached the bar and looked at the bartender, <We assume you will have something strong. Something that could overwhelm a mechanized immune system?>
The bartender went into the back. Theta heard a piano playing. When the bartender came back out, Theta said, <Nevermind. Thanks anyway.>
Theta looked around. He scanned one or two people with his interphasic scanner, and found someone who'd been here for a while. He walked up to him(Salem).
<Pardon our intrusion please. Is that piano playable?>
Theta remembered his short time as a poet/song writer. He felt like releasing his emotions in music.
-
Salem smiled nostagically as Rathien described his prior big escape from the hunter. He'd had to run from Rathien on multiple occasions, but that had been the closest call. All worth it to imagine the look on Rathien's face when he realized he'd been tricked. Salem wasn't about to let on just how close of a call it'd actually been. He smirked at Illim before he moved a little ways away with the female Andalite.
"I remember," Salem said, smirking at the hunter. "Your mistake in toying with some pray is in thinking that the prey won't toy with you in return." His eyes flickered to Rathien's weapons. Could he draw his weapon and get a shot off before Rathien did anything? Not likely. The hunter was fast- faster than Salem- and probably one of the smartest adversaries Salem had ever dealt with. He wouldn't allow himself to be shot quite so easily. The least Salem could do was avoid saying something that would betray the advantages he currently had and didn't have. Best to keep the hunter guessing.
"Your insistence on finding the right kill, the right challenges, that'll get you into trouble some day, Ildari," Salem said. He grinned, "So tell me, am I worth more dead or alive these days? Are you still taking jobs from the Yeerk Empire?"
He turned as the mechanized Andalite approached him, his hair on end. He made sure to keep Rathien in his peripheral vision. He wasn't going to let the hunter's talk of "being outnumbered" bring his guard down.
"I think so," Salem replied to the Andalite. "I don't think I've caught your name. I'm Salem," he shot a smirk at Rathien. "I'm a little curious... those implants of yours... what're they all for? Is that an Andalite military program I haven't heard about?"
When Al saw Rathien walk in, he watched him carefully. Would the creature recognize him? Probably not right away. He was using a different image than he had when they'd last met. Still, no telling what he could tell.
Al made his way across the room and stood near the bar's jukebox, keeping an eye on the hunter.
-
<Oversimplified?> Efaen echoes, his movements making her shift away from him slightly. Her stalk eyes scan nervously; the bar has become rather crowded, and her Andalite sensibilities dislike the lack of open space. Still, she presses on. <I need to get in contact with the rebel leader, to ensure that my Prince approves of my own passage to the rebellion. Your superior seems to be a bit busy at the moment-> her main eyes cast an unsettled glance towards the Terenia look-alike. <I was wondering if you could assist me.> The request comes out in almost a painful tone; she is not used to asking Yeerks for anything, and it is obvious enough from her demeanor that she does not like it one bit.
-
"My pleasure, Ms. Ewa." Jasper says with a smile. "True, true..." Sapttus said in regards to her first comment. "This has been my first visit to another planet. It's been... quite the interesting experience so far."
<<Ha, that's an understatement.>>
<<It certainly is. I don't think telling her all about the lady blowing her head off would be good for small talk however.>>
Ewa looked over at the blue fella who'd walked in, and Sapttus followed her gaze. He couldn't hear what was being said from that side of the bar, but he noticed that Salem seemed extremely uneasy around this guy. He was worried for him, mostly considering he was his only hope for a cure. Hopefully he wasn't in any trouble. He looked at Salem, eyebrow raised, trying to let him see that he was there if he needed.
<<Yeah, right, what are we gonna do if something goes down here? Pull out my little pocket knife? Throw oatmeal in his eyes? Look at those swords, buddy. Those aren't decorations. >> Jasper said worriedly.
"Looks like trouble..." Sapttus said quietly.
-
|THETA-PI
Theta looked himself over, thinking back to his conversation with Ossanlin. If someone could recognize him as an Andalite, maybe that made him Andalite enough.
<They are not for any military operation. They were implanted into us by a cyborg race of drones.>
He gestured to his left arm, <This is a Static Ion weapon. Five times as painful as static electricity, two times as powerful as a normal Ion weapon.>
Pointing at his right eye, <This is an extranominal visual amplifier and interphasic scanner, two of the most sophisticated scanning devices ever.>
Finally, he gestured at the device on his left fore-leg, <This is a hyperadrenal store. All my other implants have a purpose if you'd like me to elaborate.>
-
Illim considers Efaen a long moment before hitching a shoulder and offering an apologetic smile. "Honestly, I haven't even been able to talk to him, myself. Just my former host and everyone around me. I'm not, strictly speaking, a part of the rebellion yet, you see?" he says, raising an eyebrow.
-
Claxter felt a little relieved at having the nanoprobes gone, but also sad for Theta. He knew too well what fear was like, though he was surprised a Prince would feel enough fear to actually desert. He had thought by the time you got that far in rank, you would have overcome your fears enough to not be ruled by them. That made him feel uneasy.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin does not answer Claxter, allowing Theta to speak. As he turns to leave, Ossanlin feels both relief and sadness for the being's plight. He then addresses Claxter. <<You will alert me immediately if you feel any strangeness, nothing guarantees that he has actually instructed those nanites to leave your body. Assuming he did, do you not think it best for the both of you? You are right in that he has become addicted to being a part of a hive mind...making you the same as himself was merely feeding the addiction, much like trying to help an Andalite addicted to mirana grass by giving him more mirana grass.>>
He sighs and stamps a hoof. <<At least a portion of the goal I was trying to achieve actually happened, though I cannot approve the means by which it has happened. You must learn Warrior that people can only be helped if they wish to be helped. I've no time for beating around the bush...I don't like to play games. I do want you to keep an eye on him in case he attempts to...assimilate...anyone else. If you feel that your conversation with him will help his predicament, then you have my permission to pursue it on your own. However, do not forget who and what you are in the process. You are an Andalite...a Warrior. And I expect you to exude at least the level of responsibility expected of a Warrior. And as your commanding officer, I expect your loyalty as well.>>
Xaero had been discharged for the mess he'd left on that colony...and rightfully so. The Electorate tried to cover it up...the Yeerks had struck an underhanded blow while the colony had been all but defenseless...that was the story they'd put out. It was...interesting.. .to hear the true tale.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________
~Rathien~
Rathien runs his tongue over one of his fangs, still grinning as he watches Salem. He notices the being's eyes flicker towards his weapons...good, he was uneasy. Of course Rathien generally had that effect on most people. "On the contrary, Tobias...the prey that can think is much more enjoyable to hunt. You may have wounded my pride a bit, but the experience served only to deepen the excitement of The Hunt. You showed that you could be lethal in turn...I relish such prey. My satisfaction will be all the greater when I finally end your Dream."
Rathien takes another sip, thinking about Salem's words regarding his obsession with The Kill, and shakes his head a bit. "You know I pity you just a bit...being responsible for The Kill...it is a transcendental experience. So deeply gratifying that nothing can compare to it...not even mating with your serashin. You will never experience that deep and abiding joy, but if you had even a taste of it, you would know why I insist upon seeking it. Taking life is easy, but executing The Kill is penultimate to god-hood. It is truly the power of life and death...the moment where one holds a being's very existence in his hands." Rathien's grin deepens a bit. "I'm afraid I don't know what the current price on your head is, it doesn't really matter anymore. As for dead or alive...well you should know better than anyone Tobias, none of my contracts come back alive."
-
<Yes my Prince. I will remain loyal to you, no matter how attached I may become to the many Andalites I set out to rescue.> He said. The fact that he had already rescued multiple Andalites, at least partially, had not gone unnoticed by him. He held an attraction to Efaen, and he did feel sympathy for theta's problem, but he would not betray his Prince. Above all else, his Prince was most important.
He dismissed himself, and followed after Theta. Upon entering the bar, he found an empty spot and kept an eye on all the occupants.
-
Ewa's eyes flicked over to Jasper's with mild surprise then back to Salem and the newcomer. He's worried certainly, probably shocked as well, but he doesn't seem panicked. And from what I've seen of him, he's probably in the habit of getting himself into unfriendly situations. The bar had also filled with even more people. She figured no one would risk getting violent with so many people to interfere.
"Trouble for you too?" she inquired. With a slight twitch of her lips she picked up her cowboy accent again. "Just 'cause he looks to have himself in a mite of a spot don't mean he want no interferin' in his business. 'Course, there's no need to mind that if you got your own interests to protect."
She looks back at Jasper and drops the accent. "He's walking around like that with no idea of what a cowboy is. He's either grossly incompetent, or prone to getting involved in things he doesn't understand. No offense, if he's your friend, but I imagine he'd be rather high-maintenance."
Ewa felt rather smug about managing the slight to both Salem and his actor--who was probably the more deserving of it. Not supposed to speak out of character though.
-
Myitt shrugs, dropping her arms to her side. "Paranoia saves lives," she says flatly. "But in this particular case it was a bit more than paranoia that led to your untimely demise, if you want to know. You had become aware of the presence of our current base of operations. Tell me, Zorish Three-Five-Eight, is a rather large promotion not an adequate use of your time?"
-
"Trouble for you too?" she inquired.
"No, I wouldn't say so..." Sapttus said between sentences. With a slight twitch of her lips she picked up her cowboy accent again. "Just 'cause he looks to have himself in a mite of a spot don't mean he want no interferin' in his business. 'Course, there's no need to mind that if you got your own interests to protect."
<<She's rather blunt with her views, isn't she.>>
<<I'd say so...>>
She looks back at Jasper and drops the accent. "He's walking around like that with no idea of what a cowboy is. He's either grossly incompetent, or prone to getting involved in things he doesn't understand. No offense, if he's your friend, but I imagine he'd be rather high-maintenance."
Jasper grinned at the cowboy comment. "I think I agree with you there, at least partly. He may, *sorta*, look the part, but he ain't no cowboy. Now I'll admit, I'm not any "loud 'n proud" Texan myself, but I know one when I see them. Either way, I hope he's fine. It would be.. uh.. very upsetting."
They look behind them again, this time noticing Al by the jukebox.
<<Hey, look. There's Al. Think we should go say something?>>
<<No... no... let's let them handle things. We don't want to get in the way or make things worse.>>
<<.. you aren't worried?>> Jasper asks.
<<I feel like a moron for being so worried right now. I've known that human for less than two hours and I'm so invested in his well-being. Something bothers me about this.>>
<<So... what are we going to do about it?>>
-
|THETA-PI
Theta scanned the piano which was playing by itself. The scan revealed somethig...odd about the piano. He decided to leave it alone. He walked into the middle of the room and stood there with his eyes closed, taking in the voices. So many voices. It was calming to Theta. He wasnt alone. There were people all around. He olcould not hear their thought bt at least he could hear their voices...
-
Zorish smiles thinly. "Perhaps," he says. "Although I've found that progression within the ranks of the Empire requires certain...compromis es that I am not entirely willing to make. I am content with being a Sub-Visser. I am proficient at my job and I do not need to make decisions that bring harm to others. Who is to say that I would want a promotion that would only create more responsibility? You seem to think that all Imperial Yeerks are the same, seeking only advancement and the annihilation of innocent beings." He sniffs in disdain, "If you truly think that is all we are, then it is no wonder you hate us so."
<Yes,> Efaen says dryly. <I do see. A shame, really. I would prefer to avoid Corliss if possible. He is a particularly volatile Yeerk, and his affection for Terenia is bothersome. I am certain that he cares very little for my own desire to join the rebellion, short of attempting to convince me to let that foolish human reside in my head again.>
-
<<Wow, this chick's really good at laying on the guilt,>> Tara mutters.
Myitt allows Zorish a conceding nod. "Quite understandable, of course," she says. "However, I am assuming you've read my file. I was an Imperial Yeerk, as well, and a loyal one for many years. I don't hate my own people, Zorish, and even your death was...or will be...a matter of saving lives, at least, from my perspective." She shrugs again. "It's nothing personal."
-
"Nothing personal?" Zorish hisses, his smile fading, exchanged for a look of fury. "Somehow I have a feeling you would view it a bit differently if it was your death we were chatting about so amiably, traitor." He takes a deep breath, forcing his expression to smooth. Tamora didn't like it when Zorish became angry.
"I want to know all of the detailed circumstances of my death," Zorish says briskly, turning on his Sub-Visser voice, once he has calmed himself down. "And if you have any way of contacting the murderer of Tamora...of my host - a human who goes by the name of Terenia - I want that information as well."
-
"I've told you, I don't know where Terenia is," Corliss butts in irritably. "And you can't expect my brother to just happen to know where every acquaintance of hers is at all times!"
Myitt tilts her head curiously. "Oh, I'm sure I'd be upset, but really Zorish, this is a war," she says calmly. "People die in wars. I don't understand how knowing the details of your death will comfort you. Perhaps you should heed the human saying, to 'live for the moment'? Carpe diem, hmm?"
-
"Sir," Serid murmurs, stepping forward towards Ossanlin. He hesitates, glancing at Claxter's retreating form, and then says, "I would like to thank you for your continued willingness to attempt to assist me. You are compassionate, sir, and for that I am grateful."
He spreads his hands, palm up, a gesture picked up from Illim, who had controlled quite a number of humans before him. "Please let me know how I may be of service in the meantime."
"I won't refute it," Illim smirks at Efaen and then shrugs. "Look, uh, from what I've seen, Efaen, you're not exactly working hard to ingratiate yourself with your future home, if that's what it ends up being. Is it any surprise that no one seems to hold any love toward you? You're acting as Yeerks so often expect Andalites to act. My guess is they're hoping for someone a bit more... open-minded when an Andalite announces her intentions to join them."
-
Suddenly, Ogreon backed off from the offer. Van blinked, confused, when he noticed that the Clangst was looking at someone who had just entered the Bar. The individual was bizarre, to say in the least. He looked somewhat similar to the centaur-like Argraavi race, from the desolate ice planet Sekhor. Van remembered seeing others a little like the newcomer, blue-furred with four eyes and deadly-looking tails, but this new guy sported heavy cybernetic enhancements.
It intrigued Van, and made him think of guys he knew back home with rather unfortunate personal histories. Outlaws who barely survived, were it not for the help of mechanical replacement parts. It was kind of a pirate thing, really. Once you got your arm blown off, you replaced it, plain and simple.
But, Ogreon had a fearful reaction to this newcomer; something wasn't right. Sensing the disturbance, Van quipped, "So, I guess that was the no, then? No prah-blem!"
The newcomer displayed an interest in a bizarre wooden object in the corner. It seemed to be... making music? Van was curious. Though the new guy walked away, the Pirate couldn't help but walk over to it.
"Mmm, so, haow does the instrument-nyah work, mm chaa?"
-
"And I was not asking you," Zorish says flatly to Corliss. "The human was right about you; you run on a particularly short fuze." He glances at the man, unimpressed, "You'll forgive me if I do not entirely believe you."
Turning his attention back to Myitt his expression changes to a sneer. "I would find it easier to live for the moment if I was assured that I had many to look forward to. Even if my own safety was assured, there is that of my host to think of. I do not relish the idea of finding a new one as...amiable...as my current." He gestures to Tamora's body. "Besides, the information is clearly of no great loss to you. In your version of events I am already bits of dust. What harm is it to indulge the information?"
<And you suggest that I alter my behaviors to suit your expectations?> Efaen asks, looking affronted. <While I am at it would you prefer I assume human form? Or perhaps Hork-Bajir or Taxxon? Would that make you more comfortable with my presence?> She snorts derisively. <Yeerks may be masters of deceptions, but I am an Andalite. I will not hide who I am merely to make others feel more comfortable.>
-
<<For what it's worth, you can tell her I respect her honesty. Still a bit high strung, though. Don't tell her that last part.>> Derrel said.
Claxter saw that Zorish seems to be getting in a worse mood as the conversation went on. He kept a stalk eye on them, though he couldn't hear what they were saying. He didn't know if he should interrupt or not. He didn't like how Myitt had killed the Yeerk, not to mention how Tamora had died.
-
~Ossanlin~
<Kind words, aristh. I appreciate them, though I can be quite the opposite given certain situations. I do attempt to always have compassion though, it is the cornerstone to my philosophy. There are times when I must trade it in for ruthlessness...but that is not your concern.> Ossanlin smiles at the Andalite nothlit. Though still a sort of perversion of form, he seems much more natural than Theta. That particular being made him quite uncomfortable.
<Accompany me if you would. You have rejoined the military, you should be outfitted properly.> Ossanlin heads back to the Mirage again and commands the ramp to open, stepping into the ship and up into the small storage area. He begins opening and closing drawers, pulling out a standard Shredder with holster, the spare ARC, and a few other items.
-
Salem frowned as the mechanized Andalite walked away without responding. Maybe communication wasn't that creature's strong suit. He looked quickly around the bar, searching for any signs of whatever trap Rathien may have set for him. Illim and the female Andalite were speaking... either of them could be with the hunter. The mechanized Andalite might be, as well, but at the moment it seemed more dazed than threatening. Not that that meant much. Corliss and Zorish were communicating with someone, though at this angle, Salem couldn't tell who it was. He took a moment to roll his eyes- was there any way Corliss would have let Zorish contact the rebellion already? The Yeerk seemed more unpredictable all the time. Zorish might be here with Rathien. Ogreon and Van... and there, Jasper and Ewa seemed to be watching him. Was that what had set him on edge about her? Was she here to help bring him in?
He sighed and looked back at Rathien. The truth was that he didn't know any of the people at this bar well enough to trust them. Rathien might be alone, or he might have half the bar on his side. There was just no way to tell unless something happened. For now, he'd have to consider everyone here a potential enemy. Not that that was anything new to him.
He smirked, "I know you're in this business because you're a little crazy. Gotta love what you do, though, right? I have noticed," he said, switching to a tone that was mockingly ponderous, "that there tends to be a very high mortality rate among bounty hunters. I wonder if that's tied to the job somehow?" He grinned, "I wonder how much longer you can last, Rathien. It's not a career for the weak at heart."
Without hesitating, he turned to the bartender and ordered a Radonian Fyrquas for Rathien, then turned to the hunter, smirking again, "So what now? Do we just sit here until one of us kills the other, or did you want to take this outside?"
-
Illim grins. "My host," he says, leaning back against the bar, "says he respects your honesty. And I suppose I do, too. But you are just... horribly Andalite-esque, you know? I can't even figure why you want to join the rebellion, other than maybe to destroy them from the inside," he snorts, rolling his eyes.
Serid nods gratefully and lengthens his stride to walk alongside the War Prince. "Thank you, sir. I am grateful," he says.
Upon stepping up into the Mirage, Serid takes a long moment to survey his surroundings. It has been years... a decade... since he has seen the inside of an Andalite ship. "We have made some impressive strides in interstellar transport since I was first assigned to a Dome Ship," he murmurs, his dark eyes wide.
-
He certainly knows his source material. Ewa was pleasantly impressed with Jasper. I can't tell if he'd go so far as Van and allow himself to be injured, but that's a bit extreme anyways.
"You're a pacifist then? Since you're worried about someone not directly involved with you," she explained her question. "This doesn't seem like a very comfortable place to be a pacifist."
The exchanges between Zorish, Corliss and the communicator were getting sharper and Salem still looked on-edge. Maybe he did want help or something, she thought when she saw him looking back in their direction. He looks a little accusatory for that though. Maybe I really upset him earlier.
-
Claxter noticed Salem looking around, worried. With nothing else to do, he made his way over as best he could. <Is something bothering you, Salem? You seem uneasy for an easy going guy.>
-
"To be honest, Zorish, I fear more for my brother's safety and my own if you were to find out the circumstances of your death." Myitt sighs, glancing off-screen. "Corliss, please reassure this creature that she probably has quite a few long years left in her life? If she doesn't even know who Terenia is, I doubt there's an immediate danger."
Corliss shrugs. "She's probably right, you know. There's no way to judge it for sure, or, hell, even tell if you'll encounter the same fate now that you've been here."
-
The corners of Efaen's main eyes tighten at Illim's suggestion. <That is a rather bold assumption, Yeerk,> she says stiffly, leery of how close to the truth he is. <Do you not think your leader would take caution to keep someone he viewed as a threat as far away from his rebellion as possible?>
"So Terenia is important in some way?" Zorish asks, his eyes narrowing as he shifts his gaze between Myitt and Corliss. "Very well. Perhaps I will seek this person out. Maybe they can be somewhat more clear." He gives the two of them an appraising look. "I don't suppose I can hope for any assistance in locating him or her, can I?"
-
"Oh relax," Illim grins, waving a hand idly at her. "I wasn't assuming anything. I forget what a poor sense of humor Andalites have. A word of advice: you shouldn't take much of anything I take seriously."
He turns around toward the bar. "A beer, on him," he calls out, jabbing a thumb in the direction of Salem. The bartender stares at him unblinkingly until Illim shrugs, "What? He offered."
-
"Sorry," Myitt says, feigning sympathy. "I really, really don't know where that **** is, nor do I want to know."
Corliss gives the holoscreen image of his brother a sour look. "I'm afraid I can't help you much there, either," he mutters. "Like I've said. Several times."
-
"Fine," Zorish sneers. "Perhaps someone else at this trash pit will be able to assist me." He glares at Myitt, "I had hoped to find you more helpful, but all I can say following this conversation is that I find it unlikely that you successfully murdered any incarnation of myself. I would not put myself in a situation where you could shoot me outright, which means you would have had to outsmart me." He snorts derisively, turning away from the computer, "Frankly, I find that unlikely."
Zorish fixes Corliss with a cool gaze. "Thank you for your 'assistance', traitor. As promised, I will be of no further trouble to you. May I have my weapon?" He holds out his hand, a small, expectant smile on his face.
<Ah, I see,> Efaen says coldly. <You are one of those Yeerks that attempts to emulate human sarcasm. I must say that I had my share of human humor during my years of forced servitude.> She glances over at Corliss and Zorish, whose conversation seems to be devolving. <That human's physical appearance is unsettling,> she murmurs.
-
Corliss keeps his Dracon trained on Zorish, slowly handing the Sub-Visser his gun.
"Until next time," Myitt says with a little wave, cutting out the feed.
-
"'Attempts to emulate'? I think higher of myself than that," Illim grins at her, accepting the Corona from the bartender with a nod. "I'm pretty darn effective. Maybe you just don't recognize a witty Yeerk when you meet one."
His eyes track lazily to Zorish, and he considers him a moment before glancing back at Efaen. "Unsettling?" he murmurs. Corliss's words about a Terenia look-alike come back to him, and he watches Efaen with renewed interest. So how was this Andalite, or at least Terenia, connected to this person in the Bar?
-
Derrel began thinking back to an earlier time in the bar. Inside the Andakite ship. There was a girl that looked exactly like the Imperial's host. Bound on a table. He had released her. There was another, a twin, outside and acting angrily. <<I think I remember Terenia having a morph of that girl. I'm not sure of all the details, though. They are familiar with each other.>>
-
Zorish snatches back his weapon and reholsters it, taking a step away from Corliss. He doesn't speak another word to him, turning instead and leaning against the bar table. Glancing up and down it he notes a rather large array of species; some he is familiar with, and some he is not.
"Excuse me," he asks the counter at large, raising his voice so that it carries. "Could anyone help me locate someone by the name of Terenia?"
<Indeed,> Efaen says, a look of distaste crossing her face as the Yeerk asks about Terenia. <And now her demeanor is unsettling as well. I believe he is done speaking with Corliss, however, which means that our conversation is over.> She gives Illim a halting Andalite smile, backing away from the bar and making her way towards the British Controller.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin smiles a bit, holding out the holster belt with Shredder. <You should not think this craft typical, I have made some very specific modifications to it. It is quite unique. I believe that ARC's were officer-issue only back when you were originally an aristh. I am not good at approximating human age, but you may be near my own age. It is possible we were even in the academy at the same time. At any rate, once I have you approved for full service given your current body...you will officially posess the rank of Warrior. I'm sure your hardships living amongst an enemy-infested world have given you more field experience than most Tactical Officers. From now on I will refer to you as a Warrior and you may refer to yourself as such. ARC's are common issue for all Warrior ranks now.> Ossanlin smiles again, looking back at Serid with his main eyes, holding out his other hand with the ARC.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _____--
~Rathien~
Rathien ****s his head sideways a little, mocking a crestfallen look, downing the rest of his own ale. "I'm hurt Tobias...you think me insane?" He suddenly flashes to a grin, his fangs showing again. "Perhaps I am by your standards, but you must understand, you are by mine as well."
"Some are not skilled enough for The Hunt." Rathien pauses for a moment, looking at the drink the BT places in front of him. It's true that the drink could be poisonous, but there was an equal chance it was not...and his instinct was not warning him against it, so he takes a sip. "Back before my people became so disgustingly...gent ile...those that were skilled at The Hunt hunted, and those that were not did not. The greatest kill, berenilos, was difficult to fell, but it would provide meat for a clan for a standard month. Berenilos could destroy even the most-skilled Hunters, they were worthy prey. Even though Hunters would wake from the Dream while hunting berenilos, they continued to hunt...the threat of losing the Dream did nothing to diminish the clan's need for food you see." Rathien pauses and takes another swig of the strange drink before continuing. "There are those who hunt now that are not skilled...they should expect to wake from the Dream. I know where my skills lie, Tobias." Rathien runs his tongue over a fang again, a habit of his indicative of desire. "I am skilled enough to Hunt, senrin...and I have no fear of death. I may meet my berenilos some day, but until then, I will continue the Hunt, and enjoy every moment of it."
Rathien's grin turns into a smirk. "I wouldn't dream of fighting on your terms Tobias...your little avarin might be somewhere around here, and I wouldn't want a repeat of Lursa."
-
"I... wouldn't say a pacifist, really... I'm not a fighter, per say, but if the need arises.... You know, I'm uh, not really sure what am I. I normally avoid conflict, I guess is how I should answer...." Jasper looked perplexed. He really was debating how to label himself. He smiled just a bit at her last remark. "Yeah, I agree. 'Comfortable' isn't how I'd describe this place, either. At least not most of the time. So uh.. " He looks over his shoulder again. Salem was getting a drink now. That meant he should be alright... right?
<<I don't know what to do, dude...>>
<<Nothing. Just wait. We don't want to mess anything up.>>
<<... yeah... I do have an idea though...>>
Jasper concentrated, made the mental connection with the hologram projection device tucked away in his bag, and formed his image like Al had instructed. He made the same blue squiggle he'd played with before, and then reshaped it into a question mark in front of Al. It was a small projection, and hopefully, it wouldn't draw too much unwanted attention. Sapttus opened his eyes while Jasper focused, and continued his sentence that they'd dropped. "... mind if I ask why you're here? Like you said, this isn't the most comfortable place I've been to."
-
Illim raises his eyebrows as he sorts through the memories to which Derrel is drawing his attention. <<Interesting. As I'd guessed,>> he says to his host. At Efaen's retreat, he straightens from the bar, full bottle of beer still in his hand. <<Suppose we should watch them,>> he gives an internal sigh. <<Corliss probably wouldn't be too impressed if we let Efaen tell her Imperial lookalike where Terenia is.>>
Serid's chest slowly swells with pride, and he accepts the ARC with upturned palms. "Thank you, War Prince," he murmurs, bowing his head in as much of an Andalite show of deference as possible. "Perhaps sometime I will tell you of my adventures on Earth, but I fear nearly all of our people would see the circumstances dishonorable enough that they should never be shared." His lips hesitantly lift in a smile and he says, "But you, War Prince, are far different from the others. They would see me as nothing more than a disgraced vecol, someone to be pitied."
-
Corliss sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks around the room. He sidles onto a seat at the bar, glaring frustratedly at the comm link.
With Zorish so close by, it would be impossible to hail Terenia. <<So much for a quick getaway,>> he murmurs. He looks over at Illim, a few seats down, with a desperate shrug.
-
<<Yeah, if we want to keep someone from telling Zorish where Terenia is, we would need to watch them. I doubt Claxter would hesitate to talk either. Hopefully Zorish won't start yelling to the crowd and asking everyone at the same time. Best thing to do would be leave now.>>
-
<Corliss,> Efaen says, approaching the Yeerk cautiously. She keeps a wary eye on Zorish, who is looking increasingly frustrated by the lack of response. She isn't sure who he is or how he got to this bar, but his presence both makes her uneasy and provides an interesting opportunity for her. She shakes the dilemma off, saving it for another time. Currently she has more pressing matters to deal with.
<Corliss,> she repeats. <If you capable of restraining yourself I would like to speak to you regarding my return to the rebel base.> She attempts to keep her voice as even as possible, but disdain leaks through regardless.
<<What now?>> Tamora asks. Zorish can sense her nervousness as he looks around the room, trying to find someone else who can help.
<<Perhaps we should first seek out more information regarding this person,>> Zorish says.
<<What do we need to know about her?>>
<<Well, as of right now all we know is that she is a human female,>> Zorish responds dryly. <<Anything more would be to our advantage at this point.>>
Zorish clucks his tongue in irritation, unsure of how he should proceed. <<The original communication came from an Andalite,>> he says at last. <<Perhaps one of the Andalites here can be of assistance.>> A quick count reveals three Andalites in the bar. One, the female, has taken up his place conversing with Corliss. The other hardly looks Andalite at all; clearly a victim of some foolish, failed experiment. His lip curls in disgust at the typical Andalite arrogance the creature represents. That left the third; a young male who appeared to be trying to engage Salem - who looked otherwise occupied - in conversation.
Pushing away from the bar counter, Zorish skirts around Corliss and the Andalite female. Keeping a nervous hand on his weapon he approaches the young male.
"Andalite," he says as amiably as he is able, forcing his expression into neutrality. "Might I have a word?"
-
Claxter was a little surprised that Zorish had come to talk to him, but he didn't reject her. The other Zorish hadn't been too intolerable. <Sub-Visser Zorish and Tamora, I presume? I am Warrior Claxter Karmesh Sinopul. Welcome back.> He said, though he knew this version hadn't actually been here as far as he knew. <You may speak.>
-
"... mind if I ask why you're here? Like you said, this isn't the most comfortable place I've been to."
Ewa shrugged casually, but felt a twinge of unease. She still didn't know who she had been sent to replace, or even if she was meant to replace anyone. Whatever plot this place had was still too diffuse for her to find any missing roles. Still, it would be incredibly shameful to admit she had not entered this scape well-prepared--even if it wasn't her own fault. Of course the only way they'll be able to tell is if there I am supposed to be a specific and well-known person, which doesn't seem likely.
"I don't know yet, but I've only been here a few hours," she replies thoughtfully. "I think I'll be able to recognize it if I watch carefully. What is it you're here for?"
-
|OGREON
Ogreon watched as Van walked towards the Piano, past the cyborg.
"Van! Don't go that way!", he yelled.
The yell got the attention of the Alvie unit.
"Oh dear Ghad help...", Ogreon whispered again.
|THETA-PI
Theta took note of the arthropod-like creature yelling to a humanoid. Although Theta was used to all the voices, he was not used to a loud call, louder than all the others. It caught him by surprise.
<You. Please attempt to keep your voice lower. We are concentrating.>
Theta went back to his deliberation.
Ogreon continued to stare, frozen in terror, at the being. Theta continued to ignore him.
-
Claxter looked around with his stalk eyes while keeping his main eyes on Zorish. Someone had shouted, but he didn't see anything out of place. He hand drifted to his shredder. Someone seemed to be moving towards the area where a strange sort of table was, but he saw no danger there. <What brought to to the bar anyway, Sub-Visser?>
-
Zorish's face settles into a small smile at Claxter's words. <<Welcome 'back',>> he repeats, explaining for Tamora's benefit. <<I assume that means that this Warrior had dealings with this other version of ourselves.>>
"I am searching for someone, Andalite," Zorish says, giving Claxter's tail a leery glance before going on. "Two someone's actually, but one I have already spoken to and seems a bit out of reach at present. Do you happen to know a human female that goes by the name of Terenia?"
-
<Yes I am.> Claxter said. He wondered if this Zorish had come to pick her up. was she from the same time as Terenia? Either way, it wasn't the correct Terenia for Zorish to be taking back to Visser Three. <She is currently on a ship belonging to Corliss. He is enamoured with her.> He spared a stalk eye for Efaen. If Zorish was looking for Terenia, why ignore her former host? <The Terenia I am talking about, though, is from a different universe and possible timeline.>
-
Salem smiled icily and turned to Claxter when he approached, "No problems here, Warrior. Old friend and I just having a chat."
There was a slight beep from his pocket, indicating that the transmission from Corliss's communicator had ended- his ship had monitored it, but still hadn't cracked the encryption. Then Zorish was there, yelling about needing help finding Terenia. For a moment, Salem considered helping- things had seemed to be going well with Zorish, and an imperial Yeerk might be far more helpful to him than Corliss had been so far. Salem would just have to make sure he didn't give the Yeerks anything that would turn the tide of the war in their favor. Not for the first time, he wondered if he'd chosen the wrong side in this fight.
Not that it mattered at the moment. He didn't know where Terenia could have gotten to, and he couldn't afford to let his guard down with Rathien around. Normally, when beings were there to kill Salem, they were either shooting or holding him at gunpoint. Those situations he could handle. Rathien seemed to want nothing more than to chat about his culture, and his love of the hunt, and it was making Salem very uneasy. Could he shoot the hunter while he was speaking?
The drink that the bartender set in front of Rathien came in a tall, clear mug. The liquid inside was clear, and slightly cloudy. Every once in a while, what looked like condensation would form on the outside of the mug, in shades of blue and green, but would evaporate quickly. The drink was sweet and tangy, with just a touch of bitterness. It contained a depressant similar to alcohol, as well as a mild stimulant. Depending on how much was drunk, and the person drinking, one could feel anything from a slight boost in confidence to a sense of invincibility. It had been one of Salem's favorites since childhood- if he was going to buy a drink for Rathien, he figured it might as well be something from his universe back home.
He breathed deeply and relaxed a bit, leaning against the bar. If he could keep his cool, he might just get out of this one alive. If I get the chance, I'm making sure you're dead this time, Ildari, he thought, looking at Rathien with a smirk.
When Rathien refused to 'fight on his terms,' Salem grinned, "Probably a good decision, hunter. I guess I can't fault your pattern recognition. So," he folded his arms across his chest, "you're living life just to live life. Hunting just to hunt. I suppose I can't fault you for that." He tilted his head and looked into Rathien's eyes, "It's a shame you're so adamant about killing me. Since the Andalites sold me out, I could really use someone like you. I get the feeling you'd relish the job I have." Rathien, Keshin, Thienal... Amiya, Geris... if I could get all of them on a team, I'd have no trouble with Jamil, he thought with a smirk. If only I were the one in charge of the universe...
Al did his best to watch Rathien and Salem without making it look like he was watching them. Suddenly, there in the air before him, there was a hovering blue question mark. He chuckled slightly and looked over at Jasper. After a moment, he walked over.
"You're getting good with that thing," he said brightly. "What's up?"
He then turned to Ewa and held out his hand, still smiling warmly, "Hey, I'm Al. Pleased to meet you."
-
Suddenly, Ogreon yelled, "Van! Don't go that way!"
The Clangst's loud voice certainly made him jump, but Van quickly recovered and waved his arm in dismissal. He was fairly used to dangerous situations, and thus felt perfectly prepared to approach this bizarre, wooden, music-playing box bigger than he was.
The Pirate stopped his approach momentarily, and reached down to his thick, metal belt. He unfolded a metal strap from the front, which he threw over his left shoulder. Then he reached back, and clicked the other end of it into place on the back of his belt. Then, he flipped open another plate on his belt and pulled out a glowing blue card.
It was a solid storage unit, based on Thyllian matter conversion technology. It could hold only one thing in it, but that was precisely why he had multiple cards with him. This one, however, held Van's rifle. It was a fairly elegant weapon, known properly as a Salmarian Field Rifle, Model Dalask-4.
This model, however, was somewhat uncommon, and suffered a short production run as its popularity dropped. This was because its long barrel was made to give more reach to use the attached heat-bayonet at the end of the rifle. By the time the gun was in production, heat bayonets fell into disuse as cheaply made import weapons and common stun grenades grew more popular with Salmarian hunters.
The rifle, however, became a popular weapon among space pirates, and what few rifles were made ended up being snatched up by the black market. Though it was a little primitive and outdated for an energy weapon, ammunition was cheap and easy to manufacture. The gun had excellent range, and the heat bayonet was especially useful for tearing foes to shreds. The weapon was also near-indestructible, at least from Van's personal experience using it, and he wouldn't have traded it for anything else.
Van tapped the storage card, and then pulled it apart. He pulled out his rifle, as if it was coming in through a small tear in space. The Pirate admired his weapon for a few moments, adjusted and activated the bayonet, and then flipped out another card and pressed it into the side of the gun, loading it with energy rounds. He took aim at the Piano momentarily, then lowered the gun, and approached it cautiously.
Van's more aural senses perked up as he came closer, and he grinned. Ogreon was definitely right about staying away from this thing, and excitement coursed through his body. The Piano was definitely dangerous, and as he came closer, its music began to increase in tempo. Van's adrenaline pumped faster. Crazy things like this were the spice of his life.
"Aww yeah, bay-bee. Keep dancing for me, I got the ready," he crooned.
-
"I had presumed as much," Zorish says briskly. "It seems she was caught up in the murder of my host; clearly, a different version of my host than the one you see."
He glances back towards Corliss, a look of cold fury passing his features briefly. "So the Yeerk is protecting a human that he has...romantic feelings for?" Zorish is unable to hide his disgust at the thought; temporarily it overrides even his repulsion at speaking to an Andalite. "I find that hard to believe, Andalite. Yeerks and humans love in very different ways." He shakes himself, as though trying to physically remove the thought from him. "I would prefer not to speak to Corliss again if I can avoid it. He has proven himself...less than trustworthy. If this Terenia person is aboard his ship she can, presumably, respond to a hail. Do you have the frequency to contact his vessel?"
-
~Ossanlin~
<You are still functional and able to perform duties aboard-ship. I see no reason not to exploit your potential.> Ossanlin reaches his now-free hand back to the storage drawers and pulls out an extra transponder. He auto-detects his own signal and then auto-detects Serid's new unit with his own, and then holds that out as well.
<The ARC, in case you're unfamiliar with it, is a powerful handheld computing device, not wholly unlike a Yeerk cube computer. It functions very similarly to the larger tactical units that you would've trained with at the Academy. It can give you similar information as well. It can be a very useful tool. It also contains a z-space transponder, so should something happen to your communicator, it can function as a backup. The utility belt I gave you with the holster should also have vacancies for this equipment. I do have rations and emergency medical supplies as well but I'm afraid they wouldn't do you much good in your current body. They are appropriately dosed for adult Andalites, and the rations are grass-based of course, neither would be healthy for your human form.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____-
~Rathien~
Rathien chuckles as Salem speaks, ready to dismiss the prey's conversation as a tactic. But then...why had his instinct told him to come in for a drink? Rathien never revealed himself until the moments before he struck, and sometimes not even then. His instinct was never wrong...why had he merely had a conversation with his prey? It was keeping him off-balance from the look in his eyes, but Rathien had though it was merely leading to The Kill. Was there more to it?
Without warning Rathien sets down his drink and flicks his right-hand wrist, a straight blade flipping into his hand from up his sleeve. The arm motion carries the tip of the blade within a hairsbreadth of Salem's neck but continues on around until the blade reaches the nails of Rathien's left hand. He proceeds to manicure them tediously. "You suggest a more challenging hunt than yourself?" His tone containing a bit of mockery.
-
Claxter nodded in acknowledgement to Salem, and turned his attention once again to Zorish. <I could attempt it.> He said, pulling out his comunicator. <I'm not sure she'll take a hail unless she knows it's from Corliss. I don't pretend to understand their relationship.> While he talks, he performs the communication attempt. He manages to reach Corliss' ship, and waits for a response.
He saw the alien next to Salem draw a blade. He had the look of a predator, and made Claxter's tail twitch slightly with nervousness. He happened to be within strike range, though, so Claxter was relatively safe. He didn't say anything about it.
-
Corliss looks up at Efaen, straightening himself at his seat at the bar.
"I believe I'll be able to restrain myself, if you'll cooperate," he says, bristling.
Before she can reply, the comm link in his hand starts beeping incessantly. Corliss looks down at the flat little panel, frustrated.
"An Andalite signal?" he says, frowning. "Excuse me, Efaen." He answers the hail. "Yes? Who is this?" Blinking in surprise, he looks across the room at the spot where Mike's voice echoes.
Where Claxter stands, holding a link.
-
Serid turns the Andalite device over in his hands, inspecting it. "Yes, very useful. Thank you, sir." He fits it to its home in his new holster, which he fits to his waist. He tightens it with a sharp tug to the end.
"I suppose provisions for humans are highly uncommon within the military still," he says with a small smile. "Perhaps I can arrange with the owner of the restaurant on this asteroid to provide with ample food to reach the next human food-carrying destination. For how long do you think I will need to see to my own nutrition?" he asks, glancing curiously at the storage area from which Ossanlin has come.
-
<Oh, hello Corliss. I was actually attempting to hail your ship instead of you. I either got both, or it chose your communicator first. Zorish wants to talk to Terenia.> He faced Corliss with his main eyes instead of looking at the comm. He pressed some keys to have his device prioritize on a ship's computer instead of just the nearest comm link.
-
"Ewa," she introduced herself, taking Al's hand and smiling. "Nice suit. Should I congratulate you on something?"
She was also curious about what he thought Jasper was getting good at, but her attention was caught by something over Al's shoulder--namely Van suddenly taking a huge gun out of nowhere and stalking towards the piano. What the....?
"That's not how you guys usually approach a piano here, is it?" She kept in incredulity in her expression low, just in case it was. Maybe this is supposed to be a comedy.....
-
Ewa shrugged casually, but felt a twinge of unease. "I don't know yet, but I've only been here a few hours," she replies thoughtfully. "I think I'll be able to recognize it if I watch carefully. What is it you're here for?"
That was an interesting response... maybe she was just a traveler by trade or something to that affect.
<<She doesn't know why she's here? That sounds... poetic, almost. Is that the right word?>> Jasper said.
<<I believe so, though with you humans horrible deranged language, how should I know?>>
<<I have to agree with you there.>>
<<Perhaps she comes from a culture that looks to destiny as a force that guides their lives, rather than as something what you make of it.>>
<<That sounds reasonable... and.. it sounds like something from some book I read or something. Again, poetic.>>
"That sounds... poetic." Sapttus replied.
<<Hey! That was my word!>>
<<Then you should have spoken up faster.>>
"You came here with the intent of finding out why after arriving? I feel like I might be intruding, but what inspired you to come here, of all places? And, to answer myself, I'm here on an 'extended vacation' you could say. Our previous living situation was... undesirable at best." Sapttus said. He didn't want to give away too many specifics, so he kept to the general basics. "I haven't decided yet if this is my final destination or simply a rest stop yet, however. It certainly has been an interesting visit so far. Particularly for a first-time space-farer like myself."
"You're getting good with that thing," he said brightly. "What's up?"
He then turned to Ewa and held out his hand, still smiling warmly, "Hey, I'm Al. Pleased to meet you."
Jasper smiled. "Thanks! I was uh... just wanted to let ya know that we're over here, in case you uh... needed anything." He said, looking pointedly at Salem and his 'friend'.
Jasper looked over at the piano area. "What the...? I ... have no clue... is he... stable?"
-
Salem reflexively jerked back when Rathien drew his blade. Now the hunter was obviously trying to be intimidating. This was more what Salem was used to. He grinned, feeling his usual high from this sort of situation start to kick in. The hunter wouldn't kill him here if he thought there was a chance of him exploding. He still wasn't sure what Rathien had planned by coming in here and revealing himself, but if Salem played this right, they would very much end up playing by his rules.
He noticed the weapon Van drew- and the way he drew it. He'd seen that type of storage before, but Van's technology might work differently than those he'd seen. If he could acquire it, he might be able to make improvements to his or to Van's, given time. He made a note to ask Van about it later.
He laughed, "I'm not suggesting anything. I can't be working with someone who will take whatever constitutes the 'perfect moment' in his head to stab me in the back. Though, yes, the project I have in mind would make hunting me look like child's play. Not that I have everything I need to go ahead yet." He sighed, yawned melodramatically, and leaned back against the bar so that he could see the whole room, and lowered his voice, leaning in closer to the Ildari hunter in a way that he hoped might make him uncomfortable, "Tell me, Rathien, have you ever thought about what it would take to hunt a member of the Andalite electorate?"
Al grinned, "A pleasure, Ewa. As for my attire, I managed to get my hands on very nice tuxedo. I figured that was enough of an occasion to dress up." His eyes flickered over to Salem and Rathien, but unless something happened, he wasn't going to get involved if he could help it. Their last encounter had left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He shook his head and said to Jasper, "Thanks. Not sure how much you can do, though. That guy is exceptionally dangerous. I'm just hoping Salem has a better idea of how to handle this than I do."
When Ewa pointed out Van approaching the piano, he ****ed his head and looked at him quizzically, "Maybe he comes from a planet with evil pianos?" he speculated with a wink at Ewa. He laughed, "I'm guessing that boy has no idea how to play that thing. Should we... like, help him out?" he asked Jasper and Ewa.
-
Ewa laughed.
"So long as this is not a planet with evil pianos. I'm sure someone in one of those universes has one, and I wouldn't be surprised if it ended up here. And to answer your question," she turned to Jasper, "I did not choose this place for myself. I'm pretty sure I'm doing a favor for someone who has no idea what they're doing." Someone who mixes Animorphs and Elves and bad cowboys and wouldn't object to some sort of evil piano.
Assured that the piano did NOT deserve to be queried at gunpoint she began to make her way toward Van. "Do either of you play?" she asked back over her shoulder. "I can only fake a little bit."
Almost, she was stupid enough to tap Van on the shoulder, but after taking a second look at the weapon she backed off a few paces. "Van, I don't know what you think that is, but you're making yourself look pretty ridiculous. It's a musical instrument. In fact, I rather expected a charmer like yourself might know how to play one." Though she began seriously, her voice ended on a slightly playful note. Don't want to sound too judgmental. There are so many strange things here, after all.
-
~Ossanlin~
<I'm afraid I'm uncertain as to how we will procure edible human suppliment aboard-ship. I may need to speak with Myitt about that. They have plenty of human-controllers in their midst, perhaps we could use the same supplier.> Ossanlin smiles a bit. <I think that's about all I have that would be usable at this point, Warrior. Hopefully someday I will be able to return your tail to you as well. Shall we adjourn to the establishment?> Ossanlin gestures down the entry ramp.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _____
~Rathien~
Rathien raises his eyebrows a bit as Salem speaks, still trimming his nails. "Of course you know I cannot guarantee that I will not destroy you. If I see The Kill, I will execute it...but I assume that working with you, if that is truly what my instinct tells me, would most-likely delay your demise."
Salem leans in and Rathien finished trimming his nails as the (loosely termed) human finished speaking. Rathien flips the knife up in his hand, barely pressing the tip into the point of Salem's chin. He looks directly at Salem's eyes displaying no discomfort whatsoever. He grins again, running his tongue over the same fang as before, speaking low and slow. "You shouldn't lean this closely to me senrin unless you want to kiss me. And you shouldn't kiss me unless you mean to follow through with the rest." Rathien pulls the knife away and lightly draws it, flat-side-down, against the top of Salem's thigh before flicking it back up his sleeve in the same fluid motion as if the contact had merely been incidental. "And I don't think Al would like sharing." Rathien's expression twists again at the mention of Al's name.
He retreats back into his own personal space, taking another draught from his glass, tone genial and haughty again as if the previous moments hadn't even happened. "As for hunting Andalites, I've Hunted and Killed a Prince before." He pulls the modified ARC from his belt and waves it at Salem. "He was even kind enough to give me a present." He replaces it in its pouch before continuing. "Andalites can be fun, but none have been as...creative...as you, Tobias." He smirks, taking another quick sip from his glass.
-
"Claxter," Corliss says as patiently as he can into the link, before exploding, "why the hell are you divulging information about my ship and its inhabitants to a Sub-Visser of the Yeerk Empire?"
Of course, at that point using the link is rather useless, as Corliss' voice can be heard quite clearly from across the room.
-
<Cooperate?> Efaen straightens her back, looking more than a little displeased by his choice of words. She is interrupted, then, by Corliss' comm link going off. She is surprised to hear Claxter on the other end, and her stalk eyes immediately pick him out of the crowd.
<<Claxter,>> she says quickly. <<That human you are talking to, do you have verification of her identity? I suspect that she is some time-altered version of Terenia or her deceased sister, but I need to know for certain.>>
Just then Corliss raises his voice so that it carries across the room. Efaen jumps in surprise, her tail twitching nervously. <Perhaps I should return when you are more in control of yourself, Corliss?>
Zorish's eyebrows shoot skyward at the exchange between Claxter and Corliss. He had hoped, upon discovering that Terenia was in the Yeerk's ship, to avoid an outright confrontation. Clearly this Andalite was unaware of the Yeerk technology that allowed one to forward communications from ships to personal links.
"I suppose I will not need your services after all, Andalite," Zorish says smoothly, taking a step back. "Unless you are capable of breaking into a Yeerk vessel, which I doubt, I will have to deal with the traitor personally." With a bit of an irritated sigh, Zorish unhooks his Dracon from his holster and pulls it out, holding the weapon loosely at his side. He can feel Tamora's unease at the possibility of violence, but he doesn't have time to soothe her.
"Traitor," Zorish says, walking back to Corliss and further interrupting his conversation with Efaen. He barely glances at the female Andalite. The look of disdain that he gives Corliss is pure Sub-Visser. "Why are you lying to me?"
-
<<Yes, she is the same.>> Claxter said to Efaen. <<He called terenia Human, though I'm not sure if their Terenia is the same as ours.
<<I'm afraid I have no hacking skills.>> He said to Zorish.
<I see no reason why not, Yeerk. I hold not affection towards you or Terenia. If anything, inconveniencing you is a tamer way of getting back at you for your lies and deceit than I'd actually like to do. My Prince still values your life, so really making you suffer is something I can't do without reprimand.> he put his communicator back. He didn't know if Terenia would answer or not, but he was interesting in seeing what Zorish might do.
-
"I am not concerned regarding the food," Serid nods, turning towards the ramp, walking out the door and onto the ground. "Surely we will find a supplier, or else some process of creating an adequate nutritional source for me on board. Human dietary needs are more complex than an Andalite's, but not drastically so." His back is straight, shoulders back, and he cannot seem to stop smiling, despite his usually dour expression. His promotion clearly has impacted his mood.
-
"Inconveniencing me?" Corliss snaps into the link, his voice still carrying across the room. "You'll inconvenience your whole bloody race if you keep chattering on to Imperial--"
He stops as Zorish approaches, cutting off the communication with Claxter and lowering the device. His expression doesn't need to change much to answer him.
"Oh, I do apologize, Sub-Visser," Corliss sneers, "but has it occurred to you that I might have a very good reason to lie to you about Terenia's whereabouts? One that you can't even understand, because you have the grave misfortune of walking in on your own bloody future?"
-
"I would prefer it if you didn't determine what I can and cannot understand," Zorish snaps back, his hand tightening around his weapon.
<<Zorish, don't shoot him...>> Tamora whimpers. Zorish does not respond, but he also does not raise his weapon.
"I have a vested interest in this human girl as well as your brother. My apologies if that inconveniences you, but we did not travel all this way to turn around just because you have some twisted attraction to a human!" The look of disgust is written clearly on his face. "Now will you assist me or will I be forced to act more forcefully?"
Efaen watches their exchange, taking in the information from Claxter that this is in fact an alternate version of Tamora. Or Tamora's Yeerk, it would seem. A slow smile spreads across her Andalite features as she realizes that Terenia, as of yet, is likely unaware of this newcomer's existence.
<If it is merely information regarding Terenia that you desire,> Efaen says to Zorish cooly, <I believe I can provide you with that much.> She gives Corliss a sidelong glance, <I am not hampered by a strange obsession with protecting that abomination.>
-
Corliss rolls his eyes. "Don't listen to her," he snaps. "Cracked, she is. She..." He hesitates. "She used to be Terenia's host, you see. Of course her opinion is biased against her."
He eyes Zorish's weapon cautiously before continuing, reluctantly. "If it means you won't seek the aid of this fool of an Andalite girl, then I'll tell you what you want to hear. But seeing as Terenia is lacking a host body, we can just as easily call her from my link. There is a poolside connection." He smiles. "You'll forgive me if I won't let you directly on board my own craft."
-
"Former host?" Zorish repeats, his cold fury replaced by confusion. "I was told that she was a human girl." He glances at Efaen, feeling strangely as though he has heard her thought-speak voice before.
"Call her," he snaps, pushing the recognition aside for later. "I am curious to know her role in the supposed death of my host."
Efaen's tail twitches testily when Corliss dismisses her. <Yes, call Terenia,> she says in a falsely sweet voice when Zorish is finished speaking. <I am sure she will be delighted.>
-
Corliss hesitates again, cursing internally for his poor choice of words.
"Fine, I will," he replies indignantly, pulling up the holoscreen and searching for his ship's pool communication system. "I'm sure she'll be quite happy to discuss this misunderstanding."
<<Nice save, mate,>> Mike says sarcastically.
Corliss ignores his host and hails the pool, frowning.
-
Zorish keeps his weapon out, pointed at the ground. His narrowed gaze is on Corliss' comm link, waiting intently for a response. Out of the corner of his eye he notices the Andalite looking smug.
<<Where have I heard that voice before?>> he muses as he waits.
On board the Skimmer, Terenia's idle searching through the pool's computer is interrupted by an incoming communication. Eagerly, she accepts the link.
<Corliss, is that you?> she asks, using thought-speak rather than the ultrasonic squeaks native to her Yeerk form. <Where the hell have you been!? I thought you'd abandoned me!>
-
"Uhm," he says, wincing at Zorish. "Talking to a dead person. You'd better brace yourself, love. She had a gun on me, and...I figure it can't hurt to have a chat." He swallows. "It's...it's Zorish. And...you know."
-
There is a long silence. Only the faint cackling of Corliss' comm link can be heard as Terenia says nothing.
<We appear to have surprised her,> Efaen says mildly, clearly enjoying herself.
<Zorish is dead, Corliss.> Terenia's flat voice comes across the comm at last. <So is...she.>
-
"You know as well as I do that this place can bring people from all times and places," he says slowly, eyeing Zorish again for any sign of recognition. Any sign that he, Corliss, should draw his own gun. "He's asking about a message he received about his death. How he could have received it..." He shakes his head. "Only the bar itself knows that."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods. <I'm sure we will be able to find a solution.> Ossanlin commands the ramp to close as both of them hit the ground, sealing it again to his thought-print. He makes his way toward the bar behind Serid noting the young Warrior's posture...in humans that posture was indicative of confidence. Good, perhaps he was still capable of helping people.
As they enter the bar, Ossanlin surveys the area. There were some new faces again. Two humanoid beings with pointed ears, how odd. An amphibious-looking creature and yet another humanoid with large eyes. There were the usual suspects, and he notes Efaen and Claxter are present. And Corliss. Engaged in conversation with...an Imperial?
<<Efaen, why are you consorting with......>> The thought dies mid-sentence as he takes another look at the controller wearing the fresh Imperial uniform. It couldn't possibly be.... <T...Tamora?!>
-
Claxter gravitated towards Corliss and the others as the conversation started. Morbid curiosity taking priority over his dislike of Corliss and his understandable distrust of the Imperial with her weapon drawn.
<<I think I hear something unpleasant going on, Illim.>> Derrel said. He couldn;t turn his head to look, though.
-
More silence, during which Zorish only stares at the comm link. There is something eerie about this Terenia's 'voice'. Something familiar, but not to him. To Tamora. From a long time ago.
<<What is it?>> he asks, but he can already see that she does not know.
Clearing his throat, he is about to speak in the comm link when a new thought-speak voice invades his consciousness. He jerks, looking for the source. A slight groan of frustration escapes Tamora's lips when he sees that yet another Andalite has entered the bar; this one far more formidable looking than the others. A War-Prince, at the least, surely.
"Tamora was the original owner of this body," Zorish says to Ossanlin dryly, his voice loud enough to be picked up by Corliss' comm. "You are addressing Zorish Three-Five-Eight, Sub-Visser of the Yeerk Empire. And who might you be, Andalite?"
<Corliss,> Terenia's voice is shaking with some combination of fear and fury. <Is this some kind of sick joke?>
-
"I wish it were, love," Corliss says quietly, looking from Zorish to Ossanlin and back.
He draws his own Dracon carefully with his left hand, keeping it at his side.
Just in case.
-
~Ossanlin~
<Zorish?! You're dead...both of you are dead...> For once Ossanlin is somewhat speechless. Tamora's death had been one of the heaviest wights on his conscience in a long time...to have her alive and basically thrown in his face takes a moment to sink in.
He shakes his head, still in a bit of a daze. <I am War-Prince Ossanlin-Rethin-Sephirel, Captain of the Dome Ship Tyrennian. And you...you're not the same people I witnessed dying are you?>
-
"That is exactly what I am attempting to figure out," Zorish says with a bland smile. "So you know me? Or knew me. Maybe you can be of assistance, then. After I speak with my host's murderer I should like to speak with you, War-Prince." He turns back to the Corliss, eying the comm link.
"Terenia," he says, voice becoming terse. "I want to know exactly why you decided to murder my host, and exactly how you managed to successfully separate her from myself."
There is no sound from the comm link. It is still clearly connected to the pool, but Terenia is evidently unwilling to offer or incapable of a response.
-
Salem put his hand to his chin where Rathien's knife had been. When he drew his hand away to look at it, there was a single drop of blood.
"Of course Al wouldn't mind. You'd be surprised by the stuff that android's into," he said, still smirking. "You know, if I didn't think you'd be such a bad customer, I could get you a real knife, and not that silly thing you're carrying around."
He kept an eye on the situation unfolding across the bar- Zorish, looking tense, and Corliss, looking... slightly deranged, if anything. The War Prince walked in. Salem wondered if he'd get a chance to speak with him before he ran off again. And now Corliss was drawing his weapon... Salem rolled his eyes. He was so very tempted to just shoot Corliss. The Yeerk was causing him nothing but trouble.
"If you're not capable of discussing matters professionally, I do have more important things to deal with." He turned and moved towards Illim, taking the seat next to him. Salem then swiveled his stool back to Rathien and grinned, "At some point you'll realize that you're in over your head chasing me."
Al laughed and walked over to Van, "If you like, though, I could give you some pointers on playing one. It's one of my favorite Earth instruments," he winked at Ewa again. "I even know a few techniques involving that gun, if you're interested." He never stopped paying attention to Salem and Rathien, but as an android, he didn't have to be looking at them to see them. Now would not be the time to start playing the piano. He didn't know if that might be enough for Rathien to spot him, but he wasn't about to take the chance. This paranoia... he wasn't used to having to live like this. It tended to be more Salem's thing.
"In the meantime, you've got to tell me where you got your clothes," he said to Van. "They're almost Geolizian, but more... well, humanoid." He looked over at Ewa and Jasper, and then indicated a table, "Let's all have a seat, yeah? I'm Al," he said, smiling brightly and holding out his hand for Van to shake.
-
"She didn't separate you from your host," Corliss says in an attempt to defend Terenia, keep her from having to speak, anything that would stop... "Your host was...damaged. It was a mercy, I swear to you."
-
"Damaged?" Zorish repeats, glancing at Corliss. "Beyond repair? That seems unlikely. As I already stated to your brother, I tend to avoid putting us in situations that could result in physical harm. Voluntary hosts such as Tamora are hard to come by; I hardly fancy searching for a new one."
Efaen snorts through her nose slits, giving Corliss a derisive look. <Your attempts to protect the human are pitiful, Yeerk,> she says. She smiles a cold Andalite smile as she turns to Zorish. <Yeerk, I do not know the details behind your own death, but your host was indeed brutally murdered by Terenia.>
"Fine," Zorish waves his hand dismissively, "That much has been verified by several sources so far. What I want to know is why."
<I need to see her,> Terenia's voice comes abruptly over the comm link, interrupting their conversation.
-
Corliss looks over at the link, surprised. "Terenia," he says warily, "are you...sure about this?"
-
<No,> Terenia snaps, irate. <I'm not sure. How the hell could I be sure about this? How could I ever be sure about seeing my sister alive not more than a few days after she was buried? I just need to see her anyways, alright!?>
"Sister?" Zorish repeats, tilting his head. He looks from Corliss to Efaen to Ossanlin. "What does she mean, 'sister'? Tamora has no sister."
-
Jasper shrugs. "Sure, why not?" He says. He realizes that he's still holding part of his sandwich in hand. He'd forgotten it was there while he was talking. He left the plate on the bar, made a slightly apologetic face at the barkeep, and turned to the table, munching the last bit of his sandwich as he did. He pulled out a seat, and started to sit down.
<<Shouldn't ...we let her sit first?>>
<< O...kay. Sure. Since when have you been Mr. Chivalry?>>
<<What? I like... hold doors and stuff. I'm just being polite, okay?>>
Sapttus smiled. He then realized that he was smiling in front of anyone for no apparent reason. With a bit of a flourish, he pulled out the seat he was about to sit in and held his hand over it, showing Ms. Ewa her seat. "After you, ma'am."
-
Sitting down did seem like a good idea to Ewa. On the other side of the bar, Corliss and Zorish were shouting. A female Andalite was involved and more and more people seemed to be interested. So was Ewa, but Corliss still had his weapon drawn and she nothing about the situation. This way we can stop Van from shooting the piano, make ourselves smaller targets, and I'll have three people to tell me what's going on.
Leaving a small, encouraging smile for Van, Ewa moved over to the table Al had claimed. Jasper had almost sat down, but then stood with a grin unfurling across his face.
With a bit of a flourish, he pulled out the seat he was about to sit in and held his hand over it, showing Ms. Ewa her seat. "After you, ma'am."
Ewa laughed. "Why, thank you Sir." She stepped over and, after a brief glance to assure herself that there was not some kind of practical joke in wait, accepted the chair. "I should have guessed a Texan would upstage a man in a tux."
-
<If I may, Zorish, you were separated from your host after capture when another Human willingly took you into his head. We had brought him aboard because he knew too much about something else that was going on, and made a temporary alliance with you. There was quite a bit of passing from Human to Human, actually, and you found out things about the rebellion that Myitt felt was too much of a risk for just a memory wipe. She killed you via Kandrona leeching. The only damage I could see Tamora being in would be having a voluntary relationship with an Imperial. It's a complex story, really.>
-
Serid follows Ossanlin into the building, stopping in the doorway to survey the situation. He spots Illim immediately, but his eyes track to Claxter, who is speaking directly to, it appears, an Imperial. One that Ossanlin recognizes. At the mention of "rebellion" and "Myitt," he steps forward, his eyebrows drawing down.
<<Warrior, are you divulging rebellion information to an individual within the Empire?>> he asks Claxter with another quick glance to Illim. His thought-speak tone is urgent.
He should not care, he thinks, about Illim's wellbeing, but he was indebted to the Yeerk for rescuing him. Besides, he was the first friend he had had since the Academy.
Illim is distracted from his close observation of what is happening around Corliss by Salem's intrusion. "Seems like you attract trouble," he mutters to the man. "That may not be the best for me, you know. I'm trying to keep my host and myself alive and well." He finally takes his first sip of beer.
<<Yeah, hopefully I can get around this Salem fellow if Corliss needs me.>>
-
"My Momma raised me right..." Jasper said.
<<Are... are you hitting on this girl?>>
<<What? No! I'm not... no! Geez, why can't a guy just be polite and all?>>
<<Jasper, do keep in mind that I am currently wrapped around every part of your brain. I ask you these things out of courtesy, even when I already know. It sure feels like you're being just ever-so-slightly too nice.>>
<<You're crazy, man.>>
Turning to Van, who was just that side of unnervingly unhuman, Sapttus took his turn being the gentleman. "I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting yet, sir...."
<<..are you sure it's a 'sir'? How can you tell.>>
<<It's an educated guess.>>
<<...works for me....>>
"My name is Jasper, nice to meet you." He felt slightly out of place uplaying all the formal etiquette like this, but nonetheless he followed through and held out his hand, hoping that shaking hands wasn't some horrible sign of offense to this fella. Er... he was pretty sure it was a 'fella'...
<<Oi...>>
-
Claxter was slightly surprised when Serid spoke to him with thought speech. He knew he probably shouldn't be surprised. Serid sounded like an Andalite name, and in this place one shouldn't just assume a Human looking creature is such.
<<I am only talking about Terenia. Not anything regarding the rebellion. This controller is an alternate universe version of someone who had close dealings with Terenia, and has come because he heard about his other universe's self dying somehow. I don't intend to compromize the rebellion, assuming not many rebels are like Corliss here.>>
-
No one seems to be answering Zorish's question, but it is becoming clear that the Andalite's are infinitely more useful than the Yeerks here. <<That's what I get for talking to traitors,>> he mutters.
"Corliss," he says curtly. "The girl says that she wishes to speak with me face to face. She is aboard your ship, so I expect you to be able to arrange this. Let me know when you are prepared to allow me access." He turns away from the comm link, which is projecting only static once more, and to the Andalites that have been most helpful. The female and the young male.
"You," he says to Claxter. "You seem to have detailed knowledge regarding my situation with Myitt. I would like to speak with you about it more thoroughly. And you-" he glances at Efaen "-seem to have information about this Terenia. If both of you would accompany me outside, we can speak in a less crowded setting."
Efaen's main eyes narrow slightly at the presumption that she will follow the Sub-Visser. <As intriguing as your situation may be, Yeerk, I have pressing matters of my own to deal with,> she says. <Your host and her sister are no longer a part of my life and I do not with to ingratiate myself in Terenia's problems ever again. Your mere existence led to years of servitude and torment and I am done with it.> She glances at Corliss. <I have my own business with the rebel Yeerk that needs tending to.>
"Very well," Zorish says with a shrug. He looks at Claxter, then Ossanlin. "War-Prince Ossanlin," he keeps the sneer from his voice best he can at the title. "I would be grateful for any information you could provide as well." He turns and begins walking towards the door, hoping that at least one of the Andalites will follow to a quieter area. The number of humans, Yeerks and Andalites surrounding Corliss was beginning to become unsettling. As he walks, he glances over his shoulder frequently, not trusting the Andalite's blades. His fingers curl tightly around his Dracon as he weaves around the tables and towards the door.
<<She said sister too,>> Tamora says. <<What are they talking about?>>
<<I do not know,>> Zorish snaps impatiently.
<<Teresa has been dead for over a decade,>> Tamora insists, her thoughts edged with panic.
<<I am aware, Tamora,>> Zorish sighs, pushing the bar door open and stepping out into the cool night air. <<I am familiar with your memories, if you'll recall.>>
-
Claxter hesitated to follow Zorish. He did, afterall, have a weapon in hand. Besides, would the information Claxter could give compromise the rebellion? Should he care? Well, with Efaen joining and his Prince having an ally there, it would be bad of him to endanger them. With a glance to his superior with a stalk eye, he started following Zorish outside.
-
<<Very well,>> Serid gives a small nod to Claxter, turning to watch him as he walks. His voice sounds doubtful. <<I, perhaps boldly, make a request that you not harm the rebellion, even accidentally. Ask yourself what you owe this Imperial; I do not know him, so perhaps a great deal, but I would be wary of siding with him over even someone like Corliss.>>
With that, he turns, moving slowly towards Illim's side of the room.
-
Salem smiled at Illim, "Not by choice, believe me. Trouble just seems to follow me around. I'll try to make sure it leaves you alone, though." He sighed, "Illim, I would still like to discuss a potential trade for Yeerk medical records. Tell me, what sort of thing would a Yeerk like you be interested in as an exchange?"
-
<<I will try. I don't really want to harm the rebels. In general, at least.>>
As he followed Zorish outside, he asked her a question. <I suppose you came here to try to ensure what happened to your counterpart doesn't happen to you? I suppose I could give you a piece of advice that will help.> He was beginning to wonder if he could do something to keep the other universe's Efaen from even being taken by the other Terenia. Even if it meant the other universe's Claxter never got to meet her.
-
"I seek information, not advice," Zorish says with an amused smile, holding the door open for the Andalite. "But I will not refuse either. You will forgive me, however, if I choose not to follow the instruction of an Andalite."
Letting the door swing shut he walks away from the bar, keeping a fair amount of distance between himself and Claxter. Surveying the ships in the yard, he wonders which one might belong to Corliss. "Tell me, Andalite, what is it you know? Myitt made it sound as if my death were merely circumstantial, the result of my stumbling upon more knowledge than she thought fit for me to possess. You, however, said that I was captured first." Her cold gray eyes turn to Claxter, studying him. "Why, Andalite? Why was I taken from my home, only to be murdered? And what 'advice' would the likes of you have for me?"
-
<I suppose Myitt and Corliss only want to tell you just enough to get you to leave. I probably should as well, though I do have a special reason for telling you what I want to say. It will not be for you personally, unsurprisingly. It will be for someone else. An alternate version of someone I have grown attached to.>
<It all comes down to someone named Terenia. In this dimension she is the twin sister of your alternate's host. I'm not sure if your host had a sister or not. If she does, I suppose you come from a time where you aren't aware that she's actually still alive. We were trying to help her get her sister back because she had failed. She was trying to get her sister to stop being a voluntary, but she had done something to make her sister hate her. I was on the mission to rescue your alternate's host. You were merely extra.>
<My advice to you is this. If your host once had a twin sister that disappeared, she will return. In order to escape Visser Three, she will be made to kill her brother and the Yeerk in his head. If you want to prevent your death, you should end her life.>
-
Corliss stares down at the link, which spews static until he finally cuts the feed. He is grateful for the distraction, the back of his neck prickling with sweat at the idea of explaining who Terenia is to Zorish and Tamora.
He puts the link away and turns to Claxter, eyes wide, while the Andalite blatantly divulges information on his brother Myitt's mission to the entire bar.
<<Remind me to kill him,>> he fumes internally to Mike.
Corliss doesn't even have time to reply to Zorish, before the Sub-Visser is torn away by another conversation with the foolish young Andalite. By the time Zorish has moved on to Ossanlin, Corliss' patience is at an end.
He slides off the chair and walks out of the bar without so much as a backwards glance, not even to Illim, finding to his irritation that Zorish and Claxter are heading outside as well.
"Excuse me," he mutters flatly as he weaves past them, making a bee line for the Skimmer.
-
"My host had a sister," Zorish admits, stepping aside as Corliss pushes past. He follows the Controller with his eyes, making a note of what direction he goes. "She died years ago, though. What you are talking about is impossible. Not just her existence, but the nature of it. Why would a band of rebels Yeerks and Andalites care about a human child's sibling?"
He shakes his head, eyes narrowing, "And Corliss said that the female Andalite was a former host of this Terenia person. If she truly is a human then that is impossible as well. Either you are lying to me or this bar promotes insanity." Scowling, he holsters his weapon. "Rest assured, Andalite, I will get to the bottom of this." He strides off, following the path Corliss had taken in the hopes of gaining access to his ship.
-
<She was guiven the ability to morph by an Andalite Aristh who wanted to flee the war. Believe me or not. You will meet her again. Perhaps you will remember my words.> Claxter said. He knew the story was pretty unbelievable. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it. How could he convince Zorish of the truth unless he saw it himself?
-
Corliss moves at a brisk pace through the husks of dead ships, glaring at the gravel. His Dracon is still clutched in his left hand.
<<Can't bloody believe this,>> he scowls. <<This place brings absolutely nothing but trouble.>>
<<Trouble, and Terenia,>> Mike sighs.
Corliss hesitates. <<Yes,>> he admits.
He stomps up to his crouched lobster-insect of a ship. "Computer, priority access, open exterior hatch," he calls. "Extend ramp."
Up he climbs, casting a wary glance behind him. His eyes widen as he spots Zorish some distance away.
"****," he says under his breath.
-
"I don't suppose you're interested in granting me entry?" Zorish says, stopping at the base of the Skimmer's ramp and folding his arms. He stares up at Corliss, a small smile on Tamora's face. "My previous position still stands; I have no intent on harming you, traitor or not. I only wish to speak to this 'Terenia' person. Where is she?" He attempts to peer past Corliss, into the ship.
Efaen sighs in exasperation when Corliss abruptly leaves. Her main eyes find Ossanlin, <<I am afraid it may be somewhat difficult receiving verification from the rebel leader regarding your terms,>> she says apologetically. <<Corliss is, if nothing else, entirely unstable. I only hope that he is not representative of the entire rebellion population.>>
-
"Medical records? What the heck for?" Illim frowns at Salem. "Not that I expect you to be even the least bit forthright about your reasons."
He shake his head. "I really can't imagine what I would--" Illim stops abruptly as Corliss turns away from the bar and heads out the door.
"Actually, friend," Illim raises his eyebrows, hardly focusing on Salem as he talks, "I need to follow Corliss. Make sure he doesn't leave me on this rock. Your wheeling and dealing'll have to wait." He stands from his stool, beer still in hand.
Serid frowns, watching Claxter and Zorish through a window in the Bar. His concern multiplies as Zorish walks away, and he shakes himself, asking himself why he is so worried about the fate of the rebellion. Illim is his friend, yes, but he is still a Yeerk, and there is no guarantee the other members of the rebellion are like him in ideology.
Still, he cannot help but believe the base to be potential allies to the Andalites.
-
Corliss turns and blocks the threshold, a hand on one hip and a Dracon in the other.
"I've already told you," he says, as patiently as he can. "Terenia is a Yeerk. The only way you're going to see her is in her natural state, and the only way she's going to talk to you is through the shipboard pool interface, unless you leave me alone and let me allow her to use my host." He smirks. "Unless of course you'd rather have proof that she is, indeed, a Yeerk."
-
Zorish snorts, waving Corliss off. "Very well, I can wait," he says. "If you're that shy about switching Yeerks." He looks Mike over, a small, cruel smile twisting his features. "I could, of course, assist you in restraining your host, if you require it."
-
Mar isn't completely certain why, but he finds himself drifting off into sleep. His body aches in places he doesn't like thinking about, especially considering his apparent age. When he wakes, he feels significantly better---but he also has no idea what's happened. The Yeerk called Zorish has just left the Bar. Mar narrowly manages to see Zorish pass the threshold with...the inexperienced Andalite youth? What in the world? Mar sits up and glances around the Bar sharply. There doesn't seem to be anything for him to do, but he loathes being poorly informed.
Mar glances about the Bar nervously for Elayne, anyone who could tell him if Zorish plans to be causing trouble, and a way to finalize his deal with Salem.
-
"No, thank you," says Corliss, his tone equally mocking, as he turns and shuts the hatch behind him.
He strides across the cabin and presses open the pool room door.
"Terenia," he calls, pressing his hands against the lip of the pool. "I'm going to have you switch with me. Alright? Zorish is waiting outside."
-
There is a moment or two of silence before Terenia answers, the quaver in her thought-speak evident. <Yeah. Okay, yeah. Sure.> She isn't exactly eager to infest Mike again, but her shock over Tamora's apparent presence here overrides her hesitance.
<Corliss?> Terenia asks. <Is it really her?>
-
He nods, even though she can't see him.
"Yeah," he says quietly. "Reckon it really is." Corliss looks around, then shrugs. "Here goes nothing, love. I'm coming in." He tilts Mike's head over the warm surface of the pool and begins to disengage.
In a few moments he splashes into the pool, and Mike takes a few seconds to collect himself, before pressing his ear against the water's surface.
-
Terenia hesitates when she feels the disturbance that indicates Corliss' entrance into the pool, wanting to speak to him alone after her long period of solitude.
<Corliss, I thought you had abandoned me,> she snaps at him accusingly. <Or that something had happened. I'm not staying here for that long again. I can't stand it.> She feels another disturbance - Mike's head breaking the surface of the pool water once again. She begins to scrunch-thrust in his direction, the Yeerk equivalent of turning her back on Corliss. Finding Mike's ear, she quickly enters. When she opens his eyes her uneasiness about taking control of him for a second - or was it third? - time disappears as she regains her sight.
"Oh..." she sighs in relief. She had beginning to think that the world outside the pool did not exist. Quickly she shuffles through Mike's memories of the last few hours, lingering on the image of Tamora, controlled by Zorish. "She really is here, then," she says in awe.
-
Van was surprised by Ewa's approach, but shrugged it off, bursting in a wide grin, "Play it? It seems to prefer playing itself, Ewa."
Van gestured at the piano, which behaved like a player piano. It played... Well, it was a rather jaunty rendition of "The Entertainer", a stock tune Van did recognize to a mild extent, problem was, it sounded... off to Van. Indescribably "off". Not off-key, or even terribly, it just sounded... strange. Perhaps that was because it was wildly changing tempo every 5 seconds.
"See, I ah, how do... My people have the, ah, sixth sense. But, it can become all over... all over... Mmm, all overwhelmed. Normally I'd notice you, for ex-ahmple."
He gestured at the piano with the rifle, and shrugged, "But this thing... it's... hungry, I think. I get a feeling that it's hungry. And it's got to be really hungry, because there is no way I would miss a girl like you behind me!"
But, before he could continue the approach, Ewa's acquaintance, a man calling himself Al, interrupted. "An Earth instrument? Where I am, hmm... Maybe I've seen one? Just not the one with the hunger and the wood. And ah! The clothes!"
Van grabbed and shook the tuxedoed man's hand firmly, "These! You want to know them? The shirt and the iru-yansak," Van began, pointing out the odd, armor-like band defining his waist, "Are native to my people, the Beryllians. I try and try to get away from the culture, but... Nothing else fits right. Feels right. The pants were made using the Replicator-nyah on Ogreon's ship. You know him?"
He wanted to continue, but Al had gestured towards a table nearby. The Pirate sat down, cautiously laid down the rifle, and gave the unnerving instrument one last glare before he turned around. It was then that Jasper introduced himself. Jasper was... hitting on Ewa. Making moves. Van raised an eyebrow at the man, "Huh. Men here have good taste, I see! To both of you, I'm Van Aldbaran. And you, Jasper... look familiar enough in a funny way. You have the look. That one, chaa."
-
Salem stood and watched, nonplussed as Illim made his way out the door.
"Wheeling and... is that really how I come across?" he muttered to himself. After a moment, he sighed. The Yeerk was obviously Corliss's lapdog, and he hadn't gotten anywhere by speaking with those who were here under Corliss's influence. Maybe the imperial would be more open to helping him out.
If Corliss and friends are indicative of the Rebellion overall, they won't be worth my time, he thought. Where'd Zorish get off to?
Al laughed when Ewa commented on his being "upstaged" by a Texan for chivalry. Normally, he'd change his image to him wearing a suit of armor and act as melodramatically chivalrous as possible- mostly towards Jasper or Van. He glanced over at Rathien, though, and changed his mind. Now was not the time to be giving away that he was an android.
Instead, he opted to pull out Jasper's chair, twirling it on one leg before setting it back down facing him and gesturing to it with a flourish, "After you, of course, good sir."
He turned to Van, "The look suits you, definitely." He smiled warmly, "Man, if you're looking for something really stylish, I could probably make you some Sparkle-Be-Good stuff you'd love. It's been a long time since I met someone who'd really appreciate that kind of fashion. I don't actually know who Ogreon is, but if he's a friend of yours, you should invite him over."
He waved the bartender over, ordered a drink, and grinned mischievously back at the table, "By the way, you guys want anything, my friend is paying, whether he likes it or not."
"So, a Beryllian and a Texan. Gotta say, I don't think I've met either one before. You both look very human." He winked at Ewa and said with a laugh, "Next you'll be telling me that you're not really human either, right?"
-
"Eh, baaaah. Only Half Beryllian. The rest is Human. It's the blonde in the hair, the blue in the eyes. Chicks dig it, the pure-bloods hate it. It is the sad truth."
Van mockingly sighs sadly, and then leans back a bit, relaxing a bit, "Nichaa, I'm down for more of the drinks. Maybe a few shots of whatever interests you all? Mmm, let's try Dalcasians. Or maybe Sparkling Daggers? It's not... not nearly as weird as it sounds, really! Speaking of... Sparkle-Be-Good."
Van nodded at Al, and continued, "I'll bet it has some of the colors in it, chaa?"
-
"Huh. Men here have good taste, I see! To both of you, I'm Van Aldbaran. And you, Jasper... look familiar enough in a funny way. You have the look. That one, chaa."
"Well, um... I.. I uh.. I was just being nice.... "
<<Told you that you were hitting on her.>>
<<I am not! It's called good manners, okay?!>>
Sapttus laughed. <<Whatever you want to call it, sure.>>
<<No, seriously!>>
<<Okay, let's put it this way... it *feels* like you're hitting on her from up here in your noggin.>>
<<Well, then, look harder. Or something.>>
"I can't say that I recollect meeting you before, Mr. ... Aldbaran." Sapttus began, still holding out his hand, and wondering if he was going to return the gesture.
<<We sure it's a 'he'?>>
<<Nope. I'm sure hoping so...>>
"Hopefully my look-alike leaves a good impression." He said with a smile. Then, Al pulled out his chair for him, with a bit of a theatrical finesse. "Well, thank you, sir." He said, taking a seat, and scooting himself up with minimal chair-leg-squeaking. "Um, sure, I'll just have a water, thanks. By the way, Al, I think I left his water bottle back on your ship. It's not urgent, of course, but I'd like to get it back sometime in the near future. Whenever it's good for you guys, though."
Al said something then that seemed to suggest that he didn't think that Jasper was human. He... thought Texan was it's own species?
<<Okay now, I know we have egos and all, but.... that's a bit of a stretch.>>
Sapttus just chuckled.
After Van finished speaking, Sapttus said, "Just to make sure you know, 'Texan' is a ... what's the word? Well, it means that I'm from the State of Texas. It's just a title, really. Not so much a species. Although... most of them *are* pretty far 'out there', if you know what I mean."
<<Hey now....>>
And, the only way to describe Jasper and Sapttus's shared response to the mention of "Sparkle-Be-Good" was a mentally-shared raised eyebrow. <<I don't even want to know....>> Jasper said.
-
Van finally shook Jasper's hand, "Heh, still wondering? I'm a he. I've let the hair down, chaa, but I'm a he. Can't be dishonest around Ewa, you see. I get this feeling she sees through everything."
Texan...the state of Texas... Not something I'm familiar with, though. But, like the fancy pants, Al, this guy's got some style. I just hope he isn't interested in Ewa. I may not be feeling super serious, but I need to get on with it!
"Hey, Ewa," Van nudged her a bit with a smile, "Care for a drink? Al says his buddy is paying, and maybe you'd like to get a taste of a Dalcasian? This is a Bar, after all. Can't go wrong with that one, although it's the hard mix to pin down. It's... something... Ah, spicy? Spiced in a flavorful bubbly way. Humans seem to recall the cinnamon or something like that, mmm chaa?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin continues to stare a moment before breaking his gaze. Imperial to the core, and a commanding one. He doesn't deign to answer her or her commands...if she truly wants what he knows, she can ask politely and be politely denied. He watches Claxter a moment before speaking. <<I would not advise going with the Imperial Claxter...you should not allow your personal feelings to....>> But Claxter was already out the door. He closes his eyes and sighs...this place was beyond insanity.
He looks at Efaen as she speaks. <<I know that Corliss is unstable. I want to trust him, I do, but he has shown me at every turn why I should not. He is not Myitt, that much is certain. I don't trust him any further than a tail-strike. As for my conditions, the manner in which you get them approved is not my concern, Warrior. You know the circumstances, excuses are not substutes for success.>>
Ossanlin trots to the bar and orders lightly mint-flavored water, setting the wide cup on the floor to drink a few stools down from the strange, point-eared humanoid.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Rathien~
Rathien chuckles at Salem's reaction. "Oh I don't know Tobias...they seem to work perfectly well, yes? Of course if I wanted anything from you , I could just end your Dream and..."inherit"...your inventory yes? I suppose I wouldn't be a very good customer indeed then, would I?"
The Ildari takes a long drink from his glass before continuing. "The Hunt is never a waste of time, senrin...if only you knew." Rathien fingers his entroper...was this it? No...no. But Rathien feels as though The Kill might be approaching. Of course the feeling could just as easily be for the opportunity to Hunt a member of the Andalite Electorate. Rathien wonders about the prospect. Yes he had killed a Prince...the being had been frustratingly forthright, demanding Rathien show himself in a fair fight. It would've been much safer to simply hit the being with an Entroper shot, but Rathien had indeed shown himself. It had been on a colony world, the Prince's ship had been on a stop-over for supplies. The Prince had been out for a feeding with two body-guards. The guards had both gone down before they knew that portions of their own bodies had been ripped apart at the molecular level. The Prince had not carried his own weapon out into the "safety" of the woods...an act of arrogance in Rathien's mind.
Oh Rathien could've simply shot the Prince, it would've been easy, but that wasn't The Kill. No...and the Prince had demanded that Rathien fight honorably. Rathien ha dropped from the treetops, holstered his own weapon, and drawn his fighting blades both the length of a short-sword. It had been an epic fight, parrying powerful tail-strikes while flowing gracefully around the blue being, a whirl of alloyed fury. Rathien had drawn blood at many times during the battle, but The Kill...Rathien savors the memory as he thinks on it. When he had intentionally allowed the Andalite's tail to graze his shoulder in order to slip through his defense and plunge a blade straight through one of his hearts. The second stab had been merciless, impaling a second vital heart. The glorious lifeblood fountaining from the Prince's dying body as Rathien ripped his ruthless blades free had been transcendent. Rathien salivates and licks at his fang again as he remembers executing fate's design that day.
This Electorate member would be different. Infiltrating the Andalite Homeworld would be much more difficult than merely landing on a colony world. He would be well-guarded and difficult to get close to. Though Rathien would never admit it, Salem's offer tempts him. He watches as the "human" tries to deal with his other companion, only to be left standing alone.
Rathien chuckles. "Looks like I'm the only one that wants to chat Tobias." He rotates his stool around to face Salem, leaning back against the bar. "No matter how much you try to escape me, fate keeps bringing us together senrin. Not everyone cares for your wares, hnn?" Rathien grins widely, his fangs clearly visible again.
-
Claxter returned to his Prince. <Prince Ossanlin. Do you approve of killing someone if you're sure it will save multiple other people you know, and an undetermined number of people you're unaware of?> He asked. Probably better to have asked before he went and warned Zorish about terenia, but what was done had been done. If that Efaen hadn't been captured, she could have used those five years for the betterment of her people, instead of the detriment.
-
Ewa can't help but laugh when Al offers Jasper a seat with an extravagant flourish. "Apologies, Mr Al. I see you're in fine form after all." Apparently most people here practice good manners if they aren't too busy shooting each other or blowing things up.
She was confused by Al's implication that she wasn't human though. My form is a bit more stylized than the rest of theirs, but my family is the standard when it comes to human portrayal. The couldn't NOT recognize it. But then Jasper broke in, fixing Al's assumption that a Texan was not human. Maybe he's new and really badly informed, she thought of Al. Or... "Aren't you also human, Mr Al?"
Van finally shook Jasper's hand, "Heh, still wondering? I'm a he. I've let the hair down, chaa, but I'm a he. Can't be dishonest around Ewa, you see. I get this feeling she sees through everything."
This made Ewa a little uncomfortable, since she was trying her best not to let them see through her ignorance, but she played along and let her lips twist into a small smile that seemed both knowing and self-deprecating. Her smile bloomed into an outright grin when Van offered to get her a drink on someone else's tab.
"That sounds good, and I would certainly be interested in trying something new, but just who is it that's paying for this?" Her eyes move back to Al with the question.
-
Corliss "watches", irritated and a little hurt, as Terenia rushes off. What did you expect? he thinks bitterly. You left her for ages, and show up with her dead sister. Not to mention the Imperial...
<<Yeah,>> Mike replies to the human girl inside his head. <<It appears she really, truly is. Don't ask me how, love. I'd keep the Dracon handy, if I were you. Just...just in case.>>
-
Terenia inhales deeply, still reeling slightly from the experience of having a body again after so long in the pool. "Yeah," she says, pulling Mike's Dracon. "Yeah, good idea." Her emotional response to Tamora's existence is obvious in the way Mike's throat closes tight, and the sweat that breaks out on his brow. <<And to think, ten minutes ago I was most worried about...well, never mind what I was worried about,>> she says quickly.
"Mike..." she whispers out loud, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm the tightening in Mike's chest. "What if I have to kill her again? I can't...I don't know if..." she shudders involuntarily, glancing down at Corliss' puny Yeerk self before walking jerkily towards the bridge.
Zorish leans against the hull of the Skimmer, folding his arms across his chest casually, waiting for Corliss to reappear.
<<Of course, I understand sir,>> Efaen murmurs, slightly put out by Ossanlin's curtness. Her stalks survey the room, but Corliss is gone, along with the Imperial. Sighing, she decides to remain at the bar for the moment. Zorish's presence makes her uncomfortable, and she would prefer to approach Corliss when he is in better spirits.
-
Salem sighed and looked back at Rathien, "Not everybody realizes what I can offer. Illim there just needs a little demonstration, is all." He rolled his eyes as he looked after the Yeerk. "Or a different crowd to follow," he muttered to himself.
"I don't believe in fate, hunter, and as for your concept of 'The Kill,' well..." he smirked, "you can keep that to yourself, for all I care. To each his own, right?"
He leaned up against the bar near Rathien, looking out at the tables. Al wasn't making himself known... good. He lowered his voice, "So why did you come in here? You of all people know that I wear explosives, so you can't kill me here. Your reaction times put me to shame, so I can't kill you. You've backed us into a stalemate here, Ildari. I've gotta figure you came in here because you want something... not sure if that means you want it from me. Still, I can't think of any other reason you'd follow me out here, and then just reveal yourself like this. There've gotta be others you're tracking lately, right? Or is business really that slow?"
He walked around Rathien and stood next to Ossanlin, trying to make sure to always keep an eye on the bounty hunter. Claxter was there, speaking with the War-Prince... and judging by the gaze and stance of the female and Ossanlin, he assumed they were thought-speaking privately. He'd gotten fairly good at picking up on that kind of thing during his years among the Andalites. Salem wondered if the War-Prince was ever not busy at this bar.
"War-Prince," he said to Ossanlin, performing the slight bow he used in lieu of lowering a tail blade, to show respect to higher-ranking officers. "When you get a minute, I was wondering... could I have a few words with you?"
He then turned back to Rathien with a grin, "If you're trying to set me on edge, you're doing a fantastic job. The problem, Rathien, is that I like it that way."
Al waited until Jasper'd taken his seat, then half walked, half danced his way to the other side of the table and took his own seat. He leaned back in his chair and set his legs on the table, his almost impossibly-polished black shoes shining in the light.
He smiled at Van, "Oh, yes they have some colors in them. And not just some of the colors. All of the colors. It's light, woven into a fabric. It's comfortable and soft and fabulous, and depending on the weave, it can make you the center of attention in every room. Not that you'd need help with that, Mr. Half-Beryllian," he said with a wink.
He turned to Jasper, "Water bottle? Let me see..." he closed his eyes for a moment. "Ah. Yep, it's on the ship. Rolled under one of the shelves." He opened his eyes and smiled, "Sorry, I didn't even see it before. Say the word and I'll grab it for you. And Texan..." he laughed, "wow, I was way off, wasn't I? So, your Texas... where is it? I may have been there, actually."
When Van described a Dalcasian, Al raised an eyebrow, "Oh, that sounds good. One of those for me, too," he said to the bartender. He looked at Ewa, "My friend's got the credit. I..." Rathien was still there, "should probably not point him out right now. He won't mind, I promise."
When Ewa asked if he was human, he laughed, "Not at all, I just look that way." Rathien... the hunter was cramping his style. Usually he'd just take this moment to drop his hologram and show her. Instead, he smiled, "Can't always believe your eyes, you know."
-
<<You won't have to kill her again,>> Mike grates, insisting. <<Even if she isn't from the same universe, I doubt a reasonable higher power would ask you to kill your sister twice in one lifetime. And if I'm wrong...well. so be it, but I doubt it, love.>>
He sends as much support and love as he can, through their mental connection, and gazes out through eyes that are not his to control.
-
Illim walks away from Salem before pivoting on his heel and grinning. "Thanks for the drink. We'll talk soon, maybe." Then he heads out the Bar door in the direction of Corliss's ship.
Elayne looks up from her table and spots Mar rousing from his nap. She stands, scooting her table back along the rough floor, and makes her way over to him.
"Are you alright?" she asks, frowning at his disoriented expression.
Serid watches Illim and Claxter's comings and goings a moment before settling, straight-backed, into a chair near the door from which he can keep Ossanlin and the other Andalites in his sight. Like Illim, he doesn't want to be left here when a new life has been promised him. I nshouldot be foolish, he tells himself. The War Prince made me a Warrior; he surely will not abandon me.
-
Al was fun. Jasper enjoyed his personality, which was an astonishing concept to him, considering he knew that he was just an android. But then.... "Just" an android probably was a really foolish thing to say. The fact that he could take inventory of the ship from here was way more impressive than he could handle. Jasper let out a whistle. "That's just too cool, Al." He said, shaking his head slightly. "Texas is on the south border of the United States, right above Mexico. At least... it is in my United States. I have no clue if or when you might have visited. It's a great place."
<<That's your ego talking.>>
<<Oh hush. You know I'm not as bad as Jeff is... I'm only.... marginally egotistical.>>
"Except for the heat. I'm not going to lie. Texas is hot. Waaay hot."
Jasper and Sapttus didn't comment on Ewa's question of Al's humanity. They didn't want to give anything away.
-
<<Yeah, you're right. It isn't even really them anyways. Not the version of them I knew...>> Terenia says, unconvinced. She mentally winces away from the support he sends. They only remind her that Mike and Corliss' feelings for her are yet another issue that needs resolving. Funny how that had been top on her list of worries not more than fifteen minutes ago. <<You guys are idiots, you know that, right?>> she mutters to him. <<If you still care about me after all this **** I've put you through, you're complete morons.>>
Terenia enters the bridge and looks at the hatch. She hesitates, torn between giving the command for it to open and running to the controls, taking off from the planetoid and leaving all of her problems in the dust.
"This isn't right," she says at last, exhaling slowly. "She shouldn't be here - can't be here. If we talk now...what if it messes up her timeline or something? What if it screws up my timeline? I don't know how this **** works - anything we do could destroy everything!" She lets out a growl of frustration, clenching the Dracon in her hand. Cursing, she abruptly pulls Corliss' comm and hails Ossanlin.
"Hey, oh-great-and-powerful Andalite with the magic tricks, mind picking up?" she hisses into the comm link.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin glances at Claxter again, taking a deep breath and savoring the cooling sensation running up his leg from the mint-water. <There are times, Warrior, when there are no good solutions, no good choices. In those situations, you must strive to make the better choice, the least of evils.> He pauses a moment and continues. <This is a war Warrior, and it is not pretty whether we like it or not. Choices must be made, and they are sometimes ruthless. People get hurt because of someone else's decision, and the person that made that decision has to live with that fact. Just remember that you are responsible for more than yourself Claxter.>
Ossanlin shifts his main eyes over to Salem and narrows them, his dislike for the human showing through. <Perhaps...if you can keep yourself and your artificially-intelligent friend from accidentally killing me every time we share more than a glance.> Ossanlin shifts his eyes toward Al for a moment before returning them to Salem.
His thoughts are interrupted by his comm going off. He pulls it from his harness and notes Corliss' signal. He sighs, opening the channel and is greeted by a snide comment. <Well Corliss, I'm glad you're finally showing your true colors, pretending to be civil is so unsuiting for you. To what do I owe this rude interjection?>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ______________
~Rathien~
Rathien chuckles again, taking another drink of his beverage. "I'll be sure to let fate know that you don't believe in her when she kills you. I'm certain I'll be present as the instrument of her design." He smirks. "Until then I must bide my time I suppose."
Rathien raises his glass to the bar in general. "As for what I want...who's to say? I follow my sixth sense and it never leads me astray. That doesn't mean I know why it leads me to do what I do. Besides, I wouldn't have gotten to sample the drinks of this fine establishment if I'd stayed outside. Nor would I have heard about your little plan to assasinate a member of the Electorate. I assume he's your contact?" Rathien gestures at the large male Andalite. He listens as the Andalite speaks to Salem, his face twitching at the mention of Al. The Andalite's eyes had flashed to a table full of people...so, one of them was the android. There was little way to tell which one he was. First glance would suggest the well-dressed one, but then that might be part of the deception.
-
"It's Terenia," she snaps, eyebrows drawing together in frustration. "Listen, I don't know if you noticed yet or not, but there's been a rather unwelcome visitor to the bar and she - he - is asking for me." She realizes that her fear over the situation is manifesting itself in anger and checks herself, forcing Mike's voice to calm a fraction. "Ossanlin, I don't want to screw up any of the, you know, time lines or whatever. I'm not stupid, we both saw what happened last time I faced my sister. A...a mistake like that could alter everything this time around."
She sighs, plopping down in the pilot's chair. What exactly am I trying to ask him for? "I need to get out of here, Ossanlin. Sooner than later. This place just keeps creating more problems for me and we all know that no one will mourn my leaving this damned place. But I need...I need your help. I can't leave until you help me." She gulps, getting to the crux of it. Of what she wants and of what she can clearly see Mike wants for her.
"How long until you'll be able to make me human again?" she asks quietly, trying her absolute hardest not to sound demanding. "And...if something were to happen in the meantime, with my sister and her Yeerk...how would it...would it at all..." she lets out a frustrated groan. "I don't understand how any of this **** works. Damn this bar!"
-
Salem shot Ossanlin a smirk. It looked like the War-Prince was going to continue holding the fact that Al'd run him over with a spacecraft over Salem's head.
"No, Andalite, I assure you I'm more than capable of just sitting and speaking. Should I let you tend to your... emergencies for now?" he asked, indicating Ossanlin's comm device.
He turned back to Rathien, "Even if fate existed, hunter, would she really choose you to carry out her whims? What makes you so special?" When Rathien suggested that Ossanlin might be Salem's 'contact,' he laughed. How much should he reveal to this hunter? Would there be any additional harm in being honest? Probably not, this time. In fact, it might benefit him, if he played this right.
"No, no, Rathien," he said, keeping his voice low enough that Ossanlin shouldn't overhear. "I doubt a War-Prince would approve of that kind of thing. This particular little job is all mine." He gestured to the rest of the bar, "With this crowd, I'm sure you can find some pretty interesting drinks, at least, if that's all you're here for. But," he continued, staring straight into Rathien's eyes, "if you're looking for a greater challenge than most individuals can afford to you, that's got to mean you're here to see me. What's that sixth sense of yours say about taking jobs from marks?"
He noticed the way Rathien followed Ossanlin's eyes in Al's direction. Great. If Rathien had figured out who Al was, that was one of Salem's biggest advantages down the drain.
<<Hey, Al, keep an eye on Rathien,>> he thought-spoke to the android.
Al frowned and thought, "United States... that does vaguely ring a bell. Might be one of your old nations, right? On the less-used of the two main Earth landmasses? And Mexico... I was in a Mexico City once. Cute little place. Very tourist-destination kind of town. Not very big, but friendly. That anywhere near where you're from?" he asked, looking at Jasper with a shrug. "It was definitely hot there, anyway. And thanks for noticing my neat little ability," he said, tapping his temple with a finger and grinning. "Added that one myself. I can still experience secondary sensory input from the ship from here."
When Salem thought-spoke to him, Al rolled his eyes. He couldn't answer back without giving himself away, of course, but if he could have, the response would have been something along the lines of duh.
-
Ewa felt her half-formed thoughts stall, flummoxed. Van had all the tell-tale changes and embellishments that marked him as other than human, but--excepting the tux--Al looked like exactly the same race as Jasper. And Jasper was from Texas.
Then Al revealed his ability to "experience secondary sensory input" from his ship. So he's disguised as human... probably meant for infiltration... unless he's supposed to be from a universe or time where humans have become technologically more advanced. Would having cybernetic implants mean he's not human anymore?
Ewa gives herself a mental shake as she notices the bar tender returning with their drinks. I keep underestimating the allowable diversity in this scape.
"If no one minds me asking," she began as she claimed the drink that had been set down next to her, "that Imperial who was in here earlier seemed to cause a lot of...disturbance. Would any of you know what that was about, or are you all here for your own reasons?" Mostly she was asking Al and Jasper, since she knew Van was as new as herself, but there was no telling what he might have picked up since they had separated.
She took a sip of her drink. It was stronger than she had expected, but it had a very pleasant cinnamon/spice sort of aftertaste. I'd better take it easy with this, she thinks and looks over at Van with a bit of a smirk. "Nice drink recommendation. Do you use it often?"
-
"...I'm guessing that you haven't been to my timeline. At least not at the time that I'm from. Er.. something like that. I guess you could say Mexico City is kinda close... I mean.. not really, but... yeah." Jasper said.
Salem answered Ewa, or at least, responded to her question. "I have no idea who that was. I haven't had the chance to get acquainted with any of the other bar patrons in the short time I've been here." Sapttus was tapping his foot on the ground; he wasn't anxious or anything, it was just a habit, really. Jasper reached inside his black laptop bag and pulled out the half-finished wooden elephant and his whittling knife, laid out a napkin on his lap and began to chip away at it. He was still part of the conversation, of course, he was just... multi-tasking.
-
Claxter hoped what he had done was the right thing. He heard what Terenia was saying, but said nothing. He had nothing positive to say about her, and insulting her wouldn't do anyone any good.
-
Al smiled and shook his head at Ewa, "I'm with him," he said, pointing at Jasper. "No idea what the imperial's deal was. I couldn't tell you what a lot of the drama centered around this bar has to deal with. Everybody's got issues here, seems like. I'm just here to enjoy myself."
He took a sip of his second drink, which had just arrived, "Mmm... that's not bad, Van. Good recommendation. I'll have to keep that one in mind," he said to Van, smiling.
Al laughed and shrugged somewhat apologetically at Jasper, "Yeah, like I said, I haven't spent a whole lot of time on Earth, and from the sound of things, you're from a very different version of the planet than I am. Or... a past version or somethin' or other. Iunno," he grew more and more mumbly as he spoke. When Jasper pulled out his elephant carving, Al looked at it with interest, "Now that's pretty decent work. I used to dabble in whittling, myself. Is that... what is that?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin shoots Salem another non-trusting glance. Generally he wasn't this hostile to anyone, but he can't shake the negative feelings he has for Salem.
Listening to Terenia, he moves his free hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. <Terenia...well I suppose I should've known that Corliss would keep up pretenses. I do hope you're not mis-treating poor Mike.> Ossanlin takes a deep breath...he was letting her get under his skin again and he'd promised himself to not do that. <I apologize. Look, Terenia...the battle with that strange human has drained me to the maximum. It's injured Mar as well. Frankly I do not believe I will be up to the attempt of reverting your body for quite some time. Ideally I would not try for several days. I have been recovering more quickly than I imagined though, so it may be sooner. I don't think you'd want to be stuck half way in between forms, so don't rush me.>
He sighs again. <Yes I saw your sister. I do not know if she is from an alternate multiverse or merely a different point in your timeline. She can't simply be dismissed. I don't suppose it would harm anything if you merely spoke to her and her Yeerk...as long as you do not reveal knowledge of the future to her, assuming you can manage not to do anything...final... to them. I'd rather not detain her as that could alter the timeline as well. I do not wish to use empty threats...if Zorish calls the bluff, he'll know I can't do anything to him.> Ossanlin sighs to himself again. <If you can manage to speak with them carefully and without using a weapon on them, it is the only way I can see to resolve this safely.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __________--
~Rathien~
Rathien raises an eyebrow. "Well I could explain to you why I am an instrument of Fate...but you implied that you had no desire to learn about The Kill. Without learning about The Kill, my explanation will hold little meaning to you." Rathien takes another pull from his glass, setting it down on the bar beside him with about a third of the drink left.
"As for your...hit...for all I know, assisting you will lead to your own perfect demise. My instincts do not lie about such things." Rathien smirks again.
-
Terenia frowns at the comm link, wondering why the Andalite never seems to say anything that benefits her. She has half a notion to demand that he come and take care of everything immediately, but she knows that conversation will not end well. "Alright," she says into the comm. "I'll...I'll wait for you, then." Her voice takes on a sarcastic edge. "And I'll try not to kill anyone without your permission." She hesitates before replacing the comm to Mike's holster.
"Thanks," she adds, more sincerely, quickly cutting the communication. <<Alright, then,>> she says to Mike, still gripping his Dracon firmly in his left hand. <<I guess we go talk to my sister.>>
Outside the hatch of the Skimmer, Zorish is deep in conversation with Tamora.
<<Why do they keep saying 'sister' if it's a Yeerk?>> she is asking.
<<I do not know, Tamora,>> Zorish's reply is testy. His host's constant worrying is beginning to impact him. <<The Andalite said she gained the morphing ability. Perhaps she has morphed a Yeerk.>> A smile of amusement crosses his face at that idea; certainly any creature that had access to the morphing technology was a friend of the Andalites. And no sane Andalite ally would ever take on Yeerk form.
<<But what if>>
<<What?>> Zorish snaps. <<What if your dead sister somehow resurrected herself, inserted herself into our war and ended up here, light years away in the body of another? Do you realize how absurd you sound?>>
Tamora's silence is compounded by the hurt she feels at being yelled at by Zorish. He sighs, running a hand through his host's hair and unlimbering his weapon.
<<I apologize,>> he says in a softer tone. <<I know that you mourn the loss of your family, broken as it was. But trust me when I tell you that clinging on to empty hopes will not help you. What if it is Teresa? What then? Are you going to ask me to run into her arms and hug her like the long lost ghost she would be?>>
<<No,>> Tamora admits grudgingly. <<I...I don't know how I would feel.>>
<<If this is your sister,>> Zorish presses, <<then that means that she didn't just run away from your home, she ran away from Earth itself. And if she's been alive all this time, why didn't she try to contact you? We - you and I - frequently monitor communications in and out of Earth space. Never has there been anything to indicate Teresa's presence, except for this message we received saying that you and I were dead.>>
<<So Terenia is->>
<<Terenia is a murderer, whether she is your sister or not,>> Zorish says, clicking the dial on his Dracon up to a higher, more deadly setting. <<And if she is your sister, you owe her nothing but contempt.>>
-
Ossanlin had advised Terenia against what Claxter had actually done. This might not bode well. Would he be reprimanded if anyone found out? Would they kill Zorish and Tamora if they found out? Would their deaths achieve the same goal of insuring the other Efaen didn't fall into Terenia's self serving control? Probably. Would he ever know if what he did was the right thing to do?
-
As the Skimmer comes into Illim's view, he spots the woman who appears the be the source of Corliss's worries standing near the ship. Illim approaches more cautiously now, keeping a lookout for the dark-haired Brit.
It's good news, at least, he thinks, that the ship hasn't left without him. Slightly more troubling is the fact that the Skimmer's hatch is closed.
Serid shifts in his seat, listening to Ossanlin's conversation as well as he can, distracted as he is by the many others in the dark room. To what he particularly listens is the War Prince's discussion of his agreement to return Terenia to her human body. If it will be so difficult to help her, it makes him wonder if he should even be getting his hopes up at all.
-
<<Yeah,>> Mike says worriedly, <<I reckon we attempt to make civil conversation with...with the dead.>>
He steels his nerves as best as he can, although it has no effect whatsoever on his body, which is completely under Terenia's control.
-
"Right," Terenia says, biting Mike's lip. "Yeah. Let's...get this over with." She takes a deep breath and orders the hatch to open.
Zorish's internal conversation is interrupted by the sound of approaching footfalls. He looks up and notes a vaguely familiar man approaching. He must've been in the bar, Zorish says, squinting as he tries to place him. Casually, he shifts his position slightly so that he is in a better position to shoot if the stranger is not friendly.
"Hello, friend," Zorish calls out to Illim, a tight smile on his face. He opens Tamora's mouth to speak again, but just then the hatch to the Skimmer swoops back open. Zorish's head snaps around, and he sees "Corliss" standing in the doorway.
Except, even in the little amount of time that Zorish and Corliss have interacted, he can sense a difference.
"Terenia, I presume?" Zorish asks smoothly, keeping Illim within his view as he turns to the ship.
<<Oh God, it is her,>> Terenia says, clamping Mike's jaw shut tightly to keep it from opening with shock. Even though his memories were right there, even though she expected it, her Tamora's presence still nearly takes the wind out of her. For a long moment she is frozen, staring at the ghost of her sister incomprehensibly. She almost forgets that her hand is wrapped around a Dracon, so tightly that Mike's knuckles are bone white.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin sighs, closing the comm. He points to Serid. <You're with me Warrior.> He regards Claxter and Efaen with his stalk eyes. <You two keep an eye on things inside.> He doesn't say so, but he doesn't want either of them involved in this situation...Claxter had an emotional investment in Efaen and Efaen's feelings on the matter were...well...undes irable at best.
Ossanlin trots out the door and moves toward the Skimmer at a slightly less than urgent pace, trusting Serid to follow.
-
Salem rolled his eyes, "Yeah, if I think you're going to try to off me mid-job, I'm not exactly going to be asking for your help, Ildari. You can spare me your talk of 'The Kill,' too. As thrilling as it sounds, I don't think it's something I have need of in my own life."
Having him along would be dangerous, Salem thought, but on the other hand...
"If you want in on my little job, I'll need some sort of assurance that you won't be targeting me until that contract is fulfilled. Is that something your... fate would allow you to agree to?" he asked with a smirk.
-
Ewa felt a twinge of frustration. It was the sort of twinge that caused her to picture herself with three arms, each choking one of her current companions as she bashed their heads together and demanded they make themselves useful. At this rate a plot will NEVER develop and we'll be stuck here with nothing better to do than drink ourselves under the table.... or maybe someplace a bit more comfortable... mm... Someone else might have needed to bite the inside of her cheek, but Ewa stayed relaxed and let her gaze wander. The bar had quieted down again.
She eyed Jasper's carving with admiration, though she was also envious he had something to help keep him occupied. "Looks like it will be a lovely little addition to the pachyderm population of the bar." Her eyes were smiling. "You never did tell me what brought you here." She left it as a statement. Probably he had not said before because it was not something he felt he could share, but she needed more information to work with.
"What year was it when you left your version of Earth, then?" she asked Al.
-
<Yes sir.> Claxter said. He didn't really want to be outside with them anyway. His stalk eyes shifted fom Efaen to Theta to that predator that was talking with Salem and making him nervous. Illim had gone outside, likely to help Corliss or Terenia. <Bartender. A drink please. Something to settle the nerves, but won't make my legs feel like they're on fire.> The bartender came back with some orange liquid, and it tasted pretty good when he tried it.
-
Mar eventually spots Salem, frowning as he realizes that the idiot is already caught up in some other conversation. The man closest to him looks rough around the edges and a little bizarre, like a mercenary of sorts. Mar snorts at this thought. You could never tell whose side the lawless would be on at any given time---Mar had hired lawless people before and had also been attacked by them. This Bar, unfortunately, attracted that kind of traveler. Mar wondered dimly what exactly he was by this point.
Mar walks quietly up to Salem and states, "....trader. We have seen enough of one another that I can be reasonably certain of making a proper...deal with you. You seem to have traveled to a very large number of places, so I may...ask for information or something else from your ship rather than energy from your body. I prefer the latter, but you may have more on you that I need than you realize. I'm tired of wasting time in this rotting place."
-
Illim continues approaching once Zorish acknowledges him. <<Hopefully this doesn't turn into a shootout,>> he mutters to Derrel, glad to feel the weight of the Dracon at his side.
Mike emerges from the Skimmer a moment later. Maybe I can diffuse this, he thinks, knowing Corliss wouldn't appreciate a dead host. And, if this is Terenia, based on what he's been told about her and Corliss's relationship, he wouldn't want her dead, either.
"Hello, brother," he calls to Zorish, his tone friendly. He is wearing the most disarming smile Derrel can muster.
Serid stands immediately upon receiving his order. "Yes, sir," he murmurs, bypassing the Andalites out the Bar door behind Ossanlin. It is beyond him how he might be of service here where the others cannot, except for his relationship with Illim and more tenuous one with Corliss, but he does not question or complain.
Even though Ossanlin is moving far less swiftly than he could, Serid still must follow at a jog to keep up.
-
<<Hopefully.>> Derrel said. Zorish had used the word friend, but he wasn't sure how friendly zorish would actually be. Obviously he was willing to be civil, which was a start, but Terenia wasn't that civil a person save with Corliss.
-
<<Well, don't bloody shoot her!>> Mike exclaims, feeling full well the pressure his hand is exerting on the weapon. <<Say something, for God's sake.>>
-
Efaen watches Ossanlin and Serid leave, feeling slightly put-off by the fact that she was not called on to help. She raises no complaint, though, keeping her opinions to herself. Instead, she begins listening to the conversations around her. Closest at hand are a crowd of newcomers; all of which seem vaguely human. The only one she recognizes in the group is Salem's lackey, who's name she cannot recall. She keeps her face as impassive as possible as she eavesdrops on their conversation.
<<Right. Say something,>> Terenia clears Mike's throat and tries to force his muscles to unclench. You're a Yeerk, dammit, she scolds herself. Act the part. Taking a deep breath she switches her focus away from Zorish slightly, instead sinking deeper into Mike's consciousness and his mannerisms. Her hand loosens on the Dracon, although she keeps it ready at her side.
"Hello Sub-Visser," Terenia says in Mike's voice, carefully addressing the Yeerk inside Tamora rather than Tamora herself.
Zorish's smile twists slightly at the slight shaking in Mike's tone. His gaze flickers quickly to Illim, then back to Terenia. "Do you know why I am here?" he asks levelly, stepping back to allow Mike room to descend the ramp if he so chooses.
Mouth dry, Terenia nods. "You want to know about...about your death. And your...your host's."
"Indeed," Zorish says, that mocking smile still in place. "And what can you tell me?"
"I reckon you already know everything," Terenia says, briefly watching Mike's memory of Zorish and Myitt's conversation. "I wasn't there when you died."
"No, but you were there when Tamora died," Zorish snaps, smile fading. His Dracon raises ever so slightly, still pointed at the ground, but clearly visible. "What part did you play in her death?"
"I-" Terenia's voice shifts again, taking on her own angry tones. "I had no choice, Yeerk. She was dangerous. She nearly killed me! And she wouldn't...she wouldn't agree to stay away from the Empire. I had to kill her! It was for her own good!"
"Was it?" Zorish does raise his Dracon this time, drawing a bead on Mike's chest. Terenia reacts quickly, raising her own weapon in turn.
-
<<This is probably going to sound weird, Illim, but if you're going to stun someone, it should be Terenia. Usually it's best to go after the aggressive person in a fight. Things tend to settle down faster that way, and there's less of a chance of someone getting killed.>> Derrel said. He'd do it himself, but he couldn't.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin swears in his own mind, setting off on a gallop as he sees arms pointing at others. The Imperial hadn't seemed hostile, obviously Ossanlin had judged incorrectly. He knows full well that Serid won't be able to keep up, but he trusts that he will arrive shortly to back him up. This was exactly the reason he hadn't asked Efaen or Claxter to come along. <<Clear your weapon of its holster and set to stun, Warrior, but only fire if you believe it to be absolutely necessary.>>
As soon as he's in range, Ossanlin follows his own orders and frees both of his Shredders from their holsters, commanding them to stun, and raises one at the Imperial and the other at Mike. He didn't know who had raised on the other first, but this needed to be diffused. <Both of you lower your weapons or I will be forced to lower them for you!>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________
~Rathien~
Rathien returns Salem's gaze. The Hunter is taller, but being that he's sitting and Salem's standing, they're about level, Salem's head just a few inches above his own. "Well, Tobias..." he grins charismatically, "I can agree to just about anything."
-
Al frowned and squinted at Jasper's carving, "Pachyderm... pachy... dermis? Phil, the philanthropic pachyderm? Pachy Rap?" He snapped his fingers and pointed at the figure, grinning, "It's an elephant! Boo yah!" He looked from Jasper to Ewa, still beaming, "You guys are really trying to put my Earth-knowledge to the test here, aren't you?"
When Ewa asked what year it was when he left Earth, he ****ed his head, and then stared off into space, speaking as he thought. "Good question. Let me see... if I go by that Gregorian calendar you Earthlings are so fond of... um... I think I haven't been on Earth since around thirty-two fifty-seven. I remember clearly not remembering the night before. I was hung over from one of the Earth holidays I'm very well acquainted with," he winked at Jasper. "You April Fools sure know how to get down. I guess that means it was April second. I think I wound up leaving at around twelve-twelve, Greenwich Mean Time." He looked at Ewa, "Is that how you measure time on your Earth? Did I do that right? What year are you all from, anyway, since we're swapping such intimate personal information?"
Salem snorted in response to Rathien's words, "You professional bounty hunters are all the same. It'd be nice if one of you had some honor for once." He grinned at the hunter, "If you and I come to an agreement, there's no way I could trust you to actually hold up your end of the deal, is there? Because if my little project is going to happen, the last thing we're going to need is to spend the entire time worrying about betrayal." He smirked, "Maybe this time I should just get rid of you and be done with it. Don't you think you've walked away from me enough times? We're both living on borrowed time since Lursa seven. At some point, your fate might want yours back." He grinned, "And I might just agree with her for once." He didn't know if it was possible to strike a nerve with Rathien- he'd never had this much of a chance to speak with the being before- but that wasn't going to stop him from trying. He'd escaped Rathien on a few occasions before- usually by a fairly wide margin- but Lursa seven had been very close. Salem's escape from that one had to be sitting in the front of Rathien's mind, and he was going to make sure it stayed there.
He turned to Mar. It took a moment for what he'd said to sink in. He still... wanted to make a deal with him? Salem could feel himself practically salivating. What Mar had offered him was... extremely tempting, to put it lightly. The potential power... the insight into the Immortals... He stared at the highest, his mind wandering back to what Myitt had told him about the being... the warnings she'd given. But this... Mar was proposing a change in the equation. How much trust could he place in the being?
After a moment of awkward silence, Salem finally replied, "Of course, I'm willing to help you out in any way I can, highest, assuming you still want to deal with me. I'm not sure what someone like me could offer someone like you, but if you'd like to take a look at what I've got, you're welcome to."
-
"Thanks... it's... okay, I guess." Jasper said to Ewa. "Let's just say I'm here on vacation."
<<Ha, vacation....>>
<<Well.. what would you call it?>>
Jasper chuckled. "Yeah, it's an elephant. Sorta...." He listened to Al's little spiel on his Earth visit. " That's about a thousand years after my time, dude. So... I have no idea if that's the same timeline or not. And yeah, I think you did that right. At least, it's right in my world. ..This is all so confusing..."
He looked at Ewa, awaiting her response.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien's grin falters a bit before he recovers. Even so he still runs his tongue over the opposite fang as before...not a sign of desire, but of annoyance.
"Fate makes her decisions and I help to execute them. Trying to go against her is an exercise in futility. If it is time for my Dream to end, then it is time and nothing will stop it." His grin takes on a bit of a nasty twist. "You're certainly welcome to try your luck Tobias...but you should know by now that I will not hesitate to kill in the defense of my own life, even if it isn't The Kill." It would not be visible to anyone not skilled in martial styles, but Rathien's posture changes in minute ways that make him ready to respond in a number of different ways to a number of different things on a moment's notice.
"I am not the one who runs away like a scared little itrag." Rathien affords Salem a bit of a sneer.
-
((Woops...I kinda forgot about this place...))
|OGREON
Ogreon was still standing petrified in fear of the cyborg. But eventually, his body unlocked and he moved...running right out of the establishment. He ran behind the bar and panted heavily, trying to thin of what to do next.
|THETA-PI
Theta's sensors detected the creature running away. He couldn't care less. He continued processing...
What if the Alvie come to find us... he thought to himself...
-
"This is not your fight, Andalite," Zorish sneers, not looking away from his target. "This creature destroyed my host. That does not sit well with me."
<<Why the hell does an Imperial Yeerk care so much about Tammy?>> Terenia asks Mike silently. She glances at Ossanlin, the thunder of his hooves announcing his arrival just as much as his thought-speak. "If I lower my weapon," she says, loud enough for him to hear how her voice is shaking, "I'm pretty sure I won't be happy with the results." She nods towards Zorish, "Something tells me that her Dracon is not set to stun."
Zorish stands his ground, his previously friendly features twisted with disgust. "I have a right to avenge her death, traitor," he says. "You took her from me. She is mine."
-
Mar nods carefully, giving Salem his direct gaze. The trader, as far as Mar can tell, really has no idea what he'd be interested in. But he also knows that that ship has collected artifacts from a wide-ranging number of places. An artifact that is a potent source of forged dark matter would be of great interest to Mar---he has seen such curiosities in other universes before, often hiding in plain sight. Salem's knowledge of his own universe may help Mar in another way. He can determine whether he has entered or can enter the place without sentience loss. More interesting than any of these things is acquiring some access to Salem himself...
Mar states, "I'd be willing to look. Objects with some connection to my sort of energy interest me, and they can hide quite easily. Other than a strange urge to keep whatever it was to yourself, you probably wouldn't be able to tell. Information may also be useful--if I can in fact enter your world, it will be worth giving you access to me. We'll see, trader."
-
Ossanlin frowns. <She killed a version of your host from another timeline where you are also dead. What kind of twisted thought-pattern causes you to attempt to avenge the death of someone who's still alive?!> Ossanlin stamps a hoof again. <You're out-manned and out-gunned Sub-Visser.> The thought has a bit of a sneer to it. <If you meant to go around flashing your Dracon, you should've brought reinforcements. Now if you don't lower your weapon, you will be stunned, and your poor human host for which you care so much will then have to suffer through the throes of your own agonizing starvation.>
-
Zorish's expression twitches angrily, cold gray eyes flashing with fury.
<<Stop, Zorish!>> Tamora cries. <<He'll kill you!>>
<<This bar is crawling with Yeerks,>> Zorish responds, sounding uncertain, <<The Andalite will not be able to best me.>>
<<Traitor Yeerks,>> Tamora reminds him. <<Zorish, please. No one here is loyal to the Empire and I can't bear lose you too. This isn't you, you don't kill people for no reason. You're not a murderer!>>
<<I have a reason,>> he snarls. <<This Terenia destroyed you.>>
<<Only because you had already been destroyed,>> Tamora says, scrambling for a way to convince him to lower his weapon. <<Isn't Myitt more of a threat than this person? As long as you are here, no one can hurt me.>> She whimpers in the back of her mind. <<Please, Zorish...for me...>>
Growling outwardly in frustration Zorish slowly lowers his weapon, jamming it into his holster and raising his hands, palms outward. "As you command, War-Prince," Zorish says flatly, taking a step backwards, away from the ramp of the Skimmer. A small, ghost of a smile flickers across his face, as he tears his gaze from Terenia, collecting himself. "I seem to have allowed my temper to overtake my sense. My apologies, Andalite. I assure you that I am usually much more level-headed."
Terenia does not lower her own weapon, distrust and fear written plainly across Mike's face, even after Zorish has raised his hands. Her eyes flicker from Ossanlin to Zorish, not entirely sure what to do.
-
<<Looks like the Andalite took care of that,>> Illim mutters to Derrel, his hand hovering on his Dracon until Zorish puts his away. <<Besides... Zorish was the first to draw a weapon. If anyone's aggressive, it'd be him. Not to mention he's on the wrong side.>>
He takes a careful sidestep so that Zorish is not between him and Terenia; he certainly doesn't want to get caught in Terenia's fire, should her aim be less than perfect. Unfortunately, this brings him a step closer to the Andalite. The Andalite with a very much functional tail blade.
Illim eyes Ossanlin nervously, wishing he could just disappear and reemerge undetected on the Skimmer, out of sight, ready to go to his new home. Instead, he gives the angrily stamping Andalite what he hopes is a charming smile -- in reality it looks more like a hopeful grimace. "Scuze me, just heading that'a way," he mutters, jerking his head towards the Skimmer, taking another sidestep, trying to move around him.
Serid increases his pace to a sprint in an attempt to keep up with Ossanlin, an attempt which, of course, fails. When he arrives behind the War Prince, he has obeyed his order, his weapon out.
He glances swiftly at Illim and then ignores him, choosing instead to focus his attention where Ossanlin has: on the apparent argument between two Yeerks. He advances until he is beside Ossanlin, giving his superior a wide enough berth that he does not hinder his movements, but clearly is offering backup.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin gestures at Terenia with his other Shredder. <It might be best if you take Mike back inside and seal the hatch.>
<As for you, Imperial...if your only business here is to kill people who wronged a different you in a different timeline, I suggest you leave. No one around here really likes it when someone comes in guns blazing. You'll find this place very hostile in a very short amount of time. If you have other business here I suggest you get to it. If I see you within ten meters of that craft for any reason, I will make good on my threat.> Ossanlin gestures the Shredder trained on Tamora as if telling the Yeerk to move on about his business or leave.
Ossanlin nods to Serid without moving his main eyes.
-
Al was surprisingly advanced. Modern humans would refer to the current year as 3282... At least they would if they still used the same sort of calendar. All of her human knowledge petered out about halfway through their third millenium. No one seems to care about anything human that's not ancient.
"Is that how you measure time on your Earth? Did I do that right? What year are you all from, anyway, since we're swapping such intimate personal information?"
Ewa reproved herself for her own thoughtlessness. That's right, lead yourself into getting asked a question you have no reasonable excuse not to know the answer to. Luckily Jasper spoke up first, reminding her that everyone here came from different realities as well as different times. Really, I could say anything I like.... the books were written near the end of the second millenium, which seems to correspond with Jasper....
"Well, so long as all of you promise not to abuse this intimate information by looking me up at all hours of the morning," she quips, "I'm from twenty-oh-four. Looking at everyone here though, I'd say it's probably a different universe than from where most of you are from."
Ha! That's practically carte blanche for anything I feel like now. If they let me get away with it....
-
Salem actually laughed in response to Rathien's comment, "Yeah, I know, I'm a classic coward. The brave and virtuous end up dead early, and yet I'm still here. Kinda makes you wonder who's really right, doesn't it?" He grinned, "I guess you really are a lot like me, hunter. You're looking for the right opportunities, and you'll take a lesser one if you have to." He tipped his hat slightly, smirking, "Rathien, you're an Ildari after my own heart. Resourceful and motivated. It's a shame you try to kill me every time we meet."
He then turned to Mar with a grin, "If you can figure out how to enter my world, you're welcome to try. If you find it, you might want to drag Al and I along. We've been gone a while. Seem to have crazies trying to kill us the whole way, too," he said, jerking his thumb pointedly at Rathien. "Speaking of which..." he looked back at the hunter, "Rathien, have you seen Thienal lately? It'd be nice if I could keep tabs on him. He's easier to evade than you, but every bit as obnoxious."
He shook his head. "So, would you like to come to my ship?" he asked Mar. "I have a few things that I have the desire to keep to myself, but it's usually tied directly to its real value to me. Would you know an object with... immortal energy if you saw it?" He gestured towards the door, "After you, of course."
Al nodded at Jasper, "Yeah, stuff here kinda seems to revolve around the whole Yeerk-and-Andalite thing. Which might explain why Salem and I are here. We've actually spent a fair amount of time in that era. Or this era, if that's how this place works." He rolled his eyes, "Time here's kinda ridiculous."
He smirked at Ewa's little joke, "So's space, apparently, if you think stuff's that different just based on looks. Now you guy's've got me curious, though." He looked from Van to Ewa to Jasper, "What's stuff like where you're from?"
-
Terenia swallows hard, nodding in response to Ossanlin's command. For once, she is not in any condition to argue with his instructions. Lowering the Dracon, she slides back half a step, leaving room for the hatch to close. About to give the order, she hesitates when she notices Illim attempting to casually make his way over. Despite the fact that she has half a mind to leave him, lock herself in the Skimmer, and never look back she hesitates. He is a potential ally, she reminds herself. A future member of the rebellion, and he has been cleared by Reven. It'll look good for you too if you keep him safe.
"Come on, then," she barks at him, eager to put this ordeal behind her.
Zorish's tense smile remains in place as he lowers his hands, keeping them well away from the butt of his Dracon, lest the Andalite think that he is going to pull it again. "I do not wish for bloodshed," the Sub-Visser says in the calmest voice he can muster. "As I said, my emotions got the better of me, for which I apologize." He takes a few more long steps back, counting out loud at each footfall. "One…two…" He counts all the way to ten, when he stops and raises his voice."I was unaware of the fact that Terenia was under your care, Andalite, unable to speak for himself. I will try my best not to bother your charges any further while I am here."
Terenia's head snaps around at the jibe, the back of Mike's neck flushing red. "I'm not his charge and I can speak for myself, filth," she shouts back, a knot of fury overriding her desperation to close the hatch. She takes a step forward, Dracon half rising once more.
-
<<Terenia,>> Mike warns, <<she's just trying to lure you into reacting so she has a reason to shoot you! To shoot us. Can't we just leave her well enough alone?>>
Meanwhile Corliss swims impatiently in the humid pool room, wondering what has become of the two people he cares about most.
-
Mar closes his eyes, thinking this idea over, and then nods. "....I think I would, yes. Objects with the type of signature I prefer are...attractive to mortals. You may have heard the stories. The more powerful the object, the stronger this pull becomes. I doubt you have anything with the sort of potency a Highest imbues, but you may be carrying something on you of value to me without knowing it."
Mar then stands up and wanders toward the door, waiting for the trader to follow him. He is not entirely sure what he's trying to do with Salem, but he senses a benefit to giving the idiot power. He muses that even if he gets something out of Salem, he might not be able to give the trader the gift in his current state. The Bar's skewed sense of reality may prevent the attempt entirely. Yet it was worth a shot.
-
Illim nods gratefully to Terenia and has made it all but five paces from the Skimmer's hatch when Terenia's tempter is baited again, and she's raging towards Zorish -- and therefore himself -- with her Dracon out. "Whoa, whoa," he mutters, his hands shooting up, palms out, and he sidesteps again.
Once out of the immediate line of fire, he climbs the ramp behind her and murmurs, "Look, I don't know the situation here, but... I have a hunch it isn't worth all this. Let's just keep you alive long enough for Ossanlin to do his magic trick, and then we can go to our new home, eh?"
Serid raises an eyebrow and makes a motion that indicates he is considering aiming his weapon at Terenia. <<Short fuse,>> he remarks quietly to his Prince.
-
<<I can just tell this trip is going to be all kinds of fun.>> Derrel said sarcastically, knowing how easy it is to set Terenia off when around someone she doesn't like. Such as the Andalite Corliss so wisely insisted on coming with them. <<Girls and their PMSing.>> He joked, feeling sure Illim would be smart enough not to mention PMS to an angry woman.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin's face remains set in stone as his second Shredder remains trained on Terenia. <If you want to live long enough to see your human form again, return to the ship and seal the damn hatch!> Ossanlin surprises himself by using the distinctly human invective. He'd been hanging around humans and human-like Yeerks for too long.
He keeps his main eyes on Zorish. <She speaks the truth, she is not under my charge and she has her own voice. But I will not allow some trigger-happy Imperial to waltz in here and start killing people for no sensible reason.> Another partially-human phrase? He didn't think about it, just stayed focused on Zorish. <You have two choices right now...return to the bar or return to your ship and egress.>
In private to Serid... <<She is...damaged. It's a long story.>>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _________
~Rathien~
Rathien raises an eyebrow...Tobias had tactics, yes. This could easily be one of them, in fact it was most-likely one of them, but he couldn't ignore his instincts. "I believe what you mean to say is that the strong and the bold seize power and live life whilst the weak and cowardly spend their entire existences running and hiding, ceding any iota of power they might have to improve their survival rate. I would rather live life than spend it cowering in a dark corner."
He takes one last long pull from his glass, emptying it. "What good would it do if I agreed to...postpone...you r death? When it comes to me, I am perfectly capable of telling an "honorable" truth or betraying my word, and when it comes to you, you are incapable of believing that I ever honor it. Even were I telling the truth, you would not believe me." Rathien grins again. "And you're wise for that. If, however, you should happen to change your mind about my involvement in your little hit mission, I may be able to spare some time for you."
He listens to Mar, feigning disinterest. There were some strange words being exchanged. Some of the scholars on his homeworld had mentioned the possibility of actual magic...the word Highest had been used in that matter of discussion.
He grins charismatically at Mar when Salem points to him as a being after his life. "I'm not insane, Tobias is just a joy to hunt." Rathien shrugs a bit before looking back at Salem. "As for Thienal...I had assumed he would beat me here, he received the tip about your location prior to myself. It seems his tracking skills have fallen lax however...I have no idea where he might be." Rathien shrugs apologetically.
-
Terenia's eyes widen at the harsh words from Ossanlin and she skitters back a few feet, firmly within the bridge of the Skimmer. Clenching her teeth around a sharp reply she instead hisses out the command for the hatch to close. It is only after the outside world is cut off that she finally fully lowers the weapon. Her breath is coming in heaving gasps, as though she had just forced Mike to run a marathon, and it takes all of her strength to reholster the weapon. When she turns to Illim she notes that her hands are shaking.
"Sor-sorry," she says shakily. "I, uh, wouldn't have shot you, you know."
<<Let's not ever do that again,>> Terenia says quietly to Mike. <<I don't care that she's here, I don't care if she's the same Tammy I knew or not. The dead should stay dead and I don't want to see her again.>>
"Trigger happy?" Zorish raises his eyebrows, his expression flickering only slightly when the Skimmer's hatch slides shut. "I believe you are exaggerating, Andalite. But I can see where you may have gotten a false impression." He licks his lips, glancing from Ossanlin to Serid. "I will return to the bar. Perhaps I could offer you a drink, on my tab, for the trouble I seem to have caused?" He offers the War-Prince a thin smile.
The conversations around Efaen are of little use to her. She notes that much of the discussion seems to revolve around Earth, a planet that Efaen really would prefer to not to dwell on. Earth had brought about quite a few problems for her. In truth, she needs to speak with Corliss and see if she can convince him to allow his leader to speak with Ossanlin, but she is under orders to remain in the bar and keep an eye on things. Or rather, to remain away from a potentially volatile situation, she translates, wondering what is happening outside the bar. She has no doubt that it involves Terenia and her supposedly dead sister, a fact that almost makes her glad for her orders. The drama surrounding Terenia's life has been a thorn in Efaen's side for years now, and it is a relief to separate herself from them.
Impatiently she scuffs a hoof against the wood floor, ready to be free of this bar and all of its conflict.
-
Seeing her like that made Derrel want to give her a consolatory hug. Though honestly he didn't know how she'd react to it. Or if Illim would even want to. Now they were inside and the hatch was closed, but he wondered what now?
-
<<Then let's get out of here,>> Mike insists. <<I know, we're waiting for Efaen and Ossanlin, but...if Efaen is supposed to be Ossanlin's temporary charge, can't he babysit her while he recuperates? This place is poisonous, Terenia.>>
-
Terenia nods, trying to ease the tension that is holding all of Mike's muscles taut. "Yeah," she whispers. "Yeah, we should go."
<<I just don't want to lose this opportunity,>> she adds privately to him, making her way jerkily back to the pool room, Illim already half-forgotten. She clears her throat, laying her fingers on the lip of the pool and looking down at the small slug-like form she has grown to care about more than she will let herself admit.
"Cor-Corliss?" she says hesitantly, surprised by how Mike's voice catches with emotion as she addresses him over the pool communicator. She can't remember the last time she felt so exhausted. "Corliss, I want to go home."
-
Corliss' calm, fabricated voice sounds over the ceiling's comm system.
"So do I. Would you like to remain in Mike?" he asks quietly. "He can get us home from here." There's a pause. "Is Illim with us? Or...Efaen?"
-
"Illim is here," she says, glancing back towards the bridge where she had left the other Controller. "But Efaen isn't. I haven't...haven't seen her in a long time. Since before you last did." A small smile crosses Mike's face. "I can't believe you shot her, the arrogant prick."
She sighs, running a hand through Mike's dark hair. "I really want to get this whole ordeal with Ossanlin over with, but...I don't think I can stand being here any longer, I really don't. Do you...is there anything you want to sort out before leaving? I, uh...I can give you Mike back." She looks at the pool water loathingly, really wanting nothing less than to return to her blind, helpless state.
-
<<Looks like we're about to leave. Fortunately without being stuck in a small ship with Efaen and Terenia both present.>> Derrel said. He was feeling a little bit nervous about meeting Reven. Not out of any regret, but just regular uncomfortableness from doing something unfamiliar, working for unfamiliar people.
-
"Well, no offense," Ewa said in response to Al's doubt about her being from a different universe, "but you both look a little strange to be human--not that I doubt that you are," she added hastily for Jasper's benefit. His knowledge is much too good for him to deserve a harsh critique on his form. "But.... some things are just a little off. Your hands, your eyes...." she trailed off, not wanting to give offense to the characters, but reminding the actors that she had been trained in this form her entire life.
She couldn't exactly blame them for the differences--clearly they were not from a family that specialized in human representation, and they had probably had only minimal guidance in changing their forms. If they had wanted to pretend they had done just as good a job, they should have started shifting to match me as soon as I was here for comparison.
"So I'm not sure where my world or time lines up with where you guys are from but...." What would be best? The Yeerk thing seems to be the major theme to be involved in here, but I don't remember enough specifics to feel confident about making up an entire invasion history... She took a long drink as an excuse to gather her thoughts. Real Earth back in 2000 hadn't even discovered "other life" yet, much less joined the IPA, but it IS the Earth all of my knowledge comes. She gave a mental shrug. Let's see where this goes.
"Actually, there are no Yeerks or Andalites in the Earth I come from. No aliens at all, not really, so everyone's still in love with the idea of them." She shrugged. "Other than that, I'm not really sure what to answer.... people are born, grow up, lots of them get married, have families, then we die. It's hard to know what's different without seeing something else."
-
A smile tugs at the corner of Derrel's mouth and Illim shrugs. "Yeah, yeah. Just trying to protect the new host. Don't want him getting the impression I'm a reckless guy or anything," he smirks.
When Terenia walks to the pool to talk to Corliss, he sinks into the copilot chair with a sigh, folding Derrel's arms behind his head to create a makeshift pillow. <<Sorry for all the rush, man,>> he tells Derrel, watching Terenia with little interest. <<From all I've heard, the rebellion's a good place. Good people there -- a little on the paranoid side, granted -- and enough food. My guess is I'll be stuck in quarantine a while when I arrive, so maybe you can roam free a while. Or take a new Yeerk. It won't hurt my feelings; I've put you in enough danger.>>
Serid glances at Ossanlin with a subtly dubious expression. <<A Sub-Visser l offering to drink with a War Prince? This is, indeed, a strange place.>>
-
Salem shrugged and smirked, "Or the brave and reckless are the only ones who truly live, if that's how you have to think, hunter. I'm not actually that picky about phrasing." He leaned close to Rathien with a nasty grin, "Hunter, if you're willing to help me out, I might be able to rig up a... let's say 'failsafe,' just to make sure we have no choice but to trust each other." He leaned back against the bar counter and muttered, "Of course, then I'd need to build in some kind of failsafe for the failsafe to make sure you knew I wasn't going to hold it to you even after the job. Should be doable." He chuckled, "It's a shame Thienal seems to have gotten lost on the way. He might be helpful, too. Think he'd be as intrigued as you are by this offer?"
He looked pointedly at the hunter, his expression becoming more serious, "Ildari, if we're going to seriously discuss this deal, we're going to probably both need more information. You're welcome to at least follow me to my ship and see what I'm proposing. Besides, I'm more comfortable if you're somewhere that I can see you."
He turned and walked after Mar. As he caught up and stepped out the door, he said to Al, <<Hey, keep an eye on Rathien for me. He might follow me out for business, but if he's looking suspicious, let me know.>>
Salem then turned to Mar, "Well, I do have a few varieties of processed Allrite. Immortals where I'm from seem to like the stuff. Not sure if I have enough to be of use, but it might be worth a look." He stepped in the direction of his ship.
Al laughed, "I thought I looked pretty decent, for a human. Maybe the ones from your universe just have slight differences," he said. "I could always switch it up."
He listened for a second as Salem thought-spoke to him. Right. Keep an eye on the bounty hunter. That was something in his job description.
He nodded at Ewa, "You seem to be doing pretty well for coming from a place with no aliens. Most beings are a bit more shocked by the presence of other life. Unless... this isn't your first time among beings from other planets, is it?" He smiled slyly, "I'd think this bar should count as seeing something else."
-
A new ship entered the asteroid's atmosphere. It had a Yeerkish design to it, but it was a custom ship. twice the size of a bug fighter, and looked to be high class. It landed in the vicinity of the other ships, making no attempt to hide, and out came a well built Human in his fifties in Imperial attire. After closing up, he made his way towards the bar, within sight of Ossanlin, Serid, and Zorish if Zorish hadn't already entered the building. He saw Ossanlin, but if Ossanlin saw him he'd notice the controller didn't have the common reaction an Imperial usually had upon seeing Andalites.
He strode to the bar, taking in the scenery before entering the building.
-
Van simply kept drinking as the conversation rolled by. Ewa seemed interested in knowing about where everyone was from, what year it was... et cetera. All of them were pretty reasonable questions, and this "Yeerk and Andalite thing" was serious, yes, but said in that matter made it sound like some sort of comedy duo.
The thought made him chuckle, and he grinned, "Mm, nichaa. Where I'm from, when regarding Earth, it's 2192. It's been about... uh, 200 years since that planet experienced first contact. Mmm. We typically use it as our rule of thumb for discussing years, since the Oligarchy -I mean, 'Federation' or whatever fancy thing they rename themselves- has its seat of government there."
He took another gulp of the Dalcasian, and sighed. It would take several more drinks until he actually got thoroughly drunk. Because it made Humans rather tipsy after a couple glasses, it was considered quite alcoholic, but to those with Beryllian blood, it was more like a bizarre juice. In general, beer and wine, and other spirits were too easy for Beryllians to process. This was primarily because most spirits were made from fermented plant-life. Considering that Van was able to eat woodchips with no ill effects, most alcoholic drinks had minor effects on his body, unless the alcohol content was dangerously high for a Human.
Dalcasians were a safer drink to share with Humans than anything Van knew back home. And since Al seemed to be some sort of artificial lifeform, and the others note quite Human despite appearances...?
"All of you, I just hope this stuff doesn't kill you, chaa. Ahem. The, ah... Hmm. If anything we need to know about these, anh, Yeerks and Andalites. Since Ewa and I hardly come from a place with ...creepy parasitic mind-controlling slugs, or whatever Ogreon-ku had said."
Van had to put in an effort to keep his accent at its usual strength. He could sense it slipping, and his pitch lowering, and that bothered him. He turned his empty glass upside down, and placed it on the table. No more drinks for now. He didn't like the idea of giving it away. "It" being the fact that he wasn't just some silly alien with a somewhat poor ability to speak Galactic Common.
-
|THETA-PI
Theta relished all the voices. He could hear each and every conversation with 98.9% accuracy. But he knew he couldn't stand there for long...he had to do something. He couldn't assimilate anyone, he would just end up with the Andalite military officer on his tail again. He couldn't follow the biggest group of people and listen in on their conversations, that would be an "invasion of privacy." But he could not bear the solitude. Once again he found himself more alone in that large gathering of people than he ever was when he was truly isolated.
He walked out of the bar...and remembered his ship. It had been blown up. But inside was a pod composed of Tri-40 and Scutite. That would not have been destroyed by a blast that weak. And the Tri-40 would have made it invisible to sensors. He walked calmly off towards the spot his ship had been.
|OGREON
Ogreon bolted around the bar as the cyborg walked out. Then he bolted back in and ran up to Van.
"That was close, knah? Did it do anything to you?"
-
"Perhaps it's for the best that Efaen isn't accompanying us," Corliss says thoughtfully over the intercom system, which echoes into the cabin as well as the pool room. "At least, not yet. I am glad Illim and Derrel will join us. There is one thing I need to make sure of before we leave; Salem, I want to make absolutely sure he isn't tracing us or tapping into our communications. He went through the motions of trying to make amends with us, but I really don't trust the sneaky bastard."
<<Christ, I'd almost forgotten about the power drain,>> Mike says, exasperated with himself.
-
<<I can't imagine it would be easy to tie himj down and do a memory scan somehow.>> Derrel said. <<What if we used your ship instead of the Skimmer, Illim? I doubt he's messed with that one. Then again, would it be safe to leave the Skimmer here?>>
Claxter noticed Theta leaving, and wanted to follow. However, he wasn't sure he should leave the bar. On the other hand, Ossanlin probably just said keep an eye on the bar to keep them from interfering in the drama with Zorish and Terenia.
<<Efaen, I think I should follow Theta and ensure he is ok.>> Che said. <<I do not think I'll be reprinmanded as long as I avoid Zorish and Terenia. Do you mind if I left you here?>>
-
<<Yeah, we could. Good idea, Derrel,>> Illim says.
"My host has an interesting idea: we could use my ship for communications and scanning since we know it hasn't been tampered with," Illim speaks up from his relaxed position in the co-pilot chair.
<<I doubt they'll wanna dump the Skimmer, though. From what I hear, the rebels scrimp worse than any Jewish grandma,>> he says with a brief external chuckle. <<They'll try to salvage the ship, if possible.>>
-
He nodded at Ewa, "You seem to be doing pretty well for coming from a place with no aliens. Most beings are a bit more shocked by the presence of other life. Unless... this isn't your first time among beings from other planets, is it?" He smiled slyly, "I'd think this bar should count as seeing something else."
"It certainly does," she agreed. Ewa was beginning to feel a warm glow, and while she knew that was a sign she should probably watch what she was drinking, it was much too pleasant a feeling to muddy with such drab things as doubt and discomfort. She was pleased to note that she still had a good third of her glass left. I should keep working on that.
"One of the wonderful things about my time is we can see and talk about aliens all the time, even though we've never really met any. People spend all day reading or writing books, playing games, going to movies, dressing up--just because they're so fascinated with aliens. Or magic. Or tennis. Or anything really, whether or not it's really real. It's all very human of course, there's really no way of getting away from that when all you've got for inspiration is human. But they all try, they really do. And sometimes it's extraordinary.
"So if you're growing up in all that, your whole life, I think it's hard not to believe--even the things you "know" can't be true. If it all is that much a part of your life, it can't really surprise you if one day you wake up and find it's all true."
Ewa looked down at the glass between her hands, slowly rotating it back and forth. I think that's a bit more than I was thinking... It maybe ran away from her near the end and she forgot who she was supposed to be talking about. That's very human too though. And I'm from an alternate universe, she thought proudly.
"Where I'm from Yeerks and Andalites only appear in books. So maybe someone with a bit more hands-on experience ought to explain to me and Van," she chimed in after her first companion commented.
Ogreon bolted around the bar as the cyborg walked out. Then he bolted back in and ran up to Van.
"That was close, knah? Did it do anything to you?"
"Did who do what?" Ewa began scanning the bar more sharply, but she still didn't see anything that looked malicious.... or..... overly malicious.
-
Al listened as Van spoke. "Wait, so you're from a Federation headquartered on Earth? And you two," he said, turning to Ewa and Jasper, "are both from Earth itself." He laughed, "That planet might be an even stronger tie to this place than the Yeerk-Andalite thing."
As Ogreon ran up, Al stuck out his hand and smiled disarmingly, "Hey. I'm Al. Pleased to meet'cha. What, exactly, seems to be the problem? Did who do what?" He finished off both of his drinks, and waved to the bartender for another of the Beryllian one. He was starting to feel tipsy...
As Ewa spoke, he smiled. "You really do paint a good picture of humans in that time period. I've just never taken the time to get really acquainted with them. With so many species and so many beings and cultures and viewpoints and different methods of enjoyment, I guess I've never really taken the time to get to know any one all that well." He winked, "If what you're saying is right, I might like to really get into some older works of literature. I may even start with Earth. But..."
He looked around the table, "Yeerks and Andalites only appearing in books... that's one that I haven't heard here yet. I can't imagine being thrust into a world where things I'd only read about were suddenly as real as you or me." He leaned over and gently prodded Jasper's cheek, then laughed. "Alright, children, gather 'round, I guess it's story time."
"From what I've been able to gather, the Andalites" he indicated Efaen and Claxter, "have been the major influence in this area for a long time. Not too terribly long ago, the Yeerks began to rise as well. They're these little creatures that can control the actions of other intelligent beings by physically... I guess they'd 'squirm' their way inside. They're out to capture and control the bodies of every being in the universe... or something. So they expand, and they keep taking over planet after planet, species after species."
The bartender set his drink in front of him. "Thanks," he said, before continuing, "And the Andalites seem to have taken it on themselves to stop that from happening, so they try to match the Yeerks at every turn, keep their takeover from happening, save the galaxy, the whole shebang. From what I've seen, the Andalites put their best hoof forward, and try to keep up appearances, but it looks like they're losing. Ever since the battle in the Anati system, I get the feeling that it's even more desperate than it seems. They lost their whole main fleet, I think. The Visser in charge of that was heavily rewarded."
"There're stories, though, about some of the planets fighting back. Earth, actually, has one of the best. Apparently a small band of human guerrilla fighters with Andalite technology managed to drive the Yeerks away. Humans and Andalites have started working together since then. Still looks pretty desperate, just going off of what I've seen, but there's still hope."
He looked around the table, "But that's kind of a grim topic." He looked at Jasper, "Is that the same for you? Or are we just a wacky mix here?"
-
Their attention had been stolen from the elephant carving to the conversation by the poke on the face. That was.. odd, but whatever.
Al seemed to be totally disregarding the fact that they were trying to keep a low profile here. Of course, they hadn't explicitly said that they were, but..
<<How do I answer? What do I say?>> Jasper said, somewhat concerned on behalf of his friend. Sapttus seemed a bit more worried, though still in control of his composure.
<<No big deal, I'll handle this.>>
"That's very close, but not quite, the way it's been told in my timeline. For example - "
<<Whoa, whoa, whoa... did he just say 'human' guerrilla fighters?!>> Jasper shouted. <<Do you think ->>
<<Do I think that he has any idea what anything is like in our particular variety of Earth? Not really. Do I think the Andalite Bandits are human? ... I've considered it before, what with so many rumors floating about. But it's just unreasonable. Possible, but not likely.>>
<<Yeah, but... he got everything else right, didn't he?>>
<<That's hardly a fair statement. He's obviously been fed all the Anti-Yeerk propoganda like the rest of the universe. No, I don't agree with many of the things my kind has done, but regardless...>>
<<You don't agree with what he's been taught either, huh?>>
<<I don't. You know as well as I do that the Andalites aren't the heroes they've been made out to be, either. There is nothing black and white about anything regarding our two kinds.>>
Jasper laughed. <<You can say that again.>>
The two had just sat there, unresponsive for a short moment during their little debate. Sapttus blinked, unsure where he'd left off.
"I'm sorry, a ... sudden thought occured to me. But as I was saying..."
<<Um, what *were* we saying?>>
<<Shut up, I'm talking.>>
"Perhaps the main difference between Al's rendition and our reality is the fact that the Yeerks still have a mentionable presence on Earth."
<<Mentionable? Really??>> Jasper said.
"But over all, I think that 'wacky bunch' would be an appropriate label." He says with a grin.
<<Oh, hey... dd you notice this crack on the table? It's so.. weird...>>
<<...No.... I uh.. hadn't.>> Jasper said, not seeing the relevance.
There wasn't any.
-
|OGREON
While he was tlking to Van, Ewa and another being named Al asked what he was referring to.
"Oh, greetings Al. I am Ambassador Ogreon of the Alliance starship Urtahn. I was referring to a cyborg andalite that just left the building. Did he inject any of you with tubules?"
-
"Are we absolutely sure your ship hasn't been tampered with, Illim?" Corliss asks overhead. "I want to make sure my own ship is set to return home without any catches, and that means talking to Salem. Not that the bastard's likely to give a straight answer. Terenia, could you have Mike help you find a way to contact Salem from here? I don't even want to risk you confronting him in person."
-
"Yeah," Terenia says, unclipping Mike's comm link. "What exactly do you want me to say? Like you said, he isn't likely to come clean. I'd feel better if I could have a Dracon on him." She scans through Mike's memories of Corliss' previous confrontation with Salem, snorting in disgust at the trader's slippery arrogance. She doesn't say it out loud, but she would feel better if she could just use a Dracon on him and be done with it.
Her eyes flicker to Illim, "Corliss is right, we have no way of knowing whether your ship has been tampered with too."
<<I will be fine,>> Efaen says to Claxter, her stalk eyes watching him go. A heavy sigh escapes her nose slits. Even the cowardly warrior has left the bar now, and only her orders are standing in the way of her access to the rebellion. Her many fingers drum on the countertop idly as she watches the various patrons. This is foolish, she thinks. Never before had she thought to question a prince's orders, but she still has suspicions as to where Prince Ossanlin's true loyalties were. If she had not only just been reinstated, she may even contemplate going against her orders, as Claxter had. As it were, she had no choice but to remain and listen to conversations that held no interest to her. Her face settles into an expression of frustration as she waits for her Prince to return.
Zorish's eyes flicker nervously to the Skimmer as he waits for Prince Ossanlin to respond to his offer.
-
Claxter left the bar, looking for Theta. He wondered where the cyborg might have gone, and decided to search the treeline.
The controller kept walking towards the bar, eventually passing another controller, and giving a slight not of acknowledgement. Once he entered, he found the place buzzing with various lifeforms. He found a place at the bar, sat in a relaxed position facing the crowd, and ordered some whiskey. As he drank, he took in the scenery.
<<Well, there is that thing you warned Serid about, Illim. I don't suppose Salem could get past that, as he's not a controller.>> Derrel said, remembering the gleet biofilter, but not the name of it.
-
Efaen notes the unknown human take a seat near her. She maintains her current position, staring straight ahead over the bar counter, giving him a once-over with a single stalk eye. Normally she would ignore him entirely, but his Imperial uniform is more than a little disconcerting, and unlike Zorish, she does not recognize this man. Her mind trails back to the Imperials that had attempted to retrieve Terenia when she first went missing, and to the transmission she herself had sent out prior to destroying Terenia's ship.
A nervous hand finds comfort on her Shredder as she watches him. Her tail twitches uneasily. By himself, he is no threat, but one Imperial could mean more to come.
-
The controller notices he's being watched, and gives the Andalite a friendly wave. Wherever he's from, he's either very good at hiding distaste for Andalites, or doesn't see Andalites as an enemy. He also doesn't have a visible weapon on him, and his uniform is too tight to be hiding much.
-
"Have Salem prove to me that every trace of his bizarrely untraceable technology is gone from my ship," Corliss replies. "I can't leave with a trace on the Skimmer. Illim, can you check to see if that weird heat signature is still popping up?"
<<I, uh, reckon I can try to guide you through the comm encryption process,>> Mike offers quietly.
-
Ewa turned her attention back to Ogreon, her brows drawing down in puzzlement. The mechanoid looking Andalite? "He just stood there." She made a vague motion with her hand. "Couldn't have been less threatening." Especially given the standard for that here.
Comforted by the lack of immediate alarm, Ewa propped her chin on her hand and let her head loll slightly to the side. It's strange how much different things look when you just change the angle a bit. She watched Jasper struggle to get a few words out about his Earth. Poor guy. Looks like he's arguing with himself. Must have a lot of issues with his Earth, or what Al was saying maybe.
"'Mentionable presence'?" she asked archly. "Mr. Al here tells us about an interplanetary, interspecies war, and you say that's about the same as your world? I thought you were from Texas." She shakes her head in mock disappointment. Also interesting to do at an angle. Maybe I should try the other way. She switches hands so she can look at him from the other angle. "Are you maybe one of these human guerrilla fighters? I guess this is probably not the best place for that sort of secret to come out."
Looking down at her drink, Ewa was somewhat puzzled to find that her glass was very close to thinking about being empty. She eyed Al's second glass speculatively. Having another one would probably be too much.... if I had the whole thing.... actually maybe I should have some food. When was the last time I had food?
She pulls her gaze up from Al's drink to meet his eyes. "Do you think your friend would mind much if we got something to snack on too? I seem to be lacking your stamina when it comes to these things." She raises her glass in a half-toast.
-
Almost soundlessly a patite human enters wearing a space suit casting nervous glances everywhere at the strange inhabitant he quietly sits down and mutters something about a cheeseburger
((I really dont want to read through this whole thread so I'm gonna ask you guys to help me up to speed))
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin frowns and glances at Serid with a stalk eye. <<Indeed it is an odd place, but do not allow your experiences with Illim to dull your instincts on this matter. This Sub-Visser realizes he's come to this out of the way place without backup and without friends. He's outgunned, perhaps not what he expected, but he's attempting to adapt and salvage his situation before he is incarcerated or destroyed. His offer to drink is merely an attempt at self-preservation, nothing more.>>
Ossanlin gestures again with his Shredder. <Seeing that you're the one who drew your weapon unprovoked and before anyone else, perhaps you should disengage your Dracon's power cell and place it in one of that convenient uniform's pockets hmm?> Ossanlin begins to move back toward the bar, keeping the alternate Tamora and Zorish fully in sight, the Shredder covering the Skimmer now moving to cover the Imperial.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Rathien~
Rathien grimaces a bit behind Salem's back. Of course he'd try every little thing to get under Rathien's skin. Now he had a choice between being left hanging at the bar, or following the 'human' out the door like a wayward puppy. He doesn't bother to speak as Salem leaves and merely sits at the bar for a few seconds before glancing over at the table that the War-Prince had glanced at earlier when mentioning Al. Perhaps this was a time for information-gathering. It seems the least-demeaning of Rathien's options, so he stands, picking up a the barstool as he does so, and heads towards the table in question.
He smiles and sets the stool at one side, looking over the table's occupants before sitting down himself. One of these creatures must be Al. The suited human male still seems the most-likely culprit, but that really didn't mean much when it came to that disturbing artificial construct. There's a human that, given all likelihoods is a controller...a female that looks almost human, and a strange insectoid-looking creature.
"Afternoon mera, mind if I join you?" He looks around the table grinning again, his fangs showing through the wide smile clearly.
-
Illim swings around in the seat, grasping the console to stop his spinning. "Yeah, I'll check on the heat signature," he says. "You're right, there's no way to know if Salem's tampered with it, but I'd be surprised if he knew it was my ship, first of all. And secondly, there's a Gleet Biofilter installed in the doorway, so it wouldn't be impossible for him to bypass it, but difficult."
He sorts through the holoscreen's menus until he comes to the report he's looking for. Squinting, he frowns. "The heat signature is very, very faint. Maybe it's nothing, just a blip. It's hard to tell," he tells Corliss. "But... there's a chance whatever happened to the ship is still in effect."
Serid frowns in return as he turns to follow Ossanlin. <<He is an officer of the Empire; he is certainly different from Illim. I understand that. I believe it remains a valid observation, however, sir, that most individuals of his rank and allegiance would not stoop to dining with an Andalite for any occasion or purpose. Blasphemous as it may sound, we are not the only race with its own sense of honor.>>
He lowers his head, wondering if he has spoken out too much. The War Prince may be unorthodox in some ways, but he certainly would not agree with all of Serid's ideas. He adds, <<The reason I mention this is that it demonstrates he has a higher priority--at least at the moment--than carrying out a microcosm of the war here; he is searching for information, first and foremost.>>
-
((Mod note: Hi BA, just a couple of things--please keep out of character (OOC) thoughts to the GESB: OOC thread, and please read the rules in the OOC thread's first post before beginning. That's located here: http://animorphsforum.com/index.php?topic=6830.0 (http://animorphsforum.com/index.php?topic=6830.0)
You might want to add a bit more description to your character--a petite human in a spacesuit doesn't tell us much; and try to beef up your posts, without using a big run-on sentence. We can help you with that, if you'd like. As for getting you up to speed, we can post where our characters are all situated in the OOC thread. Otherwise have a drink, keep good writing and character development in mind, and enjoy the GESB!))
"Right, forgot you've got a BioFilter in your ship," Corliss muses. "Nice setup for a stolen craft, mate. Hell, if the signal's faint, it could still be anything. I hate this foreign technology, it's insidious. Mike, I know you can hear me, are you all right with getting the comm set up?"
<<Tell him yes, already, Christ,>> Mike urges Terenia.
-
"Yes," Terenia says quickly. "Yeah, Mike says he can help me through it. Shouldn't be...shouldn't be a problem." She glances down at the comm as she moves into the bridge proper, leaving the door to the little pool room open as she goes. Her eyes flicker to the holoscreen that Illim is looking at, but she says nothing out loud.
<<Alright, what do I do?>> she asks Mike. <<Or do you just want me to give you control?>> She marvels for a moment at how strange that is; she never in a million years would have offered to give Efaen back control of her body, but somehow it seems natural with Mike.
Zorish's thin smile twists ever so slightly into a sneer, but he reaches into his holster and pulls his Dracon back out, carefully keeping it pointed at the ground as he takes the weapon apart and removes the power cells. Slipping the cells into a side pocket he replaces the now useless weapon in his holster.
"I hope you can find yourself more comfortable with my presence now, War-Prince," Zorish says, propelling his body into motion towards the bar. "I would not want to get off on the wrong foot. Or would you say wrong hoof?" He smiles faintly at the poor attempt at a joke.
Efaen's shoulders stiffen when the Imperial waves at her, and she quickly memorizes his features in case she would have to relay them to Ossanlin later on. <<This bar is rarely friendly to Imperials, Yeerk,>> she says to him in cold, private thought-speech. <<Do not be surprised if the insignia on your uniform attracts unwanted attention.>>
-
"The Empire owns much of the galaxy. What sort of place is this that wouldn't be friendly to soldiers of the Empire?" He looked efaen over. "I suppose you're not one of us, then? The Empire took the Andalite Homeworld so long ago, but I've heard some of your species escaped infestation."
-
"Afternoon mera, mind if I join you?" He looks around the table grinning again, his fangs showing through the wide smile clearly.
Oooh, pretty, Ewa thought though she felt a tingle down her spine. Some kind of feral elf. She couldn't stop staring at his fangs. Something in the back of her mind was telling her to wake up and watch herself, but that just made it more interesting. This was the one who had been bothering Salem, the ignorant cowboy.
She smiled at the newcomer and propped her chin on both her hands so she could look at him properly. "Hello," she drew out the word cheerfully. "You have a fascinating smile, if you don't mind me saying so. Like staring at a fire. I bet that's why Salem was so uncomfortable with you earlier."
-
The nervous human seems to be trying to hide his face as much as possible. He has very short brown hair with cocasin skin. The spacesuit is a mix of the normal human bulky design and styled with andalite technology to make it sleeker and easier to walk in. Seeing nobody heard him he mutters again slightly louder this time "Can I get a cheeseburger and a coke?"
-
Lucan took a look around and realized that he had made a grave mistake. While talking to Jade he had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. There were now several more beings in the bar and recognized a few humans. The mere sight of them made his spots flash bright green and his blood to boil with rage.
He needed to get out of here, but it would be dishonorable to leave Jade. However when he looked at her Lucan realized that her eyes were glazed and it looked like she was lost in thought. Lucan signaled the bartender over. When the bartender walked over Lucan asked quietly in Gallard "How much do I owe you?" The bartender took out his notepad and wrote an amount down then tore off the paper and handed it to Lucan
Lucan read the amount then dug in his cloak and pulled out a pouch. He reached in and put five gold cylinders, twenty-seven silver pyramids, and thirteen bronze cubes on the table. The bartender put them in his apron and walked back to the bar. Lucan activated the translator in his visor and wrote a note on the back of the paper in English. 'Jade Tear, I am going to go outside for awhile. There are many beings in here that are making me uncomfortable. I did not want to leave without telling you, but I also do not wish to interrupt your thoughts.. I have already paid for the drinks so if you wish to continue talking I will wait.'
Lucan pulled his mask back up again covering the lower part of his face. He stood and quickly walked out of the bar.
-
Seeing that the creature had signaled the bartender the human did the same. When he came over he whispered the order into his ear. The bartender nodded and left to fulfill the order
-
~Ossanlin~
As soon as the Imperial removes the power-cells from his weapon and re-holsters it, Ossanlin holsters his own Shredders, nodding. There might still be some residual charge...enough for a stun shot...or if it was modified there might be an extra hidden power-cell, but then again it could be simple standard-issue. In any case Ossanlin did feel a bit more comfortable.
<Yes well...I may not be overly prejudiced against Yeerks, but I will fight the Empire and its goals until those goals are modified into peacable ones that don't involve the repression and enslavement of myriad innocent beings.> Ossanlin falls in a bit closer with the Imperial, tail swishing over his own back. <So then you claim to have a goal aside from murdering people for a crime which has never happened in your own existence?>
He gestures for Serid to follow. <<I never said that some Imperials weren't intelligent, Warrior. This one obviously knows when he's at a disadvantage and is willing to do whatever is necessary to promote his own preservation.>>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __________
~Rathien~
Rathien smirks at the almost-human female. Had Al taken on a female form this time? If so, this female was of a species that Rathien himself had never seen nor heard of. "You flatter me, kind female. But one should be careful around fire...a being's liable to get burned if he's not." Rathien runs his tongue over his left fang again...the same gesture of desire he'd exhibited while laying the innuendo on Salem. "Let us just say that Tobias and I have a...history. One that does not promote trust."
-
"I did not arrive here with the intent of murdering anyone," Zorish says, his voice brittle. "You have not been a human, so you likely are not aware of how emotional these creatures can become at times. I...momentarily forgot myself." He casts Ossanlin a sidelong glance, keeping cautiously out of tail range. When he reaches the bar he grabs the door and holds it open for the warrior, positioning himself half behind the wood, almost as if it were a shield.
"I came here seeking information," he continues, eying Serid curiously. "I expect I will stay until all of my questions have been answered. That is, of course, assuming my presence is not going to raise any more hackles, hm?"
<Impossible!> Efaen snaps immediately. The idea that the Andalite Homeworld could be seized in any reality is preposterous, and her tail muscles stiffen at the suggestion. <You are lying, Yeerk.>
-
"Have you been living in a bubble, girl? The war had been over for decades. Maybe over a century, even. There isn't even anyone still alive that was personally in the war." He said as he continued to sip his whiskey. Though he was starting to think she might get violent. He didn't really want to start a fight in the crowded place, but this girl was high strung.
"Why don't you calm down? I won't hurt you. You seem tense, though this is the kind of place people can come to relax. What suits your fancy in this place?" He said, gesturing to the bottles of alchohol on the shelf behind the bar.
-
<<I reckon I can walk you through it. You need to make sure the link is encrypted, and I mean, more than the usual amount of encryption,>> Mike explains. <<See that screen there? You need to hold down the icon on the middle left. It says 'security protocol'. Hold it down, and then slide it to the right a little ways, and then down. Illim can help you read it, I only know what a few words look like.>>
-
Al nodded in response to Jasper's words. "Wacky," he mouthed, waving his arms halfheartedly over his head. He then turned to Ogreon and nodded in agreement with Ewa, "Yeah, if anything, he looked a little... dazed, I guess you could say." He smiled at Ewa, "Yeah, get yourself some food. This stuff is strong. Gotta imagine you'll want to take it a little slow."
Before he could say anything else, though, Rathien approached the table and asked if he might join them. Al didn't let his annoyance show. "Of course, pull up a chair, sir. We were just discussing the intricacies of time and space. Nothing big," he said with a grin. Did the hunter know him? He couldn't tell. He might just have gotten lucky with this table. Al had no intention of giving anything away if he didn't have to. He listened to the banter between Ewa and Rathien with a smirk.
"So one or both of you've been burned, then?" he asked the Ildari. "Have a drink with us. This one," he indicated his glass, "only burns in the best way."
-
Mar follows Salem out the door, almost carelessly drifting into the air as he does so. Flight was one of the few powers he still had access to, possibly because it did not involve converting or shifting matter. Salem's ship looked just as bizarre as he remembered, even from here. The technology was certainly nothing Mar recognized, and he had vague memories of several ship types. Even the Beryllian ship looked somewhat familiar.
"Why on Earth do they want you dead where you're from?" said Mar, crossing his arms. "Too many bad deals with too many people? You seem like that type. Or are you carrying something of true value in that absurd craft of yours?"
-
Salem walked towards his ship. He found Mar's floating through the air more than a little distracting, but he did his best to carry on the conversation.
"Where I'm from originally? I guess you could say there are certain people who'd like to see me gone thanks to... we'll call it 'political piracy.' Long story," he rolled his eyes. "The universe I've been spending time in for the last few years tends to have more solid reasoning. The Yeerks have a number of... shall we say 'malfunctions,' and a few deaths, that they attribute to my presence." He smirked, "And the Andalites... the bounty that they actually have out for me says I stole Andalite military secrets and conspired with the enemy. I think they might actually be calling it 'treason,' which means at least the one sending out the message respects me enough to consider me a part of their society. Former part."
As the pair of them neared the craft, the ramp opened, settling to the ground, and Salem began walking into the craft. "Have a look around," he said, waving an arm at the various shelves of random objects. "I've got a bunch of stuff tucked away, too."
-
Efaen's laugh is sharp. <If you came here looking to relax, I fear you chose poorly, Imperial.> She pulls herself up straighter, spine rigid. <Where I am from the Empire would never defeat the Andalites.>
She shifts uneasily, keeping one hand readily on her weapon. <I recommend that you depart at once.>
"Okay, yeah," Terenia says, still feeling overwhelmed by the past few minutes. She swallows, taking in the holoscreen in front of her. Like Mike, she can read bits and pieces of it, and using both his knowledge and her own she is able to make out something close to coherency. "Right," she murmurs, manipulating the icon according to Mike's instructions. "Hey, uh, Illim, I may need some translation help here." She squints at the screen, trying to make sense of the symbols.
-
Ewa felt another stab of unease when the elf responded. He looks like he wants to eat me.... and probably not in a good way. She rubbed her eyes to make herself stop staring. And because they were dry. Still, it was impossible to resist responding. Although Ewa kept rubbing her left eye she pinned him again with her right.
"Or maybe she'll just be momentarily blinded," she teased. She couldn't decide if she liked this new character or if he scared her. My mind isn't working as well as it should, she realized. Ewa had mentioned Salem, but now he was talking about someone else.... "Tobias?"
Realizing that she needed to make food a priority, she waved over the bar tender and asked for a large plate of nachos with everything she could think to put on them.
-
The controller looked at Efaen, trying to figure her out. Eventually he got up, but instead of leaving, he went over to a table where most patrons were sitting. "Hi guys. My name is Jocun. I'm new, and was wondering if I could get some info about this place. That Andalite over there seems to think the Yeerk/Andalite war is still going on, or something."
-
Ogreon had mentioned that he was unsettled by a mechanical creature. Van remembered noticing him, but consider him as much of a cause for concern as the Clangst did. Regardless, shortly after, an elf-like man strode over.
To Van, this man was certainly alarming. He had the appearance of a hunter, albeit, one who preferred native dress. But it wasn't just his manner, or his calculating movements that disturbed Van, it was what he said. He was flirting with Ewa. And that bothered the pirate to no end.
Van abruptly stood up, and leaned rather aggressively on the table towards Rathien, "I advise you not to toy with her, Hunter! Although, I get the feeling your prey is of a... certain sort."
He paused, his voice dropping into a low-pitched growl, "It's Geren-Vanguulsi like you that annoy me so much... You better not be eying her."
Van then leaned back a bit, and made a quick glance at Ogreon as if to say, Look scary, won't you? I need muscle, and this pretty face of mine hasn't got any.
-
~Ossanlin~
<You should be forewarned then that most of the people at this establishment do not err on the Empire's side. I do hope my Warrior did not reveal anything...unfortun ate...when you two had your little private chat out here.> Ossanlin continues walking...he had attempted to get within tail-strike range, but the justifiably paranoid Imperial had skirted further away. <And it seems you assume too much.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _____________
~Rathien~
Rathien glances at the well-dressed male and smirks a bit. "You could say that, wouldn't happen to know anything about it would you?"
He moves his eyes back to Ewa as she speaks. "Hmmm....you are an engaging specimen if I do say so myself. There are many who do not...appreciate... my reality, but you seem intrigued...you are rather intriguing yourself." He closes his mouth, still smiling, but close-lipped so as to hide his tongue as it runs over his fang. Some would find it vulgar and though he doesn't much care about what other people think, he generally does what he believes to be necessary to get what he wants. "If I may ask, what species are y...." His speech is interrupted by another at the table.
He glances over at the new speaker and raises an eyebrow, falling silent for a few seconds before speaking again. "I didn't realize she was spoken for...or are you jealous because you think I should be interested in you instead?" The man was, for lack of a better word, pretty. Oh yes...this bar had lots of potential. Not only a veritable gold-mine of bountied heads, but the makings of a fyre** as well. He smirks at Van. "No need to be jealous, I have enough to go around."
He glances back at Ewa. "Some individuals just don't know how to be civil." He grins wide again baring his fangs as if to make an ironic mockery of his own statement.
**fyre has a deep history in Rathien's language as do all words and it hasn't always meant what it means now. The word can also mean many different things depending upon context, but in this case it is used to describe (amongst other things) a location or public forum where individuals go to meet other individuals and engage in certain sorts of...behavior....on his home planet, though it is not the same as a brothel as there is no prostitution involved.
-
Illim orders the ship's computer to run a more detailed analysis of the heat signature, leaning back in the co-pilot seat and swinging idly back and forth as he waits for the output. "Yeah, I put the BioFilter in, myself. That was my job with the Empire: creating new ones and installing them in Pool entrances and ships. The ship I stole--it's a nice one," he tells Corliss. "Only big enough for two humans, but it's a zippy little thing. Madra class. Top of the line, brand new." He smiles as proudly as he would if he had bought it.
Following Ossanlin's example, Serid also holsters his Shredder. Every time Zorish glances at him, he gives a bland, business-like stare in return.
<<I understand and agree, sir,>> the nothlit responds to Ossanlin, falling silent in order to hear Zorish's response to the Andalite's prompting about Claxter. The conversation had worried him, too, from the start.
-
No one was responding to Jocun, so he figured they were just too involved in their own conversation. He excused himself, and went to find another place to sit. He found a spot where he could watch the whole bar without being too close to anyone, and noticed the other Andalite about to come through. Knowing he probably wasn't a controller for some reason either made him a little bit nervous. He had never met an uninfested Andalite, and honestly didn't know what to make of them.
-
Zorish tilts his head, smile in place. "Ah well, a Yeerk can hope," he says wryly, letting the door swing shut behind him after Serid mades his way through. "As far as your warrior is concerned, he was insistent on offering advice, but nothing more. Talkative little warrior, struck me as a bit cowardly, if I must be honest. Or perhaps just naive."
Inside the bar it is harder to keep distance between himself and the Andalite, but Zorish does not let his unease show. Putting on his best Sub-Visser swagger he sidles past Serid and Ossanlin and makes his way to the bar.
"I'll have a Scotch and water, and whatever those two want," he jerks Tamora's thumb back towards his escorts, "on my tab. Better give it to them directly, I doubt they trust me not to poison them."
<<Zorish,>> Tamora cuts in, her thoughts confused. <<What are you doing?>>
<<Getting information, like I said,>> Zorish responds simply, taking his beverage and moving to a table. He gestures for Ossanlin and Serid to join him.
<<From an Andalite?>>
Zorish shrugs outwardly. <<If he were going to lop my head off, it would already be rolling across the ground.>>
Efaen notices Ossanlin's return to the bar and relaxes noticeably. <<My Prince, a new patron has arrived in your absence. An Imperial who claims to be from a place where the Yeerks have won the war. I thought it best not to engage in conversation.>> She hesitates. <<May I have your leave to return to my previous mission?>> She is eager to speak with Corliss. With luck his mood will have improved since he stomped out of the bar.
-
Al laughed in response to Rathien, "D'you want me to tell you the story between you and him? I could probably make up something decent."
A man in an imperial uniform walked over and asked questions, but before Al could answer, Van all but blew up at Rathien. He hadn't realized the Beryllian was sweet on Ewa. Rathien's response made him roll his eyes. Al might have said the same kind of thing in that situation, but Rathien somehow managed to make it seem... almost threatening. Or mayby that was just his bias talking.
With a sigh, he turned back to the imperial, only to find him already walking away. Maybe the table was a bit too loud for him. Al certainly felt it was becoming a bit too crowded, now that Rathien had arrived.
-
Jocun noticed the other Imperial once again, and was tempted to speak with him, but he seemed involved with the Andalite and other Human seeming being. He could sense tension there, and thought it best to just watch.
-
When Van had stood up to warn off the elf, Ewa had been convinced that she had underestimated the threat he represented. Fooled by a pretty face. But neither Al nor Jasper seemed concerned, which more or less left her back in the same frame of mind she had started. Is Van actually that interested? I thought he was just flirting.
"I didn't realize she was spoken for...or are you jealous because you think I should be interested in you instead?" The man was, for lack of a better word, pretty. Oh yes...this bar had lots of potential. Not only a veritable gold-mine of bountied heads, but the makings of a fyre** as well. He smirks at Van. "No need to be jealous, I have enough to go around."
He glances back at Ewa. "Some individuals just don't know how to be civil." He grins wide again baring his fangs as if to make an ironic mockery of his own statement.
She has to smile, imagining Van and the elf as a couple. Van would never agree, but they'd be the envy of every woman to come through this place. Ewa's eyes glazed over for a moment as her mind went places it really had no business going. Van clearly still had his back up though, and she didn't want this turning into a serious confrontation.
"Well, the civil thing to do," Ewa said as she placed a possessive hand on Van's shoulder, "would be to share. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm feeling quite that civil at the moment. You'll have to ask me again later if you still want him." Part of the grin she was trying to contain slipped out as a saucy smile.
Just then, her nachos arrived in a huge pile of melty and meaty goodness. Thank god, she thought as she began working on them. She'd been getting ridiculously hungry in the past couple of minutes. "Feel free to have some, if you want," she invited the table at large between bites.
"Actually," she turned her attention back to the elf, "I haven't caught your name yet. I'm Ewa. What is it you're doing here?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin does his best to retain an impassive face. He might be open-minded about Yeerks, but that never stopped his typical andalite attitude from resurfacing around Imperials. <Your hopes are ill-placed Imperial.> Ossanlin does his best not to sneer as he says "Imperial". <The only reason I haven't detained you is for the fact that in my reality, you're supposed to be dead. Tampering with other timelines is something no one should do.> Of course there are other reasons that he doesn't detain the controller, but he would not give the Imperial any more information than necessary.
He nods in Efaen's direction. <<Proceed.>> Then sends a private thought to Serid. <<You are at ease again Warrior.>> The phrase conveying that the Warrior is no longer under standing orders.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________
~Rathien~
Rathien glances at Al again, the wide grin turning into a self-assured smirk. "No, no, you don't need to make anything up. But I'm rather certain that someone at this table...or rather something wouldn't need to." He watches Al's reaction before turning his eyes back on Ewa.
He listens to the humanoid female as she speaks, watching her lay a hand on the pretty-boy. His grin takes on a softer cast as her features change...obviously she'd thought about something...and this talk of sharing... His smile widens again as the nachos arrive. "Sounds delicious...don't mind if I do." He reaches across the table and grasps a 'nacho' as if his previous statement had been regarding the food, though he had clearly been responding to Ewa's idea of a 'civil' interaction. He looks the pretty-boy over again, noting the shape of his body with slightly aggressive eyes...it was always more fun when they pretended to fight. He glances back at Ewa again...yes...a "civil" interaction with those two would be a lovely distraction. "Forgive me for..." he pauses a moment, glancing back over at Van before once again returning his eyes to Ewa. "...staring."
"My name..." He chuckles a bit. "Currently my True Name is Rathien'd'ilarianiil fen'Mirwindrierien or'Elienal sen'Ildiar. Most choose to refer to me as Mirwind, but those who know me closely call me Rathien." He smiles warmly this time...if he was going to make this work, it was going to take time. Perhaps a little reminder of his feral nature might not be amiss though. "Or if you'd prefer to use the closest litteral translation of my Near Name, you could call me 'wolf of wind' or 'wind wolf' if you should so desire." He ****s an eyebrow as he places the strange dried bread smothered with meat and cheese daintily in his mouth. He doesn't provide the table with the true contextual translation of his name as his clan had meant it. 'Ravening wolf' was much less desirable, and indeed it was meant in a derogatory fashion when spoken by his people. But it was also true that his name could be translated as 'wolf of wind'...so why not? He swallows the 'nacho' as he continues his eye-contact with Ewa.
-
Zorish's smile widens as he pulls out a chair and takes a seat. "Whatever your reasons, Andalite, it is comforting to know that my death may destroy your present. Now, are you willing to put aside pettiness and join me in a drink, or will you insist on glaring at me from across the room and twitching that rather impressive blade of yours?"
<<Zorish...stop. You're provoking him.>>
<<He won't hurt me,>> Zorish says. <<If he does, he might unravel time itself.>>
Efaen nods her stalks and eagerly leaves the bar counter. She is careful to give her Prince a wide berth as she makes her way out of the bar, leaving him to his business with the disturbing Terenia look-alike. As she passes the newest Imperial to join the bar she cannot help but watch him suspiciously, waiting for him to act out in typical Imperial style.
"Will you stop talking about your stupid ships and help me?" Terenia snaps irritably at both Corliss and Illim. "Now what do I do?"
-
Jocun watched the girl leave, and turned his attention to the other Andalite and the Imperial. He got up to sit near the other controller. "His there. Name's Jocun. We seem to be the only Imperials here, or at least in uniform. I think this may be a strange place, seeing Andalites that aren't infested. Have you been here long?"
-
This man... was rather adept at getting on Van's nerves. But he, like Van, was open to anything. Flirting with women... and men, even. Oh what pleasure it was, were it not for the fact that Van enjoyed at least a little more control in his relationships. This stranger was certainly used to, and skilled at, stringing his prey -lovers, or whatever they were to him- along.
"Civil? I'm a pirate. Civility doesn't always come first for me."
A bowl of food was eventually served, and Ewa made a good point- a wonderful point. Van relaxed and sat down beside her as she curled his arm around his shoulders.
"Mmm, chaa. Sharing could work, baht you're much too good to give up," he purred, his accent softly lilting off his tongue. Maybe this wasn't so bad. Tension, tension always seemed to draw the women closer to him. Having a a sweetly inviting appearance was a huge advantage for him.
The newcomer had stared at him, but only for a moment, before his gaze flicked back to Ewa, and introduced himself in a flurry of words. The fluid formality and extravagance of his name reminded Van a little too much of home. It rang out like a word, with a hint of musicality and rhythm.
Wolf wind? Ravenous wolf wind? Who'd have bet? That's one hell an accurate name.
"Mirwind-zhenge, then, is it? I hope you don't mind that," Van said, with a grin, "It's an honorific, you see."
He reached again into the bowl, and playfully twirlled another meat-laden chip to his mouth. Smug, smug as ever. How can Van not be smug with a hot chick at his side, coyly giving him all her attention?
It is much better not tell him what the honorific means. It sounds pretty, I guess, to a Human. It's a little like calling someone a moron and then some, to a Beryllian. That "then some" being... Ah, what was it? Isn't there an equivalent term for that parasitic slimeball who steals away your women in Common? No? Hm, I must be mistaken. Ah, well. Whatever. You parasite.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin chuckles mirthlessly. <Oh I have no intention of keeping this 'impressive blade' out of range of your host's vitals.> He trots up to the bar next to Zorish and signals for another mint-infused water. <It would be best for yourself...and for all of us if you simply boarded your craft and went back to your own reality.>
-
"Perhaps," Zorish allows, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his drink. A sigh of contentment escapes his host's mouth at the burning sensation the liquor creates. "But how, then, would I get the information that I seek?" His tell-tale smile falters slightly when another Imperial he had not noticed before plops down in one of the chairs.
"Jocun," Zorish repeats the Imperials name tightly. "I am Sub-Visser Twenty-Eight and no, I have not been here long." He chooses to use his designation rather than his actual name, irritated by the fact that the Controller jumped into his conversation so easily. Gesturing at Ossanlin with a thumb he continues, "You may have noticed from this grass-eater's expression that most Andalites are not infested in this place. You might exercise some caution in who you address, lest you lose your head."
Turning back to Ossanlin, Zorish forces his expression back into one of strained congeniality. "So, War-Prince. While you are eying my vitals so eagerly, why don't you tell me how you happened upon this establishment?"
-
Mar floats lightly into Salem's shift, his eyes glowing red as he attempts to aura-search the place. If something in Salem's ship was touched by another Dark side Highest, there's no way Mar could miss it. Such objects have odd effects on the mortal and benefit some immortals. The problem, Mar discerns, is that there's too much stuff on Salem's ship. In his limited state it's actually confusing him. Mar holds his head irritably.
"Lead me to the place where you keep your wares," mutters Mar. "I can't seem to tell from here. Much to my...chagrin. Exactly what on Earth do you carry around with you on a daily basis?"
-
Rathien chuckles, looking down at the plate of nachos. "Ah, zhon. I should've known from that outfit, and if not that then from your behavior." He looks up at Van, making eye-contact this time, his grin still showing fangs. "You can call me whatever you want in your native language, pirate...it makes little difference to me. i would simply advise you not to be quite so...self-assured, chaa." He ****s his head sideways, using this time to look the Beryllian over again, eyes resting at certain points on his body quite obviously before returning to gaze at Ewa again.
-
The Sub-Visser seemed annoyed that he was there, even though they might be the only two Imperials on the rock. He wasn't phased, though. "That's too bad, Sub-Visser. Hopefully we'll both find what we seek here. This is either a crazyhouse, or I've stumbled on something very strange." He didn't move out of earshot, and continued drinking while waiting for the Andalite to speak. He seemed like a high ranking individual, and may even be the guy in charge around here if it wasn't the stone faced bartender.
-
Van took another glance at the silver-haired man, in an expression that quickly went from slight shock, to a simmering resentment. The pronunciation was off, not quite standard Beryllian, but it was a sort that bothered the pirate. Despite that, suddenly, the hunter's pursuit of Ewa was not entirely unjustified.
Women were rare where he was from, you could chalk it up to the uneven ratio of males to females born naturally. Beryllians have had a long history of intense confrontations between men in pursuit of a woman, and sexual deviation towards male partners was thus not entirely uncommon, just a last resort. Van's rather playful pursuit of women, and sometimes men, was frowned upon by mainstream Beryllians, but once outside their culture, his behavior could hardly be blamed.
Ewa seemed like, in all respects, another member of his race. She could alter her appearance so quickly, so easily, and preferred eclectic blends of color in her hair. It was like she was one of his own kind, from some distinct future where they had no strife, no problems, could alter anything they wished.
But she didn't have the distinct aural "scent" of a female Beryllian, which was the only thing that gave her away as not being one. It was sad, but not entirely unsurprising.
Rathien, meanwhile, was another matter altogether. His hair was detectably silver-white at a first glance, but upon closer inspection, it was pale blue, and then seemed to trail down to gray, then white. Van blinked, figuring it was a trick of the eyes. Rathien's eyes were blue, but glimmered oddly. Not "human lineage blue" like Van's eyes. And those fangs of his! Van found them creepy to look at.
Worst of all, his language sounded familiar, yet foreign. Almost like a dialect of some kind, from somewhere far away. With the appearance of a Mar-not-Mar, and now this guy, Van felt strongly at unease.
I get it. They're here, too. Hunting me. I don't know where this guy's from, but visht! Why would it matter?! What do They want with me?!
Van furrowed his brow, and concluded that Rathien wasn't just here to flirt. He had an agenda, perhaps multiple agendas. And the man's statement bothered him...
"Nichaa, I suppose I was on the bit... just a bit... Jumped the gun," he finally answered. Van closed his eyes, and measured his circumstances. Not good. How was he supposed to respond, now?!
He paused, and his accent switched, "Nan gi... Gabo... Reves ars Alvo Regares-de nani sichaaa, senme Shinze-nen nange. Nande vangulnen sichaaa?" (This moment... um... This moment, the Lords of Regares (Hegemony) have sent a Messenger, I believe. This is why you are here now?)
Van looked down, calmly. This was a situation he would have to comply with. The Oligarchy was one thing, the Hegemony, another.
The sudden change to his accent was a bizarre, but not subtle shift. His voice rippled like a river, and the nasal quality disappeared. At first he sounded rusty, but then it flowed. Flowed like music. The ends of his sentences trailed off, vowels rising like a melody. This sound was something he grew up with, a sound he heard all the time. It was the commonly accepted way of speaking among his people.
"When vese, vangul-ni zhon sichii: Nande Alvregne-rhen, haaaa?" (Please, correct this idiot person: are you, or are you not a Lord of the Hegemony, yes?)
Van paused. This was embarrassing. Highly embarrassing. He didn't know any of them by name, and he could be one of them. One of those blasted Lords, if he was one, would be the worst thing to show up so suddenly. Van hated the idea of having to kowtow to anyone, but the sheer power of these individuals... It was higher than anything he knew. Something he knew he couldn't fight.
And, it was this weakness that bothered the Pirate most of all.
-
"Mirwind then," Ewa settled on a name. "Wind Wolf is rather poetic, and it does suit you, but I'm afraid it might sound like a bit of a pet name. And I'm sure you'd never be anyone's pet. How is it though," she tilts her head curiously, "that you have a current True Name? Does it change?"
She sacrificed some of the poise she had been maintaining through the banter to continue to fill herself full of nachos. Now that she was getting past her initial pains of hunger she noticed that the nachos tasted a little strange. First the tomatoes and now the nachos. Whoever's supplying food for this scape must also be undertrained.
Ewa felt a flicker of annoyance when Van claimed her arm and wrapped it about his shoulders. I give you an inch, she thought to herself. And Mirwind was still focusing on her and this sharing... even now that she wasn't feeling her drink so much, he was hard to look away from. Especially when he very much looked like he was imagining he had something other than a nacho in his mouth. I try to diffuse the situation and you two just don't know how to stop. Al, Jasper, and Ogreon had been silent for a long time. Whether out of boredom or intimidation, she couldn't tell. After a few moments, she pulled her arm back, though she pinched Van's earlobe in parting--part reproof and part affection.
An exchange later, Van suddenly switched languages. Ewa had no idea what he was saying, but though the language itself was beautiful, Van himself seemed acutely uncomfortable and worried. And focused on Mirwind. Maybe these two have some shared history after all....
-
Salem laughed, "This ship has everything. I don't have a home besides this. The stuff I carry with me is everything I own. If one of my bits of junk has what you're looking for, it's here." He gently caressed the wall, causing drawers and compartments to open all around the ship, each one stuffed with a random collection of alien objects. Some of the compartments were even reasonably well organized. The entire front wall slid open to reveal a rack of what were weapons from dozens of civilizations. A large compartment near the rear of the ship held the large cylinder he'd shown Jasper and Sapptus- the ZFD Alchemist Device. Salem looked around the ship with pride- it'd been a while since he'd taken the time to view his whole collection. It could probably use some organizing at some point... but for now, all the possessions from all the places he'd been... it had been a long, long road so far.
He turned to Mar and grinned, "Search away, highest. If you want, I could just give you the history of the immortals from my universe as well. I should have some of it available on the computer."
Al gave Rathien his best bemused smirk in response to his assertion that 'something' wouldn't need to make something up. "What are you on about, sir?" Luckily, Rathien got drawn more into his conversation with Van over Ewa. Al sighed and sat back to listen. There were so many things he could have said, would loved to have said, but he couldn't, not with Rathien apparently still clueless to his identity. Al really did not like this hunter. He was severely cramping his style. For now, he just continued to watch the conversation, bored.
-
Serid gives Ossanlin a respectful nod and settles in a chair on the near side of the next table over, giving the two space while being ready to assist if needed. He ignores Zorish's invitation to have a drink, choosing instead to observe their conversation from half a dozen feet away.
When the Imperial who identifies himself as Jocun approaches Ossanlin and Zorish, Serid fingers the edge of his weapon to ensure it is readily accessible.
Illim heaves a sigh and grips the armrest, shoving himself out of the chair. "Alright, what's stumping you?" he asks, leaning over Mike's shoulder, peering at the holoscreen.
-
Lucan decided to go to his ship and feed Ace. His ship was a very unique craft and had significance on his home planet. It had the shape of a giant bird with its wings swept forward. The predatory bird on Fringe, the Koltan had been Lucans’ inspiration for his ship. The wide forward-swept wings were a deep, dark green in color. Its body was a deep dark blood red in color. The head was bright gold in color and housed the c.ockpit.
It was powered by three Ludak T-9000 engines and had the ability to make .7 in hyperspace. He had installed two Nukul scram jets under the tip of each wing allowing him to flip the ship 180 degrees to face backwards along his flight path, but maintain his forward momentum. This had saved him several times in his smuggling past.
His weapons systems included two double laser cannons at the end of each wing. He also had two cruise torpedo launchers on the end of each wing. In the rear of the ship he had installed a double laser cannon and two concealed cruise torpedo launchers.
The ship stood on its engines and made it seem as if the bird was balancing on it's tail. A staircase extended down and Lucan climbed it. When he entered the ship he rotated 90 degrees to walk on the floor. He had long ago gotten used to the gravity shift the grav generator caused.
While he was walking to his quarters the intercom activated. A message from his sister on his home planet began transmitting. 'Pnudran oui sicd lusa rusa essateydamo. Vydran ec jano emm yht ra fecrac du cbayg fedr oui.' Lucan ran to the c.ockpit and began takeoff procedures. The ship blasted off for space quickly and was in hyperspace in mere moments.
*****************************************************************************************************
The air near the forest began to shimmer as if heated. A soft blue light appeared and began to expand. A human male practically fell through the portal. He considered just lying there and let death take him, but his resolve would not allow him to survive the h.ellish battle he just went through to die like this. His face, his chest, his arms, his legs were covered in deep slashes. He was losing blood quickly and he needed a healer soon or he would die.
He looked up and saw a building no more than thirty feet away. With the last of his strength he forced himself to get to the building without falling. He opened the door and stepped into the building. The blood stains on his leather vest and pants reflected dimly in what light there was. His wounds bleeding freely were impossible to miss.
When he spoke his voice was raspy and barely audible. It was clear he was near death. "I...I need...a...a...a hea...healer." At this point he lost consciousness and fell to the ground with a crash.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin glances at the other Imperial quickly...this must be the one Efaen had mentioned. From a different time and a different reality apparently...from a different reality than his own he hopes. He returns his main eyes to Tamora. <And why should you seek information regarding a reality that has nothing to do with your own, hmm?>
He smiles. <Oh well I was flying in a ship and landed here.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Rathien~
Rathien chuckles and closes his eyes as he listens to Van speak. He hadn't heard the language spoken so fluently for some time. For a moment he's tempted to feign being one of the true Hegemon, but he immediately files it away as a bad idea. Trying to speak Beryllian would most-likely immediately betray his weakness for the language. He could sound it out, but he would undoubtedly make glaring grammatical errors if nothing else. He hadn't had to speak the language for a good ten years. Perhaps the truth would be even more effective than that though...besides, the truth was stranger than fiction really.
"No one has sent a messenger...chaa...in fact I didn't even know you were Beryillian until just now. It seems my powers of observation were a bit...distracted." He glances at Ewa before looking back at Van. "And your hair is not...correct, no offense meant."
"As for being a Hegemon...gabo...I suppose I am, technically." Rathien grins, showing his fangs again. "I wasn't born Beryllian mind you, but I'm partially Beryllian now...in a way." He ****s his head sideways. "The people of Beryllia-Rylus were kind enough to modify certain...genes...o f mine to pull off a contract. Mainly those concerning my hair." Rathien reaches a hand back to sift through his pony-tail. "The color-change was subtle given that the manipulation was done after the fact, but it was enough to fool other Beryllians into thinking I'd been born from a distant hybrid." Rathien found himself falling back into the mannerisms he'd learned and adopted for that contract. Nearly a year he'd lived as a Beryllian citizen. He was telling the story for one reason, it had been one of the most significant moments of his career and he felt the details deserved to be shared, especially to an interested party.
"See, the people of the Rylus colony didn't much care for their "overseer". Such is the case with most overbearing, cruel dictators. A resistance group pooled resources to hire a contract on his head. Of course he was a difficult target and no self-respecting bounty-collector was willing to work for as little as the group offered. However, one of their potential employees directed them to me. You see, I Hunt for different reasons. I agreed to kill the man." Rathien relives the moments in his head as he tells them to Van.
"Now the people didn't know he was a Hegemon and neither did I, until I did some digging on him and too many things didn't quite...gabo...add up. Needless to say I eventually found out he was a member of the Hegemony...my job was much tougher than originally thought...I relished it. I befriended the man...it wasn't easy let me tell you. He was more paranoid than a Hunter seeking the "Dream-ender". But with my contacts in the resistance group as well as a few "friends" I made, I was able to work my way into his establishment."
"Viran was charismatic, young, energetic....attrac tive. He was also cruel, manipulative, and expoloitive as far as his people were concerned. We became...lovers. And I do believe he enjoyed my company as more than just a last resort. That's not saying he necessarily preferred males, though he might've...I just seem to have that effect on people. I'm very...skilled...in many things." Rathien's grin goes from nostalgic to suggestive. "I became his confidant. In fact, we were good friends as well. Of course the time came for me to fulfill the contract and so I did."
"You see...I killed a member of the HegemonyRathien's wide, fang-bearing grin returns. "I collected my bounty and left the planet, thinking little more of it. No more than three days after Viran's death, I was contacted by a messenger of the Hegemony. Apparently when you're used to being invincible, seeing one of your comrades killed shakes you up just a bit. I believe they may have been worried about my coming after the rest of them. It was, chaa a politicians answer, instead of devoting their resources to hunting me down, they offered me Viran's place on the Hegemony." Rathien ****s an eyebrow at Van. "I accepted the offer. Technically I could take control of Rylus, amongst several other star-systems, any time I wanted. I could demand power, and I'd receive it. So yes, indeed I am a Hegemon, I'm simply choosing not to exercise all of my resources at present." Rathien smirks at Van before turning to look at Ewa again.
"Yes actually, my species' True Name can change at any given moment. Certain portions of it are unalterable, but others change depending upon where I am, or whether or not my family falls out of favor in the clan." Rathien again smiles warmly. "I haven't been in contact with my clan for some time now, so I suppose I could be giving you the wrong name as it were. And a lovely female such as yourself may call me Rathien, I don't mind." Rathien's warm smile takes on an edge of suggestiveness again as he 'accidentally' reaches for the same nacho as Ewa and touches her hand. "Oh...forgive me." He moves the hand to a nacho closer to his side of the plate.
-
"You see, I Hunt for different reasons. I agreed to kill the man."
<<Whoa, whoa, what?!>> Jasper said. He'd been rather dedicated to working on his little walnut-wood elephant for the past several minutes, paying hardly any attention to the table around him. But that line had certainly set off a couple bells. He did a double-take of sorts, quickly looking up at the man who'd appeared at the table -the man who'd been causing a bit of a seen with Salem, - before forcing his eyes back to his carving work. Not that he was carving anymore. He was listening in to the murder story.
This man, whoever - whatever - he was, had befriended a leader-figure of some sort, to quite an uh... dedicated extent, then killed him, and was now sitting bragging softly of the power he had gained from the deal. The look he gave Ms. Ewa sitting next to him unnerved him. This man was a killer, apparently a rather 'friendly' one, who was now looking at the lady to his right. What dastardly scheme did he have planned now?
They both just sat there, stunned, unsure of how to respond. Was it safe to get up and excuse themselves?
-
An assassin, Ewa thought as she listened to Mirwind's story. A reckless assassin who's good enough to still be alive... and very possibly kills most of his lovers. She let herself shudder slightly. In the end though, she wasn't sure how much she believed him... clearly this Hegemony scared Van like almost nothing else, which said a good deal for their power given the pirate's general mocking disdain of pretty much any other governing body he'd mentioned. People with that much power would investigate Mirwind though. They'd have known that he took the job more for the thrill than the money. So they should have known offering him power would not protect them if he decided to go after them.
But where was the lie? Are you trying to make us think you're more reckless than you really are, or are you hiding from the Hegemony yourself? she wondered.
Distracted by her thoughts, she didn't even notice herself continuing to reach for the nacho plate until Mirwind's hand brushed over her own. She kept herself from immediately looking in his eyes and betraying the effect she felt only with great effort. Ewa had used that sort of technique before herself and it was as much about gaining the upper hand as increasing intimacy. I'm going to need more fire myself, to continue to match him in this. I can't start fearing him.
"Rathien," she accepted the more intimate name and caressed it as if it actually gave her some sort of power over him. "If I don't forgive you, do you promise to try that again? After hearing your boasts, I can't help but think you weren't putting your full effort into it." She glanced around as if distracted, the tip of her tongue flitting to the corner of her mouth. "Maybe I should--"
It was then that someone came through the bar and fell over in a bloody heap. Seeing no immediate reaction from anyone else, Ewa assumed that whoever it was was not a casualty of an ongoing fight and quickly left her chair to help.
"Is there a doctor in here?" she called out. When she got closer she gasped, unintentionally, at the sight of his wounds. These are real.... by all that's good.... real.... even Van wasn't damaged this badly. Who would agree to this? He could die. REALLY die. She still had strips of bandages in her coat, but they were useless for untreated gashes of this size. "These need to be closed," she calls back over her shoulder. "Does anyone have thread or glue" or unimprinted supplements "or anything? Al?" It was always best to single someone out when you needed help, and he seemed the most knowledgeable about this place. Ewa was too focused on trying to slow the blood flow to actually look back though.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien feels Ewa withdraw from him even though she puts on a show of not doing so. Being slightly Empathic had it's advantages too. His pointed ears perk at the sound of a newcomer and he follows Ewa's movements with his eyes. She thought he was boasting... Well he couldn't expect her to truly know him after all. He had merely told the story to explain how he'd become a Lord of the Hegemony, though he only held the position in technicality. He hadn't exercised any of the power they'd given him, so they probably thought him dead. He smiles to himself as he stands...she had seen one thing correctly though. The Hegemony thought they'd bought him, that they'd stopped some glorious assassination attempt, but of course they hadn't. He didn't Hunt for money or power, he Hunted to Hunt. He had no plans to destroy any of them, but they were no safer than anyone else even now. He looks around the table as Ewa mentions "Al"...so the Andalite had been right.
He stands and walks over to Ewa, stepping up to the injured man and kneeling next to him. "These are strange wounds...not made by any kind of energy weapon that I'm familiar with." Helping this man might earn some compassion from Ewa, and perhaps he could right some of her misinterpretations. He pulls a vial of synthetic adrenaline and endorphine from his belt-kit, along with a micro dermal mender, a toy he'd picked up from a facility on Deeves 9...they had had so many that they probably hadn't even missed it.
"If there are internal injuries, there's little I can do." Rathien switches the handy little device to its surgical laser...one could never be too prepared to stop bleeding or knit skin in his line of work. "Field surgery can only do so much."
Rathien begins with the worst-looking injuries, cauterizing any bleeding veins and vessels with the low-intensity laser. He hums and then begins to speak as he works, not taking his eyes from the strange being on the floor. "I do hope you didn't get the wrong impression of me, Ewa. I destroyed Viran because I was contracted to do so, and because it was his time to die. Whether you believe me or not, I am an arbiter of Fate. I can...sense...when someone's Dream is supposed to end...when it comes near to that time anyway. I carry out Her will."
Once Rathien is satisfied that the bleeding from the visible injuries is under control, he switches the device back to its mender setting and begins knitting the being's skin. All this for a possible rendezvous with a female and her lover...so very worth it if it pays off though. "I do not sense that this man's Dream is nearing its end. I will admit that I do not live a...civilized...lif e. But you'd be surprised at what I'm capable of." This time he takes his eyes off the wounds for a moment to look at Ewa, smiling a bit. He looks back down and continues his methodical work, knitting skin. "I can be a very warm individual when I want to be."
Satisfied that most of the wounds are knitted enough not to be gaping anymore, he takes the vial of adrenaline and punches it into the back of the dermal mender. He puts the device up to the being's neck and injects a small dosage, about half of what he would administer to himself in a similar situation, baring his fangs in a grimace as the device pierces the being's neck. "Hopefully this will cause him to regain consciousness and take an edge off of the pain, if not I can give him a bit more...but if his Dream is truly to continue, he needs attention from a medical station."
-
An assassin, a "Dream-ender", as he called himself. The Hunter's preference to speak Common certainly supported his tale, as he sounded unused to Standard Beryllian. Van understood; the vibrato was often too tricky to deal with, and the dialects too many.
But, his story was the more compelling deal, and it was one of love and gruesome betrayal, not unlike the many illicit liasons performed by Oligarchs back home. Unsurprising, but Van had always thought the Hegemony was above that sort of thing. That they would know a problem as soon as it stepped among their ranks...
Unless, like the masterminds they tended to be, they rather enjoyed having someone who would so willingly and cleanly kill Viran. It wasn't above them, and such weaknesses were just covers for their games. They were holders of power, and loved the control they had...
If this Mirwind-Rathien was their stabilizing force, then it was a dangerous game indeed they were playing. The man was clearly threatening on all the levels Van knew, but the Hegemony was a shadowy force, a political organization of chessmasters. Chessmasters so old, they were less like individuals, and more an example of dictatorial groupthink. Thus, the Hegemony.
The Hunter was no true Hegemon, a false Lord allowed his place, quite like how Van was a false heir to his family. And, unlike Van, all the pieces fell in just the right order. But Van considered himself lucky to be free of the chains of power, and he had less reason to fear than he thought. And, poor Mar-Not-Mar! Even though the Hunter was a Lord of dubious claim, the title was still higher than that of the leading Oligarch.
Van wasn't sure what to say, but thankfully, Ewa set the pace. He had to admire her confidence. Van smiled to himself, and thought, You know, I really can learn a thing or two from this girl. Lucky I ran into her, I suppose. I can't let myself freak out over this guy.. I just can't. He may be here, but what proof is there that the Hegemony is chasing me? None!
In fact, I'm not entirely unsure whether or not they are watching him, too. Everyone exaggerates. It's a Beryllian thing. Maybe he's worse off than even I! At least nobody cares about this failed invasion of ours....
Quite suddenly, a newcomer stumbled into the Bar. The sudden aural stench of near-morbidity stung Van's senses, and made him feel rather ill. Oh, how lucky Rathien was to be able to stand it! Ewa wasn't among their kind so while it repulsed her, it didn't surprise her nearly as much as it did Van. He was so used to cleaner wounds, really...
-
Jocun noticed the Humanoid with the Andalite looked tense as well. Would it even matter if he changed clothes? They knew he was Imperial. Though it might help if they didn't have a constant reminder of it. He got up, leaving his drink to save his seat, and went into the back room of the bar. Minutes later he came back, wearing bright colored clothes more suited to someone taking a vacation, though these clothes were just as tight as the ones before. He paid the bartender to refill his drink, and continued sipping while listening to the nearby conversation.
-
Al listened to Rathien's story with growing interest. He hadn't really pictured the being as being quite so... conniving. This was good information to have. He transmitted a quick record of the conversation to Salem's communicator, which would cause it to beep, and allow Salem to hear Rathien's story at his convenience.
When the injured being came crashing into the bar, Al glanced at Van and Jasper with a shrug, then followed Ewa and Rathien over, cringing as she used his name. Rathien still might not know him, but his cover wouldn't last long at this rate. He knelt down next to the injured newcomer and watched as Rathien worked to close his wounds. They were much more severe than he'd realized at first.
"So you're a medic as well as a killer," he said offhandedly to the hunter, his eyes wide as he looked over the gashes that the stranger had sustained. "I don't think there's a medical station around here. The best we could do is to find someone with a ship that has some medical facilities." He looked around the bar, sizing up the occupants, and trying to determine who might not only have decent medical facilities available, but also be willing to help a complete stranger. The two imperials? They'd probably just as soon let the man die. The War Prince captained a Dome Ship, and might be willing to help, but it wouldn't likely make much difference by the time they got him out to the ship's far orbit.
"There are rooms in the back," he said, pointing to the back hallway. "If you can get him there and slow his bleeding, I'll see if I can find some medical supplies." He stood and walked back to the table, "Van, Jasper, either of you have medical supplies handy? Or better yet, a medical facility?"
-
"Curiosity," Zorish says simply, swirling his glass. "This place..." he gestures to the bar at large, "seems like a rather intriguing establishment. The very fact that I am able to inquire about my own death, and to those who have seen and taken part in it, makes this place an anomoly worth investigating."
Zorish snorts slightly, smirking into his drink as he takes another sip. "Eloquently said, Andalite. May I ask whether you were actively seeking out the bar when you were 'flying in a ship'? You introduced yourself as the Captain of a Dome Ship, which I assume means that you have a large number of crew at your disposal, most of which do not appear to be present. What is so important about this place that you would cease operations on an entire Dome Ship?"
Efaen sidesteps a human-looking creature, and a small crowd that seems to have gathered around it. From a quick glance it appears as if the human is mortally wounded: not any of her concern. Ignoring the small knot of concerned onlookers, Efaen makes her way out of the bar, pausing just beyond the door to breathe deeply. The bar itself was beginning to become rather crowded, and her Andalite sensibilities had been yearning for the wider spaces of the outside.
Her pause is brief, and she quickly resumes walking, headed towards the ship yard and the last place she had seen the Skimmer. Efaen has no doubt that she will find Corliss at his ship; it is, after all, where he had left Terenia. Where one was to be found, the other was likely to be as well. She contemplates calling them directly via her comm link, but decides against it. It would be easy enough for Corliss to simply refuse to accept the communication. Easy and relatively likely, given his mood lately. Her thought-speech would be somewhat more difficult to block out.
"I don't know," Terenia gripes, glaring at the holosreen in frustration. "I can read a word here and there, and so can Mike, so we get the gist of it. I just don't want to screw anything up. Knowing my luck I'd blow the whole ship up on accident."
-
Van blinked in response to Al's question, and nodded. Though he was still rather surprised by the appearance and severity of the man's wounds, time was of the essence!
The Pirate quickly gestured at Ogreon, and stated, "Nichaa, Ogreon-ku has a ship nearby with a sufficiently advanced medbay. Ogreon, can't you beam him to the Urtahn, mmm chaa, now?!"
-
The sights one can see while near death are awe-inspiring and unique. Some people claim to have their life flash before their eyes. Others claim to see their loved ones who have passed on as well as their religious Deity. Most claim to see a tunnel with a light at the end. What this man saw though was not comforting, but nightmarish images that have haunted him.
The battles he had fought with the demons played before his eyes. Blood Raven, The Countess, Andariel, The Summoner, Duriel, Mephisto. All of them had spilt his blood, but never as much as Diablo had. He felt that this was the end and he would die before his quest was complete. However fate was once again going to be by his side.
He slowly regains consciousness and opens his eyes. Above him he sees a human female and human male. He also sees a being that looked like an Elf. He feels along his chest and discovers that his wounds have been closed, however he knows that he still has internal wounds. He can feel the pain from them as he breathes and he knows he can still die. He turns his eyes, which are a true anomaly as his right eye is a sapphire blue and his left eye is an emerald green, towards the female.
"Please....help....i n...inter..ternal.. ....wounds." He manages to gasp out as the pain begins to intensify.
-
Rathien waves off in Al's direction, still not certain of the Android's identity. "One must be ready to treat his own wounds if he truly wishes to maintain his Dream, given my line of...work."
He watches as the stranger regains consciousness for a moment... "Hmm...as I said, there's little I can do to treat internal injuries."
-
"What? No, I don't.. I don't have anything like uh ,... that..." Jasper said, pulled from his distracted stare. "Is... there anything I can do, or... I can .. I dunno...."
<<Stay out of the way, I guess.>> Jasper finished quietly.
<<First aid and trauma response aren't skills of ours. No use regretting it.>>
<<But... this guy is dying...>>
<<We weren't much help to the lady with the gunshot wound, either.>> Sapttus said.
<<Yeah, but....>> Jasper wasn't sure how to respond to that one. <<Oh good, someone has a med bay....>>
"Napkins." Sapttus blurted out loud.
<<What? I don't think that'll ->>
<<Not the paper ones you dope. Let's see if the bartender has any fabric ones.>>
<<I .. guess. Yeah, that sounds smart.>>
"Be right back." They got out of their seat, leaving the elephant and pocketknife at the table, and went quickly to the bar. "We need some good quality napkins, and fast." Sapttus said. The bartender gave him that dumb cow-in-head-lights look again. "Um.. please?" Jasper added.
-
Ewa was shocked to find Rathien had joined her, but he was infinitely more useful than she was. In moments there were no longer any gashes for her to hold shut, so she bit down on the pad of her forefinger and placed it on the actor's temple. It would make her more open to his communication if he was beyond using his body. She wouldn't have needed to do that if he'd been one her family--they were already well attuned to one another. Hopefully it just looked like I was biting my nails and now I'm supporting his head. And hopefully that injection included unimprinted supplements.
Rathien continued to confuse her. He was not the sort of man to care about the death of a complete stranger, but by the same token shouldn't have cared enough about her--or anyone--to do something he found boring and unnecessary. There's something about his motivation I just don't understand... unless.... maybe there are no safety mechanisms other than the other actors.... if he really would have died without help, maybe Rathien had to bend a bit? Ewa was beginning to wonder if maybe this scape wasn't actually sanctioned at all.
"Thank you," she told Rathien very sincerely, just as Al approached. A moment later the man regained consciousness and managed to get out that he had internal injuries.
Ewa frowned, checked her forefinger, then rubbed the skin at his temple. What's going on? There had been no mistaking his hacked and bloody body for anything other than truly injured, but she felt not even the slightest whisper of a mind reaching out to her own. It was wrong, just--
She pulled herself away from those thoughts as everyone debated what to do next and a cold Andalite female stepped over the body with scarcely a glance.
"Let's start moving him to the back then. Ogreon can teleport him from anywhere, once he's ready." She moved to help lift his legs and waited for someone to take the heavier torso.
-
The female said something about moving him to the back of the building while lifting his legs. At this point a wave of pain hit him with such intensity that he screamed with such intensity that everyone even near this building had to hear it. He also began coughing up copious amounts of blood. "Don....Don't mo...move...me." He managed to gasp out. "You....ma...make wo.......wounds..wo r...worse."
The man began to hyperventilate and was becoming less coherent. He was fighting to stay alive, but it was going to be an enduring battle. These people were trying to help, but they weren't moving fast enough. He took a pain-filled deep breath and gasped out painfully. "Please hurry, my death is near."
-
The sound of the injured man's scream startled Van and made him shudder. His own senses were being overwhelmed by the scent of coming death, but Rathien had made it apparent that this guy wasn't going to die; at least, not by the Hunter's hand.
Either way, he needed to be moved, and not too physically, either. Painkiller just might make his body go into shock or shut down from the numbness, so transporting him elsewhere with better equipment was necessary.
"Ogreon-ku, can you teleport him to the bed, gabo... Anh, now?! The transporter-nyah you've got can do that, right? Mmm, chaasi?"
Van was worried, however he was also perhaps more preoccupied with getting this savagely wounded man out of here. The man looked like he had been attacked by an Argraavi who somehow failed to finish off his kill. It was disgusting.
"Zangnaa! I really not want to get in the way of the whatever being that attacked him.... "
-
|OGREON
Ogreon heard Van talking to him. He'd been trying to reason why an Alvie unit had just been here and didnt assimilate anyone...
"Suüp? Oh, Van, my apologies. I was absorbed in thought...what was that you were saying?"
He looked around to get his bearings again, and spotted a wounded man on the floor...badly injured.
"Iernz! Who is this?"
-
Al looked back over his shoulder at the wounded man's scream, then back at Ogreon. "No idea, but he's badly injured, and if we can't stabilize him, I don't think he'll make it long. Van said you have medical facilities and some kind of transporter. Can you help him out?" He stepped back over to the man and knelt down- Rathien had done a better job of patching him up than Al would have been able to, considering his utter lack of medical supplies. He looked at Ewa and Rathien, "Apparently moving him isn't a great idea. Nobody around here's really a medic as far as I know. Hopefully he hasn't found us just to die on our doorstep," he said, looking back at the man with concern.
-
At this point a wave of pain hit him with such intensity that he screamed with such intensity that everyone even near this building had to hear it. He also began coughing up copious amounts of blood. "Don....Don't mo...move...me." He managed to gasp out. "You....ma...make wo.......wounds..wo r...worse."
The man began to hyperventilate and was becoming less coherent. "Please hurry, my death is near."
Ewa froze, then narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the wounded man, becoming angry. There is no way someone that injured would keep speaking! He's killing himself, she thought disgustedly. That, or somehow these wounds were fake, and everyone was silently laughing at her gullibility.
Still, she was gentle about setting his legs down and moving away. She held her hands out away from her body to try to minimize how much more blood she got on her clothes. Really, she didn't doubt that he was truly and seriously injured--far beyond what any remotely sane person would be willing to do for a role. But his mind was complete shut off while he continued to hurt himself by using his body to communicate. Ewa didn't think she was physically capable of doing something like that, in that state. With injuries that serious, a Paladinian body would go into lock down. Except to draw attention initially, she wouldn't be able to talk--much less scream so violently.
Well, regardless of what's going on here, there's absolutely nothing I can do. Maybe he's mentally unstable and done this on purpose... She took a slow breath and gave herself the appropriate mental distance she needed.
"I think you had best take him, Ogreon. It seems the rest of us can't do much more to help."
She turned to Al. "Is there a washroom around here? I'd like to get rid of some of this blood before it becomes a permanent fixture."
-
|OGREON
He nodded quickly, "Of course, why am I asking questions? Ogreon to Urtahn, two for emergency transport to sickbay."
"Aye, sir...", came the voice of Ogreon's first officer.
Ogreon grabbed the man's shoulder gently so that when they locked onto his signal, they would get him too. Then Ogreon thought...
"Ogreon to Urtahn, standby..."
He turned to Van quickly, "Are you coming too, Vweknd?", he asked, managing not to slur the words as he spoke fast. He had been speaking Klunti this whole time, so he didn't notice that his universal translator was malfunctioning.
-
<<Tell him I don't know how to find Salem's signal from here,>> Mike says, an edge of panic rising in his voice. <<See all those signals? I know the Yeerk ones, and the Andalite ones, at least by their color...but which one is Salem?>>
Corliss swims in impatient circles, waiting for news of his ship's condition and above all, clearance for them all to go home.
-
"Mike doesn't know which one is Salem," Terenia says to Illim, her voice thick with frustration, a strange combination of his British lilt and her own midwestern dialect. "I need to open a connection with him and I can't tell who I'm freaking calling."
-
Illim frowns and then gives a placating nod. "Alright, alright, just hang on." Then he grins at Terenia's garbled accent and says in a frighteningly good impression of Mike's, "Budge up, will ya?"
He moves closer to the screen around them, studying the signals and discarding a few off the bat. "Lessee..." he murmurs, tracking Derrel's finger across the readout. "This one. Appropriately alien. That's my guess, anyway," he sighs, stepping back.
-
<<Is he making fun of me?>> Terenia demands, Mike's left hand clenching into a fist even as she peers over Illim's shoulder.
"Fine," she says coldly to Illim. "You had better be right, though." She selects the signal that he has indicated, letting it send a call out to who she can only hope is Salem. <<Knowing my luck it'll feed me directly to Visser Three or something,>> she grumbles. <<So how do I convince this trader to get rid of the stupid energy-stealing nanites? Based on your memories he hardly seems open to discussion.>>
-
Ogreon appeared to begin the wounded man's transport to his medbay, when suddenly, he turned to ask Van, "Are you coming too, Vweknd?"
Van wasn't sure as to what the diplomat had called him, but he figured it was a less-documented language on the Clangst's translator. After all, he had previously appeared to speak Galactic Common; it was likely that whatever sent Ogreon into such a panic was strong enough to make him revert to a more familiar tongue. That was a common reaction, in Van's opinion.
The pirate responded, "Mmmm, nah, I have the business to do on the my ship. And to be on the honest," he winced, "I don't want to be around the wounds so nasty. The internal bleeding is pretty bad. I can nearly find the smell of it!"
Van then stepped away. His odd speech and posture made his discomfort obvious. He didn't like the looks of this situation. Ewa seemed similarly disturbed, which was a comfort to the pirate. Though, he also wanted to know why.
Giving her a glance as he turned towards the door, "I could give you the clean up in the Palkoris. It will look like the mess for now, but I have the facilities you need. And the quarters of the Captain are clean. Besides, I don't like the looks of this either, sichaasi."
-
Ogreon nodded reluctantly, "Alright. I'll see you later."
What Van said about the smell brought Ogreon's senses to life...unfortunatel y. Clangst have no nostrils. The olfactory receptors are lined up on a callus area at the end of the snout. Since the organ is dedicated to smell only, and not to breathing, and since it is so large and aerodynamically shaped, a Clangst's sense of smell is rather good. He could smell the blood.
"Erm...yes. Alright. Ill be back. Ogreon to Urtahn, energize."
Ogreon and his patient glowed red, then their forms faded to be replaced by a small red glow in the middle of where their chests were. Then that too faded, and the proces was repeated reverse as the were beamed to sickbay.((I'm guessing we reactivate the GESB: Urtahn thread?))
-
<<Ask him really nicely?>> Mike replies with a mental wince. <<I don't bloody know, love. Seems the only thing Salem's open to is bribery, unless we can force his hand.>>
Corliss' voice echoes suddenly from the ceiling. "What's going on, then? Is he cooperating?"
-
The human female lowered his legs and looked like she was suddenly repulsed. It dawned on him that perhaps his behavior had repulsed her and it was this knowledge that shook him to his core. It was this revelation that made him realize the terrible truth. I am afraid he thought to himself.
A being touched his shoulder and when he looked at the creature he was repulsed. It looked like the bugs that he had faced in the desert. The memories of the tunnels flooding back. This creature seemed to want to help and although he didn't know what a 'sickbay' was, he felt that perhaps it was where the healer would be.
The creature grabbed his shoulder and they began to glow with a strange red light. At this point he again lost consciousness, although he was still breathing even though it was still erratic.
((Ummmm I'm not sure do we? And what is the Urtahn thread?))
-
Although Van seemed very squeamish about the blood, he still offered to let Ewa use his ship to clean up. That's nice but it will also remove me from the people who have more experience in this place... She also thought a good deal of his motivation for the offer might have just been the excuse to get her into his "quarters", but he looked too sick at the moment to be up for much flirting.
Some of her hair had fallen forward and was tickling her face. Ewa had hair ties in her pocket, but had never actually gotten around to using one of them. And now my hands are covered in blood. She tried using her shoulder to brush the offending strands out of the way. I can always find these people again, she decided. And it's not like it should take very long.
"Thank you," she answered Van. "So long as you're sure you don't mind if I track some of this in with me?" She pursed her lips. "For all the good I was, I certainly look like I did a lot of work. Or caused his injuries myself." Rathien, with all his competence, was nearly spotless.
-
<We're waiting for him to pick up, Corliss,> Terenia says, choosing to use thought speech instead of Mike's vocalizations. Hearing her words in his voice makes her feel strange. Like she is violating him somehow. <Any brilliant ideas on what to say to the dapsen?>
Efaen reaches the Skimmer, which is, of course, sealed off. A quick trot around its perimeter confirms as much. When she reaches the hatch again she calls out in rather loud open thought-speech. <Corliss, I know you are likely within your ship; I need to speak with you immediately. Lower your hatch and grant me entry.>
Terenia groans as Efaen's familiar thought-speech fills her and Mike's combined skull. "Just what we need," she mutters coldly. She glances at Illim, "Look, I'm waiting for Salem to pick up and Corliss is vulnerable right now. Can you deal with the psychotic Andalite?"
-
<<Uptight Andalite or ****y girl? Tough pick, man.>> Derrel said.
Claxter had not yet found Theta. Could he have really run off that far?
-
Van laughed in response to Ewa's statement, his eyes twinkling. Sure, she was covered in blood, but with the newcomer now safely teleported, it wasn't that big of a deal anymore.
"Mmm, chaa, it's not far from here. I kind of... Crashed into the Bar earlier. It did the repair on itself, but I need to sort things out on the, er, my ship. I have cargo, you see."
He waved his arm, beckoning her, "Mmm, there was something really out of the ordinary about the wounds. I felt something... The cause seems stranger than just being hacked apart, my mind gathers. You must have noticed that, chaa."
Van motioned again for her to follow, and left the Bar. It took a little re-orienting, but he found his ship rather easily. It was just outside the Bar, right up against the wall it had originally crashed through.
The Pirate shuddered. The Bar's strange ability to repair its own walls still bothered him.
-
Al watched as the newcomer and Ogreon disappeared, then sighed. It sounded like Ogreon could provide decent medical service. Aside from the blood that had dripped to the floor where the newcomer had fallen, there was no longer any trace of him. Ewa and Van were leaving- she really was a mess. It'd be best if she cleaned herself up. In the meantime, it looked like he might be stuck in here with Rathien.
He wandered over to Jasper and turned to survey the bar at large. "So what do you think happened to him?" he asked in a surprisingly casual tone.
Salem's communicator trilled, signifying an unknown origin of the incoming call. Rathien? Would he feel any need to access Salem's communicator?
Salem pulled the device from his pocket and asked warily, "Who's this?"
-
"Someone who really, really does not want to talk to you," Terenia says curtly as soon as Salem picks up. She sees no reason to let him know that she is speaking instead of Corliss. "We need to leave this rock, and your stupid microbes are still draining energy. If you would be so kind as to remove them, that would be fantastic."
<<Nice enough?>> Terenia asks Mike.
-
Salem laughed, "Corliss, are you honestly worried about the energy drain? It's not exactly crippling." So the Yeerk had figured out how to call his communicator. That was somewhat impressive. He glanced over at Al's station- his ship was, in fact, monitoring this communication. Maybe it would be helpful for him to be on the receiving end. He'd have to remember to feed the record of it from his communicator into the ship's computer when he was done.
"If you're not to busy shooting people in the back, maybe you'd like to hear my offer. The Malleon are a remarkably helpful species. I have them aboard my own ship. They're capable of repairing the systems on a microscopic level from within. Really bright little things. Whatever they can consume in energy, they might more than make up for in increased efficiency." He sat down in his chair with an air of confidence and grinned at Mar before continuing, "If both you and they are comfortable with the situation, I'll put the two of you in communication and allow them to go with you. I won't even charge you for it. Consider it my offer of friendship to you and your rebellion. What do you say?"
-
((sORRY, Chad, I forgot about Theta))
|THETA-PI
Theta approached the small ovalish pod. His sensors detected no one to close by. He linked with the pod and it automatically opened. As he stepped inside, it shut...
-
Mar watches Salem's communication with a somewhat questioning look. The trader seemed to be constantly involved in double-crossing, complex dealings in which he picked whichever side helped him out the most. At one point the rebellion seemed angry at him, and now he's trying to get in good with them again. Mar figured that since he wasn't really on either side of the Yeerk-Andalite war, and Salem had no idea about his own war......he could pull one over on the little twit.
Mar wandered Salem's archives with some interest, perusing the trader's wares for connections to the Highest there. A Light side Highest of considerable power had touched one of the artifacts, which did not necessarily indicate an opponent but suggested there was a need for a force of great nobility. A god of similar power had had some effect on a machine of Salem's: it was perhaps his or had been made with access to him. This one was closer to Mar himself in nature, but not quite. "A Light side Highest choosing female," muttered Mar carefully. "And a...boy with too much Oblivion for him to handle. The others are of a more confusing nature: either their Belief array is specified to one species, or they have not been clear about their intentions. You come from a very strange political sphere, Salem."
Mar blinks, picking up a rather curious black rock. There appear to be more than one, but all contain mana and other substances. High-grade, from the look of it. Mar grins nastily, another set of eyes briefly opening and then closing on his head. "Unique signature, these. Perhaps unique to your world. They don't appear to source from any one Highest, but a Highest would want one. It could open up more access to the Mass, if I drained one or two."
-
Terenia frowns, sifting through Mike's memories of when Salem first mentioned the Malleon. "You said you have them on your own ship, right? So what's to stop them from telling you the location of our base?" she reiterates Corliss' own concerns from earlier. "Furthermore, what the hell makes you think that I'm going to trust someone who implanted a race of sentient microbes on my ship without my bloody permission?"
<<This guy really is something else,>> Terenia remarks. <<Feels kind of strange pretending to be Corliss, though. Kind of...I dunno, wrong, or something. Doubt he'd be any more helpful if he knew who he was actually speaking to, though.>>
-
Claxter couldn't seem to find theta anywhere. Eventually he found himself wandering towards the wreckage of Theta's old ship. As he came closer, he noticed something in the debri. He wasn't sure what it was, but his ship's scanner hadn't picked up on it. It was either well shielded, or just didn't have anything in it that Claxter's ship would pick up.
He wasn't sure if he should try calling Theta or not. He might not appreciate someone keeping an eye on him, especially since he had taken a disliking to Ossanlin. He looked over the wreckage while he tried to think of something.
-
He waved his arm, beckoning her, "Mmm, there was something really out of the ordinary about the wounds. I felt something... The cause seems stranger than just being hacked apart, my mind gathers. You must have noticed that, chaa."
"The cause..." Ewa trailed off uncertainly as she followed Van, shouldering her way through the door. Was he also disturbed that such a serious injury was real? But that's not really a cause. Doesn't really matter how he was hacked apart, he was still a mess of blood and flesh. Worried about a cause. What do they do to you to make you that injured? Did they have him fight with unshielded weapons and skin to make it more realistic? But he wasn't here.... how big is this scape? What if they just sliced him up and sent him in.... who would do that?
For as little as the plot or any of the characters in this place made sense, their attention to physical detail was nothing short of.... psychopathic.
-
"This is how you can tell you're the new guy," Illim grumbles to both Terenia and Derrel as he wanders to the hatch with a sigh, opening it a crack.
"Hi there, Efaen," he smiles wanly upon spotting the Andalite--not at all a difficult feat. "Corliss is occupied at the moment. Can I help you with anything?"
-
He wandered over to Jasper and turned to survey the bar at large. "So what do you think happened to him?" he asked in a surprisingly casual tone.
"I... I have no clue. Looks like he got mauled by a bear or something. That, or tripped into a meat grinder." Jasper shuddered. Why was he trying to be cute and funny right now? He'd seen a lot of gruesome things in his time under the Visser, but... still, he never got used to it. "Hope he's okay..." he said quietly.
Sapttus tapped on the countertop, again getting the bartenders attention. "I need a tall glass of... well, whatever you've got on tap, really. Just make sure it comes from Earth...."
<<...what are you... I don't... since when do you drink?>>
<<I don't. I've got my own means of breaching sanity. But right now, you do.>>
<<Okay, but... since when do *I* drink? You know I've only ever ->>
<<It's been a long day, and you need something, just a little something.>>
<<Yeah, but... you just ordered 'whatever'. Is that even safe in a place like this...?>>
<<I said...>> Sapttus blinked. <<Perhaps simply requesting it be from Earth doesn't qualify as 'safe', does it?>>
<<I'd... say not.>> "Never mind, I'll just -" He began.
"-have a light beer, to be more specific." Sapttus finished for him. Not that that was what Jasper was going to say, but he didn't argue.
He looked back at Al. "I'm going to take a couple minutes here..."
-
Mike sighs. <<When it bloody rains it pours,>> he murmurs. <<I reckon it's good you're pretending to be Corliss, I don't want Salem to know any more than he has to about what we've been up to.>>
Corliss remains silent, listening to whatever happens to be filtered through the poolside translator.
-
Salem laughed again and shot Mar a look that said "can you believe this guy?" before turning his communicator back on and responding to Terenia. "Yeerk, if you're going to turn down every opportunity that presents itself to you in favor of politics and squabbling, how can you expect to make progress against an enemy like the Yeerk Empire? I know you may not like me, but try to see this for what it is. It's a chance to put your little Rebellion one step ahead." He sighed, "Look, would it make you feel any better if I just let you talk to them for a little while?"
He switched off his communicator and watched as Mar trawled his wares. The being seemed to be able to gather more information about Salem's home universe than he'd thought possible. Immortals sensing immortals. That was interesting.
He knew from his travels that the number of immortals he was used to was unusual. It wasn't something he'd often had the chance to discuss with outsiders.
"The political sphere of the immortals isn't something I keep close tabs on, Highest." He took a seat in one of the two chairs in the middle of the room and watched as the being began shuffling through his refined versions of Allrite. "There are a lot of them, and they do seem to have their own interests, but I've never found their interests interesting."
Mar picked up one of the stone-like pieces of one of the All-products. Salem stood up and walked over to him. He smirked. Mar definitely had a good eye.
"That's an Allover. If you want to get your hands on that particular stone, I'm probably going to have to ask for significantly more from you than just a flying lesson. Maybe one of these?" he asked, holding up a 'gun metal' colored lump about the size of his fist. He didn't know how to use the All-materials, but that didn't make them any less valuable. Unlike many of the artifacts in his hold, he knew enough about the supposed lore of Allrite to work out what they were supposed to do.
"That sounds like a fantastic idea." Al plopped into the stool beside Jasper and said to the bartender, "Make that two beers, on me." He turned to Jasper, "Is it just me, or is this place less and less fun lately?" He nodded towards Rathien, "Guy's really killing my buzz. We've got dying guys coming out of nowhere... judging by that guy's teleporter, they should have passable medical facilities. I've gotta imagine he'll pull through." He smiled and nodded at the bartender as he set down a pair of tall beers in front of them. "I keep thinking this place might start to be fun, but it's kinda looking like it's just here to breed chaos."
-
Jocun noticed some other people coming to the bar, and gave them a smile. Maybe they'd be less uptight than the Sub-Visser and Andalites. He was starting to feel the pleasant buzz of alchohol, and that put him in a relaxed mood. Life was good, even if he did manage to find the one place in the galaxy where an Imperial uniform didn't get you much respect.
-
Terenia rolls her eyes at Illim, turning back to the communication.
"You'll have to forgive me if I don't trust opportunities that are thrust upon me unwillingly," Terenia seethes. "You're a poor trader if you don't take no for an answer. Now get those microbes off me bloody ship so I can leave this rock."
<I require Corliss' presence, not yours, Yeerk,> Efaen says frostily to Illim, her tail twitching testily. <My prince requires contact with his leader before I can be released for departure aboard this craft. Unless you have the ability to communicate with the rebel leader directly?>
-
Salem rolled his eyes and clicked his communicator on again, "Fine, I'll see what I can do, Yeerk. Would you allow me to come aboard and get into your ship's power system for a minute to get them out?"
-
Illim glances over his shoulder and then gives Efaen a regretful smile. "Our comm system is currently in use. You could start the queue, though, if you want." He grins. "So are we gonna try to cram as many Andalites as we can on this thing? Sounds like a fun game. And by fun, I mean pokey."
He leans against the doorway, his grin widening. "By the way, Efaen, I've got a name. It's Illim."
-
Mar wandered over to Salem and picked up the much smaller stone, his hair moving rather independently of his head for a few moments before dying down. Mar frowned---this wasn't of as high quality as the substance he had touched before. However he got the impression that he'd have to give something pretty substantial to Salem in order to possess it. He didn't exactly trust the trader---not that this had ever stopped him from "donating" his power to someone before, but Salem seemed smart. He'd find some way to get the better end of the deal.
"Mm," states Mar, putting his hand under his chin, crossing his legs in midair. "Tell you what. For one of these stones, I'll show you the basic principle of how it works and teach you to fly. If you want something more....significant, we'll talk again. For all I know, you might figure it out on your own after I show you. Keep your excitement in check after learning the trick to it, though----it's rather easy. It's just a matter of..." Mar smirks. "...let us say seeing the two people kissing rather than the vase. Though I doubt you'd get my meaning."
-
~Ossanlin~
<It wasn't your death Yeerk. You don't seem to understand. If it had been your death, you would be dead...I had thought that principle simple to understand, but I'm apparently mistaken.> Ossanlin gives Zorish/Tamora a pointed look. <This has nothing to do with you, you are a different person. There are infinite versions of you, each his own individual, some have died and some have not...can you not grasp this?> Ossanlin quickly places his mint-water on the floor and dips is hoof in. <Alternate multiverses are not meant to interact.>
Ossanlin takes a deep breath. The bar was what allowed different multiverses to connect...it wasn't the only thing by far, but it did happen. Ossanlin is simply uncomfortable with the excitable Imperial around, but one concern he'd always had was that the Empire would find out about this place and try to use it to invade other realities...such invasion could cause the very fabric of space-time to rip all throughout their Galaxy in all realities...no one would win the war then.
<And if you truly believe activities cease on a Dome without her Captain, you are more ignorant than I could've imagined. But then of course your specialty is humans isn't it? Human culture I believe it was.> Ossanlin absorbs some of the water through his hoof.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________
~Rathien~
Rathien watches with bemused curiosity as the insectoid being and the injured party vanish. He had had the impression that no one here had the ability to use matter/energy conversion and reassembly. "Curious."
He stands and moves back to the table, taking another 'nacho' from the abandoned plate and consuming it. "I'll be back, android." Rathien shoots Al a dirty look. While it was true that either the human male asking for a drink or Ewa could still be the artificial construct (he was absolutely sure it wasn't Van), he had a feeling it was the tux-wearing man. Honestly, who would dress so nicely for an establishment such as this? He grabs one more 'nacho' before turning on his heel and walking out the door, eating it on the way with still-bloody hands. He pulls a small towel from a pocket and wipes his hands clean, the blood absorbing into the fabric and disappearing. He carefully folds the towel again and returns it to his pocket.
He surveys the outdoors as best he can, and sees Ewa and Van disappearing around a corner of the bar. He narrows his eyes in mild annoyance. Perhaps this was a good time to survey...or spy. Rathien smirks to himself as he moves around the other side of the bar out of sight. He engages his active camo and quickly walks around to the other side of the bar, noting the nose of Van's ship flush against the wall...the ship itself was a bit of a mess...it'd obviously crash-landed. And yet how strange that it had stopped right at the bar wall without causing any damage to the establishment. He looks up the ramp, trying to see inside the vessel. Really he should be thinking about Tobias and his offer, but these two intrigue him for some reason...enjoying their 'company' would be a truly pleasurable experience if fate did indeed allow it to happen.
-
"Alternate...realiti es?" Jocun said, mostly to himself. Was that it? Was he in some other reality where the Yeerks hadn't won the war? Or, perish the thought, lost the war? Should he interfere in this? Probably not. Higher powers tend to dislike lesser beings attempting to alter reality. It was beyond his comprehension, and he had no obligation to do such a thing. Yeerks were on top where he was from, and he need not hold loyalties to people of other dimensions.
"I suppose the Andalite speaks some truth. You shouldn't worry too much about when the inevitable happens, and what happens to another reality's you may never happen to you. There was this old story I heard about in my ancient history studies about someone named Macbeth. Try not to fullfill your own prophesy while you race to avert it."
-
<<I don't particularly like the idea of him coming on board again,>> Terenia gripes. "Why don't you just tell me how to do it," she asks Salem in the most patient voice she can muster. "For all I know you'll tell them to attack or something."
<I do not care what your name is Yeerk,> Efaen bristles, his smile souring her mood even further. <Do not mistake my presence among your people for an attempt at camaraderie. I am here because I am honor bound to be here.>
"Indeed," Zorish says, setting his drink down and leaning forward on Tamora's elbows. "I understand more than you presume, Andalite. I understand that, however improbable, this place indicates a juncture in space and time. I understand that infinite universes and infinite timelines means infinite possibilities." He raises his eyebrows, a small smile on his face. "For example, I am certain there is a universe out there from which the Andalite race is blessedly absent. Additionally, I am sure there is one...or perhaps many...that are home to an infinite number of Class Five hosts."
Zorish's smile fades, letting the possibility hang there for a moment before he continues. He can almost picture it; a fleet of Imperial ships overtaking the bar, turning the planetoid into an inter-dimensional outpost from which it could reach all corners of reality. The image makes him shiver, and he cannot say whether it is from joy or fear. His musings are interrupted by the Imperial, who he turns to sneer at.
"You speak as though you have experience meddling with reality," he snaps, pure Sub-Visser. "If you do, please share your stories. If not, hold your tongue. I do not require advice." With a flip of Tamora's blonde hair he turns his glare back on Ossanlin, intentionally keeping his voice loud enough that Jocun can continue eavesdropping if he so chooses.
"I think that perhaps you are falling victim to the same prejudices as the Yeerk traitors," Zorish says, recalling his earlier conversation with Myitt. "You assume that because I am a part of the Empire, and because I wear the badge of a Sub-Visser, I am therefore eager to enslave and destroy the galaxy. You think that I would do anything for power, or even the faintest wisp of a promise." Zorish leans back, folding his arms across his chest, Tamora's grey eyes sizing up the much more formidable Andalite. "Does it not strike you as possible that I am merely curious?" Zorish tilts his head, then amends, "That we are curious?"
-
"I have heard stories, actually. You really should try to be nicer to the only guy who doesn't dislike you just for being an imperial, Sub-Visser." He said, stressing the first part of the rank in a way that higher ranking individuals sometimes do when reminding someone of their lower station.
"There were two in regard to the planet Earth, and they both pertained to the Time Matrix. In both cases a higher power or two stepped in to assure that the incident did not alter what they wanted to happen."
-
"Don't let him on board," Corliss says overhead, tapping into their communications. "I don't trust the bloke as far as I can throw him. Which isn't far, really..."
-
Salem frowned and shook his head slightly at Mar. He didn't recognize the saying Mar was using- though the allusion sounded simple enough. The being was simply talking about a shift in paradigm, it seemed.
The Allstone he'd shown Mar was valuable, and would be very hard to come by out here... but learning an entirely new way to view things... that would be more than worth it, wouldn't it?
And what about Myitt's warnings? he reminded himself. He shook his head slightly. It seemed that if he wasn't agreeing to give up part of himself to the being, the warning wouldn't apply. He'd keep his eyes open, of course, but honestly, what harm could be done? And if he gained the power to fly? The insight into the immortals?
In this case, it would probably be well worth the risk.
"Alright, highest, that sounds like a fair trade," he said with a nod.
At that moment, Mike's voice came back on over his communicator. He sighed and replied, "Corliss, if I wanted to tell them to attack you, I could do that from here. But yeah, I guess I could give you what you need to get them out. I need to make sure I get them safely back to my ship. They're members of my crew, Yeerk." There was a veiled threat hidden in his words, and it showed by the slight aggressiveness in his tone. "Let me tell them what's going on. Tell me, can you get to the actual power stream of your ship's systems? That would make getting them out nice and easy."
He turned back to Mar, "Give me a few minutes to take care of this joker, and then I'm ready for a flying lesson if you are." There was a twinkle in his eye and a slight smirk as he said 'flying lesson.' This was something he'd never expected to hear himself asking for.
He turned away from Mar and spoke to the ship at large, "Malleon, we're done aboard the Skimmer. The politics of the situation have changed. I need to pull you out." The entire front wall of the craft lit up, glowing with blue letters scrawled in the Atazin galactic language. Salem read them quickly before continuing, "No, I'd like to think of them as potential allies at this point. If we just leave, say, two percent of you behind, and have you go dormant, is that enough to create a colony? There shouldn't be any detectable energy drain then, right?" The lettering on the wall was replaced by a new series of words. "Okay, let's do that, then. I'll ping you with a quick electrical signal." A smirk spread across his face, "And... it might be necessary to convince these rebels not to bother you in the future. They don't quite understand what you are. They might find your capacity for emotion somewhat startling. Should help them view you as equals. I think they'd see evidence of pain as especially jarring." The words on the wall rewrote themselves once again. "Yeah, that should work quite nicely," he said, grinning, with a wink at Mar.
Al turned in surprise when Rathien called him "android," and raised his eyebrow at the hunter in a pretty good impression of confusion. When the hunter walked out the door, Al took a sip of his beer and shrugged at Jasper, "Okay, so he probably knows who I am. That was worth a try, though, right?" He grinned and called to the bartender, "Hey, have any ice cream you could send our way?"
-
Mar watches Salem's actions carefully and mutters, "Hmm. Two percent of you....a collective sentience, perhaps. You deal with interesting partners, Salem. Remarkable that species of such different natures should be able to understand each other. You have different wants and desires, no? This.....universe you come of...I will argue to the Mass and to Necrul's Council that a foray into it would be profitable. We shall see how such endeavors turn out."
Mar then...inexplicably sits in the middle of Salem's ship, lowering himself to the ground. "I am ready when you are, although the process may make you feel a little silly at first."
-
"That sounds like a fantastic idea." Al plopped into the stool beside Jasper and said to the bartender, "Make that two beers, on me." He turned to Jasper, "Is it just me, or is this place less and less fun lately?" He nodded towards Rathien, "Guy's really killing my buzz. We've got dying guys coming out of nowhere... judging by that guy's teleporter, they should have passable medical facilities. I've gotta imagine he'll pull through." He smiled and nodded at the bartender as he set down a pair of tall beers in front of them. "I keep thinking this place might start to be fun, but it's kinda looking like it's just here to breed chaos."
Al turned in surprise when Rathien called him "android," and raised his eyebrow at the hunter in a pretty good impression of confusion. When the hunter walked out the door, Al took a sip of his beer and shrugged at Jasper, "Okay, so he probably knows who I am. That was worth a try, though, right?" He grinned and called to the bartender, "Hey, have any ice cream you could send our way?"
Jasper wasn't expecting company, though he didn't really mind. Sapttus could care less. He just needed to make sure that Jasper didn't have a conniption, what with all the chaos he'd seen so far. "Glad you agree." He said, with a slightly amused smile. "We don't turn down good company often."
<<...that's a big glass... we aren't going to have *all* of that, are we?>>
<<I haven't decided yet.>>
<<Oh my gosh, dude, no... you think *you* have issues... I don't do well drunk, okay? You'd know....>>
<<That has been taken into consideration.>> Sapttus said, expressing his jesting.
"I would have to agree with you there. This place does have a tendency towards excitement, doesn't it? I can only imagine what you've been through here." He actually didn't want to think about it. They were both still debating whether or not this was truly better than remaining at the Yeerk Pool. At least there, he only had to worry about the Visser... <<At least here, we might find a cure.>> Jasper said. Sapttus nodded. <<Thanks...>>
"So... I take it that you were hoping to hide from this... particular person?" Sapttus began. " He seemed to maybe be a potential contributing factor to the bar's atmosphere of 'excitement'. I, for one, wasn't too enthralled by the little history he gave of himself. Is he... uh... someone that you've run into before? He was uh, kinda hangin' around Salem a bunch... " Jasper finished. Sapttus had become entirely distracted by something else.
<<Oh my gosh... Ice cream would be perfection right now.....just... utter perfection!!!>>
-
"Yeah, I know," Illim sighs with an eye roll. "You don't want to spend too much time around us. Our Yeerkishness night be catching. Or you might find yourself actually liking some of us. And that simply wouldn't do."
He glances back; it seems Terenia is wrapping up discussions with Salem, but as the comm link is still in use, he turns back to Efaen with a shrug.
Serid raises his eyebrows at the new Imperial arrival's manner of speaking towards Zorish. Dislike Zorish as he might, he could not help but feel somewhat offended for the Yeerk. To speak in this way, the Imperial must be a Visser. Or perhaps even higher--no. No, that could not be. No one in such a position would come here, much less sit comfortably with two free Andalites.
-
"Do you always dispense members of your crew onto other spacecraft so lightly?" Terenia snaps back, a slight growl in her voice. She is quickly becoming incredibly impatient with the situation." She flips through Mike's memories quickly, looking for anything that will help her access the ship's power stream. "Yeah," she says grouchily after a pause. "I can get into the power stream. Just hurry up, we're kind of in a bit of a rush."
<Enough,> Efaen says, taking a step forward. <Lower the ramp and permit me to board. I do not wish to waste time exchanging insults with the likes of you. There are more important matters to attend to.>
Zorish's shoulders stiffen at Jocun's tone, but beyond that he gives no indication of having heard the implications. "Well, I certainly wouldn't want any higher beings meddling in my affairs," he says, forcing a chuckle. "Assuming that such creatures exist at all. Granted, after a few hours in this place not much would surprise me." He glances at the Imperial named Jocun. "You say the stories you have heard involve a Time Matrix, hm? Such a device is a thing of legend. Andalite lore used for the purpose of scaring their grubs. I certainly cannot speak to their existence." He grips his glass, putting it to his lips and downing the remaining liquid.
"I am interested in your stories, Jocun," Zorish says after he swallows, "but I am more interested in this place itself, as it is certainly very real. And evidently accessible as well, which is more than one can say for your Time Matrix."
-
"Well, I can't exactly roll the thing out here in front of everyone, so I have no concrete proof. I too would like to know more of this place, like why is it here? Why would a higher being allow this place to exist, where mortals such as us could so easily screw around with the timestream and other dimensions? I don't suppose this is actually the origin point of the universe and all dimensions?" Jocun said. He looked at the bartender, who as usual said nothing. "I don't suppose you know of the origins of this place, good Andalite?"
-
Salem chose to ignore Terenia's remark about how lightly he took the dispersion of his crew members, and instead responded, "Good, I'll be over in a minute with the equipment you'll need to get them out. How fast you can do that depends on how fast you work, Yeerk." He stuck his communicator back in his pocket.
He continued speaking to Mar as he went through several of the open drawers. "If you could actually manage to transport yourself into my home universe, I might just have to hitch a ride." He found what he was looking for- a clear cylinder with copper ends, and a long, shiny 'string' dangling from the center of one of the copper ends. He quickly wrapped the string around the outside of the container, speaking as he did so. "Yeah, the Malleon tend to have a very different agenda than I do, but that doesn't mean we can't find mutually beneficial agreements." He then caressed the wall, causing all of the open compartments all around the ship to slide shut.
He turned to Mar with a smile, "This should only take a minute. You're welcome to follow if you like. Otherwise, I'll be back as soon as I get my friends away from that rebel." He turned and walked down the ship's ramp, and towards the Skimmer. As he neared it, he could make out the form of the female Andalite outside. I'm not waiting in line, he thought.
Al laughed, "This place has kept on surprising me, at least. Never a dull moment." He rolled his eyes when Jasper talked about Rathien, "Yeah, I know him. He's a bounty hunter. A good one. Salem's wanted in some places, and that guy's already tried to kill him on multiple occasions." He sipped his beer, "Funny thing about people who try to kill you- you don't tend to like them." The bartender, after some searching, had managed to find a pint of Ben & Jerry's Phish Food in one of the freezers. He unceremoniously dumped it on the counter in front of Al. "Spoon?" Al inquired. He noticed the eager look in Jasper's eyes and amended his request to "Make that two spoons." The bartender reached behind the counter and pulled out two mostly-clean looking spoons, which he handed to Al.
Al frowned, then brushed the spoons on his jacket. He pulled the lid off of the ice cream and stuck in a spoon, holding out the other spoon to Jasper as he continued speaking. "He's dangerous, and he wants Salem dead. What I can't figure out is why he'd come in here and talk to us, instead of just shooting." He looked back at the door out which Rathien had walked. "It's interesting... it seems like he'd almost be my kind of guy, if it weren't for his whole 'gotta kill people' lifestyle."
-
Illim gives Efaen a bland smile and turns his head to watch Terenia and Mike. "Whatcha think, guys? Efaen wants to come in to make a call. She's getting a little antsy out here," he says to them loudly enough for the Andalite to hear him as well.
<<I guess not everyone can be charmed by our smile,>> he laments to Derrel with an internal chuckle.
Serid gives a dismissive "feh" at the Yeerks' discussion of the Time Matrix. This newcomer is speaking of ever more improbabilities. He shakes his head, torn between thinking he is crazy or falsely boastful.
"Perhaps," he speaks up for the first time, "this place serves their purposes, as well. Perhaps such beings surround us here, even now. Perhaps, Yeerk, you should use caution when advertising your use of such a mythical device; those who do not think you insane may attempt to wrest it from you."
-
<<I just must be too good looking for her. she's intimidated by me, thus tries to push us away so she won't get too entangled in our charms.>> Derrel said.
"Oh, I don't actually possess the Time Matrix, or even know where it is. Besides, it's not like none of my allies know I'm here. Are you implying I'm insane?"
-
Van moved his away around, and groaned a bit at the sight of his ship. The paint looked a little worse for wear thanks to the crash, and the pirate felt that the ship itself wouldn't impress Ewa.
Beryllian ships were certainly of a different sort of... nature than your average, sleek, designed-by-Apple-in-California type of ships most people were used to. To the untrained eye, it looked like a giant metallic rock. And much to Van's annoyance, that was usually the first comment people had about the thing.
Ships of this scale, with terribly thick walls made from a natural metal with a stone-like appearance, were built originally to withstand the rigors of Gravitic Warp. In the past, when the technology was being refined, engineers feared that relying on the ships that were standard at the time would be too flimsy, and would break apart once they entered the warp vortexes.
So, instead of building what they thought would make the cut, the engineers built ships that were above and beyond the call for structural stability. The approach was wonderfully hamfisted, and the bulky spacecraft that became the norm for Beryllia certainly reflected this sensibility. Beryllians always liked to live in the large, so overly bulky ships weren't a problem. And the only other reason they hadn't moved beyond the design was because the ships not only looked like rocks, they were hard as rocks, and took damage very well.
Van had originally hoped to eventually come to a pirate-friendly dock and trade his cargo for money that would pay for a good re-painting on the hull, and some luxury accoutrements. Sadly, he was now stuck at the Bar, with possibly-damaged cargo, and a girl to impress. Great, the Pirate thought, But, maybe I can do this.
He turned towards Ewa, and gestured at his vessel, "This, my dear lady," he said with enough flourish to gag a pea****, "is what you would call the luxury Beryllian space-yacht. Except it's also the Pirate ship, and looks it, don't you think? My ride, the Palkoris."
He slid out a short, wand-like device he had clipped to his new pants, and waved it before Palkoris. A ribbon of light flowed from the wand, and Van made an elaborate pattern. The ship's computer recognized the pattern, and lowered a large block to the ground. The block then opened up into a series of stairs, brushed smooth so that walking up them would not be challenging.
"Since you're not of the cargo, we won't use the ramp, chaasi."
Van walked on ahead into a a fairly well-lit and surprisingly intact lounge area. It was fairly large-ish, comfortable enough for four or five people to sit down and relax. The room was aglow with a pale, warm, yellow light. Two blue curved crescent-shaped communal cushions surrounded a little table that had thankfully not budged an inch in the crash. Naturally, the blankets, pillows, and plants had been jostled around, but the storage panels were closed, which meant the food, drinkware, and other such things were still safely stored away.
The Lounge was connected to a set of stairs that wound their way up to the second level, where the Bridge and Captain's quarters where. And, below the Lounge was the bathing area, where Beryllian noblemen could partake in a warm bath or clean themselves in a shower, even in the lonely depths of space. Three bedrooms were connected to the Lounge, and though they would have been used by crew members or guests, Van was using them as storage space, for now. His cargohold was filled to the brim with all sorts of loot, and the Vivalite was a sudden opportunity he wanted to smuggle before cashing in on his stolen Sedvarian spices, and the more practical crates of ship parts and tools.
Concerned about his Vivalite, as it was far more fragile than spices or stacks of heat shields, Van rushed ahead up into one of the three rooms on the Lounge floor, slid open the doors, and groaned. The rugged metal crates certainly looked out-of-place in this jungle of bright purples, yellows, pinks, and exuberant alien silks, but it was their current position that disappointed him the most. The crates were also jostled haphazardly against the wall, and one was even broken open by the force of the impact, and leaking the tell-tale green liquid that was Vivalte. Panicked, Van suddenly ran from that room, and checked the two others, only to see the same disappointing sight. "Visht. Iko-nyah, sandar vikul ond'la..." (Sh*t. The cargo's totally ruined...)
Exasperated, he turned, only to realize that Ewa was to come aboard. Van grinned, and figured maintenance and more thorough checks would have to wait. He had to show her way to the facilities where she could clean the blood off.
"Come on in, come on in! Don't worry about the mess, I have much to do on the clean up, anyways, chaa. Mmm, the bathrooms are on the downstairs to your right, I'll show you how to get them started. The water-tanks are mostly full, since I'm the only one who really uses them to bathe. Most pirates are, " Van frowned sourly, "Less then hygienic. Not squeaky clean. Not like me!"
It was then that Van remembered his hair. It was still a bit of a mess from the crash. He figured he had to do something up in his room, while she bathed, before surrendering it to her to change in.
Delightful. Finally, I have a chick on my ship again!
-
Van's ship was just as ugly as Ewa remembered, and also rather dented. I guess only the bar itself has self-repairing abilities. Whatever points she might have given it for looking solid, she'd have to take away again for looking like a complete waste of materials. Wherever Van had gotten that beast, it must have been a place rich in resources and poor in aesthetic taste.
He turned towards Ewa, and gestured at his vessel, "This, my dear lady," he said with enough flourish to gag a pea****, "is what you would call the luxury Beryllian space-yacht. Except it's also the Pirate ship, and looks it, don't you think? My ride, the Palkoris."
Ewa hoped some of his pride was meant as a joke, but she wasn't sure. "Certainly you never have to worry about your ship outshining you, Captain." She followed him up into the ship into a sort of living/common room. The crash had left it a bit out of sorts, but other than that it looked comfortable. And white. Ewa didn't think she was dripping blood though, so that was probably okay.
Apparently Van hadn't had a look at his ship since it crashed, because he immediately ran off to check a separate room, then another muttering what was probably a string of curses to himself. Odd way to transport goods. I wonder what the idea behind that was. After a few moments he came back to her.
"Come on in, come on in! Don't worry about the mess, I have much to do on the clean up, anyways, chaa. Mmm, the bathrooms are on the downstairs to your right, I'll show you how to get them started. The water-tanks are mostly full, since I'm the only one who really uses them to bathe. Most pirates are, " Van frowned sourly, "Less then hygienic. Not squeaky clean. Not like me!"
"I'm hardly in a position to judge at the moment," she waggled her blood-covered hands a bit for emphasis. "Thank you for inviting me aboard." She began down the stairs Van had indicated. I hope I don't have to open any doors on the way.
-
~The Palkoris~
Van grinned in response to her statement regarding judgement. She was like any other person, quick to figure the ship was as useless as its heft. Not such a big deal to him, really. Most people wouldn't attack a ship like this unless they either really hated Beryllians, or knew he was a Pirate. And even then, they would be treated to return fire from his many hidden guns and weapons. That is, unless simply let them run out of firepower, first and saved his ammunition for more important skirmishes.
"Right, I'll just open everything up," he headed towards the door leading to the lower level, punched a code to free-unlock, and then it automatically whooshed open. Van carefully made his way down the stairs, as light filled the bathing area below.
A traditional Beryllian bathtub was already beginning to fill with steamy, hot water, and colorful towels that hadn't been touched still hung on racks by a pristine shower stall. Various kinds of shampoos and other products, that seem to have seen little use by anyone but Van, were arranged by the stall. A sweet scent punctuated the sir, and Van sniffed happily, "Mmm, were it not for the femaleness, I'd slip in, too!"
Then, he grinned deviously, "Or, I could forget all that, and slip in anyways. ....Ehhh, nah. Should I tell you how this stuff works, or would you prefer to be lonely, er, alone, chaa?"
-
~The Palkoris~
Ewa moved aside as Van brushed by her to open the door and start down the stairs. That does make things easier. The stairs led into an impressively large bathing room. The bath was already filling with scented water and there was also a shower stall and various sorts of soaps to use.
"Very nice," Ewa said, impressed. She moved over to the bath and rinsed her hands off. It was terribly annoying not being able to use them. As she dried her hands, she laughed. "I could do with some lonesomeness for now, but I'll let you know if it gets to be too much to bear." She winked at him. "Perhaps you'd better show me how some of this works. I'd feel like a complete idiot if I had to run out of here because the bath was overflowing or I mistook a metal solvent for soap or something. Also," she began taking things out of her pockets and setting them aside, careful to keep her supplement vials hidden in the bandages, "would you have some way cleaning these while I'm here?" She gestured to her blood spattered clothes. Her coat sleeves and the knees of her pants were particularly bad.
-
~The Palkoris~
"I'll be happy to clean whatever you've got. Let's see... Ah, right," Van said, as he moved to the shower, "Let me show you how this works, chaa."
He gestured at the shower panel, and carefully explained its functions. The language was Beryllian, and while most people where he was from could read the language to some extent, he had to run through the basics a few times, just to ensure she got it. The soaps and shampoos, and other products, thank goodness, were legit goods that had multilingual labeling.
"The bath has a variety of the scents you can switch to. At the moment, it's set to, mmm... Dan Berries and other plants form the homeworld. This panel here is accessible, and gives you the choices. I'll see if I can switch the on-board language to Common, so don't brain out that you'll be stuck with my tongue for long."
The Pirate headed back over to where Ewa and carefully laid out some things, and grinned back, "If you place your clothes on that platform right by the shower, it will make a the matter-to-energy conversion and go to where the laundry is taken care of. I'll try to figure it out. Uhm, the clothes of myself could fit you, but for now, you can use this robe."
Van walked over and opened a panel from the wall, and placed silky, light blue robe with gold trim by the bath.
Smiling, he gave her a wink, "Well, I'll be off. Just sit a little tightly, and everything should be readable."
Then, he headed back up, carrying the items she left out up to the Bridge. There, things were still clearly a mess. The window he was thrown out of during the crash hadn't fared so well, and his neuro-link system looked pretty bad. The costs of recovering the damages were going to be high, just by a technical standpoint. Van dreaded the thought of having to recalibrate the ship to respond to his thoughts, as well.
At least the computer itself was working, though! He reached over, and turned on the manual controls. Without the neuro-link on, Van was stuck swiping through window after window until he changed the language to Galactic Common. Ewa was probably undressing now, and wouldn't notice the change until she stepped into the shower. He figured that thanks to the language change, she would be able to navigate from there. The toilet was behind the sliding door by the shower, for example, and a sign had indicated it. Van forgot to explain where it was, so this should help.
"Now, to more of the urgent business," he said to himself, "Cleaning her stuff, and then seeing if I could find some of the suitable clothes for her- ah! I forgot! Those!"
Forgetting her supplies, Van rushed off to the Captain's room, and began a wild search for something...
-
|THETA-PI
Theta observed his surroundings. The pod was gray on the inside, with only a wall of blinking lights. The entire thing was operated by interlink. It was nice to have anothr voice in his head, even if it was a computer.
Status., Theta sent.
OPERATIONAL. TRI-40 EXTERIOR ALLOY FRACTURED; SUPERFICIAL. SCUTITE INTERIOR ALLOY UNDAMAGED. INTRADIMENSIONAL FLUX ENGINES READY. Z-SPACE QUANTRYON EMITTERS CHARGED AND READY. G-SPACE TELEMETRY RELAYING. COLLECTIVE INTERLINK NONFUNCTIONAL; ATTEMPTING TO REESTABLISH.
Negative; do not attempt to reestablish interlink with the Collective.
FUNCTION IS AUTOMATIC. AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED TO CARRY OUT REQUESTED PROCEDURE.
Authorization Theta-457 Pi-63947
INTERLINK WITH ALVIE MAINFRAME IS REQUIRED TO AUTHORIZE THIS PROCEDURE.
Theta-Pi sighed instinctively. It felt good to have some of his normal reactions back finally. He knew this pod inside and out - probably because he instantly acquired the schematics - so he removed an airtight panel and snapped some mechanism in half with his clawed hand.
INTERLINK TRANSMITTER DESTROYED. REGENERATING.
Negative; do not attempt to regenerate the Interlink Transmitter.
COMPLIANCE.
Theta-Pi nodded in satisfaction. Maybe having the computer in his head wasn't so comforting...it was a nuisance...
He accessed the G-space relays, the most advanced sensors in the Universe...but the mechanics were to complex to explain to many species. Alternate universes, transdimensional reformation, live sector recreations.
He watched, literally, from behind as Claxter approached his pod. Theta could see anywhere on this rock from any point, any angle, any altitude. He could be in the bar without actually being there. He could be at Claxter's side. And for kicks, he could watch Ossanlin's brain from inside his skull.
Primitive functioning., Theta mused.
-
"Funny thing about people who try to kill you- you don't tend to like them."
With a slight snicker, Sapttus added "I could relate..."
Al frowned, then brushed the spoons on his jacket. He pulled the lid off of the ice cream and stuck in a spoon, holding out the other spoon to Jasper as he continued speaking. "He's dangerous, and he wants Salem dead. What I can't figure out is why he'd come in here and talk to us, instead of just shooting." He looked back at the door out which Rathien had walked. "It's interesting... it seems like he'd almost be my kind of guy, if it weren't for his whole 'gotta kill people' lifestyle."
Sapttus wasn't liking the whole 'wanting Salem dead' thing. He, and Al, were the only people who'd bothered saying more than a sentence to him this entire time. Well, and Ms. Ewa, but... Salem also had the potential of finding a cure. That was too valuable. Way too valuable to not do something about. "Maybe it was too crowded in here. Maybe he wasn't sure how everyone else would respond to a shoot out, so he erred on the safe side. I don't like him though. If there's anything I -...we... - can do to assist either of you in regards to him, let us know. "
"Yes. If he starts making trouble, we'll throw rocks at him." Jasper added, slightly sarcastic. Privately, he said. <<But seriously, what the heck do you think *we* are going to do? Closest thing I have to a weapon is a whittling knife. Loads of good that'll do us.....>>
<<You've got your hologram thingamajigger. Be creative. You're good at that.>>
Jasper blinked. He hadn't thought of using that for anything, like, useful before. Heck, it was still brand new to him. He was going to have to do a lot more than just squiggly lines if this was the case.
"Thanks" They said, accepting the spoon. He scooped out a bite of the orange- and yellow- speckled ice cream, and contemplated it. It looked a lot like Reese's Pieces, yet different somehow. Either way, it was sure to hit the spot. He popped the spoon in his mouth.
-
The scowl covering Mike's face deepens and Terenia flips the comm off, moving to join Illim near the hatch. "Efan can wait," she snaps, peering down at her angrily. She is quickly distracted, however, by Salem's arrival. "You're not coming aboard," she cautions him, moving in front of the hatch defensively, left hand resting on the butt of Mike's Dracon.
Efaen notes Salem's arrival with a single dismissive stalk eye, but she does not deign to speak with him. The trader is of little to no interest to her. Her focus remains on the two Controllers, this time addressing who she assumes is Corliss. <You were so eager to convince me to join your ranks not so long ago,> she says icily. <yet now I seem unable to do so in the manner my Prince has allowed. I will abort this mission and return to the Dome Ship if this is going to become a fruitless venture.>
"Fine," Terenia sneers, glaring at Efaen. She no longer needs the Andalite as a host; her only use is the human DNA she is storing. "Go away, then. I'm sure we'll all be better off."
Efaen's shoulders stiffen and her spine straightens, main eyes narrowing at "Corliss". <Very well, then, Yeerk,> she says coldly, taking a step back. She does not turn to leave, though. The last thing she wants is to admit to her Prince that she has failed in her mission, or that she will be serving aboard the Tyrennian. More likely, she will be placed in some meaningless job fit for females, or shuttled back to the homeworld as too great a risk to the fleet. Both are unacceptable options.
Zorish tilts his head, looking at Serid curiously. "You are an Andalite," he realizes; something he should have picked up on when he first saw the human shadowing Ossanlin. A small, girlish giggle escapes his lips, which twist into a smile. "I do not think I have ever seen an Andalite willing to take on human form. Most of your kind would not dare lower yourselves to mere primitive primates. How intriguing. Tell me, why do you choose to maintain this form?"
He glances at Jocun, "And what makes you believe these Time Matrix fairy tales so easily?"
-
"There have been multiple accounts from multiple sources. The Skrit Na, and the......Andalite bandits of Earth." He said. he hesitated before saying the real species of the rebels. His instincts told him he should be careful about telling this Sub-Visser the Earth rebels were Human. "Upon the capture of the rebels, there was information about the Time Matrix. Information that was deemed too dangerous to be told to the public. There was a leak about the Time Matrix's existence, but not its location. That location remains a secret, and I would rather not scour the Earth for it. If it's even still there."
He glanced over at the Human accompanying the Andalite. He did have an Andalite-like posture. He probably was one of them in morph. He didn't see much reason for an Andalite to pose as a Human. Maybe he was a nothlit. If so, his situation could be worse.
Claxter began wandering away from the wreckage, continuing his search for Theta. Perhaps he would go to his ship and try scanning for nearby cyborgs.
-
Ewa began undressing as soon as Van left the room, stacking her clothes on the platform he had indicated. Both her belt and boots seemed fine, so she kept those back. The shower controls weren't overly complicated, now that they had been explained, but she still couldn't read any of them. At least she could sort of make sense of the various bottles of soap. She had a smattering of Common that was useful for reading some of the translations of human literature, but she was actually much more comfortable with Alliance Paladinian--which she spoke at home--or even English. It would have been a useless language to know in any other profession, but many members of her family believed in getting as close to the source material as possible.
Mostly she relied on her nose to decide which of the soaps to use. Why does Van need so many of these things? It felt wonderful, just letting the warm water flow down her whole body, but the bath waiting outside sounded even more tempting. When was the last time I had a bath? Maybe that medieval fantasy scape a year ago? The family Compound didn't have any baths.
When she stepped out, she noticed that her pile of clothes had disappeared. She paused for a moment by the tub, thinking. The scent wafting from the water was sweeter than what she would normally prefer, but even though she could read some of the other options, she wasn't really sure what any of them were. And that might necessitate refilling the bath, which would be a waste of water. Ewa figured she would feel cold and silly waiting for it too. No time like the present then.
She sank down into the tub, her hair floating out around her. It was wonderful and warm and relaxing, and just the sort of place to not think about anything for a while. If a few things in the back of her head tried to surface, they were at least temporarily overwhelmed by the physical pleasure of the moment.
-
Inside the Captain's Quarters, Van had made out a rather comfortable room for himself. Inside was a comfy bed, covered in luxurious sheets of delicately embroidered plant motifs. A hanging plant dangled from the ceiling, though it looked a little worse for wear. A large window was at the right side of the bed, its thick sill covered in pots of yet more plants of various kinds. The privacy shutters were drawn over the window, and on them, several glowing panels detailing the status of the ship were available, most of which were flashing red.
Van ignored all that and opened up a closet in the back. He leafed through gun parts, clothes, packets of food, and plenty of bizarre alien jewelry searching for something that would suit Ewa. He crawled in deeper, and found a chest filled with makeup -Having various aliases meant he had to look the part- and several piles of delicately made wigs, meant to bond with his hair and make him look like anything other than Beryllian.
Eventually he found the storage panel at the bottom, and thrust it open. "Aha! There they are! I wonder if they are going to fit her, chaa? Mmm, nichaa..."
Van plucked up several carefully stored dresses, skirts, and colorful armored blouses. All of it was women's clothing, and meant to grant Van one of his most notorious disguises: a lady. Women were great at deceiving people throughout history, and lucky for Van, he looked an awful lot like one. Altering his pitch to sound feminine wasn't hard, and his slender body was often mistaken for that of a woman's, despite his flat chest. Really, he was quite androgynous, but for Van, that just made the game all the more fun.
However, tricking Ewa in this fashion wasn't on his mind. Van picked out a couple clothes he thought she would like, and set them aside. Then, he got up, and left the room, picking up the items she asked him to clean, and headed down another set of stairs to the maintenance level and cargo bay.
Down there, he could do the laundry. By the time he arrived, her clothes were ready to be tossed into the machine, and washed. It didn't look as if the machine was broken, so Van rather carelessly threw them in. It was built to clean the delicate clothes of nobility, so Van wasn't worried about how they would turn out. In fact, the only time that machine had broken was when Niccolo Cassini threw his dirty boots and gun holster in there, only to cause a small fire five minutes later.
Though Van was plenty worried about the Vivalite, making sure Ewa was attended to was important. The pirate eventually climbed back upstairs after cleaning the bloodstains off her items, and headed back into the Lounge. He figured she wouldn't want to eat, so instead, he set about cleaning up the room.
"Siyan Ah-calmesen-nyah, daljiri sichaa? Tasin, chaa!" (Status of the main engines, would you, please? Now!)
The computer barely broke out a proper sentence, but from Van's guess, the engine worked properly, though other systems were rather broken. "Tch! It doesn't take the genius to guess that," he muttered.
-
All grinned at Jasper. "I don't like the guy either, but if he knows who I am, at least I can stop doing Salem's little thing and going incognito or whatever. Having to shut up and sit still just makes me antsy." I'll let Salem know that you're willing to back him up if anything goes down between him and Rathien, but I'm not sure what you could do. I'm not sure what I could do either. I'm pretty useless in a fight," he said with a grin. "Much more of a lover than a fighter."
He stuck his spoon into the ice cream and pulled out a large spoonful, which he contemplated for a moment before stuffing into his mouth. "I don't think... Ahhh!" He screamed, clutching his head. "Oh cold! Oh, very cold! Ow! Ow... ow ow ow..." He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and let his head fall to the counter with a thump. After a few moments, he turned his head to Jasper with it still lying on the counter. "Ice cream is cold," he said in a pitiful voice.
Salem glanced at Efaen. Something was weird here. She very obviously did not like the Yeerk who stood at the top of the ramp. He smirked at Terenia, still under the impression that he was talking to Corliss. "Yeah, yeah, Yeerk, I get it by now. No me on your ship. You have a real problem with repeating yourself, you know?" He held up the little device he'd grabbed- a transparent, glass-like cylinder, about the size of a baby-food jar, capped with what looked like finely-polished copper at both ends, with a metallic bit of wire or string extending from the center of one of the copper ends. "No need for me to come aboard if you pay attention and learn to operate this thing. Think you're up for it? It's pretty simple, but I'm a little worried that you, specifically..." he stopped, feigning embarrassment. "Never mind." He smirked.
"All you should need to do is stick this," he said, holding up the silver string, "directly into your power stream. Then you twist this," he said, turning the opposite end of the container. "Sends the signal to the Malleon that this is ready. They know it's coming, so they know to head for the source. They'll make their way into the container here," he indicated the glass container. "When they're all aboard, the ones on my ship will call me. And then, I guess, I'll just... shout or something. Maybe call you. Then you just pull the tube out, close up your power supply, and bring this thing back to me. If anything happens to them, my Andalite friend here and I are storming the place, tails blazing," he said, jerking a thumb at Efaen. He was quick to send Efaen a private thought-speak message, fully aware of the average Andalite's sense of humor... or lack thereof. <<Of course, I'm only joking, Andalite. For effect.>> He continued speaking to Terenia, "Think you can manage that?" Without waiting for an answer, he lobbed the container underhand up the ramp at her. "Catch."
-
"Well.. I'm not sure what I could do either, but... I dunno. I'll uh.. find something? I guess?" Jasper said. "I've never been in a fight before either. I'll just uh.. have to be smart... yeah... something like that." He said, pulling the creamy chocolatey deprived spoon from his mouth. Between the drink and the desert, he was actually feeling a lot better. Anxiety attack diverted. He jumped when Al started screaming, having no clue what the heck what was happening. "Uh... yeah... it's called "ice" cream, dude. It's... kinda cold. You've never had it before? You sure you've been to Earth before?" He grinned at the last part. Ice cream was like, a staple. Sapttus laughed internally. "What you are feeling, my friend, is referred to as 'Brain Freeze'. Though how an android is experiencing that sensation, I do not quite understand." Sapttus looked confused momentarily, but then they shook his head and chuckled. "I hope you don't mind me prying and all, but...." Jasper began "... Im just dying to know... well.. everything. You don't know how cool it is for me to be talking to a real android right now. So um.. yeah, if you don't mind... I'd love to hear a bit about yourself."
-
Terenia grabs for the container, catching it a little clumbsily and drawing it into her chest. <Why the hell do you have to be left-handed?> she complains, wrapping Mike's hand tightly around the container and letting her glare flit between Salem and Efaen. How much time have those two gotten to know one another while I was stuck blind and helpless in the pool? she wonders. She has no doubt that Efaen would relish the chance to attack them, despite the fact that she has not followed through with her threat to leave.
"Yeah, string in the power stream, twist the end, you'll shout when they're all gone," Terenia repeats sharply, taking a step back. She lowers her voice so that only Illim can hear. "Trouble is, how the hell do I trust that the dapsen is being honest. I guess we have no choice right now." Raising her voice again, she addresses Salem. "This had better not be another fancy trick of yours, Salem." Without another word she turns, leaving Illim at the hatch and making for the main computer. She sizes it up. <Alright,> she says to Mike. <Power source.>
Efaen watches the exchange, uncertain what it is they are talking about. She is surprised to hear thought-speak from the one known as Salem; from Terenia's experiences she knew that he had a sort fo thought-speak weapon, but she was not aware that he could communicate in the normal Andalite fashion as well.
<<Are you a nothlit?>>> she asks him, her intrigue adequately distracting her from having to make the decision to stay or leave.
"Stories and fables," Zorish says dismissively. "Even if there is truth behind them, what good will that do me? I can't investigate a device that is light years away, and hidden at that. This bar is here, and it is most certainly of interest to me. Perhaps for similar reasons as your Time Matrix, perhaps not." He smiles a little, "As our Andalite friend here was quick to point out, my specialty is in intelligence. Cultural intelligence, specifically. It is for me to equip my people with enough knowledge to adequately infiltrate Earth without raising alarms. We do not all have the benefit of human hosts to learn from." He shrugs. "As a side product of my profession, I suppose you could say that I've developed a certain affinity for the....taste of different places throughout the galaxy, if you catch my meaning. And this place has a very unique taste, indeed."
-
"I believe my original point was just that you should be careful." Jocun said. "Regardless of whether or not the Time Matrix is real."
-
Ewa focused her awareness on her breathing, the slow rise and fall of her chest, her body floating away from the surface of the tub. She closed her eyes and the immediate world fell away, her mind at once narrowing to the singular experience that was her body living in the warm water, and expanding to comprehend the minutia it encompassed. Slow breath. Relaxing muscles. Expanding joints. Tiny currents of water moving sensuously through her hair. Nothing to orient her or draw her back. Like floating out past forever. The universe was floating, and she was the universe.
I could use this time to plan, if I knew who I was, her mind surfaced, popping the sense of nonidentity but leaving the stillness untouched. You'd think I'd at least remember why I came here, with no character past to interfere. Maybe I didn't choose to come here myself. Maybe Van and that other male didn't chose to be injured. Here to dance on desperate strings for a twisted mind, and we musn't speak a word. Or can't speak a word? Damage a few minds to hurt one another, damage a few more to hurt themselves. Like a hidden vein of reality in a dream. So much blood.
Ewa opened her eyes and sat up in the bath, water falling off her upper body like a sheet. She felt clean and rested and calm--more ready and able to confront the disturbing details of this scape. Not sure how to drain the tub, or even if she was supposed to, she simply climbed out and dried herself off. After shifting a few of the soap bottles she found a comb to work a few of the tangles out of her hair. It went straight into a ponytail after that, still wet or no. Don't want it getting in the way again. Only two of her knives had straps--one for her left arm and the other her right ankle. The others she'd have to carry around until she had real clothes again. In the meantime she slipped into the blue robe, tying it loosely at the waste. The last thing to go on were her boots. She felt a little silly, wearing them with the robe, but she already had enough to carry and it seemed inappropriate to just leave them there in the meantime.
She gathered up the rest of her belongings, tucking them under one arm, and headed back up the stairs to the living room. Van had managed to put it mostly to rights in her absence.
"It was a wonderful bath," she thanked him, smiling beatifically. "I wasn't sure how to drain the water though. Or do you reuse it?"
-
Al breathed deeply for a minute and then lifted his head and smiled at Jasper. "Of course I've had ice cream before. It's not just big on Earth anymore where I come from." He grinned, "I guess I just forgot that I'm simulating human physiological responses to substances. Makes it so I can get drunk. And get brain freezes, apparently. It tastes so much better when the chocolate can actually affect endorphin release, though." He took another spoonful, smaller this time, and stuck it into his mouth, closing his eyes. "Mmm..."
Al grinned when they asked to hear more about him. "Alright, I'll tell you a story, but you've gotta promise to reciprocate," Al said. "Meeting interesting people is half of why I am who I am."
He cleared his throat dramatically, brought his arms up, and locked the elbows at right angles, and his movements became abrupt. Overall, it was a pretty good robot impression. "I am Al-3PO," he began his voice altered to sound slightly tinny, a little more robotic, and a bit more effeminate, "boogie-cyborg relations. I am fluent in over six million billion bajillion..." He momentarily dropped his imitation-robot veneer and grinned at Jasper with a shrug, "or at least a couple dozen..." He then switched smoothly back into his robot imitation, "forms of entertainment." His voice now switched to a very exaggerated impression of William Shatner's halting speech pattern so often associated with his portrayal of James Kirk. "These are the voyages of the android Al. On his ongoing mission to seek out new fun and new entertainment. To learn everything that ever has or ever will be enjoyed. For Boo-Yah. For Squee. And for party animals everywhere."
He laughed and returned to his normal speech pattern, "I was built by a guy everybody's gotten to referring to as Squee the Great. I still maintain that you can't choose your nickname yourself, but history's kind of proven me wrong. Basically, short version, he built me to have a thorough understanding of fun and entertainment in the universe, and together we founded Furka, which has kind of grown into a big deal. Think of it as a club, spanning the entire galaxy, centered around nothing other than having fun, in all possible ways, all the time!" He became more and more excited as he spoke, making bigger and bigger hand movements, until finally, as he said "all the time," he whirled his arms around and almost fell off his stool. He caught himself on the edge of the bar and laughed.
"I spent ages and ages just traveling Furka, partying and playing and singing and yelling and learning and reading and hiking and flying and just generally having a ridiculously good time. Then, one fateful night..." In spite of himself, Al changed his hologram so that his face appeared shaded over the eyes, in the way it might be if he was wearing a large hood and trying to be dramatic. "I got really messed up," he said, his voice growing deep and gravely, like Christian Bale's Batman. "Needed a ride home. I knew a guy from way back. We'd spoken before. He struck me as the trustworthy type, in my drunken state, so I asked him for a ride. And that's when things got sour."
His hologram faded back to normal, the shading across his eyes disappearing, and he smiled and shrugged, "Long story short, we got knocked into another universe, and have been getting kicked from one universe to another ever since. The guy was Salem, in case you'd missed that."
He took another bite of ice cream. "So, your turn, guys. I'm much better at listening to stories than I am at telling them." He rested his chin in his hands, stared at Jasper with a smile that was halfway between friendly and creepy, and fluttered his eyelashes.
Salem watched as Terenia turned and walked back into the ship, then turned to Efaen and smiled, "No, not a nothlit. Not anymore. I'm fully human." <<I just happen to be able to thought-speak. It's a recent Andalite development.>> He looked her up and down, and smiled, "I don't believe I've caught your name. We've been crossing paths at this bar enough that we should probably at least know each other's names, right? I'm Salem." He smiled and performed a slight, respectful bow. "And you... you carry yourself almost like a warrior, in spite of being female. Does that mean the Electorate is finally starting to get things right?"
-
It was a rather fascinating story. At least for Sapttus. Jasper enjoyed it as well, but... really, he'd been hoping for more of a technical/mechanical explanation rather than a personal history. That was nice too, of course, but... well, the geek within was left wanting. No matter though.. surely there'd be another chance. "Fascinating." Sapttus said. He's laughed at the Star Wars reference, but only after Jasper had pointed it out to him.
<<Interesting fellow.>>
<<You got that right.>>
<<You want to lead this one, or...?>>
<<I uh... I guess so.>>
"Well, um... I don't know where to start, really...." Jasper began, still enjoying the chocolatey ice cream.
<<How about the beginning?>>
<<...you just wanted to be smart, now didn't you? I doubt he cares much where I was born....>>
<<He might like to know.>> Sapttus gave the mental equivalent of a shrug.
<<...Oi.>>
"Uh... Okay, well, I uh... I'm a draftsman. Always have been, really. Oh, that's kinda like an architect, but the work is different. I do more actual drawing, instead of planning and stuff. I like it better that way. I'm... I'm kinda good at it, I guess. Apparently, the Yeerks thought so too. One night, my boss asked me to stay late at work to finish up on a project. Well... after everyone else left, I got dragged into his office, where they infested me. With uh, Sapttus. I was totally freaked out by it, but... I dunno, I got used to it I guess. Not like all my crying and begging did anything anyways. Anyways, Sapttus worked in "Infrastructure Reassessment", as they called it. Basically, he used my talents to make adjustments to human building plans so that the Yeerks could use them. Like... he made secret entrances and stuff like that. But he did it so that it was was hidden, y'know? It all blended in. That's why they grabbed me for the job." There wasn't much ice cream left, Jasper noticed. He'd been munching away at it a lot, so he slid the container over to Al, wanting him to have the rest, if he wanted.
"Well, after a while, Sapttus and I started to get along pretty well. It just... sorta happened, I guess. I was cooperating with him on the projects he was given, and, well, we just became friends. I started to think of him as a roommate rather than an alien slavemaster. After that, it was pretty much like it was before. Went to work every day, made some drawings, and went home. But it was better, because now I had a friend. Not like... i didn't have any before, but... it's different."
"Anyways... well, then there was that one day. We went to this grocery store we hadn't been to before. They had a special sale. One of the sale items was 'Instant Maple and Ginger Oatmeal'. So uh... we figured we'd give it a shot. That was a big mistake. Needless to say, we went back to that store many, many times. I've had a lot more oatmeal in the past 16 months than most people have in their lives, I swear. Eventually, the uh, Empire figured out that it was addictive, and they made it contraband. Sapttus and I didn't know what to do. We hid, like we had been for a while. Kept our secret safe. But it was getting harder and harder. And it was getting dangerous, too. Bad things happened to people the Visser caught with the stuff."
"Then, well... one day, there was this big commotion while we were leaving the Pool. The Andalite Bandits were attacking, or something, and everyone was going crazy. In all the madness, one of us... maybe both of us, I dunno... had an idea. We snagged a barrel of confiscated oatmeal, stashed it on a Bug Fighter, and high-tailed it out of there. We were lucky to make it here alive. Not like we were headed here, it was.. an accident, really. But it seems to be working out so far."
Jasper shifted, and tapped his spoon on the counter like a nervous tic. "I uh, guess that's it, really. That's.. pretty much our story."
-
Illim nods in agreement with Terenia and is about to turn away from the hatch when Salem says something interesting: "No, not a nothlit. Not anymore. I'm fully human." The comment's implications are stunning, even though he he's already heard similar suggestions earlier in the day. Still, he cannot help but feel he should contact Serid immediately.
Salem's comment is seemingly unprompted, which indicates that Efaen must have been speaking to the trader privately. But what could have prompted her inferred question? What about him had signified to her that he had once been able to morph?
Illim remains still in the doorway, happy to eavesdrop for as long as they're willing to talk. It seems there is more to this businessman than he had imagined.
Serid raises an eyebrow, his back stiffening in mixed indignation at being found out and pride that his true species is recognized. "What prompts you to suggest such a thing?" he asks Zorish, ignoring the Yeerk's own questions. He glances to Ossanlin for his reaction.
-
<<I sure as hell hope this works,>> Terenia says, getting down on her knees and opening the panel that leads to the internal computer systems. <<I don't think Corliss will be too happy if I break his ship.>> She inspects the area beneath the computer blankly for a moment, searching for a memory of Mike's that will make sense of the jumble. <<Right, okay,>> she takes a deep breath and pushes some of the wiring aside carefully. Grunting, she shifts forward, not used to the larger, male body she is inhabiting. "I think I got it..." she murmurs out loud, taking the thin wire from the container Salem had given her and feeding it into the main power source. "Okay, here goes," she mutters, twisting the opposite end of the canister and waiting, hoping she hasn't just been tricked into blowing the whole ship to smithereens.
Efaen straightens her spine further, standing so severely straight that it looks painful, acknowledging his bow with a slight dip of her tail and stalk eyes. <<I am Warrior Efaen-Purinial-Loreth,>> she says, keeping her thought-speak private. <<The Electorate has allowed select females to enter the service. I am an estreen, and was recruited for my superior morphing capabilities.>> She inspects Salem's features curiously, her expression never changing. <<I suppose I should not be surprised that yet another human has acquired Andalite technology, yet this is technology I have never witnessed. How did you come about obtaining it?>>
Zorish laughs lightly. "If you were human you would be trying to put as much distance between you and that tail blade as possible," he says, glancing at Ossanlin. "Instead you are following him around like some sort of lackey. I don't think I have seen you step more than a few feet away from him." She gives him a small smirk, sensing that she is correct. "Besides, no true, free human sits that straight or speaks in such an infuriating manner."
-
"I agree with the Sub Visser. Your behavior doesn't fit an average Human's. I'm sorry if you've lost your morphing ability. The ability to change forms, however briefly, can be quite amazing. I'm not sure if our people have developed anything to reverse the effects of nothitism. Not that you'd be likely to trade anything to me for that ability again."
-
Zorish looks at Jocun in surprise. "You know more about the morphing ability than I do," he surmises. "I presumed that he merely chose the human form for some purpose that is yet to be seen." He glances at Serid, "Perhaps the War-Prince ordered him to do so to lure me into a sense of comfort. If one tail blade is unpleasant, two are practically intolerable." Curious, he purses his lips. "How can you tell he is a nothlit?" Zorish asks of Jocun.
-
"I don't know for certain, though you brought up some good points. Personally I'm not too bothered by tail blades. We're all civilized people here, I hope. As long as no one makes unprovoked attacks, we should all be able to enjoy ourselves."
-
Serid looks increasingly irritated by the moment at Zorish and Jocun's exchange.
Finally he snaps, interrupting their conversation, "Neither of you have any reason to believe that I am an Andalite or a nothlit. Humans are perfectly capable of bravery, good sense and formality."
-
"In that case, I would tip my hat if I had one. You would be in the minority, I believe. What is your name, Human?" Jocun asked. He didn't really care what the guy was, and he wouldn't get anything out of making the guy admit to nothlitism or being fond of Humans in public. It seemed to be a touchy subject with the guy.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin glances at the strange Imperial from the place where infested Andalites were supposedly the norm. <It is a nexus of realities monitored and perhaps created by an independent being rivaling or surpassing the power of Ellimist and Crayak.> He glances his main eyes back at Zorish. <And this power is what decides who comes and where they go when they leave. You speak of meddling with a power beyond your comprehension.>
He glances at Serid as he snaps at the controllers. <<Calm, Warrior. Do not allow your emotions to alter your judgement.>>
He moves his main eyes back to Zorish. <I am not attempting to lure you into a sense of security, Imperial. How many times have I said that it would simply be best for you and your host to leave and never come back? If I thought that more tail-blades hovering around you would make you uncomfortable enough to leave, I would've done it already. Why do you think I ordered you to remove the power-cell from your Dracon?>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Rathien~
Rathien watches as both Van and Ewa mount the stairs of the rock-like craft. The supposed pirate didn't even bother to close the door behind him. Rathien grins to himself as he slowly mounts the stairs, looking around. The craft was almost posh enough to belong to a Hegemon, except that the exterior was obviously more citizen-class. The ship's sensors might manage to pick up traces of Rathien's presence, but he isn't too terribly worried about it. Likely Van was so distracted by Ewa's presence that he'd only be thinking about how to get her into bed.
He moves through the lounge area and then moves off to the side as he watches Van go by, coming from what would normally be the crew quarters of the ship. A sweet, sharp smell reaches his nose. It might be too light or indistinct for a being with lesser sensory capabilities to pick up, but it was thick enough for Rathien to follow the trail. He opens the first crew-quarters door and chuckles. The smell is almost overpowering in here with crates toppled and cracked, liquid on the floor. Rathien dips a finger into the pooling liquid, dabbing it on his tongue before spitting off to the side. Just as he'd suspected...Vivalit e. Probably contraband from the looks of it. The pirate had taken a big hit on this.
He pulls an undisturbed vial from one of the intact crates and studies it. He disarms his active camo, smiling to himself as he fades back into view in the crew room. He walks forward and leans sideways in the doorframe, still examining the vial as if nothing else mattered in the Universe. No one would see him unless they walked down the hallway, but the startlement would be an enjoyment in and of itself, unless of course the Beryllian had already detected his presence...he doubted that heavily.
-
Al nodded at Jasper, "Reassessing building plans... that kinda sounds like what Furka's done in the past, only we use it to put in trap doors or secret water slides, or to insulate with marshmallows. Secret entrances for... what, exactly?"
As he listened to the rest of their tale, he smiled. "That sounds a lot like Salem and I in a way. We could not stand each other at first, but as time went by, we got to be better and better friends. He's my main man these days." He grinned, "It seems like, if you spend enough time with someone, you kind of have to start to like them after a while. You'll lose it if you don't. Man..." He stared at Jasper's forehead, "I can't imagine sharing my head with someone I don't like. One little ship was bad enough."
He laughed when Jasper mentioned their oatmeal addiction, "Well, there are definitely worse addictions you could have, my friend. At least oatmeal's tasty. I've seen people addicted to some really messed up stuff in my time. This one guy had a thing for rhino poo."
He finished off most of the ice cream in two slow, savory spoonfuls, and slid the container, still containing about one large bite's worth of the stuff, back to Jasper. "So you guys kind of got lucky by getting here then, huh?" he asked, looking at them with interest. "What exactly were you planning on doing with a stolen Yeerk ship if you hadn't happened upon this place?"
The Malleon received the signal from the chamber Salem had given Terenia, and began to move towards the wire. As they did so, they began to scream. Their collective voices, all crying out in pain and fear, were strong enough to be "heard" by anyone nearby. It was telepathic- much like thought-speak, and though they were screaming, there were no distinct words. Though there was the sensation of a song of dread being sung, there was no distinct sound, even in the heads of those aboard the Skimmer. There was only the haunting, overpowering sensation that millions of voices were confused, panicked, and in agony. After a few moments, the effect faded away, leaving an aura of desolation and mourning in its wake, as the rest of the Malleon made their way up the 'wire.'
Salem smiled at Efaen, "It's a long story, actually. The short version is that it was a trade agreed upon between myself and the Electorate. The long version involves far more Andalite politics than would be interesting to hear about. Andalite technology tends to be difficult to come by for those of us who weren't born Andalite. Suffice it to say that I have spent a fair amount of time among your people."
He tilted his head- he'd never actually seen an estreen morph, but of course he knew of them. "I'm glad to hear that the Electorate is apparently making their trial programs with females a bit more widespread. I've spent years telling the Electorate that females are at least as capable as males, if not moreso."
He shivered as the 'song' of the Malleon began to wash over him. He was apparently near enough to catch a bit of the effect. Internally, his emotions were at war- on one side, the melancholy coldness brought on by the Malleon, and on the other, a sense of amusement that they'd actually done this. He very nearly burst out laughing, but managed to contain it to smirking up the ramp at Illim.
-
Sapttus blinked. "Secret entrances for the Yeerk Pool, of course. We don't exactly try to advertise..." he then allowed Jasper to resume his tale.
"Haha, you've got that right. Of course, we still drive each other pretty crazy some times... all puns intended." Jasper grinned. Sapttus rolled his eyes.
"That's... that's just disgusting. Yeah, you've got a point for sure. Breakfast cereal is certainly a lot more... socially acceptable. Oh gosh, that's just gross...."
Jasper snorted. "I'm not so sure about 'lucky' other than the fact that we didn't end up smack dab in the middle of a star." Sapttus said. "Truth be told, I'm still assessing whether or not this is a fortunate turn of events for us. At the least, his head hasn't been removed from the rest of his body, so for that, I am grateful. As he is, as well, thought that may go without saying. To answer your question though, we honestly had no plans farther than leave and don't get caught. We've succeeded so far. But now... we're still deciding what to do next."
<<I know what we're doing next.>>
<<And what would that be, oh one of infinite wisdom?>>
<<Pester Salem for that cure....>>
<<Well yes, obviously that. Though we mustn't be rude....>> Sapttus took hold of the ice cream.
<<..no... you know I can't... it's just...>>
<<Oh, fine, fine.. but you say it though.>>
"Oh uh, thanks..." Jasper said, holding up the ice cream. "...but.. I dunno, I've got this thing about taking the last of anything. I just... I don't like to. It's this stupid little quirk of mine... But uh, someone's got to enjoy it, so here." He hands back the pint, smiling.
<<Yeah, 'cuz I feel just a bit weird now...>> Jasper said.
Sapttus simply laughed.
-
"Eh, chaa, the water could be taken to the drain, but just leave it there. For all we know, the compu-nyah might make a mess of the plumbing! Your clothes are taking a clean, and they will be completed on, anh, maybe the twenty minutes."
Van glanced off, his eyes glazed over with exhaustion, "I still have to add up my losses, but not now, of course. The real question here is... Ewa. Who are you? I didn't get the catch up on where you came from back at the Bar, chaa."
He relaxed, and sat down, adjusting a soft round pillow at his side. Leaning forward, Van explained, "Eyeball this: that a Mar-Not-Mar and other lookalikes exist, plus that creepy Rathien... Lord Rathien... Qurovangulsa-te. You know, you're not Beryllian. You kind of look like one, but I don't feel it, you take the get?"
Van bit his lip, and noted that a feeling of anxiety hung in the air. It was probably just his imagination, brought on by the poor state of the Vivalite. That green life-renewing drug would have sold for over 20,000 credits, where he was from. But, it was terribly strong stuff, too pure. In order to work right, it needed to be diluted a bit, which was no big feat. And, despite that, this was the best ratio that you could pirate, far better than the useless colored-water mixes that cheap marketers would hawk as the real thing.
"Mmm. You look sexy," Van chirped with a grin.
Ewa seemed very comfortable with her surroundings now, and Van could smell the scents of the homeworld all over her drying hair. She looked stunning, despite the less-than-fashionable "boots under bathrobe" look. Van thought she looked like a lady pirate.
Ewa certainly looked the part, knives in hand, just a bathrobe covering her supple, beautiful flesh. Van rather liked how the tie cinched her waist, establishing her sensual curves with a silky, blue sheen. She looked ready to take on a boarding party with her blades at the ready, shod in boots that were so clearly made for walkin'... Her hair looked like Beryllian hair, yet she wasn't one. Ewa's beauty both intrigued and disappointed Van. He didn't feel quite like he deserved her, which was ridiculous.
I just don't feel it. The "eyomi", that sixth sense. The smell-sight, as Humans called it. She doesn't give it off... The pirate wrinkled his nose, and hung his head, pretending to be disappointed about his losses. In reality, it was the fact that she so obviously wasn't of his own kind.
[*Qurovangulsa-te means, "That person above me in status, to whom I feel mild discontent"]
-
~Rathien~
Rathien listens as Van goes on in the other room, the words clearly audible from where he's standing, especially for his extra-sensitive ears. The Beryllian was really coming on strong...if he asked her to his bed-chamber, Rathien might have to spoil the surprise of his presence and follow if only to disrupt him...or try to join them, though he figured neither of them would be amenable to such at this point in time.
Meanwhile he turns the vial over and over in his hands, peering into the green liquid. So, this was concentrated even? The pirate's losses were more than Rathien had first thought. If diluted properly the Vivalite would've made a much large quantity. This stuff was more or less green gold...more than gold actually. Rathien runs his tongue over his fang again subconsciously as he continues to listen.
-
"Yes, Andalite, you've made your distaste regarding my presence abundantly clear," Zorish says dryly. He shoots Serid a curious look, but drops the matter for the time being. He has more important concerns. "A nexus of relities monitored and created by whom, I wonder," he frowns a little, then shrugs. "Something utterly beyond my ability to interpret, I'm sure you'll say, mighty Andalite."
<<Will you stop doing that?>> Tamora says fearfully.
<<Calling him Andalite? Well he is one.>>
<<You're egging him on,>> she says. <<He already doesn't trust you or like you and wants us to leave. Why make it worse?>>
<<Old habits die hard,>> Zorish responds. <<I was not brought up to show love for Andalites.>>
<<Or hosts,>> Tamora points out. Zorish has no response to that.
Zorish clears his throat and offers Ossanlin a thin smile. "My apologies An- War Prince. I can assure you that I am not here seeking out a new Imperial outpost. Or to harm anyone. I am merely enjoying a drink, and expressing my interest in your stories. If you would prefer I can seek out company besides yourself."
Terenia's eyes widen, and she jerks back at the telepathic onslaught. <<What the hell,>> she yelps internally. It takes all of her willpower to hold the wire steady, waiting for Salem's call that the microbes were gone. She swallows hard, feeling a sort of emptiness inside that reminds her of the moments after she had killed Tammy.
"Christ," she murmurs, glad that she is already kneeling. Mike's body feels unsteady.
<<Females make ideal warriors,>> Efaen agrees. <<We possess a greater aptitude for morphing, hand-eye coordination and our reflexes are faster. The latter of which is helpful when piloting a ship.>> She pauses as the Malleons scream reaches her, but otherwise makes no outward indication of having 'heard'. The next time she speaks, though, her own thoughts are softer, more pained. <<Who...what is creating that awful sound?>>
-
<<Dang, what was that? Sounds like something went wrong. Salem didn't mention the Malleon things being so broken up about having to leave.>> Derrel said.
"You know, it might be interesting to hear about the war from the side of Andalites. I've only heard it from the Yeerk's point of view." Jocun said.
-
Ewa's expression had fallen into a still calm as Van worried about someone and Rathien, sympathetic, but still removed from acute anxiety. She smiled again when he told her she looked sexy. She didn't feel particularly sexy at the moment, but she was very comfortable with herself and it was nice to be admired. He's still worried about something. "You kind of look like one, but I don't feel it". Didn't understand where I said I was from.
"Actually, Van, I was thinking..." She paused abstractedly and set most of her stuff down, joining him on the couch. "You said there was something strange about the injured man. And something you can't feel from me." She paused, organizing her thoughts into sharable categories and words as she shifted to face Van. "There was something very wrong about him. Not the way his body was broken." She stared intently into Van's eyes, watching for some indication that he understood what she was talking about. That it was the same thing that had bothered him. Ewa lifted a hand and placed it at the back of Van's neck. It was an intimate posture, if not blatantly seductive. And close to the central nervous system. Now to make this definitive....
Ewa's eyes glittered mischievously and a playful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Maybe you'd like to help me forget about that for a while?" At the same time she sent an unvocalized scream of terror and confinement and despair. Hopefully neither of us is broken.
-
<<What the bloody hell is that?>> Mike cries, his mind reeling.
Even Corliss can feel the pull of the Malleons' agony, draining him.
-
Ewa listened to Van intently, and as time passed, an increasingly worried look clouded her beautiful face. Van glanced up, but she had moved, and sat beside him, her hips against his. Then, she reached around, and lightly touched his neck.
A hot shock raced through Van's nerves from that point, and caused a warm, tingling feeling. Van's face reddened, his palms began to sweat, and he felt his heart race, his chest tighten. Certainly her actions were subtle, friendly, but Van found them flirtatious, thanks to his belief that she was just out of his reach.
She posed a serious question, which brought Van back into reality. Her troubles centered around the injured newcomer to the Bar, and like Van, she was confused about his state.
"That man disturbs me," Van sighed, his voice deepening slightly, "His wounds were too many and too deep. Remember the 'piano'? I told you about the eyomi, the smell-sight, a sense that Beryllians have."
He paused, well-aware that he just abandoned his telltale accent. This was serious business, and there was no time for games, "Those wounds were real, and quite unnatural. Nobody should be able to talk in that condition, and he was losing too much blood to stay conscious. I almost wanted to poke him with the heat bayonet to cauterize those wounds, but the feeling of morbidity was..."
The pirate glanced off. He didn't want to admit that he was afraid, but at the same time, he felt a sense of security around this woman. He shifted his weight, and grasped her arm. It was obvious to the both of them that he was going to admit his fear. And, knowing that, Van easily understood her desire for comfort, to be taken away. At her voice, Van felt a sense of elation well up within him, and the tension loosened.
"Nichaa," he began softly, "I assume you want to explore the Captain's quarters?"
Van smiled playfully, referring not just to his room, but his body. The innuendo was delightfully suggestive, and he knew she would catch on. He had no idea they were being watched; a full-blood Beryllian would have noticed immediately, and would have been quick to defend his lovely acquisition. And had Van been paying any attention, he too, would have noticed the presence, lineage aside.
But, Van was caught up in other things, and his worries were quickly melting away. His senses deadened in that one aspect, and were set ablaze with passion.
Ewa, you want me that badly? Why, I would be honored! I would so delighted to have you. In fact, it's rather my style to get them first...
-
~Ossanlin~
<I believe I have made my desires rather clear to you, Zorish. Since you have no intention of following them, I have no choice but to watch you extensively.> Ossanlin takes another drink of the mint water, ignoring the slight about his "stories" insinuating that what he was saying was anything other than fact.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _____________
~Rathien~
Rathien continues to listen as the conversation between Van an Ewa becomes more and more risque, then closes his eyes in a bit of pain at the horrible pun the Beryllian had made. As he continues to peer through the vial of Vivalite in his hand, another thought works its way through his head. The Beryllian really did not like him...it could be fun to take something another didn't want to give, and it was always fun when they fought. But Rathien is on Van's terms at the moment, so to speak. Aboard the Beryllian's vessel where he had the advantage. It was possible if Rathien showed himself too soon, that it might end up with him outside the vessel empty-handed while Van had all the fun.
If they did indeed go to the Captain's Quarters as Van had put it, and still didn't notice his presence...instead of interrupting them Rathien considers making off with what undamaged Vivalite he can. As the vial in his hand showed, there was still some viable product. If Rathien could take whatever was left, it would probably net him enough to not worry about money for quite some time. Of course money was never his object, but it was necessary to continue the Hunt. Opportunities needed to be capitalized upon when presented.
-
"Very well, then," Zorish says with a shrug. "I hope I do not bore you too much with my activities here." He offers Ossanlin a wide, slightly mocking grin. "War-Prince Ossanlin, it has been a pleasure, but I believe I am going to take this opportunity to speak with some other occupants of this fine establishment." Pushing his chair back he shoots a slightly warmer smile in Jocun's direction. He is, at least, my own kind. Even if he is a bit odd.
Standing, Zorish scans the bar for a more amiable companion. Many of the bar patrons seem to have filtered out while he was engaged with the Andalite. One of the tables that he had noted for its sheer number of occupants seems to have whittled itself down to just two, neither of which appear to be nearly as rigid or suspicious as the War-Prince and his quiet, stiff companion.
Face settling into an expression of cheerfulness, he approaches these two, brushing his long, blonde hair over a shoulder and planting a hand on the curve of Tamora's waistline, which is only faintly notable through her Imperial issued uniform.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he says, making Tamora's voice as non-threatening as possible. "I seem to have vexed my previous table mates and was wondering if I could join you."
-
Al barked out a laugh, but stopped when he realized Sapptus was serious. "Secret Yeerk Pool entrances? What, you mean they hide the pool itself? That's insanity."
He nodded at Jasper's explanation of their plans- or lack thereof. "The Yeerks have Earth pretty well covered, from the sound of things," he said. "Could you even go back there? Cause if not, it's rough being alone and one-of-a-kind in the universe. Well, two," he said with a smirk and a pointed look at Jasper's forehead. "Where to go from here's kinda the trick for you guys, right? You probably shouldn't think about leaving until you've got a plan. Not leaving long-term, anyway." He looked around the bar with melodramatic suspicion. "I'd definitely condone the occasional breather."
With a shrug, he took the nearly-empty ice cream container from Jasper, dug in his spoon, pulled out the last bite, tossed the spoon into the air, twirling, caught it behind his back, flicked the spoon so that the ice cream flew upwards, tilted his head back, and caught it in his mouth. He grinned at Jasper, "You know you're sharing with a robot, right? Sense of taste doesn't tend to be our strong point."
When Zorish approached, Al turned and smiled, "No interruption, we're just kind of talking. You're welcome to join us, of course. Sadly, I just finished off our ice cream... If you want some I can make Mr. Cheerful over there," he nodded towards the bartender, "give us some more. My name's Al," he said, sticking out his hand.
The remaining Malleon made their way up the wire and into the 'jar.' Only a small portion of them were left behind, and those elected to go into a dormant state, so as to use less of the Skimmer's energy. They would awaken later if they felt the need for whatever reason- as long as they remained connected to the collective of Malleon aboard Salem's ship, their awakening would be determined by the collective at large, at which point they could begin creating an entirely new colony aboard the Skimmer.
Now that the majority of them had withdrawn, the collective aboard Salem's ship sent a communication to Salem's communicator. The container itself was nearly full of what looked like a green-gray slime.
Salem grinned at Efaen, "That's just some friends of mine. Nothing to worry about. That was really just for Corliss." He nodded at her, "I'm technically a Prince. It's an honorary position, of course, so nobody ever really takes it seriously, myself included. But what it does do is give me a little more sway with the Electorate, especially with as closely as I often have to work with them. Had to work with them," he amended with a slight frown. "I did manage to get another couple of female arisths recruited, so at least I feel like I'm accomplishing something. With the way this war's going, though, it's probably all too little, too late."
His communicator trilled. He pulled it from his pocket and, switching to the Atazin galactic language, said "Thanks, guys." He then turned and called up the ramp with a smirk, "Hey, Illim, tell Corliss that he can bring my friends back to me now. Gently."
-
Jocun watched Zorish leave, and scooted closer to Ossanlin. "So you said you came here by ship. Are you stationed here officially, or just taking a break from your other duties?" He noticed the Andalite hadn't taken his invite to talk about himself or his people, but Jocun was genuinely curious about him.
-
Ossanlin glances at the odd Imperial with a bit of trepidation. He was obviously either from a future timeline, or a vastly different 'verse altogether. His tail shivers a bit at the thought of the Homeworld under the control of the Empire. <Stationed here? Not by the Electorate if that's what you mean. I try to come here to relax, it's a poor choice for that purpose. Though my purpose here may be a little further beyond my control than it would seem.>
-
"So this is an exciting place from time to time, eh? I suppose it would be, given what may come through here. Obviously you don't care much for my kind. I had heard that the old Council was very aggressive and expansionistic. The new Council I'm used to isn't so war hungry. They're more worried about making sure everything they have is secure in case the Kelbrid or Atheons decide to expand. However, I have always been interested in histories of the notable species."
-
<<I don't... get it... I don't think he knows much about Yeerks, at least not in the way that we know them....>> Jasper said.
<<One would think that the secrecy of the Yeerk Pool locations on Earth would be of an understood value, even to a non-native such as himself.>>
<<Wow... that was maybe one of the weirdest sentences you've ever said, Professor Quaker.>>
<<Quaker? I'm not sure I - oh.>> Sapttus said, looking to see what Jasper meant. His host laughed hysterically, and he chuckled visibly just a little. <<If I could, I would smack you right now.>> This only served to make Jasper laugh a bit more. "Pardon me," Sapttus said to Al. "I'm not laughing at you; Jasper is simply being a moron at the moment."
<<Hey!>>
It was somewhat depressing to be told that taste didn't mean as much to him, since it *was* such good ice cream, but it was more of a matter of principle, really. He just.. didn't like having the last of something.
"Oh no, no," Jasper said to the newcomer. "We were just... uh..."
<<What do I say? What do I say?!>>
<<Shut up and chill, dude. Say something intelligent.>>
<<Gee, thanks for the help...>>
"...just talking about ice cream. They've got some pretty good stuff here. What uh, what was that kind called, Al? The stuff we just had?"
-
"You still don't feel it." One of us is broken. At least one of us. What if I'm like that poor man bleeding on the floor, reduced to physical screaming? Would I even be able to tell? What did they do to us?
With Van's arm on her own they were practically embracing--close enough that the small space between them became a living thing, taking the gentle rise and fall of their chests and locking them together in mutual awareness. "The same worries and fears, but you can't feel me. But you could feel the wounded man. I couldn't." And you felt.... the piano? Ewa frowned in confusion. That's not right, an inanimate object. She twined her fingers through his hair as she thought.
Could someone introduce that sort of anomaly? Why? And she still hadn't responded to his invitation to "explore his quarters". Even if she didn't understand what was going on, they were both clearly in a very bad situation. Maybe the best thing to do would be to take what advantages and pleasures she could. If someone had kidnapped her, damaged her, and put her in this scape against her will, it would only be a matter of time before she was also bleeding to death on the ground. Physically screaming.
"Give me a moment." With a momentary leaning, Ewa closed the space between them and brushed her lips against Van's, then moved back and stood, her fingers trailing out of his hair. It's so much harder to know what to do with no character for reference. What would I do in this situation?
She began pacing around the room, hoping for something decisive to occur to her. What would I do if I were trapped in an imaginary world governed by a psychotic murderer and happened to also have the opportunity to spend the afternoon in the bedroom of a very pretty man? Jeeze, why am I being such an idiot about this? Does this really need thinking about? As she passed the doors to the extra rooms, Ewa opened her mouth to say something of the sort to Van, but paused in confusion. Was that...? She took a step back and looked into the room. Rathien? Van wouldn't have invited him on board.
She just stared at him for the moment, at a complete loss for words.
-
Van paused. Though her discomfort had grown obvious, it had nothing to do with him! Yet, he didn't feel like celebrating at all, mentally or physically. She was clearly uncomfortable, and deeply so. The Pirate couldn't imagine that there was anything at all wrong with the girl, but she seemed to think otherwise.
"But you can't feel me?" So, she must have something similar to eyomi? How strange that she can't feel it, perhaps it is limited in some way? Limited to her race alone? But that would mean nobody else of her kind was here. Like me. Alone. Except, at least I don't feel so...
"Wait," Van began, but she instead requested a moment's pause, and lightly kissed him before leaving his side to stretch. Van shook his head, the passion fading quickly. Perhaps, the problem has nothing to do with whether I "deserve" her or not. Ewa... You're all alone. And you don't have any look-a-likes or Rathiens to deal with. I have some grounding, but you're... you're cut off. Creepy. If I didn't have the eyomi...
Van shuddered harshly at the thought. It frightened him. It would be just like being Human, purely Human. And while that was no problem, the thought was still highly disturbing. If she normally feels these things, and was expecting to feel something in return... This isn't good. Van straightened up, and tried to reach her, but she already left for the hall.
To nobody in particular, he called out, "... Ewa-ku?"
-
~Rathien~
Rathien continues turning the vial over in his hands even as he sees a scantily-clad Ewa walk by. A smile begins to creep across his face as she walks back in front of the door, only a few feet away from him. She has an over-powering scent...a scent he remembers all too well. A strange feeling of nostalgia and...was it regret...?...washes over Rathien. Poor poor Viran. Though he had been deserving of his fate, it had been one of the toughest kills in Rathien's life. Certainly it couldn't be regret though...
He looks up from the vial in his hand and stares into Ewa's large, inviting eyes. Despite being clothed in nothing more than a robe, it is her eyes that draw his attention. The 'windows to the soul' they said. Ewa was giving off other scents of course...fear was one of them, and confusion. He was used to smelling fear from those he ran across, but hers smelled as if it had been there before she'd seen him. How odd. He smiles and runs a tongue over his fang again, using his free hand to sweep back a few strands of hair that had fallen in front of his face when he'd bent over to pick up the vial. He remains silent, simply grinning at the woman.
-
Ewa heard Van calling her from the other room, while Rathien grinned at her silently. He held a vial of green liquid, some of which had spilled on the floor, it seemed. Maybe I'm just mad. That wouldn't be such a terrible thing.
"Van?" she called out questioningly, unsure what exactly to say. A very dangerous and entrancing man is trying to steal your cargo? Sabotage your ship? I think I might be seeing things? So many things wrong with all of us...
"Are you broken too, then?" she asked Rathien, half expecting him to either disappear or kill her.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien examines the vial once again as an excuse to break that enchanting eye-contact and to give him a moment to think. Had he mentioned what his people thought of him? He didn't think he had...how much did she know? He'd never seen her before today, he was certain.
He looks back up. "Broken...what an interesting choice of words...I suppose my people would say I am, yes. I don't feel that there is anything wrong with me, in fact I think they are the ones that are broken." He pauses, his smile toning down. "Forgive me for intruding, I'm afraid my curiosity got the better of me."
-
"Different like I used to be?" Something about Ewa's question had resonated with Rathien. "Was it you? Did you change us and bring us here?" Even as she asked she felt the answer was no. Whoever did this would have killed me or taunted me... maybe if I last long enough I'll end up like Rathien one day--merciless and sensually decadent.
-
~Rathien~
"Different like you?" Rathien raises a questioning eyebrow. "Unless your species consider you a genetic throwback then we are different from our peoples in differing ways." He looks down, smiling ruefully. "Trust me, if I could magically bring a beautiful creature like you somewhere on a whim, it wouldn't be here." Rathien gestures expansively around the room of the ship, but intends to indicate the entire bar planetoid, the vial catching the light in different ways as it moves with his gesticulation. "And I certainly wouldn't deliver you into the arms of a lascivious pirate, though I might bring him along for a ride." He smirks a bit at his not-so-veiled pun.
-
"Zorish Three-Five-Eight," Zorish says, accepting the handshake with a gracious nod. "And that's perfectly fine, ice cream and scotch tend not to mix well, and I do believe I would like to have myself another beverage." He waves the bartender over, shaking his empty glass so that the ice rattles. A few seconds later a fresh scotch and water is placed in front of him and the bartender gives him a baleful look.
"Just start a tab," he says with a small smile. "I'll pay upon my departure, no worries." The bartender does not look worried in the least; his expression doesn't flicker in the slightest as he moves back to the bar. Zorish shakes his head. "Cheerful fellow, that one," he comments, turning back to Al and his as of yet unnamed companion.
"I'm sorry, I didn't seem to catch your name," Zorish says, eying Jasper/Sapptus with interest and taking a small sip of his drink.
<<A human Prince?>> Efaen seems disgusted by the idea, an expression she does not try to hide. Deciding not to dwell on the topic, though, she turns to his later words. <<This war will be won by the mighty Andalite force,>> she regurgitates proudly. <<We will strike the deciding blow against the Yeerks and purge their evil from this galaxy.>>
-
CATIE|
A small flash of light appeared in the sky as the Urtahn entered pulsce speed. It was accompanied by a barely audible clapping noise. Ogreon partially hoped Van had seen and heard his departure.
Two red glows appeared in the bar. But instead of Clangst and Human, there were two humans. A male and a female. The glows faded to reveal Larry and Catie.
"Now...where's this Van Ogreon told us about?", Catie said as soon as they materialized.
-
Larry looked around and slightly recognized the establishment. It resembled Atma's place in Lut Gholein, a bar. There were many different creatures her, but he noticed in his observation that a few were missing. In fact the Human female and the male Elf who had helped him when he came crashing through the door were gone, perhaps left all together.
At the thought of him crashing through the door, he looked over at it and began walking towards it. He knelt down and looked at the dried blood that was still there. My blood he thought to himself. Larry looked at himself and noticed he was an absolute mess. His vest was slashed so bad that it was barely hanging on him and it was covered in dried blood. His pants and boots and even his hair was caked in dried blood and Larry realised how close to death he had been.
He looked back towards Catie and motioned for her to follow him outside. Ogreon had asked him to protect Catie and in order to do that he needed to return to Hell.
-
Ewa found Rathien's demeanor and consistency oddly comforting. If he really is broken, he doesn't even realize it. There's no fear in him. She leaned her arm up against the door frame and rested her head against it, letting out a slow breath. I'm losing my distance from this situation.
She managed half a smile for Rathien's flirtation and her eyes were drawn again to the green vial in his hand. "What is that? It seems you're here to take things that don't belong to you." Ewa realized that this was maybe not the most appropriate time for flirting, but it felt easy and natural. And so much unlike something that would happen in a psychotic's private scape.
"Van?" she called out again. What is keeping him?
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin glances at the Imperial and tries to bide his thoughts...but the road could go both ways. If he was careful...
<This place can be...exciting...I suppose that's a good word.> Ossanlin pauses a moment before continuing. <Well, if you're so interested in your history, perhaps you'd like to enlighten me upon the details of your Empire's conquest. For example, I see the invasion of my homeworld and consequent subjugation, enslavement, and utter destruction of my entire species as inconceivable. Nearly any Andalite would sooner die.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________
~Rathien~
Rathien looks up and smiles a bit before looking down at the vial in his hand, rotating it slowly. "This is known as Vivalite amongst Beryllians. This particular shipment appears to be illegally concentrated." He looks up at Ewa again. "I wasn't looking to take anything when I boarded this ship...I was...curious about what might be happening." He smirks just a bit. "If neither of you had noticed me I might've taken a few mostly-undamaged crates...when it comes to money I'm an opportunist, but now that you've found me...well I'll have to come up with something else to do."
-
<<I had assumed "something intelligent" might include your name, by the way...>>
<<Shaddup.>>
"I'm so sorry, how rude of me..." Jasper began, standing up from his chair and holding out his hand as well. "I'm Jasper, and..." He somewhat stalls for a moment, similarly to a video-streaming buffering.
<<That's a Yeerk title. There's a Yeerk. Sitting right in front of us.>> Sapttus said, slightly nervous.
<<Chill, it's gonna be okay. Let me handle it okay? I'll just ->>
<<You don't get it... what if he's here to find us?>>
<<Look, we aren't that special, man. Just don't go chugging any oatmeal while this guy is here, and we'll be fine.>>
"... it's nice to meet you, ma'am." He says, with a delayed smile. They normally didn't have this much trouble blending in, but... they normally didn't have such interesting scenario's to confront, either.
Their eye twitched randomly; it was just one of the little tics that they'd gotten used to. They got worse the longer Sapttus went without his oaties, but it hadn't been nearly long enough to warrant any worry. Regardless... they had winked at the woman they'd just introduced himself to.
<<ACK! No! Bad timing!>> Jasper wailed. He responded by blinking again, repeatedly, as if something was irritating his eye. He then rubbed it with the ball of his bottom of his palm. Hopefully, Zorish didn't think anything of the incidental wink.... Sapttus simply chuckled at Jasper's minor panic.
-
CATIE|
Catie's eyebrows shot up and a small smile came to life, "What? I just got here I'm not leaving! We have to find Van and Ewa!"
She looked around...
THETA-PI|
Theta put his hands on his head. He was having another melt-down,. There were two things he could do - go back to the Alvie. Or go back to Jaegis IV. Considering he really hadn't tried this individuality all the way through, he decided to visit the place where his life had been taken from him. The place where Pizali had been killed. His home.
But he had to go now. As claxter came closer, the pod lifted up effortlessly...then shot off into space. But a small display device appeared in front of claxter,. It gave him his destination; solar system, planet, and scoop. If claxter ever decided to see Theta, he would know where to go. And he could give those coordinates to Vetaq.
-
"Many did die. Oh so many died. It was the biggest, bloodiest series of battles in the entire war. Soldiers were massacred on both sides. It wasn't just fighting, though. You'll understand if I don't go into too muh detail, since apparently you live in some sort of past to mine. The Yeerks had some new things to use, some of which the andalites didn't even know until it was too late. Not all died valiantly, or committed suicide. Those that lived were infested and bred to make new hosts and keep the species alive."
"It was a new beginning. The Council celebrated at first, but afterwards found out they couldn't control the people through fear and propaganda anymore. Most Yeerks were afraid that if they didn't do everything the Council said, the Andalites would destroy like they tried to do to the Hork-Bajir and and others. After they fell, there was no enemy powerful enough to oppose the Empire. There was enough concern that they decided to hunker down and fortify for a while, and with some Vissers relutant to start another war, and the pro-voluntary host movement getting in ful swing, the Empire started changing from expansionistic behaviour to a more peaceful way of life."
"Some civil war has happened. The rebels who opposed the Empire and continue to push the pro-voluntary movement reamain controversial. It's not perfect, but things are going faster now that people are being born and raised in an environment where they aren't already at war."
-
"Jasper," Zorish repeats, noting the fact that his presence clearly makes this man nervous. Perhaps that means he will speak more freely, Zorish muses.
Catching the slight wink Zorish's eyebrows shoot up, and he laughs lightly, tossing Tamora's hair over his shoulder. "I assure you that while my host body may be fairly attractive by human standards," he says, gripping his drink with two hands, "she is not currently, ah, available, as it were." His smirk holds a clear double meaning as he sips his drink.
<<Be nice, Zorish,>> Tamora cautions.
<<You think he is attractive,>> Zorish accuses. Tamora says nothing in response, her embarrassment easy to read. <<Dear Tamora,>> Zorish goes on with a mental laugh that is not entirely kind. <<your human instincts never cease to fascinate me.>>
-
Al laughed- he was starting to get a feel, he thought, for Jasper and Sapptus's internal struggle, and when was speaking instead of the other. It wasn't the kind of thing most people would notice, but then, Al'd gotten very good at observing people over the years. Their slight awkwardness that seemed to come, at least in part, from their shared control, was very endearing in a way.
When Jasper asked about the ice cream, Al held up the now-empty pint-sized container and stared at the words printed on it. After a few moments, he was able to piece together what they said- he wasn't used to reading English. "Phish Food, apparently. Not bad stuff. This was the first time I've had it." He grinned and looked between the two Yeerks, "Apparently this is a great place for sampling cuisine."
"So," he turned to Zorish and chirped brightly, "what brings you to our little neck of the woods, Zorish Three-Five-Eight?"
Salem laughed slightly at Efaen's obvious disgust for his title. It was a reaction he was used to. He actually felt a slight pang of loss- she reminded him so much of home.
Not home, he reminded himself. They're Andalites. It was never 'home.'
He nodded in response to Efaen's confidence in the Andalites' ability to win the war. "I hope you're right, Warrior, I really do. I've been out on the battlefields, though. I've seen what's happening. I think the situation might be more desperate than our... your leaders let on." He smiled at her sadly, "The Yeerks are conniving, resourceful and adaptive. It's going to take more than simply patriotic confidence and bravery to defeat an enemy like that."
-
Catie was reluctant about leaving until they found Van and Ewa. While he understood the need to relay Ogreon's message, he felt vulnerable without his armor and weaponry. Larry walked over to Catie and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Catie, Ogreon asked me to keep you safe, but I cannot do that without my armor and weaponry. It will not take us long I promise and then we will return to search for Van and Ewa."
-
"Rebellion," Serid echoes Jocun with interest, speaking up for the first time in several moments. He shifts stiffly on his chair and scoots it closer to the table. "I understand your reluctance to reveal too much to us," he says to Jocun, "but I am interested in hearing about such a movement. If you would indulge me."
Illim winces at the thought-speak cries of the Malleon, and he withdraws inside the ship so Salem and Efaen cannot see him clap his hands over his ears in vain. In response to their pained departure and his own irritation, he lets out several disgusted curses.
<<You think something went wrong?>> Illim mutters to Derrel once the screaming stops. <<Maybe...>> he says, moving back to the hatch and returning to his post at the top of the ramp where he can watch the the unlikely pair converse. <<But he looks... undisturbed by the whole thing.>>
At Salem's sardonic smile, Illim spits. <<See? Either he's heartless or he's a manipulative little bastard. Either way, I don't like him.>> To Salem he says, expression deadpan, "Sure. Happy to be your messenger boy."
With that, he turns around and walks fully into the Skimmer and approaches Terenia and Mike. "You know... if he really cares about these Malleon so much..." He hitches a shoulder. "Seems we're in a good bartering position if we need anything. Or if we don't trust him. Which is something I really endorse, by the way."
-
" Wait! No! I wasn't.. .I didn't... I just had something in my eye! I swear, I wasn't flirting or anything, I wouldn't do that to you... I just met - not that I'm saying you're unattractive or anything, but I, I'm not... not interested..." Jasper said in a slight panic of embarrassment.
<<Oh sweet biscuits...>> He said, his ears turning red. <<Please help me....>> Sapttus took the reigns from there. In a much calmer, controlled manner, he spoke:
"I can't say I came here to pick up a date, miss. And in all honesty, it simply was -" He feigned a look of sudden realization, as if he'd just processed what she'd said. " - I'm sorry, your host? By chance, are you one of these Yeerks that I've heard about? I have yet to meet one here on my trip, or so I believe to be the case. I'd imagine with your kind, one might not always be aware of whether or not they were face to face with a Yeerk."
Jasper, still groaning over his little blunder there, was only partially paying attention now. Although, he did catch one part of conversation for sure:
<<Phish food? oh... gross...>>
-
Jocun half expected the Andalites to disbelieve a Yeerk would care about a host being voluntary beyond being more convenient for the Yeerk. "Well, the two most notable ones were the Peace Movement started on Earth by a pacifistic Yeerk group, and a secretive group that worked against the Empire. The one on Earth wasn't very proactive, and most didn't even have hosts. The second was led by someone called Reven at one point. They were secretive to the point of paranoia, but thta is what kept them going. not to say they never suffered losses, but they had their wins too."
I believe both are still around, and their methods haven't changed much. There are those who refuse involuntary hosts, and their pacifism keeps much of the persecution away. Those that disagree with them usually don't do much more than mock or ridicule them. The pro-voluntary movement is a more proactive group that gets out there and into people's faces, so reactions against them can be equally dramatic. Especially in areas where Vissers still treat hosts as property."
"Personally I find it best for PR to not take a definite side. I don't throw in with either group, and that has its own benefits and drawbacks. Of course there are the extremists, but extremism in general is detremental to any society.
<<I don't think I trust the guy too much either. Even if he does offer free drinks.>> Derrel said.
Claxter saw what Theta sent, after the surprise of seeing the pod shoot across the sky on his scanner. Of course he couldn't just take off after the guy, though he should tall his Prince. He left the ship and made his way back to the bar.
-
CATIE|
Catie stared at him funny, "Psh...I got you covered!"
Catie pulled out a standard, elegant phase'r and showed it to him in both hands. She pressed a button and a small holographic terminal appeared over the phaser. It had two vertical bars in it. She set the first one to 2 and the second one to 3.
"This could take out an elephant - it's on stun. If you fire it at a human they'll be out a good...half hour or so."
She pointed to the trigger as if to make the point stronger. The trigger was a button on the top in clear reach of the thumb.
"And my shirt has small portions of scutite in it, which will cause some physical weapons to bounce off. I'm good - go get your armor if you'd like."
She smiled mischievously, "I won't get into any trouble."
VOGEFAC|
The outside of the Bar, right in front of the door was still. Completely still.
Then...the air fluctuated. For a second...
Then...POP!
A tall, yellow, reptilian creature with horns, long, long claws, and back spines suddenly came into existence. He was unconscious, but groaned a little. Then he was still again.
-
Catie pulled out a strange object and from the way she talked about it the object was a weapon. She also said that her shirt had something called 'scutite' in it which from what she described was armor. When she said that she wouldn't get into trouble Larry actually smiled a little. "I will believe that when I see proof of your safety after I return."
Larry went to walk out the door, not even glancing down at his dried blood on the floor, however something abruptly appeared the moment he opened the door. Larry looked down at it and immediately recognized the creature. A poisonous river beast flashed through his mind. Larry jumped back inside and looked around for a weapon, but finding none he grabbed the nearest chair and threw it at the beast.
Unfortunately he forgot the fact that he was a terrible throw.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin makes a face at Jocun's "preservation of the species" bit. <So you mean there were cowards who were too pathetic to destroy themselves and so instead handed over all of our secrets, technology, and our freedom in exchange for an existence worse than death? And not only that, they condemned their children to a life of slavery and servitude? It's so wonderful to know that such cowards exist amongst my race. I do so hope that if you're telling the truth about your reality that the rebels come up with an Andalite-oriented quantum virus.> Ossanlin takes another drink of his mint-water. <Though I suppose you've already adapted our technology. Still I would rather see my Homeworld as a barren wasteland devoid of life than as a festering pool of sludge for maniacal, greedy Imperial overlords...no offense.> He pauses, taking a few deep breaths, trying to allow his ardor to cool. The Homeworld utterly infested?! It was ludicrous and the thought fills him with an indignation more powerful than he's felt in quite some time.
-
CATIE|
Catie laughed and turned to the bartender. She wondered if he had anything from her universe.
Just then she heard a crash. She turned around and saw Larry, a reptilian creature on the ground..and a chair smashed a few feet away from it.
"Hey...that's a Reptilinod! There were no Reptilinod on our ship!"
She ran over to Larry, "Did you throw that...how did you hit it if the chair is over there?"
Right now Catie was just more bewildered than scared or upset at Larry for throwing a chair at something randomly.
VOGEFAC|
Faintly, Vogefac heard wood crash near him. His eyes opened momentarily, then they closed again...
-
"I believe you misunderstand me. It wasn't cowardice that caused some Andalites to not be killed. They were captured, and prevented from killing themselves. I don't think there has ever been a report of more than a sparce few Andalite who actually sided with the Yeerks before the war was over."
"I'm sorry if this news disturbs you. I'm sure it would disturb my own people if things went the other way. Andalites have always been a proud people."
-
Terenia nods, wincing as she removes the line from inside the Skimmer's power source and stands. "Maybe," she mumbles, Mike's face still ashen from the telepathic onslaught. "But does he have anything we want?" She inspects the small container, not nearly as clear as it had been moments before. "I don't trust a god damned thing he says, and anything he gives us I trust even less."
Efaen remains expressionless, but caution enters her tone. <<You think that my people are over-estimating their reach? Our might is strong, and our power great. There are perhaps a few among our ranks who do not truly deserve their titles, but those are all weeded out eventually. Do not think me a fool, human. I am aware that our government, like all great governments, contain flaws. We are also incredibly effective at detecting these flaws and eliminating them.>>
Zorish makes a point of allowing his laughter to sound particularly girlish, putting his hand to his mouth to cover the sound, as though in embarrassment. In truth, he is noting the man's flush and initial tongue-tied manner with interest. Flustered men often say the most interesting things, he notes.
"Yes, my host," he lowers Tamora's hand and flashes Jasper a smile. "I am a Yeerk, of course. I thought my uniform was a dead giveaway." She indicates her Imperial issued one-piece with a lazy gesture before turning to answer Al's question.
"Oddly enough, I came here seeking my own murderer," Zorish muses, the smile never leaving his face, even when he brings his glass up to sip from it. "It seems that I was killed. It also seems that the killer did a poor job of the deed, as I am clearly still here." He laughs at his own jest before continuing. "Regardless, it seems as though the trail has somewhat dried up for the time being. I located those I was searching for and am afraid to say it was less enlightening than I had hoped." He shrugs. "Instead I have decided to spend my time getting to know the sort that would flock to this, er, fine establishment." He lifts his glass to the bar at large, as though offering a toast.
-
Ewa continued to breath slowly and began to feel almost grounded again, if tenuously. Thievery and peeping and flirting, she thought with a tinge of amusement. It's positively lighthearted. Still, she was worried that Van hadn't followed her yet. What if something happened to him? What if whoever this is just waits for a quiet, unsuspecting moment and tears you apart? Her stomach knotted, but she managed to mostly push the dark thoughts down and away. This was a silly situation. Silly. And it suddenly seemed like a good idea to keep someone as dangerous as Rathien nearby. Silly.
"Something else to do?" she asked archly, looking down at him still crouching on the floor. Ewa glided into the room and sat down next to him, crossing her legs. She was careful not to get between him and the door, but not to corner herself either, or sit too close.
"Let me see that," she requested, holding out her hand for the vial of Vivalite. "I bet I can do something with it you can't," she challenged with an open smirk.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien watches as Ewa moves to sit on the floor in front of him. How had he gotten himself in this type of situation? He had never gone to such great lengths to garner the attention of someone before. Well, that wasn't necessarily true but mostly it was. Nothing but a robe...
He smiles at Ewa and then glances down at the vial again, flipping it a few more times before reaching out his hand, proferring the Vivalite to her, a bemused expression crossing his face as e looks up at her again.
-
Larry was embarrassed that he missed, but felt that it would be dishonorable to lie. He shrugged "I missed, he was already down anyway. He looks like the River Beasts of Kurast. Be careful they can spit poison goo"
-
When Ewa left for the hall, the room cleared up, as the sensation of her alluring presence lifted away. Van furrowed his brow, not sure whether he should follow her, but perhaps she needed time alone.
Alone, Van thought, Had she been another Beryllian, maybe her feeling of 'brokenness' wouldn't have been so bad? Or if she was Human, it would just be confusion... But loneliness? Broken? Terror, I suppose. She's just trying to relax, probably more afraid than I am. I guess the only thing I'm afraid of is that Hunter, and even then, he isn't quite a Lord, either.
"Mm, it's not bad when he isn't around," Van said to himself with a grin.
But, with Ewa removed from the room, another feeling took her place. Van picked up on it suddenly, and frowned. He recognized it. Just one look at the guy, and his 'scent' registered in his mind. And now, he was here.
The Pirate stood up to get a better feel of it, and then widened his eyes in alarm: He's in the hall, isn't he?! The Vivalite- no, Ewa!
Van grabbed his gun, and quietly stalked his way into the hallway, knowing that causing a ruckus could give Rathien the upper hand. The world seemed to slow to a halt when he finally spotted Rathien. He was, luckily, concentrating on Ewa, and perhaps nothing more. How advantageous.
The Pirate raised his gun, powered the heat bayonet, then stuck the tip of it close to Rathien's head. The heat alone would be noticeable enough to tell Rathien he was in a rather undesirable situation.
"So, Mirwindzhensa-ge," Van said measuredly, "I didn't think you would be so bold. A thief of two kinds, and a Hunter! What a nice surprise."
The gun made an audible beep, indicating it was loaded. Van figured a shot was superflous, but reassurance of a threat was always a good way to get a target to think twice about making a move. Besides, with Ewa right there, and Rathien so close, a shot easily could pass through him, and hit her, too...
It wasn't so much a bluff, but more a show of exactly whose ship they were on.
-
Al laughed softly at Jasper's rambling. "You're a bit of a whiz with the ladies, you know that?" he said with a wink. Though his words were mocking, his tone was kind. He turned to Zorish, "'Flock to' is such a heavy term. I don't think most of us are actually here by choice. This place is odd like that." He grinned and looked her up and down, "It sounds like you're already noticing how odd it is, though. You're not looking half bad for a dead chick."
At the sound of yelling and someone throwing a chair out the door, Al turned and looked, then rolled his eyes and turned back to Zorish and Jasper. "What the heck is going on over there?"
Salem caught the look on Illim's face- it was obviously not a friendly one- and lost a bit of his willingness to laugh. He'd hoped, at least, that Illim might start to be reasonable.
The guy is hanging around Corliss, he reminded himself.
With a small sigh, he turned back to Efaen, "Don't get me wrong, Warrior, your race has plenty to be proud of. You're one of the most amazing species I've ever encountered. But the Yeerks have managed to rise from minor annoyance to galactic plague right under your noses, and I just can't see the Andalite war machine turning the tide now that the Yeerks have an established empire, if it wasn't able to before, when they were weak. Not without some major changes." He sighed. He was getting a sense of deja vu from this conversation. He'd had it with other Andalites a dozen times before, most often with very little success.
"Andalites certainly deserve respect, but then, so do the Yeerks. Like them or hate them, Efaen, you can't deny their accomplishments. Without respect for their abilities, they will never be overcome."
-
CATIE ANDERSON|
She raised an amused eyebrow, "Actually, I know his species. He's a Reptilinod. And don't worry, they're not poisonous. They're warriors, but they're not poisonous."
She knelt down next to him, "He's out. He's almost awake, but...not really. What I wouldn't give for some expergicene...I wonder how he could've gotten here. Did you see him beam in? Or fall?"
VOGEFAC|
Vogefac heard two people talking. Human he could tell.
He tried to speak but he couldn't move his mouth. Instead he opened his eyes a centimeter and looked up at them. The girl was looking at the man, so Vogefac looked at him too. He tried to convey the emotion of confusion in his eyes, but the fact was Reptilinod aren't very emotional. So he just stared at the man through barely-open eyes.
-
When Catie said she recognized the creature and called it a 'Reptilinoid' Larry realized he made a mistake. "I did not see him appear. When I opened the door he was lying there."
Larry noticed the Reptilinoid staring at him and he began to feel uncomfortable. Catie seemed to want to help this creature, but he still felt vulnerable. Larry leaned down to whisper in Catie's ear "Are you sure you will be all right without my protection?" he asked with urgency in his voice, attempting to subtly remind Catie of why he was leaving the bar in the first place.
-
CATIE|
"I'll be fine, Larry. I told you, my weapon could take down an elephant at the setting it's on now. Don't stress."
She looked and saw that the Reptilinod was looking at Larry. She turned back with a smile, "On the other hand, maybe I could come to protect you?"
Still smiling, she turned back to the Reptilinod, whose gaze had shifted to her.
"Hello, my name is Catie. I'm from the Alliance starship Urtahn. Can I help you?"
VOGEFAC|
Vogefac noticed that the man seemed unsettled. Vogefac's newfound omnipotent powers were fading slowly. He could hear the mind of this, Larry as it sought to understand just what Vogefac was and ascertain how dangerous he might be.
Then the girl looked at him. After making one last remark to the man, she turned back. Vogefac looked at her. Alliance? Oh great...
"I am...Vogefac. Commodore Vogefac of the Reptilinod...Imperi al...," he coughed with the effort of speech, "...Imperial Mother-Ship Zetylon. No, I do not need your help."
Vogefac decided to use his Ke-powers before they completely left him. His eyes glowed. Bright yellow. Then the glow spread to the rest of his head, covering his horns...his neck...his shoulders and back spines...his lower back and arms...his legs...his feet. A large noise like gale-force winds emitted from him. Then...it all faded away.
Vogefac pushed himself up like nothing had ever happened - even his injuries and unconsciousness.
"As I said, I am not in need of assistance. I...I was blessed with the power of the Ke. But now it is gone. At least I was able to heal myself..."
He looked around, "Have you seen a Cheetah around anywhere?"
-
Larry smiled slightly at her joke of protecting him "I think I can handle myself, I am the Slayer of Diablo you know?" He began to walk away and took no notice of what was happening behind him with the strange Reptilinoid and was completely oblivious of the creature healing itself.
As he was walking he looked down at his vest and realized badly slashed it was. Perhaps I'll grab that black leather vest I saw he thought to himself as he took off the vest and threw it to the ground.
He walked up to the portal, which from the view of the bar would look like a hole of blue light. Larry took a deep breath and walked through the portal, to a place that would haunt his nightmares, forever.
-
"Yes, my host," he lowers Tamora's hand and flashes Jasper a smile. "I am a Yeerk, of course. I thought my uniform was a dead giveaway." She indicates her Imperial issued one-piece with a lazy gesture before turning to answer Al's question.
<<Well, of course I knew that...>>
<<Yeah, but, she doesn't know you know that, y'know? You'd... kinda have to tell her for her to know... that you know...yeah, something like that.>> Jasper rambled.
<<Just like she said, her uniform tells me more than I need to know. You were correct; we aren't of such significance that the Empire would waste any time or personnel to locate us, but there is a chance that Zorish here wouldn't hesitate to take us back if we present ourselves as easy bounty.>>
<<So... just... keep quiet about you still? Okay... we certainly have plenty of practice there.>>
In response, however, the two simply nodded in acknowledgement.
"Oddly enough, I came here seeking my own murderer," Zorish muses, the smile never leaving his face, even when he brings his glass up to sip from it. "It seems that I was killed. It also seems that the killer did a poor job of the deed, as I am clearly still here." He laughs at his own jest before continuing. "Regardless, it seems as though the trail has somewhat dried up for the time being. I located those I was searching for and am afraid to say it was less enlightening than I had hoped." He shrugs. "Instead I have decided to spend my time getting to know the sort that would flock to this, er, fine establishment." He lifts his glass to the bar at large, as though offering a toast.
"Sounds like me.. minus the whole 'seeking your own murderer' part. I've kinda settled here for the time being. There's plenty of company... whether or not that's a good thing is up for debate, I guess. There's some pretty crazy people here." He says, gesturing to the flying furniture across the room... "I don't even want to know...."
<<Hehe, 'crazy people' indeed.>> Sapttus said.
<<You are fully aware that I lumped you in that category, too, right buddy?>> Jasper joked.
<<Of course. I don't even have to tap your thoughts for that one.>>
Al laughed softly at Jasper's rambling. "You're a bit of a whiz with the ladies, you know that?" he said with a wink. Though his words were mocking, his tone was kind.
"Yeah, right, and I'm the Easter Bunny, too..." he says sarcastically, yet still obviously embarrassed by his facial spasm. <<Curse you and your oaties!>> He just wanted to move on.
The partial carved-walnut elephant was progressing rather nicely, even if slowly. A small pile of chippings had grown on the napkin he'd laid out for ease of clean-up.
-
Ewa leaned forward to accept the Vivalite from Rathien, strangely struck by his puzzlement as he looked at her. Is he wondering why.... haha, no, he probably just can't think of a way I can live up to my boast. She wasn't so sure herself. I guess if it's not amusing enough I could always stick it in--damn it, I'm not even wearing real clothes. Scratch that.
Her fingers brushed his briefly, carefully, as she took the vial. She was just leaning back and rolling it across her fingers--getting a feel for the balance--when Van appeared in the doorway with a gun to Rathien's head. Ewa let out half a sigh of relief, Thank god he's okay, before she froze. Her eyes jumped back and forth between Van and Rathien, waiting for something terrible to happen.
-
For whatever use to him Jocun's information about the rebellion is worth, considering he's from another timeline, Serid is glad to hear that the rebellion has survived the war in Jocun's reality.
Whatever positive emotions he has, though, are overshadowed by his revulsion of hearing them speak of the Andalite homeworld. He had been fortunate enough to find a Yeerk who had sympathized with him, but he had gone through so many Yeerks before Illim, it was proof that he was just a glitch.
He sneers at Jocun. Of course he can afford to be apologetic; he is a secure victor.
Illim shrugs again. "Not a device or weapon, necessarily. I just mean... whatever we want." He starts to pace in agitation. "To get grass for Tora, to get information, to be left the hell alone--whatever."
-
Now the other one was in a bad mood too. Jocun glanced away from them, sipping his whiskey. This conversation wasn't exactly going splendidly. He was beginning to think perhaps he should just avoid the Andalites to maintain civility. He looked around the room at the other occupants, and noticed yet another Andalite enter the room.
Claxter found Prince Ossanlin at the bar with Serid, neither of them looking happy. They were looking at a Human with bright clothes, who looked like he said something embarrassing.
<<Sir, I have something to report if you have the time. It regards Theta.>>
-
CATIE|
Catie watched as Larry walked away, curious as to where he was going. Then she looked back at the Reptilinod.
"Erm...uh, cheetah? No...but I just got here."
The tall creature seemed to think deeply, "A young andalite? His name is Claxter. Have you seen him?"
VOGEFAC|
The girl shook her head slowly, "I just got here. I'm sorry."
Vogefac sighed. The bar looked just like it did when he'd left. One or two different ships, but essentially the same. But he'd been gone for years, so obviously some of the people he knew wouldn't be here. John, Bear, Claxter. Artemis...he'd probably never see her again, considering what had happened to her back in the Shadow Dimension.
He was snapped out of his musings by the girl...Catie, "But...maybe I can help you find them?"
Vogefac smiled, "Don't try to fool me. You're Alliance. You're going to ask me why I'm here and how I got here."
Catie thought, "Well, maybe how you got here since you seemed to have just popped up out of nowhere, but why? That's none of my business is it? You're obviously not part of our crew - the Urtahn had no Reptilinod officers. So, I don't need to know why you're here. I don't even want to know."
Vogefac squinted, "What are you playing at? You are Alliance, I am Reptilinod. No Alliance officer would just let me go my way...and what do you mean no Reptilinod officers? Obviously your ship has no Reptilinod officers. There are no Reptilinod in Astrofleet."
Catie stared at him for a second, "Of course there are. Once you joined the Alliance, many warri - "
"Joined the Alliance!? Terran, how much Rev'maak ale have you been drinking? The Reptilinod never joined the Alliance!"
Catie squinted at him for a few seconds...then a bit longer. He spoke again, "I have no time to argue Terran. I thank you at least for not demanding my reasons for being here. Because...I have none. Excuse me."
With that, he turned away and walked into the bar. He sat in one of the stools, ordered a Rev'maak ale, and thought of his adventures.
CATIE
The Reptilinod walked away, entering the bar and taking a seat.
"That was odd...", Catie said to no one in particular. She smiled to herself, and began examining the ships in the shipyard.
-
~Ossanlin ~
Ossanlin scoffs as he takes more of the refresing liquid up his leg. <Your timeline must differ from my own then.> Ossanlin shrugs in feigned unconcern as the Imperial looks around the room.
Ossanlin glances a stalk-eye at Claxter. <<Very well.>>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________
~Rathien~
Rathien watches as Ewa begins to get a feel for the vial, something like an assassin feeling out the heft and balance of a new throwing-knife. His ears hear footsteps in the hallway...so Van was finally coming, and trying to be stealthy about it from the sound of things.
Van rounds the corner and points his Beryllian weapon at Rathien's head. Rathien smiles and begins to chuckle, still looking at Ewa before turning his head to look at Van, barrel now pointed directly between his eyes. His mirth fades though he continues to smile as he speaks. "Ah, pirate...a bit slow on the uptake today. Normally I'd expect a pirate to be all over anyone that threatened his booty." Rathien smirks at the multiple levels of that last statement. "Yet I can't help but notice that you're still standing and fully-clothed." Rathien starts running his tongue over his fang again, smiling predatorily up at Van for a few moments before looking back at Ewa.
"So, what is it you can do with this vial that others cannot?"
-
<<He has left the planetoid. I didn't think he could because I blasted his ship, but apparently there was some part of it left that my scanners didn't pick up. He sent the coordinates that he was going to, and it's the place where he was originally taken. I a unsure what I should do, especially since Gremyyt was actually a friend of my father's. should I notify my father about this? Should we go after him?>>
"Perhaps it does." Jocun says.
-
Terenia nods at Illim, biting Mike's lip. An uneasy sensation of forboding has settled on her in the wake of the Malleon collection, and it is making it hard for her to focus.
<<Mike,>> she murmurs, her thought-speech sounding hollow. <<I think I need you to deal with this. I...I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know how to freaking bargain and...and...>> she doesn't say the remainder of her thoughts, but a few slip through to her temporary host unbidden. Images of her sister dead, the confusion and fear of seeing her alive again, and the unyielding despair that has been building in the wake of the tragedy for as long as she had refused to let herself truly grieve.
Falling into silence she slowly relinquishes control over to Mike.
Zorish watches the flying furniture with a look of bemusement, ducking at one point to avoid taking a blow to the head, but otherwise remaining indifferent.
"Crazy," Zorish repeats with a nod, "Yes, I've noticed that. Many of the patrons here seem rather...uptight."
He gives Al a small smile in response to his comment about his looks. "I try not to let the rot and decay set in," he jokes, before becoming somewhat serious again. "You say most people are not here by choice, hm? So how did the two of you come about to land here?"
Efaen sighs through her nose slits, letting her narrow shoulders fall slightly. <<The Yeerks have accomplished much in a rather short time period,>> she concedes. <<but they would not have gained anything at all were it not for the power of the Andalites. They are a race of depraved thieves. I can respect their success at this and no more.>>
-
"I'm sure we can both agree that Ewa can be alluring to the point of distraction," replied Van. He lowered his rifle, but did not disarm it. Ewa was fingering the -intact!- vial of Vivalite with a look of predatory interest.
From what the Hunter said, she claimed to be able to do something unique with the stuff. Van didn't doubt her, he already knew she was a quick-change artist, able to manipulate the color if her hair and eyes with ease. She would be an object of envy and desire for the Empire, and if Rathien found out- Van was repulsed by the idea.
Though he had an idea as to what this would entail, Van decided against stopping her little demonstration, since he was just as curious as Rathien was. Yet, he also knew he couldn't succumb to Ewa's feminine charms, now that his rival stood right beside him.
To make his point, the Pirate moved aside cautiously, the glowing bayonet still humming with energy. He held the weapon against his waist, and gripped the barrel. Though his eyes were on Ewa, the rest of his senses were on high alert, monitoring Rathien's every move. And, if a threat arose, Van was ready to rip Rathien apart if he so needed to.
-
Ewa's eyes continued going back and forth between the two men in front of her, still frozen in place. Van kept his gun aimed at Rathien, but apparently the two were set on treating this as unimportant. Okay then, normal it is. Ewa sat back more and relaxed, a teasing smile breaking through her expression. "Just so you two aren't disappointed, I didn't have anything spectacular in mind." Certainly nothing worthy ignoring an enemy at gunpoint for.
Slowly, Ewa started moving the vial between her fingers and across her palm and the back of her hand. She built up speed until it looked like the green vial was crawling over her, her hand twitching slightly. Absently, she checked the relative length of her finger nails on the opposite hand. That one's just a little shorter. She focused on the nail and lengthened it just the tiniest fraction of an inch. Then she transferred the vial to her other hand, continuing to make it crawl while she checked her other fingernails. Time for the hard part. Carefully, she balanced the vial on the tips of her thumb and forefinger nails, then she began to spin it. The move took her a couple of tries to really get going, but then she could increase the speed with tiny motions in her two fingers. Once it was up to speed, she carefully moved her thumb away, leaving the vial of Vivalite spinning and shining like some strange green flame sprouting from her finger. She passed it from one finger to another, back and forth between her hands. After a few passes, she tried jumping it, but fumbled the catch. Still, I must've been practicing my dexterity tricks recently. What was I doing that for?
With a rueful smile she palmed the vial and finally looked up at Van and Rathien again. The trick had taken her full attention. "It's more for amusing people than anything. Sorry if I misled you." She looked back at the vial. "What is Vivalite used for, anyways?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin sighs and gives Claxter his full attention. <<I do not see that any action is necessary Warrior. We took the required safety precautions with him, I do not believe he has any knowledge that would damage us if he returns to his collective. I cannot believe that the entity that controls this place would allow the Alvie to invade it. The current version of Zorish bears watching though. He cannot be allowed to obtain sensitive information.>>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Rathien~
Rathien watches Ewa's trick with rapt attention. She was very dextrous and he couldn't help but allow his mind to wander on the...delectible... possiblities. His ears continue to track Van's movements as a quick wrist-movement brings one of his throwing-knives into his right hand. He begins to walk it over his fingers much as Ewa does with her vial of Vivalite. When she begins spinning the vial on the tips of her fingers...no on her fingernails, Rathien's eyes widen a bit. He could swear that her nails had actually lengthened apparently at will.
As she finishes, he holds the knife steady, concealing it in his hand just in case he might need it to deal with the uncooperative pirate. "Very impressive. I'd love to see what you could do with a knife...amongst other things." He smiles, not bothering to glance at Van, keeping his eyes on Ewa. His ears tell him enough about the pirate's position. "And the pirate is right about one thing, you are rather captivating."
-
While Ewa's little show wasn't what Van expected, it was nonetheless mesmerizing.
How does she do all this so effortlessly?! It's easy to see she has excellent skills for many things. I was right in guessing she'd make an excellent Pirate. She'd make a great student to that nut, Jack, and probably can run The Gauntlet with ease. She might beat my record, even! And, unlike a lot of lady Pirates I've seen, she not only has class, but she definitely has...
Van's eyes eventually rested at her breasts. The folds of the robe were loosening, and he couldn't help but feel a little -her hands!- Van made a quick glance at where she palmed the vial, and grinned, his eyes reaching hers.
"What is Vivalite used for, anyways?" She asked. Van gulped. Answering this question might pique her curiosity a little too much. He had to be careful...
"Vivalite, chaa," he began, his sudden accent betraying his anxiety, "is the illegal-drug. The useful drug. It, anh, can heal the body. Fix the genes. And, mmm, can restore the young-look. When I say ' fix the body', I mean it."
It was a suitable explanation, but suddenly, Van realized it would be dangerous if she didn't hear about the problems. He didn't want her addicted, and the drug had ruined so many perfectly good pirates already. He didn't care if it destroyed a member of the Oligarchy (almost all of them used Vivalite), but this woman from a place nowhere like his own world? He couldn't risk it, and the thought concerned him.
"But, it causes the addiction! This, the Green Stuff, especially! We would need the diluting substance, that vial is too pure."
Phew! Just please don't try it, you don't need it, anyways, sweet Ewa...
-
Al laughed and turned back to Jasper. "Hey, at least some of us are the good kind of crazy, eh?" he said, lightly punching Jasper's shoulder.
He turned and nodded to Zorish, "Yeah, 'uptight' is probably a good word. Nobody here ever seems to want to have any fun. Oh, my friend and I..." he began answering Zorish's question, but paused and internally amended his answer with a brief look at Zorish's uniform. "We were in kind of a pickle. We have a way to randomly throw ourselves... like, elsewhere. We used it to try to get away, and wound up randomly throwing ourselves here." He shrugged, "We definitely didn't set out to find a bar. I'm... kinda glad we did, though." He smiled, "You might be the first one I've met who came here by choice." With that, he turned, waved the bartender over, and began attempting to discuss with him what he might mean when he said 'regular' as opposed to 'usual.'
Salem rolled his eyes slightly and smiled at Efaen. "Look at it however you need to. Just don't make the mistake of so many of your leaders and underestimate them. I've seen it happen far too often." He shifted his weight, adjusted his hat, and crossed his arms. Maybe it was time to change the subject.
"So, Efaen, what part of the homeworld are you from?"
-
Mike finds himself back in control of his body, leaning heaving against the control panel with one hand and holding the metal container the Malleons are imprisoned in to his chest.
"Right," he breathes, "bartering." He clears his throat. "Well, I...I used to be in public relations." Mike straightens his back and looks over at Illim, then past him towards the hatch. His head is still ringing from the otherworldly cry of anguish, and he blinks down at the metal container, finding it hard to believe that such a real and...and almost human cry came from the tiny creatures trapped within.
With shaky legs he walks to the hatch, giving Illim a grin that is more like a grimace.
"Salem," he calls, finding his voice as he leans out over the threshold. "Reckon you'll want your little friends back, hmm?"
-
Salem turned to look up the ramp at Mike and furrowed his brow in a pretty good impression of concern. "That is why I'm here. Are they okay? Did anything go wrong with getting them out? It didn't... sound like it went smoothly." He took a few steps up the ramp and attempted to catch a glimpse of the 'jar.'
-
~The Polkaris~
Ewa was tentatively pleased with her trick's reception. "I can do some knife tricks as well, yes. Fumbling those is rather more spectacular though. And often painful," she answered Rathien. "I'd much rather try to be captivating without bleeding," she smirked, "not that I really believe either of you could be captivated by an idle trick."
Van answered her question about the Vivalite, but he sounded nervous about it. He's worried about what he can and can't say.... "it can heal the body and fix the genes". Unimprinted supplements? That certainly wasn't what the vial looked like. But if we're all trapped here, attacked and killed off one by one, unimprinted supplements of even the coarsest sort would be in high demand. How would anybody ever get them though? Ewa remembered her vials of imprinted supplements, hidden back with her other effects, and they suddenly seemed more precious than anything. But why was I allowed to make them? And if there are ways of making supplements like that, why is Van being secretive about this stuff?
Frowning in deep thought, Ewa reached over to the spill on the carpet, scraped a finger through it, and delicately touched the tip of her tongue to the green residue. She swirled it around in her mouth for a moment, pondering, then swallowed. "It's supposed to be injected, isn't it? Lots of unprotected cells and not many chemicals." She flicked her knife out of her wrist strap with a small flourish and a smile for Rathien. In a moment she had the tiniest of cuts on the back of her other hand. Resheathing, her knife, she reached towards the spilled Vivalite again, this time smearing a tiny amount across her cut.
Ewa stared down at her hand, focusing on what was happening there. That's odd, it's almost like.... are the cells in there trying to bypass my shifting system? What do they think they're doing? It was like having a separate shifting system working inside her body, but it had no idea what it was doing. It was just wave upon wave of "Grow! Divide! Heal! Repair! Redo!" over and over again. How the hell did someone even think of this? The little things had lots of energy though, she had to give them that. I need to divert this all somewhere and kill off those things. Nothing big though, don't want to lose my energy.... ah! Pigment was one of the easiest things to change and her body still remembered being Tisgres. A dark pattern of vines and leaves spread across her hand, tiny hints of color sometimes visible at the edge of shapes. A few seconds later the pattern disappeared again and she felt the intrusive system die, attacked by her guiding system. She used the last bit of energy to speed healing the cut on her hand--it was closed and barely visible.
Ewa grimaced and wiped a bit of sweat from her forehead. "That is some nasty stuff. Even in an emergency I'm not sure I'd want to have that."
-
Zorish nods, and looks as though he has more than a few questions to ask Al, but he turns to attempt making conversation with the bartender. Taking a pull of his drink, he turns instead to Jasper.
"And you?" he asks with a smile, noticing that he is beginning to feel a tad lightheaded. He places his drink back on the table firmly. "How did you manage to come to this lovely place?"
Efaen's response is promptly interrupted by the return of "Corliss". She takes a small step away from Salem, distancing herself from the trader. He seems agreeable enough, but she does not entirely trust him, nor his claim of having lived among the Andalites when he is clearly not Andalite himself.
Terenia breathes an internal sigh of relief as Mike takes over the proceedings. She could have taken the words from his head, of course, but she simply feels too exhausted at this point. All she wants is to curl up in a ball and go to sleep. To forget about her stupid sister - the dead version and the living - to foget about her terrifying, growing feelings for Corliss and Mike and to forget about that ray of hope Ossanlin had given her. Would I even know how to be human again? she wonders, not really paying attention to Mike and Salem's conversation.
-
((Okay, the moment you've all been waiting for....>:D Well, sort of. XD))
Keshin sits up from her place at the Bar, thoroughly drunk. She'd been seeing patrons come and go all night and it was probably time to head back to the ship. She wasn't even really sure why she hadn't left before: something about this Bar kept people inside. Keshin, stumbling, shoves a few Imperial credits on the table (probably not nearly enough) and wanders out the door of the Bar. Following the road to the docks, she sees something...impossible.
There was clearly another ship already landing---and a really ugly, near-unusable Bug fighter at that. Walking out of this Bug was...her own host. Dressed in very, very strange clothes. Almost a modified Imperial jumpsuit. Keshin raises an eyebrow and hurries past this....person. This Bar was beginning to seem very disturbing. Something was wrong with it. It was time to leave, quickly.
***********************************************************************************************************
Joanne's timing for re-entering the Bar might have been off. At Keshin's best guess, they hadn't been gone for more than a week and a half. But they needed to make sure the deal with the rebellion was well in hand. They simply hadn't had any takers for the bounty hunter service. Joanne landed the Bug and frowned as she noticed the number of broken ships. Maybe it was a small miracle they'd made it on to the planet properly at all. "Hatch down," mutters Joanne carelessly, putting her Dracon in its holster.
When the hatch of the Bug fighter lowers, Joanne wanders out only to see...herself. In an Imperial uniform. Drunk as a skunk. The drunk her glares at them as she passes.
<Uhm, Kess?>
<No. Nope. We're not thinking about it. Just don't even try to figure it out.>
<But....>
<We don't want to know. ........why do I keep coming to this place?>
-
Van watched warily as Ewa bent over, and pushed the spilled liquid into her body. He winced at her reaction: it wasn't made for her, at any rate. Green Vivalite, specifically, was the Human-made version and while it worked for many organics, its main market was Humans, since many species tended to live longer either naturally, or through permanent genetic modification.
Humans liked to be "in control" of their biological destinies, and perhaps that was why so many were attracted to drugs and medicine. Vivalite was a quick, effective, fix, which delighted Humans, since many didn't always prefer expensive permanent changes to their genetic or physical profiles.
Yet, the price was paid in its addictiveness, and historically, Vivalite could be compared to the opium trade the British used to pressure the Chinese during the Opium Wars, long ago. Thankfully, unlike opium, properly administered Vivalite did its advertised job without too many ill effects. The addiction could even be bypassed with proper single-moment use.
"Like I said," Van stated, "There's the too pureness of the Vivalite. I'm taking the hazardous guess that it started attacking the body, mmm, chaa? It needs to be on the dilute with the other chemicals for it to work right, and even then, I'm not the Doctor, chaa."
He noted the swirling changes in the pigment of her hand, and bit his lip, before it quickly disappeared. She was probably trying to correct the course of the Vivalite, and somehow it worked.
"The body, yours, it's under your control, so you don't... Nichaa, you don't need the Vivalite. In any case, common cases require only the Vivacure, which is weaker, much weaker."
He glanced back at Rathien, and was well-aware that the Hunter had adjusted to his position faster than Van. I feel so out of whack. It's like how I felt when I left Beryllia all over again... Tch. I need to step it up. If the rest of the Court could see me now, they would be wondering what's wrong with me!
I'm a Pirate Lord, dammit! I didn't get there fumbling around, all distracted by cute girls and Hegemonic Hunters! If I was back home, this wouldn't be happening. It can't be true, what station you're born in is not genetic.
Van glared at Rathien, his fury at himself and his situation growing, I may have been born beneath this guy, but by traditional birthright, I'm on even with him. Better than him, even. And besides, I've unchained myself from that world!
I have to get a serious grip on things, or I'm going to lose this game.
-
"Yeah, it really didn't," Mike says testily, waving the container. "Shouldn't you know whether this whole process is going to kill your bloody mates?"
-
Jasper laughs awkwardly at Al's comment. He scoops his woodshaving into a neater pile on the table, when Zorish asks him a question.
"I uh, well, I'm here on vacation, you could say. Things were getting... uh, boring, back at home, so I needed to get some space, y'know? Take a break from the normal stuff." He laughs. "Boy, did I sure succeed there, huh?" "I ... borrowed a ship from a friend of mine, and kinda just.... ended up here by mistake. Must have hit the wrong coordinates or something. I'm not exactly a great pilot or anything. "
<<Friend of yours? That's the fattest lie I've ever heard.>>
<<Oh, should I have just said Visser Three then?>>
<<...Carry on...>>
"So... yeah, that's it, basically. No clue how long I'll be here. It's only been a few hours since I landed anyways, but it sure does feel like so much longer. Like the time we were waiting in line for that roller coaster ride behind that big fat guy with the ponytail who would *NOT* stop yammering about some stupid politics stuff. Seriously, that was the BORINGEST thing ever. The line was probably only like, ten minutes long, but OH. MY. GOSH. He just made it that much worse. It took forever for us to get up to the loading station, and it wasn't even that fun, in my opinion."
Sapttus had gone off on some wild tangent.
<<What the heck, dude?>>
<<I told you I thought it was going to be a dumb ride!>>
<<No! Sapttus! Take a chill pill, man, you're gonna freak her out!>>
Japser wrenched back control, although admittedly, Sapttus didn't resist much at all.
"This place is kinda crazy like that too. Maybe not as aggravating yet, but crazy none the less. But hey, at least it isn't boring here, right?"
He grins, as if that would make everything seem normal.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien smiles at Ewa once more. "Yes...but generally if the stakes are higher, the payoff is much more grand. A bit like the old hunting addage...the greater the risk, the greater the feast. Weak prey may pose no threat, but hunting strong prey...that is living." Rathien grins again. "Of course, there are other types of hunting, where the goal is not a kill. In fact, one can hunt without causing any harm at all." He watches Ewa's skin shift and change, molding and shaping. And then Van mentioned something about her being able to control her body. "That is beautiful." He indicates the vine-like pattern on her hand. "Are you able to do this at will?"
He ****s his head a bit before finally turning his eyes on Van. The man looked furious and...befuddled. How entertaining. "What's the matter senrin*? You seem a bit...perturbed." He shows his fangs in another wide grin before returning his eyes once again to Ewa.
*If Van does indeed know some Ildari, just to let you know Pyre that senrin is a word that has changed meaning over many years. In effect it means "lesser one", though its true meaning dates from the time when Ildiar used a caste system. This was the word used by the upper-class when addressing someone lower than them. The caste system is no longer used on Ildiar, so the meaning has changed into an insult of sorts...when using the word now it means that the one using the word wants the one who's listening to know that the speaker thinks himself above the listener and wants the listener to know his opinion. Ironically both definitions fit this situation rather well. :p
-
Illim trails behind Mike and Terenia to the open hatch, standing behind them to watch. He folds his hands across his chest, trying to answer the question Terenia had voiced: what do we want from him?
They really shouldn't have to be in a position to barter, considering they didn't choose to have these strange creatures placed on Corliss's ship, Illim figures. But since their hand has been forced, why not force his in return?
A toothy grin creeps onto his face as a reflection of his thoughts.
Serid glances to the Andalite named Claxter as he approaches their table. The human nothlit's dark eyes narrow, betraying the agitation with the Warrior that he still harbors for his eagerness to speak to an Imperial regarding the rebellion.
He turns his attention to Jocun again and murmurs, "Perhaps you already answered, but I am curious as to what brought you here."
-
"I just felt it was time for a break from the current monotony, you know? Take a break. Go somewhere new. Obviously this place isn't well known, for one reason or another. And you? What brought you here? You are interested in the rebellion, yes? Did you come here seeking them?" Jocun asked.
Claxter saw Serid narrow his eyes at him. He gave him an inquisitive look, but didn't say anything. Was he annoyed that Claxter had talked to Zorish?
-
After a few moments, Al sighed, shook his head, and turned back to the conversation at hand. He listened to Sapptus's rambling, a slight look of concern crossing his face.
"Sounds like that roller coaster was just asking for a Furka overhaul. Hey Jasper, think maybe you need something to eat?" he asked. He hoped his hint wasn't too subtle- Does Sapptus need oatmeal?
He looked back at Zorish, "Yeah, time here doesn't seem to pass in the normal way. It's weird, but even my internal clock's been having trouble keeping everything straight."
Salem responded to Mike, "That should have been nothing but safe for them. They should have moved by choice. It doesn't even do anything to them." He started moving up the ramp, "Let me see if they're alright."
-
Ewa frowned in confusion at Rathien when he gestured to her hand and asked if she was able to do that at will. "At will"? As opposed to? Well, I wouldn't have done it if not for the Vivalite, but... Van captured her attention before she was able to put her thoughts in order though--his rather confusing explanation of Vivalite aside (dilution wasn't going to change the fact the the stuff was full of abberant cells that didn't submit to a shifting system, which made it almost useless and possibly dangerous). He was glaring at Rathien, his expression both furious and slightly off-balance. What happened? Her eyes jump back to Rathien, but the assassin is still just crouching on the floor, an amused smile on his face. What did he do while I wasn't paying attention?
"Van?" Ewa asked worriedly. "What's going on? What happened?" She stood up and backed a few steps away, eyes flicking back and forth between the two men, ready to draw her knife though she doubted it would do much good.
-
Efaen watches the exchange impassively, her arms folded across her chest. Her main eyes are narrowed at the two Yeerks aboard the Skimmer, while one stalk watches Salem cautiously. Her remaining stalk eye scans the area for trouble. She does not offer any commentary on the exchange, both because she does not entirely understand what is going on and because it is of no business to her. Instead, she sends "Corliss" a private message.
<<Corliss, we must speak immediately regarding my transfer to your base. My Prince requires confirmation of our agreement with your leader, and he requires it before you depart.>>
Terenia flinches internally at Efaen's thought-speak, but she does not deign to answer, although she can think of a few choice words to send flying the Andalite's way. Instead she remains silent, half paying attention to Mike and Salem's exchange and half trying to push away thoughts of her sister.
Zorish watches Jasper for a long moment, not entirely sure how to react to the strange, rambling response he had received.
<<He's crazy,>> Tamora supplies, her anxiety bubbling up in their shared consciousness. <<We should stay away from him. What if he's dangerous? He has that knife...>>
<<He isn't dangerous,>> Zorish scoffs, although his eyes flicker down to the woodshaving pile on the table before returning to Jasper's face. <<He's nervous. I can't imagine why, though. Perhaps it is my uniform. I wonder if every patron here is as staunchly against Imperials as the Andalite.>>
<<If they are, then we should leave,>> Tamora says quickly. <<Now.>>
<<And waste a free vacation?>> Zorish asks with an inward chuckle. <<Where is your sense of adventure, Tamora?>>
Zorish blinks, his eyes coming back into focus as he shifts away from the internal conversation. In his distracted state the one called Al had begun to speak again, and though he misses most of the context one piece of information sticks in his mind.
"No, it certainly isn't boring..." Zorish murmurs in agreement with Jasper, before shooting Al a sharp glance.
"Internal clock?" he repeats. "I was unaware of the fact that human hosts had such abilities..." His gaze shifts between the two of them. "I presume that both of you are of my kind, correct? Perhaps that is a foolish assumption in a place such as this, but I have never seen a human beyond his own planet without a Yeerk in its head."
<<It?>> Tamora asks defensively.
<<Hush, you know what I mean.>>
-
Sami groaned as she sat up and rubbed her head. Light filtered through her eyelids as she winced and hid them behind her hand. It was way too bright. She had only gone to bed a while ago. How could it already be day time? She sat up and slowly opened her eyes, her pupils adjusting to the amout of the light. Her dark green eyes sparkled in the light as she frowned and looked about her. There was a lake to her left, sparkling. There was a slight breeze that rustled through the grass around her, making soft ripples on the lake.
She frowned as she sat up, wincing and making a soft hissing noise as her hand shot up to her head again. It felt wet. She pulled her hand away from her head. Instead of being its natural light green hue on tan, it was dark wil blood. She whimpered softly, not knowing what had happened. Her long, curly black hair cascaded down her shoulders as she tried to push herself up, using a nearby tree to do so. After a few failed attempts, she was finally up and walking. Slowly.
She barely registered where she was as she wandered along, but eventually she heard voices. Stepping out from the tree line she saw a building. She could hear the voices inside. Slowly, she stumbled across the ground between the trees and the building. She almost passed out from the effort, and resorted to leaning up against the wall beside the door to keep herself up.
((I hope this is ok for a starting post >.<))
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Serid supposes it is only natural for the Yeerk to ask him questions in return, but he is reticent to answer, especially when his answer had revealed so little about him.
"No," Serid replies simply. "Tell me, what do you and other members of the Empire do, now that the war is over?"
Illim rests his hand casually on his Dracon as he watches Salem approach. When Terenia and Mike do not immediately respond, Illim speaks up.
"Actually," he says, leaning against the ship's open hatch, "we've got a question or two for you first."
-
"Right now we have a large empire and aren't at war with anyone, so we're just working out all the intricacies of actually running an empire instead of expanding and defending. After they finally defeated the Andalites, people started wanting to just relax, you know? The Kelbrid and other species are still out there, and their forces remain strong, so we're not eager to expand anymore."
"Personally I am in charge of one of the more prominent planets, and am constantly working on public relations between the major groups of the Empire. It can be stressful, but rewarding."
-
A portal at the edge of the woods slightly flickered. This portal had been here for quite a while and even had a person go through it at one point. That same person came through the portal again, however this time was different. When he had appeared the first time he had been gravely injured and almost near death. This time he had not a trace of his previous injuries, however he had two new ones.
Two new scars were on this mans face, but even a casual glance would be enough to know that they were very different. The first scar started above his right eye then traveled across and down his face to end below his left eye. This wound was maybe half an inch wide. The second scar started above his left eye and traveled across and down his face to end below his right eye. This scar was perhaps an inch wide.
The human was carrying a staff that was perhaps three and a half feet long and topped with a large ruby about the size of a normal human fist. The human waved his staff at the portal and amazingly the portal seemed to disappear behind thick vines that sprouted from the ground to surround it.
Satisfied that the portal was secure he began walking towards the building known to him as the Galaxy's Edge Space bar. He hoped that Catie had found Van and Ewa while he was gone. As he approached the bar the human noticed two things. The first was that his raven, Grun, was perched on the door frame seemingly waiting for him. The next was a humanoid leaning against the door. This human had tan skin that also seemed to have a greenish tint in it. It's hair was long and as black as Grun. As he got closer he could tell that it was a female. As he drew near he was shocked to see that she was completely naked.
The human removed a cloak that was hanging over his shoulder and tapped the female on the shoulder. "Excuse me miss, but would you have need of this?" he asked as he handed her the cloak. He looked at her and noticed a wound on her head. He looked into her eyes with his unique ones. His right eye a sparkling sapphire blue and his left a shimmering emerald green. "Are you ok?" he asked.
-
Sami had been leaning against the door frame for quite some time trying to keep herself concious, all the while slipping downwards towards the ground. Her vision got blurry as she whimpered and moaned, cradling her injured head. A tap on her shoulder startled her, causing her to jump rather quickly backwards, away from the thing that had touched her. Her green eyes went wide as her skin started to change, sprouting feathers all over her body. She growled as her face became longer and sprouted large fangs, lips folding back over them in a snarl. She dropped to all fours as the bones and organs inside her shifted, until she was fully shaped. She was now about as large as a small child, covered in light green feathers much like her skin had been, but with black stripes throughout it. Her long feathery tail swished behind her angrily, her large ears pulled back against her head, and her large wings pulled against her back.
Sami snarled at the man as she watched him carefully. He had tried to offer her something, and she could now see what it was. It had been a cloak. Presumably because she had been naked. In her village, they didn't wear much clothing. They knew what it was because they had to dress themselves whenever another village visited to trade. Other than that, they never dressed. She looked over the man cautiously, no longer snarling, ears perking up a bit in curiousity. She had spotted his multi-colored eyes.
((She is like a big, feathery flying wolf ^.^))
-
When he had tapped the female on the shoulder he had been expecting gratitude or repulsion, however her reaction was nothing that he could ever imagine. She had jumped backwards and seemingly transformed herself into a strange creature that looked to be a mix between an eagle and a wolf. While this intrigued him as an interesting form of magic, Grun was not pleased that his master was being threatened. Grun, the raven, flapped his wings slightly to land on his masters shoulder. He extended his wings to their four foot span and cawed angrily at this strange creature that a moment ago had been a human female.
The human reached up and patted Grun on the head, whispering softly so the creature/female would not hear. Almost immediately Grun calmed down and flapped back to his post above the door. The human laid his staff on the ground and stood to his full height. He then extended his arms out to side to show that he had no weapons. "I do not wish to harm you in any way. I am only trying to lend you my assistance." he said in a very reassuring tone of voice.
-
Sami had been inspecting the thing curiously, even though her vision was a bit blurry. But then suddenly there was a shadow above her and she cowered, then realized it was onyl a small bird that landed on the tall things shoulders. It was a simple bird, looked like a hatchling from her planet. One of the ones that grew to have long metal talons and a sharp metal beak with gleaming sharp black feathers. But it wasn't, as she could tell by the noise it let loose. It was much softer than the calls she was used to. She calmed herself again, letting her feathers lay flat on her bod, for they had stood up in alarm at the shadow.
The tall thing patted the angry bird's head and muttered something to it, but Sami could not understand what was said. This thing obviously knew that she may be able to hear him. Interesting. The bird calmed itself and flew back to its perch near the door. The thing then opened its arms wide, and Sami started to snarl again, her ears back and feathers up, even her wings up a bit, ready to fly. But then it spoke. "I do not wish to harm you in any way. I am only trying to lend you my assistance," it said. The voice was lower but soft and reassuring. She could only guess it was male. She watched him warily, once more letting her feathers settle. Her wings rustled as she took a very slow step forward, trying to watch him and the bird.
-
The female shape-shifter in it's strange hybrid of eagle and wolf form had taken a cautious step forward. It was obvious that this creature wanted o trust him, but was still ready to run or fight if he made a wrong movement. The human had no intention of making a wrong movement, but wanted to earn the complete trust of this creature. He could see that even though the female had changed into this creature her head wound was still present and bleeding.
He spoke softly and reassuringly, trying to convey that he meant no harm. "My name is Larry Foulke and I am a Druid. I am very interested in your form of magic and would love to discuss it with you. However your wound is still present and you are in need of a healer."
-
Sami tilted her head curiously, and her ears perked up. Magic. He was talking about magic. She laughed, a combination of a soft bird of prey cooing to its hatchlings and the low snuffling of a wolf. It wasn't a pretty sound, but it wasn't all that scary either. She shook her head a bit, causing her to stumble to the side some, regaining her footing before she could bump into the side of the building.
Then she began to speak. Her voice was gruffed by the vocal chords of a bird/wolf, but it was still a nice voice to hear. "Magic you say? Ha! This is no magic. This is what my race does. We scoff at the ideas of magic. Well, some of us anyways..." Her village in particular believed in magic, but she did not. She believed whole-heartedly in the ocld, hard facts, and often wished to visit the big cities on her home world to see all the technology she had always heard about, but which her village never had, because they thought it was black magic.
Sami sat back and smiled a toothy grin at this..... Larry Foulke. Her tongue lolled out of the side of her mouth some as she panted a bit, her feathers standing up and tilting this way and that until they were at just the right angles to allow smooth air flow around her body to cool her off. Her head was still bleeding, but she wasn't making a note of it. She was a bit more interested in this male at the moment. "What is a Druid? Is it some sort of spellcaster? Magic weaver?" she asked curiously.
-
When she said that what she did was not magic and that she scoffed at magic he was not angry. He had gotten angry at Catie when she had said that magic was not real, but Tyrael had told him that this galaxy was full of strange creatures and that most of them did not believe in magic. It was something that Larry had come to accept.
"I am able to cast some spells that are nature based. I can control fire and wind to an extent, however it is very tiring to do so. I can also command some animals, Grun being my most faithful. As for my nature spells allow me to show you." Larry said. He slowly crouched down to the ground, still keeping his hands at his side. He reached down and grabbed a clump of soil and then pressed it between his hands and got a very concentrated look on his face. When he opened his hands there was a small green sprout. It quickly grew into a fully bloomed red rose, which he extended towards this creature.
"Can you transform into anything else? Also if you feel comfortable telling me I would be interested to know what your name is?"
-
Sami watched him curiously. This was one of the forms of magic that her village so revered. Some actually practiced it, but it was extremely hard to manage. Most just changed into the wonderful creatures around them that had certain abilities that could help them to make such beautiful things. She watched as he made the pretty little red thing sprout from the soil, and even leaned forward to smell it. It smelled sweet andintoxicating. She smiled a bit before reluctantly pulling herself away. "My name is Sami," she continued in her animalistic voice. "Sami Chee. But that is only the shortened version. I would prefer that if you call me anything, you call me that. And yes, I can change into other things. But not right now." Her head wound was finally taking its toll.
The shape she had taken had given her strength and endurance, but not even the famous bird-wolves could stand a wound like this for this long. She slowly started to regain her normal shape, the feathers seeming to slide back into her skin, her ears returning to normal as her tail shot back in towards her body. Her wings slowly dissolved into her back as her bones and organs returned to their rightful places and she was sitting on the floor, still naked.
-
Larry took note of her name and then watched her transform back into herself. She was unfortunately still naked so he again handed the cloak to her. He took a closer look at her wound and realized that she needed a healer soon. "Perhaps we can find a healer inside, although I will wait until you are clothed Sami Chee" Larry said as he turned around to give her privacy.
-
Sami smiled at his chivalry and took the cloak from him. She was a bit surprised about him turnign away, though. She was quite average in looks. But, then again, who knew what it was like wherever he came from. Or anyone else in this place, for that matter. So she stood and wrapped the cloak about herself to the best of her abilities, tieing it at the top to help hold it together. "Thank you." she replied, smiling softly.
-
Larry turned back around to see Sami Chee in the cloak and realized with a jolt why he had created the rose for her. I am falling in love with her he thought to himself. Although the thought should have angered him, he realized that this was different than Andra.
Larry held the rose out to her and decided to take a leap of faith. "This is for you, in my culture a red rose signifies attraction to the recipient of the rose."
((Just a side note SamiChee. Use italicized text to signify your char. inner thoughts))
-
Sami blinked and looked a bit taken-aback. Maybe she was wrong. No time to think now though. "Thank you." She gently took it from him, smiling softly as she pushed a bit of hair out from her face and tucked it behind an ear. Well, this is a bit odd. Even where I come from, this has the same significance. But why.... She pushed her thoughts away and brought the rose to her nose, closing her eyes and breathing in its intoxicating smell. Then she sighed softly and opened her eyes. She slipped the rose under the cloak. "All right, now what?"
-
Sami Chee had accepted his rose and even seemed to be flattered by his statement which gave him confidence. He smiled slightly and said "Now we find a healer for your wound. Although I am not sure we will need one." Upon closer inspection Larry noticed it wasn't as serious as he initially though it to be. "I can stitch this up for you myself if you would permit me too." Larry said as he opened the door for her to walk through.
-
Sami nodded and stepped cautiously in through the door. Her eyes seemed to glow for a moment as they adjusted to the slightly gloomy interior. She stepped to the side of the door so that he could follow her through. She almost bumped into a table, but barely caught herself. She had grabbed the wall and pulled herself closer to it so as to not be in anyone's way. She looked back to the door for the man who was going to help her.
-
Sami Chee walked into the bar and almost stumbled before catching herself and pulling herself closer to a wall. It seemed that her vision was not used to the gloom of the bar. He walked into the bar and offered his arm to Sami Chee if she wished to allow him to escort her through the tables to the actual bar itself.
-
Al grinned at Zorish, "You know, you Yeerks are kinda the masters of the whole 'what you see isn't what you get' bit, but you never really seem to be ready to be on the receiving end of it." He glanced over as a new woman stumbled into the bar, bleeding from a head wound. Moments later, the bar's next-most-recent arrival, the previously injured humanoid, appeared and began speaking with her. He kept an eye on the woman's transformations and their conversation as he continued speaking to Zorish and Jasper.
"This place is a crazy mishmash nexus of universes. I actually don't think anything's a safe assumption here," he said, before adding as an afterthought, "except that the booze is good and the customers colorful. Those have been constants since I got here. For example," he briefly allowed his hologram to dim, though only in his face. The result was a transparent version of his human face superimposed over his grinning Chee form. "I'm not remotely human." He quickly brought his hologram back to full strength and reminded himself to glance around for Rathien. He shook his head slightly as he realized Salem now had him actually trying to be slightly paranoid.
He smiled at Zorish and nodded towards the newcomer, "I guess a first aid kit might be required equipment at this bar, too." He turned to the bartender, "Hey, can I have a couple of clean towels please? One wet, and at least one dry. Not planning on giving them back, but I'll pay for them." The bartender grudgingly obliged, and Al grabbed the towels and walked over to Sami.
"Hey. That's a nasty-looking cut." He held out the wet towel with a smile, "This might at least help you get yourself cleaned up. I think there's a washroom back there, too," he nodded towards the back hallway. "And I figured these might make a decent temporary bandage," he said with a shrug, holding up the two dry towels. "I'm Al, by the way." He winked at Larry, "Glad you seem to be feeling better. What do you two call yourselves, if you don't mind my asking?" He smiled, "You two know each other?"
-
|CATIE
At that moment Catie walks into the bar upset at her luck; she had not found Ewa or Van. But she smiled mischievously as she saw Larry with another girl.
"Hey Larry. I see you've made a new friend."
-
Salem sighed and gave Illim a look that was halfway between curious and annoyed. "Happy to answer, Illim, but can it wait just a bit? I've got potentially injured crew here and I'd like to make sure they're okay, and get them somewhere safe."
-
Sami happily took Larry's arm, staying as close to him as she could. Next thing she knew, people were starting to crowd them. She tried to stay as close to Larry as she could, hiding her face against his shoulder as feather patterns started to appear across her skin, ready to shift. Why are so many people interested in me? ...... Oh yeah. My head.... She absentmindedly raised a green tinged hand to her head, the cloak splitting open some, but not enough to potentially reveal anything, as she was naked underneath it.
-
Larry turned towards the voice and recognized Catie. He was a bit relunctant to tell her what had just happened, but Larry could not stand the thought of lying to his friend. "Greetings Catie, this is Sami Chee and I met her when I returned from the portal. She also needs to be stitched up so I volunteered."
Larry lowered his voice and leaned in to whisper in Caties ear. "Please do not be offended Catie, but I have offered a red rose to Sami Chee. In my culture it signifies attraction to the recipient of the rose."
Larry straightened up and spoke in a normal tone of voice "Did you find Ewa and Van?"
-
Catie's smile got bigger, "You volunteered to take care of her, eh? And how long did it take you to come to this decision?", her voice took on a playful, mocking tone.
Her smile lessened slightly and she became more serious, "Offended? Why would I be offended? I don't like roses, I like Idollian Lillies!"
Her smile faded to an indignant look, "No, I didn't find them...they're probably in one of the ships!"
-
Sami was a bit confused by the pairs exchange. They seemed happy in the beginning, but now they almost seemed tinge hostile. At least, the female did. It was odd. Sami looked up at Larry's face looking for comfort in his beautiful eyes, but instead noticed what she hadn't before. A scar, or two, that intersected and made an X almost directly across his face. Why didn't I notice that earlier? Oh I'm always able to spot those types of things........
((Hey guys, just a heads up. I need to go to sleep soon x.x))
-
Larry was unsure of how to react to Catie's statements. The first she seemed to be mocking him in a somewhat friendly manner. However when he told her about giving the rose to Sami Chee she was not the least bit offended. If anything she almost seemed to be insulted that Larry would actually show interest in her. Catie also seemed more concerned with finding this Van and Ewa than Sami Chee's wounds and that was the final insult.
Larry drew himself up into a stiff stance and said in a voice so cold it was amazing that his breath didn't fog when he spoke. "Well good luck in your search Catie. Now if you will excuse us, Sami Chee needs to be stitched up soon." Larry turned and walked towards the bar pushing Catie out of his mind and hopefully out of his life.
-
Sami gasped and quickly covered her moutha s Larry started to abruptly move away from...Catie. He had been so cold to her... I wonder what she did that made him change his tone like that? She hoped she didn't ever do the same thing. He looked scary when he was mad. Sami made sure to keep right beside him as he moved along.
-
Larry arrived at the bar and found a stool that was relatively clean. He spoke to Sami Chee "Sami Chee I wish to apologize for my actions just now. I felt that Catie was insulting me and she did not seem the least bit concerned for you which caused me to lose my temper." Larry made a small bow to Sami Chee and then turned toward the bartender. "May I have a needle and thread as well as a small bowl of pure alcohol, please?" he asked the bartender. The bartender looked at him for a moment and then got the things that Larry had asked for without a word.
"Thank you sir." Larry said to the bartender. He then expertly threaded the needle and then put it in the bowl to sanitize it. "If you will please sit and tilt your head back I will close that wound for you Sami Chee." Larry said as he indicated the stool in front of him. "Will you need something for the pain?" he asked.
-
Al shrugged as Sami and Larry ignored him and walked off. He tossed the towels to the bar counter, "I won't be needing these after all. Don't charge me for 'em," he said to the bartender as he retook his seat with Zorish and Jasper. He shrugged again, "See? Crazy. Nothing's ever predictable here."
-
Sami sat on the stool that Larry pulled out. "Its no problem. I understand." She smiled softly at hiim and pulled some hair back from her face. He then asked the man behind the counter for a few things, which the man produced. When Larry told her he would stitch her up, she nodded a bit nervously and tilted her head to the side some, pulling the hair away from her neck. She had hit a rock right below her hairline, and the blood had been trickling down her neck for some time now.
((Sorry Lummy >.< I was just following Larry... I remembered you XD ))
-
At first Catie thought he was joking...I mean, what the heck wastgere to get angry about?
But as he continued to walk away, her eyebrows went up slowly in amusement, "Oookaaay," she said quietly to herself, "Well that was certainly different."
She thought about just leaving, but she was curious as to...well why the heck he had gotten so upset. She slowly walked up behind him and took a seat two seats away, "Hey grumpy, what was that all about?"
-
Larry really wanted to ignore Catie, but from her tone he could tell the she was not going to simply give up. Even though Sami Chee had not answered his question yet, this needed to be dealt with. He faced Catie and again spoke in that icy cold tone of voice. "You insulted me and you did not show the least bit of concern for Sami Chee. In fact you poked fun at the fact I was willing to help out. I seem to remember you doing the same when I was brought aboard your ship."
Larry took a deep breath and then continued his rant at Catie. "I appreciate Ogreon and Doctor Vallav healing me, but you seem to think I shoud not do the same for Sami Chee here. That is why I lost my temper and that is why I ask you to leave. I did not agree to help you in your search for Van and Ewa so I will stay here with Sami Chee."
Larry took one final deep breath and said to Catie "Now leave us in peace, please."
Turning back to Sami Chee he spoke in his soft voice "I am terribly sorry about this Sami Chee. Please forgive me." Larry bowed his head to Sami Chee. "Did you want anything for your pain Sami Chee?" Larry asked again.
-
Sami watched the exchange warily, and a bit unnerved. Well, now I know..... She shivered a bit. Then Larry turned back to her. He kept using her full name - well, shortened full name. It was getting on her nerves just a bit, but she smiled at him anyway - sweet and sincere. "I am not all that sure. I have never really had a wound like this before. And by the way, you don't need to call me Sami Chee all the time. One or the other is fine."
((I do actually need to sleep haha xD))
EDIT: Answered question xD
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Catie raised an eyebrow, but then got a sadder look on her face. Her voice took on a much softer, gentler demeanor, "I never said any such thing. I was only having some fun. Of course I think you should take care of...Sammi. But you didn't look like you were in any rush yourself, so I figured it wasn't that serious."
"I'm nit sure how I insulted you, but I apologize...I was only trying to get a laugh from you or Sammi. But, with all due respect, I didn't ask you to help me find Van and Ewa just now. I was going to give up for now to hang out with you to see if either of you needed any help..."
Now Catie raised an eyebrow, "But if you really want me gone, I can go."
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((Mod Note: Just a friendly reminder to all, please try and keep OOC comments on the OOC thread, we only want OOC comments in the actual RP thread if they are absolutely necessary. Thanks guys. ~Luke))
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"Of course Sami, from now on I shall address you as such." Larry said in response to Sami's request. He listened to Catie's explanation of her actions while he picked up the needle and brought it close to the wound in Sami's head. "This may sting a little, but I must make sure the wound is clean Sami." With that said he picked up the bowl of alcohol and slowly dribbled it over Sami's wound.
Larry had heard everything that Catie had said and was considering what to say to her. She sounded truthfully apologetic and perhaps he had taken what she said out of context. However he decided it shouldn't be his decision alone. "I accept your apology Catie, however you may join us only if Sami wants you to." Larry said in his normal soft tone.
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Sami smiled. "Thank you." Then when he told he the procedure might hurt, she nodded. "Medicine almost always hurts. But it must first hurt before it can heal." Suddenly, a sizzling pain shot through the wound. He had aparently applied the medicine. She gasped and jumped a slight bit in her seat, cupping her hand to her now seemingly burning neck. "Goodness! You weren't kidding!" She whimpered as she tried to calm down, trying to focus on something else to dull the pain, but not too hard. She didn't need to shift shapes. Just ease the pain. She ony then registered that Larry had said it was up to her to decide if Catie stayed. She hesitated a moment, letting Larry do whatever he may need to do with her wound. "Well uh.... I mean, I don't have a big of an objection to her being here... But I don't think you should ask me... I don't even know where I am."
-
Tamora's eyes widen when Al dims his hologram, and Zorish pushes his chair back an inch or two in awe. "You...you are an android?" he sputters. Clearly this was the least of his expectations.
<<A highly intelligent android that has been created to simulate life down to near imperceptibility,>> Zorish says rapidly, storing the information away. <<I have never heard of anything quite so advanced.>>
"How is it-" Zorish begins, but Al has already turned and walked away. Cursing, he turns his gaze on Jasper warily. "And what are you? A Hork-Bajir dressing up as a human for Halloween?"
-
Van ****ed his head to the side, and forced his muscles to relax. It wasn’t a very convincing gesture, really, but doing so helped Van re-organize his thoughts. “Senrin”, eh? Whatever that means, he’s teasing me with it, baiting me... And I am not up for that kind of sh*t!
“Cute,” Van spat, “But I think the lady disapproves. You’ve overstayed your welcome, anyway.” He felt as if it was a great effort just to act normal, but he desperately needed to save face. He gripped the rifle, and thrust it lightly, indicating that he wanted Rathien to move aside.
Then, Van grinned, and licked his lips, “If things go well, and you want to get along, we won’t see a fight. Shall we ‘get along’, Hunter? Besides, I’m not your precious target, am I? Mmm, it’s no use dirtying your hands on an unfortunate distraction.”
He doubted that his assertion was true, but the bluff made him feel better, and far more confident. An energetic surge of pride raced through his body, and he felt renewed.
Now, his muscles finally relaxed, and his eyes gleamed with a familiar look that anyone back home would recognize. Item number 1, ‘Step up my game’? Check.
Heh. Just one little bluff changes it all… Even if he says I’m wrong, I don’t think I’d care. I mean, what’s wrong with me, anyways? Even if I am being hunted, that’s part of the deal in this line of work, eh?!
Seeing it that way certainly helps. Man, it’s going to be a real pain just to climb out of this hole! It’s no use being mopey, now: I have a reputation to not only keep up, but to make!
-
Larry began stitching the wound up as quickly and efficiently as he could. Although his previous wounds had needed the expertise of a healer this wound was similar to some of his previous minor wounds that he had stitched up himself. All in all it was doubtful that anyone else could do a better job with only the tools he was using. Of course Doctor Vallav could do better, but he had his technology to help him.
Larry spoke to Catie has he was finishing stitching the wound "Well Catie since Sami does not have a problem with you staying with us then you may do so if you wish." Larry then spoke to Sami "You are in the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar. I am not sure where we are exactly since I come from a different land all together, but you could ask Catie, she might know. Now let's get something to clean up that blood." Larry turned to the bartender and asked "Could I borrow a wet towel please? Preferably a clean one sir."
The bartender handed him one that happened to be on the counter on the other end of the bar. "Thank you sir." Larry said to the bartender and then turned to Sami. "Please allow me to clean this blood off of you Sami." He said as he began to gently wipe the blood off of her face and neck.
-
As Al settled back into his chair, he chuckled, "I actually prefer the term 'AI,' but if 'android' works for you, it works for me."
He'd caught the tail end of Zorish's comment to Jasper, and he looked down at his wrist. "Halloween already?" He shook his wrist and held it up to his ear as though there were a broken watch on it- which of course there wasn't. "Good costume, man," he said to Jasper with a grin.
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Sami smiled softly and tilted her head to the side some more so that he could get some of the blood that had run down her neck. She pulled the cloak down her shoulder a bit too since it had managed to get that far. As she sat there and Larry cleaned her up, she let her senses open up to the world around her. She could hear many different conversations going on around her, including one about an android. She had heard the term once or twice before, but never really knew what it meant. She wanted to see, but didn't want to move because Larry was still wiping up her blood. Instead, she turned her attention towards his scar. Her hand raised hesitantly off of her lap, but it was still concealed under the cloak, so he could nt see it. "If you do not mind me asking, how did you get those scars?"
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Larry looked down at this beautiful creature that had so enamored him. "They are the scars that prove I was victorious in battle against two of the Prime Evil Lords." He traced the thin scar the started above his right eye and ended below his left. "This one signifies that I killed Mephisto, the Lord of Hatred." Larry traced the thick scar that started above his left eye and ended below his right eye. "This scar signifies that I killed Diablo, the Lord of Terror."
Larry finished cleaning the blood off and put the towel on the counter. He took a seat to her left and asked "Would you like something to eat or drink?" Larry pulled out a pouch that jingled with the sound of coins. "I will pay for whatever you want. Perhaps you could also tell me about yourself as well? I am interested in how you changed into that creature before." Larry said in his soft tone of voice.
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Sami blinked at his first statement. Then as he told his story, she watched him trace his fingers along his scars. Again, her hand raised up a bit, wanting to touch them. But then he sat to her left and she swiveled a bit to keep an eye on him. He asked her if she wanted anything to eat and she nodded. "If I could get just some sort of sweet food, like a...." She wasn't sure what they would be called on this planet. But he asked her something else. She nodded. "I will share my stories if you share yours." She smiled. "But first, I would like some food and drink, please. Do they have water? Also, theres this fruit on my planet. About the size of my fist and bright red with blue spots on it. Is there anything like that here?" Little did she know she had just described an apple, except with blue spots.
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~Rathien~
Rathien shifts his gaze back to Van. "I don't believe the lady has shown any signs of disapproval. Perhaps you disapprove, pirate." He winks back at Ewa before standing up striaght to face Van, still relaxed with his weight trending on one foot. "Your vision really is too narrow, especially for a Beryllian male. Most Beryllians would see the...value...in my company." He smiles languorously and moves his free hand up to caress the end of Van's rifle sensuously, careful to avoid the hot bayonet without looking like he was doing so. "I would be more than happy to 'get along' with you." He smiles in his most seductive and sultry manner.
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Larry rubbed his chin thoughtfully and spoke hesitantly "Well it sounds like you are perhaps describing an apple as it is the only fist-sized fruit I know of. However apples do not have blue spots in this land at least not to my knowledge." He turned to the bartender and asked "Could we please have a glass of water and a plate of apples? I would also like a glass of mead if you have any?" The bartender went in the back for a moment and laid a plate of apples in front of them. He then reached beneath the bar and pulled out a glass of water and a glass full of a honey colored liquid. "Thank you kind sir."
Larry picked up his glass and took a sip, enjoying the sweet taste and honey flavor. He then dropped some gold coins out of his pouch onto the bar. He then slid the coins over to the bartender, who took them and put them in his pocket. Larry turned to Sami and looked in her eyes with his mismatched ones, the right an emerald green the left a sapphire blue, and asked "So which stories about me do you wish to hear?"
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Sami smiled when the plate of fruits was placed in front of her. They did indeed look like the fruits from her world, but without the blue spots. Just as Larry had said. She picked one up and carefully bit into it, not sure if it was sweet like the fruit she was used to. But it was. It had a slightly sour edge to it, but it was still sweet and juicy. Some of its colorless juice trickled down her chin, and she just left it. On her planet, they didn't care much about getting messy with food. She smiled at Larry when he asked her a question. "Well, can I know what your world is like? It sounds very interesting, what with magic and all." She giggled a bit, slightly distracted once more by his mismatched eyes.
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Larry thought back to his lands and got a farawy look in his eyes and in his smile. It was very apparent he was remembering good times. Larry sighed and brought his mind back to the present. "I as well as all Druids live in the forests of Sanctuary. It is a somewhat peaceful existence although it hasn't always been so. Some people considered our brand of magic to be a sin. They felt that only God may have the power to control nature itself. That is what we do and we don't know anything more than that. We do not learn this magic, we are born with it."
Larry took a sip of his mead and looked at Sami. "Perhaps now you can tell me about your land and what it is like?" Larry asked.
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Sami smiled softly and nodded along with his story. She knew a bit of what it was like to be somewhat exiled like that, but she wasn't exiled from the world, even though she didn't have many friends. He had an entire race to dwell with, even if it was away from everyone else. He was lucky.
He then proceeded to ask her a question. She giggled. "My world is full of trees, or at least, my village is among the jungles. Everyone on our world has the ability to do what I can, but those of the cities have grown tired of it and do not practice it anymore. Many say they have evolved to not need to know how to shift anymore. But I have seen someone from te city, and they can still do it. But usually not all that often. People like me, like my village, we need our ability to survive. It seems we have the same ability as some other species in the galaxy called Andalites, but we do not have the same restrictions as them. Have you ever heard of the Andalites?"
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Larry thought for a moment as the name seemed strange, but he did know what Sami meant. Tyrael, the archangel who was banished to Earth for assisting mortals, had given Larry much knowledge about this place. "Yes Tyrael told me much of this place and a lot of the creatures that reside here as well. Although he did not describe a species like yourself." Larry told Sami.
Larry reached over to the plate and grabbed an apple. He bit into it, chewed and swallowed before taking another sip of mead. As his eyes once again returned to rest on Sami he noticed that a bit of apple juice had dribbled on her chin, but even so she still looked radiant. He had a strong urge to tell her so and did not think to stop himself before he spoke "You are so very radiant and beautiful, Sami" Larry spoke in his soft tone of voice.
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Sami nodded a bit, unsure of who he was talking about. She was about to go on when he remarked about how she looked. She blinked and paused for a moment before regaining her composure at least a little bit. "Um.. why... thank you. On my planet I am just average. Not even really anything to look at. Most males just ignore me. Then again, I do not alter my appearance to get males, like most of the females. They are the ones who pretty themselves up for others... Although, males do it too soemtimes."
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Larry listened to her and felt that she should know just how radiant she really was. "Sami, I do not know what it is like on your home world, but to me you are more than just average. You are the most exquisite creature I have ever laid eyes upon." Larry said in a soft voice that only Sami could hear. "I only wish that you understand how I feel about you Sami, and perhaps those feeling are the same as you feel about me." Larry continued using that soft voice that only could be heard by the two of them.
Larry changed to his normal tone of voice "So how did you get hurt? How did you get here?" he asked.
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Sami blinked and drew back an inch from him, confused about how forward he was being. Sure, the males on her planet were straight forward when they wanted a female, but it was odd to have a different race doing the same thing. And she was even more thrown off by his abrupt change of tone. He began to ask her questions and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Well, the thing is.... I don't know. All I remember is falling asleep in my hammock. Then I woke up next to a large body of water and my head was bleeding. I don't even think I was laying on any rocks...."
-
As Larry was listening to Sami talk about how she got here he analyzed her movements and realized something disturbing. She seemed uncomfortable at the way he had expressed his feelings towards her. She didn't reject them, that he could tell, but she was perhaps from a place that did not condone that kind of behavior. It was this thought that reminded him of how he lost Andra, although Baal's influence also had something to do with that.
"Hmmm....perhaps I can help you find out how you got here." Larry said to Sami in a thoughtful manner "If you would want to show me where you appeared I could use my magic to see if there is a residual portal that you went through." Larry drained the last of his mead and turned to Sami and said "Unless you wished to stay here" He did not voice his thought, but they were very apparent in the way he looked at Sami. It was a look of longing, a look that any being could translate to say 'I want to stay with you, no matter where that may be.'
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~The Polkaris~
Ewa tried really hard not to smile, and almost succeeded. She bit the inside of her lip, but her face still glowed with the sly amusement of someone thoroughly appreciating a dirty joke. Very pretty... and they'd do nothing but fight and make up constantly.... how exhausting. A grin broke out on her face for a moment before she suppressed it.
"My disapproval--or lack thereof--doesn't seem to have much bearing on this." She gestured at the space between the two men. "I feel it's about time I had some real clothes again though, so why don't I leave you two to sort this out?" She briefly touched Rathien's shoulder, meeting his eyes, and then slid her hand across Van's shoulder and back as she walked out of the room.
She paused on the threshold. "Play nice while I'm gone." Ewa broke out into a full grin and a small fit of giggles. Ahh! It is wonderful to laugh! Her spirits remained buoyed as she made her way to the common room.
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Sami smiled and relaxed. She nodded to him. "If you would be delighted to help me, I would really like to know what drew me from my home..." She did not voice her opinions about this place, for fear of she might offend Larry. She was starting to like him. His eyes drew her in, and his tone was soft and reassuring, not gruff and demanding like the males of her world. And she liked that. She stood up, the cloak rustling around her as she did so, and she waited for Larry. "I will say, though, that I was a bit dizzy and light-headed from my wound at the time so I may..." She suddenly felt woozy and leaned back into the bar stool, catching herself. She rubbed her eyes some so she could regain her vision. Then she grunted as she pushed herself back up. "Oh, got up too fast... Anyway.. I may not quite know where I am going. I don't quite know how I even stumbled to the bar..."
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Larry noticed her stumble and quickly offered her his arm so she could steady herself and so he could escort her. "Well you said that you appeared by the lake so I believe that we should start there don't you?" He asked in a tone that was friendly, but in a way a little teasing as well. As if it was amusing to point out the obvious which Larry felt that it sometimes was.
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Sami smiled a little bit. "Well of course. I just don't quite know where that is at though." She knew he was just teasing, she could tell by his tone. But this was a very troubling matter. Not one to joke around about. She took his arm gently, looking around at all of the patrons as they walked. She could see a wide variety of races in the bar. Some of them looked very intriguing. Others looked... Well, unintriguing. She remembered that she had heard someone say they were an android earlier, and she would have to find him or her later to talk to them. That would be very interesting.
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While she smiled at his little teasing joke he also knew that she might not think it appropriate at this time. Normally he would attempt to explain, but decided to just let it go for now. As they stepped outside it was a vast change from the gloom of the bar to the bright sunshine.
He leaned down to pick his staff off of the ground where he had laid it and slung it over his shoulder using a thin strip of leather on the staff. Larry also picked up a large clump of soil and pressed it between his hands tightly. He concentrated very hard for a few seconds and then separated his hands. Like with the rose there was a small green sprout sticking out of the soil, however this time it quickly grew into a large fern leaf. Large enough for him to hold over their heads and dim the sunlight somewhat.
Although he tried to let it go he was too nice to not explain his teasing. "I was only teasing you because I was hoping to ease your worry Sami. Forgive me if I insulted you." Larry said as he escorted her towards the lake.
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"I don't know," Van said slyly, still keeping his cool relatively intact, "Would you prefer me at your back, or do you prefer the view of mine?" He lowered his gun, crept to Rathien's back, and grinned.
Ewa sensed the situation, and quickly indicated that she was leaving for her clothes. Van tried to supress a laugh as he made a quick glance in her direction, "Yes, I am in the know that this is of the discomfort to the ladies, chaasi? Your clothes should be, anh, around the second door, the downstairs, where the laundry is, chaa. They should be on the done."
As she left, Van was alone with Rathien, yet he wasn't so terrified by the man, anymore. In fact, he couldn't help but find the situation amusing. For as long as he continued to delude himself, Rathien posed no obstacle to the pirate. The nagging truth of the matter was quickly suppressed by Van's desire to keep things under control.
It's no use getting killed out here, Van thought, But, I don't believe he feels too comfortable below. Hmm, we'll see about that.
Van depowered the bayonet, and then dropped the gun to the ground. He slid his fingers through the tips of Rathien's long, silvery-white ponytail, noting the blueness of the tips. His eyes rested on the Hunter's belt and rear, then moved his gaze and fingers upwards, until he was massaging the base of Rathien's neck.
"I assume that, as with all things," Van considered somewhat haughtily, "You prefer to remain on the Hunt? Mmm, that won't do with me."
He leaned forward and whispered, "I have my preferences, you know. More so than most, I don't enjoy being the target, if you get the say."
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|CATIE
If he takes offense this easy, I can't believe he didnt kill me on the Urtahn..., Catie thought to herself.
"Well...look. I'll make sure to check in on you. I'm going off to look for something strange I think I saw. You look like you're good at taking care of wounds..."
Catie thought of how he might react if she just left.
"still..."
She pulled out a s.e.n.s.o.r. from her pocket and ran it over Sami.
beep....beep....beep....beep....beep....beep-beep-beep.
Catie looked at the readings and smiled, "You'll be just fine. Larry's got you all fixed up, no worries."
She put her hand on Sami's arm, "Good luck. Larry, nice meeting you. I'm off for an adventure."
She smiled again and walked out. At the entrance she put her hands on her hips and breathed in the crisp air. Then she went off again to look for Van and Ewa.
|VOGEFAC
Vogefac sipped the Rev'maak ale the bartender had given him. The girl from before and the man also were in the bar, but they were busy, then the girl left. He shook his head. All his friends - even his acquaintances - had probably been gone for years now. After all, he'd been away for decades. But...he thought he heard a familiar voice...
He turned...and there was the Andalite warrior!
"Claxter!", Vogefac yelled.
He walked over to his old friend.
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<Vogefac? Hey, you're back! How did I not notice you before? How have you been?> Claxter said. He'd been paying attention to other things, and hadn't recognized Vogefac, which was odd since he was quite the recognizable guy. <I don't suppose you've met my Prince Ossanlin and new ally Serid? I'm afraid I don't know who that guy is.>
"You may both call me Jocun." He said. "I'm a controller, but I try not to get into conflict with anyone, Andalite or otherwise. I'm from a timeline where the war is over, so I have no particular animosity towards any species."
<Oh. The Andalites finally won, eh?>
"Uh, no. Not exactly."
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Sami watched Catie as she ran off away from the bar. She really hoped she hadn't offended the female. She seemed really sweet.... Her attention returned to Larry and she nodded. "It is fine. I'm just a little bit sensitive because this is a really pressing matter." She rested her hand near his, as her arm was already looped with his as she began to try to lead him in the direction of the lake. "Do you at all know where the lake is?" she asked. She didn't want to have to wander around forever trying to find it again.
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~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin glances away from Claxter with his main eyes to indicate that he was giving the newcomer his full attention. The species reminded him of a Hork-Bajir insofar as that it was obviously reptillian in lineage. He seems to remember noticing this being some time ago, though he's certain they have never talked more than in passing.
<Hello. I am War Prince Ossanlin-Rethin-Sephirel, Captain of the Dome Ship Tyrennian.> Ossanlin gives his formal greeting so as not to be rude, though does not banter as it is not befitting, besides the fact that he knows next to nothing about this creature.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Rathien~
Rathien raises an eyebrow...the pirate was suddenly very friendly. He had not expected this. Oh dear...this could become downright enjoyable. The Beryllian was not trustworthy by any means, but he was very pretty. He was no more dangerous than Rathien himself, or so Rathien thinks. He slips the knife in his hand back up his sleeve into its sheath. Of course they are on the pirate's turf. What would happen if this went beyond the need for armor? Rathien runs his tongue over his fang again, the danger, the insanity of letting his guard down even for a moment around formidable prey is beyond exciting. It invited the End of the Dream. This situation is a razor's edge, but Rathien intends to walk it as far as the pirate will, even if the other does have the home-field advantage.
"Hmm...you're right, I tend to take what I want. I did not read you as the type to exert himself in this manner." Rathien smiles and moves a hand to Van's side, arching his back against the pirate. He emits a sort of 'purring' noise from his throat as he feels the pirate's hand against the back of his neck. If the pirate had a knife up his sleeve and was fast enough, or strong enough in general, he'd be able to sever Rathien's cervical vertebra without much difficulty. The thought makes him grin wider. "But it depends upon whom I'm with. If prey should be worthy of hunting me in return, I see no problem with reversing the rolls. It's not easy though, restraining a ravenous wolf. I wonder if you have what it takes."
Oh yes...this could indeed become enjoyable.
-
Jasper grinned slightly. "Nah, I'm just a draftsman." Was all he said. "Not exactly scary, huh?" He shrugged. He was tapping his foot, or rather, Sapttus was.
<<You alright up there, buddy?>>
<<OH yeah, sure, I'm fine and dandy.>>
<<You just said dandy. You are not fine.>>
<<What? Pffft. Sure I'm fine, pardner!>>
<<Dude, you sound almost drunk. Let's go fix you some ->>
Sapttus interupted with a more serious tone. <<You're right, you're right. Can't go off like a Loony-Toon in front of the lady here. Ruins your chances for later.>>
<<...oi... You're a hopeless druggie.>>
<<Not as long as I've got you, bub!>>
"Now uh, pardon me miss, but I've got to ... heh, I'll be right back." He says as he scoots his chair away from the table. He holds up a finger as if to prove his intention, and heads for a back room. They stop abruptly, turn back in a rather unusual little manuever, and return to the table. "Uh... forgot my bag..." He says, smiling sheepishly. No point heading to a back room if he wasn't going to bring the stupid oatmeal along. He bends over, zips the pocket closed, and picks it up -banging his head on the table as he did. "Aye!" He says, as half of the pile of woodchips sprinkles on his head.
<<Knew I shoulda thrown those away.>>
<<I told you so, didn't I?>>
<<...uh... nooo... you didn't.>>
<<huh... never mind.>>
He stand up, careful to avoid the tables edge this time. He seems to not be able to decide between stopping to pick up the mess, or heading for the 'restroom' as intended. "I'll uh, come back for this." he says, before turning about-face again and heading behind to the back. He rubs his head as he goes. It didn't hurt that much, but it sure wasn't comfy.
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|VOGEFAC
"I am in tolerable condition. Yourself? And it is a pleasure to meet new friends Jocun. I am in a particularly content mood, seeing as this is my first visit to the bar in decades."
As Ossanlin introduced himself, Vogefacbowed slightly, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, War-Prince Ossanlin. I am Commodore Vogefac, of the Honored Land of Ventii'kaa Province. But you may call me Commodore, or Vogefac."
He turned back to Claxter, "Has anything noticeable occurred at the bar recently? I figured you would not have remained here this long."
-
<Time seems to have passed much more slowly here, since we haven't been stationed here for a decade.> Claxter said. <Is Silver still with you, or did you separate? We almost had someone else try to assimilate everyone since you left, but luckily that has been averted with no loss. The second individual, Theta, had no relation to Fredrick though.>
"How often to these kinds of things happen?" Jocun asked.
<I haven't been here for too long, and there have been two incidents. My Prince could answer that question better.>
"Well I promise not to try to take over this rock and have you all infested. Especially since that may disrupt too many timelines and dimensions. I'm just here for fun, food, and maybe some frolic."
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Larry decided to allow Sami to lead the way to the lake. "It is over on the left side of the bar." Larry said. He stopped for a moment to look over his right shoulder at Grun, who was lightly dozing on his perch above the door. Larry whistled softly causing Grun to wake up and look over at his master.
Larry jerked his head a bit and immediately Grun flapped his wings, caught a minor updraft, and lazily flew over their heads about thirty feet up. While the large fern that Larry was holding to shield their eyes from the sun blocked their view of Grun, his shadow would sometimes appear on the fern leaf. Larry turned to Sami and said "He will keep an eye out for anything that may endanger us. He is a very brave companion and has even saved my life once or twice so do not discount his reliability."
With that they set off for the lake, which could already be seen about 50 feet in front of them, sparkling in the sunlight.
-
Sami smiled and nodded, looking up at the faithful black bird. He was really quite pretty, being as he was not the same as the blades birds on her world. She turned her attention back to the lake and took her arm from Larry's. She ran towards it to see if the could find where she woke up, which she found about 25 feet down the side of the lake, now close to 75 feet from Larry. She knelt down and inspected the bloody spot where she had lain. Sure enough, there were no rocks in the vicinity. Strange... What did I hit my head on then?...
-
Larry watched Sami run to the lake and then along the shoreline until she stopped and knelt down to the ground. It was obvious that she had found where she had first appeared. Larry walked quickly over to her, dropping the fern as he walked, and looked down at the spot she was inspecting. It was clear by the blood on the ground that Sami had been injured, but there were no rocks that could have caused her injury. A couple of trees were nearby, but not close enough for her to hir her head on.
"Well I do not see anything that you could have hit your head on to cause your injury Sami." Larry said in a confused tone. "Were you perhaps injured before you appeared here, Sami?" Larry asked in a worried tone of voice.
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Sami nodded a bit absentmindedly. "I would think so. But how? And when and where? And how did I get here..." She sighed and stood, shaking her head a bit. She closed her eyes and covered them with a hand, crossing the other one across her chest, causing her cloak to open down the middle a bit. She tapped her foot as she stood there, then removed her hand from in front of her eyes and opened then. Her hands returned to her sides. "Just one moment..." She closed her eyes once more, and breathed in deeply, opening her senses to the world around her. She could easily smell her own blood and scent, and could feel the very slight temperature change when the black bird companion of Larry's passed overhead. Her skin tingled as a sligt breeze floated by, whisking its way up her cloak some. Her hair tickled her face in the breeze, too. She could smell the lake and the plant life around her, but nothing that seemed out of place amongst them, besides Larry's slightly peculiar smell and her own. She tried to focus more, her brow furrowing, but she could draw nothing more. She opened her eyes and relaxed. "I cannot sense anything out of the ordinary here... So I have no idea how I got here."
-
Larry watched Sami as she tried to figure out what had happened to her. He himself understood what she must be feeling, being in a strange new land that is not your own and injured. Without a clue as to what happened it was a very scary situation for Sami, as it had been for himself. When Sami told him to wait he noticed something odd. She had become very still and seemed to be concentrating. As if she was trying to sense something. Normally Larry would assume it was a type of magic, but after her earlier statement he figured that she must have an ability that allowed her to focus her senses.
When she opened her eyes and said she could not sense anything, there was a sadness in her eyes and tone of voice. Larry felt that he should try to help her out. "If you will please allow me to try Sami. I may be able to use my magic to help." Larry said in a tone that would hopefully give Sami confidence. Larry removed his staff from his shoulders and stuck it in the ground in front of him. Larry hovered his hands over the ruby, closed his eyes and concentrated.
His brow began to furrow from his concentration when suddenly the ruby began to softly glow. It was if there was a light inside the ruby that allowed it to glow brighter and brighter. Larry opened his eyes to reveal that they were also glowing, the sapphire blue of his right and the emerald green of his left, were getting brighter by the second.
Suddenly, Larry swung his arms out to his side, causing a gust of warm air to expand around him very quickly. The lake rippled, the sand kicked up in a cloud of dust, and the nearby trees swayed away from him. When the wind died down a moment later, Larry took a deep breath. His eyes were no longer glowing and in fact they seemed to be less colorful then before. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forhead and around his twin scars. The ruby on the staff was no longer glowing either and had returned to it's normal color. All of a sudden Larry dropped to his hands and knees, thoroughly exhausted and breathing erratically.
From thirty feet up Grun had watched the entire time. He had barely needed to adjust his flight pattern when Larry had caused the wind gust. However when Grun saw his master collapse he immediately began to dive to the earth as fast as possible, cawing the entire way down out of concern for his fallen friend.
-
Sami frowned and watched Larry curiously as he used his magic. She was entranced when his eyes and the ruby started to glow, and then gasped and stumbled back to fall on her butt when the huge gust of wind was let loose from him. She shielded her eyes from it and the dust that flew up. When it had subsided, she could hear the bird from above let out a very disturbing sound, and looked up to see it diving towards the earth. She could only hope it was to help Larry, and not to hurt her. She crawled over to Larry and patted his back gently, fear and concern written plainly on her face. She wasn't too close, for fear of the protective bird gettint too... well.. protective. She knelt on the ground and bent over a bit so that she could see him. "Are you all right, Larry?" she asked worriedly.
-
Larry heard Grun cawing and knew that it was coming down to make sure he was all right. He then felt Sami patting him on the back and heard her ask if he was all right. He looked up to see that she was scared and worried about him. He did not want to make it any worse so he tried to ease the tension.
"I told you wind magic is tiring" Larry said in a lighthearted way. Although from the way that he was breathing heavily and the sweat that continued to run down his face, it was quite obvious that he was only saying that to lessen the worry on Sami. It was a nice attempt, but doubtful anybody would fall for his tough-guy act. Well I tried and hopefully she will understand he thought to himself.
Suddenly Grun flared his wings and landed gently on Larry's shoulder-blade. He leaned down and nuzzled against Larry's neck to make sure his master and friend was still alive. Although Larry did not have the strength to pat Grun on the head to reassure him he did say "I'm all right old friend, Sami here is going to help."
Upon hearing this Grun turned his head to regard the female. Since this creature had changed into that strange beast and threatened his master, Grun had been wary of her. However his master seemed to trust her and that meant that he could also trust her. Grun began to slowly walk to where the female was patting his master on the back. When her hand rested for a moment, Grun leaned down and began rubbing his head along her hand. Hopefully conveying that he, Grun, was going to trust her and that she should trust him as well.
-
Sami gave a weak smile, knowing he just wanted to sound tough. So she just sat there with him, rubbing hs back some. When his companion perched on his back, she very sowly moved her hand, not wanting to startle him. Larry told him it was all right, and she smiled softly. "Yes. I am here to help." She let her hand rest a moment, and the bird hopped over to her hand. She flinched and tried not to move, again not wanting to startle it. But he just nuzzled her hand. She smiled and giggled softly as she very very slowly lifted her hand to pet his head, tilting her head a bit. "I can pet ou, yes?" she asked. He could obviously understand her because he had understood Larry. Then again, who knew how strong their bond was. Maybe he had really only learned the tones of voice that Larry would use to soothe him and such.
-
When Sami raised her hand slightly Grun did something that he very rarely did with anybody except Larry. He began to rub his body against Sami's fingers so that they were scratching right above his right wing, his favorite spot to be rubbed or scratched.
Larry glanced back and upon seeing this he chuckled. "Well I doubt he's gonna want you to leave us anytime soon." Although he didn't say anything more it was quite apparent that Larry was feeling the same way.
Larry reached into a pouch on his hip and brought out what looked to be a fist-sized clay cup. He handed it to Sami and asked "Could you please get me some water?" in a somewhat breathless voice while pointing the cup towards the lake.
-
Sami giggled and proceeded to scratch him lightly. He seemed to like it alot. Larry mentioned that Grun wouldn't want her to leave. She laughed softly. "I don't either. But then again, I have nowhere else to go..." Her hand fell back to her side a bit sadly. But Larry had asked her to do something. She nodded and took the cup gently from him, going to the lake to kneel down and fill it up. She filled it to the brim and brought it back to Larry, not spilling a single drop while she walked, or while sitting down next to him. She gently held it up to his lips and tilted it some so that he could drink from it.
-
Ewa continued to grin as she entered the common room, half skipping towards the table. I hope they "get along" well. I will have to go back and check. There was just something so enthralling about two beautiful, dangerous, conniving men trying to one-up each other like that.
Her mood sobered a bit when her eyes fastened on her small bundle of belongings--including the hidden supplements. I can't believe Ogreon had access to REAL technology that could do that. If he managed to bring something like that in, maybe he's working on a way to escape. There's no way whoever put us all in here would have knowingly let something like that in. She gathered up her belongings and made her way back down the stairs to the lower level.
Inside the second door was a machine, like Van had said. After a few moments of trial and error, Ewa managed to get it open. She was pleasantly surprised to find that her clothes really were clean, dry, and wrinkle-free. After taking off her boots and slipping out of the robe, she put on all of her upper garments first. She hadn't felt overly exposed in the robe, but had keenly felt the lack of pockets. She tucked the bandages and supplements away and then finished getting dressed.
Ewa felt sadly underequipped to deal with whatever twisted trials her kidnapper might have in mind. I do have some knives though, and that phaser thing. She figured she might be quick enough with the knives if she could get close and surprise someone, but she was a terrible shot. They'll be good for bluffing if nothing else. Maybe Van or Rathien has something to spare.... she found herself almost smiling again.
-
"AI, then," Zorish says, with an apologetic smile to Al. "I did not mean to offend, of course." He pauses, watching Jasper stutter his way to the restroom with a mildly amused expression.
<<He's very strange,>> Tamora observes.
<<Not so strange,>> Zorish responds. <<Perhaps simply not used to being in the presence of a woman?>>
<<Of a - oh, you mean me?>> Tamora sounds shocked by the very idea, which makes Zorish chuckle.
"Is he always so eloquent?" Zorish asks of the android once Jasper has finally departed. He picks his drink back up and takes a healthy swallow.
-
Larry was impressed when Sami filled the cup and brought it back to him without spilling a single drop. She must have excellent control of her muscles he thought to himself. When she tilted the cup to allow him to drink he was slightly surprised at her action, but drank nonetheless. The cool water helped him regain some energy and he felt that he should try to stand.
Larry leaned back on his heels, causing Grun to hop off his back flap his wings slightly and land on his shoulder. Larry looked over at Grun and spoke softly "I am all right now Grun, you may fly again" At this Grun took off and once again began flying over their heads in a lazy figure eight pattern about thirty feet above them.
Larry moved his right leg forward and planted his foot on the ground and attempted to stand, using his leg as a base. Unfortunately, he had used too much energy in his spell and would not be able to stand on his own. "Sami..." he began and looked at her. It was obvious by the expression on his face that he needed help, but was too proud to actually ask her for it.
-
Sami smiled softly at Larry and took him by the hand. She helped him up, and draped his arm across her shoulder. "I'm taking you back to the bar. Maybe they have somewhere you can lay down for a while..." She slowly started to walk, letting Larry lean against her some so that it would be easier for him to walk too. When they got to the bar, she pushed the door open with her foor and led him inside to a booth in a corner, where he wouldn't be bothered. "Do you think they have some beds around here?" she asked him. He had been here before, or so she assumed. So she thought he would know.
-
Larry was very grateful when she led him inside and to a booth where they both sat. When she asked about a bed he said "I'm notentirely sure. I didn't see much of this place the first time I got here." Hoping that Sami would not mind Larry gently laid his head partially on her shoulder. He made sure to keep the contact light in case she objected and he could say it was an accident.
"The first time I arrived here I had just slayed Diablo and was very injured. I summoned a portal and for some odd reason it led me here. I came upon this building and a few people helped to heal me. I was transported to a strange ship where I met Catie. After her friends healed me we came back to the bar. I went back through my portal to retrieve my staff and armor. When I came back through I met you."
Larry's breathing had returned to normal and it was apparent he had regained his energy, but he was reluctant to move his head from Sami's shoulder.
-
Sami frowned and nodded. "Oh. Well, I can go see if you want me to." She had felt him rest his head against her, and she moved a bit closer so that his head was actually resting on her. She didn't want him to be uncomfortable when he was so weak. Plus, she didn't really object to his touch.
-
When Sami moved closer to allow Larry to fully rest his shoulder on her shoulder a small thrill went through him. She was not objecting his touch and was even encouraging it. "That's all right, Sami. I'm feeling much better now" Larry knew that she had appreciated his attraction to her, but she had not exactly voiced those same feelings for him.
Larry put his hand near Sami's on the table and began gently and slowly caressing her fingers. "So what were you doing before you woke up here?" Larry asked her in his soft tone of voice as he continued to lay his head on her shoulder.
-
Sami's hand tingled as Larry caressed it. She smiled softly, liking the tingly feeling. She pulled her hand out and rested it on his. "The alst thing I remember doing was falling asleep. I had just climbed into my hammock and closed it around me. I remember the sensation of falling asleep as well. But that is all..." She sighed and squeezed his hand lightly before pulling hers away to put both onto her lap, under her new cloak.
-
Larry enjoyed it when Sami rested her hand in his and squeezed it, but was slightly confused as to why she put her hands in her lap. He decided not to question her about it, although he did want to know about her muscle control that she had demonstrated with the cup of water.
"How were able to get that cup of water without spilling a single drop? It was an impressive display of muscle control." Larry said thoughtfully while his head still rested on Sami's shoulder.
-
Terenia doesn't particularly want to slip back into control, but this Illim person seems intent on dragging this entire process out. Heaving an internal sigh, she seizes Mike's motor functions back none too gracefully and shoots a sideways glare in Illim's direction.
<<We don't have any questions,>> she scowls, sending him a private thought-speak message. <<I just want the dapsen gone. Anything he tells us will be a lie anyways.>>
"Yeah, whatever, fine," Terenia snaps aloud to Salem. She takes a step down the ramp and hands over the container of Malleon, retreating away from Salem as quickly as possible, as though mere proximity to him may be infectious. "There, you have your bloody pets back," she says when she has returned to the top of the ramp. "We're done here."
Efaen watches the exchange silently, but once the Malleon have exchanged hands she takes a step forward, her crossed arms falling to her side as she inspects the face of who she thinks is Corliss.
<If your business with this human is complete then I demand access to your communications,> she says. <My Prince needs to speak with your leader.>
<<Great,>> Terenia grumbles to Mike. <<What do I do about her?>>
-
<<I don't get this girl. For someone with no power she's quite bossy, and when she does get ahold of something she can use for leverage, she just gives it away? I'm beginning to think she's not very smart.>> Derrel said.
-
Rathien certainly was making himself rather attractive, and rather... vulnerable. Van delighted in the moment, precisely because of the number of exciting possibilities there were. First, there was the desire to take Rathien for himself, and enjoy a new male partner. To prove that Van certainly was 'accomplished', in one manner. But at the same time, in leaning back like that, Rathien had practically invited himself to be killed. Van wasn't sure which he wanted to do more, although to kill him now was just slightly less appealing.
Instead, he would lull the Hunter into thinking all Van wanted was his attention. That all his passes at Ewa were just a game, a way of inciting Rathien's dangerous prey-drive. In bringing Rathien close, would it be easier to kill him? Van figured, But of course it would!
It was how had he killed others before, in fact. Prostituting himself to rich Oligarchs and their associates tended to end in their untimely deaths. But this was a finer line, and a more exciting one, at that! Rathien was not only somebody he wanted out of the way; the Hunter was also something he desired for himself.
Van squeezed Rathien's hand and wrapped his other arm around the elf-like man's chest. He felt Rathien's body heat, a tingling mix between delightfully warm, and as cold as his ruthless demeanor.
"Mmm, would it be easier from the behind," Van uttered, "Yourself? The undressing, of course."
He snickered and pulled back to give Rathien some room. Still fully-dressed, there was some measure of ridiculousness to be had in the situation. Yet, Van was eager...
-
"Which planet is that?" Serid asks quietly, watching Jocun with narrowed eyes, willing him not to say the planet on which he had been born.
Their conversation, however, is interrupted by the approach of a stranger to their table. And a stranger he is, indeed--an entirely alien creature to him. "Greetings," he murmurs with a respectful nod. "I am Serid," he adds, not revealing his new title or full name. Despite Jocun having already somehow guessed his species, he does not want to give him the satisfaction of confirming it. One simply cannot trust Yeerks.
Illim gives Terenia an irritated glare. "Yeah, way to ruin our opportunity," he mutters, wandering back into the ship, privately agreeing with Derrel. "So much for your negotiation abilities." He slouches into the copilot seat, watching Efaen out the open hatch with narrow eyes.
<<Maybe she's right,>> he sighs to his host. <<Maybe we should just get going. Wait much longer and that Myitt will've forgotten me.>>
-
<<Sooner we blast off, the better.>> Derrel said. <<I thought Efaen was about to leave, but it seems she really does want to come with us. Poor girl. What is going on with her home life that would make her want to be with a species she hates more than that? She doesn't strike me as a sickly homeless girl that doesn't have anything to go back to.>>
"The Human Homeworld, otherwise known as Earth. You may have guessed that from my host, but actually most high ranking controllers are given Human hosts instead of the more impressive ones. Those are put on the field instead of stuck behind desks." Jocun said. "Please stop with that look. It's kind of uncomfortable being glared at like I've done something wrong."
-
Sami chuckled softly at Larry. "On my planet, one must walk silently and gracefully in order to avoid being killed. My village is not in the forest, unlike many of our more.... savage inhabitants. Most live in the new cities. But my village is in a low valley in the mountains. Surrounded by woodland. And the scarier beasts live in the denser areas. The beast you say me shift into - that is the only kind we have been able to tame from the woods. They are not our pets, but they help us. They keep us safe, watching our herds and our people. But sometimes things can slip past even them. So we must tread lightly through our world, or else we will be caught."
-
"It seems that there is always danger no matter where you live" Larry said thoughtfully as his head continued to rest on Sami's shoulder. It was quite obvious that his breathing had returned to normal and he was no longer sweating and therefore did not need to rest his head any longer. However he was very reluctant to remove it, but he did begin to gently rock his head so that it seemed as if he was nuzzling Sami's neck.
"Do you have family back home?" Larry asked in a slightly worried tone, as if he was fearing the answer.
-
Sami smiled softly. She liked the feel of him nuzzling her. "Yes. A mother and father, and my younger brother. Oh, I hope he is all right... He has a tendency to get into huge trouble when I am not around. It really worries me, so I don't leave him along too often. And I don't even know how long I have been away..." She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her head back. "I really wish I was home right now. Just to make sure he was all right."
-
Larry was reluctant to tell Sami what he had found out, but he knew that she needed to know the truth. He sat up and looked in her beautiful green eyes with his mismatched blue right eye and green left eye, both of which were full of sadness right now.
"Sami I really hate to say this, but I could not detect any sort of disturbance in the area. I honestly don't think you can return to your home. I am so sorry." Larry said in a tone that made it apparent he was being sincere and wished his news was different.
-
Sami stilled at his words. Her eyes were still closed. And her breathing slowed. A single tear rolled down her cheek before she hung her head. She sniffled very softly. "I figured that much. But thanks anyway, Larry." She looked up at him, her eyes watering a bit, and smiled softly. Then she hugged him. She layed her head against his shoulder and did her best not to cry, but a few tears got loose. Sami closed her eyes tight and squeezed Larry>
-
Larry was mildly taken aback at her hugging him, but quickly reciprocated by hugging her back. When she squeezed him he knew that she was probably trying not to cry, but was most likely not succeeding. He began to rub her back gently, yet firmly to let her know that she could cry if she wanted.
"I wish I had different news Sami, I truly do hate to see you like this." Larry said in a tone that sounded like his heart was breaking while saying that. Larry continued hugging her and rubbing her back while whispering "I'm sorry" in her ear.
-
~Ossanlin~
<Greetings Vogefac, pleasured to be sure. It seems you have a pre-existing relationship with my Warrior here.> Ossanlin takes another sip of mint-water as he listens to the conversation between the strange Imperial and this newcomer.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __________
~Rathien~
Rathien smirks sidewise and turns to face Van, flicking a knife into his right hand. He walks slowly up to the pirate, still smirking. "You seem to think I'll take orders...it will be much more difficult than that if you want to take me."
He closes the distance and brings the knife to Van's cheek, caressing it with the flat of the blade, drawing it soft as silk over steel down to the pirate's shirt. "Such fine clothing, it would be a waste to allow a wolf's claw to shred it to bits." Still smirking at Van he hooks his knife into the pirate's shirt a bit as if to cut it away, but doesn't do so immediately.
-
<<Bloody hell, can't we have a moment's peace to escape this place?>> Mike wonders aloud. <<Reven won't be pleased about being bothered again, but I know Ossanlin would only request a transmission if it were important. Tell her Ossanlin needs to come here and talk to Reven himself.>>
-
<<Yeah, okay,>> Terenia says, her frustration clear. <<I wish we could just shoot her and leave her behind.>>
"Efaen," she says aloud, clearing Mike's throat. "We'll put a transmission through to our leader after Ossanlin makes an appearance. Get him here first."
At the order, Efaen's main eyes narrow slightly. It is quite clear from her posture that she dislikes taking demands from the Yeerk, but after a pause she lets one hand trail to her holster and pull out her comm link. It takes her a moment to select the signal that belongs to her Prince and send a hail.
-
Sami nodded against his shoulder, rubbing her tears away. She sat up again, fully composed. "It is fine, Larry. I figured there would be nothing there." She sighed and sat back again, rubbing her nose for a minute or two. Then she got up and asked the bartender for two apples and two glasses of water. He grumbled slightly, but gave her what she asked for. She returned with the water and apples. "Here. Eat. Drink. You need to get your energy up." She passed him a glass of water and an apple, taking a bit frim her own.
-
Larry watched Sami as she went to the bar and got two glasses of water and a plate of apples. She brought them back saying he should eat and drink to get his energy up. Larry smiled slightly and said "Thank you" and proceeded to quickly drain half of his glass of water and eat half of an apple in less than a minute. Larry got a worried look on his face as he asked "So what will you do now Sami?" in a somber tone.
-
Sami munched on her apple slowly, taking small bites. She sighed and shook her head. "I don't know, Larry. I'm hoping maybe someone here can help me. I heard someone earlier talking about an android. But I don't know who that was or where they are." SHe took another small bite of her apple, then a sip of her drink. Her tan and green skin had paled somewhat, and she was looking about the room. Her green eyes were dark with sadness.
-
Larry was unsure what an android was as Tyrael had not mentioned that species. However upon thinking of Tyrael he was struck with an idea, but was unsure how to ask Sami because of her disbelief in magic. He decided to ask her anyway realizing that after his display earlier she would be open to his suggestion.
"Sami, I believe I know someone who may be able to help you. My mentor, the Archangel Tyrael, has assisted me in the past and he be able to assist you as well. Although in order to see him we would have to go to the land of Sanctuary, my homeland. I will understand if you do not wish to go there though." Larry said in a sincere tone of voice.
-
Catie walked out in front of several ships. Then she found one that was very interesting. It looked like some sort of rock mass...
"I wonder if Ewa and Van are still even here...", Catie said to no one.
The only person she knew here had all but abandoned her. She could take care of herself but...she just didn't know what to do! She was alone in a place shed never been to before while most of her career was spent in sickbay, on a ship, with the very familiar medical staff...now she was hanging around a run-down shack on a meteorite with no one she knew...
-
Rathien turned, and smirked. The two men stood at almost the same height, both of them tall, slender, and beautiful. And, Rathien was certainly highly self-assured, for it became clear to Van that both men were used to, and fond of, the dominant role.
The Hunter drew his knife, yet, Van hardly reacted. His adrenaline smoothed any semblance of fear into an odd complacency, as if not moving would remove the threat. The knife was clearly dangerous, just a bit larger than Ewa's weapons, and it was terribly apparent that it was made for killing. Yet, that fact hardly bothered the Pirate. Both men were in an odd stalemate, perhaps, and the thought of killing one another now was likely far from ideal.
The elfish Hunter supported Van's guess, and stated that more would have to be done to make him submit. Van made a small, sly smile, for had he been in Rathien's position, he easily would have said the same thing. The Hunter still held his knife, and then gracefully moved the weapon closer, though Van still felt strangely unafraid.
The Hunter gently caressed Van's cheek with the flat of his blade, and the Pirate briefly closed his eyes as the cold metal gracefully traced the angles of his face. It was an odd, sensual, dangerous feeling, and Van licked his lips in anticipation, as the weapon found its way downward. It wound along his neck, to the collar of his shirt, then finally, it rested at his chest, just a few inches above Van's heart.
Though Rathien admired his clothing, it was clear what his intent was. The Hunter lightly hooked the weapon into Van's shirt, and the shock of cold metal radiated against his undershirt. Van reflexively reached out, and gently grasped Rathien's wrist.
He glanced up again into Rathien's eyes, and said playfully, "The fine clothes, yes, chaasi. Yet these are the rather-old, Wolf."
Van grinned, and affirmed, "Do you not know? No wolf would think twice about the clothes of prey. Shred them, if you must! In turn, I shall proceed in..."
The Pirate grasped Rathien's wrist with both hands, and pressed his fingers under the Hunter's vambrace, "...Perhaps skinning the Wolf, in response. I am no small prize, either."
-
Sami frowned and a hand drew forth from under her cloak. Her skin wasn't pale anymore as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Her green eyes were still dark, but not with sadness. Just a bit of fear, but also a bit of respect. "Larry, when I told you my people hated magic, I lied. My people are a race of magic, hence our abilities. But I myself am not a female of magic. I respect it, only because I do recognize that it can hurt me. The only forms of magic I use are my shifting and the ability to enhance my senses. I am willing to try this, but if it fails, do not be surprised if I am not saddened." She scratched at the wound on her head, but did so carefully. She didn't want to re-open it.
-
When Sami said that her people were a magic race, Larry was slightly confused. However after listening to her further he understood completely and was even more conviced that Tyrael would and could help her. "When would you like to leave, Sami?" Larry asked in his soft tone of voice.
-
~The Polkaris~
Ewa took the robe back to the bathing room. Maybe she should have put it in the washing machine, but she hadn't really gotten it dirty and she didn't want to accidentally break anything by pushing too many buttons. She still had the vial of Vivalite, tucked into one of her numerous pockets. Probably ought to give that back to Van in person, she thought.
After she had reascended the stairs though, Ewa paused in indecision. I haven't really left them alone for all that long if they really did decide to "get along". Maybe I ought to give them some more time. At least it doesn't sound like they're trying to kill each other. Still, if I wait too long they might not be nearly as much fun to look in on.... surely those two are not going to finish so quickly though. That would be horribly disappointing.
She bit the inside of her lip while her eyes wandered over the room. Sitting out here and waiting would be so much more boring. Just then, a stray breeze caught a couple strands of her hair that had come loose and tickled them across her face. She tucked them back behind her ear and noticed that the air seemed to come from where she and Van had entered the ship. Surely Van didn't... She walked over to the ramp and down a ways, until outside became visible. Yes, yes he did. Van left the ship open. Guess Rathien didn't really have to work to sneak on board, did he.
Ewa looked around the frame for some kind of obvious red button to press. Although just as often those seem to be "self-destruct" or "depressurize" or anything else that you definitely don't want to press. You'd think people would have learned better at some point. She moved down the ramp and outside the ship, still looking. You'd really think Van would be more paranoid about security with the whole "pirate" identity.
-
Sami frowned. "I wanted to get to know some of these people here. There are so many races and such. But whenever you feel up to it, I guess we can go." She took another bite of her apple and munched on it thoughtfully. Her green eyes scanned the bar, looking for interesting people.
-
Larry realized that perhaps he was pushing her too fast and decided to back off. "I do not mean to rush you Sami. If you wish to talk to these beings by all means do so. If you wish to go find Catie again then by all means lets. I will follow your lead Sami. I do not wish to hurry you along." Larry said in a sincere tone.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin looks away from Vogefac as his communicator sends a thought-speech indication with Efaen's signal. He sighs and pulls the transponder from his harness, activating it. <Success already, Warrior?>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __________
~Rathien~
Rathien arches an eyebrow. Viran had always shown such concern for his clothing...the one and only time Rathien had ripped open one of his shirts, the Hegemon had almost had a seizure...obviously this pirate was different.
Without so much as a shrug, Rathien bares his fangs in a bit of a snarl and twists the knife, drawing it down, dragging the pirate's hands' along with his wrist movement, the razor's edge of his blade sliding through the lacy, silky fabric of Van's outer clothing easier than a hot knife through butter. With one smooth, deliberate arm-movement, the front of Van's outer clothing hangs open, cut fine by the honed edge of Rathien's blade. Rathien licks over his fangs as the tip of his blade now rests at the top of Van's pants, a soft and deadly caress.
"Ah, but I am not yet truly the wolf. I bear his resemblance and demeanor, but his mind has not yet completely taken me...though it soon will. Such courtesies will not exist when the wolf is truly unmuzzled." Rathien growls deep in his throat, his chest rumbling as he moves his free hand inside of Van's outer clothing, fingers dragging claw-like nails across the pirate's undershirt.
-
<The Yeerk called Corliss has agreed to contact his leader upon your presence,> Efaen says into the communicator when her Prince picks up. She does not take her main eyes off of Mike and Terenia as she speaks. <I am located just outside the Yeerks vessel.>
"And tell him to hurry," Terenia scowls in Mike's voice. "We kind of want to actually leave this rock sometime this year."
Efaen's main eyes narrow slightly, but she relays the message. <They would prefer it if you arrived quickly, my Prince.>
-
Claxter overheard the communication, and wanted to ask if he could join Ossanlin in the conversation, but would probably be denied. He might do something he shouldn't, and the skimmer would be crowded with an extra Andalite on board.
Jocun was curious about what the communication was about, but didn't want to be nosy. What were the chances Ossanlin would let him tag along?
-
|VOGEFAC
"Yes indeed, Prince Ossanlin, me and your warrior saved the whole meteorite together.", Vogefac said.
Then, he turned away. Vogefac heard a noise he assumed was a communicator, so he wasn't offended.
"Claxter...I am not sure where Artemis is. she disappeared. Me and Thor attempted to retrieve her, but the invisible force that grabbed her was gone before we could get to it..."
Vogefac's head hung in shame.
|CATIE
Catie was wandering around the ship, when she noticed the hatch was open. She approached it...and someone walked out.
"Oh, excuse me. I hate to bother you, but do you know the location of a certain Van or Ewa?", she waited expectantly for an answer.
-
Sami smiled softly and nodded to Larry, really only giving that as her indication. But she relaxed a bit. She did not like talking about magic. It irked her so. She preferred science, where everything could be explained. Her eyes continued to scan the bar, but she couldn't really find anyone of interest. Yet. She was determined to try to find that android, at the very least. Or maybe someone else with abilities like hers.
-
Al smiled concernedly at Jasper as he thwacked his head on the underside of the table. "You alright?" he called after him as he walked towards the back hallway.
He turned to Zorish, "No offense taken. It's just that in a surprisingly high number of languages from around the cosmos, the words for "AI" and the name "Al" share some superficial similarities. I've always been a sucker for a bad pun." Zorish asked whether Jasper was always 'so eloquent.' Al smiled, "I haven't known him long, so I'm not sure if he's just out of his element here or what. He's not always the smoothest guy, it's true, but I like him a lot. Nice, smart dude, that one."
"So," he rested his chin in his hands and his elbows on the table and fixed Zorish with a smile that was somehow at once a melodramatic facsimile of intense interest, and totally sincere. "I've been meaning to ask someone around here; what is it Yeerks do for fun?"
Salem reached out and grabbed the container from who he still thought was Corliss. "Thanks," he muttered. He turned to Illim to say something about how he'd return to discuss things with him, but the Yeerk said something about 'ruining our opportunity' and stormed into the ship. Salem raised his eyebrows as he watched Derrel's form retreat inside. Had Illim been planning to hold the Malleon hostage, then? Salem found himself wondering if maybe Illim wasn't the mastermind behind this little group he was growing to dislike so much after all.
He turned and walked back to his ship. If Illim wanted to find him, he could do so on his own time. As he passed Efaen, he smiled and gave her a slight nod.
He walked back up the ramp to his ship and to the workbench-like raised platform near the middle of the room. He set the container on it, fed the 'tube' into a hole that'd appeared in the bench, and said aloud, "Alright, you guys can transfer back into the ship now." The clear 'jar' began to empty of the greenish-grey substance that had accumulated within, but Salem didn't stay to watch. He turned to the wall and began pulling up displays with thought-spoken commands to the ship. A number of different displays spread out across the wall in front of him. Most of the displays summarized what the ship's computer had recorded recently- movement of the bar's patrons, transmissions sent within the vicinity. He spent a particularly long amount of time looking at the display that showed how analysis of the rebels' communications was coming along. It wasn't looking promising so far, but with enough time, it looked like he had enough information to be able to contact them even without the help of Corliss and Illim.
As he looked at the screens, he spoke, "Hey, Mar. That took a bit longer than I expected. If you're ready for a... flying lesson, I've definitely got time now." He smirked as he said 'flying lesson.' It was not something he ever expected to hear himself asking for, especially in the sense he meant it now.
-
Sami frowned as she closed her eyes and tilted her head. She thought she just heard a patron say something about AI. She had heard the same acronym used on her planet once, when traders had visited her village and spoke of the big cities. They spoke of AIs, or Artificial Intelligences, being used in the cities for everything. Android was another name for these, 'beings', that were built to take care of th citizens. Sami concentrated her hearing to pinpoint the voice, and son found it. It seemed to be coming from inside the bar. She pinpointed the patron and opened her eyes to look. She still couldn't see very well in the bars gloom, but she turned to Larry, a hand nd finger outstretched. "Larry, there is an android over there. I've always wanted to see one." She smiled at him, pointing at the android.
-
Larry followed the direction of where she was pointing. He could see quite well in the gloom and could swear the person she was pointing at looked familiar, but he couldn't place his face. However an instant later the memory came back rushing back to his mind. When he had first walked through the door after his battle with Diablo that man had been one of the two humans that helped him.
"Very well, I need to thank him as well for his assistance." Larry said with a smile as he stood and offered his arm to escort Sami to the human.
-
Sami frowned, but got up as well and looped her arm through his. "Assistance with what, if you don't mind my asking." She was curious as to how he knew this man, or android. She was really hoping he/it was an android, not just someone talking about one. Although, if they knew enough about AIs, she would still gladly talk to him.
-
<She's a good person. Hopefully she'll be ok. Though if she hasn't contacted you in a decade in your universe, is there any way to know how fast time passes where she was last seen?>
-
Ewa spun around, startled. Damn, I'm blind. Her eyes quickly took in the source of the voice and she smiled self-consciously at the young woman. "Sorry about that. I wasn't paying attention the way I should have. Van and Ewa?" she asked. Why would someone I've never met be looking for me as well? "I think I could track Van down for you, if it's important." Ewa looked at the blond expectantly, her expression quietly friendly and open.
-
Keshin wandered almost idly into the Bar, wondering dimly if he hadn't been away long enough. At his own estimation it had been about two weeks since he'd been to the Bar, but the Bar had a way of distorting time. For all he knew, he might have just left. <I can't quite figure out why I'm coming back. Maybe I'm just that desperate for work. What I asked Corliss for wasn't nearly enough. >
<It's gettin' worse. We need more an' more to keep runnin' the bounties.>
<I know, I know. We can figure this out.>
The Bar's crowd appears to have changed. For one thing, he didn't see so many...pretty people last time he was here. The usual Space Bar gang is oily, unwashed, and unpleasant. Whoever these new people were, they looked like they had come out of a gay bar in Brooklyn. Or at least, that's what Joanne would say.
Keshin sidled up to one of the bar stools and glanced at the typically neutral expression of the bartender. "Nice to see you too," muttered Keshin with a roll of Joanne's eyes. "Grape juice."
****************************************************************************************
Mar opened his vivid green eyes and glanced irritably at the entering Salem. The man had taken almost an hour to get back, wasting the Highest's time and attention span. Whatever he was able to gain from Salem's trade and from Salem himself had better be well worth the wait.
"Is there some reason you took so long?" muttered Mar. "Although this incarnation is not busy, I am a creature that does not like to be ignored. Some of you mortals may have heard of that. Do you have any other pressing problems I should know about before we begin?"
-
"Hi there." Jocun said at the new entrant who had come to sit at a stool near him. "I'm Jocun. Welcome to the Space Bar."
-
Larry began slowly walking towards the man that had been one of the humans to attend to him. He recognized the clothing which looked to be that of perhaps a Royal and that meant the he was to be greatly revered. "When I first came to this place I was greatly injured from a battle. That man was one of the humans that assisted in helping me before Ogreon took me onto his ship. That is where I met Catie."
Larry and Sami arrived at the bar beside the male in formal clothes. Larry held his hands in front of his chest and formed a triangle with his fingers. "Greetings to you, your Highness. May I please extend gratitude for assisting in healing me earlier this day?" Larry said in a respectful tone while bowing at the waist towards this man.
-
Sami frowned and nodded, watching Larry. When she saw his gesture and heard the words he spoke, her eyes narrowed just a touch. She had never really liked the rich and spoiled, and royalty was pretty much the same. On her world, he would probably be one of the richest males, dominant over almost everything, with all the females at his fingertips. He would most likely live in the city, which gave her a little bit of interest in him. If he was worthy enough to live in one of the cities on her world, then he would know about technology. But for now, she wasn't sure how intelligent he was, and wasn't going to give him too too much attention until she knew.
-
Al smiled when he saw Keshin walk into the bar and sit down. This one looked like the Keshin he'd spent some time talking to. He grinned and waved, "Hey!"
He turned when somebody addressed him as "your Highness." It was the man who'd come into the bar injured not long ago, and had helped to clean up the lady now standing at his side. Might as well have a little fun with this. He laughed slightly and put on a ludicrous impression of royalty.
"But of course, lad. What are We if not a servant of the people? We are glad to see you seem to be healing so well. Those scars, however... might We ask how you obtained them? And as long as we're on the subject of questions," he grinned and winked at Sami, "We are known as Al." He held out his hand, as if to be kissed, and stared off into space with a solemn expression, "We don't believe We've yet been formally introduced to yourself and the lady."
Salem shook his head and smiled, "No problems unless the hunter that's tracked me to the bar decides to try to kill me while we do this. I'm sorry for making you wait so long, Mar. Dealing with those awful rebels never seems to go smoothly. I'd offer to make it up to you, but..." He hesitated and took a breath, trying to figure out how to phrase what he was trying to say. "But aside from maybe some knowledge of the immortals from my home universe, I'm not sure what I could offer someone like you that you'd find worthwhile."
He tilted his head and leaned back against the workbench as he looked at Mar, "If you think of something small you'd like to make up for it, let me know. In the meantime, I'm all yours."
-
Sami's eyes narrowed more and more as he milked his "royalty". Then he held o his hand, expecting something from her. She didn't know though. But she watched him carefully. "Al? Would you happen to be the one who was talking about AIs earlier?" She raised an eyebrow at him, making sure her cloak was covering everything and that he couldn't see she was naked underneath.
-
Larry was slightly confused at his demeanor, for it did not sound the way that Lord Jerhyn would speak and act. This type of behavior reminded him of Gheed, from the Rogue Encampment. It also seemed that Sami did not truly believe that this 'Al' was royalty either. Larry stood to his maximum height and muttered to Sami in a tone that only she would hear "Are your enhanced senses detecting a lie in his demeanor?"
-
"I can tell that this is not how he normally acts. Other than that, I have nothing." she spoke quietly to Larry, before redirecting to Al. "As I said, are you the one whom was talking about AIs earlier? I am very curious to hear about them."
-
Al laughed and bowed slightly in Larry's direction with a flourish- impressive, considering he was sitting down at the time. "Your powers or perception are second to none, sir. The 'lie in my demeanor' your enhanced senses detect is, in fact, that I'm not royalty. I don't know how you caught on so quickly. I thought I was very convincing." He winked at Zorish, then turned to Sami with a grin, "Yeah, I've been talking about AI's a little bit today. I don't claim to be any kind of expert or anything, but I know a bit about 'em."
He grinned, "So, there a reason you can't tell me your names? You on a special mission? Are you secret agents? You're secret agents, aren't you? No, don't tell me. You'd have to kill me, and nobody'd want that." He turned back to Zorish and waved in the direction of Sami and Larry, "Aren't they the cutest couple of secret agents you've ever seen?"
-
Sami started to smile a bit once the man dropped his facade. He was actually a bit charming. In an odd way. She laughed very very softly and shook her head. "Not secret agents, I am sorry. Just..... lost here. Trying to find a way home. At least, I am. My name is Sami." She held out her hand to the man. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
-
Larry's eyes narrowed and his lip curled up in a snarl. This being named Al may have helped him in Larry's time of need and thus was deserving of gratitude. However the fact that this being was able to hear him when he had muttered to Sami was very unnerving. Larry was sure that Sami would be the only one that heard him which meant that this being obviously had enhanced senses. Larry was unsure if he should trust this man anymore, but Sami clearly wanted to talk to Al.
Larry was unsure what a 'secret agent' was and did not appreciate the way that Al was accusing both of them being one. How ever Sami's reaction confused him greatly. She did not seem to care about the false accusation or even notice the fact that he had heard them when he shouldn't have. Larry quickly turned his back to Al and leaned in close to Sami's ear.
"Are you sure we can trust him? He has falsely accused of being secret agent, whatever those are. He was also able to hear us when quite clearly we were speaking soft enough that he shouldn't have been able to. Something is not right here, is it?" Larry spoke barely above a whisper this time. If Al did hear him speak then it would prove what he suspected and Larry wasn't sure if he had the energy for a fight right now.
-
Sami leaned into Larry a bit after he turned so she could hear what he was saying. She sighed and turned to face his side so she could better talk into his ear. "He hasn't done anything to harm us yet. I may notlook it, but I can handle my own in a fight. And I know you can, although you did jsut expel alot of energy..." she whispered back to him. She turned again to Al. "How is it that you could hear us a minute ago when we were talking privately? Even my sensitive ears had a hard time understanding him."
-
A large smile spread across Caties face.
"Great! I have a message from the captain of my ship."
She walked up the ramp to follow the other girl.
-
A few of the nerves along Ewa's spine tickled in warning. Does she just have a poor sense of boundaries or is she dangerous? Ewa held her left hand up, motioning for the young woman to wait a moment. She smiled with worried apology. "If you would just... ah..." she bit her lip nervously and pinned the blond with a look that begged for understanding. "You see Van's not really... I mean, probably not..." Ewa flushed deep red and had to glance away. "He's a bit intimately involved at the moment." She twisted her hands together awkwardly. "If you could maybe wait here?" she asked hopefully. "And, ah... which ship were you from?"
-
Catie frowned slightly, "Intimately...involv ed?"
There was an awkward pause as Catie pondered the significance of that statement.
"Ok...", Catie said finally, and Ewa asked from which ship she was from, "I'm a medical officer in the medical bay of the U.A.I. Urtahn."
She took two slow steps further down the ramp.
-
"Thank you. I'm really sorry about...." Ewa gestured a bit aimlessly then pushed her hand back through her hair. She sighed, just a little. "I'll be back soon." Ewa moved back up the ramp, inside the ship, and threw a last embarrassed half-smile over her shoulder.
Once out of sight, she slowed-- partly to give herself some time to think and partly to listen for the woman coming after her. I certainly didn't see her in the medical bay of the Urtahn, nor she me. It was a very big ship though. If whoever's in charge of this place realized the kind of technology Ogreon had, that person might send someone to clean up the situation.... If she really is from the Urtahn though, this might be our chance to really work on an escape plan. Whichever the young woman was though, Ewa wanted to have some support going in.
She rounded the corner and headed down the hallway toward the room where she had left Van and Rathien. Maybe he really is "intimately involved", she thought as a small smile worked its way onto her face. She poked her head around the corner and smiled more fully at the tableaux. Van's shirt was shredded. Rathien stood with a knife poised to make quick work of Van's pants while his other hand explored beneath the tattered remains of Van's shirt. Van had encircled Rathien's knife hand with his own and appeared to be challenging the assassin.
"Very nice," Ewa said admiringly as she entered the room, her eyes slowly moving over Van's body. "You could do without a shirt more often." As she approached she turned to look Rathien over as well, but he was still fully dressed. She made a disappointed "hmm" and clicked her tongue. "Not that you don't look lovely with your clothes on." Ewa patted his arm consolingly, then turned back to Van, her manner becoming more serious.
"There's a young woman outside. I didn't see her while we were there, but she claims to be a medical officer from the Urtahn." She looked at him expectantly as she waited for the implications to sink in.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin sighs and waits several seconds before responding. <Efaen, it is your mission to convince Reven of my terms, not mine. Why is my presence required at this point?>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _______
~Rathien~
Rathien doesn't move his knife or his body position, save to glance at Ewa whom had reappeared with some...unsavory...i nformation. Hopefully Van would choose to ignore this person altogether, after all, they were already involved. "I agree, he could indeed."
-
<She's a good person. Hopefully she'll be ok. Though if she hasn't contacted you in a decade in your universe, is there any way to know how fast time passes where she was last seen?>
Vogefac thought of how to explain..., "In a place called the shadow dimension, where Thor apparently lives. She was taken by the Nothing when we were attacked by a horde of Wy'ched-Z'jeyrt...we were occupied by the battle when Artemis was grabbed and flown away."
-
Keshin blinks and smiles upon noticing Al's presence, wandering over in order to see what the AI was doing. He appeared to be caught up with one of the newer groups of people to enter the Space Bar, but Keshin felt as though they owed Salem's friend. <He was responsible for providing the technology that helped us in our hour of need. Does that count as a friend?>
<Would we kill 'im if asked?>
<.........no. Actually, no. Not at least for another six months.>
<Aww.>
Keshin grins at Al and waves slightly. "Hey. Do you know how long it's been since we were last here? The Bar makes that confusing as heck, and we don't want to piss off the rebellion any more than we already have. Come to think of it..." Keshin frowns. "...I haven't been able to even step in here without pissing someone off lately."
************************************************************************************************************
Mar rolls his eyes and once again sits down in the middle of the room, gesturing for Salem to sit down across from him. He had taken to wandering the room idly when the trader left. There was much that was worth stealing in the man's ship, but it would be beneath Mar's dignity to take any of it himself. He'd have to hire someone with less moral scruples to do it for him. Even then, it looked like there were a few odd energy signatures in the place. Maybe it had some kind of onboard security. Problematic.
Mar closes his eyes and lets himself go into the void lying in the back of his mind. He had long since been cutting himself off from the place, fearful both of its terrible emptiness and what had happened to him when he had last tried to access it alone. He had blown a hole in his own side. But he wasn't trying to take energy here...he was instead offering it a taste of someone else. Ah....yesss.
Mar opens his eyes again, revealing...two sets. Both glimmering red. "I think I have limited access," states Mar, his voice layered with something odd and twisted. "I do not know for how long, but...we shall see what we can accomplish in that time. We are...I am...ready when you are."
-
"Fun?" Zorish repeats, raising Tamora's eyebrows. "Sorry to disappoint you, but we're in the middle of a war. There isn't much time for recreation."
He watches as Al easily starts up a conversation with other patrons of the bar, wondering if 'sociability' is a programmable trait as far as androids are concerned. He spoke easily enough to one of the necomers, and put on a strange show for yet another. A small frown dominates her expression as she tries to figure the android out.
"It is generally considered a good idea to keep information to oneself," Zorish says mildly when Al addresses him regarding the couple - one of whom is certainly not a species with which he is familiar.
At that point an unknown human woman wanders up to the table, and Zorish senses a much more profitable conversation when she mentions the rebellion. Smiling at Keshin, he extends a hand.
"Hello," he says pleasantly in Tamora's voice. "I don't believe I've had the occassion of meeting you yet. I am Zorish Three-Five-Eight." For once he restrains from giving his official Imperial rank.
Terenia watches Salem go, relieved to see that one thing has actually been accomplished. <<Now we just have to get Efaen on board,>> she grumbles. <<I'm beginning to wish that I had not asked for her to come along. I need her as a host, and she's clearly not going to let me in that twisted head of hers.>>
<Corliss has indicated that he prefers to contact his brother within your presence,> Efaen says shortly, her thoughts coming out abrupt, revealing her own frustration. He continues to show that he is not capable of his position, she reflects. Vaguely, Efaen wonders if Ossanlin's strange abilities amount to the only reason behind his Captainhood. Sighing, she compresses the button on the comm link.
<If that is not to your satisfaction I will attempt to gain contact without your assistance.> She does not wait for him to answer this time, turning the link off instead. It is borderline insubordination, but she is tired and becoming increasingly aggravated.
<Corliss,> she says to Terenia and Mike. <My Prince may be delayed. I have leave to speak with your leader myself.>
-
<It is bad that I am in no position to help. I can think of nothing else to say.> Claxter said apologetically.
The newcomer had turned her attention to someone else who had spoken to her, so Jocun let her be. He wondered if he might join them at their table, or if it would be intruding. He was still in a conversation with the Human or Andalite, so he stayed. Though the guy hadn't said anything within the past few minutes.
-
Al smiled and shook Sami's hand. "Sami, then. Pleasure's all mine, of course. If you've got to pick a place to be lost, this isn't that bad. At least the food and drink are alright. And the company's not bad." He looked around... "Well, usually... Sometimes."
He watched with a smirk as the man she was with shot him a suspicious look and whispered something into her ear. She asked how he'd overheard their talking. He laughed and shrugged, "You guys are standing right here. It wasn't exactly tricky. Was I not supposed to hear that? I could pretend I didn't." He laughed, "Tell you what, why don't the two of you join us for a drink? My treat. Or... my friend's treat, but he'd be okay with it." He grinned and nodded towards Larry, "So who's he?" he asked Sami. "Bodyguard? Boyfriend? He doesn't bite, does he?" He smiled and winked at Larry, hoping to ease the man's obvious tension with a (bad) joke.
He turned as Keshin sat down, "It's been a while, but even I'm having trouble keeping track of time here. It's weird. I'm glad to see... the real you around here again. I think some of the rebel people are still around here somewhere. Still see 'em from time to time. So, the two of you been living the high life?"
He turned to Zorish and shrugged, "Even soldiers have to unwind once in a while, my friend. All battle all the time can only lead to insanity. I mean bad insanity. Not like me insanity."
Salem hesitated for only a moment, feeling foolish, then shrugged slightly and sat down opposite Mar with his legs crossed. His eyebrows shot up when Mar addressed him. The man's eyes... his voice... that was new. Mar had access to... what, exactly? His heartrate increased a bit.
What am I getting myself into?
He nodded at Mar and managed a smile, "Just tell me what to do."
-
Sami chuckled softly as Al's words. She shook her head. "Just a friend." She patted Larry's arm. "And I would love a drink. But really only a glass of water." Then Al turned and talked to the other two people who were there at the table. Sami politely waited for a pause. "We do not mean to bother you so much, Al. I sure wouldn't wish to intrude on your conversations with others."
-
Larry continued to stand stoically while he watched the exchange between Al and Sami. When Sami asked for a glass of water he chimed in "I would like a glass of water as well." Larry still did not trust this man, even though Al had helped him when he was injured. Larry decided to go ahead and question him anyway.
"Why did you feel it necessary to impersonate royalty? I assumed by your garish clothing that you were, but you should have enough honor to not lie and correct my mistake. Unless you are nothing more than an opportunistic swindler." Larry said as his eyes narrowed suspiciously at Al.
-
Al smiled at Sami, "No bother at all. The more the merrier. If you want to talk about AI's, you happen to be in the right place." He shrugged and grinned, "Turns out I am one."
He called to the bartender for two clean glasses of water, then turned to the man. He chuckled a bit, "I'm sorry, sir. Where I'm from, that could be seen as a joke. I figured you wouldn't believe I was real royalty once I started speaking." He shrugged and laughed, "That was, after all, a pretty awful impression. I could do better than that." He reached behind his back, and his hologram generated what appeared to be a large gold crown with inset diamonds and emeralds. From Sami and Larry's perspective, it would have looked as though he simply pulled a crown from behind his back, which he then set on his head.
He tilted his head and smiled at the man while wearing the crown, "I didn't mean to offend, of course. All in good fun. Are you sure I can't buy you a drink to make up for it?" He pulled the crown back off of his head, stuck it behind his back, and caused it to disappear before folding his hands back on the table. "Maybe a mug of ale? House wine? I wonder if the wine here's any good..." He looked over towards the bar, trying to get a look at the drink selection.
-
Larry watched as he put on the crown and was even more insulted. While this may seem like a joke to this man it was an atrocious crime where he was from and this man seemingly did not care. He in fact offered a drink as if that would make up for his crime, but Larry quickly realized that he could do nothing. He did not have the energy to fight and did not want to endanger Sami while she was healing.
He decided to sit at a nearby table and pulled a chair close to him where Sami could sit if she chose to. "Water will be fine Al" he said in that cold tone of voice that made it a wonder his breath didn't fog. "You should know that where I come from the punishment for impersonating a royal is to be quartered." Larry continued in his cold tone of voice.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin raises an eyebrow as Efaen ends the transmission without waiting for a response, and then chuckles to himself. She truly isn't deserving of rank Warrior after all...but then what could one expect, the poor female had been captive of one very disturbed human-Yeerk nothlit for years.
Ossanlin sighs as he finishes his mint water and nods to Claxter and Serid with a glance at Jocun, before turning and trotting out the door. He moves toward the Skimmer at a stately pace exuding confidence. He is not particularly fond of any of the individuals that would be involved with this exchange...aloof indifference seems proper.
-
Illim sighs, giving an external nod in response to Derrel's comment. <<I shouldn't have stalked off like that,>> he murmurs to his host, unfolding his arms and sitting up somewhat straighter in the copilot seat. <<But really, if I'd known Terenia and Mike wouldn't have felt comfortable negotiating, I'd have done it.>> He smirks. <<I'm okay with being the bad guy, you know.>>
When Efaen announces that she wishes to speak with Reven anyway, he leans to the side to get a better vantage point around Mike. <<Maybe you'll have an opportunity to talk to the leader before we go, after all,>> he tells Derrel.
Serid continues to give Jocun a deadpan expression, even as Ossanlin leaves, although it is only partially because of his discomfort with the conversation. Despite having been a nothlit for years, he has never truly mastered human facial expressions.
"If you would not brag so, perhaps I would not watch you so sourly," Serid remarks, and then gives a shrug of his shoulders -- a gesture he has picked up. "I have not yet confirmed your supposition as to my species, but you certainly know my loyalties." He glances at the spot where Ossanlin has been to reinforce. "You may have done nothing wrong, but you can imagine why I am not pleased to hear about the reality in which you live."
-
"I'm sorry if it seems I've been bragging. I'm not trying to rub it in, though obviously I am content about how things turned out." Jocun said. "I have no doubt that had the Andalites won, our entire species would have been destroyed for the sins of the few, and the whole war would be swept under the metaphorical rug as quickly as possible to hide the Andalite's shame. "
<<Maybe.>> Derrel said hopefully. <<You probably should have been the one to try to get something out of Salem. Terenia's in a huge hurry to get to the rebel base, yet she doesn't want to spend much time swimming in a container. Do you think they're going to take turns with Mike once they reach the base?>>
-
Sami giggled at Al's display. She couldn't believe she had just met an AI! It was amazing! He must have had some sort of cloaking device that made him look this way. That, or maybe whomever had created him had made him to look just like tham, not like some piece of technology. She stood there quietly thinking all of this throughout Larry and Al's exchange, then blinked back into reality when Larry pulled up a chair. She smiled and pulled one up next to him, disturbed by his tone. "Larry, he is from a different world. You must respect that. I mean, after all, you seem to respect me even though I do not particularly like magic." she said to him as their waters were brought over to them. She smiled at the bartender, who just grunted at her and left. She sipped from her glass, watching Larry and Al.
-
Larry looked at Sami as she said that he should respect Al because he was a different world and the fact that he respected her even though she didn't like magic. "You are correct Sami, my apologies" he said in his soft tone of voice. Larry then turned to regard Al and said "I apologize to you as well Al." and then bowed slightly in his seat.
Larry took a drink of water and then decided to ask Al something. "If I may ask what is this 'android' that you speak of?" Larry asked in a soft tone of voice.
-
Keshin shakes his head with a slight smirk at Al. "Oh, don't be ridiculous," he mutters. "We get a lot of money from running jobs, but pretty much eighty percent of that is spent on the medicine. It's prototype stuff---designed to cure human heart diseases and respiratory problems. The Empire's just started manufacturing things like that for humans, which means it's...well..." Keshin groans, putting a hand to his forehead. "....really damn expensive. The dapsen moneygrubbers."
Keshin then turns his head oddly to...wait, his old dead client?! Her countenance and mannerisms were decidedly not rebel, and her clothes were straight Imperial. Could this possibly be....but...Keshin shakes his head back and forth. "Whoah whoah whoah. I don't know what bizarre time skip brought you here, but we are not trying to off your sister again. Not happening. That almost got us killed. For some reason. We had no clue the chick had so many friends."
************************************************************************************
Mar nods carefully and then states, "I want you to close your eyes, Salem. What I'm going to do is extend a tendril into your range, allowing you access to my ability to see them. You see..." Mar chuckles. "....mortal creatures only see the shapes and objects around them, the colorful and bright things. But if they were instead to focus on the empty space surrounding each object, they would find it just as useful."
Mar grins a bit. "....in a way, I have tricked all of you. I only appear to be flying. What you are actually seeing is a large number of invisible tendrils holding me in place and passing me between them. Now keep in mind...just because it's easy to do doesn't mean it will look...impressive at first. Most first-time Dark magic users look ridiculous doing it without a grasp of how the...puppetry works."
-
To Van, Rathien certainly played the part of a wolf, no matter what he said of it. True, most nobles cared more about the state of their clothes than the Pirate did, but perhaps that was precisely because he was a pirate. That, and the clothes were indeed old. Despite all that, Van still flinched when Rathien completed tearing his shirt open, revealing his silky green undershirt beneath.
Van still held fast to the Hunter's wrist, and so his hand was dragged along with Rathien's, which caused the Hunter to tear his clothes rather carelessly. The length of the man's claw-like nails surprised Van, and he remembered once again what Rathien had said: that no, he wasn't quite Beryllian. So, why would the Hegemony allow...?
The Pirate banished the thought from his mind, and answered Rathien, "I would suppose I can control the beast. While taming is not my trade, per se, I do prefer challenges. Mm, indeed, durgulsiii tanisi sayaa rasthije nanvetsaaa~."
He glanced up, and moved closer to Rathien. This pushed the man's claws further into Van chest, while he reached for Rathien's shirt collar.
Gripping it, he pulled himself up a bit, and said, "You know, the say, how 'even the wolf can abide the law', that which makes him 'the dog'?"
-
~The Polkaris~
Ewa smirked and rolled her eyes. "Van!" she said more sharply. She raised her hand and snapped twice near his eye. It might have worked better right in front of his face, but there wasn't much space left between him and Rathien and Ewa didn't know that she wanted to interfere there. "Eyes off the pretty man for a minute. Jeeze, I didn't think you'd be.... did you drug him?" She shot a glance up at Rathien. "Van, listen here. Strange woman. Outside. Wants to talk to you. Claims to be from the Urtahn." Ewa raised her eyebrows and gave him that expectant, pushing look that "patient" teachers tend to reserve for their habitually thick students.
-
Vogefac
Vogefac nodded, "So...is anything of consequence in the works? Do you know of any missions that might be available? While I am here, I may as well avail myself of the rich adventurous goings on of this location.", he smiled, remembering...
"Oh, pardon me, I meant to inquire of Bear and John. Have they been...well?"
Catie
Catie stared longingly into the ship until she finally just sat down criss-cross with her arms folded over her chest. She sighed...
-
Al smiled at the man that'd arrived with Sami. "No offense intended, of course. Every culture has its own taboos. It looks like I just crossed yours. Won't happen again." He winked at Sami, "Though I hardly think 'bad impressions' qualify as 'criminal impersonation.' As for the 'android,' that's me also." He gave a quick, halfhearted glance around the bar for Rathien, then dimmed the hologram of his face as he'd done for Zorish. The result was that his grinning Chee face was visible through the now-transparent version of his normal, also-grinning face.
"It just means that I'm an artificial construct, basically." He shrugged and raised his hologram to full strength again, so that his face returned to its normal, smirking self. "No big thing, really. I imagine I'm a good go-to guy for AI questions, though," he said to Sami with a smile.
He turned to Keshin and nodded, "Yeah, I know how that goes. We went through a period where laser-proof toilet paper was all distributed by one company. They wanted about an arm and two legs a roll. It was awful. Luckily, when stuff starts to catch on, you start to see more imitators, and competition drives the price down. Now we can TP Verrim warships for next to nothing." He grinned, "Hopefully the same thing'll happen with you guys' medicine soon. It sounds like a far more important type of purchase to make."
"And yeah, don't get yourself almost-killed again. It's awfully nerve-wracking when you do that. Plus, y'know, you're cool." He feigned shyness, turned away slightly and looked down at the floor, looked at Keshin sidelong, and batted his eyelashes. "I don't like it when you get hurt."
Salem took a deep breath to steady his nerves a bit and closed his eyes. He was beginning to understand where this was going to go... or so he thought. From what Mar was saying, this mostly involved a paradigm shift. The seeing of something not normally visible to mortals. It sounded like mastering it might be rough, but maybe that paradigm shift would be all he'd need.
He swallowed and nodded, "Extend away, highest. I'm curious to see these 'tendrils' of yours."
-
Sami gasped as Al let his hologram down for a moment. Her hand shifted under her cloak, but before she could reach up to touch him, his hologram was back up. She smiled and nodded. "On my planet, I lived in a small village dedicated to magic. Which I don't have the fondest memories of, and don't like all that much. Sorry, Larry." She turned and gave him a smiall smile, patting his knee apologetically. Then she turned back to Al." But there are huge cities in the wide open places. Cities where technology dominates, and there are AIs everywhere. They halp the people with their day to day lives, and its so easy for them to live." She sighed longingly, a hand drifting from her cloak to push back some long hair from her face, revealing her knee and shin through the cloak. "I've just always fancied technology and what it could do for my village. Make harvesting crops easier. Obtaining water easier. And we would be able to defend ourselves from the beasts in the forests...."
-
<I can't say I know what they're up to. I believe they left, and I haven't been in contact. As far as what has been going on...I'm not sure if you can help. My friend Efaen wants to join the Yeerk rebels because she would rather be with them than off the front lines. I'm not sure how I can ensure her safety as I care a lot for her, but there isn't much I can do. Her mind is made up, and I have to trust that Terenia won't find a way to enslave her again.> Claxter said.
<Otherwise I think it's been rather quiet. A few new people showed up, and I think I see Keshin over there. Since Terenia isn't inside Efaen, I wouldn't mind if the bounty hunter took her down. Zorish and Tamora are back, though I don't remember if you're familiar with them. Then there's this guy.> The guy he was refering to was Jocun, and he swiveled his stalk eyes towards him to indicate who he was talking to. Jocun just waved nicely.
-
At first Vogefac was able to keep up perfectly for a minute, and then...Terenia...Ke shin...Efaen...Zori sh...Tamora...
"I am unsure as to who these people are, but anyone who wants to join the yeerks simply to remain in combat is a fool."
Vogefac took to heart Claxter's words that he cared for Efaen, "Of course, my people are a warrior race. But there comes a time when there is no honor in combat. There is no honor when the motions of combat are not performed by you. When you add to that the fact itself that this Efaen would willingly give herself to a Yeerk..."
Vogefac looked at Jocun...he smiled slightly, and turned to Claxter again
-
Silver opened her eyes and groaned. The last thing she remembered was being unconcious on some odd planet. She sat up and held her head and looked around. Those trees......they looked familiar......the Space Bar!! How the hell did she end up here? and why? She stood up and headed out of the trees. Sure enough there was the bar and the ships. She wondered if any of the others were there and she tried to reach them with her mind.
-
<She says she will refuse infestation, but there would be little she could do to prevent it if they forced it on her.>
Claxter felt something odd, and scanned the room. <Do you feel that?>
-
She leaned against a tree and tried to push harder with her mind. <Anyone hear me?> she tried but with the pain in her head from the blow her yet was a bit weak.
-
When Al's face became invisible, Larry became terrified that he was an agent of Baal sent to kill him. However it was Sami's reaction that saved him from having to attack. She seemed to be interested in this being and from the way that she talked this was what she had been looking for earlier. This 'android' did not please him and in fact infuriated him because he was an abomination in his eyes.
Although Larry's people had been shunned for being able to manipulate the nature around them, They had always had a great respect for the nature around them. This being went against the laws of that nature by being what appeared to be a mechanical being. The very existence of this being cut him more deeply than any blade ever could. He needed to get away from him immediately before he made a rash decision to attack this being.
Larry leaned over to whisper in Sami's ear so Al wouldn't hear him. "I'm sorry Sami, but this being makes me very uncomfortable. I will therefore wait by the bar while you continue to talk with Al. Is that all right?" Larry asked.
-
Sami's smile falered a bit when Larry expressed his being uncomfortable. But she understood. It must be like the feeling she got around him at first. But now she had warmed up to him. She hoped Larry would warm up to Al at some point, but apparently that wasn't today. She turned to look at him and nodded. "I understand. It's all right."
Sami got a tingling sensation down her spine that someone was trying to talk to her. She let her eyes roam the bar slowly, but didn't seem to find the source. She just had the urge that someone, somewhere, was trying to call to someone else. She wasn't sure if it was for her or not, but she could sometimes feel what others couldn't. She shrugged off the feeling and turned her attention towards Al again.
-
Larry immediately stood up after Sami told him that he could leave and went to the bar. He was about to order when he looked to his left and saw what he thought to be an illusion. It appeared to be an Elf, but not the one he saw earlier that had helped him. It was a female Elf that was sitting all by herself and seemed to be lost in thought.
Larry was in awe that these creatures actually existed and the fact that this was the second he had seen made it seem unreal. If she was not so lost in thought Larry would attempt to talk to her, but he did not wish to disturb her. The legends of Elves were well known as great and wise forest folk. He decided to sit on a stool near the elf and wait until she was through with her internal thoughts.
-
<Silver? I can hear you! You're back?> Claxter said. She sounded rather weak, so he excused hiself and walked outside to look for her. After a bit of looking around, he saw her within sight of the building and began trotting towards her. <There you are. Are you ok?>
-
Using her mind hurt at the moment so she swapped to verbal once someone walked up. "Claxter? I don't know what haooened....the last thing I remember was I was with Vogefac and Thor and the Doc, when I was taken - yet again - and the last I seen, they were in trouble and then.......black... ..with a splitting pain to my head. When I woke up I was in the woods....." she winced and placed a hand to the back of her head.
___________________ ___________________ __________
Jade Tear gave a sigh as she decided to join the present instead of floating through her thoughts. She still didn't know this place well enough to be too distracted. She decided while she sat there, she would take off her cloak. The gown she wore underneath had no sleeves and was a pearl white color. It had a tight bodice and a long loose skirt.
-
Larry noticed that the Elf was removing her cloak and was mesmerized by her beauty. He had heard about the perfection of Elves, but like most of his kind he did not truly believe they existed. Larry looked over at Sami, who was still talking to Al and realized that while this creature had perfect beauty, she could not compare to the exquisiteness of Sami. He felt compelled to introduce himself to the Elf. He stood up and slowly approached the table.
Larry formed a triangle with his fingers in front of his chest, bowed and said, "Excuse my lady, but would you perhaps be an Elf? I have heard legends of these beings and you seem to resemble what the legends describe. If you are not an Elf than I extend my humblest apologies and will no longer disturb you my lady." in a respectful tone of voice.
-
Jade Tear had placed the cloak over the back of her chair and turned back to her glass, where she found a note from the one who had bought her drinks. She read it and then slipped it into the pocket on her cloak, mentally chastising herself for being so rude to him like that. Afterwards she looked up to find someone bowing to her. She blinked surprised. Someone here knew what she was? "I....yes I am." She introduced herself with her native tongue, that windchime fluidness of her words once again flowing and then again in English. "My name is Jade Tear. You are not disturbing me, please, sit if you like.
-
Larry felt honored to sit with this being and had to say so. "You do me a great honor by allowing me to sit in your prescence, my lady. Excuse my behavior, but in my culture Elves are nothing more than legend stories told to the children. I guess from your world things are much different.. Larry said in an awed voice, but then remembering his manners he continued.
"Excuse my rudeness, my lady. I am Larry Foulke, a Druid from the forests of Sanctuary. I hope you don't mind me asking, but how did you come upon this place?" Larry said in a respectful tone of voice.
-
She blinked surprised, he really did seem in awe. "I'm afraid I am unsure. I was walking in the Virgin Forest upon Elfhome when I turned around and was here. I'm going to guess it was a Natural Gate. An area of Magick that has opened to another dimension." she said. it was the only explanation she could come up with. "I have seen many creatures in my time, but never a Druid, Larry Foulke." she said, trying his name on her tongue and found it slightly odd but intriguing. "The honor is mine."
-
"I have heard that Elves possess amazing powers over nature itself. Far greater than what the Druids can do, Is this also true, my lady Jade Tear?" Larry said in wonderment. "I am but a lowly manipulator of flora when compared to our legends of the Elves. Although I understand if they are not true. They are children's stories after all." Larry said in a kind of embarrassed tone while smiling sheepishly.
-
"Not all Elves posses the same powers. And not all elves are born with magick either. There are different Castes. Depending on your clan, depends on what magick you posses. I am from the Earth clan." she said softly. She was surprsied and yet slightly embarrassed herself.
-
<Vogefac is in the building, though I haven't seen Thor.> Claxter said as he got to her. <Perhaps I should take you to my ship and give you some medication. Though honestly all of mine is for Andalites. Perhaps someone else has some for Humans.> He moved beside her to help her move.
-
Silver leaned against Claxtre slightly as she let him lead her back to his ship. "Vogefac is here as......well?" she asked surprised. How in the seven hells did that happen? Something was very odd about that planet and she didn't want to go back.
-
Sami heard a very interesting voice across the bar and let her sensitiv hearing kick in. She heard a very beautiful and fluent language, that then turned to almost her own. Then Larry's voice. She turned her head to look at him, half smiling. He had found a beautiful female. Her stomach flipped uneasily, but she was unsure why. She didn't want to disturb him, though, and turned her attention back to Al.
-
"The sins of the few?" Serid echoes Jocun with raised eyebrows. "Were not nearly all Yeerks members of the Empire? Did not most of them take unwilling hosts? Entire races were taken without their permission. I hardly feel your sugarcoating is fair."
Then Serid sighs. "Albeit, what you suppose may be true. Andalites are not forgiving creatures... particularly when shame and pride are involved," he admits. "It is a difficult situation, to be sure. Complex and likely without a solution that is satisfactory to all."
Illim shrugs. <<Shoulda coulda woulda,>> he responds, watching Terenia and Efaen.
-
"Yes, whether by choice or not. Of course the choice was whether to be part of the Empire and have access to what they needed to live, or not be in the Empire where they'd be hunted down by both Imperials and Andalites while having to steal sources of Kandrona. As for willing or unwilling hosts, I believe the Council and Vissers took a very dim view of host sympathizing." Jocun said. "Of course all of this was a very gray area. Still is, actually. Were not andalites also ostracized if they didn't express absolute hatred towards Yeerks? Were they looked down upon if they ever listened to rebels talking of wanting a different way?"
<Yes, he is. He'll probably find us soon enough.> Claxter said as he walked with her. "I might try giving you a bit of sedative once we're there to help you rest, then try to find someone with Human medicine.>
-
"My sister?" Zorish raises his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, I think you must have me confused with someone else. I have many brothers, most of whom I am not in contact with. If you're referring to my host body, she only has a brother."
He tilts his head slightly, giving Keshin an appraising look. "Who are you, exactly?"
Terenia leans Mike's body against the frame of the open hatch, eyes narrowing when she makes out the figure of an Andalite moving towards them. She pushes back the visceral reaction she has towards Ossanlin, reminding herself that he is likely her only hope of regaining humanity.
Folding Mike's arms across his chest she waits as patiently as she is able for him to arrive.
Efaen feels a mix of relief and exasperation when her stalk eyes pick up on her Prince coming near. She still does not trust him, but she hardly was eager to negotiate with the rebel leader herself. Beyond that, she still has her suspicions as to the true loyalty of Ossanlin. She is interested to watch them interact again.
<<Thank you for coming, my Prince,>> she sends him a private thought. <<I apologize if I pulled you away from more pressing matters.>>
-
Keshin rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his grape juice order. He was never very clear on how the orders at the Bar actually worked---you could seemingly order anything you could think of, and it would just..."show up" when you weren't paying attention. He was pretty sure the Bartender was himself a manifestation of the Bar, but that's about all he knew. "Al, we don't know each other that personally. But when two people save your life in the bounty hunter world, you generally consider them friends for the next cycle. And..."
Keshin raises an eyebrow. "...I can never tell when you're joking or telling the truth with some comments. Did you really need toilet paper?"
Keshin also mutters with a slight turn of his head, "Look, when I met someone with that shape in those clothes...her Yeerk was already dead. She was a voluntary and hired me to kill her sister for creating the circumstances that killed her Yeerk. If that....if you're some kind of other Tamora, then..."
Keshin groans, smacking his forehead. "....then I don't know what's going on anymore. I'm just a turelek."
****************************************************************************************
Mar's four eyes close as he focuses on the twisting, writhing entity sitting hungrily behind him. He wasn't as good at it as he should have been, considering that creature in a very strange sense was him. Mar carefully raises a segment and extends into the field behind Salem, attaching it into his back. This should theoretically allow both Salem to see the entity when his eyes are closed and cause him...mm, a bit of pain.
Mar opens his eyes again. There are now only two of them, and their color is green again. But a pretty startling, impossible lime green. Clearly the forces they are dealing with are...complicated. "Now when your eyes are closed, can you see strange uncomfortable shapes in the void behind your vision? That is...the undead maw of Oblivion. Entropy. The hungry death to which all mortal things fall. Try to make the image as clear as you can----you'll need to be able to control it. You should also be able to "see" yourself--as a glow in the dark."
-
"If you are of the Earth Clan, does that mean that you have the ability to manipulate the flora as well? Our legend stories tell of Elves so powerful that they can create entire forests or jungles." Larry said. Although he tried to say it in a normal tone of voice there was still a hint of awe in his voice as well. It was as if he truly couldn't believe that the stories he had heard since childhood were becoming real.
Larry realized that she may want to know more about him, after all she had said that she had never seen a Druid before. It would only make sense that she would be as curious about him as he was of her. "My apologies again, my lady. I question you relentlessly and not allow you the chance to question me." Larry said in his respectful manner.
-
"Do not fret my friend. I wouldn't know where to begin. Many of the stories we had of the Druids were lost to us many tears ago back in the wars. And I do not mind the questions. It helps me from becoming too paranoid of this off place. As for creating vast woodlands as you've asked. I do not know. I have never had cause to try." she said with a gentle smile.
-
<<You know I don't like it when those kick in when you're flying,>> Sydney said nervously. Eshen 2249 blinked a bead of sweat out of her eye, trembling hands wrapped in a death grip around the controls of the Bug fighter. "Would you rather me try to fly when they wear off?" Eshen said aloud. It was easier--voices were starting to whisper in her ears again, making it hard to communicate with her host the usual, mental way. Stupid, lousy pig, one of said voices said to Sydney. "You try not to crash while listening to that," Eshen continued. "I've gotta take 'em."
<<Fine,>> Sydney said. <<You do realize...>> "Yeah," Eshen said. With trembling fingers, trying to retain her focus as reality slipped slightly around her, she set the ship to autopilot, locking on to the coordinates. The buttons seemed to swap, but she closed her eyes and used muscle memory. It was easier that way. Once she finished, she crossed to the back of the fighter, plucking the small bottle from its usual spot. "Second to last dose," Eshen whispered, shaking two of the pills into her hand. Don't let her take that! a voice screamed. It's poison! All of it! Poison! She's trying to kill you, and you're falling for it! Stupid! Eshen nearly threw the bottle away. What if they were right? What if it was poison? Maybe she could just...
No. No. She knew this wasn't real. Just because her host's mind was...disturbed...d idn't mean she couldn't see that some things were hallucinations. But staring down at the innocent white pills, she felt a wave of revulsion. The Empire was probably out to get her for abandoning her post. They substituted the pills with something else. No. Eshen replaced the pill bottle--nearly empty--and grabbed a water bottle. Hesitating for just a moment longer, she downed the pills before sinking to the ground and closing her eyes, waiting for them to kick in.
See what you've done? A voice demanded. They never spoke to Eshen. Just to Sydney. You let her kill you! All because you're too weak to fight back.
This is all your fault, added another. You could have stopped all of this, but you're too lazy. You're too much of a failure.
Eshen waited as the voices lapsed back into an almost inaudible murmur at the back of Sydney's mind. Sydney sighed in relief, a gesture Eshen echoed.
The Yeerk hauled her host's body to her feet. The body Eshen was currently inhabiting, Sydney Teralin, was nineteen. Sydney had been a runner before Eshen came along, and along with Eshen's training to keep her fit to help fight for the Empire, was in pretty good physical condition. She had short black hair and dark green eyes, along with a spray of freckles dusting across her nose. She looked like a perfectly innocent human--but Eshen was a pretty darn good shot with a Dracon. So she was definitely dangerous. Eshen now surveyed the planet they were coming up on. <<What is this place, again?>> Sydney asked. <<It's a bar, tucked in the corner of the galaxy,>> Eshen said, reverting to mental conversation now that she could be heard. <<I figure a lot of different people visit this place. We should be able to get you some help.>>
-
Al shrugged at Sami, "Yeah, I hear you. There are some pretty distinct advantages to advanced technology, but really, it causes people to lose touch with nature, and with the true ways of living." He pumped his fist slightly and put on a melodramatically serious face, pushing his lip forward and furrowing his brow. "Gotta keep the spirit of magic and living alive, man. Technology can only do so much." His smirked at her and shrugged again, " 's why I sometimes like to just go camping, or surviving, or whatever, in some wilderness somewhere. Get away from all the high-tech gadgetry and just be one with the land. You start to lose that in a technological society."
He watched as the man- Sami'd called him "Larry" - whispered something to her, and turned and walked away. "I hope I haven't said anything too offensive," he said, looking after him with mild concern. "I didn't mean to scare him off with my little crown bit. Just trying to lighten the mood."
Al turned to Tamora and chuckled, "You guys are tough to keep track of. A lot of you look so much alike at this bar. You're really giving my human-observation skills a run for your money." He looked from Keshin to Zorish, "Do Yeerks usually use doppelgangers? What about stunt doubles? I used to be a stunt double. It was more dangerous than you'd think."
He laughed and raised a glass to Keshin, "To friends, then. Though I think I prefer making friends in the Furka world. It's just everybody. And I never joke. No, wait, I never tell the truth. No, wait, I do that sometimes too..." He put on a faux-confused look and shrugged, "Something like that, anyway." He laughed, "I mean, yes, we really do use toilet paper for the occasional... let's say 'shenanigans,' but it's always as a joke." His face grew stoic, "A deadly serious joke."
Salem waited, expectant, for a few seconds, and was about to ask Mar a question, when suddenly pain shot through his upper back like a shock. "Aaugh!" he yelped, and tried to bend away from it- to no avail.
And now Mar was speaking again... and really, the pain was becoming more like a tightness than anything else at this point. Far from pleasant, but bearable at least.
"Coulda warned me," he said through gritted teeth. He tried to concentrate on what Mar was asking. Yes, there... with his eyes still closed, he could almost 'see' something... feel it, maybe? Twisting, dark shapes, gathered all around him, flailing, moving, in and out of his 'vision.' Mar'd called them 'uncomfortable,' and that seemed to be a very apt description. They made him extremely uneasy, and Mar wasn't helping with his talk about the "maw of Oblivion" and "mortal death" and such. Mar'd said he had to learn to control this... he laughed internally. That seemed impossible. He was still struggling to comprehend it. This was unlike anything he'd ever seen. It was as though he'd stepped into an entirely different world. Though he was sitting on the floor of his own ship, he felt as though he'd been taken somewhere unfamiliar, a billion lightyears away. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought.
For a few moments, he struggled, looking for himself as a 'glow in the dark.' Things in this perspective didn't seem to work the way they did in the normal world- just turning his head didn't seem to be the right way to look around, not by itself. It was as if he was seeing more what he intended to see, but he couldn't really bring himself to want it enough to look around properly.
Finally, he managed to find a 'glow,' so to speak, but he felt it as much as he 'saw' it, as with the shifting, unsettling shapes. He was still struggling to make the 'image' clearer. He furrowed his brow, trying to concentrate. These things didn't make sense in the way he was used to, but there was definitely some kind of sense to be made of them, he could tell. The trick would be figuring out how to do that.
"I... see it..." he said to Mar, letting out a breath he'd been holding. "I mean... I see me... I think..."
-
Vogefac looked at Claxter, and tried to shut him out. He needed to focus...
Then he walked out of the room...so much the better. Quieter.
But...he had felt it...he just didn't know what it had been...
He walked outside slowly, eyes closed, to follow Claxter. When he turned to Claxter and opened his eyes...
"Artemis??? But...you were taken by the Gege! How did you..."
After a second of thought, he hung his head in shame, "My apologies, I failed you."
-
Sami giggled at Al, glad her attention had been redirected so expertly. She nodded. "I don't like magic all that much. I respect it. But don't like it. But I do love nature. And technology. Its an odd combination, if you think about it too much." She blushed some and pushed some of her loose hairs behind her ear. She let Al go on with his other friends, her mind once more wandering as she tried to let her senses go. But they always kept pinpointing themselves on Larry again. It was annoying.
-
Mar smirks a bit, thinking Oh, I can see you too Salem inwardly. The part of his mind that was human did not get any pleasure out of what was happening and was confused by the perspective that was being taken. But Mar had no time for such trifles---he had to...finish the arrangement before he was cut off. He had gotten nearly nothing done on this rock since he had come into existence. There were too many distractions. Thinking of Elayne, even in this state, brought him a strange pleasure.
"You'll need to get a good idea of where you are because without such a bearing flight will be impossible," states Mar carefully. He needs to speak as himself; Salem will be too unsettled by anything else. His...puppet. Extension. No. No. He was Mar, was he not? "...the idea is to use the energy around you as a projection of your will. If you can spot an individual tendril and move it, you can use it to lift your body up into the air. That emptiness is as much a part of you as the solid elements are."
-
Larry was thinking about what to say to this lovely creature and then a thought came to him. "Well is there anything specific you wish to know about me?" He asked while leaning slightly forward. As he leaned forward a small shaft of light highlighted his face and glinted off of his twin face scars and emphasizing his multicolor eyes as well.
"I am willing to answer any and all questions you have for me." Larry said in a soft tone of voice.
-
Eshen returned to the controls a few minutes later. They had entered the atmo--re-entry rattling the ship slightly--and were now descending towards the surface of the planet. "I think I was right," the Yeerk muttered, surveying the scene before her and the...multitude of different creatures there. "If we're gonna find a cure anywhere, it's probably gonna be here. Or someone who knows something about it. I hope." <<You inspire so much confidence,>> Sydney said dryly. Eshen couldn't help but chuckle at that.
She slowed her descent, traveling to an open patch of ground near the ramshackle building. <<Smaller than I expected,>> Sydney said uncertainly. <<But we know something's here,>> Eshen pointed out, nodding towards the spaceship. <<And that's just outside. There's bound to be more people inside.>> Fingers tapping across the keys, steady now that the meds were in her system, she went through the launch sequence, allowing the ship to settle down gently on the grass a little ways away from the bar. "Now," murmured Eshen, grabbing her stuff. She was dressed in a simple v-neck dark green t-shirt and black pants, with a black utility belt. A Dracon hung from said belt, along with other small pouches and various tools. "Let's hope they're not hostile towards insane Controllers here."
<<Just what we need,>> Sydney muttered as Eshen stepped into the open, blinking against the sunlight. <<People who hate us.>> "You never know," Eshen muttered, before clamping her mouth shut. Being on a ship for a while had made her comfortable talking to Sydney verbally. She would have to quit that now. They couldn't think that she was...well, she was crazy, but..."Never mind," Eshen muttered as Sydney laughed, then cursed herself again. Eshen distracted herself with surveying the scene in front of her.
-
~~~Artemis~~~
Silver looked up and seen Vogefac. She could have hugged him but was doing good to stand. When she thought thopain had stopped she tried to stand up straight but only swayed back towards Claxter. When Vogefac claimed he had failed her she shook her head. "You did not fail me. I don't know how I ended up here. But this is where I woke up."
~~~Jade Tear~~~
When he leaned forward she was captivated by the deep jewel tones that colored his eyes and was curious as to why they were two different colors. Then she noticed the scars. "Your eyes. They are interesting. What caused the scars and why do you have two colors?" she asked her voice coated with curiosity.
-
"Last I checked 'stunt doubles' were not part of Empire regulations," Zorish says cooly. He is beginning to grow tired of being mistaken for someone who clearly does not exist, and the accusations are making Tamora anxious.
<<What if she's really here? Or was here?>> Tamora asks, stumbling over the thoughts of a sister supposedly long dead.
<<She is dead, Tamora,>> Zorish sneers, impatience making him become harsh with his host. To prove his point he pulls up an old, dusty memory of Tamora's youth and plays it back to her.
Tamora is sitting on her bed, staring out the window. She can't see well; there is rain streaking the pane and the street lights warp the darkness, making shadows mutate into monsters. Tamora isn't afraid of monsters, though. Not tonight. She has much more important things to look out for.
Zorish speeds the memory up, to an hour or so later.
An older woman who looks very much like Tamora - all blonde hair and blue eyes and freckles - is sitting on the edge of her bed. Tamora hasn't moved, but tears are blurring her vision now instead of rain.
"I'm sorry, sweetie," the older woman says, and she is clearly holding back tears of her own, trying to be strong for the sake of her daughter. "Teresa isn't going to be coming home."
<<Stop it!>> Tamora cries, interrupting the memory. Zorish sighs and tucks it away. He enjoys it no more than Tamora, but he knows that he must stop his host's delusions before she gets carried away. Instead of apologizing to Tamora, Zorish looks up at Keshin.
"I assure you that Tamora has not put any hits out on anyone," Zorish says to him quietly. "And I am very much alive. You are a turelek, then?" He forces himself to smile, despite still feeling bad about hurting Tamora. "How is business?"
-
<<I wonder what they're up to,>> Sydney said as Eshen eyed the various species in the entrance to one ship. "What they do..." Eshen sighed at her constant mistakes, <<Is none of our business. I'm heading inside.>>
Eshen crossed the grass towards the bar, keeping her eyes on the door. All eyes must be on her. They must be staring...wondering ...hating...no. "Damn paranoia," Eshen muttered under her breath, not even caring that she said it aloud. A habit that had persisted for months couldn't be turned off easily. She ignored the fluttering in her stomach from the fear that ate at her. If there was one thing that Eshen hated most of Sydney's messed up mind, it was the paranoia. Hallucinations, voices, the occasional jumbled sentence, strange movements, she could deal with. But that fear...the certainty that everyone was watching, judging, blaming, hating...it made her want to run back to her Bug fighter and hide forever.
However, she made it across the grass and to the door of the bar without incident. Of course. She pushed said door open quietly, stepping inside and shutting it behind her. Eshen paused in the doorway. It was a little ramshackle on the inside too, but obviously popular. Several tables had people sitting at them. Well...people of various species, that is.
-
Al smiled at Sami, "So is me camping. Or mayonnaise and ice cream. I've never stopped to think too much about what makes an odd combination. That takes all the fun out of it." He laughed, "And I've always kinda liked magic. Can't do the stuff myself, but some of the Furka people who can always have the most amazing displays for us. For example, ever seen a moose kissing a goose down by the bay?" He frowned and stared into the space behind her, as if lost in some disturbing memory, "because I have..."
He turned back to Zorish with a smirk, "Don't start gettin' my friends into trouble, now."
He caught sight of a newcomer slipping in through the door. Judging by the look on her face, she was probably as confused and suspicious about this place as Salem'd been at first. He tried to catch her eye and send a warm smile her way.
Salem nodded. The emptiness... the thing Mar was saying was a part of him, just like his matter and mass... those failing tendrils whipping through the space around him... he could almost, almost see them. It was as if they were attached to something behind him, and he couldn't see them properly no matter how hard he looked. Or maybe as if they were attached to his back, he thought with a shudder. He was suddenly acutely aware of the pain again.
He spent a few seconds trying to get a good look at one of the tendrils. Each time he thought he could get close, he'd lose sight of the light... what Mar had said was himself. How is it I can lose myself? he wondered dimly. Finally, he sighed and grasped, twice, for one of the strange shapes as he 'felt' it whip and wrap around in space. He couldn't see or feel where he was in relation to them... and he was starting to feel like a bit of an idiot, waving his arms around like that.
-
Vogefac shook his head, "No...I was within reaching distance of you when you disappeared. There is no justification for that. I could've saved you but I failed. Again, just like last time we were at the Bar."
He raised his head, "But I am very glad you are alright."
-
Claxter reached his ship, and took her to the medical room. <Alright. Just try to rest here. I have a light dose of sedative in case your headache worsens much more, and I will try to find soeone who knows more about Humans to look you over.>
-
"Well pertaining to the reason my eyes are different colors, I was born this way, it's something that every few decades a Druid will inherit. According to Druid lore 'He who possess eyes the color of water and plant, possess great insight and knowledge' Since I possessed 'Natures' eyes', as they are called, my tribe felt that I was worthy to face the Prime Evil Lords." Larry explained in a soft voice.
"As to the reason of my scars, they are the scars that prove I was victorious in battle against two of the Prime Evil Lords." He traced the thin scar the started above his right eye and ended below his left. "This one signifies that I killed Mephisto, the Lord of Hatred." Larry traced the thick scar that started above his left eye and ended below his right eye. "This scar signifies that I killed Diablo, the Lord of Terror." Larry said in a soft tone.
-
Terenia shifts nervously as she watches Ossanlin grow closer, conferring with Mike.
<<I might be able to convince Salem and Efaen that I'm Corliss, but there's no freaking way Corliss' brother is going to buy that,>> she says. <<Maybe we should switch out again before making the call.>> She shifts uncomfortably against the door hatch, not too pleased with the idea of returning to the pool.
-
Eshen hesitated a moment longer, before a smile caught her eye. It was a human, a male, sitting at a table. She surveyed the other inhabitants of the table...and there were two uniforms of the Empire.
<<Uh oh,>> Sydney said uneasily. <<Hang on...that one doesn't look completely regulation. But...do you recognize the other one?>> Eshen tried her best not to stare, but...Sydney was right. The one wearing the more...conventional Imperial uniform (not that the modifications on the other one didn't look bad) was...familiar. <<I feel like...I dunno.>> Eshen shook it off, and forced herself to move towards the table. Like these Yeerks were going to recognize this one runaway. Sydney's paranoia said that they would, but Eshen did her best to ignore that.
The guy who had smiled at her obviously wanted her to feel more welcome. And Eshen wasn't the most tactful Yeerk ever, so she walked right up to the table. "Hi," she said. She gestured to an empty chair. "May I?"
-
~~~Artemis~~~
She followed Claxter and sat down, when her the room swayed she lied down and looked to Voegfac. "You could never fail me. You made a mistake, people do that. You need to see what I see.....and that iis a very good friend, fighter, and ally..." she said with a gentle look.
~~~Jade Tear~~~
She was intrigued by his eyes and, they were as beautiful as any gems. Without thought, her hand had raised slightly, as if to touch the scars curiously, but when she realized what she was doing, she stopped and laid her hand back down. He had gone up against evil lords? They must be like the Oni on Elfhome.
-
Sami giggled and nodded to Al. She tilted her head curiously as he stared off into space, but then he returned his attention to his friends. Sami was glad she had met an AI, but learning about them wasn't going to be easy in this environment with these other people. She gently laid a hand on his shoulder, making sure her cloak didn't slip and reveal anything. "You know what, I will leave you be with your friends here. I would love to learn about you and other AIs, but I feel as if I am intruding on your conversation." She smiled gently and turned to leave. "We can talk later if you want, when you aren't so busy. I personally would like that, that way I can get to know you better."
-
<<I dunno, love,>> Mike sighs. <<It's not as though even Reven has the clairvoyance to know you aren't Corliss. That is, of course, unless you botch his accent or demeanor in some egregious way. I'd give it a shot, you know. It wouldn't be best to be vulnerable and allow a reinfestation now, unless you really feel strongly about it. I reckon we could always lock the bloody pool room door.>>
-
Larry noticed that Jade had moved her hand to seemingly touch his scars, however she seemed to stop herself and put her hand back down. He glanced over and saw that Sami had finished talking to Al and wanted to introduce the two. Perhaps Jade could show Sami some of her own magic. He turned to look back at Jade and asked in a soft tone of voice "May my friend join us? I would like to introduce her to you, my lady Jade."
-
Sami continued past Larry, hoping she went by quietly enough for him not to notice her. She didn't want to interrupt, when he was seemingly so interested in this new woman. Plus, she just wanted to be outside. She didn't like being confined. She slipped out the door soundlessly, and walked quickly yo the edge of the woods. She felt safer outside, but not so much when she reached the woods. Sami leaned up against a tree, trying to decide if she really wanted to go into the woods.
-
Before Jade could answer him however, he noticed Sami exit the building. Larry was concerned and even stood to go after her, but it would be rude to Jade to leave so abruptly. For the first time in his life, Larry was unsure of what he should do. He slowly sat back down, but kept looking at the door with an almost saddened look in his eyes.
-
Jade had opened her mouth to answer, and accept the other into the conversation, but she left before she could answer. She watched the exchange, and knew very well what was going on. When Larry sat back down she placed a hand onto his on the table and offered a smile to him. "Go after her, we can continue later." She reached into her cloak pocket and pulled out a crystal that was swirled with blue and purple and handed it to him. "If you ever have need of me for anything, whisper my name into this stone. I will respond."
-
Al smiled and nodded at the newcomer, "Of course you may. The more the merrier. Name's Al," he said, holding out his hand for her to shake.
He turned and nodded to Sami, "You're not intruding, of course, but I'll come find you later and we can chat about the whole 'I'm a robot' business."
He watched as she walked out the door and then turned back to the newcomer. "So, what brings you to these parts?"
-
When Larry sat back down Jade had reached across the table and put her hand onto his. She told him to go after Sami and that they could continue later. She also handed a purple and blue crystal to him and told him that if he needed her to whisper her name into the stone. This was a very intriguing item and was obviously very magical as well.
Larry stood and once again formed a triangle with his fingers and bowed to her. "Thank you for the conversation, my lady Jade" He said in his respectful manner, however when he bowed to her he was slightly closer so he lowered his voice and said. "Thank you for understanding as well." He whispered.
With that Larry stood and strode towards the door and walked outside. As he looked around he saw his raven, Grun flutter into a tree, and hop along it towards a figure. At this distance it was a bit difficult to see who it was, but since Grun was going towards it there was no doubt that it was Sami. He began to walk towards her.
Grun had landed near Sami and was beginning to nuzzle her neck, hoping that she would pet him on his wing again.
-
Sami had her hands on the corners of the cloak she was wearing and was about to take it off when Larry's friend Grun hopped laong a branch to her. She smiled andlet him nuzzle her neck for a momen before reaching up to pet him on his wing .She figured that was why he was there. "Would you like to explore te forest with me, little one?" she asked him, for that was what she was about to do. She was goin to take thecloak off since it was going to no doubtedly fall off of her anyway when she shifted. And she was going to do some exploring and go back to the bar later to find Al.
-
Serid sits stiffly in silence a long moment before inclining his head. "I suppose you have a point," he admits quietly to Jocun. "In any case, the inflexibility of other races does not excuse the sins of the Empire or individuals within it. Morality is complex during wartime, but sometimes wrong is wrong."
By the time he is done speaking, his tone is flat. It is difficult to tell, however, whether this is from avowed belief or disbelief at his own words.
"Corliss," Illim speaks, an unknowing distraction from Terenia and Mike's internal dialogue, "if possible, my host'd like to use this opportunity to talk to Reven. He's yet to meet him and understandably wants to know what he's getting himself into." He raises his eyebrows, standing from his chair, "As a matter of fact, I wouldn't mind introducing myself, either, and gauging which of his brothers he's more like."
-
Larry watched as Sami petted Grun and seemed to speak to him. He was too far away to hear what they were saying.but it seemed as if she was heading into the forest. He whistled softly, loud enough for Grun to hear but hopefully soft enough that Sami didn't hear him.
Upon hearing his whistle, Grun looked up and saw Larry walking towards them. Grun immediately flapped his wings to fly towards his master, but changed flight directionalmost immediately when Larry gave a hand signal. Following the hand signal Grun gently landed on Sami's right shoulder. Gripping firmly yet gently Grun managed to not penetrate the cloth of the cloak, but remain balanced on her shoulder. Grun then resumed nuzzling her neck.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin comes to a stop near Efaen, not displaying any of his exasperation outwardly. <<Oh no, not at all Warrior. It is my duty to serve the People. Unfortunately there are many amongst us who do not take that particular policy seriously.>>
He nods to Terenia. <Corliss, I thought you had places to go and things to do...> He manages to keep his dislike for the Yeerk out of his tone...he must try at least to get along with Corliss, for Myitt's sake.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _____________
~Rathien~
Rathien bares his fangs mere inches from the Pirate's lips. "I am no one's dog, pirate." His tone is sensual and silky smooth as good chocolate, but carries a mysterious and dangerous undertone...good chocolate that might be spiked with venom. The tip of his knife pushes against Van's waist-line as he pushes closer. He stares into Van's eyes. Ewa was still in the room, and still trying to get Van's attention.
He smiles, fangs still bared as his claws start to dig through Van's undershirt. He deftly rotates the knife in his hand so that the flat of the blade is pressed against Van's waistline. He slips the smooth steel between the waistline of Van's pants and the pirate's body...all he would need to do is rotate the knife and pull back to slice through the material of the pirate's lower garment. "You're going to have to do better than this if you want to leash me, even if only for a short while." He continues to smile as he slides the flat of his knife back and forth between the pirate's stomach and the waist of his pants. "Either way, it's always dangerous to play with wolves." He runs his tongue over a fang openly...outright obviously in fact...showing his desire quite lewdly. At least his people would consider it lewd.
-
Terenia swivels her head to peer at Illim for a moment. "Yeah, sure," she says, shrugging Mike's shoulders. "Whatever."
When Ossanlin finally speaks she turns her full attention on him, bracing herself inwardly. "I do," she says, raising Mike's voice. "So it'd be bloody brilliant if we could get this over with quickly." Her gaze flickers to Efaen's smug expression, but she does what she can to keep her own temporary face neutral. "Come on, then."
She turns from the hatch, disappearing fully into the Skimmer and approaching the computer console. Keeping one ear open for the sound of Andalite hooves on the ramp she inspects the ship.
<<This sucks,>> she sighs inwardly, flipping through Mike's memories to find those where Corliss has contacted his brother. Luckily, Reven has been the subject of several communications lately, so the information is fairly fresh. This time sighing outward loud, she begins to key in rebellion encryptions that she really has no business knowing, sending out a hail to rebellion base.
If Ossanlin's last comment is a slight against her, it does not register with Efaen. On the contrary, she looks to be put at ease when he speaks of duty.
<<I thank you,>> she murmurs again, before turning her attention to "Corliss". When he disappears into the ship she hesitates, waiting for her Prince to make the first move.
-
Ossanlin conceals his dislike as Terenia speaks with Mike's voice. He had hoped the rebel would have left by now...he sighs and gestures up the ramp, glancing at Efaen. <<This is still your mission, I am merely an observer.>>
-
<<At least we've got Ossanlin's attention,>> Mike murmurs. <<Perhaps he'll forget how much he hates Corliss' bleeding guts and actually help us, so we can get the hell off of this rock. Can you at least thank him for coming? I don't want my head rolling across the floor.>>
The tired looking, dark-skinned young woman, no older than 18, sits up from her slouched position over the corresponding console. She blinks behind thin black wire rimmed glasses.
"Corliss?" Neviss says, surprised. "Don't tell me you're still at that stupid bar. Reven's livid, you've been gone for so long he's actually noticed you were missing." She smiles primly.
-
Claxter left Silver in Vogefac's care, and went back to the bar. He wnt to the table where the Human or at least Human-like people were, including Al. <Sorry to interrupt whatever conversation you're having, but a friend of mine has a head injury, and I would like some medcine suited for Humans. It's a headache as opposed to a bleeding wound, but still worthy of attention.>
-
Keshin grins at Al. The man was so utterly nonchalant. Despite everything that had happened at that crap-hole of a Bar, he was still laughing and enjoying himself. "To friendship, I suppose. Although I wonder how it is that traders as laid-back as yourselves have survived so long in a harsh universe. Your friend must have some excellent wares to sell."
<Wish we could be like that sometimes, Kess.>
<With the number of people who want us dead off and on, that's probably impossible.>
Keshin then glances back at Zorish and states carefully, "Look, look. Sooner or later a very alive person called Terenia is going to come back in here, and she either looks like a blue Andalite or looks just like you. Business in this bar has been completely awful, and part of it is because of somebody else with your host and your name. This Bar's weird----it has connections to places that should not exist. Other universes. I know now that you don't remember me, but your face is burned into my memory."
***************************************************************************************
Mar frowns irritably. Oh for Hael's sake, it was not that difficult. He just had to..."Dear Salem. I will not take something for nothing unless I am intending to steal. If you give me permission, I will lift you in order to show you how it is done. Think of the tendrils as an extension of your own signature, not as something separate. You and all others are beings of two parts---matter and non-matter between it. But..."
Mar smirks. "...I must be silly for expecting a trader from so far ahead to grasp the arcane. Still, I have nothing else simple to offer other than information."
-
Efaen nods, squaring her shoulders before taking the lead. By the time she enters the Skimmer a communication is already going through to the rebellion. She takes a place behind Mike and Terenia, but not out of tail range.
<<Oh, fantastic,>> Terenia complains, too nervous to bother honoring Mike's request regarding Ossanlin. <<Not only do I have to deal with Reven without Corliss to help, but I have to deal with a pissed off Reven?>>
"Yeah, uh, we're trying to leave," Terenia says, clearing Mike's throat nervously. "There's one more bit of business we need to take care of first, though." She shoots the Andalites a suspicious look. "Can you put us through to him? It's important."
"We've already become acquainted with Terenia," Zorish says dryly, barely noticing his use of the plural pronoun he usually avoids. "The human girl who also seems to be a Yeerk who everyone seems to think is my host's dead sister. Even unhosted she has already caused me a slew of problems." He gives Keshin a small smile, "My host is paranoid enough, without thinking that her sibling has risen from the grave."
<<I am not paranoid,>> Tamora says defensively.
<<No?>> Zorish asks. <<Delusional, perhaps? Teresa has been gone a long time.>>
<<Then how come everyone here seems to know about her?>>
Zorish ignores her point. It has been bothering him too, but the last thing he wants to do is admit to the possibility of Teresa being alive. Her death was the catalyst to Tamora's voluntary nature. He could not risk that.
"I apologize if anything I did hurt your trade, turelek," Zorish continues after a noticeable pause. "I assure you it was unintentional."
He glances across the table as a newcomer joins them. Human, or human-Controller at least, she is barely worth more than a glance. When the helpful Andalite walks up demanding human medicine, Zorish gives him a small smile. "A headache is hardly cause for alarm. Have you ensured that the human does not have a concussion?"
-
<I don't know how bad it is. I don't know much of Humans or anything aside from possible first aide.> Claxter said. <Unfortunately I'm not aware of any doctors on this rock.>
-
Sami smiled at Grun, but is confused by his sudden movement. She almost turns around, but he appears on her other shoulder. She laughs softly, letting her senses flow to see what spooked him. She hears someone coming up, but dismisses the sound. Grun would have fled if it were dangerous. She pets his wing. "I need you off of my cloak so that I may take it off to change shape, like I did before," she says softly to the bird.
-
Grun turns to look behind them and caws once in recognition. He has not flown away or shown signs of distress. He is obviously not afraid of whoever he cawed at. It's almost as if he is saying hello.
Larry continues walking toward Sami and Grun smiling when Grun caws at him. He walks toward the beach and his staff, which is still in the sand there. Upon reaching it he grabs it and slings it over his shoulder using the strap of leather. He then begins walking toward Sami and stops about 15 feet away from her.
-
Eshen shook Al's hand, glad for his welcome. She hesitated for just a moment, before deciding, whatever. Those two were obviously hosts. "My name's Eshen 2249," she said, and as one occupant of the table left, she slid into her chair. "I'm here....helping a friend," the Yeerk eventually decided on. <<Way to be subtle,>> Sydney grumbled.
<<Ah, shut up,>> Eshen said, though she was obviously teasing. <<I tolerate your crazy.>>
However, Eshen had to raise an eyebrow at one of Al's comments. "'I'm a robot?'" She repeated with a small smile. "There's got to be a story behind that somewhere."
-
Sami turned to smile at Larry when he stopped nearby. She made sure the cloak was secure around her before walking over to him and hugging him, doing her best not to shrug Grun off. "I thought you were conversing with that other female?" she asked politely. She had known it was him coming up behind her since Grun hadn't spooked. She was concerned as to why he left the female he was talking to, hoping that it wasn't strictly for her. She hated getting between two people.
-
~The Polkaris~
Ewa pursed her lips, disturbed, as Van continued his absolute absorption with Rathien and the hunter responded in kind. Well, at least he acknowledged that I exist even though he couldn't care less at the moment... I've never been so completely ignored, standing this close, when not acting as an Audience View... This isn't right. Her eyes narrowed up at Rathien more suspiciously, though he had other things to occupy himself with. So if Van was drugged.... I have no idea what happened while I was gone. They didn't get all that far, but... what? Something Van would allow.... Her eyes fix on Rathien's hand, sensually clawing beneath Van's torn shirt--not far below Ewa's eye level. His fingernails. That'd be a damn dangerous way to carry toxins, he'd have to be so careful.... Rathien had seemed very careful--and aware--of his hands though, now that she thought about it. And though he'd touched her hand, she hadn't felt his nails.
So now what? Even if Van was drugged, she wasn't going to be able to tear him away from Rathien--not with the both of them against it. Her mouth curled a bit in distaste and her eyes locked back on Rathien.
"You know, it's cheating if you use drugs on the opposite party. Hardly a fair hunt." Her face smoothed momentarily. "Please don't kill him," she asked sincerely before her eyes narrowed again. "I did see him first after all, and haven't had a chance to use him yet. Also," Ewa palmed one of her knives and slid the flat of the blade up underneath Rathien's tunic into the waist of his pants--much like what he had done to Van, "you appear inappropriately dressed for the occasion." She pulled the knife back, shearing a clean line from the waist to about halfway down the hip.
"I'll just talk to her myself. And if I end up screaming for help, I would really appreciate it if you'd get your hormones under control for long enough to keep me from dying." Yeah, right. And maybe I'll wake up in a moment and this will all be just a bad dream.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin follows Efaen up the ramp and gets within viewing distance of the screen inside, stopping there. It appears as though they had already been in contact with a comms officer. He says nothing, but observes silently.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Rathien~
Rathien raises an eyebrow as he feels Ewa slip a knife beneath his waistband. "I thought we'd agreed that sharing was best." He takes in a breath as she cuts into the waist of his flex-armor tunic. He bares his fangs at her next. "There's no need for jealousy...there's always room for one more...wolves are pack animals after all." He gives Ewa a winning grin. The last thing he wants is to alienate the attractive female.
-
<<Just remember to keep up the act, or he'll be even angrier,>> Mike warns with trepidation.
Neviss nods. "Yeah, I'll see if I can get him," she says tersely, and her image cuts out. While they wait, the green glowing holoscreen flickers idly.
-
~~~Jade Tear~~~
Jade Tear had finished her drink when she heard someone nearby say that a human needed medical attention. If it was like the humans on her home world, magick may have been invovled. She stood pulling her cloak on, but leaving the hood down, and approached the group. "Would this human happen to have any magick within them? If so, then normal human medicine may be messing with her immune system because of the magickal confines of their body." she said softly, first in her native language then english.
-
<She's definitely capable of some powers which could be called magic.> Claxter said. He wasn't sure if he believed in magic, but he wasn't about to dismiss anything in this place.
-
Vogefac looked at Artemis. Did she really see past his mistake? It was a fairly large error. How could she possibly not care that he had failed so utterly...
"Thank you Artemis... but if my ship were here, I would still go backwards in time and save you. Although, that would create a paradox...never mind that. I am glad you are here. I am glad to be here."
He smiled and looked around.
Catie paced up and down the ramp to the ship Van was supposedly in...what was taking so long. It wasn't a big ship. Well, not compared to the Urtahn anyways...
A very urgent matter has come up within the Alliance; galaxy-shattering news., Ogreon had said, Be sure to tell them I didn't want to leave. But I absolutely had to, there was no choice.
What kind of news could that be? Come to think of it, why hadn't he told her? She's an Astrofleet officer, just the same as him. Well...he probably didnt want to burden her with news from the Alliance when she was going off on her own adventures...
Where is Van...
-
~The Polkaris~
Ewa stared up at Rathien flatly. "That wasn't my point. Whatever you did," she waved her hand to indicate Van, "it was unnecessary. He was coming on to you. Spoiling it all with drugs--or whatever--is just crude."
She stalked out of the room, resheathing her knife as she crossed the hallway. With a sigh, she tucked a few flyaway strands of hair behind her ears, then continued with a lighter step. Ewa found the young woman still on the ramp, pacing.
"Sorry about that," she said sheepishly, absently wiping one of her hands on her pants. Her mouth twisted a bit in exasperation. "Van's still... ah... well, basically he's still too occupied to talk to you right this minute. You're welcome to come in though." Ewa smiled hopefully and offered her hand in greeting. "I'm Ewa, if you wouldn't mind talking just to me for now."
-
Catie heard the woman coming back down, and turned to face her.
She smiled happily, "You're Ewa? Why didn't you tell me? I have a message from...well, I guess I already told you. But no, I wouldn't mind talking to just you."
She cleared her throat, "Now let's see...what was it again...oh yea, Ogreon wanted me to tell you that he regrets he had to leave, but a very-important matter arose in the Alliance while we were away, and he was required to return to our space. But he wouldn't have left if he didn't have to. He wanted to make sure you knew that."
Catie smiled again, happy to have gotten that off her chest.
-
Eshen looked up at who had approached the table. Magic? Could that help Sydney? <<Oh come on,>> Sydney scoffed. She had never been a superstitious person, and didn't really believe in magic.
If Eshen weren't inside Sydney's head, she would have shot her a dull look. <<You're saying that to an alien in your head helping you cure the voices you hear.>>
<<...good point,>> Sydney admitted.
She eyed the Andalite warily, though. He seemed to be okay, approaching a table of with three Yeerks, and she had never been a huge Andalite hater, but it did make her fists clench under the table as she averted her gaze. Eshen decided to talk to the person talking about magic later, once she was more familiar with the patrons of the bar.
-
~Rathien~
Anger begins to feed into Rathien's passion. "I have done absolutely nothing but make physical contact...if he is inebriated in some way, it is his own doing." He ****s an eyebrow as the female leaves the room.
-
Ewa felt her stomach plunge at the young woman's wording, but just frowned with gentle concern. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope it wasn't anything dangerous was it? Though he did say it was a diplomatic ship..." she trailed off thoughtfully, watching for the woman's reaction from the corner of her eye. "Regrets he had to leave ... return to our space ... would not have left if he did not have to ... wanted to make sure you knew." Did he find a way out--our space--or did the person running this place find him? Is this his last message? Where does this woman fit in?
Ewa retracted her hand and put it up against the side of the ship, drumming her fingers. "I hope he's able to return soon, though I can't say I know him very well yet. Was there some reason in particular he wanted me and Van to know?" she asked curiously. "Actually, I'm not sure who you are either."
-
Al smiled at Keshin, "Whoa, whoa. Salem's the trader. I'm the epitome of fun." He rolled his eyes slightly to show that he didn't actually believe that. "Salem's got some nice stuff, but honestly, he mostly rides off of the novelty of his junk. He doesn't carry all that much that's particularly valuable, he just brings it all to universes where they don't have it."
He turned to Zorish, "Terenia's got quite a reputation for herself here, from what I understand. She does seem like a bit of a loose cannon. Girl needs a chill pill, if you ask me. Although..." his expression grew thoughtful, "if she really is your... host's sister, wouldn't that be cause for rejoicing? I could buy everyone a drink and crank some tunes to celebrate." His eyes lit up at the thought.
An Andalite approached the table, looking concerned, presumably about the woman he'd been with a moment before. He was followed soon after by the woman who'd been sitting at the table nearby for some time. He looked to both of them and said, "I'm not actually sure there's anything I can do for a headache without some medical supplies, aside from maybe advising that she get some water and some rest. Do you think there's any kind of real damage? I could run and grab something if you think she's really injured. I'm no doctor, but I could help a bit. Though..." he turned to Jade, "I've never seen medicine conflict with magic, but like I said, I'm no doctor. If there's a chance of it making her worse," he shrugged at the Andalite, "her best bet might just be a cool glass of water and... like, an aspirin, or whatever passes for aspirin in these ancient times. Unless aspirin's anti-magic?" With a cautious smile, he bowed his head slightly towards Claxter and held out his hand to Jade. To both of them, he said, "I'm Al, by the way. Don't believe we've met."
He smiled at Eshen, "Eshen 2249. Pleasure to meet you. I can't actually imagine what kind of... help you'd expect to find here, but it must be a very special kind of friend to deserve that." He paused before 'help' in mockery of her pause, but winked to show that he meant no harm by it. "As for the whole 'I'm a robot' bit... there's not as much of a story to it as you'd think." He laughed, and then, without even bothering to look for Rathien this time around, dropped the hologram over his face completely, revealing his grinning, doglike Chee face beneath it. "Basically, I'm just a robot." He brought his hologram back up and rolled his eyes, "No big, really."
Salem frowned. Silly for expecting me to grasp this? No way I'm giving up this easily, Highest.
Out loud, he said, "I'll get this. I can figure this out. If you want to show me how it's done, though, go for it."
As he spoke, he continued trying to get the tendrils to move. He stopped flailing his arms attempting to grab them- as with turning his head, the physical world seemed to have little or no bearing on what he was seeing, except that what he intended had some effect. He managed to pick out a single tendril, and caused it to change direction, whipping back the way it'd come. At least... he thought he'd caused to to change direction. With the damn things flailing every which-way, who could tell? It didn't help that his feeling for where they were was still pretty muddled... this was definitely not a sense like the ones he knew.
He tried to do as Mar had said- rather than looking at the strange, undulating shapes as unknown phenomena in the darkness, he tried to feel them as though they were part of himself. He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself and block out everything else. He tried to see if he could sense them... he almost could. From where the pain had shot through him, he could almost feel them. He could almost see when they would wave in front of his face. Not the limbs he was used to... but almost limbs... he tried to move one, tried to understand how to order it to move like a limb without any prior experience with said limb. He thought he felt it... one of them shuddered. It slowed, and he thought he could sense the others around it giving it a bit more space... though he wasn't sure what that meant...
-
<<Yeah, sure, no problem,>> Terenia says nervously, shifting her weight. She can feel sweat breaking out along Mike's brow, and she takes a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down. <<Yeerks are good actors,>> she reminds herself. Nevermind the fact that I'm not really a Yeerk, and that I've almost never had to spend time acting like my host. Especially not in front of anyone of any importance.
Efaen's stalk eye watches her Prince board the craft, but otherwise she remains focused on the blinking holoscreen, her posture stiff.
"Rejoicing?" Zorish asks, his lip curling a little in the first display of revulsion since he had arrived at their table. "Why would I care about some human child who has been dead a decade? All her continued existence will do is confuse my host. Even if it is Teresa, it is clearly not the same Teresa that she knew." She glances at the newcomer, Eshen. Clearly a Yeerk name and designation. Zorish had to be careful around her; if word got back to the Empire that one of their Sub-Visser's cared deeply about his host's well-being it could be disastrous.
"I prefer a placid host," he finally settles on saying. "Not one that is begging to speak with a ghost."
<<I'm not begging for anything,>> Tamora protests, although her thoughts are still on her sister.
<<I know that,>> Zorish snaps. <<but you aren't exactly being placid either.>>
<<I thought you liked it when I spoke to you,>> Tamora's 'voice' sounds a little hurt. Zorish sighs heavily, finishing off his Scotch. He glances at Eshen. "Eshen 2249, well-met, brother," he says in a dry voice, following the usual pleasantries of his kind. "I am Zorish Three-Five-Eight. May the Kandrona shine and strengthen you and all that bull****." His host's face curves into a frown and he props his elbows on the table, looking sullenly into his empty glass.
<<You could just let me talk to her,>> Tamora suggests.
<<No. Absolutely not.>>
-
Catie lowered her head and shrugged, "I wasn't informed. All I know is, as I was beaming down an officer gave Ogreon a display device with information on it. He told me it was galaxy-shattering news, but nothing else..."
She waited as Ewa talked some more, "I assumed you two were friends of his. Or at least acquaintances. I'm sure he wouldn't have me tell complete strangers. And I told you who I am; my name is Catie Anderson. I'm a medical aide on the Urtahn. Well, I was. Up until I beamed down for some shore leave."
-
"So that's the secret of the great Salem," states Keshin with a wry grin, taking a sip of his grape juice as he edges into his seat. "Pocketing useless junk and selling it in random universes where they haven't seen it. Then again, no legitimate businessman I know would feel sorry for a turelek. You'd be surprised how many times we end up almost dead."
<Like one outta every three times we fight that **** Myitt?>
<Oh shut up. We are not that bad.>
"Anyway....." Keshin frowns. "....what do you make of the new crowd in the Bar? Do any of them need any...."help?"
****************************************************************************************
Mar watches and waits silently as the trader fumbles in the dark, at last momentarily gaining a grasp on a piece of...himself? Yes, himself. Themselves. The Dark side Highest. Some old, some young. Some ancient. Close as he was to his true nature at this brief point in time, he could not help but laugh at his own stupidity. How could he have thought himself mortal, attracted to some young stripling that caught his eye? He realized this would not last, and his uncertainty would return. He must hurry and show the trader.
Several of the tendrils gather together in Salem's field of vision, forming a silhouette-like human-shaped figure. Tendrils then raise out of the ground and wrap carefully around parts of the figure's body, posing it as if it were a child's doll. The tendrils then hold the "doll's" position in midair.
"That's me," mutters Mar, a toothy grin crawling across his face as his real body appears to "float" in the same position in Salem's normal vision. "Obviously you have no need to make a simulacrum, being that you have a true mana-based soul. But the idea is the same. And as I said, I don't expect it to be perfect at all."
-
*Goku walks into the Bar, almost certain that nobody will remember him from days hence...*
-
<Greetings Al. I don't believe we've officially met either, though you and your partner Salem are well known.> Claxter said, bowing slightly. <I don't know how serious it is. maybe she does just need rest and quiet, though I'd hate to tell her that and find she doesn't have a pulse when I check on her later.>
-
Jade took his hand and introduced herself as well. "I am Jade." She then turned to the odd creature and said "let me see your friend and I will see to her round. I have dealt with humans before." She said with a soft bow.
___________
Artemis looked at vogefac before she could say anything else to him she went under and passed out.
-
<Thank you. She is on my ship.> Claxter said, and turned to walk away. <Thank you for your assistance. My friends name is Silver. She has special abilities, though she seems to have a weak constitution. She is both frightening and frail.>
-
"You asked for shore leave here? Very adventurous of you," Ewa smiled at Catie, letting the woman's mistaken statement that she had already introduced herself slide by. Everything points to her having just arrived. Maybe she hadn't thought of a name when she first came up to talk.
"You must expect Ogreon and the Urtahn back soon then. Or are you part of a group that came here?"
-
Reven's youthful, red-haired visage appears on the holoscreen, his pale cheeks flushed red.
"Corliss, where the hell have you been?" he demands, loud enough even for those who are not within the cabin to hear.
-
Eshen grinned at Al's imitations of her, but jumped as suddenly, Al vanished. But no....it was some kind of android. "Wow," she said, and mentally noted that. Androids probably had access to lots of information, and that could...
<<Eshen,>> Sydney suddenly said. <<Drink. Enjoy yourself. I'm not the only thing in the universe.>>
<<You're the only reason I'm here,>> Eshen said stubbornly. <<I might as well focus.>>
When one of the Yeerks spoke to her, Eshen raised her eyebrows at the lack of...formality. "May the Kandrona shine and strengthen you and all that bull," she mused. "I like it." She smirked for a second, but it faded as someone else walked into the bar. Here to kill her. No. Paranoia. Ignore it.
-
Terenia winces when Reven's face appears on screen. <<Well, here goes nothing,>> she says to Mike, wishing it were him -the person whose memories she had immediate access to - that she had to imitate rather than Corliss.
"Sorry, mate," she says, rubbing the back of Mike's neck and cringing at the floor. She does what she can to imitate Mike's accent completely, trying to keep her own Midwestern lilt out of the mix. "We're, uh, still at the bar. Been trying to leave for awhile now, but..." she shrugs helplessly. "This bloody place can't seem to let us go. I, uh, listen, Rev. I reckon we can leave pretty much immediately. The Andalite girl and, uh, Ossanlin need to talk to you first, though."
<<Holy hell this is hard. How the hell do Yeerks do this all the time? Damn.>> She tries to still Mike's shaking hands.
Efaen waits, standing nearly perfectly still. Her impatience is only evidenced by the slight shifting from one back hoof to the other.
Zorish laughs a little, his sullen expression fading slightly. "Yeah, well. A place like this hardly requires the usual formalities, don't you think?" The corner of Tamora's lips twitch.
-
"First the lot of you won't stop calling me, then Myitt comes back with no word of when you're going to leave, and now you've been gone for two weeks!" Reven cries. "That bar isn't a vacation spot and you are not on leave, do you understand me?" He huffs and runs a hand through his messy mop of red hair. "What does Ossanlin want? I've already told Terenia and Efaen all they needed to hear from me, I'll address the War-Prince."
-
"Yeah, alright, then," Terenia says, more than happy to let someone else speak. She glances back towards where Ossanlin and Efaen are standing. "All yours," she says, moving to the side to allow the War-Prince to take charge of the conversation.
<<He can totally tell that I'm not Corliss,>> Terenia says nervously, watching with wide eyes.
-
<<You know what? I'm not feeling eager to talk to the big boss if he's not in a good mood. Unless that only extends to Corliss for wasting time.>> Derrel said. Though obviously when he originally tried to get Efaen to leave with them, he thought she'd just let Terenia back into her head and they would leave. Not that she'd refuse and make sure she's treated like a person instead of Terenia's property. <<And what if he finds out Terenia's been using Mike? What if he asks me something that causes me to have to tell him. I learned not to keep secrets from the big boss for lesser bosses the day I saw a guy beaten to death with a crobar in front of everyone for doing something behind the big boss' back.>>
-
Artemis appeared as though she were prepared to say something, but she became unconscious. Vogefac caught her body, barely missing his claws.
"Artemis? Artemis? Can you hear me?"
Vogefac growled under his breath. Just because it was frustrating. He found the nearest table and placed her on it.
"Artemis, wake up. You are unconscious...", he turned to grab a s.e.n.s.o.r. To see if a small dosage of a familiar drug would help, but found himself utterly helpless in an Analite ship with no familiar technology. He sat down and waited for Artemis to come to as he thought.:.
What did that human female mean about Reptilinod being absent on her ship? Of course thery were; the Reptilinod were not part of the Alliance. How COULD they be on an Astrofleet ship?...
Catie smiled back at Ewa, "Why thank you. I need a little adventure. I've been cooped up in a med bay for 4 years of Astrofleet service. If this wasn't shore leave, I'm sure my adventures was get me twice the promotions in the same time it took me to become a Lieutenant."
She thought for a moment. She hadn't been on any adventures yet...maybe Ewa would just go with it.
"Well, I came down with an injured man our doctor fixed up. But he wasn't part of our crew or anything. And I didn't come with anyone but him...well, now he's hanging out with someone else so I thought I'd go exploring while I searched for you and Van. Oh, but no I don't expect them back that soon...galaxy-shattering news and all, plus a major tech refit for the Urtahn. but I can't wait until it does get back. At least to try out the new transporter I've heard so many rumors about.." she trailed off there.
-
It sounds more like being stranded than getting shore leave, Ewa thought. Ogreon had not seemed the type of person to abandon one of his own on a strange planet with no idea when he could come back for her. But if Catie was new she could be making this up on the fly.... So which is it? A new insert scrambling for a backstory, or a real character who did something to get herself marooned? Ewa lit on a sudden idea. Maybe she's more of a deserter--got tired of being cooped up, like she said, and decided to take matters into her own hands.
"I saw that man when he first arrived here. Glad to hear you guys managed to patch him up. I was the most useless person there." Ewa quirked her lips. "What's so interesting about this new transporter? Here, why don't you come in and we can sit down." She walked back up the ramp, motioning for Catie to follow her into the sitting room with its white and blue furniture and cushions.
-
Al gave a cool smile and shrugged at Zorish, "Even if you're not gonna get excited about the whole 'long dead sister' thing, you could always just do what I do and take it as an excuse for having some fun." He smirked, "Am I gonna have to teach all you Yeerks how to enjoy yourselves? Besides," he shrugged and gave a look of innocence, "if your host really wants to speak with her, how much harm could it do?"
Al laughed in response to Keshin, "Y'know, I think Salem might take offense to that assessment of his... business, or whatever he wants to call it, but yeah, that's pretty accurate. As for the new crowd..." he laughed again, "I might not be the best person to ask about that kind of thing. Your business isn't really something I'm used to dealing with. There are some interesting characters, but I'd have no idea how to tell if there are potential... like, clients, or whatever it is you hunty-types call them." He shrugged apologetically.
He turned to the Andalite and nodded, "Yeah, I agree, better safe than sorry." He shook Jade's and smiled, "Pleasure to meet you. Did you two want to try the magical healing thing first, or should I grab some medical supplies now just in case?"
He smiled at Eshen, "Yeah, I get that reaction a lot. Actually, you're one of the less crazy ones about it. I get stuff thrown at me all the time." He shrugged, "Apparently we robots are something of a novelty in this area. Once the novelty wears off, though, we're really not much different from you squishy organic things." He laughed and gave a grin that said he was only joking.
He looked from Eshen to Zorish, "'May the Kandrona shine and strenthen you' is a greeting of yours?" He grinned, "I like it. I might have to start using that. Think it'd catch on with non-Yeerks?"
Salem nodded and watched as the shape... it could represent Mar, he supposed, in a fuzzy, surreal kind of way he wasn't really used to seeing yet... was manipulated by some of the tendrils. He opened his eyes for a moment and noted Mar actually floating off the ground. Amazing how unsurprised he was by that.
He nodded, "Alright, so I just need to move these things and pick myself up. You make it look so easy, Highest."
He closed his eyes again- this new world, these new sensations... they'd still been there with his eyes open, he realized with a start. It was just that closing his eyes allowed him to block out the distraction of sight. That was probably Mar's reasoning behind that. He wondered if he'd be able to feel this without Mar's help... or if he'd be able to stop feeling it. He'd have to ask the Highest about it.
He picked one tendril and concentrated on it, willing it to slow and to stop. It slowed, but in only a moment he lost it, and it went back to doing its own thing. He tried again, and managed to hold one in check for a few moments before again losing it. He tried once more, trying to really want the tendril to behave as he willed. Success, it seemed. It slowed and stopped, and seemed, with some hesitation, to move back and forth where he wanted it to. He experimented with waving it slightly, afraid to make big movements lest he lose it again. He tried to get it to bend, willing it to as if it were his own limb. To his surprise, it did. Sort of. It curled around itself, flexing and undulating slightly. Not quite like the elbow he'd been intending, but at least he'd managed to get it to do something.
Now to find himself... doing his best to keep control over the 'tendril,' he started to look around for the glowing shape... 'mana-based soul,' Mar had called it... that he had to pick up and move. With surprising difficulty, he managed to find it, a glowing shape in the dark... his mind was beginning to get used to seeing things this way- it almost seemed to have form now. So now all he had to do was wrap the tendril around it and lift it into the air. Easy enough, right?
The tendril! He'd been distracted enough by his thoughts about the 'light' that he'd lost track of it. Damn it! Trying to keep the light in sight, he grasped wildly for another tendril, and managed to bring it under his control... but nearly lost sight of the light as he did so. No! He reached wildly for the light with his mind, this time determined to keep a grip on the shape in the darkness as well... but he could feel that grip slipping. On impulse, he mentally tightened his control over the tendril, and swung it quickly towards the light...
And suddenly, he was thrown sideways, towards the wall of the ship. His eyes opened wide in surprise just in time to register Mar's receding face, and he had just enough time to think Yes! before his back smashed into the wall with a sickening Thud. A second later, he found himself lying, dazed, on the floor, all the air knocked from his lungs and a throbbing pain in the back of his skull. He coughed violently for a few moments and pressed his hands to the back of his head, lying face-down on the floor of the ship. Soon, the pain had died down a bit and he sat up, hand still pressed to the back of his head. His hair was now a wild mess, and he could see his hat tucked neatly under one of the shelves that he'd narrowly avoided hitting.
"That felt like progress," he said hoarsely to Mar with a weak smile.
-
<You may bring your supplies to my ship now, whether we use one thing first or not. Having everything possible at hand would be best. thank you.> Claxter said.
-
Jade nodded in agreement. "It would be best. Come let us not waste time. Show me this human named Silver." She said and followed Claxter along with Al to the odd creators ship.
-
Claxter trotted towards his ship, showing the direction of it to Al so he could go by his ship and bring supplies there. Unless he already had a few with him. He entered the ship, and saw Silver was unconscious. <I have returned with help, Vogefac.> He said. He put a hand to Silver's forehead to see if she felt too hot or cold.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin looks at Reven with his main eyes, raising an eyebrow. <I do apologize for the disturbance Reven, it was not my intention to contact you. I considered the matter closed, but my Warrior Efaen requested permission to continue seeking admission into your organization. She wishes to discuss the matter with you. I am merely an observer, present because Corliss felt uncomfortable contacting you without my presence.>
<<Also I needed to hear the conversation for myself as Efaen is not entirely trustworthy.>> The last thought is in private through the comm only.
-
Eshen chuckled slightly at Zorish and Al's comments. "I suppose you're right," she admitted to Zorish. "This place is probably anything but formal, even from the little I've seen."
You are a fool.
<<Crap,>> Sydney whispered, terrified. <<I thought the meds...>>
<<You knew they weren't perfect,>> Eshen snapped, though she could still feel Sydney's fear...she was afraid too. The one voice--cold and deadly--was the only one that was constantly there. Sydney and Eshen both knew it, even when he didn't speak. It called itself Eternity, and they knew whenever something happened, it was their fault. Because they couldn't stop Eternity.
<<Stop it!>> Eshen snapped at Sydney. <<We both know that's not right! Eternity isn't real! Not everything is our fault! Stop!>>
That didn't help much, and Eshen realized that she had let her facial expressions slip. Dammit. She wiped the slightly horrified look off her face, stopped staring at nothing, and forced a smile. "Sorry," she said. When Al offered to help whoever was injured, she tapped a finger on the table. Ignoring Sydney's twisted mind, which was telling her that of course she was leaving, he was only pretending to befriend her in the first place so he could betray her, she said, "Talk to you later, then. Assuming you don't mind spending more time with us squishy organic things." Eshen grinned back, matching his joking demeanor. She had to keep that up as long as she could.
-
Illim sits back down in the unyielding titanium alloy copilot chair, as he watches Reven's face on the holoscreen. The young man looks anything but intimidating, though, despite his clear irritation with the situation.
<<You sure?>> Illim asks, taking a moment to leaf through the particular memory Derrel's thoughts have brought up. He gives an external wince at the violence and pushes the thought away. <<I really don't think the rebels are that type, though they do hold their cards close to their chest. I wouldn't mind meeting Reven, though.>>
He leans forward to get a better view of the redheaded man before realizing Reven can probably see him from this angle. Illim's immediate reaction, of course, is to raise his eyebrows and give an overly friendly grin before sitting back in the seat again.
-
Illim didn't seem too intimidated by the guy, so maybe Derrel was just getting too antsy. <<Well, I should probably try to talk to him anyway. I'm going to have to eventually. Why couldn't Corliss just leave without Efaen and pick her up later again?>>
Jocun had been silent for a bit, thinking and drinking. "Many individuals that probably should have been tried for war crimes died in the last battles against the Andalite Homeworld. The ones that survived may or may not have been punished, but either way they are dead. Now there are still crimes, as there always will be, and captured criminals are put to trial. There is still controversy regarding hosts, as I have said. Things are getting better for all species, and it is my hope that they continue to do so. Perhaps if I could find a member of the rebels, I could help them somehow. Not with information of the future, but surely there are other ways to help them along."
-
Zorish glances at Eshen with slight interest, noting her flickering expression, but saying nothing about it. He chooses instead to answer Al.
"Tamora's dead sister being alive poses more problems than reasons for celebration, android," he says, not entirely kindly. "Perhaps your programming does not allow you to see the severity of certain situations, but let me assure you that there is nothing 'fun' about what is happening here."
Efaen glances at her Prince in mild surprise. A part of her had hoped that Ossanlin would take over the negotiations rather than relinquish them to her. Straightening her back she steps forward slightly, addressing the human-Controller on screen. It is a fight for her to keep the sneer from her tone.
<I too apologize for any inconvenience we may have caused,> she begins stiffly. <As I mentioned previously, I am requesting permission to join your ranks. My Prince insists, however, that should such an arrangement be made he have the authority to pull me out and communicate with me at any time.> She glances at Ossanlin with her stalk eyes. <I will remain an operative of the Andalite military; however, while I serve within the rebellion I will, of course, follow your command.>
She hesitates, then adds in private thought-speak directed only at Reven. <<I do not entirely trust my Prince, Yeerk,>> she admits. <<My purpose here is to assist in destroying the Empire in any way possible. I truly believe that I can be most efficient through the rebellion. If you do not agree to my Prince's terms it is entirely likely that I will be condemned to wait out this war on the Homeworld. I->> she pauses, gathering up her strength, <<-beg you to give him the assurances he requires, regardless of how well they can be carried out. I cannot sit idly by while the Empire runs loose in the galaxy.>>
Terenia watches the exchange silently, still trying to calm her nerves from pretending to be Corliss in front of the Yeerk leader.
-
"Such as what?" Serid asks Jocun, eyebrows knitting together in a frown. "Soon I may be in touch with a member of the rebellion; I could carry a message to them for you, if you would allow me." Recalling Myitt, he adds, "They do not allow many to communicate with them, choosing rather to remain guarded and safe, so I may be your best chance here."
<<I guess because he's not an innergalactic taxi service,>> Illim smirks to Derrel. <<I dunno, I'm with you: I'd rather not ride to our new abode with a tailblade in the back, but que sera sera, I guess.>>
-
Al noticed the change on Eshen's face... she seemed to be having a hard time of something. She seemed to be doing a great job of hiding it, though. He'd have to keep an eye on her. He nodded, "I shouldn't be gone long, I hope, so I should be able to get right back to conversing with you squishies." He winked, "Squishy though you may be, you tend to be pretty good company."
He laughed in response to Zorish's comment, "Yeah, that may be. Then again, maybe it's your programming that's keeping you from being more positive about it. In either case, I'll stop pestering you about it."
He nodded to the table and stood up, "Excuse me for a bit, guys."
He turned and followed Claxter and Jade out the door. Claxter pointed out his own ship, and Al nodded. "Back in a flash," he said, and set out at a jog for Salem's ship.
-
"I don't know if I'm in my own past, or in another dimension. If it's the former, I don't really have anything to worry about. If it's the latter, I'd like to ensure that things go well. I suppose I could set up a supply route to the bar. A member of the rebellion could come to pick up whatever they need, and take it wherever it's needed. Food, medical supplies, kandrona generators, and more." Jocun said.
-
Reven takes all of this in with a thoughtful hand to his mouth, frowning at the conflicting private and public exchanges.
"If I allow you to live among us, Efaen, you understand that you cannot have any outside contact with your people, Ossanlin aside, for the duration of the war?" he says finally. The words feel as though they carry a great weight with them; the rebel leader is loath to admit an unknown Andalite into the midst of a society that has hardly been treated kindly by the Andalite Electorate in general.
-
After Al left, Eshen raised an eyebrow at Zorish. "I seem to have interrupted something," she said softly.
Of course she did. Constant mistakes, Sydney. You have been enslaved by a pathetic creature. Making you even more pathetic than her.
Ignoring Eternity and Sydney's whimper of fear, Eshen resumed her finger tapping on the table. It helped her keep her composure, moving, doing something. Anything to let her not focus on the fear. That was what she hated most. Paranoia.
Of course, Sydney being a paranoid schizophrenic...tha t wasn't really unexpected.
-
Zorish watches Al go before turning to Eshen. "No interruption," he says. He notices that Tamora is becoming slightly lightheaded as he does so. Shouldn't have drank so quickly, he chastises himself. The stress of dealing with all of the occupants of the bar led to him drinking more than he was accustomed to.
"So, Eshen," he says, a taut smile spreading across Tamora's features. He tosses some of her long blonde hair behind a shoulder. "Where are you stationed?"
He carefully keeps an eye on Keshin, not trusting the turelek.
<Yes,> Efaen says, bobbing her stalks. She can feel her stomach twisting at the idea, but she has already been out of contact with her kind for five years. A few more, for the sake of the war, was a necessary sacrifice. <I understand.>
-
"Ossanlin, how quickly can Efaen be placed into our service, so that my people may return to base?" Reven asks tersely. While he waits for an answer he looks over the other people in the room, his gaze passing briefly over Illim and Derrel.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin keeps his arms crossed in front of his chest, but smiles a bit at the viewscreen. The whole situation was...tense, there was no need to be unfriendly to Reven, they'd worked together before and the last thing he wants is bad blood with the Rebel leader. <Should the terms be met to my satisfaction, I see no reason why Efaen cannot depart as soon as we finish Terenia's procedure...I do need her presence for that. Of course Terenia must also be present, so Efaen would not be a source of delay. At any rate, these terms will make her placement amongst you all acceptable with my superiors, and will supply me with some piece of mind as well.>
He takes a breath and steps forward a bit. <Efaen did convey the gist of the terms that must be met, but I shall clarify. First and foremost, she will remain an active member of the Andalite military. She will remain ultimately under my command as an agent dispatched to your service. Of course I will only issue a command if I deem it to be absolutely necessary, leaving discretion to you and your lieutenants. This means, however, that I will have the ability to withdraw Efaen at any time for any reason.> He pauses a moment to let the information sink in, and then continues. <Secondly, Efaen must be allowed to contact me at any time without hindrance and vice versa, except during extreme circumstances, such as in te event that she is currently deployed on a sensitive mission. She will be required...> Ossanlin glances meaningfully at Efaen with his main eyes before returning them to Reven. <...to contact me at an interval no less than two standard weeks after our most recent live transmission...reco rdings will not count. If a mission will demand communications silence from her for longer than two standard weeks, I will need to be informed of the complete details of said mission AND give my approval before she can be deployed on said mission. Those are the terms of her sanctioned deployment. You must understand, though Efaen will be working for you and essentially under your command, she will still be my responsiblity.>
He waits a few seconds before sending another private speech to Reven. <<I apologize and in no way distrust you old friend, but I am well aware of the types of missions you run. Efaen cannot fall into Imperial hands, a second abomination would be a huge blow to morale. I will be responsible for her well-being whether she likes it or not...the terms protect not only Efaen, but yourselves and myself as well. If something does happen to her while in your service, I find it unlikely that even my friend in the Electorate will be able to convince the rest to allow any more joint operations involving the rebellion but the terms should at least be enough to stave off a "rescue-attempt". Be that as it may, I do not wish to lose the ability to work with you.>>
Ossanlin falls completely 'silent' and waits to hear Reven's ultimate decision.
-
"As long as we can agree that while Efaen is a member of our organization, any choices made under your command must not impede with the security of the rebellion," Reven says, crossing his arms, "then I believe we can come to an agreement, Ossanlin." His features soften a little. "My friend, I know you wouldn't lead us astray, but you must forgive my initial hesitancy."
He exhales, brushing a hand through his hair. "Now, how long will this procedure with Terenia take?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods. <As long as the mandate for security does not supercede the Andalite military's restrictions I have just outlined, then I do believe it will work.>
He pauses a few moments, thinking over his response. <The...procedure...i t is questionable. It involves myself and certain...circumsta nces...that require me to be completely prepared.> He doesn't know if Myitt has shared that particular portion of Ossanlin's existence with her brother or not, and he certainly doesn't trust the other Yeerk present, even though he had essentially been Serid's saviour, so he keeps the details to implications. <It will take time for me to reach a state of total preparedness, but I hope to begin the process within the next twelve to twenty-four hours. Once started, it should not take long to finish.>
-
Reven takes this in with a brisk nod. "Good. Thank you, Ossanlin, I trust that my new reports will arrive shortly. Be careful over there, I don't know how my brothers can stand that place."
He gives "Corliss" a meaningful look as he scans the room again. His eyes rest on Derrel and Illim.
"Who are you?" Reven asks testily. "I assume Corliss trusts you, or you wouldn't be capable of listening in on a high priority communication."
-
Efaen lets out a slow exhale through her nose slits as the conversation shifts from her to Terenia. It seems as though she has been successful in convincing all parties that she belongs with the Yeerk Rebellion.
A member of the Yeerk Rebellion, she muses. I must be either brilliant or a complete and utter fool. The Empire will not stand a chance.
Terenia tries not to look overly interested when Reven and Ossanlin begin speaking about the procedure that will make her human again. She considers speaking up, but decides instead to avert her gaze, not wanting to make the rebel leader suspicious.
<<I can't believe this is actually working,>> she says to Mike, genuinely shocked. <<This is the first thing to actually go right since I got to this dapsen rock.>>
She jumps slightly when Reven addresses Illim, but again says nothing, choosing to let him speak for himself. Her thoughts are still very much on Ossanlin.
<<Do you think it will actually work?>> she asks, some of her trepidation creeping into Mike's consciousness.
-
Derrel waits for Illim to respond as the big boss talks to him. He starts trying to think of things to say. what he should and shouldn't say about his own past and about the goings on at the bar. He wouldn't want to blabber on about unimportant stuff.
-
Vogefac stood as claxter returned. He had brought two other beings, a young woman and an android.
"We were having a conversation and she simply went unconscious. I am unsure as to why. I was going to diagnose her, but I have never been aboard an Andalite craft. I was...unsure as to which was medical equipment and which was some sort of weapon. So I sat and attempted to wait for her to regain consciousness. But, as you can plainly see, she has not."
Vogefac looked at the young woman and the android, "Greetings. I am Commodore Vogefac of the Imperial Reptilinod Mother Ship Zetylon, at your service."
Catie felt like she was smiling for ages. Ewa just seemed so personable.
"A Chivvian could use our equipment! It's just point and engage. I'm sure if you'd come with us, you could've helped. But that doesn't matter, don't worry.", she smiled...
She followed Ewa in and sat in the seat, "Well, it's not confirmed, but when we left the GSU was working on several projects, including the Perception Nullifier and the rumored new Transporter. Our transporter technology involved being transformed into a ball of energy and the energy is sent through z-space to the location specified. The main problem with that is energy can't make it through energy shielding. The person-energy would literally be scattered, absorbed, or transdimensionally removed...meaning they might be left a ball of invisible energy floating in another dimension - unreachable - for eternity. They wouldn't be conscious, thank god, but...their information, their energy would be left there forever."
Catie realized she was rambling, "Anyway, the new transporter is supposed to be a pure data transfer. The computer translates your body into a datastream, and it simply uses the data to reform your body where it's needed. So it's faster, and it can get through weaker shielding. The strange thing is...you'd die every time you were transported and then be reformed somewhere else.", Catie laughed nervously. Maybe she wasn't so anxious to try the new transporter...maybe that could be put off for a while.
"So, what about you? Where do you come from? What are you doing here?"
-
<I will try to see if she is too hot or cold, and make sure she still has an even pulse.> claxter said as he felt around her head and neck. <I had hoped she would still be conscious, but as long as she isn't dead or comatose, there is still hope.>
-
Al walked up the ramp to Salem's ship and was greeted with an odd sight. Salem looked to be injured, and Mar was floating in the air. As he entered, Salem glanced at him.
"What?" Salem said, a bit too defensively, as if he'd been caught doing something wrong.
Al just smirked at him and shrugged, then turned and caressed the wall, causing a drawer near him to open. He reached in and grabbed a medical kit.
"He's teaching me to fly," Salem explained.
"Sure, sure," Al said with exaggerated kindness. "I'll leave you two alone then."
Salem frowned, but didn't say anything as Al walked back down the ship's ramp and towards Claxter's ship, medical kit in hand.
-
~The Polkaris~
Ewa sat down across from Catie, tucking her left foot up beneath her right thigh. She was leaning towards the possibility that Catie was just a new insert and not some sort of agent sent to kill her and Van, but there was no knowing for certain. She's having a pretty easy time talking about technology that would be consistent with what I saw of the Urtahn. Either she was there for longer than I first imagined, or she has a lot of guts and luck when it comes to the details.
Ewa listened attentively to Catie's explanations. Perception Nullifier? Is that what was used on me so I can't sense anyone? Her suspicion ratcheted back up a notch, but she continued to listen without interruption.
"Those transporters bring a whole new meaning to the phrase 'travel will make you a new man'" Ewa joked before answering Catie's question. "I'm from Earth... not exactly sure which one. Compared to everyone else, that is. I've met quite a few people here who are from Earth, or have at least visited it, and it's clear that most of us are from different timelines--or at the very least different points in time. It's very much a mess." Ewa stretched her left arm across the back of the couch. "I actually didn't even realize I was coming here, if you believe that," she smiled mischievously. "I've been sticking with Van mostly. He had the misfortune to crash here, but he's the kind of guy who tends to land on his feet." Or sometimes his back, Ewa added to herself with a swirl of exasperation and amusement as her thoughts drifted back to the room down the hall.
-
Keshin watches as Al wanders off to do...well, whatever the AI did on a daily basis. Keshin shrugs and takes another sip of his grape juice, trying to make sense of the crowd in the Bar. He refused flat-out to take a job from Zorish, knowing how badly that had gone for them last time. But there didn't seem to be anyone else who needed their services. They'd have to get a good feel for the conversations in the Bar and find the most likely prospect.
<...mmnn. You sure we should stick around, Kess?>
<You'll see. We might get lucky.>
************************************************************************************
Mar carefully watches the trader's efforts and begins laughing under his breath when he sends himself flying. What an utter moron. He had finally gotten a hold on one, but he had no control of it at all. "Slow and steady wins the race, Salem. Do not move until you're sure you have a grip on your target. You're progressing, but----"
Mar suddenly winces and holds his forehead, his eye color reverting to a more human green. Mar rubs it lightly, groaning. "Blast. We are running out of time, trader. I will hold on as long as I can manage, but we only have maybe ten or fifteen minutes left. He---I----it's losing interest. Confusing, being me these days."
-
<<I have no bloody idea,>> Mike says, trying unsuccessfully to hide his thoughts of what it would be like for Terenia to be permanently human. Embarrassment washes through his part of his own mind.
-
Serid nods slowly as he hears Jocun out. "Through the Bar, I presume? I do not know if they would accept help of such a kind, genuine though it may be. It could erase your own timeline if indeed the rebellion I know is in your own past. Even if it is not, however," he continues, steepling his fingers, the sides of his hands resting on the worn tabletop, "I wonder if they would trust supplies you had to give them."
Finally he shrugs, a human gesture he has adopted. "I am happy to present a proposal to them, should you wish to speak about such an idea in further detail. Perhaps they will accept. I warn you again, though: they are guarded."
<<Like he would let the uppity Andalite in and not us,>> Illim tells Derrel reassuringly, putting on the most winning smile his new host's body can muster.
"Hey there," he says, giving a wave to the holoscreen. "My name's Illim. Illim 7-1-8 of the Hett Semplat Pool. I'm a bioengineer and a former member of the Peace Movement on Earth. And this is my new host, Derrel. I met two of your members, Myitt and Tora, earlier."
Abruptly, he wonders what they could have told Reven already, but he shoves that particular worry away.
"Corliss infested my previous host long enough to ensure I'm who I say I am--a potential new rebel, if you'll have me. Us. Derrel wouldn't mind the chance to speak to you, himself."
<<Want to? Now's your big chance,>> Illim says, gently releasing control of Derrel's body.
-
Derrel's body shifted as he once again had control of it. "Hey Mr. Reven. This is Derrel. I'm glad to have the chance to join your rebellion, though it's more for staying out of the Empire and having a home than any love of fighting. I let Illim into my head, and so far it's been...an experience. We've been trying to get back, but Corliss and Terenia insisted on trying to get Efaen to come with us, but she wanted to not be Terenia's host anymore, and well, you know."
"I don't really have any skills to bring to the table aside from being a host, but as long as I get the basic necessities and am treated like a person, I'll be happy. Sir."
He decided to spare Reven his whole backstory unless asked.
"Oh yes, I know how guarded they were. Still are pretty guarded, actually. Just tell them I share similar views with them, and if they have need of any sort of supplies, I'll help. Hopefully any changes will be more for the better than the worst." Jocun said.
-
Within the bar, there is heard a mild hum that vibrated through all those nearby. A silence fell and the next moment a bright light flashed with a woman with rich auburn hair and lightly tanned skin shoots through the bar knocking over any table or chair in her way. She tumbles and rolls but ends on all fours skidding to a halt with a certain inhuman grace. A low growl rumbles off her lips then stops abruptly as she realizes her surroundings have drastically changed. Her true forest green eyes of a leopard scout out the bar noticing everyone, making a subconscious count. She tilts her head up slightly as she scents the air for anything familiar. The only thing she could comprehend was the musk of the bar mixed with stale beer and rotting wood.
Her attention shifted towards a different engergy, sensing something more familiar about it. It began to nag at her like an itch between the shoulder blades that u can't get. It seemed different somehow, more animalistic. She got 2 inches closer to the ground and growled again sending chills down the spines of those nearby. Wrapping her power around her used it like a barrier to shield her from any potential magical attacks just in case. From the ground she called out. "Where am I?"
-
Terenia watches Mike's thoughts first with curiousity, then with her own embarrassment thrown in. She can feel a flush rising in Mike's neck and ears.
<<Let's not get ahead of ourselves,>> she mutters. <<After all, we've only just met, what, a few days ago now?>> Her laugh is sardonic. <<We're practically strangers, you know.>>
Zorish notes Keshin turning away from them and shrugs the conversation off. He resolves to keep an eye on the bounty hunter; at worst she is a source of information, and at best he may be able to persuade her to take a job, if need be.
-
"Well now, that's an entrance." Jocun said, distracted by the spectacle. "You're at a strange bar on a small and illogical planetoid that serves as a crossroads between dimensions and timelines." He said to the creature.
-
Illim watches in silence, observing Derrel's thoughs and worries. <<You're doing well,>> he reassures him. <<If there's any conflict over who to let in, I'm sure it'll be me, not you.>>
"Thank you for the offer to assist. I will surely pass along the word," Serid nods to Jocun. He offers a brief, small smile--the most he ever gives--and a nod of respect.
As Jocun's attention is pulled away by the entrance of the strange newcomer to the Bar, Serid stands from the table. "I should return to my duties. I am glad to have met you," he says and turns to walk towards the door out which Ossanlin had gone.
-
Vogefac cringed as he realized how elementary it should have been to him. Why had he not remembered to do something so simple? If asked he could say he was afraid his claws would catch on her throat. And that was partially true...2 foot metallic claws were great in a fight, but were impractical for many other things. Reptilinod had only just recently(in the last 1000 years) invented touch-screen technology out of the hundred-thousand year sentience. That's because there was no way to touch a flat screen with the tips of their fingers with their curving claws. The touch-screen tech they had actually had to interact with their claws...
"Is Artemis okay? Where is your medical sensor? Allow me to assist you."
Catie laughed nervously again. Then she just listened to Ewa, glad to get her mind off it...
"Yea...I met an individual from a species that exists in my universe, but I think...he must be from another universe, because he doesn't seem to be familiar with any of his species that work with the Alliance...and they just recently became PART of the Alliance...", Catie shrugged.
"I didn't realize I was coming either. I thought I would have to stay in the Medical Bay for most of the rest of my career. But, if I can complete some missions, I may be promoted to...oh, maybe a Lieutenant senior. Or even a junior Commander! Then I'd have two promotion ceremonies, one for increasing in rank, another for increasing in Cla - ...but you probably don't care too much about that...", Catie smiled knowingly. She'd been rambling again.
-
Al walked up to Claxter's ship and in the door, holding up the medical kit. "You guys want me to see what I can do?" he asked the three conscious beings inside. His introduction to the tall, lizard-like one could wait for the moment, he decided.
-
"It was nice meeting you too." Jocun said as Serid left, happy that he had made one person trust him at least a little.
Claxter wasn't sure yet if Silver's temperature was rising or falling, though so far he believed she was relatively stable. <It is over there.> He said, pointing to a machine with a monitor and cables with pads on the ends. <You can place the pads on her torso and head, and give the vocal command to monitor her temperature and pulse.> He could do it himself, but Vogefac seemed a little stressed and it would be something for him to do.
<Jade, perhaps you would like to look at her first, to check her in what you were talking about earlier. We will keep convention medicine on standby.>
-
Salem nodded and swallowed. 'Slow and steady' seemed to conflict with 'we need to hurry' in his mind. He felt he needed a few minutes to rest and allow the throbbing in his head and back to die down- but would that really even help?
"Alright, I'll try again," he said. He closed his eyes and did his best to block out the pain.
He reached out, trying to feel the tendrils. Now that he'd gotten one to move, he seemed to have little trouble picking them out, though he was still having trouble sensing the whole mass, or even, for the most part, where individual tendrils began and ended.
As he'd done before, he found one and managed to stop it, and get it to move back and forth. Mar had used several of these things when he'd shown him how to do this... doing his best to keep track of the one tendril he was already controlling, he reached tentatively for another. After a few tries, he finally managed to 'catch' two of them. His mind was growing more and more used to dealing with these things, whatever they were.
He tried moving them... and they did move. Sort of. He found he could move both of them together with relative ease... but that wouldn't be much use to him for flight. He tentatively tried wiggling them opposite each other, but neither one seemed to want to cooperate- they began undulating, and he could feel that he nearly lost his grip on them. He tightened them down and brought them to a stop, and then, mustering all his concentration, tried again.
This time they vibrated so badly that he actually did lose his grip on one. He stopped trying to get them to wiggle and idly swung the one he had back and forth for a few seconds, thinking- how in Nerphid's name was he supposed to do this? When he began paying attention to the tendril again, he noticed it had bent into a perfect curl, almost exactly as he been imagining. Interesting... He plucked another tendril from the seething mass of them- this one felt effortless, but he was pretty sure he'd just gotten lucky- and tried again. This time, he let his concentration drop and simply tried to feel where he wanted them to go, as if he were bending his own leg or arm.
"Ah!" he yelped. To his complete surprise, that had worked far better than he'd expected. They waved back and forth much like he'd intended. "This is harder when you put too much thought into it," he said offhandedly. He tried to envision the two tendrils waving back and forth as though they were an insect's antennae. They seemed to comply, to some degree; he was able to get them to move where he wanted. There was still a delay between his intention of moving them, and their moving, and they still weren't going quite where he wanted them, and they still seemed to jerk and shudder and take their own small detours on occasion, but at least he was getting a feel for them.
"Okay, now for this 'soul' thing," he muttered, momentarily forgetting that he wasn't alone in the room. He again began searching for the 'light' that was him, or his 'mana-based soul,' in the darkness. He lost his grip on one of the tendrils, but continued idly waving the other as he searched.
((Hey, Pixie, welcome to the bar ^_^ If you haven't already, make sure you read the first posts of both the GESB Archive (http://animorphsforum.com/index.php?topic=2089.0) and the Out Of Character thread (http://animorphsforum.com/index.php?topic=6830.0) and keep an eye on the OOC for information pertaining to the Bar.))
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((ok))
Noah's gaze shifts and focuses in on the man that spoke. She allowed herself one long slow blink to process the information just given to her. Breathe, count to ten she thought while trying to collect herself. With a quick glance downward, she found her sunglasses that had fallen and grabbed them. She slid them on with a practiced gesture as she stood peering about trying to wrap her head around her surroundings.
Her gaze fell back on the man and questioned him trying to keep the tension out of her voice and succeeding. "A bar I believe, but dimensions and timelines? You don't take me for a fool do you?" Noah's voice purred at the end anger trying to rear its big head.
-
"I guess you can believe what you want. I haven't been here long, but people have been reasonably civil so far. It's a nice place. So where do you come from? Do you drink?" Jocun said, waving the bartender over in case the newcomer wanted anything. The Bartender looked at Noah, but otherwise didn't move.
-
Squall was mildly surprised at Sami's action, but hugged her back nonetheless. "I was conversing with Jade, but only because she is an Elf. A race that my people believe only exist in the legend stories that we tell the children." Larry pulled back slightly and looked into Sami's eyes before continuing.
"How did your conversation go with Al?" Larry inquired in a tone that could be defined as almost resentful. Although he did try to hide it, the jealousy towards the android was still apparent.
-
Vogefac looked in the direction Claxter indicated. He did not see the device until Claxter described it...
He slowly picked it up, confused at the crudeness of the device. He walked over and carefully placed the pads on Artemis' body and head. He looked at Claxter, unsure.
"Computer, monitor temperature and pulse of the patient.", Vogefac said, his voice seemed slightly shaky. But that wasn't because he was scared for Artemis' life - which he was. His shaky voice came from the uncertainty he felt when dealing with a medical tactile-interface that received voice commands.
He handed the device to claxter, but before he gave it to him, one of his eye-ridges went up, "Tactile monitoring?", he asked inquisitively.
-
<Well, it certainly isn't the most state of the art machinery Andalites have. It's just something simple placed in fighters that often don't last a long time due to battles. They won't put the best equipment in a ship that may get shot down in its first fight.>
-
~The Polkaris~
Ewa waved a hand dismissively at Catie's self-consciousness. "Just because I don't serve in a military doesn't mean I'm not interested. It is kind of strange though..." Her eyebrows drew together thoughtfully. "Why are you a medical officer when you seem to have much more passion for field work? No offense or anything, of course." Ewa held up her hands defensively. "It's just that you sound so much more excited about your adventures here than being in the medical bay...." Ewa trailed off for a moment before a small smile curled its way wickedly onto her face. "Or is it maybe that the adventures you had in mind wouldn't really... count... as 'work'? Or maybe wouldn't be allowed?"
-
Her eyes narrowed behind her dark glasses, then took a moment to look out the window for anything suspicious. As she focused back on the man Noah rolled her shoulders back appearing to loosen up but truly feeling the short sword hidden down her spine. Her long auburn hair hiding the tip of the hilt and her plane zip up jacket hiding the rest of it. She breathed out resisting the urge to check on the rest of her weapons for fear of giving away their position.
Noah slowly walked towards the man and takes a seat at the bar. She tries to relax a little, but staying on guard not giving her back to the room. She looked up towards the bar tender and spoke. "Gimme a shot of skky vodka and a beer." Some how this combo always calmed her but never took away the brunt of her senses or inhibitions.
She turned back to the man and double checked her barriers making sure she wouldn't have any of her power leak out. Being the powerful wereleopard she was, that was a hard feat to accomplish. Noah held out her hand to him. "Noah, Noah Reese. And I'm from Earth." She allowed herself a small smile. "Sounds odd having to say that."
-
"Jocun 119. Also from Earth, though it is not my ancestral home. So, are you here on purpose or by accident? I'm here on purpose, though that purpose is just vacation."
-
She raised an eye brow at him feeling it would be obvious that her entrance and shock was anything but intentional. Noah thought back to what had happened right before she was tumbling into chairs and tables. She remembered being about to challenge her Nimir-Raj, leopard king, to battle for the top spot when his body guard did a spell on her, or at least it must have been a spell to move her through space and, apparently, time if she were to end up here. She wondered if he knew where he had sent her or if it was on purpose to exile her or just get rid of the threat. Noah sighed and answered his question. "It wouldn't seem to be an accident, but it was not me who did it. The guard of the man I was about to challenge to a fight broke the rules and interfered, sending me here." She paused to down the shot in one gulp, then finished. "They'll pay." Her expression hardened as she rubbed her ankle against the leg of her chair without drawing attention to it, feeling the cool metal of the Beretta 84fs cheetah hidden within her boot. The cool thought of seeing him tortured calmed her bubbling anger. She took a sip of her beer and stared blindly in front of her, enjoying the scene playing out within her head.
-
"Well, you did look quite surprised and made an ungainly entrance. I just wanted to be sure. You are a warrior, yes? Or at least training to be, if you're making challenges? I'm a soldier myself. In fact, I'm an important figure in the Empire that runs the galaxy I'm from. Have you ever heard of Yeerks?"
-
Her eye brows narrow in the the thoughtful expression and thinks for a moment on how to reply without seeming like an idiot. "I can't say I have. And yes, you could call me a warrior, one of ambition. I am one of the strongest of my pard and am tired of my incompetent leader. It is not against the rules to challenge my leader, just not advised, for you tend to pay with your lives." She takes another swig of her beer holding her tongue on any other information because she does not know the man and his worth. Noah looks at him again in curiosity. "What makes you an important figure?"
-
"Good diplomatic skills, competence in arms and strategy, and knowing the right people." Jocun said. "That last one is probably most important. So how popular are you with your people? It's always good to have a following, otherwise you'd be overthrown quickly even if you did win your challenge. Do you have a plan in which to improve things that your current leader has neglected?"
-
Catie's head swayed to-and-fro in a gesture of uncertainty, "Well, I've been working in the med-bay for most of my career, so going on adventures sounds exciting. Plus, if I stuck with my medical career, I probably would reach Lieutenant Senior in...a year or so. This way is quicker."
Then ewa suggested an ulterior motive, "What? Like...pirating or something? Never! I'm an astrofleet officer, and I would never do anything like that!"
-
Noah nods as he speaks eyes still taking in her surroundings. One comment didn't sit quite well with her but she held her expression a blank thoughtful look. 'knowing the right people' isn't that a cheat. She fights to not laugh because her rank in her pard had nothing to do with the people she knew, just the strength and dominance of herself and those she is willing to protect from their Nimir-Raj.
She smirks mildly at him, letting him feel the intensity of her stare even through the sunglasses.
"Nosey, are we? Information is to be earned, not talked out of someone." She swirls the beer in its bottle and leans over towards the man drawing his eye to a decent, but not inappropriate, amount of cleavage surrounded by her plain long sleeve black shirt. Noah peers over the rim of her glasses allowing him to see the abnormal true vibrant green of her leopard eyes as thoughts play behind her eyes while she speaks.
"If this were a matter of torture though, then we'd be talking." Noah had always had her sadistic moments, which is why so many of her past enemies are now on her side. They didn't like some of the things she found alluring.
-
"As a social person, I'd say getting help from people isn't a cheat. Though if that were the only reason a person was in a position of power, I'd say it's very irresponsible." Jocun said. She leaned close, and he could sense her intensity. It was different from the distrust of the admittedly dangerous Prince. She just seemed fierce.
as a Yeerk, he had no interest in the cleavage she was showing, but her closeness made his host pay more attention to the conversation. even though he was 50 years old, that particular body part was still quite functional. He didn't know if he wanted to look at her chest or her eyes more, though Jocun focused on her eyes.
He leaned back in his seat slightly, though he still had a smile on his face. "Are you saying you enjoy a bit of pain? You can feel free to ask me questions, and we might take our conversation to a quieter location."
-
Sami smiled softly at Larry and shook her head. "Didn't have much of a conversation with him. He was a bit more occupied with some other people, which is fine with me. I left because I didn't want to draw his attention from them too much." She pulled back from him and smiled before petting Grun, who was still on her shoulder. "I was going to change shapes and go exploring in the forest for a little while, and come back later because I did not want to disturb you either."
-
Noah sat up straight again regaining her thoughtful mask as she hid her eyes behind her glasses once more. She watched his body language and noted his abnormal take on her own just a moment ago. 'He doesn't react like most, because most guys either are too tough to look anywhere or drool over the cleavage. What is he?' She thought to herself letting the moments pass until his leaning in towards her became awkward for him.
"No. I cause pain, I don't endure it." She looked him up and down with a curious expression upon her features. Noah sensed little from him, or nothing that seemed familiar to her.
"What is a Yeerk?" She kept the awkwardness of asking such a question out of her posture and voice. Though, he did say she could ask him questions, so she would.
-
"A Yeerk is a small worm-like species that lives in the head of a host. We've been called parasites because we gain much more from being in a host than our host gains from us being in them. We are the current rulers of a galaxy. We can do anything and everything our hosts can do, but outside our hosts we're pretty much helpless." Jocun said.
-
Noah chuckles to herself and takes another sip of her beer. She is unable to stop pondering on the idea of how one could get the worm outside of its host. A multitude of ideas run through her mind, none too pleasant for the host nor the worm. 'Acid in the blood? No, a twist on an antibiotic, maybe. Surgical removal while they sleep? Or just burning them, yes, burning would be interesting...' Her thoughts trail off as she looks at him through the corner of her eye. Noah's thoughts go slightly south as her leopard raises its head to pay attention in the cave where she resides within Noah. The leopard's hunger grows as Jocun begins to look more and more like food. 'Maybe I could just eat body part by body part and see if the little worm would flee the pain the body experiences, or should I go straight for the head?'
Before she could notice it, Noah was leaning in towards Jocun scenting him only a few inches from his throat. Her eyes widen behind her glasses and she pulls back with inhuman speed, not thinking enough like a human to stop it. She stands up, grabs her beer and downs it in a few quick gulps.
"I need some air." She said then started to walk for the door.
-
The friendly smile never left Jocun's face, but his gut was telling him there was something dangerous about this woman. He watched her walk away, trying to see if she had any weapons hidden by the way her body moved. There was usually a difference in the way a person walks when they have a concealed weapon. Why did he have a feeling of danger when she was near him when the Andalite didn't really set him off? Was it her eyes, or how she leaned towards him? Was she sniffing towards his neck? He started yearning for a weapon, or possibly a bodyguard.
Word might get around that he was an Imperial, and the denizens might not be trusting enough for him to carry a weapon, especially since the clothes he wore were too tight to conceal anything. He deided to go visit some people, and moved towards the table with others after refilling his drink.
"Hey guys. Mind if I sit here?" He asked the people at the table, as well as the Sub-Visser.
-
She walked human fast toward the door and burst through without looking back. The bright light hit her like a mallet, even with her sunglasses it was hard to adjust to it. Noah kept one hand on the wall as she walked taking deep breaths trying to calm her beast. The lust for flesh was creeping up on her, her leopard pacing within its cave waiting for its moment to escape. Noah pressed her back against the wall and slid down and covered her face with her hands. She slipped her hands inside the arms of her jacket to feel the cool steel of the daggers she had hiding on each arm. 'Human, you're human, not animal. This is your body, control it.' She thought furiously to herself.
Noah opened her eyes and looked around her for the first time. She opened a hole in one of her barriers and let a little of her power leak out. It flowed along the ground, out and out until it touched anyone within a mile. To those who are sensitive to it, they'd feel it like bugs on their skin, unable to brush it off. To those who have no magical talent, they'd be oblivious to it.
-
Sami suddenly felt her skin start to crawl, and she tried to brush the feeling off, but she couldn't. She started to physically shake her body, causing Grun to flap into the nearest tree, cawing uncertainly. Sami wrapped the cloak around her tightly as she looked around for the source of the magic that was causing this, and she scented the air as well. She could smell a strong feline of some sort, off in the direction of the bar. She looked over at it and saw a female standing/sitting outside the door, in a black cloak with dark glasses on. She frowned, trying to figure out what the female was. She let her senses flow, her own sort of magical sense flowing about too. She was sure the female would pick up on it since Sami could so easily pick up on her. This female was powerful.
-
Noah felt like a jolt the presence of another. She looked in the direction the pull was coming from. It was just a girl, who looked like any other, but her power felt different. It caressed along her skin and nipped painfully as if it were trying to eat her alive. She opened her mouth to better scent the power playing along her skin, letting it run along her Jacobson's organ. It was a gesture her leopard shared as it began to slowly stalk up the path within her, getting nearer to the surface. She tasted of so many creatures, some she knew, others were foreign. The scent was intoxicating and her eyes began to glow with it.
She stood with an inhuman grace and found herself standing withing 6 feet of the girl in a matter of seconds. Her hair was moving with the breeze their power created, the deep reds standing out in the light. Noah froze so close to her eyes narrowing taking in everything she could sense and see. She tried desperately to clear her mind and shut down her barriers blocking the brunt of her power though it still played along her skin. She took a deep breath and spoke.
"What are you?"
-
Sami gasped as the female was suddenly right in front of her. She jumped in front of Larry, almost as fast as the other female, her arms splayed outwards, the cloak fluttering in the breeze and showing her naked form beneath. Her green tinted skin shone in the light, the light brown freckles visible. Her long black curly hair fluttered in the breeze of their power, and her green eyes darkened. He upper lip drew back in a snarl as her nails and teeth began to elongate, thinking this would be the best way to deal with this female since she didn't look like an animal. But who knew, since she smelled of one. Sami heard her question and growled softly. "I am Sami. Who are you, and what do you want."
-
Eshen broke herself hastily from her reverie, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead. <<I knew this wasn't a good idea,>> the Yeerk whispered to Sydney, which was useless. The host was basically a quivering mass of fear. Hallucinations had sprung up around them. Strange creatures, horrific mash-ups of Eshen's and Sydney's memories, closing in fast. Eshen knew they weren't real--her brain was still separate from Sydney's...malfunctioning. ..one, and she could tell the reality from the visions. But Sydney couldn't, even with Eshen there trying to reassure her. She had fought Eshen's control, trying to get her body to get out of there. The result was more of Eshen staring at the table, twitching slightly every now and then from the mental struggle. Eventually, the hallucinations had lapsed away. The medication they took mostly helped with the voices. But there were still times when Eshen could hardly keep herself composed.
See? The Yeerk is calm, Sydney. You fool. You have lost again. Failure.
And Eternity wasn't helping either. Eshen probably didn't look very sane about now. She glanced up at the other occupants of the table, hoping that nobody had addressed her. Things were already getting too complicated...
-
Noah removed her sunglasses keeping her eyes to the girl's feet so she couldn't see her eyes. Then folded them placing them in her jacket pocket. She finally looked up showing her the vibrant green of her eyes. Her pupil narrowed to a slit from the bright light, giving away the fact that they were cat eyes. Noah looked her up and down surprised to see someone so inhuman. Part of her still hadn't taken in the inter dimensional fact of this bar. She fought to not make her stance aggressive, but her body tensed, ready for battle if it truly came to that. Her hands relaxed just in case it did come to claws and teeth. The last time her hands were in fists and she had to fight, she stabbed herself before she could unfold her hands to release her claws.
She calmed her voice before she spoke, making sure all the power in the air didn't make her short of breath.
"I didn't say who, I said what. What are you? You feel familiar, yet so very foreign." Her voice stayed steady, and her thoughtful mask was back in place. Brownie point.
-
Sami's eyes narrowed as she took in every move the female made, noting her feline like eyes and smell, and how she could barely keep herself relaxed. She must have only recently gotten here, and was just as freaked as Sami was when se had arrived. Sami lowerd her arms some, but made sure Larry stayed behind her. The claws receeded and so did the pointy teeth, but Sami's eyes were narrowed warily. "I am from the world of Pendira, and the race of Pendirans. I am of a breed that is going extinct on my planet, called Changelings, due to the power I contain." Sami stood up straight, still in front of Larry, but her arms were down so that the cloak now covered her naked form. Her green eyes flashed to match the color of the female's, then returned to her slightly different green. "Who and what are you?"she inquired, tilting her head to the side a bit, letting her facial features flicker, to try to see if she could draw forth a reaction from the female to figure out what she was. Her eyes flashed different colors as did her skin, her mouth forming and deforming to reform to a different shape.
-
Noah kept her blank expression she had perfected because of her Nimir-Raj would focus you in his unique forms of punishment if you draw his attention. She had it nailed so much it drove him insane, so much so that he began to use those she swore to protect to try to get a reaction from her. She watched her change form with ease and was more amazed by that than by what she was changing into. Noah allowed herself a small smile, one of amusement and just glad that she had calmed her aggression. She took a deep breath and let go of the tension, but kept herself loose just in case.
"I have a feeling you at least know the basics of what I am, being that I was able to get the same information from your scent." She paused for a moment and looked over her shoulder to the man she was protecting. That peeked her interest but she kept it to herself for future reference.
"My name is Noah and I am a wereleopard of the Red Stone pard. From Earth, if that isn't obvious."
-
~~~Artemis~~~
She gave a slight groan as they messed with her head slightly. Her temperature was just a little hot yet nothing too much to worry about. Her pulse, however, was starting to grow faint and slow.
~~~Jade~~~
Jade stepped closer to the human. Instantly she knew this human was special. She bore runes of magick on her skin. Not to mention the aura and untapped potential. She asked the others for space as she placed white crystals around three sides of the girls head. She splayed her hands six inches above the girls body and chanted slowly and softly in her language making her words sound like a soft light filtering into a dark cave.
As soon as she seen the magick and power within this fragile human she became serious. "I need ink or paint that isn't lead based and in a sapphire blue color." She said turning to the others. "I will need her face neck and shoulders cleansed and sanitized."
-
Al watched as everyone gathered around Silver- he hadn't been expecting her to be the one who was injured. This did seem like overkill for someone who just had a headache... but then, he agreed with the Andalite- better safe than sorry.
When Jade asked for help with what would apparently be a magical cure, he glanced down at the med-kit in his hand, shrugged, and tossed it back over his shoulder so that it landed with a crash.
He grinned, "Alright. Magic. Let's do this the professional way." A top hat appeared on his head in a puff of smoke. He took it off, reached in, and pulled out a confused-looking rabbit, before both the rabbit and the hat disappeared in puffs of smoke. He laughed, "So pro." Without waiting for reactions, he pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and walked over to Silver. He took a seat beside her and began gently dabbing at her neck and shoulders with the handkerchief, which suddenly appeared to be damp. The holographic cloth would act exactly as a real cloth would, thanks to the incredible precision of the attached force-field generator, and would pick up dirt and sweat effectively, which he could then sort out in his system later.
As he dabbed, he turned to Claxter, "Do you have any sapphire blue paints? Cause I've got a few back on the ship, including one with just the lustre and sparkle for her." He bent down and carefully dabbed her forehead, "I think she'd look absolutely fabulous in it."
-
~The Polkaris~
Catie's head swayed to-and-fro in a gesture of uncertainty, "Well, I've been working in the med-bay for most of my career, so going on adventures sounds exciting. Plus, if I stuck with my medical career, I probably would reach Lieutenant Senior in...a year or so. This way is quicker."
Strangely fixated on rank for a medical officer, Ewa thought. Does it really make any difference?
Then ewa suggested an ulterior motive, "What? Like...pirating or something? Never! I'm an astrofleet officer, and I would never do anything like that!"
"Because you're principled," Ewa observed. "You believe in the rules, in doing the right thing. You believe in order--ordering the world around you so it is right and follows the rules." Ewa nodded her head in acknowledgement and approval. "And maybe, as you are a medical officer, you also believe in helping others." She tapped her fingers idly on the back of the couch.
"So. Lieutenant." Ewa stared at her fixedly. "Who are you planning to help here? What is it you plan to do for your promotion?"
-
Back in time aboard Desmond’s ship in orbit:
As the crew leaves the room with Silver and Desmond in tow, Parker sees red dots on his motion tracker. He calls out to the crew as they return to the shuttle, “Guys, get to the shuttle, we have company. I’ll hold them off!”
A group of four CG soldiers come running down the hallway. Parker takes the corner to head them off. He stands in the middle of the hallway, Battle Rifle aimed at their heads. He fires a three-round burst into the face of the far-right soldier. He falls at his comrades’ feet as Parker swings his rifle to the left, keeping his fire constant, sending three-round bursts, one after another. The rest of the group ducks to dodge the head shots and return fire.
The rounds hit Parker sporadically, causing his shields to appear around his armor. As Parker sees the soldiers duck, he lowers his aim as he reaches the far-left soldier. The far-left soldier had hit the wall and had planned to slide toward the ground while firing. The first of Parker’s three-round burst clears over his head, the second clips his shoulder as he hits the wall. He winces and goes to fire when the third bullet hits his chest, and pierces his heart. With two soldiers left, Parker sweeps his aim right, aiming low.
The two middle soldiers, now on the ground, continue their fire. Parker’s shields flare one final time before disappearing. His HUD begins flashing with an alarm sounding, letting him know his shields are depleted. He smirks behind his helmet, They’re starting to learn. Too bad. His sweeping fire catches the two prone soldiers in their backs. They fall silent and their bodies go limp on the floor.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin continues to watch somewhat impassively as the discussion goes on until he feels a strange sensation. A small patch of his fur stands on end as he feels something like a chill wash gently down his skin. That sensation...so faint, but there was no doubting it, it was a similar feeling to that of the strange demons that had invaded the bar some time ago, and also somewhat like Mar, though different. Someone who wasn't too far away was using energy...or emanating it. Without being in a state of ascension, he cannot sense where the energy is or how powerful it might be...it is somewhat troubling to say the least.
He turns his main eyes on Efaen, not wanting to leave the ship before the conversation comes to an end, but feeling it might be necessary to check for whoever was putting off energy...if it was another demon...but it would have to wait, the chances of another demon attack were slim, and without being able to ascend, there wasn't much he could do against one anyway. He refocuses on Efaen again.
<<Listen to me Efaen, and listen well. This is your desire, remember that. When I first suggested this, you were completely against it...for whatever reason that you changed your mind, remember that you were the one who changed it. I hope that you will learn that not all Yeerks are the same. Be that as it may, I want you to keep all four eyes open and do NOT be reckless. As soon as we are able to egress in good manner, we will adjourn to the Mirage. I will brief you further within the privacy it provides.>>
-
Jade looked to Al with a confused look. She didnt know why the paint needed glitter or sparkles. "It's for a spell....the paint will disappear when the spell runs its course." She turned to the girl with a serious face."She was hit in the back of the head . Its a wonder she was awake as long as she was."
-
After being away what must have been weeks, Gaz walked back into the bar.
"Never thought I would miss this place," she muttered to herself.
Gaz was a young woman in her mid-twenties who favored dark pants, a light shirt and a dark blue pirate long coat. No one was quite she where she had gotten it from. Her long brown hair was down this time instead of in a ponytail like usual.
Gaz walked up to the bar and ordered two runs from the bartender, who gave her a silent nod in greeting. As much as she would have liked it, both rums were not for her.
Odysseus Morgan, captain of the ship walked in. This was a man to turn heads. Morgan, as many called him, was muscular and close to seven feet in height. He wore trousers that didn't look quite long enough along with a dark green shirt that looked like it didn't quite fit across his chest. He was also a darkish brown all over, which was mostly hair. Morgan was also a Minotaur.
With a sigh, he sat down beside Gaz.
-
Noah kept her blank expression she had perfected because of her Nimir-Raj would focus you in his unique forms of punishment if you draw his attention. She had it nailed so much it drove him insane, so much so that he began to use those she swore to protect to try to get a reaction from her. She watched her change form with ease and was more amazed by that than by what she was changing into. Noah allowed herself a small smile, one of amusement and just glad that she had calmed her aggression. She took a deep breath and let go of the tension, but kept herself loose just in case.
"I have a feeling you at least know the basics of what I am, being that I was able to get the same information from your scent." She paused for a moment and looked over her shoulder to the man she was protecting. That peeked her interest but she kept it to herself for future reference.
"My name is Noah and I am a wereleopard of the Red Stone pard. From Earth, if that isn't obvious."
Sami nodded to show that she did in fact know what this female was capable of, even if she was a bit ignorant of what she was. She noticed that Noah finally took note of Larry, and moved a bit to her right to show him some more. She knew he was a bit weak, but she also hoped he could take on any magical attacks while Sami herself went in close combat. But she didn't let this show on her face. Not that she could anyway, with it changing and all. But she finally let it settle to her normal features. "Earth? I have never heard of that planet before." She tilted her head curiously again, blinking a bit.
-
Although Larry had shown no reaction to this Noah, he was not oblivious to her presence either. He had simply been here too long to be startled by other beings actions and besides it seemed as if Sami was capable of handling this fight. However when Noah acknowledged his presence with a glance he felt it was necessary to introduce himself.
He took his staff, which was made of a strong wood, was perhaps three and a half feet long and adorned at the top with a ruby about the size of a fist, off of his shoulder and stuck it in the ground. He then formed a triangle with his fingers and placed them over his chest while giving a slight bow. "Greetings, I am Larry Foulke of the Druids." he said in a soft, but formal tone of voice.
His unique eyes, the right one a sparkling sapphire blue the left a shimmering emerald green, were focused intently on Noah's face. His face was adorned with twin scars that formed an X. The first started above his right eye and ended below his left. It was thin, perhaps half an inch wide. The second started above his left eye and ended below his right eye. This one was thick, perhaps an inch wide.
He wore a leather vest which was black in color and slightly open revealing his bare chest. His pants were also made of black leather and his boots were also black leather.
Larry straightened up and looked over his right shoulder towards Grun, his raven. He whistled softly and Grun extended his wings to their four foot span and flapped over to the trio. However instead of landing on Larry's shoulder Grun decided to perch on Sami's right shoulder. Grun took care to grip firmly, but gently so as to not hurt Sami or tear through the cloak. Grun gazed at Noah with his fierce bird stare and cawed at her once in what seemed to be a warning or challenging tone.
-
Sami turned her head to smile at Larry a bit before returning her attention to Noah. She wasn't fazed at all when Grun landed on her shoulder and tried to be careful about not hurting her. She patted his wing gently when he cawed, cooing softly to him, saying it was all right. For now. She kept her gaze on Noah, letting her face go blank before mimicking Larry's eye colors and scars. She wsn't intending to provoke Noah, just find out a bit more about her. "Where and what is Earth? An what exactly is your power, besides magic." She didn't wait for Larry to react to her question. "You have very strong magic, but a sense of... Something else about you. Something that magic cannot neccessarily stop."
-
<I believe I have blue paint, though I'm unsure what shade it is exactly. The Warrior that had this last had put some in with intentions to give the ship a little more personality.> Claxter said as he went sifting through the back. He came out with a container. <It does not have lead in it.>
Jocun waited for someone to answer him. His attention was brought to a woman that didn't seem very well. "Are you ok?" He asked. she was twitching a bit. It almost seemed like her host was fighting her, and hopefully no one would notice and take it badly. He had seen what some people do if they have reason to believe a host is involuntary.
Two new people walked in, and one of them looked like a half bull man. He didn't seem to be in a great mood, so Jocun ignored him for now.
-
Noah nodded in Larry's direction keeping her eyes up watching all three in turn. She didn't pay much mind to the bird, for she saw it more as a weapon and not an individual threat. She took in the man's features memorizing the face being that his didn't change, it made it far easier. She drew her attention back to Sami as she asked her questions.
"The best answer I have to that is the milky way galaxy. I don't know where this is in reference to it. The planet itself, it's too vague of a question to answer." Noah took a moment to ponder how to answer the second question not truly knowing how to answer.
"Magic can't stop an animal, for that is part of who I am. And I don't have a special skill, not truly, just control over my power and the skills that come with being a lycanthrope, were-animal. Like quick healing." She left out the fact that if she was injured by another lycanthrope or by silver that her wounds would heal human slow. She didn't need others to know that who could use it against her.
-
Parker steps over their bodies and checks his ammo count. He disengages his rifle clip, catches it as it falls, reaches back to his pack and withdraws a new clip as he inserts the half-full clip back into his pack, then refits the new clip into his rifle. He began walking back to his friends, when a new group bursts through the door the last four came through, this time their numbers were tripled. He quickly darts behind the corner he had earlier turned. Without his shields, the rate of fire from all those soldiers would easily turn him into Swiss cheese. His own armor would reflect and resist enough on its own, but with twelve soldiers firing constantly, it wouldn’t last long. He shot around the corner as he peeked to aim. It would’ve been easier had he used his Assault Rifle; then he could just spray without chancing putting his head in the line of fire.
The fire from his Battle Rifle was keeping the men at bay for now; and he was able to thin their numbers. But they kept getting more reinforcements! With the numbers of soldiers increasing, Parker had no choice but to retreat towards the shuttle. Hopefully his friends would still be there. As golden rings travelled up and down his body, Parker’s HUD quiets and shows his shields had recharged. With his shields recharged, he made one last volley of shots and bolted towards the shuttle.
The CG soldiers, too distracted by their own firing, couldn’t tell Parker had fled. With less soldiers falling, a voice rang out, “Cease fire!” All soldiers stop firing, and see no volleys were being returned. “He’s run off, they must be retreating! Let’s get ‘em!” The soldiers scream a battle cry and give chase.
-
When Sami had regarded Larry with her smile it warmed his heart. He listened to what Sami was asking Noah and was surprised when Sami asked Noah about her magic power. He had not seen any evidence to support this accusation, but realized that Sami had perhaps sensed it.
Larry listened to Noah as she explained where she was from and her powers. It unnerved him at the way Noah kept staring at him. It almost seemed as if she was perhaps attracted to him and wanted to be his companion. However he had already decided that Sami would be his companion and decided to let Noah be aware of this. He also wished to let Sami know more about his feelings and find out her opinion on Noah as well.
Larry slowly grabbed his staff with his right hand and pulled it out of the sand. He then took a couple steps closer to Sami and then took his left arm and gently encircled Sami's hips with it and gently pulled her closer to him until their bodies were touching.
Larry took his staff that was in his right hand and slung it over his shoulder using the strap of thin leather attached to it. He then leaned down to place his mouth near her ear."Are you able to sense wether or not she represents a danger to us or our...feelings for one another?" he whispered in Sami's ear softly enough that Noah should not have been able to hear him.
Grun, who had enjoyed Sami's caressing of his wing and calmed down when she said it would be OK, watched his master's and friend's actions intently. He knew that his master would not harm this new being, unless she threatened either him, Larry, or Sami. Grun also knew that his master's actions were to simply protect Sami as well.
Larry winked at Grun and he knew that was a signal to depart. Grun carefully hopped off of Sami's shoulder, caught a headwind, and soared above their heads. He began flying in a lazy figure eight thirty feet above their heads.
-
Gaz handed Morgan a glass of rum.
"Here. This will make you feel better."
Morgan accepted the glass silently and took a swig of the drink. It did help to improve his mood a little.
"Look at it this way," Gaz said. "We were able to get some information and land a couple of useful jobs at the same time."
The reply was a nod and Gaz was happy to see that Morgan was lightening up a bit. Whether or not he said so he was glad to be back at the bar. True, things had happened since they had first arrived, but compared to some places it felt safer. The bar had turned into their safe haven when they needed a break. Gaz also knew that Morgan wouldn't entirely relax until he saw a certain familiar face.
"It does feel good to be back," Morgan admitted, "and you're right, we did good. Crew was at their best, no doubt about that."
"Cheers!" Gaz exclaimed as she raised her glass.
Gaz scanned the bar to see who was there. There were a lot of new faces, but that was something one came to expect with a place like this.
-
Sami frowned as she listened to Noah, remembering a long lost memory. "That is what we used to be called. Before we found out that we could become more than one animal. We were called Lycanthropes. Then one of our ancient ancestors found that they could change into whatever they wished, whenever they wished, and from then on we were called Changelings."
Whilst she was talking, Larry had stepped closer to her. She ignored this, until his arm went aroun her waist. This made her skin tingle happily through the cloak, and her heartbeat skipped a beat when he pulled her close to him. He whispered into her ear a question. Sami shook her head. "No threat to us. Just watching."
Sami had realized the girl was just trying to memorize faces, and Sami was making that hard for her. Which would then become hard for Sami later on if they ever needed to help each other with anything and Noah didn't know who she was. She let her face return to normal, tanned skin with brown freckles and a green hue, eyes emerald green again, very close to Noah's own eye color.
-
Al smiled at Jade, "If she's going to be painted anyway, she might as well look good, though, right?"
When Claxter brought his paints over, Al smiled again at the Andalite. "Or we can go old-school. Believe it or not, speed is still my priority here."
He bent closer to Silver and carefully finished dabbing her neck and shoulders. He then stood up and turned to Jade again. "Let me know if you need anything from me," he said with a slight bow and flourish, which he finished by tucking his handkerchief neatly back into his pocket.
-
Noah couldn't help but smile lightly when she watched Larry's arm wrap around Sami's waist. She always thought it was a precious thing to have someone who was willing to protect you with their life for no reason to further themselves. She fought back the thoughts of her past and focused on the moment at hand. She watched as he tried to quietly talk to Sami and shook her head smiling wider. She could hear them clear as day for her hearing was more than human. It would be pointless to whisper across a large room, for she would still hear it. Noah didn't say anything aloud letting him think she didn't hear unless he realized the timing of her reaction. Though her eyes changed focus as Sami's pulse jumped. For a brief second a light flashed through her eyes with the leopard's thought of how that pulse would taste like fluttering candy on her tongue.
Noah blinked and it was gone, but she slipped her glasses back on to be more careful of what she gave away. She let her gaze slide back to Larry with her thoughtful mask back in place.
"I wouldn't dare interfere in anothers relationship. Not my style." She looked back to Sami and questioned her calmly. "Maybe we have the same ancestors and don't even know it. What year are you from?"
-
Sami noticed the flash in Noah's eyes, just before she put her glasses back on, and her heart stopped for a moment as she realized the full danger they could well be in. But she just mentally shrugged off the fear, knowing Noah would be able to smell any. She watched and listened, frowning. Most of what Noah said or asked was so foreign to Sami. She had no idea what Noah was talking about. "Year? What exactly do you mean?" Then she added, "I am sorry for being ignorant to your ways. But I haven't even learned all that much about my ancestors from my village, besides fairy tales," so that she didn't look as big a fool. Hopefully.
-
She smiled lightly, not quite reaching her eyes and responded with a distant thoughtful tone.
"It's alright. I was just wondering if some of my ancestors or maybe some of us from the future came to your planet. Never mind it though." Noah dropped her head and did a mini bow and spread her hands at her side.
"Sorry for coming upon both of you so abruptly." She stood back up looking at them both wondering if they realized how much it took from her to show a moment of vulnerability. She knew at this moment they wouldn't harm her, but she wasn't so foolish to think that couldn't change within a matter of seconds. "I didn't mean to frighten or alarm either of you. Sami's energy caught me off guard more than anything." Noah smiled to herself at an inner thought. 'I'm just waiting for curiosity to kill this kitty.'
-
Larry was listening to everything that Noah was saying, but did not question anything because they seemed to involve Sami only. When Noah had mentioned that she did not wish to interfere with their relationship he did relax some, however he kept his arm around Sami. Her presence so close to him was quite enjoyable and it seemed that Sami enjoyed it as well.
Noah seemed to be genuinely sorry for interrupting their earlier task and Larry saw an opening to continue with that task. He noted that Sami seemed to enjoy Noah's presence because they were so much alike and decided to see if she would like to join them. He spoke in a soft voice, but was loud enough for both women to hear him.
"I apologize for my interruption, but before you arrived Noah, Sami and myself were going to explore the woods. Would you wish to join us in exploring the woods or would the two you prefer to continue conversing here? If you wish to continue conversing here I can create something to lay over the sand for us to sit on."
As he spoke Larry could not resist running his right hand down Sami's right arm down to her hand. He then interlaced her fingers with his and began caressing the palm of her hand with his fingertips. All of this he did very subtly so it would hopefully not attract Noah's attention, but would also not distract Sami too much.
-
Sami's hand twitched a bit at the sudden contact before she slowly wrapped her hand around his fingers, letting him rub her palm. She smiled at Noah, bowing from the waist a bit in respect. "It is quite all right. As Larry says, we were just about to go exploring. Well, I was anyway, before he showed up." She giggled a bit, even though she knew it would show her weakness. She smiled and nodded to Noah. "But would you like to join us? Honestly, I feel safer on this planetoid in the forest, even though it is the reverse of how I felt on my own home world. I was actually thinking about hunting." She wasn't so much before, but she had finally caught on to what Noah was from their conversation, and she linked it with the memory of the flash in Noah's eyes.
-
I awaken on the roof of a building. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and try to assess my situation into pros and cons.
I don't know where I am. That's a pro.
I can't see any Minders around either. Another pro.
I'm still alive, which means I'm out of broadcast distance. That's a BIG pro and a daunting con. The broadcast range of the fail-safe is good for up to 384,400 km. It's been proven enough times to be beyond question.
I'm still outfitted with the equipment I was provided on dispatch. Definite pro. Flame-retardant spider-silk cloak with ceramic nano-weave. Form fitting and 'acquired' from the Chinese Stealth testing facilities. Near invisible if I'm quiet and move slow. Looks like that's the only thing between me and the bullets.
Alchemy-class Coilgun. Nanites alter the make-up of any large enough object into a 2"x4"x8" block of Titanium-Tungsten alloy, using mass acceleration to shave a bullet the size of a grain of sand off the block, decreasing its' its mass and firing the projectile at supersonic velocities. The kinetic force does all the work and ammunition becomes almost a non-issue.
Other then that, two concealed blades in each wrist, sharpened to a molecular level. High density, chemically treated to resist almost any for of corrosion. Med-nanites seem functional, but still by no mean a form of immortality. Crippled limbs would still take at least two day's to mend, spinal injury up to three. Breaks and fractures were anywhere between one-to-six hours to mend, depending on severity.
Standard tactical HUD. Motion sensor with a 20 meter radius, damage assessment, self-adjusting clock, atmospheric analysis, night vision, UV and infra red. Translator up and running. All in all, a basic foreign espionage kit. Nothing on me is made by any one nation. Plausible deniability to all, and to all a good night.
Good. Looks like I'm far enough away to have some semblance of free-will. Should be interesting. Haven't had that for... I can't remember how long now. I'm not even sure if the name I remember is the one I was born with anymore.
First thing's first. Where am I and how long will my freedom last? Next; The fail-safe. I'm going to need tools.
-
Morgan shook his head.
"I have no clue what to say to Silver if I see her."
"About what?" questioned Gaz.
"All of it! What might happen to me and...that Andromeda is gone again. That she was never really back to begin with."
"It's not your fault," Gaz reassured. "No one thought that the Fakes were still in use. CG just keeps showing it's true colors is all."
Morgan was silent. He still was not over the pain of losing his wife all over again. It was worse knowing that she had never been back at all. It had all been a lie.
"At any rate it will take the crew a while to get those fist sized dents out of the wall. Let's take this chance to relax, huh? What else could possibly happen?"
At that moment a tall figure in a figure concealing cloak entered the bar.
-
Noah couldn't help but smile a little brighter, finally touching her eyes. Her leopard was still trying to inch closer to the surface. With each passing moment, her control over her beast began to weaken for she had not fed in at least a couple of days, not fed as a beast anyway. It wasn't a requirement to hunt to maintain control, but it always did help and she had a feeling she would need her control. Her smile faltered a little around the edges as she thought about how she would most likely end up shifting. If she shifts then she will end up passing out when she finally shifts back. She would end up completely defenseless. It'd only be about an hour, maybe less, but it was risky. Noah looked them both up and down trying to truly see how much she could trust them. She had a feeling Sami wouldn't be as likely to turn on her when she was passed out, but Larry, Larry seemed honorable. Though, he might be more likely to turn on her if something doesn't sit right with him. She took a deep breath and let it out closing her eyes and reopening them.
"I would love to go hunting with both of you." Some part of her relaxed that she hadn't realized was tense. Her leopard lay down in the brush waiting, waiting for the moment to be free. She understood it was going to be soon.
-
The figure in the cloak is still laying on his back on the rooftop. He sits up, positioning his legs underneath him and rising to his feet. His HUD shows that there are at least seven people in building beneath his feet, one having just entered. The clock seems to be having trouble adjusting, but since the stranger is clearly nowhere near home, it doesn't surprise him that much. There seems to be a thicket woods not far from the building. It's at that point that new questions begin to form in the strangers' head.
Wait... This definitely isn't Luna if I'm out of reach of the fail-safe. And this can't be Mars. Luna terraforming was only just declared a success last year. Congress only just gave the go-ahead to terraform Mars last month. So where am I...? Nothing can get further than Jupiter and their lucky to have bio-domes. He looks up. No ceiling, just sky. Not a bio-dome. This could be... Interesting.
Carefully and quietly, the stranger walks to the edge of the roof, the blip that just entered the building beneath him giving him a rough guess of where the entrance is. The stranger takes caution dropping silently to the ground below. He doesn't know where he is or what he's dealing with. The last thing he wants is to walk into a building with seven hostile... things.
Things. Really? How does that even make sense?! The stranger surveys the building. It loooks human in design. Of course it's human! What would it be? Aliens? Ghosts? Fairies??? He stop himself. He's thinking... freely. Chastising himself. Let his imagination get carried away...
It feels... good. He finds he's not thinking about the mission. Not thinking about extraction points and how if he misses the rendezvous, they'll trigger the fail-safe. The stranger is... free to think. To speculate and imagine. Without consequence. This can't be a dream... I haven't dreamt in... I don't know how long.
Crouch down, the stranger activates his cloak. He sends the command for it to become skin tight, the hood weaving into his visor to complete the circuit and registering the environment around him to emulate light and movement. The stranger is hard to spot, but not impossible. To anyone who looks closely enough, he looks like heat emanating off the sidewalk in the silhouette of a man. A big man, but a man, nonetheless.
Pity they didn't 'acquire' the finished product. He think to himself. He's wearing the prototype. It only works to cloak the wearer when they're kneeling down or laying on the ground. No one explained to him why, he didn't need to know.
The stranger edges towards the door, opening it a crack and peering in. And sees a Minotaur.
And now he's really confused. And enjoying to ability to be so.
-
Sami smiled as Noah said she would love to hunt, and could feel the air relax a fraction, making it easier for Sami to relax as well. She turned around in Larry's hold. She kissed his cheek gently and pulled back from his grasp. "I am going to go hunting with Noah. I think you should go back to the bar." Her hands pressed against his chest a bit firmly, hoping he wouldn;t question, but just go. Sami could feel the animal within Noah now that she knew what to look for. It wasn't prowling right now, instead it was waiting to be free. But Sami did not want Larry around when it happened. She didn;t doubt that Noah couldcontrol herself, but shedidn't want any acidents.
-
Larry found it odd that the two of them were going to hunt without weapons, but then realized that they were talking about changing into a creature like Sami had done when he first met her. He thought about questioning Sami about it, however the way that she spoke and held her hand against his chest made him realize that she didn't want him to voice those questions.
"All right I will leave you two to your business then." He spoke in his soft tone. He then hugged Sami close to him and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I hope you will not be gone for too long." Larry then pulled back slightly and kissed her on the cheek before taking a small step back from her.
-
Still back in time, in Desmond's ship in orbit:
Parker hears the battle cries of approaching soldiers and decides to hold the next corner; giving Gaz and crew enough time to make it to the shuttle. He withdraws a frag grenade, pulls the pin, and counts to two before throwing the ‘nade down the corridor. The cries get louder as they approach Parker’s position. Suddenly the cries end with an explosion as the frag grenade explodes. Parker takes the opportunity to whip around the corner and take out a few soldiers with quick bursts from his rifle before retreating around the corner again. As the soldiers recover and regroup, they begin another volley of fire at the corner they saw Parker run past. Again, after a few moments of uninterrupted fire, the same voice calls out, “HOLD!” The fire ceases and again, they realize Parker had run off. “Dammit, he’s gone again!” They cry again and resume the chase. Parker makes his final turn and sees the shuttle that Gaz and the crew of The Cursed Pride had come in on, was gone.
Parker stood staring at the airlock absolutely stunned. They left without him. Parker shook his head realizing he just had to get to an escape pod. Then he could get back to the bar. Before he turns to find one, the ship begins to shake and Parker feels a weird sensation. The strange feeling is not unlike going into Slipspace. A feeling he remembers having the last time he was on Gaz's ship when they went to Gaz's universe. He looks out of the airlock and sees… nothing.
Not a single star, not even the vacuum of space, just nothing. Complete whiteness, almost as though Space itself were erased. He drops his Battle Rifle to the ground in shock. “White”… Gaz had mentioned this before. I… I just never knew what it looked like. He knows the only way the ship could go into Z-Space without orders from Desmond, is if Gaz somehow rigged the ship. If Gaz did indeed rig the ship, it’s unlikely that she would have left a trace of the Bar’s coordinates in the system. He had lost them. He had lost her… Silver, gone forever.
Breaking his trance of disbelief and anguish, he could hear the thunderous sounds of boots behind him. The CG soldiers had caught up to him and had created a wall behind him; pinning him between the airlock and their guns. Some soldiers took a knee to steady their aim, some stood while keeping him in their sights. All they could see was the back of a walking tank, a "man" that had single-handedly slayed so many of their friends, reach his arm to his thigh; and as he turned his head, he extended his energy sword.
-
Noah averted her eyes by looking back toward the bar to give them a private moment. She noticed a man go invisible before her eyes. Her eyes widened and took a step back without realizing it. She reclaimed the step and stood her ground. Noah shook her head thinking she was going crazy. She looked back toward Larry and Sami and pulled off her glasses revealing her forest green eyes once more. She spoke to Larry before he got a chance to leave.
"Could I ask a favor of you?" She said in a sweet tone, but not flirting, nor pleading. Noah slipped off her black jacket to reveal her two daggers in their sheaths on her forearms and a shoulder rig that they couldn't see what it was holding yet. She folded the jacket, slipped off the daggers, and placed them both on the ground. Noah took off the rig to reveal a short sword as long as her torso and dropped in on the growing heap. She pulled off her black boots with a silver buckle on the side one at a time. When she pulls off the right one the pants are bunched up around a Beretta 84fs cheetah strapped to her ankle. She pulls off the gun and strap off her ankle and adds it to the pile. She takes off her lace necklace, leather belt with lace trim, and lace fingerless gloves and added it to top off the pile. All stripped of her weapondry and extra clothes she was left with a black long sleeve shirt, dark bellbottom jeans, and barefoot.
She picked up the pile without dropping anything with a guilty smile on her lips. "Could you look after my stuff?" She knew she didn't know him that well and having him as a pack mule was a mean thing to ask since she was robbing him of time with the one he adores. She knew she could hide it in the forest but was truly nervous it would get stolen.
-
Serid stops short as he reaches the Bar's door, finding a man watching through the crack between its weathered edge and the door jamb. "Pardon me," he murmurs with a polite nod, pushing the door open.
Another human, the Andalite nothlit thinks, giving him a curious glance. Strange how uncommon they appear to be around here at times... although his clothing and equipment is anything but customary.
Serid slips through the door and holds it open for the man, staring past him in an attempt to find Ossanlin.
-
Vogefac was listening to Claxter, sorry that he should be stuck with such outdated equipment. But then Artemis began to stir, and he followed the slightly large group as they all gathered around her bed.
"Artemis, are you alright?", he asked. The Android said something about paint...Vogefac silently wondered how paint was relevant in the present situation, but said nothing.
Catie opened her mouth, but found nothing was coming out...she had no real plans. She figured any place offered more adventure than the Urtahn's medbay. But, nothing had happened since she arrived. She got into an argument with the guy who Ogreon told to look out for her, ad they had gone their separate ways. She'd spent a good few minutes searching for Van and Ewa. And now she was sitting on a couch having a conversation with Ewa waiting for Van to...finish whatever business he had.
"You know...that's a good question. I figured there'd be adventure and missions just waiting for me...maybe that's just how my universe works. Even autonomous ships like the Urtahn have some good adventures. And I'm always stuck in sickbay, as that lieutenant over there...", she thought long and hard. But she couldn't think of anything to do.
"I hope Van's done soon so I can give him the message.", she tried to change the subject.
-
Zorish watches Eshen curiously as she seems to lose focus on the conversations around them. The way that she is acting is not entirely unfamiliar to the Sub-Visser, and he leans forward, fixing Tamora's intent gray eyes on those of Eshen's host.
"Is your host attempting to resist you?" he asks curiously. There is no malice in his tone, towards Eshen or her host - merely intrigue. "Has she not yet realized how fruitless such efforts are? Or is she new?"
Zorish's questions are interrupted by Jocun's arrival and he waves half-heartedly towards the empty chairs. "Sure, sit down. We've got plenty of spaces to spare, so long as you aren't here to continue meddling with my affairs."
Efaen's main eyes tighten slightly at the words of her Prince, but she does her best to avoid otherwise indicating that she has heard him. <<I will not be reckless, my Prince,>> she says stiffly in response. <<I wish only to help my People in the most effective manner.>> One stalk eye trails towards the pool room where she is sure Terenia must be, noting that she has been strangely silent for once. <<Prince Ossanlin, this procedure that I have agreed to assist you with. It will not be harmful for me, correct?>> She does her best to keep the anxiety out of her thoughts, but after witnessing Ossanlin ascend once she is nervous.
-
Jocun takes a seat next to Eshen. "Thank you. Though meddling isn't quite the word I would use for my attempts to help you. even if what I said weren't the things you wanted to hear."
He turns his attention back to Eshen, waiting for her to respond. he doesn't comment when Zorish said such things were fruitless, even though he disagreed to an extent. She was partly correct in that Humans didn't have the force of will to completely break a Yeerk's control like a Taxxon could. However, resisting does bring attention to a problem that many Yeerks have been trying to rectify. He didn't want to get into an argument, but rather wanted to help the situation.
-
Sami nodded gratefully at Larry's quick understanding. Her cheeks flushed with a light pink as he kissed her cheek, but she let it fade quickly. She turned back around after Larry stepped back to see that Noah had stripped off her weapons and extra clothing. She handed it all to Larry, and asked him to keep it safe. She smiled at Noah, looking her over in her long sleeve shirt and jeans. She could see the woman's lithe figure now, and she nodded in appreciation. Noah was built well enough to defend herself, but not overly built. Just right. Sami had a thing for well built girls, but she was definitely not going to voice that to Noah or Larry, and wasn't going to let it show. She instead played it off as examining her weapons. "Nice array you have there. I know you have two daggers and a sword, but I do not know what the other one is."
-
She smiled at Larry and turned back to Sami to answer her question.
"Simply put, its a gun with silver ammunition. All the blades have a high silver content as well." She didn't want to go into great depth about the silver for it would give away that her weapons were a double edged sword for her to use. Silver made lycanthropes heal human slow and in most cases that meant death. Noah turned back to Larry one last time and voiced her warning.
"Don't play with any triggers or nobs or anything that may intrigue you. I will know if you mess with any of my weapons, the gun especially." She didn't want to tell him that she would smell it on her weapons if he played with them enough. Not to meantion her blades were all extremely sharp and blood is a hard smell to miss.
She wiggled her toes in the dirt, getting a feeling for the ground she was gonna walk on. She kicked a pebble lightly and smiled. She raised her arms in a great yawn stretching all of her 5'5" form. Her shirt raised enough to show her pale tanned belly button. She wiggled her body to loosen up for the next adventure then looked at Sami eyes brighter with things to come.
"Ready."
-
Larry made a small bow to Noah and replied "Of course I can look after your stuff Noah. I give you my word that no damage shall be inflicted on your possesions, nor will I tamper with them in any way." in his soft voice. He reached out and took the pile of weapons and clothing from Noah. He did his best to not make it obvious that he was refusing to look at the lithe figure of the woman, however he knew that with their enhanced senses he had probably failed.
"Is there anything you would wish for me to hold onto as well, my love?" He asked Sami in his soft voice. He called Sami 'My love' to hopefully let her know that his refusal to look at Noah was because he was truly dedicated to her.
-
Sami grinned happily at Noah. The females were never allowed to hunt on her planet, but she had done if from time to time, receiving a good whipping afterwards. She blushed at Larry's words and nodded, pulling the cloak off of herself to reveal her naked form. "It will just get shredded if I wear it." Then she gently pushed Larry in the direction of the bar, smiling at him. She began to loosen up her own body as well, stretching her 5'4" body fully upwards, then bending over to hear her back crack. "Oh! That's been bothering me since I got here." She slowly stood, trying not to induce a head rush, especially with her healing head wound. She waited a bit impatiently for Larry to leave.
-
Larry took the cloak from Sami, however unlike their first meeting Larry took the time to admire Sami's now nude figure. He smiled and gave a short bow before saying "I wish you luck in your hunting ladies and I anxiously await your return" in his soft voice to the both of them.
As he turned to walk back to the bar Larry folded the cloak on top of Noah's clothing and weapons. Unfortunately the shifting of the cloak caused the rose that Larry had presented to Sami when they first met to fall out and onto the ground. Larry continued walking toward the bar, for he had not taken notice of the falling flower.
-
The stranger is stunned when Serid excuses himself, walking out the door. Looking at his hands a moment, the stranger realises why; He'd sent the command for the cloak to fit form, but not to actually cloak him. He was still visible.
How did I even make that mistake? He thinks to himself. Surely my situation hasn't changed so greatly that I've forgotten all of my training. The stranger attempts to think back on his training and finds his memory to be particularly blurry in many areas. Yes, he remembers basics and names, but it's like the scope of his experiences has been taken from him. Almost like a...
Reboot. Which can only mean...
The stranger watches as the man calmly walks away. No hint of recognition or hostility.
"What th3 h3ll, l00ks like I'm a d3ad ma-... D3ad n0 matt3r what." The stranger murmurs to himself, standing to full height. The stranger his an imposing 7'5" with broad shoulders and a slender, toned physique. The jet-black cloak, having been commanded to become form-fitting, covers all of his body revealing only shape and outline. His amber visor hides all facial features.
Taking his chances, the stranger walks through the door and enters what appears to be a bar.
-
Noah watched how they reacted toward each other and wished she had someone to react to like they do. She let that thought float away from her mind and addressed Sami.
"I'll strip down the rest of my clothes in the forest. I do need something to change back into but don't feel quite comfortable undressing here." She begins to walk toward the grass off the beaten path around them. She rolled her shoulders back feeling odd not to have the presence of her weapons strapped to her body. She felt lighter and more agile, but maybe that was just the leopard preparing her for the hunt. Noah looked over her shoulder to see if Sami was nearby and stopped to let her take the lead.
-
Keshin frowns as he notes the stranger that's entered the Bar. The cloak makes it impossible to determine what his features are or even why he came in. He'd heard several decent targets for information speak, but many of them have left the Bar. New people only seemed to bring trouble to this place, but it was worth a shot.
<You sure, Kess?>
<No. No, not even close to being sure.>
Keshin wanders up towards the stranger and states tentatively, "I bid you welcome to the Bar. I am an entrepeneur of sorts, called Keshin. But that's not important right now. What is your name?"
****************************************************************************************
Mar grins, noting Salem's attempts with pleasure. The trader wasn't a natural, but he also wasn't a moron. He'd worked out one of the basic tenets of the warlock's Art. "You're beginning to understand. My magic is emotion-based. What you feel can be brought to life, even unwillingly when you have strong affinity. The more motivation is put into your attempts, the greater your odds of success. I should..."
Mar suddenly grasps his chest, cursing. He was losing it fast now, but Salem should still have a point to work with. "Ach. I hate being so useless. You may do what you choose: stop or continue."
-
The stranger regards Keshin for a moment, taking in his question and not entirely sure how to answer him. There's no way to tell who is who and what is what here, let alone if anyone knows or is looking for him. He eventually settles on the decision to use the name that he thinks used to be his own. Chances are no one will be looking for him under that title. They probably don't even expect him to remember his name.
"M1cha3l." He answers. "My nam3 is M1cha3l. I am an... Insuranc3 Sal3sman of sorts. And you ar3?"
((OOC: The way anyone listening would hear this is "Em-one-kah-three-el. My naym-three is Em-one-kah-three-el. I am an... Insuran-see-three Sail-threes-man of sorts. And you ar-three?" It won't be permanent or drawn out for long.))
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin continues watching as the conversation seems to drag to a halt of sorts. He sends another private thought to Efaen. <<The risks to you will be no more than the same risks you undertake every time you use any morph.>>
-
~The Polkaris~
A smile tugged at Ewa's lips for a brief moment. "Well, he's not the only one who needs to finish." Her expression settled back into serious thoughtfulness. "Nor am I aware of how long they were planning on taking."
Ewa met Catie's eyes, her manner polite and matter-of-fact, but something behind her eyes twinkled with mirth and challenge. "We could check in on him, if you like. It may not be an adventure, exactly, but I think it would certainly be an interesting way to meet people."
Although part of Ewa thought that introducing Catie in and into a rather awkward circumstance would be good fun, a more practical part of her voiced its disapproval. I don't like the idea of exposing Van to more people while he's still drugged.... or whatever. Rathien had been angry at her accusations, and while that didn't entirely mitigate her suspicions, she did have to consider the possibility that Van might just be more.... distractible.... than she had given him credit for. On the plus side, they really ought to both be naked by now. But she wasn't sure she wanted to interrupt Rathien if he was already mad at her. Even if he was naked. With Van. Mmm.....
-
Jade
She said nothing but thanked Claxter for the paint. As soon as Silver was sanatized she dippedher fingers into the paint and began painting runes and intricate symbols along the forhead neck and shoulder. Once that was done she stood back and ****ed her fingers into difficult positions for anyone untrained. She began to chant in her language and the paint began to glow. She did this until the paint faded away. Then she relaxed and Silver stirred and slowly opened her eyes.
-
The spike of embarrassment that rolls through Mike's mind is accompanied by a hasty, <<Yeah, yeah, of course. We just met. Sorry, bloody hell, I...>> He falls silent, attempting to think of anything neutral. Flashes of random and innocent thoughts flicker through his consciousness.
Reven nods at Derrel, a small ghost of a smile creeping across his expression. "Yes, of course you would be well taken care of, Derrel," he replies to the human. "If my brothers recommend you and Illim, I will trust their judgment, however you must both be made aware that the same rules that apply to Efaen will apply to you." He shifts his weight and glances at the visage of his brother's host briefly, before continuing. "I cannot reiterate enough: If you join us, you will not be able to return to your old life on Earth, Derrel, for the duration of the war. Do you understand? This is a militia, and while we welcome refugees, you will be expected to work."
-
Present day:
A medium-sized ship appears above the small planetoid. It's silhouette resembles that of a shark without its dorsal fin. It's smooth siding is tinted dark as the space around it. The only way to truly see it is to see the lack of stars behind it. The ship settles into a low orbit above the planetoid.
"Sir, we've established orbit over a small planetoid."
The captain sits reclining askew in the rigid commander's seat."Yeah, yeah. Scan for life, blah blah blah and all that."
"Yes sir." Do you have to sound so depressed about it? "Sir, scans show only one establishment, full of life signs, surrounded by active and destroyed ships. Sir... I think we've found it, sir."
The captain sits up and on the edge of his seat. He yells, "Display scan results onscreen!"
"Yes sir." The pilot manipulates his console and the image of the planetoid shows on the screen. It shows a lone building, surrounded by forestry. A lake is adjacent to the bar, inside a clearing amongst the trees. Behind the building is a ship graveyard where a great battle had played out. In front, the parking lot pock-marked with ships, both in use and defunct.
The captain stands and walks to the display. He puts his green-gauntleted hand on the image of the bar and a tear falls from his eye.
"Silver."
-
<Silver. Are you ok?> Claxter said. <You are among friends.> He felt he needed to say that last part in case she was surprised to see unfamiliar faces. <Thank you both for your assistance.>
"I didn't have much of a life on Earth anyway." Derrel said. "I'll do my best to pull my own weight. Which should improve over time." He said jokingly. He was pretty skinny now, so he didn't currently weigh much. "I'm not leaving behind anything worth missing, sir."
-
The cloaked figure ordered a drink and sat a table. Nearby, Gaz and Morgan were having their conversation. Something in the talk caught the stranger's attention and he stood up and approached the two.
"Did I hear this fair lady call you Morgan?"
Gaz made a face. "Fair lady?!"
Morgan turned slowly, lately anyone who had come looking for him was also looking for trouble.
"yeah, that's my name. What's it to ye?"
"You wouldn't happen to be Odysseus 'the poet' Morgan, would you?"
That made Morgan stand up in surprise. "There's only one person who called me that! Julian, is that really you?"
"The one and only!" Julian announced as he removed the cloak.
Julian was a little over six feet in height wearing trousers and a sleeveless shirt. That was not the unusual bit. His legs curved at the bottom and ended in solid hooves instead of feet. His torso was human looking enough and in good shape. His head, however, was the head of a horse. He was a chestnut color all over and his mane was cut close like a crew cut.
At the sight of Julian, Gaz nearly choked on her drink. And her she thought knowing Morgan would have her prepared for everything.
-
Vogefac nodded to Claxter, assuming the gratitude was directed toward him. He leaned over to see if Artemis would answer Claxter.
Catie made an awkward, disgusted face at the thought of barging in on Van's...barging in on Van.
"Um...let's not. I'm not in the mood to barge in on such...activities.", she laughed nervously.
-
Silver looked around and seeing everyone aroundher she freaked a little a slight wind picking up around get as a protective measure until she heard Vogefacand Claxter and she calmed and the wrong died away.
Jade watched curiously interested in how she worked her magick and not having to use runes or spells.
-
The captain snapped out of his trance and quickly turned to exit the bridge.
"Sir, what are your orders?"
"Stay here. If I need you, I'll call."
"Yes sir."
As the captain passes his chair, he grabs his helmet and replaces it upon his head. The Metallic flames emanating from its crown shine and the amber visor flashes with new vigor at the prospect of being reunited with his love. He approaches the ladder to descend to the shuttle, grabs the sides of the ladder and slides down. He enters the shuttle and powers up its engines. The shuttle exits from under the head of the shark-shaped ship, and makes its way towards the planetoid.
-
Sami smiled softly, nodding her thanksto Noah as the woman let her take the lead. She led her far back enough into the forest to where the trees began to thicken so that Noah would have privacy, and even turned her gaze from the woman. She did voice a fear, though. "Noah, I do not mean to be rude or doubt your abilities to control yourself, but may I watch you shift before I do? I would like to know your size and power, that way I may be able to change into something that will stand up to you. I mean it in no offensive way to you, I just... I can control myself in forms, but you... I can tell that you take on the beast when you shift, and that it has control. So I ould like to be able to arm myself." She blushed deeply, thankful that she was facing away from Noah. She let her voice show concern, butnot any weakness, along with curiosity.
-
Salem briefly opened his eyes at Mar's cursing, then closed them again. He didn't really understand why Mar's time with this ability was short- something to do with the being's connection to his greater mass, but the details were fuzzy. He was, however, starting to sense his urgency.
"If you need me to stop, I'll stop, Highest, but I'm so close... I can feel it..." he continued searching in the dark for the light- his 'soul' that he was supposed to be lifting into there air. "There!" he exclaimed quietly. He could get a look at it. It wasn't like looking down at one's own body. It was more a sense of feeling its presence than of sight, but either one would be apt. The trick seemed to be that its location was actually within himself. It had to be something he was open and willing to sense, as with the tendrils- but this one felt different. Warmer, perhaps?
Heh. Soul searching.
"Emotion-based... it's a little like being plugged into my ship," he said, not really expecting a response. "Only the ship is logical, and it tries to order things- this is more like art. I wonder how Al would do at this..." He cut himself off- maybe speaking aloud was helping him concentrate, but he suddenly felt silly doing so in front of Mar.
He took the tendril he'd been holding- he was beginning to get to the point where he didn't even need to think about it to keep it under control. It was still strange, unwieldy, but if he took his time with this...
He carefully took it and slid it alongside the light he'd seen. He tried twice to bend it before deciding he was thinking too hard. He let out a deep breath, relaxed, and tried to simply let it curl itself around the light. It did, to some degree. Nowhere near as precise as what Mar had done, but at least it was doing something. At the same time, he felt what seemed like a blast of arctic air straight through his heart. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, but as with the pain in his back and his skull, he tried to push the feeling down and simply be in the moment.
He attempted to move the shape. "Ah!" he yelped. He opened his eyes and found himself skidding a few inches sideways along the floor of the ship, and stumbling to keep his balance. He laughed and shook his head, "Not sure what I was expecting." Closing his eyes again, he tightened the grip of the tendril slightly- the feeling of an icy blast within him seemed to increase slightly- and took another breath. Gently, he thought. Don't need another head injury today. He raised the tendril slightly.
Even though he'd been ready for it, it was still a shock to feel his feet actually leave the floor of the ship. He opened his eyes and found himself floating about six inches off the ground, drifting lazily towards one of the shelves. He tried to feel where the tendril was without closing his eyes... it was there, but sight was still too big of a distraction. He closed his eyes again and tried to move the 'light' up and sideways. He could tell he was moving. He could tell how far he'd moved when his head hit the ceiling of the ship with a loud thud! He began attempting to correct, in spite of the new ringing in his ears...
And suddenly, his feet caught on the very shelf he'd been watching out for. He was now well above it in altitude, but it managed to grab his boot and flip him sideways. In his surprise, he opened his eyes and lost track of the tendril- he could feel it snap back to its own business, and away from the 'light.' And now he was falling... all six feet to the ship's floor, his feet dragging several of his alien collectibles with him. He fell face-first, but managed to mostly catch himself on his hands- though he could feel his wrist twist as he landed with an unintentionally comical "Oof!", pain shooting through his arm. Junk from his shelf continued to crash down around him for the next few seconds.
He sat back up, holding his wrist and gritting his teeth. Within a few seconds, though, his grimace had changed to a grin. That was flying! Or... almost. Sort of.
He turned his grin to Mar, "So flying's a dangerous sport."
Al watched Jade's 'ceremony' with interest. He'd always found magic fascinating, though he'd never been terribly good at the real stuff himself. Silver started a mini-windstorm for a few moments... that was awesome. Good thing she'd decided to stop, though, or things might have gotten messy in here.
He leaned back against a console. He smiled at Silver, "Hey. Long time no see. How you feelin'?"
-
She followed Sami, eyes constantly wandering about looking at the beautiful forest. Where she lived, the forest wasn't as lush with green. Not as thick with trees. When they got far enough in, she found a patch of bushes and walked over toward them jumping over tree roots with grace. She stood behind them and looked in her direction when she began to speak. She smiled meekly and nodded, but realized she couldn't see so Noah spoke.
"I understand, really I do. I have some control but until I feed, it will be a little wild." She undressed herself quickly not worrying how much she was hidden from Sami and hid her clothes in the bush. Then covered them with leaves to hide her scent from roaming creatures. Noah walked out from behind the bushes without feeling embarrassed and closed the distance from other girl, but stayed about 8 feet away. As a wereleopard, she didn't fuss over nudity, she preferred it, but kept clothes on and respected their wishes for it. Though, when she slept over with others from her pard, they slept naked in a pile of kittens for the sense of safety and comfort.
"Alright, I'm ready" She sounded completely relaxed, even relieved. Her auburn hair was long enough that it covered her breasts but stopped short of her belly button. Though, everything else was free to see. Noah took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she tasted the forest air. She opened her eyes blindly, her leopard stalking behind them peering out to the world. The leopard saw its chance and came out of that creeping walk to run full speed down the path with her coming ever closer to the surface. Noah saw out of her eyes one last time and smiled happily before her beast lept through the water-like surface within her to show itself to the world.
Noah screamed to let go of the pain from the bone breaking, muscle taring experience as her body re knit itself into a leopard. Her spine-tingling scream turned into a roar of sorts as her body fell to the ground. Power burst from her body like fire to the skin, yet it felt like something that you could wrap yourself in and feel safe. Her hands grew claws, her jaw lengthened, fangs formed with the mouth, a tail sprouted, cat ears sprang from her scalp. Then her skin tore to reveal her red orange fur like fire. She had two black likes on her face, one on each cheek bone running from her ears to her nose. The rest of her 6 foot long body was spotted black in random patterns. She went up to Sami's waist while on all fours. There was a puddle beneath her paws of a clear goop that came off her body when she shifted that surrounded her about 6 feet out. Though, mysteriously, her fur was always dry after she changed.
Noah growled quietly and walked over to Sami with slow steps that took an obvious amount of effort to put one paw in front of the other, though it was strangely graceful. She collapsed at her feet panting, and lay her large head on her paws. Shifting was always painful, but it was worse if you resisted it. She watched Sami out of her calm leopard green eyes, having them finally fit the form she was in. Noah watched Sami as she caught her breath. She could still talk, but it always had a growl to it and sounded strange to the ear to hear, but at the moment she was just too out of breath to waste air on talking.
-
Illim waits for Derrel to finish before sliding back into control.
"Illim here again," the Yeerk says, causing Derrel's voice to migrate into a more casual tone. "I understand, too. Quarantine and mistrust and memory dumps. Whatever it takes for you guys. If Myitt's caution is anything to go by, it'll probably be all three."
He smirks and shakes his head briefly. "Trust me, I'm just glad to be moving in the right direction. To actually have a chance to do something."
-
Sami nodded thankfully and turned to see Noah standing there naked like she herself was. Her face felt hot as a blush lit up her cheeks, but Noah wasn't paying any attention. Sami could feel the beast within her as it began its journey to freedom, jerking backwards at her sudden screaming. She almost fel over a tree root as she stood there, rooted with fear. She had never seen or heard a transformation like this. It was so jerky and sudden, ass opposed to the gracefulness with which she could shift. Her eyes and mouth were wide with horror as she tried to cover her ears from the sound of breaking bones.
Noah finally stood there in full cat form, a large puddle of silvery goo at her feet. She began walking towards Sami, whom was still rooted with fear. She tried not to pass out from it as Noah got right up next to her, trying also not to breathe a sigh of relief when Noah collapsed beside her. She looked down at the woman, now large cat, trying to smile and regain control of her own body. She pet Noah's head lightly before stumbling away to make her own transformation.
She got a vision in her head of something about the same size as Noah, but a bit more powerfully built, letting her fears wash over her to help with the creative process. She took bits and pieces of animals from her home world and knit them together before focusing on the big picture in her mind. Slowly, she began the transformation.
The bones in her legs began to reverse, while her arms lengthened a bit and did the same, falling to all fours gracefully. Popping and regrinding of the bones could be heard, but it was faint, nothing like Noah's experience. Her body was completely reformed to that of a large predator before anything else began. Slowly, she sprouted blazingly white fur all across her body, her face elongating into a powerful muzzle, teeth popping in her skull to elongate into feline teeth in a canine mouth. A tail ruptured from her rear end, long and cat like, but bushy like a canine. Her eyes turned a mixture of yellow and green, her large paws sprouting needle like claws.
In her new form, Sami looked like a cross between a large wolf, and a large cat of some sort. She turned to face Noah, sniffing at her warily to make sure everything was fine, before gently padding over to her with feline grace and silence, and the power of the wolf.
-
Noah opened her mouth to let the smell of her fear on the air flow down her throat like fine wine. She nuzzled against Sami's hand, a little aggressively, it was the best she could do to stop from taking a bite out of her. She let her walk away with some strain, desperately wanting to pounce and rip away the flesh to reveal the sweeter fluid. She lay her head back on her paws and watched as she seamlessly transformed, in the back of her mind thinking. Why can't mine be so painless?
She cringed her nose to the new scent on the air. It smelled of wolf, but it wasn't as bad as the pure thing. She could endure it, as long as she didn't get in her way. The leopard had a one track mind and two goals. Stay alive, but feed. Noah stood up having finally caught her breath during the show. She stood as tall as she could go on all fours, like sizing up to her component though being passive about it. She walked in a slow stalking circle around the creature eyeing it from all angles then stood before it and simply nodded her large head.
-
Silver looked around assessing where she was then looked to Al. "I've been better obviously." She said and managed to smile. She sat up slowly and mentally checked herself. It was then she realized she had not eaten or drank anything in a long time and her stomach confirmed that with a loud growl.
-
<Are you hungry, Silver? I can order some meat and drink and bring it back. You may want to remain in my ship until you are confident in your recovery.> Claxter said.
-
Sami held her ground, but not in an aggressive way. She knew what cats were like, and how territorial they could be. So she showed that she could handle herself, standing up to her full height, maybe an inch taller than Noah, her long busy tail flicking back and forth warily. Her ears were perked up, though, large like a wolf's, but pointed and wider like a cat's. her yellow-green eyes watched Noah, but she did not dare stare directly into her eyes. She saw Noah give her the nod of her head before turning around and padding off into the forest, her white coat standing out like a large patch of moving snow. She wanted to be easily seen by Noah, that way she could not surprise her. She didn't want any accidents while hunting.
-
"Julian, you scoundrel! Sit down and have something to drink."
Julian grinned. "Can't say no to an offer like that."
Gaz was impressed on the effect Julian's appearance was having on Morgan. Having his old friend around seemed to be doing the Captain some good. Though in all the stories about Julian, his personal appearance had never come up. Had he been a CG victim as well? Though Morgan hadn't said anything about it. Maybe it was a sensitive subject.
"I had heard about what happened," Julian said. "I'm glad to see you got away from that."
"I found my daughter, Julian," Morgan said.
Julian's eyes widened. "My goddaughter? Get out of town! She's alive?"
Morgan nodded. "Found her here as a matter of fact. Actually it would be more appropriate to say she found me. I haven't seen her since I arrived back here."
"She'll turn up," Julian reassured. "She better turn up. I want to catch up with my godchild!"
-
Silver placed her hands onto her stomach with an apologetic look. "Sorry. Yeah I'm hungry." She said then turned to Claxter and listened to his proposal. She took one look around and but her lower lip. "No offense, my friend, but I think I've spent enough time on ships and medical bays....if you wish you cold assist me to the bar....but if I stay here I may panic..." She said with a nervous look trying to surpress memories.
-
<Right. Of course. I'll help you to the bar.> Claxter said, and stood by the bed so she could lean on him.
Jocun glanced around the room while waiting for the controller to compose herself, and noticed there was another half animal creature that was familiar with the first one he saw. How very strange.
-
<<It's okay,>> Terenia says awkwardly, her own uneasiness over the situation not doing anything to help Mike. She can feel the tips of his ears turning red at their combined embarrassment. <<It's no big deal,>> she mutters, trying to turn her focus back to the issue at hand. Reven seems to have turned his sights on Illim and Derrel, though, and she finds herself paying only half attention.
<<Mike,>> she says at last, giving up on focusing. <<Corliss. Earlier. He said...>> she winces mentally, struggling to keep the expression from manifesting itself physically. <<He told me he loved me.>> How long ago had that been? A day? A few hours? Impossible to tell - but it had been on the heels of her grief over Tammy and, at the time, all she could do was push him away as violently as possible. Then she had been stuck in the pool; stuck alone for hours with nothing to do but think and allow that uneasy conversation to settle in her mind. <<He's not...he wasn't really serious, right? I mean, he's a freaking Yeerk. I'm...well, yeah, I'm a Yeerk but...but it's different. And besides that isn't how it works.>> Curiously, tentatively, she peeks into his memories, wondering if they will provide the answers she is looking for.
<<Very well,>> Efaen says, still clearly loathe to help Terenia in any way. She shifts impatiently as Reven finishes his conversation with her. <<I suspect we will be able to make the final arrangements and depart soon, my Prince.>>
Zorish drums his fingers on the table, Tamora's nails clacking against the grimy surface. When Eshen does not immediately respond he assumes that she is still fighting for control. He turns his sideways glance to Jocun. "I'm not sure I've seen a host that resilient before," he comments mildly. "Usually they give in after a moment or two."
-
"Well, some Yeerks aren't exactly the bastions of iron will." He said quietly, leaning a little towards Zorish so Eshen might not blatantly overhear a possible insult. "Also some Humans just don't give up easily. They can be one of the more stubborn species. Not every case is exactly the same. So, have you made any new friends while you stay? Enjoying the place any while you search for answers to your future?"
-
The shuttle flies over the bar and settles by a strange, small ship. The ship resembles that of others in its vacinity, like Myitt's vehicle, but more compact. The captain parks his shuttle behind the compact fighter and cloaks the shuttle. The cloak isn't perfect, as it's a prototype, but hopefully this shiny, new fighter will distract others from seeing the shimmer of the hidden shuttle. The captain steps out of the shuttle, seemingly appearing from nothing. He stands tall at 7' 5", his body covered in a green metallic armor. The armor from the chest up resembles that of ancient samurai in fashion, but only subtlely, as the core design is still based on the MJOLNIR MARK VI. He holds his helmet in his hands, ready to put it on at any moment of hostility. The green helmet has an amber visor molded in a way that the wearer appears to be constantly glaring threatening. From the crown, silver metallic flames seem to emanate upward, completing the most intimidating look of the armor.
Though with his helmet off, his now longer, light brown hair barely touches his neck plate. He has green eyes that glow with a golden tint, that stand out from his pale white skin; though it is somewhat darkened with a 5 o' clock shadow.
He scans the parking lot, looking for any sign of his beloved.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods to Efaen, hoping Reven's impatience would eventually get the best of him to terminate the transmission. It would be rude to vacate beforehand. <<I do hope so, there are some things we must discuss.>>
Ossanlin feels another twinge of energy from a different direction, this feels nearly identical to Mar's unique signature. He worries a bit for his friend, but he's still stuck until the transmission ends.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _____________
~Rathien~
Rathien draws his eyebrows down and removes the knife from Van's wasteband. "Beryllian...Berylli an, are you conscious?" He looks at Van's eyes and notices a somewhat glazed look. Had he been drugged? It certainly seems that way, but Rathien had not done anything and he'd not seen Van do anything to himself...he hopes the being will snap out of the trance soon...conquering sedated prey was not worth the effort.
-
Noah followed behind not too close, so her nose wasn't suffocated by Sami's scent. She trotted (like a jog), through the forest ears perked up attentively listening to any rustling of leaves or sounds of life. She listened to the small birds chirpping their little songs to each other, and the fluttering of feathers, but no sounds of any creature larger. She continued to get deeper within the forest and finally heard a small shuffling sound, then silence. She froze dead in her step, paw hovering over the ground. Noah got low to the ground letting her body go utterly still hoping Sami would get the memo to be very still and silent, though, she truly hoped she had heard.
After at least two minutes, the shuffling was heard again and this time she turned her head to the left quick enough to see dark brown fur dash through some brush. And like that she was off. She used her natural speed to chase down the animal and still avoided stray branches and large rocks. It hadn't gotten 20 ft before she swiped the small creature with her great paw knocking it away from a hole in the ground that, from the smell of it, was her home. The creature tumbled along the dirt until Noah caught back up and was pinning it with one paw, claws out and almost piercing its flesh. Her head was only two inches away before she finally got a good look at it. It seemed to be a cross between a hare and a gopher. It was dark brown with legs like a rabbit on a slightly smaller body, with short ears that resembled a rabbits. She sniffed the air above the animal and could smell its fear as it struggled under her paw. Noah screamed her frustration coming out as a cross between a hiss and a roar from those few inches away. The animal panicked and its heart sped with it as it tried desperately to get away. She released it and went off in search for larger prey for that was too small to satisfy any part of her. She needed something at least the size of an antelope, maybe a monkey, but a bunny wouldn't satisfy a hunger such as hers.
-
Sami heard the rustling that Noah heard, dismissing it with a flick of her ears as she slowed and softened her steps, keeping absolutely quiet, not brushing anything. She heard Noah take off a few moments later, then heard the roar of frustration. Sami sighed inwardly as she kept on moving, scenting along as she went. She heard rustling all about her, but it was small rustling, so she dismissed each with the flick of her ears, or a flick of her tail. She stalked through the undergrowth silently, green-yellow eyes shining in the semi-darkness from the close treetops.
A sound above her, something large enough to shake branches. Sami was up the tree in a flash, deftly climbing it with feline grace. She reached the animal just as it was soaring through the air to another tree, jumping across with it and landing on the branch with it, one paw swiping out to catch it. She hit its flank, making it stumble and fall from the tree with a cry. Sami jumped down beside it, finding a monkey like animal, but with about six arms. It was the size of a small person, about 4 or maybe 4 and a half feet tall. Sami pinned it down, watching blood pour from its flank, and waited for Noah to come. Surely she would, after hearing a stunt like that.
-
The second she heard Sami start up the tree, Noah turned around and headed back her way in enough time to watch her land with the injured animal. She smiled, though it came out as an aggressive baring of teeth. The scent of fresh blood and fear was heavy on the air. Her eyes fell on the creature to see it wounded but still able to fight, just the way she liked it. Noah could no longer control or fight back. The leopard raced toward the fallen prey and without asking permission from the greater predator she attacked it more, provoking it to fight more. She slashed it across the chest for a fresh wave of blood and it squirmed more all hands beating her. Noah jumped away and pounced again this time striking at the neck. She took a few more hits, but sank her teeth into its jugular and bit down with incredible force. As it squirmed, the wound continued to open around her teeth letting the blood flow down her throat in an intoxicating wash of adrenaline. Noah pulled at the neck and it finally gave tearing the meat from the carcass in a wet ripping sound. The body sprayed a few more squirts of blood then went deathly still. She took her fairly large chunk and began to pull pieces of it away at a time to eat. She had completely ignored Sami, not even considering how she would take her act of dominance of stealing a kill would effect the other. She was in her own world of blood and fear.
-
Silver leaned slightly on Claxter but found her head didnt hurt anymore. She blinked surprised. She was only slightly swaying but that was from lack of food and such in her system. She made her way through the ship with him deciding she would ask about how she was healed. When they finally reached outside she felt less panicky and more relieved.
-
Claxter was happy she was feeling better. <Let's all head for the bar, then. We can find ourselves a nice table and talk while enjoying food and drink.> He said. He walked out a bit, keeping a stalk eye pointed at the door. He would command it to close once they exited.
-
Larry was walking toward the Bar, thinking about how his relationship with Sami had progressed. She was so much different than the females of his land and she seemed to be appreciative of the way he treated her. He had a slight smile on his face as he was daydreaming when something appeared to his right, towards the lake.
A bright red light, no more than a foot across had appeared and it was flashing with a bright white light at random. Larry's blood immediately froze with fear because he knew what this was. Ba'al had found him and was going to end this war that Larry had started.
Having very little time Larry crouched to the ground and pressed his hand against it and concentrated. A tree stump suddenly grew out of the ground to a height of about a foot and a half. Larry put his index finger and concentrated again and the top three inches of the stump split off creating a hollow space. Inside the hollow stump Larry quickly wrote a note in the dirt and then laid all of the Weapons and clothing inside. He replaced the top of the stump and it sealed itself.
Satisfied that Sami and Noah's clothing and weapons were safe he stood and turned toward the light. The red light had formed into a portal the was six feet in diameter and was flashing with white lights still. Taking his staff off of his shoulder he held it in his right hand and crouched into a fighting stance. "Ba'al, I have destroyed your Brothers and I will destroy you. Let us finish this war now." Larry said in a defiant tone of voice. All of a sudden tentacles came racing out of the portal and wrapped themselves around Larry. Before he had time to react the tentacles quickly pulled him into the portal and the portal itself disappeared.
The land was eerily silent for a moment, but was broken by a cawing. Grun had watched the whole scene take place, but had no time to react for it had taken less than a minute for it to unfold. He landed upon the stump that his master and friend had created. Inside lay the possessions of Sami and Noah. A note in the dirt read 'Sami, I am sorry, but fate has finally found me. Ba'al, the Lord of Destruction has taken me by force to my own world to battle him. I feel that I will not be enough to destroy so I ask for your help. Grun will show you the way, but I am afraid that you will need more help. Ask if anyone from the bar will help you. I love, Sami.'
Although Grun did not know what was inside the stump he did know that his friend needed help. He looked to his left and saw a rose on the ground, the same rose Larry had presented Sami when they first met. Grun flapped his wings a couple times and flew over to the rose. Carefully clutching the rose in his talons he spread his wings, caught a headwind and soared into the sky. He took off flying toward the forest and cawing in desperation the entire time. He was hoping Sami would hear him and reveal her location so he could try to communicate to her that their friend was in trouble.
-
~The Polkaris~
That's probably a smart attitude to have at the moment, Ewa thought with relief. And a small bit of disappointment. "It is rather awkward, isn't it," she sympathized, her mouth twisting into something rueful.
"I was thinking of heading back to the bar, waiting there, if you wanted to come with," Ewa offered. She realized that it maybe wasn't the smartest move for her to make--here at least she knew two of the three people in her vicinity were not involved in the kidnapping plot. Who knew about anyone else that might be in the scape? Still, sitting there, waiting, made her feel hunted and unprepared. And it's not like this place is going to provide all that much protection with the hatch stuck open and those two off in their own world.
It did feel wrong to leave Van completely at Rathien's mercy. For now he'll be keeping Rathien busy, but what about when he comes down? The hunter could sabotage the ship, steal more of the cargo.... Character concerns, of course, but very material to what we might be able to achieve in this scape.
"I'm sure Van will head back to the bar, once he's finished. And it might feel a bit less awkward waiting there."
-
Vogefac smiled slightly as Artemis summoned strength - as always - to stand up, and walk out. He followed closely behind Claxter, making sure not to get in the way...
Catie smiled a little, "Yea...I think I'd prefer being there, all thugs considered."
She stood up ready to follow Ewa.
-
~The Polkaris~
"I'll be just a second then," Ewa excused herself and headed down the hallway. She hesitated a few feet away from the room Van and Rathien occupied, unsure exactly what she should do. There's just no way to get it all straightened out, she thought with frustration.
"Rathien," she called out. "Van," she added, on the off chance he might be in a frame of mind to hear her. "I'm heading back to the bar with Catie, so I thought you should know that the hatch is still stuck open." She paused awkwardly. "Be careful." In a lighter tone, "I hope you realize you're responsible for the cleaning if someone stumbles in and interferes with the trajectory of your knife."
That's it, nothing too serious or suspicious sounding.
-
As the captain scanned the parking lot, he noticed one of the ships he recognized as Claxter's ship. The hatch was open, and out stepped a familiar figure. If he had his helmet on, he could've just zoomed in, but without it, he was forced to slowly step forward and squint. He continued forward until the figure came more into view. He recognized the outfit, the hair length, and the beautiful features of the face of his beloved. It was Silver. She took the form of her true avatar, Artemis, but it was her none the less.
He smiled brightly and yelled out, "Silver!" He jogged at an impressive speed and as he approached her, he dropped his helmet. He grabbed her body and kissed her with all his being. Every moment he had waited, searched, hoped, had finally come to fruition in this moment of pure happiness. Finally, Parker was reunited with his love.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien turns his head at Ewa, supporting more of Van's weight than he should have to. "I...seem to have lost my touch. He does appear to be drugged though I did nothing and I didn't see him do anything." Rathien turns sideways, demonstrating to Ewa the blank look in Van's eyes and the heft of the pirate's weight. True, the is slender and somewhat effeminate, but he still weighs as much as any other person.
"As much as it might be fun to 'make a mess with my knife'...conquering sedated prey is for children, and young children at that." Rathien waves his hand in front of Van again to try and garner a response. If the pirate didn't wake from this trance, he would be forced to shift gears and pursue Ewa instead. She was attractive and would perhaps produce as much of a positive experience as the pirate would, but the pirate had been nearly assured. The Beryllian had been pushing all of his buttons and pushing them in just the right way. Such prey was not common.
-
~The Polkaris~
Ewa poked her head into the room once Rathien began speaking. Van's body had gone limp, but his eyes were still open and staring. She lifted her eyebrows. "I meant if you started cutting up people who interrupted--not if you got miffed with Van. I prefer having him whole and without holes."
Still, she moved into the room and wrapped an arm around Van's waist, taking some of the weight off Rathien. At least he's not interested in hurting the pirate, now that he's so vulnerable. That's a good sign. Ewa could feel Van breathing, slowly and calmly.
"The woman in the sitting room claims to be a medical officer. She might be able to help." Ewa looked up into Rathien's eyes. "She's also been strangely fixated on finding Van."
Ewa braced to take more of Van's weight. If Catie tried something, it would be best if Rathien were unencumbered. "I'm surprised you didn't just let him drop when this happened," she thought aloud. She took a slow breath and focused her attention on the door.
"Catie!" she yelled. "I need some help here!"
-
Sami heard Noah, not a second too soon, before the large feline came rushing through the forest. But what came next, she didn't expect. Noah rushed at her and took the animal, playing with it and cutting it up more, making it cry in frustration as it tried to get away. Sami crouched back, gums pulled up over her teeth as she bared them at Noah, ears flat against her head, hackles raised, and tail low to the ground, twitching furiously through the dirt. She did not have the insticnts or mind of an animal like Noah did. She didn't need to senslessly tear things to shreds. She took down her kills quickly, killing them with the littles pain she could possibly imagine. She just crouched there, hissing and growling angrily at the feline, ready for a fight if need be.
One ear twitched and flicked upward for a moment as she felt a sense of magic or something else disrupt the air on the planet, just outside of the forest. She ignored it, figuring it was another newcomer to the planetoid, as it quickly disappeared. But then she heard the familiar cry of a bird above her head, desperate and needing help. Her ears pricked upwards as she launched straight up, disappearing into the trees, letting Noah have her kill. She climbed to the top, poking her large white head out of the treetops. She saw Grun and barked loudly, twitching her ears, saying "Come here!" Then she disappeared into the trees again and fell down, landing nimbly amongst all the blood and gore that Noah had strung out everywhere.
-
Noah paid no mind to Sami for unless she was willing to make a move, she was background noise to her. Once she finished her piece of flesh she tore at the chest more ripping away the flesh and muscle. She latched her mighty jaw on the ribs and pulled until their was a chunk missing from the rib cage. Then she buried her face in the chest cavity and ravaged its lung tearing out chunks and swallowing them whole. Noah noticed when Sami left to climb the tree but had not cared to ask why. She just continued tearing away piece by piece, gulping down the hot fluid that was still spilling out and getting splattered on the trees around them, for she was a messy eater. She gnawed at the chewy meat of the heart, cherishing it for the best part of the body. She always avoided the intestines because once pierced, they exuded and fowl odor that would spoil any meal. It was her present to the birds and scavengers.
By the time Sami came back down the tree, she wore a deep red mask and red gloves upon her paws. She had backed away a couple of feet from the carcass with her long tail waving in the air calmly. The air around her seemed to have calmed as she has fed her beast enough to satisfy it for quite some time, but no telling truly how long it would last. She sat on the ground and just watched Sami, wondering how she would react to it all.
-
Grun was flying as fast he as he could above the forest, cawing in desperation. All of a sudden a white feline head popped above the trees and shouted at him. While he recognized and understood the words, Grun was wary of this creature for he did not recognize it as Sami.
Grun landed in a tree about 20 feet aove the creture taking great care to not damage the rose. He looked down and saw the blood and gore as well as a second creature. Although Grun did not recognize the two creatures he felt that one of them was Sami. Grun released his grip on the rose and it lazily fell down to land in between the two creatures. When it landed Grun cawed once, his cry heavy with despair and sadness.
-
Silver had just calmed down when she heard a familiar voice call her name. She turned and looked towards the voice and froze at the image in front of her. It wasnt until after the figure had grabbed her and kissed her that she snapped out of her shock enough to process that it was Parker. Parker was back. He was alive. Alive! She went from shock to overjoyed and kissed him back. But it was for only a moment as anger set in. She kissed him until she pulled away. A moment after the kiss she hauled back her fist and aimed for his face.
"You think you can be gone all this time and just waltz back to me and kiss me like that?! I thought you were dead!!" She yelled and screamed, tears flowering down her cheeks as all the worry and anger that she had hidden away came out. She swung at him one after another though in her under nourished state she soon fell to her knees crying.
-
After Silver had pulled away, she hit him in the jaw. He knew she had her pains and worries. She deserved to vent those feelings; and if that meant taking a couple punches to let his love express herself, he would take them. Though, when her fists began to aim lower, at his armor, he met each fist with an open hand; letting her hit something softer, so as to not break her hands. He followed her to the ground and held her to him, her tears falling down his armor. He rested his head upon hers, his hair partly covering her down-turned eyes.
"I'm sorry. I tried to get to the shuttle, but Gaz had taken off before I could get there. She sent the ship into Z-Space before I could escape. I've spent the last year trying to get back to this place, to you. I was afraid I'd never see you again; but I had hope that I would return. I've never stopped thinking about you. Everything I've done these past months have been to return to you. I've cheated, lied, killed to find you again. I've thought about nothing but you: your hair, your eyes, your smile, your lips," He traces her lips with his gauntleted thumb, "I love you, Silver; and nothing could keep me from returning to you."
-
Silver hit her fist against his chest but as the tears fell she lost her fight. "I thought you were dead..." She cried. She looked up at him as he traced her lips. He really was here. She felt a pain in her chest. When he said that he loved her she hugged him close and tight. "I love you too."
-
Vogefac was startled as someone out of his peripheral vision called to silver. He turned but he wouldn't have to look far for long, as the person was getting closer. Running in fact. His velocity would land him somewhere near...silver.
He ran up and kissed Artemis. Vogefac did not recognize the man, as he had been nowhere around when he had originally met Artemis...Vogefac was about to slash him unil he could fit in a Venshew wasp nest with room to spare
Until Artemis kissed him back. Vogefac settled, now purley curious. THEN, she started attempting to punch him. Vogefac's eyes went wide at the blinding rage and sadness and joy filling Artemis at the same moment in time. Ultimately, her joy won out over the other emotions.
Vigefac felt uneasy...he wanted to meet the new man, but...humans were very emotional. How would they feel if he inturrupted their kissing...
"Um...excuse me. I absolutely loathe interruptions myself, but my I ask who this man is?", Vogefac waited for something from artemis.
-
Parker smiles, relieved, at the sky, his eyes watering with the precursor of joyous tears. After all he had gone through, he had indeed made it back to her. She did still love him, he didn't want to leave that moment in time. Though, like all moments, fleeting as they are, this one too was over quickly as one of her companions, a large reptilian, spoke to Silver. He had wanted to know who this stranger that appeared out of nowhere and kissed his friend. At least, hopefully that's all she is to him. Parker knew Silver loved him, whether anyone else had formed those feelings towards her was a possiblity.
Parker looked at the sentient reptile and, with eyes still watered and a broken voice, said, "I'm Parker Eight-Two-One."
-
Julian was leaning casually against the bar as he looked around. Yep, this was his kind of place.
"So," he said after a moment of quiet, "I hear you've gone pirate. How's that working out?"
Morgan shrugged. "Well enough. I get some good jobs every now and then. And some jobs that ain't so honest. But I keep my ship in the sky and my crew taken care of."
-
<Hello again Parker. It is good to see you.> Claxter said. He wasn't sure why he was pressing his lips on hers. Maybe it had to do with him loving her. Maybe Humans did that when they were in love. <<Vogefac, perhaps we should give them a few moments alone. Parker can finish walking her to the bar a little later.>>
-
Silver looked up when Vogefac asked who he was. "Parker is my love my mate. I'm not sure how youre people describe it. Parker, Vogefac here has been a great ally and friend. He helped me through many troubles as did Claxter." Remembering those troubles she placed a hand to her face over the three scars that lined the side of her face.
-
Gaz decided to take a stroll outside the bar while Morgan and Julian caught up. In the distance she thought she saw a couple of figures that looked familiar.
"Silver? Parker?" she called out. "is that you over there?"
Gaz went closer to see for sure who it was.
-
<Hey Gaz! You're back too!> Claxter yelled as his stalk eye caught sight of another familiar face. <This is suspiciously coincidental timing.>
-
Silver heard her name once more and turned to look just as Claxter called Gaz's name. "Gaz! Youre here too? I swear this place is odd." She tried to stand up but found she used all her strength to punch at Parker. "Damn....."
-
"you look like you could use something to eat," Gaz said. "I'm glad to see you but I'd rather not see you pass out. Besides, there's someone in the bar who'd really like to see you."
Gaz turned to Parker. "Glad to see you too, man. Hope you understand we didn't leave you by choice. There was an emergency. It wasn't a choice we made lightly."
-
Another person came to them...
{{Perhaps you are right, Claxter.}}, Vogefac told him.
"If you will excuse me, my throat is too moist. I must retrieve a Rev'maak ale for myself. I hope to see you all later."
Vogefac noticed Silver run her hand over her three scars...he remembered...he laughed to himself, then walked to the bar.
He sat down at the table, reminiscing about John...Bear...Frede rick...Fenebok...po or Fenebok. Reptilinod aren't emotional, but thinking of one's own brother serving a terrible penalty for his dishonorable behavior...it made him very sad. But it was nothing a Rev'maak ale couldn't fix.
"Bartender, rev'maak ale please."
He waited for Claxter to join him. He would like to know more about these Parker and Gaz specimens.
Catie heard Ewa call, so she ran up to where shed gone. She found Ewa with two men - one of which had to be Van - and one of them looked very dazed...
"What happened?", she asked as she leaned down to take his pulse.
-
Reven sighs impatiently. "If Myitt and Corliss have evaluated you, I trust their judgment," he tells Illim and Derrel. He fixes his attention on the person he assumes is Corliss. "As for you, brother, I expect you to return as soon as the girl has completed this procedure. If Myitt can tear herself away from that wretched place, so can you."
Eyeing Ossanlin, he adds cordially, "Thank you for your time, my old friend. It is good to have spoken with you."
And the transmission cuts out, abruptly.
-
Claxter followed Vogefac inside, and ordered him something on a dish to put on the floor. He noticed Morgan talking to someone, but didn't interrupt him. He noticed Jocun had moved to the table with zorish and was talking to her. Hopefully not scheming anything.
Derrel was happy the conversation had gone well, and would go back to waiting.
-
Al followed Silver, Vogefac and Claxter out of the ship. He watched as Parker ran up and kissed her, and waited for the scene to calm a bit before nodding to him, "Hey, Parker. A year, huh?" He pulled back his left cuff and looked at his bare wrist. "Man, time is weird in this place. In any case, welcome back," he said, smiling warmly at the man.
When Gaz approached, Al held out his hand for her to shake, "Gaz. Pleased to finally make your acquaintance. I'm Al, but you can call me Al."
He looked around at the Gaz, Silver and Parker, and glanced after Vogefac and Claxter as they headed for the door. "So we gettin' her some food or what?" he asked, nodding towards Silver. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving."
-
Gaz shook Al's hand. "Good to meet you too. And ai agree, we should go get some chow."
Inside the bar, Julian was still scoping out he other patrons.
"Not many ladies around," Julian commented as he leaned against the bar.
Morgan chuckled. "You haven't changed."
(Dont forget: Julian is like Morgan, but part horse instead of part bull.)
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods and glances at Mike. <I assume Terenia is in the pool room.> He looks at the bulkhead. <Terenia if you can hear me, I hope to start your procedure within twenty four hours. I am vacating the Skimmer as I have other business to attend to.> He looks again at Mike. <I will contact you when I feel I am ready to attempt Terenia's reversion.>
Ossanlin turns and begins trotting down the ramp. <Warrior, with me.> He doesn't look at Efaen, he merely continues down the ramp, tail swishing over his back.
-
Corliss, who is himself the sole occupant of the Skimmer's pool, remains silent after Ossanlin takes his leave. Even the electronic version of his voice would betray the fact that he is definitely not a human girl, even a human girl in Yeerk form.
He desperately wonders what has gone on in his absence, and he swims in small, anxious circles while he waits.
<<Well,>> Mike sighs after Ossanlin trots out. <<I suppose that went as well as it could have done.>>
-
~The Polkaris~
"I'm not sure," Ewa answered, her eyes flashing over to Rathien. "Apparently it just happened. Does he seem okay? Is it maybe just some kind of exhaustion?"
-
Parker nods to both Claxter, Al, Gaz and Vogefac at their introduction and reintroductions. At Gaz's entrance, he can't help but hold a flicker of resentment, though he knows that his predicament wasn't her fault as he opted to stay behind to stop the soldiers.
As Silver curses at her lack of strength and inability to walk, he puts her arm over his shoulder, places his arms behind her back and under her legs; and stands up with her in his arms. He gives her a smile as the watering in his eyes his pulled down by the force of his standing in a single tear. He looks away from her eyes a moment and notices the scars that she was tracing. He then looks at her midriff and sees the same three scars. Around the scars, though are new, different markings; almost like tattoos. He follows the designs up as he sees them on her upper chest and down her arms. His face is more curious than concerned, though concern is definitely present after seeing the scars.
He asks Silver, "Silver, what... happened?" He obviously is talking about the scars, but also hopes she'll speak of the markings.
-
Sami just sat there, watching Noah finish her meal before sitting back, Sami's ears flat and lips drawn back the whole time. She had seen the mess a hunt could make, but that was tame compared to this. It was almost senseless slaughter, if it wasn't for the fact that Noah was eating. Sami looked up as Grun landed, her ears perking back up as her lip fell down over her teeth. She didn't want to appear dangerous to the crow. She watched him drop a rose, and listened to his plaintive cry, her eyes lowering sadly as therose fell, figring outwhat had happened.
All regard for her own safety melted away, as did her form, until she was standing there in her normal state. She bent over and picked up the rose delicately, caressing the petals softly. She looked up at Grun. "Take us to him." She turned to look at Noah saddeningly, her eyes starting to tear up as she pleaded for the huntress to follow her. She took off through the woods, not even really waiting for Grun to show her the way.
-
Grun watched as the feline like creature that had called to him began to change shape. The being that emerged was his master's friend, the one called Sami. She picked up the rose and seemed as sad as he was. She spoke to the other creature briefly and then shouted to him to show her the way.
Sami began running toward the bar and Grun opened his wings and dived. Ten feet above the ground he opened his wings and soared after Sami. He quickly overtook Sami and began leading her towrd the spot where Larry disappeared.
A couple minutes later Grun emerged from the forest and quickly flew over to the tree stump. He landed upon it and pecked at it a couple times with his beak. Grun did not have a sense of smell and therefore couldn't detect Larry's scent that emanated from the stump.
((I am posting this from my phone so I apologize if it is difficult to understand. I'll fix it tomorrow.))
-
Noah watched all that happened before her but was still perplexed by it. Sami seemed to read into the rose strongly enough that it made her almost cry. She blinked once and Sami was off. Noah fumbled into a run having not expected to run anywhere. She followed having to rush to catch up with her. Her paws began to collect dirt and turned deep brown as it was absorbed into the blood. The blood on her face began to dry in the breeze that was slapping her face as she ran so that it began to blend into the red orange of her fur. Only in the sunlight would one be able to define the color difference.
Noah stopped following them, seeing that they were headed for the bar and ran behind the bush where her clothes were. She grabbed them in her mouth then began to run after Sami and Grun. Seeing their behavior toward the situation, she didn't worry about trying not to get blood on her clothes. just the need to hurry and catch up. She knew she would arrive about 30 seconds after they got back since they were all running as fast as they could.
-
Vogefac looked at Claxter as he ate from the dish. He gulped his Rev'maak ale.
"Who is this, Parker? And who is Gaz? Are they close associates of Artemis?"
He feels the ale begin to dry his throat slightly. It feels good on his whole neck. He relaxes in his seat and forgets all about Fenebok, and all the adventures from before.
-
<Artemis is the daughter of Morgan.> Claxter said, pointing to the guy. <Friend of Gaz. Parker is someone who came here some time before you, and has grown affectionate towards Artemis over time. I believe she prefers Silver. Though Artemis may be her real name. Anyway, they're good friends of hers.>
-
<<Yes, sir,>> Efaen says. She glances at 'Corliss'. <<I will return with my prince when it is time to perform the procedure, and then we can depart. I...thank you for allowing me to speak with your leader.>> Admitting gratitude clearly makes her uncomfortable, and she turns quickly to follow Ossanlin.
<<Yeah,>> Terenia says, exhaling with relief as Efaen and Ossanlin vacate the ship. She tries not to think about the fact that Mike ignored her question about Corliss' earlier statements. <<Thank God it's over with. I should probably switch with Corliss again, huh?>> She seals the hatch of the Skimmer and shoots a glance in Illim's direction.
"I'll be right back," she says. "Or, well, I won't, but Corliss will. Whatever. You know what I mean." She shrugs, moving back to the pool room without waiting for an answer. She still doesn't know if she trusts Illim or not, and because of that she isn't eager to make conversation with him.
Making her way back to the pool room Terenia sighs heavily. In the time she has been in Mike's head she has been forced to contend with her dead sister, negotiate the removal of the Malleon from the Skimmer and pretend to be Corliss while talking to the leader of the Yeerk rebellion. She is utterly exhausted, too tired to even be bothered by the fact that she will be re-entering the pool.
"Damn, Corliss," she whispers down at the sludgy surface. "You sure decided to miss a lot."
<<Don't forget about me this time,>> she murmurs to Mike before lowering his left ear to the surface of the pool. A moment later there is a small splash as her writhing Yeerk form hits the surface of the pool.
-
<<Damn it, Terenia, you can't leave me now,>> Mike protests, but he hardly has a chance. He sighs, pressing his ear against the pool, reluctant to be reinfested so quickly after Terenia's departure.
Corliss senses Terenia's arrival in the pool, and Mike's ear canal.
<<Terenia, are you all right?>> Corliss asks her, pausing to brush his palps against hers.
-
<<No,>> Terenia says honestly, using thought-speak instead of Yeerkish squeaks. <<No, I'm not alright. But I will be. Maybe. Hell, I don't know. Just...go back to Mike, you'll be able to figure it out from him. I'm just so freaking tired of all this crap.>> She hesitates, wanting to say something else, wanting to ask him about his earlier confession, but not knowing how to broach the subject. It doesn't matter, she reminds herself. He'll be able to see my questions when he reinfests Mike.
-
Corliss hesitates, brushing his body against hers, and letting her go.
Mike winces as soon as Corliss starts to reinfest him. The process takes a few moments, but Corliss lifts Mike's head up from the pool, idly wiping the gray water from the side of his head.
The Yeerk stands up straight and looks over at the cabin doorway. "We've got to get out of here," Corliss whispers aloud to his host. "As soon as Terenia is ready to leave, we've got to go home." He keeps the audio feed open, so Terenia herself can hear them.
-
<<I want to go now,>> Terenia says honestly, too tired to even bother scrunch-thrusting around the small pool. She lets the almost nonexistent current buffet her small, Yeerk body. <<But Ossanlin said it would be at least another day. I don't know if I can wait that long, Corliss. A lot can happen in a day around here.>>
-
Sami immediately smelled the fear as soon as she broke free from the woods. She followed Grun over to a stump that she didn't remember being there. She could smell her own scent, along with Noah's, but much stronger was Larry's. His scent of love. And of fear. She gently moved Grun aside and read the message in the dirt, gasping softly, a tear breaking free and dropping to the dirt. She tried to open the stump, but couldn't. Finally, she just shifted her hands into something like bear claws, and began ripping away at it until she had made a big enough hollow to pull their things out. She seperated Noah's from her cloak before donning it and standing up. She turned to face the bar, unsure of what to do. She didn't know many people in there, and didn't know where those were that she had interacted with before. Such as Al, who would no doubt be an asset in this situation.
-
Noah burst from the trees not long after Sami and skidded to a halt near her. The air was heavy with lingering fear and a mild tingling from fresh magic. Her eyes were drawn to the stump she could have swore wasn't there when they left. Her eyes slowly drifted down to the message on the ground. She read it with wide eyes, even her jaw gaped exposing her sharp teeth and dropping her blood speckled clothes on the ground. Her body stilled as Noah looked back up to Sami who had separated their clothes from each other.
She walked up to Sami and rubbed her head against her hand. The blood had hardened into a crunchy deep maroon mass by now standing out from her vibrant red orange fur in the direct sunlight.
"I'll go with you if you'll take me. I saw the way you two looked at each other and I know what it is to feel the loss of part of your world." Her voice sounded raspy on the edge of a growl, but couldn't help it because she was using her leopard's throat. She looked up at her with serene eyes then walked back over to her clothes while waiting for a response. She picked up the clothes she brought back with her and added them to the pile. Noah pulled out her jacket from the mass and lay it flat on the ground. She began to pick up each item gently with her teeth until all of her clothes where laying on her jacket. She fumbled to get each corner of the jacket to the center trying to use her paws to pull them to get them there then her teeth to hold them in the middle. After about a minute she finally got it and grasped the 4 corners of her jacket in her mouth. She picked them up having not realized that her efforts would be all wasted if she had to talk again because she could not tie a knot with paws. Noah refused to shift back just yet, because she didn't trust the people around her to not harm her in her vulnerable state.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin trots at a military pace toward the Mirage, commanding it to open upon his arrival. He ascends the ramp, listening for Efaen's hooves. He immediately goes to the med-bay and opens one of the storage cabinets. He unlatches an almost invisible clasp and slides one rack of field-restrained vials slightly off to one side revealing the sterile, white polymer surface underneath. He runs a finger over the seemingly seamless surface. He gives a coded private thought-speech command as he makes the physical contact and blue seams of energy appear on the surface of the polymer before a hidden chamber slides up, exposing three small magnetically sealed containers held in a row. He removes the first and commands the chamber to close again. It reseals, blue energy resealing the seams. Ossanlin slides the rack back into place and latches the hasp again, closing the otherwise unremarkable cabinet, container in hand.
He pulls a dermal injector from a second cabinet and places it in a loader. He places the unassuming white container in the loader as well and commands it to start. The loader immediately seals and evacuates the chamber before running a sterilizing field through the loader and around the container. A small laser-torch cuts the top of the container precisely and moves the freed piece out of the way. It pulls the contents of the chamber into a small vial of sterile saline liquid before sealing the vial and loading it into the injector. The loader puts out a tone and equalizes the pressure inside before sliding open. Ossanlin reaches in and removes the injector.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Rathien~
"He is alive and I do not sense the end of his Dream." Rathien glances at the newcomer noting positions where she might be hiding weapons as well as the possible threat she could pose before glancing back at Ewa as he lays Van down on the floor of the chamber, careful to avoid the drying Vivalite. "Things were proceeding rather nicely...and then he became...well..." Rathien gestures, indicating Van's current condition.
He bares his fangs as he regards the pirate. The Beryillian had gotten off too easily. At least it would be a simple matter to "borrow" a crate or two of the Vivalite now. "It is...frustrating to say the least." Rathien would never say so but he had missed being able to enjoy the company of a Beryllian ever since assassinating the Hegemon. He glances at the crates of Vivalite again, then back at Ewa...it was possible that taking the Vivalite might result in Ewa's disapproval, which would make it much harder to garner some time alone with her. For now he simply stands up, walking to one wall of the room to lean against it, one boot-clad foot propped up with it's sole flush against the wall.
Rathien glances over the new female again and grins, trying not to show his frustration at being denied the pirate. "I apologize for my rudeness, I am Rathien’d’ilarianiil fen’Mirwindrierien’or’Elienal sen’Ildar, but you may call me Mirwind, or Rathien if you desire." He continues grinning winningly, bright white fangs showing clearly.
-
Vogefac looks at Claxter strangely for noticing he used her real name and making note of it.
"She has already explained her preference for her byname. Reptilinod so not often use a sobriquet, so it is difficult for me to use her's. I am sure I will learn some day. However, I was also aware of her paternal relation. I was introduced to Morgan some time ago, before I left."
After a brief pause, "I do not mean to offend you, but I was not asking for such...perceptible information. The way they interacted lead me to believe that Gaz was a close acquaintance and Parker a love interest. I was hoping for some more time-spanning information. Not to focus to much on Parker, but do you know when he and Artemis - I mean, Silver - first meet?"
-
<I don't know if I was paying a whole lot of attention to Parker and Silver, and if I was I don't really remember the specifics. I'm sorry if what I said is only as much as you could have figured out quickly enough, but I think I was doing other things like worrying about Efaen. Another Andalite with her own problems. You'll have to ask them.>
-
Efaen makes her way to the Mirage a few paces behind Ossanlin. She does not bother engaging him in conversation; her thoughts are very much on the commitment that she has just made, and casting aside her ability to contact any of her people beyond her Prince. It was necessary, she reminds herself, for what seems to be the millionth time. I am useless to my people aboard a Dome Ship, or back on the Homeworld. This will allow me to make progress against the Empire.
Squaring her shoulders, she ascends the Mirage's ramp, pausing in the doorway to the med-bay. Her main eyes watch Prince Ossanlin warily, but her expression is otherwise blank. <<I am prepared for my mission briefing, sir,>> she says, eager to get the hardest part - leaving - over with.
-
Silver blinked a moment and then understood what he was asking. "A lot has happened since you've been gone. The scars....it was a misunderstanding... ..Vogefac didnt mean it and I've all ready forgiven him. I know he would never hurt me onpurpose. The tatoos are like a birthday gift I guess. One day every year my powers grow. This was...this years...surprise... ." She bit her lower lip in thought. One habit she never broke.
-
Sami smiled softly and nodded her thanks, rubbing Noah's head gently. She let Noah pad away as she heard footsteps nearing the bar. She turned and caught Al with two other males, and a female. She smiled and called out to him, running over. "Al! It's Sami!" She caught up with the group, only barely realizing they had been talking. Her face grew very serious, her eyes still sad. "Do you remember my companion, Larry? Something has happened to him. He was yanked back to his world by some.... force that wants to kill him. He says his friend Grun - " she pointed backwards to the crow, " - can help lead us to a place to get to Larry. Will you help?" Her wide pleading eyes rolled over the group. "Will any of you help?" She twisted the rose stem in her fingers nervously.
-
Noah followed after after Sami at a slower pace, her jacket satchel dangling from her mouth. She tried to blend in behind her and slightly off to the side, but knew that they would notice the blood stained her. So she tried to own the blood and her torturous ways by standing up straighter. She moved to the side of Sami so they would all be able to see her 6 ft long body with bright red orange fur stand out. Her tail twitched idly as she waited for their responses trying to appear too threatening even though the blood would probably make that impossible.
-
Jocun noticed Noah come back in after a woman who was obviously worried about something. Noah herself seemed to have been in a fight with something, but he wasn't sure if the blood she sported was hers or not. He got up and walked towards them.
"What exactly happened? Noah, you went out for air and came back looking like you killed someone. Where exactly was this Larry taken?"
-
Noah smiled a baring of teeth with her lip less mouth. Her forest green eyes brightened a bit, seeing that someone wasn't terrified by her new mask and gloves. Then looked at him with a darkening of the eyes, though all other features were hard to read on her leopard body.
"How did you know it was me? I don't remember looking like this when I left." She teased in her purr of a voice. But she was truly curious how he knew it was her because she couldn't remember if she told him she was a wereleopard. Even if she had, it's one thing to tell someone, another to appear before them as that creature.
-
"You have the same eyes." Jocun said. That must have been how he recognized the animal as Noah. "Besides, my nose isn't entirely useless either. It seems I wasn't wrong." He noticed she hadn't answered about the possible killing, but he knew he should tread a little carefully around her. He was far enough away to react to any attack she made. She'd draw blood, but he only needed a brief instant to start a counter attack.
-
Sami smiled when someone spoke, interested in where Larry went. She let him talk with Noah before replying. "I do not know where Larry went to. Just that someone came here to get him. Someone who wanted to kill him. I do not know of his world or what I may find there once his friend takes me there. So I really need help." Her dark green eyes roamed over the group once more, focusing on Jocun a bit since he had spoken, then moving to focus even more on Al, since she knew AI's were terribly strong and scuh. Or at least, they could be. She hoped Al was one of those types.
-
"We will need all the information we can gather before embarking. Did you search the area well that he was taken?" Jocun asked.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin turns from the loader, facing Efaen, injector in hand. <Very well, first you will require this.> Ossanlin holds up the injector a bit more prominantly. <Upon which region of your body would you prefer the injection site to be located?>
-
Corliss nods, looking bleakly down at the pool. "Yeah, you're bloody right, a lot can happen in a day around here." He frowns. "I don't even know how long we've been here. A few days? Weeks? The sooner we get out of here, the better. I'm going to see how our new friend Illim's holding up. The communicator's on, so we can hear you whether you use thought-speech or sonar."
He bites his lip and hesitates. "Yeah. So. See you in a bit, then." Awkwardly he heads for the Skimmer's cabin.
-
Efaen's wary expression does not change. <<For what purpose will I require an injection?>> she asks carefully, not moving from the doorway.
Terenia decides not to respond. If Corliss doesn't want to talk, that's his prerogative. She tries not to let the fact irritate her as she absorbs the nutrients in the pool. She can't help but feel guilty somehow, and that is what confuses her most of all. You don't owe anything to him. You barely know them, she reminds herself. At the same time, she is finding it difficult to ignore her feelings towards them.
<<Corliss,>> she says hesitantly, in private thought-speak that only he and Mike can hear. <<Thank you. For letting me use Mike. And for...well, for still hanging around despite the fact that I've just caused more trouble than anything else.>>
-
<<Well now what? Certainly we're not going to sit in the ship for a whole day before leaving. Though maybe you need to soak in whatever stuff that is in the other room for a bit.>> Derrel said.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin raises an eyebrow, taking a step forward, holding the injector out for Efaen to see more clearly. <Inside this injector is a saline solution cradling a biomedic chip. The chip immediately begins to adapt to biological material around it, so as soon as it contacts your biological matter, it will adapt itself to your DNA and will be assimilated into your body. It will migrate to a safe location and implant, you will feel no pain or discomfort aside from the original puncture of the injector. Since it is biotechnology, it will not interfere with any of your morphs and will remain functional when you revert.>
He pauses, allowing this to sink in. <The chip serves two functions...first off, I will be able to send a wideband transponder signal from anywhere in the galaxy...when it reaches you, the chip will respond by sending a dedicated, encrypted z-space signal back to my communicator detailing your current location and medical condition. This means that I will be able to track you no matter where you are. Since it is a z-space signal, it cannot be dampened or insulated against.>
Ossanlin pauses for another moment before continuing. <The second function is to give you access to Halcyon...I will go into further detail once the chip has been injected.>
-
By the time Terenia and Corliss have swapped positions, Illim has found the Skimmer's built-in games and has started a round of Yeerkish pong against the ship. His posture is slouched in the co-pilot's seat, looking like the picture of relaxation--not a man who just interviewed with his boss-to-be.
<<I fed earlier today,>> he tells Derrel with a shrug. <<If you want control for a bit, though, let me know. I can take the back seat a while.>>
-
Corliss steps into the cabin with a loud sigh. "Illim," he says with a friendly nod. "It's Corliss again. Looks like things have gone rather well with my brother?"
He pauses behind Illim's chair, watching the game with idle curiosity. It'd been a long time since anyone had actually had fun with the Skimmer's computer system.
-
Parker thought on the information given to him. Concern, still written on his face, is now joined by confusion, "Isn't Vogefac what you called the reptilian? He did this? What happened?" His voice holds no hostility, or anger; only concern for his love, and curiosity for the details that caused an ally to suddenly turn on another, then to still be considered an ally and friend.
He stayed motionless, only interested in the story, rather than going into the bar. The story of the tattoos was interesting, and sated that bit of curiosity; but he was more worried about his love's well-being and pain.
-
<<I wouldn't mind being in control for a longer period.>> He said. He was happy there were games, though if there was any fun to be had in the skimmer, best save it for later. <<I'd rather be in the bar.>>
-
Al smiled cautiously at Sami, "Hey. Something that wants to... kill him? That doesn't sound good." He listened interestedly as the creature she'd come in with spoke with Jocun, then shook his head. "Dealing with situations like that... it's not really what I'm good at," he said. "If you want, I can run and ask my friend Salem if he'd be willing to help. If he goes, I'll tag along, but I don't know how much help you expect me to be."
-
Grun had hopped to the side of the tree trunk when Sami had moved him and watched as she read what Larry had written. He could see sadness in her eyes and watched as she went towards the bar and talked to people. She seemed to be asking for help and Grun knew that they would need a way to Larry. He spread his wings and began flapping towards the edge of the forest.
Grun landed on a very strange tree. In fact anyone could see that it wasn't a tree at all when they got close to it. It looked like a lot of vines had grown out of the ground and spiraled themselves around something. The vine tree had a diameter of ten feet all the way around. It was obvious that Larry had created this for his scent emanated from it, but it also was clear that he had not been here in a long while.
Within the confines of the vine structure was a portal that was a blue color and flashed randomly with a white light. Grun knew what was inside the vine tree and knew that it would lead to the land of Sanctuary. He cawed once as loudly as he could to Sami. He then began pecking at the vine tree, hoping that Sami would understand his motives.
-
Noah nodded to Jocun at his perception. Clever, didn't think he'd pay any attention to my eyes while I look like this. She looked over toward Al as he spoke and got mildly closer to him but keeping her distance as she looked him over.
"Are you a tactician? Any knowledge of anything that neither of us know? The more the merrier i say, we can make you useful as long as Sami thinks it's ok." She said trying to control her voice so it didn't growl with its deep edge, but couldn't fix it entirely. Noah looked back over her shoulder to her jacket and clothes that had fallen when she spoke to Jocun. She let out a sigh and walked back over to it. She began to fumble with it again trying to get all the corners to the center and locked in her jaw. She got two corners but failed to gather up the other too. She growled her frustration staring intently at her clothes while she did it wanting to shred them. Noah didn't know when she would get to shift back because she would be out for awhile, unless she got two people to give her energy while she shifted back. Then she would be able to function and not pass out without draining anyone too much.
-
Silver cast her gaze down and took a soft breath. "We were fighting against a threat. A vampire of sorts. He had list his soul to this void and tried to take Vogefac. He succeeded for a bit and Vogefac had clawed my stomach and face. But once he realized what he had done, he did everything he could to make it right and would not forgive himself. If it was not for my allys I would still be missing my soul within the void.....the vampire had gotten to me as well...." She explained with a sad and distant look.
-
<<An internal communicator?>> Efaen asks, taking a step forward with interest. Her time with Visser Three has resulted in a bit of an aversion to injections of any sort, but now is not the time for her to be turning away her prince. Not after plans are finally moving forward.
<<I do not have a preferred location,>> Efaen says. <<I suppose my arm will be suitable.>> She glances at the injector, then back up at her prince. She does not trust him, and the last thing she wants is for him to be injecting her with biotechnology. No choice, she reminds herself, taking another step forward and holding out her arm. If he wished to destroy you he had many opportunities already.
Terenia sighs internally at the lack of response. At any other time she would be irriated, but she is simply too tired to bother. She moves her small, Yeerkish body in small half-circles around the pool, wishing for the first time in awhile that Yeerks were capable of true sleep.
-
"Hope so," Illim nods, swiveling his head to look at him. This, of course, makes him lose the level, so he abandons the game. "Darrel was glad for the opportunity to meet him, anyway."
He smirks, glancing out the window. "I hope I didn't give Reven a false impression about Myitt's and my interaction. I wouldn't say she approved of me. Her parting words were 'Have a nice life.'" His smirk becomes a broad grin. "Bet she'll be surprised to see me again."
<<Alright, yeah,>> Illim tells Derrel, though he doesn't relish the idea of giving up control for too long, despite what he has told his host. <<Just a minute longer. Maybe Corliss'll wanna come with us.>>
-
Parker smiles slightly, less worried and he's happy as he can be about the situation. He says, "Well, at least you're better now, and there's less chance of him freaking out in the future."
He walks over to his helmet he had dropped. He bends over and picks it up, still keeping Silver level and above the ground. He looks nowhere but in Silver's eyes as he walks into the bar and finds an empty booth and asks Silver, "How does this look?" He doesn't want to tear his gaze away, nor let her out of his hold, but knows that in this surrounding, he'll have to do both for their safety.
Remembering Gaz, he makes a mental note to retrieve Thor from Morgan's computer system. Hopefully he hasn't gone through early onset Rampancy because of his absence. Although with all of the new data available to him, Parker was sure he was keeping himself as busy as an A.I. can.
-
Jocun stood by, waiting for someone to talk about where their had been taken. He heard a bird calling with what seemed like purpose, and glanced out the door to see him pecking at an odd tree. Still, he waited.
<<Corliss is kind of a stick in the mud, though. Unless it's in regards to Terenia.>> Derrel said. Truthfully the only person in this group he actually liked much was Illim. Corliss was a mood killer, Terenia was a whiner, and Efaen just hated everyone.
-
The edge of Sam's mouth twitched up as she tried to smile, but couldn't. "Of course I searched the area." She pointed back to the stump. "All there was was a note in the dirt about him being taken, and that random stump with some items he had been holding for Noah and I." She noticed Noah stumbling over her things and picked them up for her, bundling everything up into a noce parcel that would take a bit to unravel, before setting it back down in front of her face. "That would be very helpful, Al. The more, the merrier, as Noah said. Plus, if your friend Salem has any knowledge of magic and such, that would be wonderful. There was an intense smell and feel of it near the stump." She heard Grun's call and turned around once more. "Look!" She pointed at him, pecking the vines away from a swirling blue portal of some sorts. "That should take us to Larry!" She smiled at them all, glad she had found a way. "We need to get to him as fast as possible! Please." Her eyes pleaded as she looked back and forth between them and the portal.
-
"I suppose this demands investigation. We can't just have portals opening up around here to grab random people." Jocun said. "I'm going to run to my ship and grab some things. I'll be back shortly."
He rushed to his ship to grab a weapon and some armor. The armor could expand to a certain degree to accommodate his morphing while still being resistant to attacks. He would also need to send a communication to his people about what he was doing, though even if they wanted to help it would be an hour before they got here in force.
-
Noah listened to the conversation going in and out of focus still agitated by her clothes. She stepped back as Sami neared and perked up as she tied it in a knot for her. Noah couldn't help but smile, though, it looked fierce rather than joyous. She grabbed her clothes in her mouth with east and sort of trotted over to Sami's side once more. When she pointed out the tree, Noah looked over feeling foolish that she hadn't noticed before, especially with the strange scent coming off of it.
Looking toward the portal, she realized how bad of an idea it would be for her to enter as a leopard. She needed to shift back, but didn't know how to ask to leach energy off of 2 people. Noah sat staring at the portal with a puzzled look upon her features staying motionless as the conversation proceeded behind her.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods and moves the injector into position. <Very well, I apologize for the crudeness of the procedure, but the chip cannot be absorbed through the skin like a med-spray.> He grips Efaen's arm with his free hand and plunges the hypodermic needle into her arm. He pulls the trigger and a secondary, smaller needle extends through the outer needle and injects the contents of the vial into Efaen's arm. As the device withdraws, it automatically seals the wound with a quick cauterization, and Ossanlin moves it to the loader to be sterilized.
<Good, the chip will take approximately ten hours to fully adapt to your DNA and implant. This chip will also give you access to Halcyon...it is our most-guarded encryption known only to a select few. I will not go into details regarding how the encryption works due to the risks involved. Suffice it to say that it is virtually unbreakable. I want you to use Halcyon ONLY when you feel there is something that we need to know that you do not wish the rebellion to hear. In order to use it, you must direct a private thought-speech at yourself stating "Halcyon encryption, transpond." You must also have your general communicator active and then speak your message privately to your comm. The Halcyon chip will automatically modify what your communicator receives and the communicator will record the message. You must then command "Halcyon encryption, terminate." Once the chip deactivates, you must record a standard Sinuulpor-Lenkett encrypted message that is at least as long as your Halcyon-encoded message. The communicator will do the rest. Again I want to stress that you must only use Halcyon under circumstances where privacy is a necessity. For all other communications please use the standard Sinuulpor-Lenkett encryption. The rebels most-likely have the means to decrypt Sinuulpor-Lenkett, so do not say anything you do not wish them to hear.>
Ossanlin moves to the storage area and removes one of the comm devices adapted to interact with the Halcyon chip. He holds it out to Efaen. <The chip will not work with regular communicators, this one is specially adapted to work with the embedded Halcyon chip. Architecturally it is almost indistinguishable from a standard comm.>
<If you fall victim to infestation, the chip will detect the differences in your body chemistry and will automatically erode the portion of itself that allows you to access Halcyon, but the locator and health monitor will remain intact. This physical response cannot be controlled by the Yeerk, so there is no danger of the failsafe not functioning. The infestation will also trigger an emergency distress signal that will immediately notify me of your infestation. You cannot be infested for any reason Efaen...not even temporarily. Do you understand?>
Ossanlin pauses to allow Efaen to absorb the information.
-
<I have no intention of ever allowing a Yeerk slug in my head,> Efaen says stiffly, her facial expression betraying her disgust. <The last five years have, if nothing else, allowed me to appreciate my autonomy.>
She takes the modified comm link from him, clipping it to her holster alongside the long-forgotten Imprerial communicator that Terenia had brought with her to the bar. As she adjusts the holster she fixes Ossanlin with a stalk eye.
<I would sooner die than be reinfested,> she professes.
-
Silver smiled and looked into his eyes as he carried her in. "Yeah this is fine. Ill be fine once I eat something. Don't worry." She said gently.
Jade followed them into the bar glancing to Silver to be sure ofher condition. Not because she doubts her healing spell but because she wasnt sure of the two magicks mixing.
-
Parker lets her down into the booth and sits opposite her. He takes her hand and runs his fingers along her arm, tracing the new design, "They're beautiful."
He worried about the fact that she was constantly changing, who knows what she may inheret down the line that may do more harm than good. He lets his worry melt away as he just sits there, enjoying her presence.
-
Keshin frowns at the man's bizarre, incoherent statement. It was apparently in no language their translator understood, not even a human language. But in curiosity he begins to follow the stranger. It was pretty clear that he at least thought Keshin would know what he was saying. <Kandrona, this is insane. Why are we playing this game?>
<Beats me, idgit. You're the one movin' the limbs here. You that desperate for a break?>
<....apparently. Curiosity murders the Yeerk, mm?>
Keshin then nervously mutters, "Mmm...I do not understand you. Could you please speak in English, Yeerk, or Galard?"
****************************************************************************************
Mar watches Salem's progress carefully, but is quickly losing track of where Salem's going. His connection is slowly fizzling out. By the time Salem comes crashing to the floor, Mar's head feels like it is about to explode. Mar grits his teeth and mutters, "Yes, yes. First flights are always a bit difficult. But you will need to progress alone. I..."
Mar bites his lip nervously, unsure of whether he should explain the situation to the trader or not. It probably was not wise. But with a link clearly established Mar may have some leverage over him he knows not about. He could not alter the trader's heart as he theoretically can when close to Myitt, but he may be able to encourage one train of thought or another as he sometimes did in areas of great Influence. "...I am hindered by the mortal body I have entered the Bar inside. When I appeared, I deliberately masked my own connection to the Mass so as not to attract unwanted attention. This was a mistake."
-
~Ossanlin~
<I hope that it does not come to that.> Ossanlin continues to watch Efaen with his main eyes. <You will still be under the guidance of our military. You will maintain the rank of Warrior. You are considered an agent stationed with the rebels. Reven's orders will be followed unless you expressly and without a doubt detect that those orders would be counter-productive to our cause, that cause being the eradication of the Empire, would harm the Andalites in a significant manner, or would countermand orders you have received from me. Do what you can to maintain your position, we have never had an agent inside the rebellion...so it is imperative that you attempt to remain with them.>
<You WILL contact me regularly. You will send transmissions not more than two standard weeks apart. If Reven is going to deploy you on a mission that will require transponder silence for a longer period of time, you will contact me beforehand whereupon I will be given a full briefing of the mission details. The orders I give supercede any orders you might receive from Reven or anyone else inside the rebellion. You will report to me and will not attempt to independently contact any other individual unless it is part of the mission, or involved in a mission assigned by Reven. I assume you understand what I mean. This assignment is a White Operation...informa tion is on a need-to-know basis.>
Ossanlin pauses a few moments before continuing. <I'm certain they will not trust you for a very long time...but you are to do what you can to ingratiate yourself and earn said trust. The more they trust you, the more they will be willing to reveal to you.> Ossanlin pulls a semi-modified Shredder from the compartment as well. <This shredder has been modified with extra heat synchs and a clear-carbon focusing lense. It has the standard settings of a normal Shredder, but it can also sustain a constant, high-intensity beam for cutting and fusing. It also has higher power settings that would allow you to burn your way through nearly anything. The highest setting is akin to a stunt-fighter cannon. It takes a great deal of time to recharge after it's maximum discharge, but the blast can obliterate a small ship.>
He holds the shredder out for Efaen as he continues. <There is also a side-mission involved. I know that there is another Andalite living voluntarily with the rebellion. She calls herself "Tora", though I do not know her full name. I assume that they will use her to try and integrate you. This works to our advantage. I want you to befriend Tora and learn her true identity and as much as you can about how she became involved with the rebellion. I would also like you to attempt to find out what Andalite secrets she may have leaked to the rebellion.>
<You will not reveal the details of either of these missions to the rebellion unless it is absolutely necessary. If Reven asks about your orders, you may simply mention that you wanted to join the rebellion for your own reasons and I granted you permission so that you might learn that not all Yeerks are Imperials. You are not allowed to share any details or suspicions about Halcyon with anyone, no exceptions. You are expressly forbidden from even revealing the existence of Halcyon to anyone. Most of our own people do not know about Halcyon, and that's the way it will stay.> He fixes Efaen with an intense stare before continuing.
<The manner of your acceptance into the rebellion will make you suspect without doubt, but once you develop a camaraderie, I believe that will not matter. Halcyon will also allow you to send us messages without raising suspicion.> He pauses once more before continuing. <This is an important assignment Efaen...you do not trust me, I can see that in your eyes and your actions, but you cannot allow your own suspicions to cloud your judgment. To be honest I would much rather send someone else, someone I know, someone I can depend upon, but this is the situation we've been given, and this is the best solution. I hope that our shared goal of witnessing the end of the Empire will be enough to guide your actions properly in this endeavor.>
He falls silent, watching Efaen intently with all four eyes.
-
~The Polkaris~
Assured that the pirate would be fine, Ewa stood up and moved away from Van so she could see both Rathien and Catie. She caught Rathien eyeing the cases of Vivalite and pursed her lips slightly. What am I going to do about that? she wondered. A moment to gather her thoughts led to a new question: What am I going to do now?
Clearly, some degree of character integration was necessary for continued survival in this place. It would help cover plans for escape. Ogreon had shown signs of having a real plan, but he was gone now--very possibly dead--leaving only a new insert playing as a fresh-faced young woman seeking adventure. Van had had no plans, so far as Ewa could tell, but the Vivalite represented an apparently significant source of capital that might be applied eventually. Not that I can imagine being desperate enough to use it. Of course if it was really helpful, it would have probably been harder to bring in.....
Ewa laughed and threw up her hands. "This is just all so ridiculous, isn't it?" she asked no one in particular. "Ahh..." she lowered her hands and half smiled, as if reminiscing. If nothing else, there is at least a crazy scape to enjoy with my last days. "I think the bar is calling me." Ewa danced lightly around Van's form to stand in the doorway and gave Rathien an arch look.
"If you're going to insist on taking things that don't belong to you, make sure you put them to good use." Her eyes traveled up and down his body. "That would not include fixing your clothes."
She turned to Catie, mirth mostly contained. "Shall we?"
-
Vogefac watched Artemis and Parker. Parker ran his fingers along the tattoos on her hand...
He looked to Claxter one more time, "Are you even aware of how and why they got together in the first-place? Is he a great warrior like Artem - Silver?"
Vogefac mentally cursed the preference of a byname. You're parents gave you a name when you were born. Unless your parents are disgraced, why would you dishonor them by changing your name?
Vogefac thought for a moment, "And one more question; does she have difficulty with her parents?"
Catie raised an eyebrow at Rathien's smile, "Lieutenant Catie Anderson. Nice to meet you."
Catie looked at Ewa strangely after the spontaneous outburst. But she seemed to calm down and suggested they leave to the bar, so Catie nodded, "Alright. Let's go."
-
<I can only assume they got together by meeting here and getting along quite well. Why? Well, I'm not one to ask about why Humans grow intimate with each other. Though sometimes things just seem to click. Unfortunately not everything works out wonderfully in the end.> He said, thinking on how much he liked Efaen, but how they would be separated and he wasn't sure she felt for him the same way he felt for her. <She gets along fine with her parents, but she was separated from them unwillingly for so long that she didn't have a normal idealic life.>
-
Silver watched as he traced her marks. "They had my powers all wacked up before they finally appeared." She looked at her markings and wondered slightly afraid of what her powers truly hold.
Jade stepped up beside Claxter and Vogefac over hearing a little of the conversation. "Her magick....I have never seen power stored like that. She had magick similar to mine but she carries all elements. But....how does she deal with the power and not go insane?" She asked them curiously.
-
"if the Doc were here right now she'd be shoving you towards the food," Gaz commented. "Since she's in the ship right now doing research on something, looks like that'll be my job. Come on, we can chit chat while Silver builds up her strength."
Inside the bar, Morgan and Julian were still chatting.
"So, what have you been up to these days, Julian?"
"I've been competing. Right now I'm reigning sword champion."
-
Vogefac looked at them again, once again disappointed at the information Claxter had given him. Obviously, Claxter was not a close associate of Artemis. But he knew just as much as Vigefac did. If he wanted to know about Parker...he might have to ask the man himself.
Then someone else came over to them and asked how Artemis controlled her magic.
Vogefac's eyeridges came down, "Magic does not exist. It is nothing but clandestine science. Artemis is a powerful warrior, but she does not have magic. However, in those terms, I have no idea how she manages to be so awe-inspiringly powerful. It is not often a Reptilinod Warrior is uncertain if he could take on an opponent, but I believe Artemis may be powerful enough to overtake me in a battle."
He remembered how she was the one that saved him - twice. He'd felt disgraced at first, that he should've been assisted by a female. But then as he got to know her he began to feel privileged that a great warrior like her had helped him, still just an inexperienced Sergeant.
"If you will excuse me.", Vogefac said to Jade and Claxter, and walked over to Artemis and Parker.
"Hello Artemis. Hello Parker. Once again, I apologize for the intrusion. I am not familiar with human customs, and therefore I do not know if I should be remaining absent from your conversation still. If you wish for me to leave you, please, just inform me. I will leave."
-
Parker was about to ask more about her abilities, when Vogefac approached. Parker motioned to the seat next to him, "Not at all, please do join us."
He then looked back to Silver and asked, "So what happened with your powers?"
The bartender approached the table and Parker ordered a plate of food. The bartender stays awaiting any orders from the others.
-
Vogefac nods and accepts parker's graciousness. He sits, slipping his tail through the hole in the back.
"I will take a Vlethath steak, with a side of chevver berry dip and a rev'maak ale.", Vogefac said definitely.
Then he turned back to Parker, while Artemis ordered, "I would like to ask you...two a few questions. Would mind informing me of how you met?"
-
Gaz was sitting at the table waiting for a bite to eat along with some rum.
Not long after they entered and sat down, Morgan turned and noticed them. He came over to the table and greeted them.
"Parker! It's good to see you. I'm glad to see you made it back here in one piece."
When Morgan saw Silver he suddenly seemed a little more timid. "Silver, I'm glad to see you again also. I hope that you can forgive me for..."
That was when Julian came over. "What's the idea of running off on me like that, huh? That any way to treat an old friend?"
-
<I am not really sure.> Claxter said to Jade. <I keep getting questions I can't answer properly. I will not say that magic does not exist, though as a member of a leading technological species I will say I prefer technology.>
-
Silver smiled up at Vogefac as he sat down and she ordered some food before Gaz got pushy. She knew she meant well. Before she could answer Vogefac, her father walked up and greeted Parker excitedly. When he turned to her he looked sad and she felt that in waves from him. Before he could finish asking for forgivness someone she didn't know interrupted him. Silver slowly stood up, holding up a hand to the others when they would have gotten up to help her, and with all the strength she could gather, she stepped to her father and hugged him as tight as she could. "Of course I forgive you....youre my father."
Jade watched the whole exchange confused. The animal man was her father? This place made no sense to her and she sometimes wondered if she was dreaming. Although she was sure that not even Saijiin could enduce this kind of dreaming.
-
When Silver hugged him, Morgan felt a wave if relief. He hadn't been sure what reaction to expect. The one he got was a surprise, but a pleasant one.
Julian's eyes widened when Silver called Morgan father.
"No way!" he exclaimed as he lowered his hand below his waist. "You can't really be telling me that's the littlest Morgan?"
Morgan chuckled. "Not so little anymore."
Julian thought a moment. "She obviously got her looks from Andromeda. Thankfully."
Morgan scowled at him, but there was no anger to it. It was something between friends.
Julian turned his attention to Silver. "Hi there. Name's Julian. Haven't seen you since you were a foal. I was at you birth celebration. Easy to spot in the pictures cuz I'm the handsome one."
"Nice to see you're still full of it," Morgan commented with a smirk.
-
Silver gave a slightly confused look to julien. "Don't take this personally....but I don't remember you...." She said with an apologetic look.
-
Julian shrugged it off. "No worries. You were a baby when I saw you last. Your father and I grew up together. And I'm guessing ol'bull head here never told you."
Julian shot a glance at Morgan who became very interested I'm the food in front of him.
"At the celebration of your birth, since neither this guy here or Andromeda had living relatives, I was named as your godfather."
"Hey, horseboy!" Morgan said. "eat your food."
"I do believe the fearless captain is afraid of the stories I could tell!" Julian exclaimed.
-
Before Silver could answer either Parker or Vogefac's question, Morgan came up and greeted them. Parker nodded his head to Morgan and let Silver have her moment with her family.
He turned to Vogefac and answered his question, "Well, since Silver's busy, I'll tell you. I was keeping tabs on the bar, making sure no one was hassling my friend Mike and Corliss. All of a sudden this vision walked into the bar," he nodded toward Silver, indicating her, "She wore a long cloak, and she had long dark blue hair, it was almost black; but what caught me, was her eyes. They were an amazing sapphire blue with this intense silver glow about them." Parker raised his eyebrows at the memory and darted his own gold hued dark green eyes, illustrating the signifigance of her eyes in relation to his.
"It was that moment that I knew... something. It was more than just attraction, it had to be. I was raised in the military. I've been around millions of women, and none of them struck me with any real emotion like she did. We talked about our lack of families, and troubled pasts... I don't know, we just bonded. She brought out all these emotions I thought I had discarded since I was 9 years old. She turned me from a military's death-machine, into a human being once more."
As he spoke, he stared both at and through Silver, lost in his memories of their time together. As he finished his story, he smiled at Silver, not really caring that he was staring at all. He looked down at the plates that the bartender brought and finished his answer, "So that's how we met; and how I knew that I love her."
Now, back in the moment, he turned to Gaz and said, "Gaz, I almost forgot. I need to take Thor out of your ship. He hasn't been too much trouble I hope? He can sometimes be a stick in the mud. Did he have any trouble following your orders while you were doing your jobs?"
-
Al looked to the cat-like creature that'd spoken to him and laughed. If he was at all surprised by Noah's speaking to him in her current form, it didn't show. "Tactician? Hardly. I'll never understand why you squishy beings all think it's necessary to learn to fight each other. I might be able to help somehow. It'd help if you guys knew more about what you're getting into." He shook his head at Sami, "I don't think Salem knows much about magic. I know I don't. Not like you're talking about, anyway." He nodded, "Alright, I'll be as quick as I can. Let me see if I can't get Salem to help you guys out." Without waiting for a response, he turned and jogged out the door and towards Salem's ship.
Salem climbed to his feet, shaking his head and his wrist. He was aching all over... but he'd flown! It had been far from professional. Or graceful. Heck, it'd barely been passable, but it was still flying.
He smiled at Mar, "Seems to me you're kinda walking in both worlds, here. A bit of immortal power in a mortal body. There's got to be some kind of advantage to being mortal, right?" He stretched as best as he could- his wrist was still throbbing. He walked over to the 'workbench' that was in the middle of the floor and began rifling through the junk sitting on it. "So... will I be able to do that without your help?" He closed his eyes, briefly, then opened them again. Either the sense was weaker without Mar's help, or it was gone entirely and he was just imagining it now.
At that moment, Al jogged up the ship's open ramp. "Hey, Mar. Hey, Salem. Guys, one of the bar's patrons was sucked into some kind of magic portal. Two people back there are looking for help. I told them I'd talk to you."
Salem's eyebrows shot up. This was... unusual, to say the least. "Who was taken? Who's asking?"
Al shook his head, "You don't know either group. Newcomers. But it sounds like they're in for more than they're ready for."
Salem's face now displayed a look of confusion, "They politically powerful? Or, like, technologically advanced enough for this to be worthwhile?"
Al shook his head again, lowered his voice, and stepped closer to Salem, "I thought you might be interested in making some more friends here."
Salem chuckled, "Friends are your department, dude, and you know it. You're way too sympathetic for an android. With my luck, one of these people is Rathien's lackey. Or another hunter sent here to kill me. If one can track me down, the rest can as well."
Al and Salem continued to argue, Al stepping closer to Salem and both of them lowering their voices until Mar would no longer be able to make out the words.
-
Jocun was heading back, wearing a protective vest and helmet, while carrying a dracon rifle strapped to his back. One again he looked like an Imperial, and his demeanor was serious. His subordinates didn't like the idea of him leaving somewhere, but there was little anyone could do about it. He had a communicator with him that would hopefully allow him to contact his ship from the other side.
-
Sami smiles at Al. "Any knowledge at all would help." She watched him jog off, eyes lowering to the ground until she heard footsteps, and looked up to see Jocun returning. She smiled, nodding her approval about his armor. She turned and started towards the tree and where Grun was. "Come on. Let us at least see what is going on." She didn't wait to see if anyone else was following. She walked towards the portal, but stopped about 15 feet away when she could feel it starting to pull her in. She took a few steps back, releasing herself from its gravitational pull. "No closer until we are ready to go."
-
Without further ado, Ewa stepped lightly back out of the doorway and made her way out of the ship. Descending through the hatchway, she reached up and tapped a random pattern along the hull of the ship until it stretched out of her reach.
Once she had rounded the corner of the bar she saw a woman in a cloak with some kind of large cat near a twisty tree. An older man uniformed for combat was walking towards them. Ewa thought she might have seen him before. Or at least the uniform. She started to hum, idly, waiting for a song to stick in her head.
Arriving at the bar's entrance, Ewa opened the door and paused, blinking as her eyes adjusted. She scanned the room for any familiar faces, but though the bar was as busy as it had been before, everyone she saw was new to her. Crazy turnover in this place. She ignored the possibly dark edge of that thought and turned to Catie.
"Anyone you know?"
-
~Rathien~
Rathien sighs as the two females leave. He glances again at the mostly motionless form of Van. "Why did you have to go brain-dead on me right when things were getting interesting? Psh..." He bends down to pick up the vial of Vivalite that Ewa had been manipulating and places it in a pocket of his armored tunic before giving Van one last glance and exiting the room, descending the ramp of the posh vessel. He catches a glimpse of Ewa and the new female entering the bar. He surveys the situation seeing random groups of people around the area. He runs his tongue over both fangs before pulling out the ARC he'd liberated so long ago and scans for Tobias' technology readings.
He steps back up into Van's ship long enough to activate his active camouflage out of view, and then descends again heading off in the direction he believes will lead to Tobias' ship.
-
Noah listens to the footsteps of Al leaving and heard the footsteps of someone else coming closer who turned out to be Jocun. She turns her dreamy unfocusing eyes on Jocun as he comes closer subconsciously. It brought her attention back from her deep thoughts to focus on his outfit. She ****ed her head to the side and just watched him, eyeing the armor. Noah couldn't help but walk over to him to get a closer look. She had never seen armor like his, especially the design. She got within a foot of him and inched her face closer as she sniffed the armor trying to see what it was made out of. She almost pressed her nose against his stomach before she pulled back huffed through her nose and shook her head. She circled him getting a good look at it all then sat back in front of him for a moment.
Once she heard Sami's voice she snapped out of her curiosity and pulled herself back to what needed to be done. Noah ran over to Sami and brushed her head against her hand to get her attention. She tried to walk in front of her to talk, but felt an odd tug coming from the portal. She growled at it and bared her teeth then walked to Sami's side where it was very mild. She calmed then looked back at her.
"I need a moment of her time before we go. It is of great importance." She spoke with an edge of a growl still feeling like her skin wanted to be pulled off of her body from the portal.
-
Efaen takes the modified Shredder, inspecting it before slipping it into her empty holster. She is glad for the heft of the weapon; she has been without for far too long.
<Yes, my Prince,> she says, trying not to show offense when he states he would rather someone else complete the mission. <I will complete this mission, as well as the side missions you have detailed, with the utmost of care. I fully intend on utilizing this advantage to help bring about the destruction of the Empire. I will not harm that cause.>
She ducks her stalk eyes respectfully, keeping her tone even. <I thank you for allowing me this opportunity. It is a great honor. I will not disappoint you.>
-
Sami smiled as Noah pushed her head against her hand. She patted her gently, watching her as she tried to move in front of her, but didn't seem to like the tug of the portal either. She looked down at her as Noah sat by her side. "What is it you need, Noah?" She crouched beside her newfound friend, their green eyes meeting. Not in a hostile way, but Sami liked to make eye contact when talking.
-
Gaz shook her head. "He hasn't been any trouble at all. Asda says he's been a great help with some medical research she's been doing and sorting through information from the facility computer."
-
Vogefac nodded as Parker explained.
"I am not an advocate of the human idea of 'love-at-first-sight.' However, I am glad you found the one who you feel you will be with for the rest of your life."
He took a nonchalant sip of his ale, "Parker, I must ask you: are you a great warrior like Artemis?"
Catie follows Ewa. When she asks if she knows anyone in the Bar, Catie looks into the bar.
"I don't know him, really, but I ran into that Reptilinod earlier. The yellow reptile with the horns and claws. Are we going?"
-
Jocun watched Noah warily as she came up to him and circled around. He didn't say anything, but just kept an eye on her. "I don't suppose we have a way to investigate the inside of the portal before just going through? Due to the pull, I'm hoping we'll be able to leave the same way we come."
-
Ewa looked back over at the person Catie had indicated. "Violent looking fellow," she commented, offhand. She stepped into the bar, holding the door open. "After you, Lieutenant."
-
Silver gave another confused look and one of shock to find that she had a god-father. But what really drew her attention was that at the mention of her past her birth celebration get father became guarded. She turned to him, now using the table to help her stand up. "Father....there is something youre not telling me. I can feel it, see it....." She said giving him a skeptical look.
Jade watched sipping her drink. She wondered just how much her powers were in-tuned with her emotions. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be here. She stepped closer to the little group side stepping the bartender
-
Before Morgan could reply, Julian was still on a nostalgia kick. He pulled out a picture and showed it to Silver.
"Check this out. It's a picture from your birth celebration. Gotta say, you were being held by the best lookin guy in the room. That would be me."
The picture showed a small group of people, Morgan or Andromeda weren't in the picture, one of them must have been holding the camera. Julian was indeed holding a small baby in the picture, but the one thing that stood out was the fact that Julian looked exactly the way he currently did, part horse and everything. The only difference was the fact that he obviously looked younger.
-
Noah's eyes showed worry as Sami knelt down in front of her, though the rest of her features were harder to read in the leopard's form. She tried to lower her voice, but it made it more difficult to talk clearly. Her voice rumbled through her neck as a growl would, but some how formed into words.
"It would not be a wise idea for me to enter the portal like this. My control is not 100% and I can only do so much. I need to shift back, but we do not have the time for the rest I need after I shift. If I am to shift and keep going, I'll need absorb someone's energy as I do it. I need 2 willing donors for this so I won't incompasitate anyone. It'll make them a little weak for about 5 minutes, but they will be fine afterwards." She paused for a moment, thinking over how to say the next part.
"I was truly hoping you won't be offended by my asking if you would lend me some energy. It is not my wish to weaken you, I wouldn't if I knew any other way. But I will need one other person, and I don't know these people well enough to ask. The only other person I've even spoken to is Jocun, but he already seems on edge about me and draining his essence wouldn't put me any higher there." Her eyes drifted over to Jocun as she spoke about him, then back to the woman in front of her as she finished.
"Would you please help me with this? I would be a greater asset as a human than like this and I will repay my debt to you." Her tone was serious under the rumbling of her voice.
-
"I wouldn't want to be drained right before jumping through this portal, nor would I want to wait five more minutes while your friend's fate hangs in the balance. This is...a hard decision to make, and time is not on our side."
-
Noah nods looking grim and keeps her head down as she speaks.
"It's not an easy decision, I know, but know this. I am asking for two people when I only need one. If I take two, they will re cooperate quickly. Grab something to eat afterwards and all you'll feel is a little tired. That's how it was the last time I had to do this. The first 5 minutes were the worst of it, a little sluggish and yawning quite a bit, but that was it." She turned her pleading eyes on Jocun seeing that he overheard her dilemma.
-
She seemed sincere, so Jocun walked over towards her and held out his hand. "Alright. I'll do it. Time is of the essence, and all that."
-
Noah just shook her head and looked at Sami.
"I can't I need two people both at the same time. I can't store energy to use it at a later date. I need to know if Sami will too. If not, I need to find someone else." She kept her desperate eyes on Sami not wanting to have to ask a complete stranger to let her siphon energy off of them like some kind of leach.
-
Parker overhears Silver's conversation, and keeps it in his mind. He nods gratefully towards Gaz, thankful Thor is still okay. He turns back to Vogefac and replies, "Yes. I, like my bretheren are the most advanced soldiers in my species. I was taken as a child and raised as a soldier. When I was 16, I underwent a procedure that enhanced my body. I was then given his armor, which amplifies my abilities even more. When I'm paired with an Artificial Intelligence unit, it makes my reactions and thought processes even more sharpened and honed.
"We SPARTANs are the most feared 'warriors' in our galaxy. Our enemies, the Covenant, have deemed us the title of 'Demon'. I quite like the thought of our presence causing such affect with their forces, that it demoralizes them. To some of their soldiers, they view it as a challenge, but the lower classes just run away from us when we get close to them."
Parker tilts his head quizzically, "Why do you ask?" He grips his helmet, set by his side, fearing a challenge. He had no wish to fight, just being reunited with Silver.
-
Sami smiled and nodded at Noah once she was finally done talking with Jocun. She held out her hand. "I am completely willing to help, Noah. I cannot leave you in this state if you are better off in your human state." Her green eyes sparkled with a hint of magic as she stood up, letting her hand rest on Noah's hand. She may not like magic all that much, but she respected those that used it, especially since she herself was basically made up of magic, like all the other Changelings. "Healers on my planet use the life forces of weeds and other such things to help revive people. It is really quite simple. Using other people is not as simple, but I have been used before by the Healers, so I know what it feels like."
-
As Al and Salem continued to speak quietly, Salem found what he'd been rummaging for- a small, matte black device with green streaks, that looked something like a four-legged spider. He clamped it over his wrist and said something to it aloud, then went back to speaking to Al. After a few seconds, it emitted a short buzzing sound, and he removed it from his wrist, set it back on the bench, and flexed his wrist a few times- it appeared to be at least feeling better.
Finally, Salem shook his head, turned, and walked to one wall of the craft. "Fine," he said loudly to Al. "I'll talk to them. Just don't get your hopes up. I've never really seen either of us as the 'Knight in Shining Armor" type." He gently ran his hand along the wall, and a compartment opened in front of him- this one held what looked like a large helmet of metallic framework. He pulled it out and set it on his head, gently, where it began emitting a blue glow.
Al laughed, "Yeah, not sure shining armor's really a fashion statement I want to make at the moment."
Salem rolled his eyes, "You and your fashion... I'm sure there's some planet somewhere where shining armor is fashionable."
Al shook his head, "Nope. I've looked. Even when used as a status symbol, shining armor always just makes you look like a jerk."
Salem laughed, in spite of himself. "Okay, give me just a minute here, and we can go." The glow on the 'helmet' he'd been wearing died, and he placed it back in its compartment, which immediately closed, leaving no visible seam. He then pulled up his right pant leg, removed what looked like a gun made from copper pipe that he had strapped there, and began sending thought-speak commands to the ship, causing several displays to appear on the walls and ceiling near him. Most of them were writing, in the Atazin galactic language, but one in particular showed an abbreviated version of recent events in and around the bar, as viewed by his ship. Some of the more recent events began replaying, with colors and symbols and labels pointing out different people and actions that had taken place. Salem half payed attention as he continued to scroll through another wall of text and communicate with the computer via thought-speak.
Al, in the meantime, crossed his arms, leaned back against the 'workbench,' and smiled at Mar. "So how're things?"
-
Silver held the picture in her hand looking at her as a baby. Of course she didn't remember because of her age but she hadn't been taken from her parents untill she was roughly five years old. "Were you...always like this? I mean....Father is this way because of CG as am I...." she was slightly lost. She looked to Morgan then. "What is it you're. Keeping from me?" She was just reunited with Parker and her father and now her god-father she didn't want a fight on her hands but she knew something was wrong.
-
Noah's eyes brightened but didn't smile because she didn't want to frighten them off after they had just agreed to do something for her. She sat down and held out a paw to each of them being careful not to nick either of them. She took a deep breath and spoke before beginning.
"If either of you have any metaphysical guards up, please let them down. It will be much harder if you don't." She closed her eyes and let down her barriers with ease as if she were unclenching her hand. Her power flower out of her body and around her like rain in summer time. She breathed it inside her then let it flow out of her two front paws to mingle with their essence. She let her power roam inside of them caressing in places never meant to be touched by hands. It found the heart of their life energy and began to tug it back out of its safe cavern and out to the light. Where the skin met in each hand, it began to heat like a growing fire. It neared the edge of unbearable tipping on that fine line.
The energy shot up her arms like electricity, energizing her in the most satisfying way. Noah took in a ragged breath suffocating against the press of unused power. She let her body begin to shift back to human form. Her fur began to melt away, tucking itself back beneath her skin. Her jaw shortened, teeth shrinking as her facial features reshaped. Popping sounds started as the rest of her body began to change. Her body tried to reshape her torso and limbs but it began to slow for she was running low on power to supply it. Noah pulled at the heat in their hands taking as little as she could but enough to pull her through the shift. Slowly her hands regained their delicate shape and torso shrunk while her C cup breasts formed again. Her legs lengthened and returned to their bare and hairless origin.
Noah clung to their hands as she sat there on her knees panting letting the power reseed from their hands and back to the dark caverns they came from. She let her hands slip from theirs to help her balance before toppling over to the ground. Once her breath began to slow she looked up at them smiling, though, weak. Her eyes shined with unshed tears part from pain and joy of having it work.
"Thank you, truly thank you. Both of you." She mustered up enough energy to stand, though wobbly on just two feet instead of four. She exposed herself to the world by standing there nude, but she didn't care. It had worked and she was happy. Her hair was mildly matted from the blood of the creature and flakes of blood were stained on her face and neck. But her hair still hung forward and covered her breasts, though everything else was unprotected. She picked up her clothes and started to put them back on layer by layer. She secured her weapons in place and made sure they were snug. Noah stretched her body being a little stiff from the change. She smiled brilliantly and hugged them both in one swift motion.
"Thank you!!"
-
Morgan and Julian both looked confused, but for different reasons. To Morgan's knowledge, he wasn't hiding anything. But ever since Julian had appeared, there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he couldn't identify.
"What's this about the CG now?" Julian asked. After Gaz explained everything, Julian was wide-eyed.
"Those bastards," Julian said quietly. "Morgan, those guys really did a number on you."
Morgan grunted. "Tell me about it."
"No," Julian said quickly. "You don't understand just how much they messed you up."
"What are you talking about?" Gaz asked.
Julian pulled out another photo, but didn't show it yet. He seemed hesitant at first, but then his mind seemed made up. He had to finish what he started.
"The CG did something to you, no mistake about that. But not what you think they did. What they did is worse than you know. I'm going to show you something. It's a picture of the two of us from University..."
"Will you get to the point?" Morgan interrupted.
Julian sighed before setting the picture down on the table. "We've known each other since we were kids. And as long as I've known you, Morgan...you've always looked the way you do. Always."
-
Jocun sat down as his energy fled him. It had been tireing, as Noah had said, but he would be ok. "You're welcome." He said as she thanked them. He avoided gazing at any body part she should have covered. "As soon as you're dressed, we should be ready to head through."
-
Vogefac shook his head, "No particular reason...but that is a very interesting autobiography. My entire race has undergone several genetic campaigns. I am one of the first specimens of Delta Generation, our third genetic enhancement. We too are the most feared warriors in our galaxy. Even the Alliance would rather not risk a fight with us, and their technology is...slightly more advanced than ours. And, during one of the battles in which Silver and I stood side by side, my legs and arms were eaten off. Now, my arms and legs were replaced with biocyber implants, metallic bones and claws with biological skin and muscle. Two foot claws are sufficient - two foot metallic claws are superior.", he finished, looking at his hand-claws.
"Perhaps we are not so disimilar.", he said.
-
Parker nodded with respect towards Vogefac's story. He relaxed his grip on his helmet. He rose an eyebrow at the mention of Vogefac's legs being "eaten", but otherwise kept an understanding expression. When Vogefac mentioned that the two of them were not so dissimilar, Parker said, "Vogefac, the only difference I see between us is you don't have to worry about being sunburnt." He smiles before continuing, "Besides, though I may not have claws, I do have some very impressive blades."
Parker doesn't show any of his weapons to illustrate his comment; but on his chest lays a field knife, and the katana crossing his back is easily visible as well. Though neither of these are the blades he speaks of, anyone listening would surely assume those were the blades to which he was referring.
While listening to Silver's conversation, he was suprised to hear that Morgan had always been a Minotaur. There could only be one of two explanations: either Morgan had been grossly altered, psychologically, or Julian had. His eyes flash to the threesone standing by the table with sharp interest, listening further.
-
Sami shivered as Noah's energy and power flowed into her, touching everything it crossed paths with s it searched for her inner life force. Sami could feel Noah tugging it out, and resisted the urge quite well to pull it back in. Soon, her hand felt like it was on fire, making her want to gasp out in pain and pull it away, but she didn't/ She knew the contact was crucial. Once Noah was donw, she hugged her hand to her chest as the pain subsided. She smiled and nodded as Noah hugged her and Jocun, not even noticing that she had been naked a few moments before. Sami herself forgot she was wearing a cloak when she whipped around, exposing the profile of her nude form before the cloak fell back over it. "Al said he was getting a friend of his to join us, so as soon as he gets here, Grun can take us through."
-
Noah nods to both of them when they spoke unable to stop from smiling.
"Alright, then that gives me just enough time to go clean up and get back." Before anyone could respond she ran faster than humanly possible past them and into the bar. The door crashed opened and banged against the wall with a deafening sound. She dashed into the woman's bathroom and finally stopped a little dizzy. She couldn't help but start laughing not caring if the bar patrons over heard. When she finally stopped she stared into the mirror wide eyed shocked by how extensive the blood cover was. It was caked over her right eye and down the right side of her face. There were splotches randomly all over her neck down to her collar bone. Her auburn hair was matted and redder than usual from the dried blood.
Noah turned on the water faucet and cupped her hands beneath it letting the water run over her blood stained hands. She scrubbed her hands until they were clean then splashed her face with water. She used soap and eased the dry flecks off of her face until they moistened and came clean. She doused her hair with water and scrubbed until the water ran clear. Noah slicked it back into a pony tail letting a few strands stay free. She walked out of the bathroom and glanced over the crowd in the bar not recognizing any of them. Some were creatures she'd never seen before. Noah slipped on her sun glasses and walked out of the bar back to Sami and Jocun hoping she was fast enough.
-
Grun had dozed off when Sami and a few others had come near the portal, however upon hearing his name he slowly woke up. He had his back turned to the group so he did not see Noah leave. When Grun turned around he immediately saw Sami and flapped over to land on her right shoulder. He gave the strange man a challenging caw, as if to say 'Stay away'.
After his challenge had been delivered, Grun began nuzzling Sami's neck for comfort. He looked at the portal and cawed in a very quiet and somber tone. It almost sounded as if Grun was crying as he continued to nuzzle Samis neck.
-
Ewa was nearly bowled over as someone sped past Catie into the bar. She pressed her body back towards the wall and inhaled sharply. Although there hadn't been time to get a look at whatever it was, s/he/it left a scent of blood in its wake.
Frowning back towards the bathrooms where the person had disappeared, Ewa tugged her coat straight and rested her fingers near the knife strapped to her wrist. "Was whoever that was injured?" she asked.
She turned her head sharply to see if the person had been pursued, but there was no one new in sight, and no one heading towards the bar. When she returned her attention to the bar, a young woman with wet, reddish hair was coming out of the bathrooms. Ewa watched her as she put on sunglasses and strode back out the door without even a glance at her or Catie.
"Terrible attitude problem," Ewa commented, her lip curling slightly. "Come on, let's get inside before something like that happens again." She motions for Catie to move ahead.
-
~Ossanlin~
<I hope so, Warrior.> He keeps his main eyes focused on Efaen with the same intensity. <You are not to harm or hinder the Yeerk rebels in any way unless you deem it to be absolutely necessary. I do hope I'm being clear enough. If they are engaging in conduct that seems to be counter-productive to our goals, you need to contact me as soon as it is viable for you to do so. Your position amongst them is worth more than stopping a single plot.> He places a hand on Efaen's shoulder to be absolutely sure that she would fully understand the seriousness in his tone. <Only as a last defense of your life or another's, or at the threat of imminent infestation are you to compromise your position with or cause harm to the rebels, is this clearly understood?>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Rathien~
Rathien gets a better fix on the unique tech readings that Tobias tends to emit and jogs with a bit more purpose, finally approaching the trader's ship. He loosens his Entroper in its holster in case it's necessary and stands at the bottom of the ramp, a bit off to one side, active camouflage still engaged. He takes a surreptitious glance up the ramp and waits patiently. If the trader hadn't high-tailed it already, he probably wasn't planning on leaving just yet.
-
Catie is all but knocked on her butt by the person who runs past them. After she exits again, Catie silently agrees with Ewa and walks in. She sits down at a table and orders a Root Beer and Cansrian Yaat steak.
Vogefac attempts a smile. The corners of his mouth turn up just a millimeter, and then go back down.
Parker seems to shift his focus to Artemis and her friends, but Vogefac isn't finished...
"If you do not mind my asking, what was your most major engagement? And have you ever lost to your opponent?"
-
Claxter had been silently enjoying his drink, lazily scanning the bar with his stalk eyes when he saw a woman come streaking past, covered in blood and giggling. He wasn't sure if he should investigate that or just chalk it up to the strangeness of the bar.
Jocun got up, and noticed the bird fly to Sami and start cawing angrily at him. "Seems someone is playing favorites. I'd give a peace offering, but I don't have any food on me."
-
Silver looked at the picture then at Morgan and Julien. "I'm confused..." She said softly. "If father had always been this way then what was it the CG were trying to accomplish?" She asked. She couldn't take standing anymore and had to sit down but she didn't eat yet.
-
"Julian, explain this," Morgan said in a tone that left no room for questions.
"I had heard stories, but I never believed them because there was no proof. One time I was in this tavern and there was a CG worker about as drunk as anything. He was upset about some kind of psych experiment, mental conditioning or whatever. If you were taken...that must have been what they did."
"Do you know why they picked me?"
Julian sighed. "There are a lot of anti-myth sentiment around. Myths being what some call people like us. When I heard what happened to your home I knew it mist have been an anti-myth group. By the time I got there you were gone and officials wouldn't talk to me."
Gaz had been quiet the the whole time. "I'm going to message Asda. I wonder if there's anything about this in the files we swiped from the database. She can send them to my computer pad."
-
"I still don't understand.....so my powers...I was born with them?....And if they had all ready messed with my mind.....why place the memory blocker within Fletcher and I?" She tried to wrap get mind around it all but it was difficult.
-
Mar watches Salem wander the area with some interest, confused about whatever the trader was doing. The Highest crosses his arms, rolling his eyes. The man was far too busy, and he seemed to have quickly forgotten something fairly important. Even with the headache roiling through his head, Mar could tell when he was owed something. His lips curled into a frown. "Dear Salem...I require payment for my service. The rock you promised me. It may be more..urgh...diffic ult without a direct line to me...it...but you should still be able to see it now."
Quite abruptly the annoying robot blurts something out to him. Mar snarls. "Do you get some kind of perverse pleasure out of irritating people? My head is reeling."
-
Sami smiled when Grun landed on her shoulder, and she petted his wing softly. She laughed softly at Jocun. "I am probably the only person on this asteroid that he knows. He hardly knows Noah." She continued petting Grun as Noah returned, turning towards the portal. "This may be all we have... I was hoping Al and his friend could come, but it seems they may have gotten caught up with something else."
-
Noah looked around to see if they had come back sad to see that they were no where in site. She brought her eyes back toward the portal as it gave off an ominous blue glow. She took a deep breath and stepped a foot in front of them.
"I'm ready when you both are." She was truly terrified and her heart fluttered with it, but she knew someone's Love was on the line and she couldn't let sorrow take hold of Sami, not if should could help it. Noah realized she didn't truly know Sami, but was still willing to throw her life down on the line even though the odds were against them. She didn't know why she was, but knew deep down that the look they shared played a big part with her. Part of her was even jealous that Sami was so lucky.
-
Salem turned back to Mar, "Of course, Highest. Least I can do." He walked over to the bin in which he kept most of his All-materials, opened it... and stopped, his heart jumping into his throat. There, inside, he could definitely 'see' the tendrils. They seemed to curl inside and through themselves, being absorbed and twisted and violently warped as they passed near and through the stones contained within. Even with his sense for them as weak as it was, he could tell that these materials were not normal.
He shook his head, trying to focus on what was in the bin visually. After a few seconds, he reached in, grabbed a shiny gun-metal grey stone about the size of his fist, and closed the bin. He looked away and closed his eyes. He couldn't even begin to make sense of the mess in there at the moment. The stone in his hand, though... when a tendril passed it, it seemed to be sucked inside. It was strange... Salem could barely see the things, but when they got close to the Allstone, it was as though they became excited and concentrated. He could definitely see them then, and trace them from that point. Aside from that, the stone itself seemed to be constantly exuding the darkness... or whatever it was... that the tendrils themselves were made of. With his eyes closed, it appeared as a spot of darkness... oddly enough, however, it also emitted bits of 'light' that felt similar to his 'soul' that he'd had to find.
Al, in the meantime, seemed oblivious to Salem's apparent disorientation. He shrugged at Mar, "Sorry, didn't realize you weren't feeling well. Would you like anything? Cerebral mending tablets? Ocular juice upgrade? Aspirin?"
After a few moments of standing, mesmerized by the strange sense the thing was giving him, Salem shook his head and stepped over to Mar. He held the stone out to him, "Least I can do. Thank you, Highest."
-
Parker continued to listen to Silver's conversation though his main focus was on Vogefac. He answered, ¨I lost. We lost... so much. Entire worlds lost. Glassed out of existence. ... My home... A planet called Reach. It was where I was trained, where I was reborn as a SPARTAN.¨
Parker's memories of the fight to save his planet surface from deep inside him, where he thought he had buried them. He stares far off towards a vision seen only in his head. Recalling all of the death and destruction he had witnessed. All of the brave Marines and Shock Troopers giving their lives to safeguard his home. The lives of his bretheren that had been lost in that fight. The deluge of enemies that flooded the fields and forests. Overtook towns, cities, even small farming communities filled with families. Slaughtering millions of Humans just for being Human.
Parker doesn't speak for a moment, letting those memories and emotions wash over him and back into the place they had been kept, deep within his mind.
-
((Sorry for the double post, PS3 gives me a character limit on this text box))
He looks to Vogefac, a single tear was running down his cheek, he smiles, ¨ Yeah, we've had quite a few losses.¨ His smile disappears instantly as he begins to eat the meal he had ordered.
-
Vogefac stops chewing a moment and watches the tear run down Parkers face.
After swallowing, "My apologies, Parker. For all your losses. And my apologies again, for not specifying a major engagement that ended in victory."
-
Efaen stiffens slightly at Ossanlin's close proximity, struggling not to flinch away from his touch.
<Yes, sir,> she says, meeting his gaze and holding it. <I understand. I will not do anything to harm the rebellion, unless it becomes absolutely necessary. I will contact you if such a situation arises, in addition to regular transmissions.>
She inhales deeply through her nose slits, pulling herself as upright as possible. She still does not trust Ossanlin; she still thinks that he is far too close to the Yeerk rebellion, but she also knows that this is her chance to prove herself a true warrior. That fact alone is enough for her to, at least temporarily, shunt her suspicions to the side.
<I will not disappoint you, my Prince.>
-
"The four of us will head through now, then. Expect trouble as soon as we enter." Jocun said while unholstering his weapon. "If we meet anyone, and they attack, we'll want to keep at least one alive for questioning. If we meet anyone, and they don't attack, don't be the first to act hostile. We'll be on their turf, so act with caution. That's my advice, anyway. Take it or leave it."
After his speech, he stepped forward and the portal started pulling him through.
-
Ewa followed Catie to her table, but hesitated to sit. Instead she tapped her fingers along the back of the chair as Catie ordered. I thought she'd have people she'd want to talk to. Well, or would be interested in talking to at least. Ewa didn't know what more to ask the young Lieutenant, but throwing a new character into the mix might liven things up a bit.
"I ate not all that long ago, if you'll excuse me in not joining you," she explained to Catie. Ewa looked at the yellowish Reptillinod that Catie had pointed out, but he seemed well occupied with some sort of cybernetic being and a group of characters who looked more myth-based than most of the bar. Closer at hand, she saw a young woman with brown hair staring at a man in a cloak who seemed to have folded up into his own world. She was dressed in a jumpsuit that might have once been black, but was now bastardized with various bits of armor and additions. Her face had that partially sunken look of the constantly weary.
"I'll be back in just a sec," she excused herself before approaching the jumpsuited woman.
"Excuse me," she said to get the woman's attention. "Hello," she smiled a little bit in greeting. "I'm Ewa. If I'm not interrupting or anything, I was wondering if you'd maybe like to join me and my friend at our table." She indicated Catie. "You look tired."
-
Sami gave Noah a quick smile, one of relief and thanks. She, too, stepped forward, but continued walking instead of letting the portal just pull her. She would be the first one through, with Grun on her shoulder. She held onto him a bit tightly, not knowing what would happen as she walked towards the swirling mass of magic. So she wanted to makre sure they didn't get separated. "I hope you know what to do.." she muttered to Grun.
-
Noah nodded agreeing to Jocun's advice. She took a deep breath and let it out to clear her head. She left her weapons where they were intending to keep them hidden. Though, she did gather some of her power and centered it in her hands so if need be, her hands would turn to claws instantly without a delay.
She stepped forward after Jocun and Sami letting the portal pull her through in a stomach lurching rush.
-
Grun tightened his grip on Samis shoulder as she walked towards the portal. She rested her hand upon him and held him in place as she walked through. Jocun and Noah followed shortly after Sami. The land was once again silent and the portal continued to flash. After a moment the portal began to slowly dim and shrink until it disappeared all together.
*******************************************************************************************
High above the planet there was a flicker of pseudomotion and a strange ship appeared out of hyperspace. The ship as well as its pilot have been to this place before. It has been five long years since the ship and its pilot has been to the planet. According to the sensors the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar was still standing after all these years.
The ship had a very strange shape and look to it and was obviously custom-built. It had the shape of a giant bird with its wings swept forward. The wide forward-swept wings were a deep, dark green in color. From above there was a silver stripe that began where the wings met the body and traveled all the way to the tip of the wings right in the center of them. Its body was a deep dark blood red in color. The head was bright gold in color and housed the c.ockpit.
It was powered by three Ludak T-9000 engines, which formed the tail, and had the ability to make .7 in hyperspace. He had installed two Nukul scram jets under the tip of each wing allowing him to flip the ship 180 degrees to face backwards along his flight path, but maintain his forward momentum. As the ship descended towards the planet and extended its landing gear, which looked like large flat talons, and landed right near the shore of the lake. Its weapons systems included two double laser cannons at the end of each wing. It also had two cruise torpedo launchers on the end of each wing. In the rear of the ship there was a double laser cannon and two concealed cruise torpedo launchers.
The ship extended its landing ramp and the pilot walked down to the shore. It had been five years, but the pilot remembered everything about the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar. The forest, the lake, the bartender even, however one thing remained in his mind. One person who had mesmerised him with her beauty and unique personality when he first spoke with her.
Jade the name echoed through his mind as her beautiful face appeared before his minds eye. Her eyes the shape of ymsuht seeds with thick lashes and the color of Lupymd. Her skin soft and smooth and had a lnays color. Her lips the color of nuca flowers and looked as soft as the petals. Her ears curiously pointed which was so very unique. After all this time away he realized that he may be in love with Jade.
The man began walking toward the Bar and within a few moments he was at the door. He walked in and stood in the doorway, looking around, looking for Jade. His physique resembled human however his clothing prevented further comparison. He wore black boots that were made of an unknown material that resembled soft leather. He wore a long trench coat that was a dark green in color and was made of a heavier material than his boots and was currently unfastened and slightly open. His shirt and pants seemed to be made of the same material as his boots and the same dark green color as his coat. His face was hidden behind a mask made of that same soft leather-like material and was black in color. His eyes were covered by a black visor of some sort though was as mysterious as the person himself. His hair ran to mid-back, bound in a ponytail with what looked like a chain. The hair on top of his head was a blood red in color, however the hair in his ponytail was silver in color.
Lucan Bristow had finally returned.
-
Mar nods glumly and takes the stone, glancing over it with interest. He reaches out and touches the stone with his hand, tenatively however. He is not clear on what he is looking at: it is not blackburn and it is not the dreaded Claria. It appears to be much like the "starstuff" that was everywhere when the multiverse was first made. He wonders if wasting it would be unwise, but he is in dire straits. His plans are malformed and his mind is wasted on a mortal shape.
Contact with the substance results in (at least to to Salem) the tendrils lashing out and connecting to Mar's hand. Mar grins as he proceeds to drain the energy from the stone. It is shockingly compressed: Mar's headache increases in strength and then suddenly dissipates. He doesn't look all that different, but his stance seems to have changed.
"How has such an obscure universe come by so potent a source of power?" states Mar, speaking to Salem in what's suddenly a carefully measured voice. "It appears that in the universal draw...your race of mortals was very blessed. The substance cannot free me of this condition, but my sense of self is sharper. For now. Such cognitive rises and falls have happened in the Bar before, as a consequence of its mischievous owner."
-
Jade was watching the three talking shocked that some creatures were actually born the way they were. Though where she came from they had Wargs and Foo Dogs. Only one dragon lives now. And with the Tengu and Oni she shouldn't have been all that surprised. Someone walked into the bar and she was curious to see who or what it was. She was by the bar close to Silvers table but stilla ways off. When she had turned to look she had taken her cloak off hanging it on her chair.
-
As Lucan looked around the bar for Jade he saw her eyes first. The Lupymd color of her eyes shone through the gloom of the bar and called to him. He saw that she was near a table that had a strange creature that looked like a Nabdema, as well as a being cased in armor and a female.
Smiling inwardly Lucan walked to the bar and sat in a stool approximately five feet from Jade. He reached up with a hand in a fingerless glove, revealing dark blue skin on his finger, and removed his face mask, but left his visor on. His face from the nose down to the middle of his neck was revealed to have dark blue skin, and had a wet sheen to it. There were spots, about the size of a dime, on his skin and although they were all a uniform color that color changed randomly. There was a silver stripe that ran down his nose and over his lips and down to his neck. It was possible that it continued down his body, but it could not be certain.
Lucan turned to look at Jade, her face reflected in his visor, and smiled broadly. His teeth were revealed to be silver colored and looked like spikes. Even though he seemed menacing, his demeanor was friendly as he leaned forward and spoke softly in English. "Greetings Jade. It has been a long time since beauty like yours has entered my life." If anyone paid close attention to his voice, they would notice that it sounded like there was a water bubble stuck in his throat.
-
Jade turned her attention away when the newcomer walked up to the bar. She kept glancing at him from behind her hair. He removed a mask over his mouth and she felt like he seemed familiar. She looked down at her drink tting to think. It was then he leaned close and spoke to her. She looked up and turned her gaze to him a little shocked and curious. "You know me? Yet you hide your face from me." She had an idea of who this was...but she wanted to be sure.
-
Lucan was not surprised that Jade did not recognize him because after all it had been five years. Lucan looked into Jades eyes and his spots turned a dull pink. He then took a deep breath and continued speaking in his soft tone of voice with the watery sound. "I understand that I have been gone these past five years and I do not look the same as I did then. I do not hide my face from you, Jade, but I never showed it to you completely before either."
Lucan took a deep breath and continued "I am Lucan Bristow of the Warrior Reln and I remember everything that you and I discussed all those years ago. You told me that you were a Domana and I revealed that my species is aquatic as well as land species, Remember?" As Lucan asked his question, he leaned forward and pulled the facemask away from his neck, revealing his gills on the side of his neck.
-
She noticed when his spots turned pink and te conversation he spoke of brought back memories and when he spoke his name and showed the gills she had sp often remembered it all clicked together. He had always interested her. She had an unknown feeling towards him that had started as a fondness. When recognition lit her eyes her mouth parted slightly in a soft gasp.
-
[/color=orange]When Parker said nothing to the effect of a major engagement resulting in victory, Vogefac nodded knowingly.
"We've gone through several transgalactic wars. One of the deadliest was the Kqorri war....a race almost equal to us in technological power, and superior in all biological ways except intelligence. A very old race from the Andromeda Galaxy...the Battle of Aurkawzen was incredibly incapacitating. 10 motherships were taken out, not to mention the 20+ scout shops and fighters. One included the RIMS Kirojenaa, Prime Sovereign Kikulon's ship. The oldest veteran in the Military...died so anticlimactically. All fire was focused on his ship. We tried hard to draw their fire, but like pack quix'torr they picked a target and stuck with it. Kikulon went down quick. In fact he was the second mothership to be destroyed...we lost the Aurkawzen sector that day. In fact, it's the only place where the Kqorri still thrive..."
The Commodore shook his head, "But Kikulon deserved to die in battle. And not to the weakest of foes either. He'd made a celebrated name for himself, and it was a glorious way to go. All those people gave their lives for the survival of the Reptilinod Authority. It's what they wanted."
Vogefac took a bite of his vlethath, and a sip of his Rev'maak ale.
"But, then there was the time we kidnapped the leader of the Alliance right out from under their noses!", he laughed hardily, "Now that is a tale to tell..."
He noticed Parker focusing on Silver, "But uh...perhaps you'd rather hear that another time. You probably want to talk to your...friend, is it? A very close friend. You did "kiss." ", Vogefac looked at Artemis.[/color]
-
Parker had let the tear trail stay as he replied to Vogefac, " Unfortunately we haven't had any major victories. The biggest victory we've had is to slow their invasion. No matter how far we get pushing them back on the ground in battle, they always glass the planet from orbit. I've heard of some of my kin making major progress; but the battles I've been in were not as glorious."
Parker registers the new entry as he sits at the bar and speaks to a woman near their table. He sees his dangerous appearance, and contemplates replacing his helmet upon his head. He sweeps his elongated hair to the back of his head as he speaks to Vogefac, " I don't mean to be rude but I just feel safer with this on my head right now." He nods toward the dark blue being with the visor to illustrate is comment.
With his helmet now fastened to his head, he adjusts his speakers to a comfortable volume before continuing,"Besides, I'm sure it won't be long before some fight breaks out." He looks to Vogefac with the cold hard stare of his helmet's amber-tinted visor. Though his helmet's visage looks harsh, there is no malcontent in his voice.
He glanced at Silver at Vogefac's comment, "She's busy with her family right now. I've waited a year to see her, I can wait a few more minutes."
-
Vogefac nodded. He said nothing about the depth of their relationship when Vogefac suggested it...but Vogefac relents and assumes the obvious fact that the two are lovers.
"I had a J'kiira'duki at one time. That may be described as a fiance...her name was Serelav. I am still uncertain as to what happened, but back when I was still a Lieutenant Colonel, she left me. She did not describe any reasons for her departure, other than she felt our relationship was no longer prudent."
He thought for a moment, then laughed espite himself, "I named my last ship after her. My brother renamed it on an escapade for glory, but I kept the name. Reptilinod are not supposed to keep their minds in the past. It is drag to the lift of my career. So, I named my new ship Zetylon as well."
-
Parker nodded in understanding. The subject of conversation was fairly odd for a warrior. He asked, "Is something weighing on your mind? You seem to be rather centered on relationships for a warrior. You especially seem interested in my relationship with Silver. Is there a question you wanted to ask, that you feel uncomfortable asking?"
-
Salem watched with intense curiosity as Mar drained the energy from the Allstone. It was a substance that would take in all energy, and then slowly re-emit a portion of it over time. Salem didn't know how old that stone was, but it had to be at least a few dozen years. The amount of energy it could take in over that time period... had to be something ridiculous. Mar's 'harvesting' of it seemed to be something special indeed. Even without his newfound sense, he'd be able to see the fog that was, for a few brief moments, forming around the stone as it drew in heat and light energy from the air around it. To his sense, it was now no longer emitting energy, and seemed to be almost viciously drawing the tendrils to it, and almost eating them alive. It would draw in less and less energy as time went on, but for now, with it drained, it seemed to dominate the very aura of the ship. Mar might be able to use it again within a few hours, but the Highest might never get a charge from it quite like he had this first time.
Salem laughed, "Highest, even where I'm from, this kind of thing is... shall we say 'hard to come by.' The few people back home who may have heard of the stuff would probably consider it nothing more than a myth." When Mar mentioned the bar's "mischievous owner," Salem smirked. There might be some being behind the activities of this bar, it was true, but Salem saw no need to acknowledge it unless the being made itself known. Until then, there was work to be done. In spite of the aches all through his body from his 'lesson,' this trade had renewed his confidence. It seemed to have been a lucrative one all around.
"Alright, guys, I apparently have some people to find who wanted my help," Salem said to Al and Mar. "You guys care to accompany me back to the bar?"
He turned and walked down the ship's ramp, oblivious to the flashing red shape on the display he'd pulled up, which had recently approached the vessel, and was flagged as "non-visible."
Al rolled his eyes and followed, "Yeah, somebody'll have to point out the green girl and the quadruped for you. Not sure I trust your observational skills."
-
Lucan saw the recognition in Jades eyes right before she gasped. She remembers me Lucan thought to himself as he turned towards the bartender. "Excuse me kind sir, but do you remember how to make a Relnian Blizzard? If so, could you please make me one?" he asked in a respectful tone of voice. The bartender walked into the freezer and brought out a mug of dark blue glacial ice and set it on the bar. The bartender than added some clear 200 proof alcohol to the ice and a deep sun-red foam formed on top of the ice and the concoction began steaming from intense heat.
The bartender handed the drink to Lucan, who handed the bartender a gold cylinder, 10 silver pyramids and 3 bronze cubes. "Thank you, kind sir." Lucan said as he turned to look back at Jade. "You remember me now do you not?" he asked as he took a drink of the strange concoction. Lucans spots changed colors from dull pink, to blue as the ice, to red as the foam, back to dull pink as he looked at Jade.
-
~Ossanlin~
<Very well Efaen. I hope you realize that this mission is more important than any differences we may experience between each other.> He nods. <Are there any other supplies you would desire before embarking?>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________
~Rathien~
Rathien runs his tongue over his fangs once again as Tobias and his android lackey descend the ramp. The being he referred to as "Highest" was still in the vessel. He grins as he crosses to Salem's left side, snugging his entroper back into its holster. He wasn't sure of the power that the trader's explosive suit would put out, and he still didn't feel that it was time for Tobias's Dream to end, but he might get a little enjoyment if he could at least make Tobias squirm a little again. Maybe the trader's voice would crack like it had earlier.
He falls in step right next to Salem and flicks a knife into his right hand, using his wrist-pad to modify the camo field to allow his voice to pass through. "You really are begging me to do it aren't you?" He sets his right hand on Salem's left shoulder as he speaks, the knife-point nearly touching the side of Salem's neck, and deactivates his camouflage blurring into view, his footsteps becoming audible again.
-
Vogefac is caught somewhat by surprise, "Well...a warrior is allowed a family, is he not? Besides, I was one of the first members of Delta Generation. The first 12, known as the Foretwelve, or Vex'Tite-Te are always implanted with an emergent gene; one that exceeds the rest. I was chosen to receive a sort of visionary gene, which gives me superior drive and ingenuity, as well as some personal effects, like aspirations to achieve such poetic goals as rearing a child, or finding a lover. There are times I feel I would have preferred the aggression gene, or even the diplomatic gene; there are times when I would not trade the visionary gene for anything...when it comes to relationships, I more often feel like I would rather have any of the other gene traits."
"Plus, the genes are implanted to make a better race. Whoever has the biggest family is the most successful gene carrier, and so there are more of his gene. I have not as of yet taken a mate...and I know for a fact that Generation Epsilon is already in planning, and all but two other Foretwelves have very large families; all of them have at least some family though."
Vogefac shook his head, "How different is your culture from average human culture?"
-
Mar's eyes widen in surprise, perplexed that he only noticed the aura of the creature a few seconds before it came into view next to Salem. Mar frowns, eyeing the newcomer carefully. He was...poisonous in some way, much like Mar himself. And quite dangerous. On principle the Highest did not trust people of this ilk: they were not easy to control.
"Do you have some kind of problem with my new...acquaintance?" stated Mar, his voice almost silky smooth. "I am not inclined to allow unknown quantities to waste opportunities like him. Salem has at present done nothing to those here but peddle his wares. What are you?"
-
Efaen shakes her stalks. <No, I believe that this will be sufficient,>> she says, relaxing her posture ever so slightly. <I am eager to be on my way and begin, truthfully.> She longs to take a step back, to pull away from Ossanlin and address him at a more comfortable distance, but she does not move.
<Are there any orders that you have for me in the interim before the rebellion members are able to depart?>
-
Keshin frowns at the man's bizarre, incoherent statement. It was apparently in no language their translator understood, not even a human language. But in curiosity he begins to follow the stranger. It was pretty clear that he at least thought Keshin would know what he was saying. <Kandrona, this is insane. Why are we playing this game?>
<Beats me, idgit. You're the one movin' the limbs here. You that desperate for a break?>
<....apparently. Curiosity murders the Yeerk, mm?>
Keshin then nervously mutters, "Mmm...I do not understand you. Could you please speak in English, Yeerk, or Galard?"
Michael regards the mans question carefully. How can he not understand what I say? Unless the boot...
Michael concentrates carefully on each word. "M1- Mich...ael. My name... is... Michael. 1 am... un...familiar... with Y33rk and... Galard.... as... speech." The sentence comes out much more strained than it should, but should at least be comprehensible in english, hopefully. "1 need... a... dic...tion...ary... please."
I need to know how to talk if I'm going to know who I can trust. I must be reverting to code. It would make sense.
((OOC: Sorry for such the long delay. I completely missed the reply post -_-' *sigh* I'd kept thinking no one had responded :-/ ))
-
Salem jumped when Rathien appeared beside him. Hie spun, his hand going for the weapon in his holster, but even as he did so, he could see that it wouldn't do any good. If Rathien wanted to kill him here, there was nothing he would be able to do about it. This was twice now that the hunter had gotten the drop on him at this bar. By all rights, he should no longer be alive. He'd have to make sure it didn't happen a third time...
Al, in the meantime, stopped and stood, frozen, watching. At this point, he was almost definitely outed as being himself... that little charade had been nerve-wracking at best, so he wasn't exactly disappointed. He wouldn't be able to do much if Rathien made a move, but Rathien didn't need to know that. The Android did his best to look intimidating, changing his stance slightly to look ready for a fight.
Without taking his gaze from Rathien, Salem indirectly answered Mar's question, "Mar, meet Rathien. He's my personal shadow of death these days. Rathien, this is Mar." He kept his hand on his weapon and his eye on Rathien's blade. Chances were he wasn't fast enough to react if the Ildari attacked, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Al's attempt at a fighting stance. Not bad, he thought, smirking internally. But if he wanted me dead, I'd be dead already. He was, however, suddenly extremely grateful for the presence of both Al and Mar.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods again and removes his hand, but doesn't step back. <You cannot morph for at least five standard hours. The chip will not be fully functional for at least ten, but the adaptation and implantation process will be safely finished within five. Stay on the asteroid's surface and abide by the standards of an Andalite Warrior. Keep yourself available but consider yourself otherwise on leave.> He doesn't insult her further by asking if she has enough rations for the trip to the rebels...a Warrior would've requested them if needed.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _____________
~Rathien~
Rathien grins at the one called "Mar" as he speaks, baring his fangs. He feels Salem react in a satisfying manner, the trader's shoulder moving out from under his knife-hand as he twists for his weapon. Rathien flicks the knife back up under his vambrace and glances at Salem before looking back at Mar. "I am Ildari, one known as Mar. I detect that you do not enjoy my presence. If by 'what' you meant 'who', then I am known as Rathien’d’ilarianiil fen’Mirwindrierien’or’Elienal sen’Ildar. Or Rathien if you prefer."
He pauses and glances at Salem again, moving in to put an arm around the trader's shoulder. "Oh I don't suppose Tobias here has been very forthcoming about his past. It might ruin his image, isn't that right Tobias?" He chooses to ignore Al. It had been the well-dressed man after all. The creature is unnatural...wrong.. .just as bad as those disgusting Chee, not to mention the thing had almost ended Rathien's Dream once.
-
Silver fiddled with her food more than she ate it. She more had a lot on her mind and was all ready sitting there zoned out when the edges of her vision blackened slightly. She swayed a little but didnt notice it.
___________________ ____
Jade offered a soft smile. "Of course. No one has ever interested me as you have. I often wondered if I would see you again." She watched as his spots changed colors and remembered as if it was yesterday how they had changed before.
-
Parker says, "You're avoiding my question. Is there a question you would like to ask me, that you feel uncomfortable asking?
Parker notices Silver swaying slightly, he reaches over to hold her shoulder and asks, "Silver, are you okay?"
-
Corliss' grin broadens in spite of himself. "Yeah, well, don't take what me brother says too seriously," he replies, stepping up next to Illim and Derrel and tapping at the greeting holoscreen to check the ship's power reserves. He pauses and withdraws his hand from the screen, looking thoughtful. "No, on second thought, take what she says very seriously, but keep in mind she's not nearly as much of a hard-arse as she likes to think. Anyway, I'm sure things will work out if you come aboard. Just don't, you know, blow anything up or whatever."
-
"I'll do my best," Illim laughs, leaning back in his seat, glancing at the console for a place to put up his feet but decides that may not be the best idea. "So... how much longer are we here for? And how long will this quarantine period last?" he asks, putting his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers.
<<Aw, you're just saying that because of his accent,>> he teases Derrel.
-
"Dunno how much longer we'll be," he sighs. "It's all going to depend on whenever Ossanlin can perform his voodoo magic on Terenia and pull her bloody DNA from the ether." He shakes his head, looking down at the console. "I swear, sometimes our life really is like science fiction, or worse, especially in this place."
He peers over at Illim. "As for quarantine, well, that all depends on you, really. Don't reckon there's a specific time period. Just rest assured that we'll be watching both of you nice and carefully so as to make sure you won't destroy us from the inside and all that." Corliss gives Derrel's shoulder an encouraging pat. "If you've got me on your side, that's one thing, but if Myitt doesn't trust you I reckon you'll have a hell of a time." He looks back at the screens. "Just my opinion, of course."
-
Vogefac sighed, but then Parker's attention was diverted to Silver.
"Artemis, did not your friends tell you to eat the food? You're going to loose consciousness. Bartender! Frey'joS tea, spicy!"
Vogefac turned back to Artemis while he waited, "This tea is full of nutrients you require and is very potent. It should help you wake up."
Vogefac could feel the weight on her mind. That would be effecting her as well.
"And if you can, try to forget about your troubles for now. I was not paying attention to your conversation, but if you can foget whatever you heard, it will help you to be not so exhausted."
-
Silver looked up at Parker and nodded slowly. "I'm fine...." Then she turned to Vogefac who called to the bartender and explained what it was. She looked down as he tried to help by trying her to forget her problems. "How.....how do you forget that youre past may be nothing but lies? That first you learn more about the missing pieces of youre past just to turn around and find out its possibly lies....all of it lies...." She asked softly.
-
Catie sat in her chair patiently waiting for Ewa to return...
So much for adventure, she thought, All I get to do is wait at a table in a run-down old shack and wait for some associate of my captain's to finish talking to someone else...
She cuts a piece of her Yaat Steak and chews it...
Vogefac ****s his head, "Lies? What do you mean?"
The waiter came with the Frey'joS tea, and Vogefac said, "Nevermind. You are tired. You probably do not want to brief me on the subject which brings you pain. Here...," he maneuvers his claws into the handle of the cup so that his fingers can grab hold of it, and hands it to her, "Drink this. I must warn you however, 89.43 percent of the human population disdains this drink. But it's potency should help you to wake up."
-
"Hard to tell," Illim confesses. "She's tough to read." His brow furrows pensively, and he folds his arms.
"I mean, on the surface," he continues, "she wasn't impressed with me. But she was a bit too... honest to assume I'm some sneaky Imperial. Then again, who knows; maybe I've got her figured all wrong."
Abruptly, the rebel-want-to-be grins at Corliss. "Whichever the case, she's cute as hell."
-
Jade offered a soft smile. "Of course. No one has ever interested me as you have. I often wondered if I would see you again." She watched as his spots changed colors and remembered as if it was yesterday how they had changed before.
When Jade smiled at him, Lucan felt compelled to return her smile with his own. He purposely moved to a stool closer to Jade and was with in three feet of her. "Well the past five years have certainly taken a toll on me. I often wondered if I would ever lay eyes upon you again." Lucan reached into an inner pocket of his coat and brought out a flower. It had five petals that were as red as Jades lips and pointed like daggers while the center of the flower was a gold in color and gave off the scent of a rose. Lucan handed the flower to Jade and said "This is a Nuca flower from my planet Jade. It reminded me of you and is what drove me to return to you. It has significance in Relnian society, but since you are not Relnian the customs do not apply here."
-
<<I'll admit Myitt's host is cute. Not that she'd pay me any attention. This might come as a shock, but I don't exactly have a little black book of a bunch of female numbers.>> Derrel said.
-
Corliss raises his eyebrows and laughs. "You'd best not tell her that, mate, she's liable to eviscerate you," he says with a grin.
He looks back at the screens. "Well. If Terenia's stuck here waiting for the War-Prince, we'd best dig in for at least another day. Count that as at least one more day you can hang on to your guts."
-
Efaen nods, the thought of rations completely slipping her mind in light of all the other activity.
<If we are finished, then, may I request permission to disembark and return to the bar until you have further need of me?>
Terenia half listens to Corliss and Illim's conversation as it is transmitted over the pool's communication system. She does not offer any of her own commentary, still feeling somewhat slighted by Corliss' previous lack of response. Instead, she pushes her way in lazy circles around the pool and dwells nverously on Ossanlin's promise to restore her humanity.
Zorish finishes his drink and casts an apologetic smile at Eshen. He had been interested in speaking more thoroughly with the human-Controller, but there are more pressing matters. Something has been nagging at him ever since he spoke with Myitt.
Leaving his empty tumbler on the table, Zorish pushes away from the table and glances around. He is pleased to note that while he was caught up in conversation Ossanlin seems to have disappeared. Surreptitiously he removes his Dracon from its holster and replaces the power cells. When he is finished, he shoves the weapon back into his holsterand makes his way towards the front door, weaving around people and tables.
<<What are you doing?>> Tamora demands, anxious as always.
<<I need to check on something back on the ship,>> Zorish responds distractedly as he pushes the door open.
-
"Alright," Illim laughs with a nod, molding Derrel's expression into a good-natured grin. "I ought to warn you that I've been told I'm a persistent optimist. Probably one more reason Myitt'll hate me."
He stands up, shutting off his computer game and stretching. "Well, my host wanted some time in control, and I think he's ready for the bar again, so I'll head that way. You'll call me when you're ready to go?" he asks, pointing to the small comm link on his belt. "I'll follow you in my ship when it's time."
-
In the center of the bar, sparkling lights begin to burst to life out of thin air. The air seems to get heavier for a few moments for those within the bar. The lights form into a 4'10" outline of what appears to be human. The lights brighten and become a being of light, then start to fade to reveal a girl with fair, almost white, skin and silver white wavy hair that extends down to her belly button as it flows in the wind of the power. At first glance, her upper arms appear to have sleeves made of pure white feathers on her upper arms, but it quickly becomes apparent that they are attached to her skin. She is wearing a top that only covers her breasts hanging loose in the front making her breasts appear larger than B cup. They clip at the top of the shoulders with one oval golden clip per shoulder. The back of the shirt has a hood attached to it covering her head and only the back of the shirt extends down past her butt but no further. Her upper body appears to be human but it ends at her waist. Her midriff is exposed leading down to just below her hips where pearl white feathers begin down to her knees. Below her backward bent knees are bird legs with taloned claws for feet. She is of a slender build looking delicate and inexperienced in life.
The young girl stands there with her eyes closed mumbling in latin with her hands clasped over a blue saphirre around her neck.
"Accipe me ab illis immineret castitate mea. Accipe me alicubi tutus virginitatem meam." She opens her eyes slowly revealing ice blue eyes with a large iris consuming most of her eyes. She looks about and her jaw begins to slowly drop. Her heart begins to race as she turns more frantic peering about at all the people, strange structures, unknown materials, and bright lights created without fire. As the warmth of the gem begins to fade between her finger tips, she grows more desperate clinging to it. She repeats herself shutting her eyes tight her tone frantic though the gem remains cold in her hands. She opens her eyes again screaming fear off of her body. She steps back and runs into the bar. She jumps with a small squeal and turns toward it. Seems such an structure she had never seen before. It was too overwhelming for her to bear. Candice screamed at the top of her lungs raising the hair on the back of everyone's neck. It sounded higher pitch than any human lungs could reach.
-
Zorish glances back as a bright light begins emanating from the bar.
<<This place gets stranger and stranger,>> he mutters. Curiosity keeps him rooted to the spot for a moment, Tamora's eyebrows shooting up when some sort of half-bird, half-human appears.
"Now that is a strange species," he mutters under his breath. "There is no way a creature such as that would be capable of flight." He considers going to talk to the girl, but hesitates when she begins panicking. As soon as she opens her mouth and begins screaming he changes course, pushing himself out of the bar and making haste towards his ship.
<<It's like a freaking circus in here. I don't have time for this,>> he grumbles, making his way quickly across the scrubby grass and towards the ship yard where his cloaked Bug Fighter is waiting.
-
Corliss grins at Illim. "All right. Have fun in there, don't get yourself shot," he replies, turning back to the glowing holoscreens once more.
He accesses the shipboard communications and makes sure Terenia can still hear him.
"Terenia?" he ventures. "It's, um. Yeah. It's me. Are you doing okay in there?" He winces, silently berating himself for how foolish he sounds.
-
<Yes,> Terenia responds in thought-speak laced with sarcasm. <I'm just enjoying the scenery. I just love the smell of a Yeerk Pool in the morning.>
-
Corliss rolls his eyes. "Come off it, Terenia, you know I'm only trying to help," he grates. He shifts his weight with a huff. "D'you want me to come in there and keep you company?"
-
<Do you want to come keep me company?> Terenia counters. <Or, you know, bother thanking me for dealing with the stupid microbes on your stupid ship and your stupid brother?> She is clearly still angry with him, and her nerves are still frayed from the encounter with Zorish. She has no trouble letting her bitterness seep into the thought-speak she directs towards him.
-
Claxter was startled out of his quiet enjoyment by some sort of feathered Humanoid screaming about something. <Will you please calm down over there!? Some of us are trying to enjoy ourselves. No one is after you.>
Derrel was more than happy to leave these people be, and try to find something else to do. He was happy at Illim's suggestion of following them in his ship. Let Corliss, Terenia, Mike, and Efaen be on a separate ship, and at the very least he would be happier.
-
<<Alright captain,>> Illim says, giving Derrel's arms one last stretch before relinquishing control of his host's body. <<Up to you now.>>
He shifts his Yeerkish body more comfortably around Derrel's brain, only half paying attention to what Corliss is saying to Terenia. The two of them, it is clear, have an interesting relationship.
Serid walks back towards the Bar, his dark eyebrows drawn low in consternation. Finding Ossanlin has proven difficult, among the many ships nearby. He glances towards Illim's empty ship as he passes, wishing he could just curl up inside to rest.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods. <Yes, as mentioned, you are on leave. If you decide that you should require other supplies, or if you have any other reason to speak with me, you may contact me.> Ossanlin moves past Efaen and descends the ramp, standing out behind the ship waiting for Efaen to descend so he can lock up. <Remember, no morphing for at least five standard hours or there could be some...messy...effe cts.>
-
Candice silences herself at the word of a strange man. She always listened to men, they were the law in her life and to disobey was to be punished. It just came out of habit to her now. Her eyes constantly wandered and fell up two creatures who appeared to be centaurs, but different somehow. Her ice blue eyes widened impossibly so when they fell upon a being made of armor, though she just thought it was a moving statue for she had never seen a suit of armor or anything quite like it before.
She collapsed to her knees and bent over curling in a ball. As she did this, it revealed her large white wings upon her back, that seemed up big enough to carry her but no more. Candice began praying to the goddess asking forgiveness for whatever she may have done as she shook her head and began to cry silently.
-
Silver looked into the cup after taking it with a slight nod of thanks. "I dont know what memories of my past are true anymore.....and it's that damned CG to blame...." She said, her sad look turning slightly angry before she nearly swayed from her chair almost dropping the cup.
Jade took the flower and sniffed it gently. "It's beautiful.....what. ...what are the customs of this flower? If you don't mind my asking...." She asked as she looked at him over the flower. She stroked the petals with the pad of her middle finger. A kind of elfin caress to the natural and yet beautifully odd and unique plant.
-
Lucan's spots flashed a bright pink and he cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "Well it is rather embarrassing Jade, but the custom of the Nuca is, uh marriage proposal." Lucan gives Jade a small smile before continuing in an embarrassed tone of voice. "Of course I am not proposing marriage I am just showing my fondness for you. Unless of course you are satisfied with a marriage proposal, but we don't have to."
Lucan bowed to Jade and said "Forgive me, Jade. I meant no disrespect." in a shameful tone of voice.
-
<Yes, my Prince,> Efaen says, following him out of The Mirage. Her stalks linger on the ship for a moment; she cannot deny the beauty of The Mirage. Regardless of her opinion of Ossanlin, he certainly has impressive taste.
<Thank you again, sir,> she says as her hooves reach solid ground. <I think I will go feed properly before returning to the bar.>
She gives Ossanlin a stiff Andalite smile and a respectful tail dip before turning and heading off at a right angle from the ship, making her way towards the lake and the less trampled grass that surrounds it.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods to Efaen and returns the proper respect for a Prince to one of his commands. <Most-likely a wise decision.> He glances toward the bar and notices Serid. He makes his way toward the Bar entrance, meaning to update the nothlit upon the timeframe for Terenia's procedure, but hesitates. Perhaps Efaen was merely attempting to maintain proper decorum...but perhaps something more could be accomplished.
Ossanlin turns from his course toward the bar and changes to trot after Efaen. <Would you mind if I joined you for a short while Warrior? It has been some time since I have fed.>
-
Derrel left the ship without a word, and started making his way to the bar. He wondered if, eventually, he'd take up some kind of career aside from just being Illim's host. Maybe they'd send him to different planets, so being a pilot would be useful. if nothing else, he'd try to absorb enough knowledge as possible.
Claxter walked over to the feathered woman. <Hey now, don't cry. You're alright. My name is claxter. What is yours?> He lowered his tail so it wouldn't be looming overhead, and he should seem less threatening.
-
Efaen slows her gait slightly to allow Ossanlin to catch up, trying not to let her surprise show on her face. She had been under the impression that Ossanlin was as fond of her as she him; she certainly did not expect him to want to spend time in her presence more than necessary.
<Of course, my Prince,> she says, carefully polite. <You are more than welcome to join.>
-
Still wrapped up in a ball over her backward bent knees, Candice tried to get her breathing under control before she talked to the man. She slowly lifted her upper body, though, kept her head down to show she was not high enough to be treated as equal and knew her place. The little that was seen of her soft featured face was shinning with tears and her lips trembled as she tried to speak one solid sentence.
"M-my name is Candice." Her voice was soft and sweet to the ear to all men that would hear, though it is unknown why to them yet why her voice would be so alluring. She stared at his hooves and nothing more. Answering only when asked a question, speaking no more. Being that she was not looking up to see his face, she had not realized that his voice was in her head and not on the air.
-
<It is nice to meet you, Candice. As I said, no one is after you here. You can order food and drink from the bartender, and find a seat to be more comfortable.> He noticed she was just staring at his hooves instead of his face. Maybe she wasn't used to the way he looked, and found his hooves interesting. <You seem rather surprised by the surroundings, so I take it you got here by accident? I first came here by accident too, having landed when my ship was low on fuel.>
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin catches up with Efaen and matches her gait about five feet away from her side, giving her her personal space. <I appreciate the company.> He had been afraid she would ask for her privacy, respectfully of course, but if she had, Ossanlin would've known that building a rapport would be almost impossible. The fact that she did not express any misgivings about Ossanlin himself joining her for a run meant that she might be at least amenable to a more agreeable relationship.
As they trot side by side, Ossanlin glances at Efaen with his main eyes before speaking again. <I am curious, Efaen...if I may ask, what inspired you to join the military? Most of our race is anything but progressive, there must've been a strong drive behind your actions...>
-
Keshin frowns as the man speaks out of nowhere, bringing his own thoughts back into focus. The man's speech was skipping unusually, but Keshin could now make out that the guy's real name was Michael. <Bizarre. Something's gone way wrong with this guy, Joanne. He's either a broken robot, or...>
<Let's help 'im to a table and then be done with the bloke. The chick's request looks more promising. Associatin' with every weirdo who hits this place is gonna get us killed.>
<Okay, okay. Fine. He doesn't look like he can get us a job in his condition, either.>
Keshin nods at Ewa and states with a smile, "Sorry, sorry. My name is Keshin. We'd be willing to come as soon as we can get this man what he wants. Or at the very least get him a chair."
Keshin then glances at Michael and points down the Bar. The guy's oddities put him off, but that was really not a problem. No one in the Bar was normal. "You should probably sit down. The person most likely to have an extra translator is the Andalite Prince that frequents this place. He should be coming around any minute."
****************************************************************************************
Mar's hand twitches, some sort of odd substance swirling in it before disappearing again. Mar raises his hand and glances at it in surprise. That tiny stone may have given him more of a gift than he realized. The trouble was that he had no idea how long the gift would last, and if it would help him figure out what the situation was with the trader. Whose real name was apparently "Tobias." Intriguing. Why would Salem hide his birth name from people who had not a thing to do with him?
"Mmmph. Rathien, is it?" muttered Mar, keeping his cool. "What exactly is your dimensional range, and why do you want to kill him? Are you a hunter or are you holding a grudge? Your answers to both questions will determine what action I take toward you. I have no great attachment to Salem, and our agreement is finished. But I dislike loose ends in this Bar. You are clearly a loose end."
-
Ewa glanced over when the man in the cloak bestirred himself to speak. As she listened, her eyebrows drew together, perplexed. He's inserting numbers instead of letters, she realized after a moment. Maybe he's supposed to be some sort of primitive AI or implant test subject? Very odd speech impediment.
"I'm sorry, it never occurred to me that a dictionary might be a useful thing to carry around here." Her smile was rueful but also gentle. The being really did appear to be struggling. "Are you sure it would really help you? I mean, it seems like you know the language, it's just taking you some effort to--"
Ewa broke off as a haze of sparkling lights in the middle of the bar caught her attention. A few moments later some sort of strange, white, feathered female appeared, apparently lost in prayer. Ewa was about to turn back to her companions when the girl began keening and panicking at the sight of the bar. That's either a prepared character and her actress thinks she knows where she is, or a returned escapee. Ewa compressed her lips slightly and continued to watch from a distance. If the actress had been caught trying to escape, it would not do to approach her so openly. An Andalite did not share her misgivings, and his approach seemed to calm the girl, though she remained rather crouched and abject looking.
Ewa was recalled from her distraction by Keshin's introduction, and she turned back with a smile. "Nice to meet you," she nods. We? I only see her, unless... "....both? Is Keshin a Yeerk name?"
Her eyes follow Keshin's back to Michael. "Sitting down is probably a good idea," she agreed. "Did you need help?" she asked Michael.
-
Jade blushed through her cheeks but smiled. "You have shown me no disrespect, dear Lucan. Its lovely. Much more....sentimental than an Elvin customs. We don't have celebrations anymore. Its more of a partnership...." She said.
-
Lucan smiled in relief and then moved one more stool closer so he was sitting right beside Jade. "So if you do not have ceremonies how do you determine these partnerships?" Lucan took a sip of his drink and his spots changed to the colors of the drink before returning to the dull pink.
Lucan looked at Jade and felt that she should know his true feelings about her, but wanted to know her true feelings as well. "Jade how do you truly feel about me? I know I have been gone for five years, but did you miss me at all during that time?" Lucan asked in a low voice that only the two of them could hear.
-
Jade looked to him. "The way its done is the male gives a gift, like a peace offering. If you accept then a spell may be spoken if you are lower caste betrothed to a Domana. Its more done out of politics and forming allies between families or clans." She sipped her drink as he moved closer. But when he asked her how she felt she blushed and looked into get cup. "Of course I missef you.... I dont have a name for how I feel for you as I have never felt this way before. At first it was what my people call-" she said something in her language that brought that silvery melodic tone to her voice then in English "or as humans call fondness. As you were gone I found myself thinking of you often....." She blushed again. The whole time using the same soft tone as he had.
-
Lucan listened to how the partnerships were formed and was surprised. "On my planet there is no such thing as politics. I have heard of them in my travels and they sound so confusing. In Relnian society, Nuca flowers are given to one who you wish to spend your life with. Both males and females are allowed to present them to their chosen mates." Lucan said in his soft tone of voice.
As Jade spoke her language Lucan was mesmerised by the beauty of it. When she spoke of her fondness for him his spots seemed to get brighter, but stayed the dull pink in color. "Jade if you thought of me often perhaps you felt more than just fondness for me. May I ask, how did you feel when I told you the custom of the Nuca flower? Did you consider, even for a moment, of accepting?" Lucan asked in the soft tone of voice.
Lucan gave a small bow. "If you feel I am being too forward please tell me and I will desist." Lucan said.
-
"In all honesty....my heart fluttered and......I felt....warm....hap py.....and....yes.. .I did think about accepting. No one had shown me such sweetness as you have." Jade said looking down and blushing, her hair cascading over her shoulder.
-
Lucan smiled when Jade said she thought about accepting. Lucan gently placed his hand beneath her chin and raised it so he could look in her eyes. "Jade there is no need to be embarrassed about how you feel. In fact my species are very open about their emotions and can not hide them from each other." Lucan indicated his color changing spots which were still a dull pink, but flashed gold for a few seconds.
"You have never asked about my spots, but I am going to tell you about them. You see they are how we Relnians express our feelings to each other. The different colors represent different feelings and Relnians can interpret the colors to know what each other is feeling." Lucan explained in his soft tone of voice. "They are called Asudeuhc and the feeling that is represented by the dull pink is adoration. I adore you more than any other person I have met Jade." Lucan continued to explain in his soft voice.
Lucan reached up and removed his visor to reveal the rest of his face. Although his face looked humanoid, his eyes were completely alien. They were the same size as a humans eye, but they were perfectly circular. There was a small gold dot in the center that represented his pupil, but the rest was a bright green in color. "Jade, you are the only being outside my race to see my face. That is how deep my adoration of you is." Lucan said in his soft tone.
-
<It is nice to meet you, Candice. As I said, no one is after you here. You can order food and drink from the bartender, and find a seat to be more comfortable.> He noticed she was just staring at his hooves instead of his face. Maybe she wasn't used to the way he looked, and found his hooves interesting. <You seem rather surprised by the surroundings, so I take it you got here by accident? I first came here by accident too, having landed when my ship was low on fuel.>
She scrunched up her face in confusion as he spoke of things and people she had never heard of. Candice dropped her gaze lower to the floor right before her. She bent back over and abased herself before him and spoke into the floor but loud enough for him to hear her.
"Forgive me, but I do not understand wh-what this 'bartender' being is you speak of is and what is a 'ship,' if it won't dishonor me to ask?" She questions cautiously as her voice slowly strengthens, hoping she would not be punished for questioning him. She'd been whipped too many times by too many different people in her life to ask questions without caution. She still had a scar from her last master when he took it too far and almost permanently damaged her to the point that no one would want to marry her. Candice would have secretly been OK with being damaged as long as she didn't have to be another's mate and wed them. That was, after all, why she had fled her home.
-
Claxter was surprised she didn't know what a bartender was. Surely even primitive species had bars, right? He could understand if she confused his ship for a type of boat, but she didn't have an idea of what a ship was? he also noticed that she wasn't just curious about his hooves. She was actually being submissive. He got down into a position where his lower half was laying down.
<You know, you can look at people's faces while talking to them if you want. I don't know what the customs are where you come from, but the people here won't hurt you for looking at them. Now, a bartender is someone who works at a bar and serves food and drink. If you look up, you can see a man behind the counter, who will get you what you need if you have money to pay. I could loan you the money if you don't have any. As for a ship, it's a vessel we use to fly through space. The more technologically advances species of the galaxy can go from planet to planet in these ships.>
<You know, you have a pretty voice. I'm sure people like having conversations with you.>
-
~Rathien~
Rathien chuckles a bit, his arm still around Salem's shoulder. He glances back at Mar again, fangs still visible through his mirth. "You are interesting, one known as Mar. 'Dimensional range' isn't exactly one of the questions I would think of for a first date, but I suppose I'm bound by the Fourth just like everyone else."
"As for my reasons in seeking to end his Dream...well...they're complicated." He arches an eyebrow in thought. "I suppose I might hold at least a little animosity, after all that thing following us almost ended my Dream once. But mainly it is because Tobias is exciting prey. He's intelligent, innovative...diffic ult to catch. Well...usually he is. Maybe he's going senile in his old age." Rathien chuckles again before continuing. "There happens to be a rather large price on his head, though the money is only a bonus as far as I'm concerned. The Hunt is reward enough."
"You see, I am an arbiter of Fate, one known as Mar. She tells me when to kill and when to stay my hand. She speaks to me, and when I listen, things end up going my way. She's the only reason I haven't ended poor Tobias's Dream, Erda knows he's given me a number of egregious opportunities today. See the thing is...when I ignore Her, I usually end up nearly or mostly dead. I've learned to listen." He winks at Mar, fangs still bared in a grin.
-
When Claxter lowered himself to her lever, Candice's eyes widened in shock, though, he probably barely saw the expression being how low to the ground she was with her silver white hair pooling around her. When he gave her permission to look him in the eye, she slowly, nervously, lifted her upper body from the ground, but stopped mid way thinking it was too easy. Men of her time were cruel. They would tell you you were equal and when you finally stood your ground the way they wished you to, they would knock you down again. Sometimes in the most cruel of ways. The people at the temple told her she is lucky, for she has only experienced a small amount of torture and misfortune, she has only heard stories of the worst of it.
Candice sat up just enough for him to be able to see her face, but she stared firmly at his chest and now higher. She finally realized that he was another centaur-like creature, except blue. Is he holding his breath? She thought for she could not figure out why he would be so blue, but even then he wouldn't be this shade of blue. When he spoke of the man who served food and drink she spared a rapid glance to the man behind the bar then back on his chest. At the thought of food she realized she hadn't eatten all day, but she wouldn't complain over it. She'd gone much longer without food before. The moment he spoke of outer space her jaw gaped and she spoke without thinking, something she wish she had grown out of by now.
"Are you gods? To fly beyond the stars, you must be." Her voice was like whispering bells on the air as it grew fuller and less fearful. She abased herself again feeling even lower than before. Then ended up blushing a deep red when he complemented her voice. It was something she really couldn't control, just came with being part siren.
-
<We are not gods, as we aren't perfect. Your people may achieve space flight in time, and join us. Though I am not allowed to pass our secrets to your people. That's a big law we have. So, tell me about yourself. What is your people's current technological level?>
Derrel made it to the bar, an noticed the new people. A robot, or man in a suit, as well as half animal hybrids caught his attention. He was a little surprised, but didn't make a scene. He ordered a drink, found a table, and relaxed in a chair while watching everyone.
-
Candice calmed slowly and raised her upper body once more, but this time did not raise her head. She remained staring at the floor.
"Tech...technologica l...level?" She pondering what he had said for a few moments and chose how to answer not truly knowing what he was asking of her. "We live in houses of stone and clay. Our warriors adorn themselves with our finest metals. We make our own clothes and we go to the temples for healing." Her words begin to jumble together as she thinks too fast for her mouth to catch up. Flustered, Candice lifts her ice blue eyes to peer at the creatures face. It caught her by surprise for he seemed to have no mouth and four eyes. She had seen many creatures in her day, so she did not scream but subconsciously reached a delicate hand up to to touch the stalks that held up two of his eyes. When she realized what she was doing, Candice rapidly retracted her hand and held it against her chest. She cringed pulling into herself and spoke too quick.
"Forgive me. I did not mean to do that. It is not my place to touch one such as yourself." Her body tensed ready for impact of a strike that always came when she moved without thought.
-
Michael becomes acutely aware that there is a lot more going on inside the building then he had first realised. He notices bluish centaurs as well as the minotaur, reptilian creatures and some form of feathered woman with wings. My visual recognition centres seem to be intensely delayed. I may be at a disadvantage if hostilities arise.
Michael turns his attention to the woman who has joined them and addresses both Keshin and the woman. "A plac3... to sit... would... be nice." His speech picking up, taking less breaks between words. "1 am sorry, but the words... "Andalite",... "Yeerk",... and ... "Galard" hold no meaning for me. I also do not see how... royalty would be helpful.."
I have to approach this situation carefully. I need to ascertain whether anyone here would posses the tools to remove a Mjolnir-grade remote detonation fail-safe.
"I have to approach this situation carefully. I need to ascertain whether anyone here would posses the tools to remove a Mjolnir-grade remote detonation fail-safe."
It soon becomes apparent that his improved speech has come at the cost of his inner thoughts becoming vocalized.
"1 may need some assistance. I may not have the correct currency for this place, but 1 can compensate your for your help."
Michael awaits their direction.
-
Efaen's expression betrays her surprise at the question. She is not familiar with Princes - certainly not Captains - spending time learning about the motivations of their charges. She hesitates before responding, wondering if he has dual intentions.
<My father was a War-Prince,> Efaen says at last, her tone reserved. <He was discharged from the military when I was a child.> She pauses again, glancing at him with a stalk eye as she trots along. <He was injured in battle,> she says flatly. <He refused to use the morphing ability to revert to his uninjured state. It would be, he said, an act of dishonor. Since then he has lived as a vecol and I have seen little of him.> She shrugs her narrow shoulders, picking up speed slightly. <I joined the military in honor of the memory of who he once was and to destroy the filth that forced him into exile.>
-
<It's alright. I'm not wild about people touching my stalks because they are two of the more vulnerable body parts, but in general I don't mind occasional physical contact. It's good that your people have at least reached the point you're at.>
-
Candice opened one eye and looked him over cautiously. Then she opened the other looking absolutely perplexed. She relaxed a little having him not hit her as she had grown to expect. She looked up at him obviously befuddled.
"Why are you not punishing me? I did something unforgivable, I almost touched you without permission, let alone even knowing you." Her voice pulled at the heart like a wounded bird singing its last song; beautiful to hear, but makes one want to cry. She was extremely confused by the generosity of this man. She had never met a man who wouldn't take advantage of any situation, let alone let misbehavior slip by them unpunished.
-
<It is not my place to harm you.> Claxter said. he was feeling a bit emotional, though he didn't know why. <You didn't do anything wrong. You have no need to be afraid of me. I promise I won't hurt you. Have you been mistreated in the past? You seem so pleasant, so I don't know why you would be.>
-
Candice smiled faintly, giving her age that her eyes have not, proving that all 18 years of her life were hard earned. She looked up at him with that smile and spoke from the aching pit within that held all of the pain that people have caused her over the years.
"Where I am from, it is a man's right to do to a woman as he pleases. Since I am owned by no one, I am everyone's to punish with no punishment in return." Her voice was more empty now, though still held the edge of bells faintly. She dropped her gaze from him and began to play with her hair, twirling it around her fingers and she spoke quietly, but no longer frantic.
"Where I am from, many people think I am rude and don't know my place. I am of mixed blood, so my family disowned me when I was not the obedient little child they had hoped for. Since then, those who want me, only want me for the rarity of what I am. They are vile men who have more mistresses than they know what to do with." The rage in her voice made the pull stronger, making her seem more vibrant than before yet her voice was still that of a melody.
-
<Our people look down on females somewhat too, though they are not harmed without also being punished. Any Andalite male who attacked a female without good cause would be brought to justice. Slavery is certainly illegal. It seems that the more cultured a society becomes, the more equality both genders have, depending on which begins as the strongest. If you still feel awkward being around men, there are women who you can talk to. I know a woman named Silver who could be friends with you.>
-
She looked up at him curiously and spoke lightly letting her voice play on the wind delicately.
"Is that what you are called, an Andalite? I have never heard of a creature like you before." She meant it to be taken as rude, but she was tentatively trying to feel him out and find out what he would react to. Her expression changed to anger once more as he brought up the subject of women.
"It is not just men that I am 'awkward' around. Women can be cruel and vindictive too, just they have to hide it from the world, where as men do not." Her tone was sharp as she spoke of women and was painful to listen to. Candice almost pulled her hair out as she played with it, the anger had grown so sharp.
-
<There's a first time for everything. I've never seen someone like you either. My friend silver has also been mistreated by her people, so I'm sure you'd both have quite a bit to talk about. She is very kind, like me, so you won't have to be afraid of her either.> He noticed she was practically pulling her hair out, and he reached out to take her hand. <Try not to harm yourself. Not that your emotions aren't justified, bt stewing in them usually does more harm than good.>
-
The second his skin touched her's, she turned a ruby red almost instantly. Her eyes widened impossibly so making them seem even larger as she looked up at him appearing more innocent than before by having someone just touch her make her blush. Candice let him hold her hand as long as he like being that he wasn't harming her and didn't seem to want to unlike so many others. She looked at their hands more in awe then anything.
"N-no one has ever lay a kind hand on me b-before." She looked back up to his eyes before speaking again. "Why are you so different if your people don't like women, except for sex, either?" She was truly in awe by this creature before her.
-
<Women are deserving of a certain amount of respect as well as men where I am from.> He wondered if he really thought much of women aside from the prospect of having a sexual relationship with one. In truth, he typically liked roaming with males more than females, and his main draw toards women was because of a drive to procreate. not that he didn't find them interesting to talk with aside from that. <We are all people, and we should treat each other as such. Males and females have different, but important, roles to play. Not everyone really fits the role that society gives them, and really that should be ok too.>
He was hesitant to take his hand away from hers. somehow he felt an inexplicable connection to her. He wanted to be close to her and protect her, like Efaen. Wait. He wasn't really attracted to Candice like he was to Efaen, was he? That couldn't be. They were totally different species. She was surely just a platonic friend, like Silver. That's it. That's all it could be.
-
She nodded to his statement, wishing it were true in her life, though knowing it was far from it. As Candice admired his form out of pure curiosity, the thought finally occurred to her. He has no mouth..How can I hear him? She pulled her hand away from his and leaned in closer to his face and examined it where his mouth should be absolutely perplexed. It could have seemed intimate with how close she was to him, but her demeanor made it innocent to her, though when she spoke her proximity made the alluring quality of her voice stronger.
"How can I hear you, you have not lips to speak with?" She hadn't yet processed that being within a foot of someone's face was usually intimate, for she had never experienced real intimacy.
-
"Yeah, thanks for that," Corliss replies to the ceiling, sounding miffed. "If I join you in there I reckon you're just going to keep up with the berating, aren't you?"
-
<Maybe,> Terenia says, stubbornly angry. <It hasn't exactly been the best day of my life, you know. You did sort of abandon me in this dapsen pool and then come back with my dead sister in tow while ignoring my questions about your insane ideas about...about something as stupid and meaningless as love.>
-
<My people use thought speech to communicate. We also east through our hooves, so we have no need for mouths.> He said as he retracted his hands. He didn't lean away from her as he did say he didn't mind physical contact. Touching an Andalite's face with your hands was usually intimate, but there wasn't much to worry about with her, right? Surely it wasn't like it would mean the same. Touching faces together was unheard of, so he doubted she would rub her face on his.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin listens intently, matching Efaen's pace. <I see...he sounds like a stubborn but honorable person. So if I may ask, which is stronger? Your desire to honor the memory of his service or your desire for revenge?>
-
She couldn't help but giggle at the thought of eating through one's feet. She found it silly to eat with what you walk on all day. Her cooing laugh pulled at desire as it wrapped around its victim. Her eyes seemed to glitter with joy brightening her features. Her wings stretched out a little as she relaxed now obviously visible from the front. Candice sat back and looked at him with that bright smile.
"May I touch it? Where your lips should be I mean. It's so odd, I just want to know what it feels like to touch." She didn't know if it was just solid bone beneath the skin, or it was like her jaw, just without an opening. Not to mention, he was furry, which made it all the more intriguing.
-
Corliss is about to answer with a smart remark when he pauses, lowering a pointing hand.
"What?" he blurts, Mike's body tensing at the idea of discussing their earlier conversation.
-
<I suppose so.> Claxter said. He found himself unable to concentrate on anything but Candice. Even his stalk eyes gravitated towards her instead of scanning around like they usually do. He began to feel like something was...wrong. He just didn't know what.
-
((Sorry if there are typos that I don't notice, my hands are shaking for some reason :S))
Vogefac definitely understood taking or giving memories. But...
"What is this "CG?" I assume it is an Acronym?"
Vogefac felt very badly for Artemis. In his universe it was almost an unwritten law that stealing or adding memories was punishable by extreme measures. In fact, in many universes he'd seen the same thing. Nobody likes either procedure.
"Has this "CG" been brought to justice?"
Catie watched as Ewa spoke to someone. She felt alone again, but...this time she felt something else. Shed just met Ewa, why should she be expecting her to hang out with her? But she seemed to be doing things very robotically. She thought carefully before she said anything to anyone , like she had to access a file directory before she knew what to say. Like those actors that improvise.
She took another sip of Root Beer and walked up to Ewa, "Hey, what's up?"
-
Candice's smiled became near luminescent when Claxter gave her permission to touch him. Without another word, she lay one hand on the ground before her to keep her balance and reached out with the other leaning toward him. She gently lay her soft fingertips upon his face and brushed them over his skin. She pushed only hard enough to feel for the bone structure and then grew gentle again as she just felt the skin. Her expression changed as her fingers felt along his skin to a soft joy and amusement.
"You feel so different than what I'm use to." She whispered barely more than a mouthing of words.
-
<You heard me,> Terenia growls. <I want to know what exactly you think is going to happen here. I certainly have a fairly good idea of what Mike thinks, after spending some time in his head. What do you think this is? You're a Yeerk, Corliss. And I'm...well, I don't really know what I am anymore, but I'm certainly not available. In case you hadn't noticed, there's a freaking war going on. There's no time for...for...that.>
Efaen takes a moment to consider before answering. <My father was a good warrior,> she says at last, stiffly speaking about him in the past tense, as though his vecol status. <He believed in the cause and he believed in honor. My mother and father never had any sons to carry on that belief, so I took it upon myself to do so instead. Nothing more.>
-
~Ossanlin~
<I see.> Ossanlin falls silent for a while. <I hope that you have a stronger desire to honor the memory of his service than to seek revenge. Revenge is like sweet, rotten grass. It tastes good for a while and you want to keep eating it, but eventually it will make you sick, and if you keep it up, it will kill you.>
Ossanlin smiles a bit. <Well, I know a little more about you, perhaps you'd like to know a little more about me. Is there anything you would like to ask me? I will attempt to be as forthcoming as possible.>
-
<Yes, actually,> Efaen finds herself saying. <You claim to be capable of reverting Terenia to her human form, despite her nothlitism. Additionally, since my arrival here, I have seen you perform seemingly improbable tasks. This is clearly not any technology our people are aware of at large.>
A stalk eye watches him with interest. <I would like to know more about these...capabilitie s of yours. I am curious as to how you came to possess them.>
-
Ewa turned to acknowledge Catie's approach. "Just making some new acquaintances," she replied with a brief smile. "This is Keshin," she nodded at the young woman, "and this is Michael. He's having a bit of a number problem at the moment." And he has a lot of catching up to do if he doesn't know what Yeerks and Andalites are. "This is Lieutenant Catie Anderson," she completed the introduction for the other two. "She's currently on leave from her ship and decided this would be a good place to find an adventure." Ewa frowns thoughtfully at Michael. "She's also a medical officer, but I don't know if she'd be able to help you remove something or not. I think we were all about to sit down?" She glanced around to see if there were any objections.
-
~Ossanlin~
<Ah...well that is a very long story, but I can attempt to sum it up. It started here in fact. I was no more than a regular Andalite when I found this place. I was already Captain of the Tyrennian, but as yet unproven. Most of my charges respected me, but all of my Princes and many if not most of my Warriors were older than I. It caused some tension, but that's a different story.>
Ossanlin pauses to taste the grass a moment as trees begin to pass by he and Efaen on either side. <Not on my first visit, but nearly so, I encountered a strange creature. She appeared as an Andalite, only silver in colouration from stalks to tail-blade...even her hooves were silver. She described herself as a Silver Blade Andalite, an Andalite touched by the Ellimist Himself. I was skeptical, but she demonstrated abilities that were beyond imagination. She called herself rather simply...Steph. She said she had once been normal like myself, but she and her mate had nearly died in a crash-landing. The Ellimist saved their lives and gave them these abilities as well as the ability to pass this power on. After speaking for a time, she produced an Escafil-like device and asked me to place my hand on one side to receive the gift. I did.>
Ossanlin closes his eyes, revelling in the feeling of the wind moving across his face. <There was a commotion in the bar during the process and I lost my concentration. The process was aborted midway. I ended up with a partial transformation. Under normal circumstances, I was myself, but under extreme duress, I became a Silver Blade. I could not control when I "ascended" as I call it. I gained many abilities when in that form, you have witnessed some of them.>
<Not so long ago, again in this place...> Ossanlin gestures around the planetoid to indicate the bar. <...The Ellimist Himself revealed an incarnation to me. It was not his whole being certainly as that would've destroyed me with its very presence, but enough so that he could converse with me. You know of the Game with Crayak I'm sure. Well Silver Blades are key agents for the Ellimist. He gave me a greater understanding of the abilities I could use whilst in my ascended state, and with it, the gift of being able to control when I ascend and for how long. Of course this uses a great amount of energy and that certainly has its down-sides.> He pauses for a moment. <That's the short version I suppose.> He smiles again in Efaen's direction, waiting for her to make the next effort at conversation.
-
Corliss swallows, disliking the churning feeling in the pit of Mike's stomach.
<<Go ahead,>> Mike urges. <<Tell her, mate. She already knows how I feel, and a bit of you, through me.>>
"Well," the Yeerk says hastily, "I, erh, of course Mike and I...he doesn't...I don't want to...to force you into anything you don't want. I..." His shoulders slump. "I don't even really know how I feel, either. It's all so bloody confusing. But Mike...I reckon you know how he feels about you, though we haven't known you long and it's so damned complicated with you humans I..."
He shakes his head. "Just forget it, okay? If that makes you happy, I won't pursue this...whatever it is...whatever it was, any longer."
-
Silver shook her head. "It stands for Central Government. And sadly I don't believe they were...." She took a small drink of the drink and coughed a bit.
Jade watched as he removed the visor and looked in awe. Slowly she lifted a hand to his cheek running her thumb along the cheekbone. "Beautiful...."
-
When Jade rubbed her hand along his face a contented smile spread across his face. Lucan raised a hand and caressed her face with his thumb, mirroring her movements. "You are exquisite Jade. In my culture it is unheard of for Warriors to court the Royals, but I hope you will not be insulted by my attempt to court you." Lucan looked around and realized that their conversation might not remain private for very long. "Would you care to continue this intimate conversation in a more private setting?" Lucan asked in a soft voice.
-
Parker kept hold of Silver's shoulder, stopping her from collapsing. He held tightly to keep control, but not enough to hurt her. He looks tentatively into her eyes and asks, "Silver, are you okay? Do you need to lie down?"
He noticed the odd entrance of the new "person", but was more concerned with Silver's well being than to even glance. He spoke to Vogefac without looking towards him, "Excuse me, will you?" He needed to get out of the booth, unfortunately his exit was blocked by the reptilian
-
Silver had to force the rest of the drink down. She looked at Parker and nodded softly which still was a bad idea. It caused a headache slight dizziness. "yeah....that....ugh my head....that may be best..."
Jade felt her heart flip as he traced along her cheek. She blushed when he talked about courting her. With her own look around she nodded. "Of course, little crowded in here...." She said softly.
-
Claxter let Candice rub her hand across his face for a bit, until it started feeling awkward and he pulled back. <I understand that most species do, in fact, have mouths. This makes Andalites kind of a strange species, I suppose. I think our people have always been this way, instead of just evolving from a species that did have a mouth.>
-
Vogefac listened to Silver, "Well, if ever I find someone from this "Central Government," you have my word they will get a message from me. And it will not be verbal."
He nodded and stood to let Parker out of the seat, "What is it you are doing? Is there any way I may be of assistance?"
-
Efaen listens to Ossanlin's story with interest. As they reach the edge of the lake she slows to a walk, eventually stopping near the shore to dip a hoof into the clear, cold water. Her main eyes look out across the surface, deep in thought. She avoids looking towards the disrupted grave where Tamora - the original Tamora - had been buried and then unmercifully dug up as Taxxon food.
<Your explanation sounds much like the stories my mother would tell me as a child,> Efaen says at last. <Ellimist and Crayak and silver Andalites with abilities beyond the norm. If I had not seen it myself I would think you took me for an idiot.>
She withdraws her hoof, her thirst quenched. <I am beginning to realize that this place is quite proficient at making the impossible become quite possible. If I were of a more superstitious people I would begin to suspect that it had supernatural properties.>
<What do you mean 'if that makes me happy'?> Terenia repeats, sounding frustrated. <Who cares what makes me happy? It's not about that, you dapsen idiot. If I did what made me happy of course I'd...I'd...> She cuts off, changing tacts. She doesn't want to dwell on how content he had made her feel during those few intimate moments that they had spent together. <Corliss, you've seen yourself what happens to the people I care about. Do you really want to get tangled up in that? Do you want to be the next Tamora or the next Danny?>
Zorish makes it back to his ship, temporarily uncloaking the slightly larger than average Bug Fighter. He ascends the ramp, sealing the hatch tightly behind him and approaches the primary computer console. He squints at the holographic screen, Tamora's fingers moving deftly as he enters in commands.
-
Parker moved out of the booth and stood by Silver. He waited for her to stand of her own accord. He asked, "Do you just want to lie down outside, or should I help you to your father's ship?"
He answered Vogefac, "I'm going to help her rest where she wishes."
-
Lucan put his visor back on his face covering his eyes from the patrons. He then stood up and offered his arm to Jade and asked "Would you allow me the honor of escorting you outside, Jade?"
-
Candice lets her hand fall away and sits back returning to a safer distance. She nods as he speaks feeling that she made him uncomfortable, so she keeps her hands to herself from then on. She had finally calmed down enough to be able to think and began to let her eyes wander over the crowd. Her gaze was caught on the moving statue that intrigued her as much as Claxter had. Candice pointed discretely toward the tall being in armor who just stood up.
"What is that creature? Is it a moving statue?" Her whisper caressed the ears like a lullaby. Candice had yet to even think about how her voice was effecting Claxter, for everything else seemed so much more pertinent to her. Where she was from, they rarely let her speak for the pull of her voice was hard to ignore in great quantities. Though, since they knew what she could do, it made it easier to resist.
-
Claxter spared a stalk eye to where Candice was pointing. <That's Parker. He's a Human in an advanced suit of armor. Sometimes he'll take his helmet off so you can see his face, but he tends to leave it on so he's not as vulnerable.> There was a small part of him that, since she wasn't touching him anymore, actually wanted them to touch again. She just seemed more pleasant than Efaen, who chose to leave him instead of be with him. He resented her for that.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin mimics Efaen, drinking from the lake. <I know some who believe the bar itself, specifically the Bar Tender, is an immortal on the level with The Ellimist and Crayak...playing its own game. I witnessed that Bar Tender kill with no more than a glance. He has abilities of his own. I was forced to enter the Timestream to recover the life of the person he killed, and that experience nearly killed me.>
Ossanlin drinks quietly for a few moments before speaking up again. <You said that your father and yourself have devoted yourself to "a cause"...but you never truly specified what that cause was...what exactly is the cause that you fight for?>
-
She looked at Claxter with mild shock.
"A human? That large? He is so tall though, I have never seen a human as tall as he." Her eyes drifted back to the man and fell on the woman who looked ill. "Who is the woman near him? She seems to have quite the following around her." Candice wasn't jealous, just wondered how she could be near so many men and be safe. Not to mention, she looked like she wasn't in the best shape so maybe the men hurt her. She had heard of horrible things happening to women when many men were near then.
-
<He has been genetically enhanced, so he's certainly not a normal Human. The woman is Silver. She's been through some recent hardships, but now she's back with friends. Those around her are friends who won't hurt her.> He said. Knowing she didn't trust men, he assured her that she was safe.
-
Parker "overheard" the newcomer's questioning and Claxter's response. He ignored it as patrons often speaks of others, though they're only feet away from their subjects of conversation. He was more concerned with Silver's well being to respond for himself.
-
Candice let the thought of how someone could be enhanced roll around her mind for a few moments thinking up ideas that all seemed to be very painful. She shivered at the thought, her wings fluttering and stretching out then relaxing back to the state they were in previously. When he spoke of Silver, she looked at Claxter again with a confused expression.
"Men who are...friends? They don't all wish to bed her?" She was truly befuddled by the concept of men being trustworthy, because she knew of so few who were. Her life was too filled with vile people for her to see clearly on the subject. She lowered her head and smiled briefly to herself. She spoke low, but loud enough to hear.
"I'm sorry, but I have never met so many kind hearted people in one place before, let alone many throughout my life." She met two of his eyes once more and spoke with her gentle bell voice. "It all seems too good to be true, like I got what I wished for and so much more." Her eyes began to glisten toward the end of her sentence, as real joy began to creep in.
-
Corliss shrugs, although Terenia cannot see the gesture. "See, the thing is, Terenia, Mike and I reckon you aren't bad luck. You've had a few terrible things happen to you, you've done a few terrible things, but I've told you you certainly aren't a terrible person."
He sighs. "Look, we don't want to press the issue any further," he murmurs, resigned. "Clearly your fear is making you disinterested, and we can't fault you for that. It's your decision. In the meantime I'm going to come in there for a feeding and let Mike head off to the bar, maybe press Ossanlin into coming round a bit more quickly. Yeah?"
Without waiting for an answer, Corliss heads across the cabin and into the humid, dim little pool room.
-
<Yeah,> Terenia says, surprised by how nervous the idea of being alone with Corliss makes her. She struggles to keep her tone resigned. <Yeah, sure. Whatever. The sooner we can get this over with the sooner we can leave.>
She scrunch-thrusts her little body through the sludgy pool water, trying to make sense of her conflicted emotions. On the one hand, she is still very much grieving for her dead sister - and still reeling from the discovery that Tamora may not be so dead after all. On the other, she is eager to regain her lost humanity and begin a new life with the rebels. A new life that will involve seeing quite a bit of Corliss and Mike, she reminds herself. Quickly, she pushes the thought away.
Efaen looks surprised that Ossanlin would ask.
<Why, the destruction of the Yeerk Empire and the restoration of the Andalite race, of course,> she says smoothly. She turns her head to watch Ossanlin with her main eyes. <My father was stationed on the Yeerk Homeworld, under Prince Seerow. He saw the parasites rise from their pools and butcher our people as thanks for our kindness. Since then he dedicated his life to eliminating the stain smeared across our People's name. Everything he did - even my own birth and rearing - was a calculated effort to bring the Andalites back to honor.>
-
Serid pulls his eyes away from the Madra at seeing a brief glimpse of blue through a gap in the ships. <<There,>> he thinks with a nod.
He proceeds in its direction until, sure enough, he spots Ossanlin and Efaen at the lakeside. The new Warrior approaches the pair, hands swinging somewhat stiffly at his sides. Once in thought-speak range, he calls out, <Greetings, my Prince. Greetings, Warrior.>
Illim continues his passive inhabitation of Derrel, although he is surprised to find that relinquishing all control--even for a to-be-rebel like him--is more difficult than he had imagined.
-
<Most around here are at least civilized. A few should probably be avoided, though.> Claxter said, thinking of Corliss and Mar. He hadn't seen Mar in a while, so maybe he had left the bar? Who knew? <Just stick with me, and I'll look after you. As far as bedding....well, I'd rather not discuss that topic. It's kind of personal. The one with horns, called Morgan, is her father. He would scare off anyone only interested in her for that. I'm certain Parker is looking for something more meaningful than that. That's all I'd like to say on that.>
-
Silver cringed at the thought of staying in the sick bay again. "Outside....please.. ..one more medical room and I will panic..." She stood slowly still holding onto the table for support, afraid if she let go she would fall.
Jade stood tucking some hair behind her ear. "Of course you may." She said and gently took his arm. She didn't fear him and when they touched her stomach filled with butterflies. She looked up at him as he led her from the bar and she smiled with a slight blush before looking away.
-
Vogefac stood out of respect, but then asked Parker, "Yes, but how may I assist you?"
Vogefac moved closer to Parker and Artemis, preparing to support Artemis if she fell or something of the like occurred.
-
Parker held Silver's back and asked, "Can you walk?" He asked in a way to imply he would be more than willing to carry her, but didn't want to suggest it.
-
Candice's eyes widened when Claxter said one of the men was her father. She truly hadn't expected that. When he said he'd look after her, the thought rolled around in her head for awhile, pondering if it were a good idea to have one man consistently around her. She watched the little group for a moment longer then started looking about again until her stomach rumbled loudly. She clasped her hands over her stomach and blushed a little as she cooed a small laugh.
"I guess that's my que that I should probably get something to eat now." Candice pushed herself off the floor and stood up to the full 4'10" of her form feeling short next to the Andalite. She wiggled her taloned feet to get the blood circulating and then looked toward the bar where the man called a 'bartender' was. Then turned to face Claxter again.
"What food do they serve here?" She asked with her delicate voice.
-
Keshin nods casually at Ewa's assessment of him and gestures toward one of the seats Ewa was sitting near to, attempting to help this...Michael toward the seat. He was spouting a lot of bizarre dialogue, so Keshin wanted this affair done with as fast as possible. There's no way a person like this had the sort of credits he needed, compensation or no.
"Yeah, Keshin's a Yeerk name," Keshin shrugs. "It's kind of uncommon, though. I'm probably one of only a few hundred thousand Keshins in the world. This is both lucky and unlucky for somebody in our profession. It means we seem unique, but it also means my name is sometimes too obvious. Oh, and note that only outlaws are going to use "our." I know that's really all you'd ever get a place like this."
****************************************************************************
Mar's expression turns quizzical and even intrigued at Rathien's bizarre description of life and death. It was an unusual, even aberrant way of speaking about the two concepts for a mortal. This Rathien had evidently killed a great many people, and he had done it without regrets. Mar's lips curved into an eerie smile.
"So...the trader is usually an interesting person for a hunter to chase?" states Mar carefully. "Mmm...know that Hitsuzen bends to no mortal nor any Highest. A dealer of Death is no more his arbiter than a person bringing new life into the world. He will double-cross you in the end, as he always has done. You speak of lives as Dreams, which I suppose is an apt metaphor for transient mortality. But...could you kill a person who isn't Dreaming at all? Perhaps the body, but never the mind."
-
<I think you can ask for just about anything.> Claxter said as he got up. He went to the bar and got some money out of his belt. <Just ask for what you want, and he'll see what he can get.>
Derrel sipped a drink, looking at the crowd. He noticed one girl that seemed a bit sick, or just exhausted, but she seemed taken care of. One of the Andalites was talking to a bird girl, who had a voice that drew his attention, even though he was to far away to hear exactly what she was saying.
-
Silver took a step but still hed the table. "I can walk.....but not on my own..." She said softly giving an apologetic look. She had guilt light her eyes. She was afraid that she was being a burden. Parker should be happy and joyous since he returned safely....instead she had him worried about get health. She now felt even worse than before.
-
With Jade gently holding his arm he led her outside into the afternoon sun. He began to lead her towards the lake shore so they could walk along the beach. He reached up and removed his visor, revealing his strange eyes once again, and placed the visor in an inside pocket of his trenchcoat. His spots were still the dull pink of adoration and he looked at Jade with love in his eyes and saw her still holding the Nuca flower. Acting on impulse Lucan reached over and took it from Jades grasp and tucked it behind Jades ear. He traced the point of her ear for a few seconds before muttering "Beautiful". He kept her arm entwined with his as they reached the lake shore and walked along it.
-
Jade walked with him to the Edge of the lake. She gasped softly when he took the flower and looked at him curiously. He then tucked it behind her ear and she blushed. Her gaze lowered, her lashes brushing her cheeks as he traced her ear.
-
Candice wandered over to a stool at the bar and sat down. She thought hard for a moment at what she wished for. Her eyes brightened at the meal she had thought of.
"I would like grilled cod fish scales removed. Seasoned with greens on the side. With ambrosia for the drink and a baked potatoe." Her words rolled off the tongue like a melody that pulled at the men who could hear making them desire her presence in every way.
-
Claxter gave the bartender some money, and he left to go get the stuff. He came back a little later with everything she asked, and Claxter wasn't sure but it looked slightly better than what the patrons usually got. He did a good job of removing all the scales, and the baked potato wasn't too hard from overcooking. Still, his expression remained stony as ever and he went back to polishing dirty cups.
<So is there anything you enjoy doing, Candice? Hopefully your life isn't always filled with pain and fear.>
-
Lucan noticed that Jade blushed and lowered her gaze as he caressed her pointed ear. "Jade am I making you uncomfortable?" Lucan asked as he dropped his hand to his side. Acting on a sudden impulse, Lucan removed both of his gloves and put them in a jacket pocket. His hands were slightly cool to the touch and he had a Asudeuhc on his fingerpads where a humans fingerprints would be. Each on were a dull pink in color as were the rest of his Asudeuhc.
-
Michael nods, acknowledging Catie, taking the seat offered to him. "While a medical officer is useful, 1 am afraid that 1 would benefit more from a... cybernetics specialist. The only other thing 1 would require would be some form of terminal. Not only can I compensate you with what you remove, but 1 can also offer information and tech schematics that would be beneficial to you, both... personally and financially."
Michael isn't exactly sure whether these are chances he should be taking or whether these are people he can even trust, but he's certain that right now, he has no choice. He's in unknown territory with creatures he's never seen with no idea on how to proceed. And until he has some means of obtaining what passes for currency here, it looks like schematics and information are all he has to offer for now.
And if I don't find a specialist soon, there's a very real chance a timed wipe could fry my brain on the assumption that I'm AWOL or captured in order to protect their secrets.
"And if 1 does not find a specialist soon, there's a very real chance a timed wipe could fry my brain on the assumption that 1 am AWOL or captured in order to protect their secrets."
-
Jade looked up surprised. "No, no, no. Of course not!" she said blushing brighter. She took his hand into hers. She looked into his eyes her blush gone. "I've never been uncomfortable around you, Lucan..."
-
Lucan looked at Jade with his bright green eyes and smiled. Outside in the sunlight the silver stripe on his face shined bright, making it look almost white against his dark blue skin. "I am glad for that Jade and I am also glad to see you once again after all of these years. May I ask what you have been doing these past five years? I promise to tell you what has happened to me as well as to the reason of this." Lucan said in his watery, soft voice as he pointed to his silvery white face stripe.
-
Corliss grips the metal edge of the pool, looking down at the murky gray water.
<<Are you sure you want to do this?>> Mike asks.
The Yeerk laughs quietly, a small smile crossing Mike's face. <<Are you sure you want to go back to that bloody bar?>>
Mike sighs. <<Just...keep her in a good mood, will ya?>>
<<'Course I will,>> Corliss replies, leaning Mike's body over the edge of the pool and tilting his head to the side. His expression dulls as Corliss slithers and squirms out of his head, slowly releasing control back to Mike.
In a few moments Corliss slips under the warm surface of the pool, glad to be able to stretch. Curiously he fires a few sonar clicks, searching for Terenia.
Mike stands up and wipes at his ear with the back of his sleeve, wincing. He frowns down at the pool.
"Have fun," he says coyly, rolling up his sleeves as he steps back into the cabin.
-
Efaen's stalk eye swivels at the sound of human footsteps approaching. She recognizes Serid; an identity that is confirmed a few moments later through thought-speak.
<Hello, Warrior,> she responds stiffly. She still isn't entirely sure that she trusts the nothlit. The fact that he spent so much time as a host to Illim makes her uneasy, the irony of the situation failing to occur to her.
Terenia's small Yeerk form picks up the current changes as Corliss enters the small Yeerk Pool. She pauses in her aimless swimming through the murky water, allowing him to locate her.
<<Great, so now I'm stuck with you,>> she mutters in thought-speak that excludes Mike. She is clearly still irritated and, on top of that, the topic of conversation has left her feeling flustered.
-
<<Weird place, huh?>> Illim murmurs to Derrel as they survey the room's occupants. <<Even for a Yeerk, this is a weird place,>> he smirks internally.
Growing bored, he ponders calling Myitt again to let her know he really would be coming to the rebellion soon. Considering the grouchy reception he received the last time, though, he decides against it for now. So what now? he thinks. Remaining passive inside a host is already making him nearly as restless as being in a Pool. Oh well--think of it as practice for quarantine.
Serid gives Efaen a nod that is still respectful while being a bit on the shallow side. <Are your plans still underway, my Prince?> he asks, shifting his focus to Ossanlin. The plans to which he refers--those including Terenia and Efaen, and eventually himself--are evident by the hopeful gleam in his dark eyes.
-
Corliss swims idly over to Terenia, waving his palps in the Yeerkish equivalent of a shrug.
<<Good to know you're so pleased,>> he says dryly.
Mike gives the cabin a last glance before stepping down the ramp of the Skimmer, sealing the ship up securely behind him. He stuffs his hands in his black uniform pockets and trudges off towards the bar, feeling strangely empty and conflicted. Perhaps a drink would do him good.
Yeah, he thinks bitterly to himself, if the barkeep has a proper pint.
-
"I will assist you, Artemis.", Vogefac said.
Then he cringed, "That is if you will allow it. My physical strength is superior to anyone in this bar I am sure. You would not fall if I assisted you, you have my word."
-
Salem briefly tensed up when Rathien's arm went around his shoulder, but as soon as he realized that he wasn't being attacked, he relaxed a bit, putting his arm around the hunter in turn. He was tempted to try to put the Ildari in a chokehold from this position, but physically, he was pretty sure he was not going to come out ahead.
He listened, curiously, as Mar spoke about 'killing a person who wasn't dreaming at all.' The being had to be talking about himself.
"You're one of the more interesting hunters I've met," he said with a grin to Rathien. "You speak of your fate and your little dream ending thing. I'm with him," he said with a nod towards Mar. "It won't end well for you."
Al nodded towards Rathien, "Good to see you again," he said, stone-faced.
The grin disappeared from Salem's face. He moved away from Rathien's arm and looked him in the eye, "What do you want, Ildari?"
-
Claxter gave the bartender some money, and he left to go get the stuff. He came back a little later with everything she asked, and Claxter wasn't sure but it looked slightly better than what the patrons usually got. He did a good job of removing all the scales, and the baked potato wasn't too hard from overcooking. Still, his expression remained stony as ever and he went back to polishing dirty cups.
<So is there anything you enjoy doing, Candice? Hopefully your life isn't always filled with pain and fear.>
Candice's jaw dropped when the food came out for it looked more delicious than she had ever seen it. Mind you, she never saw it on her own plate unless it was left overs of some kind. Before she got a chance to answer Claxter's question, she had picked up the fish and taken two large bites out of it, not even bothering to check for bones. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, not having excellent table manners, especially when she is hungry. She didn't look at him when she spoke for fear of his reaction.
"I love to sing, but I am forbidden to. I like to dance, but I've had no teacher. I like to fly and sit on the beach lost in thought. All of the things I love, the people in my life have tried to rid me of." She gave many other examples after singing so he hopefully wouldn't focus on it. Then she went back to munching on her fish until it was down to just the spine. Once that was gone, she popped the vegetables in her mouth one by one until they were gone as well. Candice stopped abruptly with wide eyes and immediately turned to Claxter and did the best bow she could in the stool.
"Thank you for paying for this delicious meal." She turned to the bartender and repeated herself to him too flushing mildly from having forgot, still subconsciously expecting to be punished.
-
<Wel,, I'm no dancer. Maybe someone could teach you how to dance. there's also a lake nearby to relax at, though I haven't noticed if the shore is very sandy. There's also a lot of room to fly around, and be alone if you want privacy. I also really doubt there's a rule against singing here either. We even have a piano, though I haven't seen anyone play it.>
<You're welcome for the meal. It seems you really enjoyed it.>
<<You're telling me. I can't imagine it getting weirder than this, but I'll probably be proven wrong sooner or later.>> Derrel said.
-
Parker held up his hand to Vogefac, "It's okay, I got her." He put his arm around her back in a sort of half hug. He lifted her enough, that she could take steps on her own, but not feel any of her weight as she walked. As she requested to go outside, he began guiding her through the bar.
He looked back at Vogefac as they went and added, "Thank you though." He gave him a courteous nod before turning his his head away to watch where they were going. He had hoped that the gratuitous nod would also be observed as a courteous dismissal; but he wouldn't be surprised if Vogefac ended up following along.
He looked down to Silver and asked, "So where would you like to go? The lake again?"
-
Candice ate the potato insides and left the skin on the plate. She turned to Claxter and addressed what he said.
"I do not know what this 'piano' is that you speak of, but I will not sing, not near men's ears. Though flying does sound nice, especially around a lake. That would be wonderful." Her eyes went dreamy and her tone followed sounding more ethereal and alluring than any time yet. She parted her lips in a small smile as she saw herself soaring over the lake in her mind's eye.
-
Claxter didn't know why she didn't want to sing in front of men, but he didn't prod her. <Alright. I'll show you the lake.> He said, and turned to walk out the door. He made his way to the front door, keeping his stalk eyes on her. He just couldn't stop looking at her, but she was so beautiful. Even though she didn't look anything like an Andalite.
-
She nodded and slipped off the stool and followed after him, being a little uncomfortable with two of his eyes turned around just to watch her. She looked down to avoid the gaze and just followed after him. She was extremely surprised that he didn't question her about the singing. Most people would have. Candice started to ponder why he was being so nice to her. Was it a ploy, was he leading her to this lake to take advantage of her? Was he going to kill her? So many thoughts and more swam around her mind, but still she followed. He was a man, and she always would have a weapon over men. So many never realized until it was far too late.
-
As Claxter walked across the field, having some grass, his stalk eyes started scanning like usual. Maybe because on the way Candice wasn't looking at him or talking. As he got closer, he noticed a trail. It seemed Ossanlin and efaen were nearby.
<It appears That a couple other Andalites are nearby. My superior officer, and a friend of mine. I'm in the military, by the way, so I have a superior officer to answer to from time to time.>
Finally the reached the lake. <Here we are. nice place, huh?>
-
<<Thrilled,>> Terenia responds lowly. She knows that Corliss hasn't actually done anything worth being angry over, but she doesn't know how else to react to him. She is silent for a few moments before speaking again. <<Why did you come into the pool? You don't need to feed. You were in here long enough while I was borrowing Mike.>>
Efaen directs her main eyes at Ossanlin, waiting for his response. She too is eager to carry on with the mysterious process - both out of her own curiosity and because it will allow her to begin her mission sooner. And, of course, the added bonus of never needing to fret over Terenia trying to reinfest her. A cautious stalk eye remains on Serid, the other picking up on Claxter and a stranger somewhat in the distance. She does not offer them a greeting.
-
Corliss is silent a moment before answering. <<I didn't want to leave you in here alone,>> he says lamely, his tone obvious even to a non-native speaker of the ultrasonic language. <<I know what it's like.>>
-
<<Yeah, so do I,>> Terenia says shortly. <<You left me in here for how long while wandering around the bar, taking shots at Efaen and fighting with Salem? And when do you decide to return? When freaking Zorish shows up. Thanks so much for your consideration. It totally made my day.>>
-
<<Terenia,>> Corliss replies, trying and failing to keep the edge out of his voice, <<I did those things because we couldn't leave here without making absolutely sure we're secure.>>
Mike pushes open the big wooden door, peering into the gloomy bar. The place frankly made him nervous without Corliss, but he was still armed, and he had the reflexes Corliss had honed to use the weapon.
He brushes back his mess of black, shaggy hair, his black uniform's sleeves still rolled to his elbows. How long had it been since he'd had a proper haircut?
With a sigh he heads toward the bar counter, his black boots creaking along the wooden floorboards, his eyes shifting uncomfortably from one corner of the bar to the other.
Mustering a grin, he sets both hands on the grimy, peeling shellacked counter.
"Bass Ale, please," he says, more confidently than he feels. "D'you have it, like, not chilled?"
The bartender stares at Mike with a bored expression, drying a mug with a grubby towel.
Mike clears his throat. "Just a Bass Ale. On the tab, then." Hesitantly he slides onto one of the wooden bar stools.
-
Silver didnt answer Vogefac as Parker beat her to it. She offered him a soft smile though. "Thank you anyway." When Parker thanked him she thought she heard a dismissal in his tone. Why would he do that? Was he....? No he couldn't be.....could he? She couldn't think too much on it as it hurt to focus ay the moment. She instead made sure one foot made it in front of the other. She nodded. "The lake sounds fine....."
Jade's eyes saddened slightly. She lowered her gaze to the lake shore. "I've been trying to figure or a way to contact my people to let them know I am safe. I worry about my Sekasha.... they protected me and I them....but I cannot contact another dimension without very very powerful magick....." She said softly.
-
Lucan noted that Jade's eyes were full of sadness when she spoke of not being able to contact her people. "Jade I wish there was something, anything, I could do to assist you" Lucan said in a remorseful tone of voice. Lucan gently encircled her shoulders with his arm and hugged her close so she could lean her head onto his shoulder, but still walk beside him.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods. <I believe that those are worthy causes, provided that our goal is to destroy the Empire specifically...to liberate the galaxy from their war-mongering tyranny. It's important to remember...>
Ossanlin cuts off as Serid sends a thought-speech message. He glances at Efaen with his main eyes as she greets Serid, and moves a stalk to look at Serid also. He is not keenly pleased to be interrupted. <Hello Warrior. Do you have anything to report?> He chooses not to address Serid's question immediately. It is evident that the being has been away from the military and his own people for quite some time...some strictness was in order to set him back into the correct mentality.
Ossanlin also notices Claxter's form approaching the lake some distance away with another very odd being. He sighs internally but shows no outward signs of his irritation. He felt he had finally been making progress with Efaen and it seemed like all of his charges had decided to "check in" at that very moment. He half-expects his communicator to chirp with a message from the Tyrennian.
He removes his hoof from the water and keeps one stalk on Efaen, the other on Serid as he scans the surface of the lake with his main eyes waiting for Serid to speak again.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________
~Rathien~
Rathien lowers his arm as Salem moves away and shrugs at him. "A good time, some fun, entertainment, gratification, pleasure...take your pick." He runs his tongue over a fang.
He glances at Mar, shrugging again. "I have learned what I have learned...and forgive me for sounding rude, but I don't have a single reason to trust anything you say, one called Mar."
-
Candice nodded, she knew Enough about the military to understand that if his superior officer said to do something, he had to. She looked toward the two andalites and marked similarities in her mind between them and Claxter. Her eyes drifted away once they neared the shore. Her Eyes glistened in the sun light, the ice blue appearing even paler. Her waist length hair sparkled with its silver hue as it moved with the breeze. Her face brightened up as she looked it over, finally seeing something she was use to.
"It's beautiful!" She said with a sing-songy voice as it carried on the air. Candice ran toward the water and splashed about making sure to keep her wings dry but Didnt worry about anything else. She only ended up waist deep in crystal clear water, but she was soaked head to toe, yet her wings remained dry. She waved over to Claxter to get his attention.
"what are you standing out there for? Come in, the water is fine." Her voice had a mild pull to it, though it would grow stronger with her happier mood.
-
<<Yeah,>> Terenia says with a thought-speak sigh. <<I know. I just...>> she falters, finding it difficult to remain angry. She is not the sort of person to hold to her emotions long - they are far too volatile and shifting for that. It hardly helps that Corliss has done nothing to directly feed her anger. His eternal calmness is infuriating in its own way - infuriating because it makes it impossible for her to be furious.
<<I don't like being alone,>> she finally says, sounding embarrassed. <<I still have Andalite and human instincts, you know. Neither of those species are too happy to be blind and helpless, submerged in gunk. And I'm used to...I'm used to having Efaen around too. Even when I feed, she's never far off. Never out of thought-speak range. When you left me along here I ->> she cuts off, feeling foolish. <<Nevermind. I don't know why I'm talking about this with you.>>
Zorish finally finds what he is looking for - the audio transcript of the file that brought him here. Curiously, he plays it back, listening to the thought-speak voice intently. He finds it a bit difficult at first; thought-speak tends to sound the same to him, no matter who is speaking. After a third play-back, though, there is no denying the identity of the voice.
<<So,>> Zorish muses. <<The Andalite female has a bigger role in this after all. Corliss identified her as Terenia's former host.>>
<<Terenia, who is supposedly Teresa,>> Tammy says.
<<Yes. Clearly the two are not on good terms. Perhaps the Andalite will be of use to us.>>
<<You want to make a deal with an Andalite?>> Tammy asks fearfully. Zorish does not respond directly. Instead, he takes the opportunity to check his weapons, making sure that they are once again functional, before opening the hatch and hopping down to the gravel.
"If nothing else," he finally says aloud, "I am beginning to get a clearer picture of what has happened here. Let's go find our Andalite."
He sets off for the bar, cloaking his ship behind him.
-
<Ok.> claxter said, and jumped into the water. It felt pretty nice, as Candice had said. He did manage to see his Prince, but didn't see reason to go up to him. He didn't actually go swimming very often, so he couldn't really think of much to do now that he was in the water. He just found a spot to sort of float in the water with most of his body submerged, taking in the scenery.
-
Vogefac's brows furrowed just slightly as Parker helped Artemis away. Not in anger but in confusion. Why was he so eager to help Artemis. He looked for claxter but he wasn't in sight. In fact he couldn't locate any of his friends.
But he noticed that Alliance girl from before.
He walked over to her and her friend just to occupy himself.
"Excuse me. I believe we've met.", he directed to both of them.
-
<<I don't like being alone, either,>> Corliss mutters, embarrassed. It's all he can think to say after Terenia has finished admonishing him for leaving her. What else could he say? This was a human girl, used to Andalite senses, and it was all too familiar how confining his normal life was after the freedom of being with Mike. Even in the pool, at home, there were his fellow soldiers. His brothers. It was uncomfortable to confront the idea at last.
-
Candice smiles gleefully when Claxter agrees to join her. She ends up swimming circles around him on her stomach. She barely used her taloned feet to kick, for they weren't meant for swimming. She pulled herself through the water, cooing her laughter. Candice had never had so much fun in her entire life ad she was going to make it last as long as possible.
When her laughter faded away, she let herself float on the water on her stomach. It took some effort, but she kept her face out of the water. Her curiosity had finally begun to get to her, so she dampened her joy and questioned Claxter.
"Why didn't you ask before why they wouldn't allow me to sing?"
-
With Candice swimming circles around him, she was bound to notice there was a blade at the end of his muscular tail. He kept it out of the way, though, and tried not to intimidate her with it. In truth, though, she probably noticed while he was leading her to the lake anyway. <I figured it was some stupid meaningless reason.> Claxter said. <Though I suppose it is curious. You have the most beautiful voice I have ever heard. Why is it, then? Why would they stifle such a wondrous thing?>
Derrel noticed Corliss come in, but didn't say anything about it. Or was it Mike? Or Terenia? <<Hey, is there some kind of signal you guys use to tell who is in a body? Or if there's no Yeerk in someone?>>
-
Parker helps Silver exit the bar, and begins guiding them towards the tree line that leads to the lake. He enjoys her presence, once more in his arms. For so long he had wondered if he would see her again. He looked upon her scars and asked, "You know I was afraid for you on that ship, I know you were fatigued when I last saw you. Did you get off of that ship alright?"
-
Terenia doesn't respond to Corliss immediately. She has no response; in truth, she has barely considered his feelings at all. It is a strange notion for her, and she squirms her Yeerk body in discomfort as she mulls it over. What does it matter? His feelings, his desires...they aren't important to you. They aren't going to help you survive. Yet, for some reason, it did matter, and that fact left her temporarily at a loss.
<<Do you think Ossanlin's little magic trick will work?>> she asks at last, changing the topic.
Zorish pushes the door to the bar back open and surveys the room, looking for Efaen or her comrades. His expression falls in disappointment when he realizes that the bar itself is devoid of Andalites. Resigned to searching the woods and beyond he begins to let the door fall closed again when a familiar face catches his eye. Catching the door with one hand he steps over the threshold and crosses the room, a small smile on his face.
"Corliss again, I presume?" Zorish asks, approaching Mike from behind. His right hand rests comfortably next to his Dracon as he slides into the seat next to the dark-haired man. "Unless my host's long-lost sister who somehow magically became a Yeerk is still inhabiting that pretty head?"
He waves the bartender over and orders a scotch, smirking at Mike as he awaits an answer.
-
Derrel noticed Zorish come in, almost leave, then turn back and approach Mike. He let his hand drift to the weapon under the table, but otherwise looked nonchalant. If Zorish tried anything, his friend might need back up. Not that Derrel was a great shot. He tended to stay away from guns because guns often drew unwanted attention.
-
<<Look at you getting protective of his new friends,>> Illim remarks to his host with amusement, watching Zorish and Mike through Derrel's eyes. <<That's good, I suppose; the rebellion will appreciate that quality.>>
In response to his earlier question, he answers, <<It's impossible to tell. Yeerks are particularly good at passing for others. But who knows, maybe Corliss does a fancy ear wiggle or something upon command. I'll have to ask him. Or maybe implement it, myself,>> he says, his grin reflecting on Derrel's face a moment before he releases control over the human's expression again.
Serid looks between the two Andalites a moment before speaking. "My apologies if I interrupted your conversation, my Prince," he bobs his head.
When he talks again, he does so through private thought-speech. <<I spoke with Jocun, an Imperial Yeerk from a future timeline. Perhaps you remember him from the dining establishment. It is as of yet undetermined whether he is from our own timeline or a separate one.>> He clasps his hands in front of him. <<Regardless,>> Serid continues, <<he has offered to assist the rebellion with supplies. As you have been in recent contact with the rebel leader, War Prince, I thought it prudent to confer with you before offering the Yeerk any information or direction.>>
-
Ewa pulled out a chair to sit across from Keshin and Michael. She pursed her lips, briefly, when it left a sticky residue on her hand and surreptitiously wiped it on her pants once she was seated.
"It's almost always useful to have a distinctive name," she answered Keshin. "What is your profession? I had the impression that most of the Andalites and Yeerks here were affiliated with some kind of military or fighting group." Ewa looked at her battered armor/jumpsuit. "I'm going to guess 'not military' for you," she stated with a small smile.
She considered Michael's predicament for a quiet moment, tilting her head and biting the inside corner of her mouth. "Hmm... I can't say I've met anyone like you're looking for. Maybe Al. He may have had something to do with cybernetics." And he might be in a position to actually benefit from schematics. I'm certainly not. She scanned the bar again. "He's not here right now, but he's wearing a tux, so he'd be easy to spot." Returning her gaze to Michael, she brought up one elbow to rest on the table and idly tapped her fingers. "Did you volunteer for this implant that other people can use to kill you with?" More to the point, is it real, or just part of your character? It could be real. Here.
Ewa glanced up when the Reptillinod Catie had pointed out earlier approached the table.
"Excuse me. I believe we've met.", he directed to both of them.
She raised her eyebrows and looked him up and down. "I think I would have remembered that." A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes tracked over to Catie expectantly.
-
<<I really don't know, Terenia,>> Corliss replies with a sigh. <<His abilities, whatever they are, they're...unlike anything I'm familiar with.>> He pauses. <<I do hope it works.>>
Mike looks up at Zorish in surprise, paying the bartender for his lukewarm pint of ale. In spite of his wariness at the Imperial's nosy attitude, he smiles at the drink.
"Nah," he replies, taking a sip and erring on the side of honesty. "There's no one in me 'ead but me, for once. The name's Mike Leicester. I know who you are, dead girl, there's no need for niceties."
-
Candice had noticed his tail with the blade on the end, but only let it flicker for a moment before smiling once more. He wasn't a threat yet, so for now she would play her part as if he weren't a threat to her. When he complemented her voice her smile faltered, for she knew it was just a trick she couldn't control that only worked on men. She gazed into the crystal clear water, her expression growing mournful knowing that the happy moment was now a thing of the past. Candice spoke softly trying to keep the pull out of her voice best she could so the tinkling bells were a faint windchime in the distance.
"My voice is only beautiful to men. Women hear me as I truly am. They are not blinded by me." She raised her ice blue gaze, tears making her eyes glisten. Candice spread her wings wide and flapped them creating a gust of wind strong enough to raise her from the water. She let herself hover about two feet above the water and spoke loud enough for him to hear over the wind her wings produced.
"Half of my blood is Siren, the other Harpy. I am dangerous to men, so my silence is demanded." She let him process for a moment why he felt a pull toward her then spoke again. "Now you should understand why people wish to control me and why you should want nothing more to do with me." She could no longer control her tears as they streamed down her cheeks silently making ripples in the water below her.
-
Claxter felt conflicted when she told him her voice had power over men. His feelings for her were fake. In a way it made sense. The feelings he felt just weren't natural when felt towards someone who wasn't an Andalite, right? <I suppose you shouldn't sing, then. At least, not where men can hear you.> He sounded sad, as his feelings stirred within him. Did he have the right to ask her not to talk? She didn't seem the type to abuse it, and it seemed she couldn't turn it off. He didn't want to hurt her feelings by leaving, but could he control himself if he stayed?
-
<<So do I,>> Terenia says, although she sounds conflicted rather than excited. <<I find it hard to trust the Andalite, though. He hasn't exactly brought a bucket full of sunshine along with him to this place.>>
She sighs internally, squirming her little Yeerk body further away from Corliss. <<What if I can't be human anymore?>> she muses, sounding depressed by the idea. <<What if I've spent so much time being an Andalite and a Yeerk that I've forgotten how?>>
"Dead girls can't be nice?" Zorish asks, chuckling as he takes a swig of scotch. A slight grimace crosses his host's features, a combined reaction from the alcohol and the fact that it is only Corliss' host that is present. Despite the fact that Corliss had been disagreeable during their last conversation, Zorish had a feeling that he was likely to get more information from the Yeerk. Besides, Zorish was hardly accustomed to speaking to free humans, aside from his own host.
<<Do the rebel traitors always allow their hosts to wander freely?>> he wonders internally. <<Even voluntaries aren't allowed outside of the pool room on the Blade Ship.>>
<<Maybe we should be,>> Tamora offers timidly. To this Zorish only laughs.
"Well, Mike Leicester, it's a pleasure," Zorish says the human name snidely, but otherwise his tone is pleasant enough as he hunches over his drink. He takes a second, slower sip, noting that he needs to be careful. His earlier drinks have still not entirely worked their way out of Tamora's system and he is beginning to feel a little light headed. "I was hoping to find the Andalite female here. The one who was so eager to help earlier in regards to Terenia. Any idea where she might be?"
-
Candice just nods, and doesn't bother to wipe away her tears. She hovers there, her wings flapping in the wind idly. She watches his expression, surprised to not hear him yell at her to get as far away from him as possible. He has yet to hit her, but she can't help but feel that this is the straw that breaks everyone. Fearing his anger she flies higher letting the breeze catch her sparkling silver white wavy hair and tousle it around while ruffling her white feathers. Candice ends up just out of his reach but still in full sight dripping water.
She fears what he will say and how he will take it if she speaks so she lets it hang in the air.
-
<I think you're a good person, Candice.> Claxter said, thinking she was wary of him and expecting some sort of violence. she had already said she expected to be punished before. <I don't think everything I feel for you is completely fake, because you are good and I enjoy speding time with good people. I have enjoyed meeting you, and hope that you will still enjoy yourself for as long as you're here. I also hope we can enjoy each other's company, if I can manage to keep my feelings under control.> He said, smiling.
-
Keshin grumbles, joining the group. Michael doesn't seem like a very good lead, but this woman called Ewa might be. "No, definitely not military. Myself and my host work alone, and are hunted at points by the Empire. We're not the two most well-known people in the galaxy, but we're not nobodies either. If you have illegal dealings, there's a pretty good chance you've heard of our working name."
<And we're tellin' the babe this why?>
<She's not Empire, and she's not a rebel. We need to find out what she is instead.>
<Oh, good. Let's run into death.>
Keshin puts a hand to Joanne's head and mutters, "....Look. We've had a bad time in this Bar. As long as you don't want to kill anyone with allies in this place, we're okay with you."
****************************************************************************************
Mar smirks and draws his hand under his chest, bowing in a rather mocking way. "Oh dear sir. No one who meets me trusts anything I say. It seems to come with my...unfortunate reputation among mortals. Quite odd really: I rarely lie either. The most I usually do is twist what I say to suit my ends. I have said nothing that is false to you."
Mar pauses, thinking over what the hunter has said momentarily. He then states with his arms folded behind him, "Mmm...how much does it usually cost to...hire a being like yourself, then? You haven't attacked me or the rebel "princess", though I'm curious as to what the trader could possibly have to hide. "
-
<<Myitt trusts Ossanlin, and I trust my brother, and he's the only chance we've got besides begging Andalite scientists for yet another technological miracle.>> Corliss lowers his palps, considering. <<As for forgetting your humanity, I've spent an awful lot of time being human,>> he supplies gently, <<but I've still never forgotten how to be who and what I am.>>
Mike shrugs. "Haven't seen Efaen, nor do I particularly care to, to be honest," he replies, taking a swig of the dark beer. He eyes Zorish curiously. So strange, how precisely Tamora's features matched what he thought of as Terenia's. He lingers perhaps a bit too long on her face and tears his gaze away, clearing his throat. "I don't mean to disappoint you, but I really don't reckon you'll get much information on Terenia round here. Least of all from me."
-
<<So what, I should trust Ossanlin because you trust your brother, who got me piss-ass drunk by the way, and who also happens to trust Captain Grass-eater?>> Terenia laughs incredulously. <<Is this how the rebellion always works?>>
She swishes her palps irritably, launching into a further rant before he can answer. <<Trust is kind of hard to come by in this war, in case you hadn't noticed. It isn't something I do easily, so tell me why I should trust you, let alone Myitt or Ossanlin.>>
Terenia decides not to mention the fact that she already does, remaining obstinate to the end.
"Right," Zorish nods, setting his drink down with deliberateness. "Because you have some sort of romantic fascination with her, right? At least, that's what the young Andalite warrior said." He tilts his head slightly, tossing Tamora's blonde hair over her shoulder and pouting her lips. "If you don't want to give me information about the Yeerk-girl, fair enough. I am sure I can wheedle it out of others here if I tried hard enough, but frankly, I am tired of the games that are played at this bar, and I am not yet ready to return to my duties." He smirks. "The life of a Sub-Visser isn't always quite as grand as one may think."
Lifting the glass of scotch to his lips again he pauses before taking a sip, eying Mike over the rim. "So if you won't tell me about Terenia, tell me about yourself, Michael Leicester. Or, better yet, tell me about the traitor that you so easily accept into your mind." He inches Tamora's body imperceptably closer to him.
-
Candice smiles faintly, a small glimmer of joy twinkling in the corner of her eyes. She is extremely surprised that he is so kind to her after having not told him that she had siren blood for so long. Though, she blushes a faint tint of pink as he brings up his feelings toward her. After all the men she had seen drool or just become enraged. Candice had never seen a man be effected to the heart, instead of the groin. It made her ponder what made him different from the other men. Does his kindness making him more vulnerable so my voice cuts to the heart, or is it just his species? She couldn't let it just rest in her mind, she questioned him in a cautious voice.
"You 'feel' for me? You don't just desire me? No one has ever felt anything for me except a desire to claim me." She eyed Claxter with a confused expression, making her seem more innocent.
-
<Well I'm sure I have higher moral fiber than the men you are used to. Also we are two very different individuals, and I already have a certain affection for a girl of my species, so it will likely take a bit more than your voice to make me want to 'claim' you.> He said. <I have never heard of an Andalite falling in love with a member of another species, though some Andalites have been known to go AWOL from time to time.>
-
She cooed to herself when he brought up morals, for the men she knew really had very few. It did cheer her up some to hear him so confident that he wouldn't be like the other men in her life. Though she grew bleak again once he brought up love. That was one thing she was raised to never believe in, not for her.
"The men in my life truly know no morals, that is true, but they will never know love because of my voice. This is true too. So do not worry about falling in love with me, for that shall never happen." Her voice sounded of the dying bird's song once more as she dropped her gaze to the ripples in the water beneath her.
-
<Maybe you will find someone. You just need an opportunity.> Claxter said. <Maybe you could learn sign language and date a deaf person. Or maybe...well...that might be a bit controversial. Anyway, you may just get some opportunity now that you're away from the people who have opressed you your entire life.>
<By the way, do you have any family? Parents? Siblings?>
-
Candice nodded and flew gracefully over Claxter, back to shore and landed there with a soft landing. She sat down and looked over the lake, just enjoying the view of it now before she spoke.
"A mother and a father, but neither do I see much anymore. No siblings though, cousins, but they deny my very existence." She pauses for a moment and finds a pebble among the grainy sand and rocks and tosses it into the water, avoiding any obstacles out there. "My mother bore me and raised me until I was 6. At age 6 I started to be 'rude' and 'didn't know my place'. That was her last straw, and she left me in a temple to anyone who would take me or do with me as they pleased. My father was only a part of my life until I was 2, then the Harpies found out he had a child with Siren and they forbid him to see me again." She turned cold blank eyes on Claxter with a hollow wind of a voice.
"I don't have a family. Just those who bore me or took me under their hole ridden wings."
-
In response to Rathien, Salem laughed, in spite of himself. "Have your fun, then, hunter, but at this rate I'm going to have to put bells on you." He shot a glance at Al- the android was obviously not enjoying this situation, but at least he seemed to have gone from being on the defensive to simply observing.
Salem listened to Mar's talk of twisting his words to benefit himself with some discomfort. Surely that's not what the being had just done, right? Their current deal seemed... well, almost too good to be true, on his end. Perhaps he should have been more wary...
He shook his head. What's done is done. He smirked at Mar, "Highest, there's a certain value in... limiting the information that's available about oneself, especially when some of that information could get me killed. This one," he nodded towards Rathien, "obviously knows far too much about me. Trust me, he might claim the money doesn't mean much to him, but when he has a say, he still asks far more than he's worth."
-
<<Because we're trying to help you, and we don't even rightly know you,>> Corliss says obstinately. <<Isn't it conceivable that we're just lovely people?>> The wry amusement in his tone indicates he'd be smiling if he could.
"Nice try," Mike laughs, looking down into his beer. "I don't talk much about Corliss, or myself for that matter. That whole, 'I'm a criminal and you're working for the government' thing doesn't exactly help, either. Suffice it to say we've been friends for a very long time, him and me."
-
<I am sorry to hear that. I have been separated from my family, but only because of the war.> Claxter said. <Life is seldom easy for half breeds, but you are still a person and should be treated as such. Perhaps with your new independence, you will be able to start a new family.>
-
Before Candice even processed a solid thought, she shot rage filled eyes toward Claxter.
"No." She said firmly and flatly, voice like waves crashing around you about to draw you under. Her quit temper screamed underlying emotions toward what Claxter had said. The reason she fled her home was because the man who ran the temple had arranged a marriage for her. She had sworn herself to stay pure her entire life, and starting a family was the farthest thing from that. She never wished to be tainted by a male.
-
<You knew me enough to kiss me,> Terenia points out, then immediately wishes that she hadn't. She is for once glad for their sightless slug bodies. If she had been human her blush would have been unavoidable. She swishes her palps awkwardly, and gives the thought-speak equivalent of clearing her throat. <Lovely people are hard to come by these days,> she says quietly. <But I suppose you haven't tried to off me yet, so that's definitely a start.>
"You're no fun," Zorish sighs, leaning back with a disgruntled expression. "How about this: how'd you find this place?" He sips the scotch discontentedly. Whereas Corliss had been infuriatingly quick to anger, his host is even more infuriating, and in a completely different way. His tight lips make her own twist into a frustrated sneer of disapproval.
-
((...sorry...))
Catie smiled as the Reptilinod lumbered over, "Yes, we've met. Only briefly. I tried to help you. You looked injured, but some weird glowing happened."
Vogefac cut the Alliance girl off, "Yes. Well, I might as well introduce myself. I am Vogefac.", he bows his head to Catie and Ewa, "Forgive the intrusion."
He sits down right next to Ewa an orders a Rev'maak ale.
-
<Um, ok.> Claxter said. He returned to shore in awkward silence, feeling he should change the subject but unsure what to change it to. <I try not to plan too far into the future because there could always come a day when my life is cut short. Such is the problem with war. Hopefully you'll never know the kind of enslavement that controllers know.>
-
Candice looks away from him with great effort to the lake and father to the forest. She tries to breathe and calm herself, not being able to afford anger. She nods as he speaks knowing it all to be true. Her expression softened with mild confusion and spoke gentler than before, but still a cutting edge.
"What is a controller?"
-
<A controller is someone with a Yeerk in their head. A Yeerk is a parasite that controls a host through their brain. You are still aware, and can think, but you have no control over your own body. The Yeerk has access to your memories, and all of your most guarded secrets. It is the Yeerks that we are at war with, though not all Yeerks are enemies. Some hosts are voluntary for complicated reasons that differ between them, and some Yeerks oppose the government that we fight. Those Yeerk rebels that only take voluntary hosts can usually be trusted to a certain extent.>
-
Corliss laughs. <No, you're right, I haven't tried to off you, yet,> he says, amused. <Then again, you haven't done the same to me. Does that mean we're in a relationship?>
Mike shrugs. "Reckon we first heard about this through one of Corliss' brothers," he says casually. "Years ago, really. Although this is the sort of place that tends to find you whether you're searching for it or not." He peers over at Zorish's familiar face. "How about you, Sub-Visser? Do you often receive strange messages telling you to seek out the place where you died?"
-
<In a - a what!?> Terenia cries, aghast. Her experience with relationships amount to giving herself and her sister a cootie shot in the third grade. She can still remember the little rhyme that went along with the hand motions. Circle circle, dot dot. Now I have my cootie shot. Since leaving Earth the last thing on her mind has been boys, despite the fact that she was, in human years, past her adolescence. At the point when it would have been considered normal for her, as an Andalite, to start noticing males she was far too concerned with proving herself in the military.
Besides, Corliss wasn't a boy. He wasn't...anything, really. Yeerks were genderless. But Mike is, a small voice reminds her, a voice that she tries to shove aside hastily.
<Do you always consider yourself to be in a relationship with people you aren't trying to actively kill?> she asks suspiciously.
"Oh yes," Zorish says sarcastically, smiling easily. "Just another typical day in the Empire." He finishes off his drink, surprised to find that he's reached the end so quickly. Setting the tumbler down he shrugs. "Typically I might dismiss such a ridiculous transmission, but there was a seriousness to it that seemed...important. Besides, I was bored. Do you have any idea how tedious categorizing human cultural movements can become?" He wrinkles Tamora's nose in irritation at the thought. "So many rituals and customs, across so many different peoples. It's absurd. The slightest differences in skin pigmentation or geographical origin and there's an entire new list of superstition and ritual to document." He is vaguely aware that he is being more chatty than normal.
<<Oh please, you love your work,>> Tamora says, giggling a little inside their shared mind. <<Keeps you out of trouble and keeps you feeling important. Isn't that what all Yeerks want?>>
<<You are intoxicated,>> Zorish sneers, feeling a little lightheaded himself.
<<Then so're you,>> Tamora responds with another giggle.
-
Silver slowly walked with Parkers help towards the lake. It was straining on her but she thought she was a burden all ready, so she didn't want to be anymore trouble. She loved the fresh air around her, it helped her think, though not much. She moved slowly using him to support herself. She had missed him so....had thought him gone from her forever. "Nothing more than my usual weakness" she said trying to smile for him.
Jade laid her head on his shoulder a soft look on her face. "I thank you but I'm not sure if there is anything either of us can do...." She said sadly.
-
Lucan rubbed Jade's shoulder as she spoke sadly of there being nothing they could do to return her to her world. "Jade, I know exactly how you feel right now." Lucan said softly. He spotted a large flat rock that would allow them to sit and talk and began leading Jade towards it. "Would you like to sit and I will tell you what has happened to me? I also wish to tell you how I know the sadness of never seeing your world again." Lucan asked softly.
-
<No,> Corliss says thoughtfully. <In fact, you might've guessed that I've never done this sort of thing before.> His ultrasonic tone varies in pitch, the Yeerkish equivalent of dry wit. <Relationships typically don't end well for my people. But of course you're not really a Yeerk, which makes me really quite confused as to how this is even happening.>
Mike glances over at Zorish, watching the Sub-Visser's expression go blank with what was unmistakably an internal conversation.
"I rather like our differences, you know," he says offhandedly, taking a few big gulps of beer to steel his nerves. "Otherwise we'd all end up watching American football and become awfully self-righteous in our patriotic homogeneity. Although, granted, all those differences mean that there are plenty of human cultures who rival the Yeerk Empire's sense of superiority." He shrugs. "There will always be wars within the human race."
-
<Well I don't exactly have much experience myself, you know,> Terenia shoots back dryly. <I've kind of been stuck trying to stay alive the past ten years. I haven't really had time for a social life.>
She trails off, letting her Yeerk form drift in the slight current of the pool. Then, <Are we in a...you know...?>
Zorish's laugh is a little less restrained than he is going for, but he doesn't seem to notice. "Not if our people put a stop to them," he points out. "Really we'd be doing you a favor. So much death and destruction amongst humanity. The Empire is offering them a common cause." He grins, scooting his chair a bit closer to Mike and adding in a conspiratorial whisper, "Besides, we all know some of you humans enjoy letting someone else take control."
-
<I, um,> Corliss hesitates, unsure of how to answer and unsure of the answer itself. <I-If you want to be? What am I saying...Terenia, I know you and I are...we're very different. Perhaps it's foolish to think that this could ever work. Maybe now that I'm not with Mike...things can be so confusing when it comes to human emotion, I...> He sighs, and is quiet for a long moment. <I will only pursue this silly emotional adventure if you want me to.>
Mike laughs outright, setting down his beer. "Is that what your host tells you?" he says. "Only fools enjoy being controlled. I only put up with it because the benefits are so fantastic. Getting shot at and hunted and all the bloody cabbage you can eat. Great, really." He gives the Sub-Visser a cynical look. "I reckon you're underestimating humanity's ability to persevere. Anyway it's not our common cause if we're just stuck helpless in the back seat while you lot go on enjoying everything our planet and our bodies have to offer."
-
<I don't know how to be in a relationship,> Terenia says. <I've made such a mess of my own life, how can I willingly throw you into it? Or Mike? And why the hell do I care so much?> She growls in frustration. <I don't...I want you to be happy,> she says, sounding relatively surprised by this fact, as though the realization is entirely foreign to her. <Whatever...whatever that means.>
"My host has no complaints about her current situation," Zorish says, tilting his head so that a sweep of blonde hair falls over his shoulder. "At least, her current situation with me. She's relatively concerned by the fact that her dead sister is evidently waltzing around in a Yeerk costume. Understandably so, I would say. For a human, she's relatively palatable." Unbeknownst to him a small, fond smile has appeared on his face.
-
<I want...that, too,> Corliss replies, swimming forward to touch her gently.
Mike grins, watching Zorish. "See, you're not so different from me mate Corliss," he says, sipping his beer thoughtfully. "You're just stuck in your job, afraid that maybe you won't fit in as a traitor. He wasn't so different from you, when he was younger."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin furrows his brow at Serid. <That is odd indeed Warrior...it sees to make no sense. If he is from our timeline, and I truly hope that is not the case...then he would be working against his own cause, or so it would seem. If he's not from our timeline, he shouldn't be muddling around in ours.> He draws his hoof from the water, stamping the hoof on the sand in front of him. <As for interrupting...you have been under the control of a Yeerk for some time, not to mention being deprived of your own natural form...some improprieties are to be expected. Think nothing of it.>
He turns his main eyes on Serid. <As for your original question, Warrior...I hope to perform the procedure upon Terenia shortly, but I must be absolutely certain that everything is in position and that I have enough energy built up to finish the process. I will send you a communication when I believe that the procedure is in the near future.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _______________
~Rathien~
Rathien chuckles and glances at Mar again before speaking. "Oh Tobias has a great deal to hide. I trust he's shown you his "demo" collection of oddments. Some very interesting things there, but there are many things he doesn't show anyone." He looks back at Salem. "Have you told them about the 'Hope' drive Tobias? That you're not from anyone's universe? That you can leap from one Universe to another all by your little lonesome? And poor Thienal...forced to start anew every time you rip him out of existance...I do sympathize with him."
He looks back at Mar again. "As for cost...well, contrary to what Tobias here says, I'm very good at what I do. It is not money that drives me, it's challenge. A difficult target is worth much more than currency. Executing the Kill on a challenging oponent...there is nothing more exhilerating, nothing more pleasurable...nothi ng more exquisite. Money is a bi-product, one known as Mar."
-
Terenia feels his slimy body make contact with hers and her initial reaction is to pull away again. But she doesn't. Instead, she remains very still, moving only her palps.
<Okay then,> she says tremulously. <Yeah. Okay. I guess...> she laughs in his mind, sounding embarassed. <Shouldn't we get Mike's opinion about all this?>
You're comparing me to that dapsen traitor?" Zorish asks, pulling away and wrinkling his nose. "Why, because I don't spend every second of the day trying to make Tamo- my host's life miserable? I've got news for you, human. Most of our people don't have time to play torture-the-host. There are more important things to do and it isn't exactly the most intelligent approach to the situation. Having someone fight your every move every second of the day becomes very tedious very quickly."
<<I've never fought you,>> Tamora says quietly.
<<Shut up, that's not he point!>>
Efaen watches the exchange quietly, not offering her opinion. She too is eager to get the procedure with Terenia over with, but she also does not want to push the issue. Instead, she watches Serid closely with her main eyes. The nothlit holds a morbid fascination for her. She is both fascinated and revolted by him at the same time.
-
Corliss, too, remains very still. He has never been this close to another Yeerk for this long, with this much purpose, and it fills his mind with a strange and pleasurable giddiness.
<I think we already know Mike's opinion on all this,> he says in a hushed tone, so close that his sonar clicks don't even echo back at him.
"See?" Mike interjects. "That's exactly what his opinion is on the whole thing. Except, perhaps, he's not afraid to admit that we actually get along. That we're actually friends." He watches Zorish's distasteful expression before adding, "Bloody equals."
-
<I guess we do, don't we?> Terenia says, her thoughts a bit jumbled. She is overcome with an acute mixture of happiness and fear as her palps search the contours of Corliss' body. With an uneasy jolt she realizes that she really, truly does care about Corliss, as well as Mike. As much as she's cared for anyone. Perhaps even as much as she cared for her own siblings. This thought is a bit unsettling for her, but she can't seem to bring herself to pull away.
<So we're in a relationship, then,> she says with an incredulous laugh. <What a screwed up war this is.>
Zorish's face has grown ashen, and even though his tumbler is empty he is gripping it tightly.
"I am no traitor, human," Zorish says in a low voice that would have been dangerous if the Scotch weren't slurring it. "I am a Sub-Visser of the Yeerk Empire." He raises Tamora's slightly unfocused blue eyes to his. "Your Corliss and I are nothing alike."
<<Let me talk to him,>> Tamora says so abruptly that it stuns Zorish for a second.
<<Are you out of your mind?>> Zorish asks. <<What good will that do?>>
<<I don't know. I just want to. Please?>>
<<Don't be foolish. I'm here for a purpose.>>
<<Which is what?>> Tamora retorts. <<To drink me under the table? The bartender refilled your cup, by the way.>>
And so he had, while Zorish was lost in internal conversation, his eyes blank and staring. He shakes himself back to reality and glances at the brownish liquid, sighing heavily before raising it to his lips, returning his attention to Mike.
"What was I saying?"
-
Corliss gently touches his palps along hers. <Yes,> he agrees emphatically. <It's certainly reached new levels of ah...'screwed up'.> Reluctantly, slowly, he pulls away. <I wonder how long it will be until Mike returns?>
Mike snorts laughter. "You were trying to convince yourself that you aren't a traitor," he says encouragingly.
-
Derrel continued watching Zorish and Mike talk, noticing that Zorish was getting drunk. He had drunk quite a bit too, but he was still in control of himself. Things had been quiet. No one had come to talk to him, which wasn't surprising. Few people want to talk to dirty smelly men. He kind of wished there were more people that he might observe, but some had filed out, and the rest were quiet. He went to the bar for a refill, and sat close enough to Zorish and Mike to hear them better.
-
<Not long, I hope,> Terenia says, although she isn't sure why she's eager for him to return. His presence means that Corliss will leave, and she'll be alone in the pool again. <I hope Ossanlin can get this stupid thing over with soon. I miss being myself.>
She sighs mentally. <I wonder if I'll feel...differently. ..once I'm human again.>
"I don't need to convince myself of anything," Zorish says crossly. "I'm not a traitor, I'm a loyal servant of the - no, I will not let you talk to him!" Zorish's tone abruptly changes to sharp irritation as he addresses Tamora. He does not seem to realize he has spoken aloud, though, and clears his throat. "I'm a loyal servant of the Yeerk Empire," he says in a slower, more controlled voice.
-
Derrel raised an eyebrow at Zorish's outburst about letting him talk to...whoever. He didn't think he had overheard Mike say he wanted to talk to someone, and who was zorish to say he couldn't? Unless it was actually Tamora who wanted to talk to Mike. Should he say something? would Zorish listen?
"Hey now. No need to fight." He said in his best attempt to sound friendly. "You and your host are on the same side, right? What's the harm in letting her talk? We won't rat you out."
-
<Well of course you'll feel differently, you'll be your old self again, permanently,> Corliss replies. <That's got to be one hell of a change after all this time.> He hesitates. <I do hope we'll feel the same way about each other. God, this is weird. This shouldn't be happening.>
Mike watches as Zorish drunkenly addresses his host. Then he smiles and finishes the last of his lukewarm beer, setting the glass down. "Yeah, a loyal servant of the Yeerk Empire," he drolls. "So am I, you know."
-
<No, it shouldn't,> Terenia agrees. <But...it is. I guess.> She laughs ruefully. <This is insane. I can't believe we're even considering it. I mean, there's three of us, for starters. And you're a...well an alien! And we're in the middle of a war.> She laughs again, trying to calm her nerves.
Zorish glances back at Derrel, wrinkling his nose at the homeless man's stench. "Who invited you in on the conversation?" he snaps before turning back to Mike.
"Just what are you implying, human?" he asks, taking another, probably unnecessary sip of Scotch. "Please, spell it out for me."
-
"I think normally I would, but my new lifestyle change probably requires a change in policy as well. Besides, I've been paying attention to you ever since you started talking to my friend here anyway." Derrel said.
-
<Three of us doesn't seem quite so strange,> Corliss says coyly. <Perhaps it's foolish. Stupid. Naive. I don't care. I...I feel so much more...I don't know. Alive, this way. Does that sound ridiculous?>
Mike gives Derrel a distasteful look. "Thanks for your help, but you'd best get yourself under control, mate," he says pointedly, hoping that Illim will understand his meaning. "We're having a conversation. Sort of, private, like."
He turns and squints at Zorish. "I reckon you know what I'm implying, Sub-Visser," he sighs, waving the bartender over for another beer. "You and Corliss are very much alike, because Corliss had what you have. He believes what you believe. He gave up his career because he couldn't fool himself anymore. Couldn't oppress another living being for his own benefit, dismiss me or his previous hosts as beneath him. Couldn't continue serving a corrupt government that criminalized his belief in equality. Common bloody decency. He decided he would rather risk dying than continue to fight for something he didn't believe in." He takes his fresh glass of beer. "That makes him braver than you'll ever be."
-
<Yes,> Terenia says bluntly. <But...I feel the same way.> Her palps twitch with discomfort. <Corliss, after my sister di- after I killed my sister I thought that was it for me. Everyone I cared about is dead. Everyone I was fighting this damned war for was gone. But you...you make me feel like maybe there's still a thing or two worth fighting for.>
She is glad, once again, that she is incapable of blushing in her current form. <Strangely enough, you remind me I'm still human.>
"I don't have to live in squallor and pretend to have some grand cause to treat my host like a sentient being," Zorish scowls. "And choosing that life does not make your Corliss brave, it makes him a fool." He glances around and lowers his steadily more slurred voice. "Host sympathy only becomes a crime when you go around brandishing it like a damned banner," he hisses. "Whatever the Empire stands for, it likes order. Order for its people and order for its hosts. If that means they must turn a blind eye to a Yeerk who treats his host kindly, then so be it."
Zorish can feel the heat rising in Tamora's cheeks. He knows that he is treading on dangerous ground, but the Scotch seems to have loosened his tongue far more than he would like. Tamora's internal commentary is only making it worse.
<<Maybe he's right,>> she was saying. <<What if we're only hurting ourselves in the long run, staying with the Empire?>>
<<Fool,>> Zorish responds. <<As long as we are with the Empire we are protected, can't you see that? No one, not even Visser Three, is going to murder a Sub-Visser without reason. We are safe. You are safe.>>
<<I still want to talk to him.>>
<<I know everything you want to say. It is pointless. Pointless and dangerous.>>
<<I don't care. Please.>>
Zorish shakes his head and, rather than respond, takes another sip of Scotch.
-
Derrel is kind of disappointed when Mike brushes him off. He gets up and walks back to an empty table to continue drinking alone.
-
<Not alone,> Illim reminds him, chiming in for the first time in a few minutes. <To be fair, they didn't invite you over. But it could be to protect us too, you know? As I'm sure you heard, that Yeerk is a sub-Visser. And there's certain protocol I'm sure even rebels use when speaking with one of them. Don't take it too hard. I never do,> he says cheerfully.
<Thank you, sir,> Serid nods gratefully for the dismissal of his actions. He supposes he has been away from any Andalite sort of sense of order for quite a long time. And any influence Illim's remarkable lack of respect for authority and propriety may have had on him cannot have helped.
<Should I talk with the Imperial again, I will seek out additional information from him. In the meantime, I shall leave you two to speak until I am summoned. Thank you for addressing my questions.> Serid gives a final, small bow. As he turns away, he glances at Efaen, noting her unmistakably unpleasant expression before walking back towards the Bar. He can feel her eyes on him, and his back straightens in response.
-
Jade followed him to the rock sitting beside him looking out over the lake. The light glittered across the surface of the water. She was close to his side, and she wondered what was appropriate to show in such an event. She still didn't understand what she felt for him. As she thought about it she laid her head onhis shoulder.
-
<<Well, I didn't mean alone alone. Just, you know. I guess I shouldn't have interrupted. Not sure what I was thinking.>> Derrel said.
-
As Lucan and Jade sat on the rock and looked out over the lake she laid her head on his shoulder. He took his arm that was wrapped around her shoulder and gently moved it down and in between their bodies so it rested naturally on his knee. Lucan then reached over and gently clasped her hand and interlaced it with his fingers. Her warm skin was stark contrast to his cool skin, but felt rather nice and caused his spots to briefly flash a bright pink. He then took a deep breath and began speaking in his soft, watery voice.
"I know the pain of not being able to see your home world or your family again." Lucan reached up with his free hand and stroked the silver stripe that began at the top of his head, right at the hairline and continued down to the base of his neck. It was as wide as his finger and perfectly straight. "This mark is known on my planet as Pyhecrsahd or Banish Mark. I dishonored my family by not being by my fathers side and hearing his last words of death. Because of this crime I was Marked and forbidden to return to Fringe on pain of death." Lucan takes a deep shuddering breath and looks to be holding back tears. "The fear of having to live in a new and strange world and the sadness of never returning to your family is something that I have had to face these 5 long years." Lucan says sadly while looking out onto the lake.
A slight breeze ruffles the petals of the Nuca flower tucked behind Jades ear gently. Lucan softly squeezed her hand and continued speaking. "I feel that you are the one being I can count on now Jade. I do not wish to be separated from you again and have decided to stay by your side from this moment on. We are two beings that are unfortunately separated from our kind forever and we can help each other through the pain and sorrow and fear in this new life. Do you agree, my love?" Lucan spoke softly with conviction and adoration in his voice.
-
<A controller is someone with a Yeerk in their head. A Yeerk is a parasite that controls a host through their brain. You are still aware, and can think, but you have no control over your own body. The Yeerk has access to your memories, and all of your most guarded secrets. It is the Yeerks that we are at war with, though not all Yeerks are enemies. Some hosts are voluntary for complicated reasons that differ between them, and some Yeerks oppose the government that we fight. Those Yeerk rebels that only take voluntary hosts can usually be trusted to a certain extent.>
Candice's expression contorted with revulsion as he spoke of Yeerks and hosts. She let most of her anger flow away with the new subject and turned a softer expression on him.
"Why would anyone want a Yeerk inside of them? Memories are private, not for anyone to know every detail of." She thought over why he wasn't at war at the moment, and taking a break here but let the thought fade with other curiousities.
-
<I don't know why anyone would be voluntary. You would have to ask one of them. Personally I'd take my blade to my own throat if the thought ever crossed my mind that being a servant would be better than my current life.> Claxter said.
-
The breeze ruffling the flower, caused the flower to brush against the point of her ear and she trembled slightly as her ear was sensitive. She held his hand in both of hers and when he spoke if always staying by her she looked up at him with bright eyes. No one, not even her people, had shown this kind of tenderness to her. Then he called her something she never thought anyone would.....his love. Love? Could that be what she felt? Why her heart flipped when she looked in his eyes, why cadyanas filled her stomach when he touched her? She smiled up at him, her eyes bright with hope and tears threatening to spill.
-
Mar mulls over this thought and suddenly gets a bit of a grin. There were two things clear about what was happening. One: Salem's name was Tobias and he was more than what he appeared to be. Two: This Rathien fellow could follow Tobias through the multiverse at will. Otherwise, how could he be chasing the trader? The second point was what really interested Mar. If that was true....
"Mmmm.....what if I could offer you a target that an entire Empire's military hasn't been able to track down?" states Mar, folding his arms behind his back. "Granted the target's location is...not in a typical universe, but I can give you the means to get there. Assuming that you can travel between such things yourself. You seem ready to relax in this temporal dive for the moment, but it's just an offer. I may be weak here, but..."
Mar chuckles, half to himself and half to Rathien. "....that isn't true in a few other places."
-
Lucan looked down at Jade and into her gorgeous Lupymd eyes that were bright with emotion and what looked like tears. He assumed that they were tears of joy though because of the smile that was on her face. He felt her hold his hand in both of hers and the close proximity they were in was affecting him. Lucan realized that at that moment no more words were needed because he realized that he had said enough. He had no intention of calling her 'My love', but it had seemed so natural that he said it automatically. From the way that Jade was holding his hand and smiling with tears of joy shining in her eyes she had discovered her feelings for him and she felt the same.
As he stared at her with his bright green eyes and the golden pupil sparkled within, Lucan smiled. He took his free hand and gently caressed Jades cheek, the warmth of her skin again was a contrast to the chill of his, but he marveled in it. He then leaned forward until their foreheads met and softly whispered in a voice that carried much emotion and seemed to come from deep within his heart.
"Jade, E muja oui."
-
Ewa nodded as Vogefac sat down, but also gave him a bit of a puzzled look. Not quite the manners I would have expected. He's certainly not supposed to be pretending to be human though. "Are you just looking for some company, or....?" She let the rest of the question trail off expectantly.
After a moment she turned her attention back to Keshin. "Mmm, well, all of my previous dealings--legal or otherwise--have ranged farther afield than most people here come from. At least most people that I've met thus far. Puts me at a large disadvantage for the moment, since I really don't understand how," she paused as if carefully choosing a word, "transactions generally take place around here."
With a couple fingers, Ewa traced out random patterns on the tabletop--just to give one of her hands something to do. She was tempted to order a drink just so she'd have it as a conversational prop, but that had ended up leading to some questionable judgement not all that long ago.
"It seems strange to me that you'd be against going after anyone with allies here. I mean, of course you have to be sensitive to the social and political powers you'd be interfering with--and there are probably some people who'd have to be worth your life to go after--but..." Ewa half smiled and raised her eyebrows. "Who else would anyone want you to kill?"
-
Salem laughed, "Thienal's problem is his own. If he's going to insist on shooting at me rather than talking at every opportunity, he can't expect me to be too terribly sympathetic about where he gets dragged to, can he? As for the rest," he looked at Mar and shrugged, "I saw no reason to divulge. Nobody's asked."
He listened with interest as Mar spoke to Rathien. It was interesting to see how the being dealt with others- he was starting to get a better idea of his way of 'negotiating.' There were definitely a lot of things about Mar that he didn't understand- higher motives, for example- but he felt he could begin to predict this... particular incarnation of the being, given enough time.
He raised his eyebrows at Al and nodded at the bar. Without another word, the two of them began to stroll in the direction of the door. Salem changed his direction slightly in an attempt to position himself more-or-less behind Rathien, and Al followed.
-
Jade knew exactly what he said. Her eyes gave a glitter and she looked into his eyes. "Han ku kuulua sivamet, Lucan." she said and turned her head slightly to kiss the palm of his hand. She lifted a hand and traced a gentle finger down the silver lin. She felt sad that they wouldn't be able to see their people again, but when she thought about being with him, she knew she could be happy again.
-
Parker could see her difficulty in smiling. She was trying to be strong for him. She must be thinking herself some sort of burden, or weight, dragging him down. Parker slightly tilted his head and asked, "You know that I don't think of you as that, weak, I mean. In so many instances where you were fatigued, or exhausted, instead of allowing others to fight for you, or lying down while others risked themselves, you jumped in and continued to aid them. You fought along side myself and your family bravely and with the greatest strength of will I've seen in a long time. I don't ever want you thinking that you're a burden to me; or that you're weighing me down. I can lift 3 tons no problem, you'd never be able to weigh me down."
He lifted her up with his arm and swept her legs up with his free arm, holding her gently in his arms as he walked, "See? Light as a feather." He smiled behind his helmet, inflecting his voice slightly.
-
Lucan smiled as she spoke to him in her language and knew what she said. Neither needed a translator because both understood what the other was saying perfectly. In each of their languages they were professing their love for each other and both knew that they would be happy again. Lucan watched as Jade kissed the palm of his hand that was carressing her cheek and then extended a hand to trace his Pyhecrsahd which increased the chill in his skin. His skin was now as cold as a breeze off the Glacier Lands, but was not uncomfortably cold.
Lucan decided to ask Jade something that he desired very much at that point. "Jade Tear On Stone, I would be honored if you would accept the Nuca flower in the custom of marriage. Do you accept, my Love?" Lucan whispered with hope and love resonating in his tone.
-
Silver gave a soft gasp at how easily he had read her fear. She gave an embarrassed look then face a slight yelp when he picked her up and said it was fine. She looked athim for a moment then laid her had on his shoulder wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
Jade looked up into his eyes shock in her eyes and a soft blush on her face. "I...." She smiled, those tears of joy spilled over as she whispered softly. "Yes...I do..."
-
"Yes...I do..." Those were the words spoken by Jade that sparked the smile that spread across his face. He looked at her face as she was at first shocked and even blushed, but then smiled and her tears of joy let loose down her face. Lucan leaned down slightly and gently pressed his cool lips against Jade's lips.
-
Her breath caught softly as he leaned in and met her lips with his. She loved how his skin was cooler than hers. She kissed him back, closing her eyes. Her heart fluttered as if full of cadyanas and she knew she had made the right decision.
-
Lucan saw and felt Jade kiss him back and at that moment he knew that they were meant for each other. He closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly to the right and brought a hand to the back of her head. He gently applied a little pressure and kissed Jade with a bit more passion as his spots flared to a bright pink.
-
Jade wrapped her arms his neck. She let all she felt for Lucan flow into that kiss. She made a silent promise then and there that she would always make sure that she would do everything in her power to ensure that sadness never darkened his eyes again.
-
Lucan felt Jades arms wrap around his neck and it seemed she poured all of her love and devotion into the kiss. Lucan wanted to do the same and proceeded to apply a bit more pressure to the back of her head and wrapped his other arm around the middle of her back. He pulled them closer together and intensified the kiss by opening his lips slightly.
-
She felt him pull her closer, she could have sworn she felt the same "hum" in her body as she did when using her magick. It was curious but all she could focus on was Lucan. She felt his lips part slightly, following his example, so did hers. She noticed if he pulled her any closer she would be sitting on his lap.
-
Lucan felt Jades lips part under his and could not resist her sweet nature. He gently pulled her up so she could sit on his lap and hugged her tight to him. His mouth opened a little wider and he cautiously extended his tongue to gently caress her lips.
-
She felt his tongue against her lips and she trembled slightly. A little timidly she softly let her tongue wander. She found she liked his taste. She wasnt used to sitting on someones lap. It was odd but she had seen humans do so. He didnt seem to mind and it caused a smile.
-
Lucan felt Jades tongue against his and it sent a thrill through him which caused the temperature of his skin to drop once more. Afraid of making her uncomfortable with his cold skin he gently broke their kiss and pulled her closer. Lucan sat on the rock staring out at the water with Jade in his lap and holding her so her head was resting on his shoulder. He did not say a word for he knew that there were none that could truly signify how special this moment was for the both of them.
-
<Well,> Corliss says contemplatively, <hopefully there will be more than just me and Mike to remind you of your humanity, before too long.> He hesitates. Slowly he swims forward and once more touches his soft body against hers, their palps so close they could be intertwined. <Terenia, I want you to see why I joined this cause.>
Memories, shockingly vivid, some in strange colors and some in no color or true sight at all, pour into Terenia's mind.
"Really?" Mike asks, much more harshly than Corliss would have done. "And do you reckon the Empire would continue to turn a blind eye if it knew just how much you care about your host? As more than just a puppet to treat nicely so it behaves? What is it called...oh yeah, like a mate? You know, a friend?" He turns back to his beer, disgusted, but his awareness of the Sub-Visser's volatile state slowly forces his hand onto the butt of his holstered Dracon.
-
Terenia reels, shocked by the sudden onslaught of information. She does not break contact with Corliss, eager to see why he decided to risk his life by defecting from the Empire. The experience is overwhelming, though. Not entirely unlike reading a host's mind, but at the same time completely different because she has no control over these memories. Corliss is the driver and she can only observe. It sends a stab of terror through her.
Zorish blinks, pushing his glass away. His expression, which had slowly been descending into anger, slowly deflates, leaving behind only sadness.
"The Empire will turn a blind eye as long as I am useful enough not to eliminate," he says, and clears his throat. The words sound false, even to him. "Unless someone actually directly accuses me of sympathizing with my host there will be no trial."
<<Zorish,>> Tamora demands, sounding petulant now. She doesn't have quite the level of ferocity as her sister, but she is tenacious in her own way.
<<You are making this difficult,>> Zorish complains, eyes tracking as he talks to her.
<<It's not like I can run away,>> his host points out. <<What more will it hurt? You've already told him pretty much everything.>>
<<Yes, it appears that I have,>> Zorish hiccups, starting slightly. <<Some Sub-Visser I am turning out to be, eh?>>
<<Please.>>
Zorish clears his throat again, looking distinctly uncomfortable with the words that are about to come out of his mouth. His nose wrinkles automatically in distaste at the idea. "My, uh," he coughs. "My host wishes to - to speak with you." He turns his gaze away, heat rising in his face. He senses that the words themselves are a terrible betrayal, and that makes him uneasy.
-
Vogefac looked at Ewa, "I do not know. Actually...I just came from a conversation with friends that somehow ended up in my being left behind in the Bar..."
He looked out the door, but could not see Artemis and Parker.
He hmphed, "I have never been dismissed in a manner like that since my first day at the Military academy as a child..."
"My apologies for the intrusion, I will leave you know.", with that Vogefac rose and headed outside.
"Well - " Catie started and then he left.
"...well that was odd...", she turned to Ewa with a puzzled look.
-
Corliss gently lets go of Terenia, exhausted from the sheer mental and emotional onslaught.
<I'm sorry,> he murmurs hastily. Then he turns and swims off.
Mike raises his black eyebrows, eyes wide. "What, really?" he asks, skeptical. "Tamora wants to talk to me?" He snorts. "I know as well as you that you could just be acting."
-
Terenia does not respond at first, still trying to sort out the slew of images and sensations that have suddenly been dumped into her brain.
<What do you mean, you're sorry?> she finally asks, her thought-speak voice shaken. <I...Corliss...> For maybe the first time in years her words are thick with sympathy. She lets out a small burst of echolocation and finds him, swimming close again. <You didn't have to show me all of that,> she says quietly.
"And what purpose would I have for such a folly?" Zorish snaps, his lip curling in revulsion. "What could I possibly gain from sitting here and pretending to be her? It's hardly going to change your opinion of me, human. It's hardly going to convince you to share more information."
-
<That's why I'm sorry,> Corliss says flatly. <I don't know what I was thinking. I've...never exactly done that before. Ever.> He laughs bitterly. <And as you could tell, there's good reason.>
Mike inspects the Sub-Visser for a long moment, regarding Tamora's flushed and pretty obviously drunk demeanor.
What would Corliss do in this situation? he thinks. You've got a drunk Imperial officer and his host, willing to spill...well, the proverbial beans, or whatever!
He clears his throat. "All right, then," he says, his left hand relaxing away from his holster and going to his beer. "Let's have a chat, Tamora."
-
<No,> Terenia says slowly. <You didn't have to show me, but...I'm glad you did.> She brushes against him tentatively, trying to reassure him. <None of us have exactly had a good time of it in this war, have we?> she asks wryly. One of her palps entwines with his. <Thank you.>
Zorish hesitates, resisting the urge to stand up and stalk out. I probably wouldn't be able to walk straight anyways, he thinks inanely.
<<Do not make a fool of me, Tamora,>> Zorish warns. Tamora says nothing, but Zorish can sense her nervousness. With a heavy sigh, Zorish voluntarily relinquishes control of his host for the first time ever.
Immediately, Tamora grips the bar counter, almost keeling off of the stool. In addition to the sudden, unfamiliar rush of control she can now feel the full effects of the alcohol, most of which Zorish had been trying to keep at bay. She gasps for breath, adrenaline pumping into her system as she tries to make sense of the spinning room around her.
"Oh..." she murmurs, licking her lips a few times before croaking, "Water..."
-
Corliss gently presses back against Terenia's body with his own. <You're welcome,> he says, sounding a bit surprised.
Mike taps on the bar counter. "Barkeep, a big jug of water, please." He hastily adds, "Clean, you know. And two glasses."
He turns to Tamora. "Are you going to make it?" he says with a little laugh, finding it awfully difficult to remind himself that this was Terenia's sister, not Terenia herself.
-
Derrel wathed as Tamora seemed to have difficulty getting herself under control. It made him wonder if that was a usual effect of being a host. Then again, he hadn't noticed Serid or Mike stumble around when a Yeerk wasn't controlling them. <<I guess it all depends on how much practice you get from time to time.>> He thought idly.
-
Terenia finds her spirits lifting, despite the fact that the memories are still sitting heavily in her mind. <You aren't going to suddenly change your mind about this when I cease to be slimy, are you?> she asks teasingly, hoping to cheer him up as well.
"Y-yeah," Tamora croaks, steadying herself. She blinks a few times, pulling her world back into focus. "Wow," she mutters, exhaling slowly. "I didn't think he would actually do it."
The bartender comes over with the jug of water and two glasses, which he reluctantly fills.Tamora immediately snatches one and tips it back, drinking deeply.
-
<I don't know, slime is number one on my list of attraction factors,> Corliss replies wryly. <I think we both know how Mike feels about you. Surely he won't object.>
"Drink up, Zorish has been trying to drink you under a bloody table," Mike says, still smiling easily.
-
<No, I'm sure he won't,> Terenia says slowly. <I'm sure he'll be quite pleased. It would be a bit difficult for him to have a...a, uh...relationship,> she cringes slightly at the word, <with an unhosted Yeerk.>
Tamora finishes the glass and immediately pours a second, almost dropping the jar as she manipulates it with hands that are used to following the orders of another. She nearly empties this second glass before finally setting it down and sighing.
"That's...a little better," she says, giving Mike a slightly sheepish grin. "Zorish didn't mean to. He just...was frustrated and-"
<<Mind what you say, Tamora,>> Zorish pipes up. Tamora licks her lips. "Anyways," she murmurs. "Um. Hi." Now that she has the control that she begged so earnestly for she isn't exactly sure where to begin. It has been a long time since she engaged in casual conversation with anyone besides the Yeerk in her head.
-
<Now there's an odd mental image,> Corliss jokes. He hesitates for a moment. <Terenia, can I ask you something personal? About your family?>
"Hi," says Mike, leaning on his left arm and sipping beer with his free hand. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"
-
Terenia takes a second to deliberate before answering. She isn't particularly eager to talk about her family, especially considering recent events. But Corliss had shared his experiences with her.
<Yeah,> she says reluctantly. <What do you want to know?>
"Yeah, um," Tamora says, taking a deep breath and playing with the ends of her hair. She shifts nervously before her thoughts come out in a tumble. "I just...look, I know you probably don't understand. Or maybe you do. But, Zorish isn't a bad person. And he isn't a coward. He's doing what he can to protect me because he doesn't want to see me hurt again. He's the only person who has ever kept their promises to me; the only reason he even came here was to see if there was some way he could prevent my supposed death or whatever that stupid message was about. He's trying to protect me." The way she speaks about the Yeerk indicates more than friendship, more than admiration. She talks about Zorish the way someone might talk about their lover. With complete and total trust and confidence.
"He wouldn't stay in the Empire if it weren't what was best for me," she goes on, almost pleading with Mike to understand. Several times Zorish almost comes forward and takes control again, but he holds himself back.
-
<<That, or how much they've had to drink,>> Illim smirks internally as he watches Tamora through Derrel's eyes. He takes over his host's lungs long enough to heave a sigh. <<So ready to get out of here. Wonder if Myitt and Tora are telling Reven to rescind my invitation...>> he murmurs, itching to give Myitt a call to find out. Considering how annoyed with him she already appeared to be, though, Illim holds off.
Serid reaches the Bar doors and enters, surveying the crowd before walking towards an empty booth on the other side of the room from Illim. He gives his former Yeerk a nod of acknowledgement.
-
<<Yeah, it could just be that.>> Derrel said. <<I'm ready to leave too, but you know corliss isn't going to leave Terenia here alone. The base probably won't just send the info to your ship for us to leave without them, so we're stuck here. I wouldn't mention it too much because Corliss already wants to leave as soon as Yeerkly possible.>>
Derrel nodded back to Serid, kind of hoping he'd come over and talk but not wanting to go to him since he didn't.
-
<Why did you run away from your home?> Corliss asks gently. <I know you've hinted at pieces of it, but I can't imagine what sort of family would drive you away.>
Mike watches Tamora confess her feelings for the Sub-Visser in her head with wide-eyed surprise. He'd never heard anyone outside of the rebellion, except perhaps for that turelek's host, talk about a Yeerk with such...
Adoration? he wonders internally. Hell, she's gushing like a bloody school girl. I reckon he's really letting her do it, too.
He shakes himself out of his funk and clears his throat. "Hey, listen, I believe you," he says earnestly. "Of course Zorish wants what's best for you, you're sort of in this whole thing together, aren't you? But Tamora, what I just don't get is why he's keeping you in the Empire when everything he does is going to destroy your bloody planet? Isn't that, in the long run, far worse than a few scraped meals? We're not all that bad off, in the rebellion, you know. We haven't survived this long by being in total abject misery."
Not that you'd be able to join us in a million years, his darker conscience adds.
-
Terenia is quiet for a few moments. She pulls away from Corliss, breaking physical contact.
<My dad was in the military,> she says at last, in flat, removed thought-speak voice. <Up until I was about eight years old we lived in Minnesota and he was gone overseas a lot. It was okay then. My mom had her hands full, with my brother and sister and me, but we managed.>
She sighs, drifting uncomfortably. Suddenly the pool liquid feels cold around her. <Then my dad got transferred to a base in California. At first it was great. We got to see him and didn't have to worry that he was going to be dragged off again at a moments notice. But, well, then we stopped seeing him quite so often. And when we did, he'd always have a beer bottle in his hand or be rushing off to play poker with his Marine friends.> The disgust in her voice is practically tangible. <The night I ran away my mom was trying to stop him from going off. She told him that he had a responsibility to his family. To us. He hit her across the head with a glass beer bottle and knocked her unconscious.>
She pauses, allowing the story to sink in for a minute. <I left to get help. I left because I was scared and Danny wasn't home and Tammy was crying and I didn't know what to do, I just knew I couldn't stay another minute. So I promised Tammy that I'd go get help. Only, I got lost and...> she laughs harshly. <Well, I didn't have to worry about returning home, at least, after that.>
Tamora looks surprised. "Why would I care about the planet being destroyed?" she asks. "Nothing good ever came from it. All we humans do is destroy one another over stupid things that don't even matter. And break promises. And use one another. I don't want to have anything to do with that place." She wraps her arms around herself, looking at the bar counter miserably.
-
It's Corliss' turn to be silent, mulling over the story that kicked off Terenia's trauma.
<I'm sorry,> he says finally, lowering his palps. <None of you deserved to go through that. If you could...change things, make it so that you were never found by the Andalite military...would you?>
Mike stares at Tamora like she must be insane. "Yeah, but did you ever reckon the other six billion people who want a lot to do with that place? Six billion people who will be dead or enslaved, if the Empire wins? Not to mention all of the bloody ecology and whatever?" he demands, trying not to let too much of his incredulity come out in his tone. "Tamora, the Empire will destroy everything we have. Isn't it better to let us destroy ourselves, or save ourselves, or whatever will happen because we aren't afraid to be in control of our lives?"
-
<Of course I wouldn't,> Terenia sneers. <I just traded one hell for another, but at least this has some sort of purpose. On Earth it was...just abuse for the sake of abuse. I had no control over anything. I could have stayed on the Andalite Homeworld when I got there, though. I could have maybe even been happy there. I chose to enter this war. If I had to decide between the hell I was born into and the hell I chose? I'll take this one, thanks.>
She hesitates, then adds. <Of course, if you asked me that before I came to this damned place I may have said differently. It seems that...that meeting you has put a bit of a new spin on things.>
Tamora shrugs, her eyes glistening with the beginnings of tears. "Who says we deserve to destroy or save ourselves?" she asks thickly. She looks up at him, biting her lip to keep from sobbing. "I'm not a politician or...or an environmentalist or anything. I just know that I'm trying to get through this war alive and I don't want to be taken away from Zorish. If the Empire loses, if Earth wins, then we'll be separated. I can't lose another person that I love."
Zorish watches Tamora with some mix of disgust, sympathy and curiosity. He does not take over, though. The act of letting Tamora express herself outwardly is strangely pleasing to him.
-
Corliss is silent for a moment. <I'm glad to have met you, Terenia,> he says finally.
"How can you know that?" Mike demands. "Do you reckon I want to lose my closest friends? If the Empire loses, life will be better for the bloody planet and if the rebellion can help it, better for Yeerks as well!"
-
<You are?> Terenia sounds utterly disbelieving. <All I've done is make your life more complicated. I mean...I'm glad I met you too, but wouldn't things have been so much simpler for you if I hadn't come to this stupid rock?> She laughs flatly. <And now you're going to be dragging me back to your base where I'll just mess things up even more and...> she trails off, sensing that she is rambling.
<I just don't want to end up hurting you,> she concludes lamely.
Tamora flinches away from Mike's anger, blanching. "I don't know," she whispers, blinking away a few tears. "I just want things to stop being so hard. I want to be safe and I want to be with Zorish. That's all."
Zorish decides that he has heard enough and gently, but firmly retakes control. He sniffles, brushing the salt water tracks off of his host's cheeks. "You humans," he says quietly. "I don't think I will ever fully understand your species, no matter how many hosts I take. She truly thinks that she is in love with me." He laughs hollowly. "The foolish girl."
-
<I can't say whether you'll hurt us or not,> Corliss protests. <All I know is Mike and I? We're willing to take the chance.>
Mike watches Tamora's eyes as Zorish reassumes control. He swallows hard.
"She cares about you more than anyone who's stolen her life away has a right to be cared about," he says coldly. "You might call her foolish, but she's made your life awfully easy, hasn't she? And you call her a fool. You're the only creature who's said a kind word to her in, what, her entire life? You created this, Zorish, and you're a bloody fool yourself if you take her for granted."
-
<Then you and Mike are idiots,> Terenia says matter-of-factly. <I'm not complaining, but honestly the last thing I deserve is...this. You. Either of you.>
Zorish stares straight ahead, examining the wall of liquor bottles in front of him. When he responds his voice is carefully level. "I have stolen nothing from her," he says. "Unless you count a broken home and a lying family. I have saved her. I took her out of that vile cesspool of false love and allowed her to move on with her life." He licks his lips, aware of the fact that his voice is shaking slightly. Must be the alcohol, he dismisses, turning to face Mike. Tamora's sadness and fear is completely gone now that Zorish has resumed control. In its place is the cold, deadly expression of a Sub-Visser.
"Don't you dare imply that I take Tamora for granted, human," Zorish says lowly. "I have kept all of the promises I made her. That is more than anyone else in this galaxy can say."
-
<Oh, yes?> Corliss replies coyly. <And what if I disagree? Hm? What if I believe your luck is going to change? Terenia, I know what it's like to be torn from everything you've ever known. To be forced into a war.> He laughs harshly. <Even to kill your own sibling. Your own people. I know from experience that the last thing you should do is convince yourself that you deserve the misfortunes in your life.>
"And you reckon you can live out your life with her, in some happy post-war Imperial paradise?" Mike asks, incredulous. "That is, of course, until it's determined just how much of Tamora's feelings for you are mutual. Or are you still trying to convince yourself otherwise?" He scoffs, but his voice loses its bite. "No, mate, I know where your plan to keep Tamora safe and alive is leading you, and I'm sorry to say it doesn't have a happy ending."
-
<What if I do?> Terenia asks stubbornly. <What if I'm just doomed to hurt everyone I care about? You know as well as I do what the others here at the bar think of me. I'm selfish, only out to please myself. Maybe they're right and I don't even realize it. Maybe my luck won't change and you'll end up dead too.>
Zorish's throat works as he struggles to come up with a cogent response. To buy time, he pours himself another glass of water and sips on it slowly.
"And in your ideal little world, what happens?" Zorish asks. "I run off to join your little band of terrorists and take up arms against everything I know? Against my own people?" He laughs coldly. "And for what? To lose everything that I have worked for since I was a grub? So that Tamora can be around people who approve of the way we...the way I-," he stutters, then finds his voice again, "the way she feels for me? We have survived nearly eight years without issue. I do not see why that must end with the war."
-
<Maybe I will,> Corliss replies, his somber tone giving way to a bit of his humor. <Then again, maybe I won't end up dead because of you. I believe this war is likely to catch up to me long before you do.> He maneuvers his body to face hers more fully. <Anyway, I don't care. I'd rather take the risk.> He laughs. <Maybe I really have lost my mind.>
"No, I don't reckon there's a bloody snowball's chance in hell that you'll be allowed to join us," Mike says matter-of-factly. "What I'm telling you is that we intend to win the war, or at the very least prevent the Empire from taking Earth. What do you reckon will happen if Earth wins out? Would you rather be around people who won't force you to hide what you feel? Zorish, what if the Empire does win, and you're forced to take another host, have you ever thought about that?"
-
<I really think you have,> Terenia says, but there is a smile in her tone over the self-deprecation. <I suppose I'm not going to change it, though, am I?>
Zorish presses his lips together, hugging Tamora's arms in an imitation of her earlier position, as though he can physically cling to her. "I won't lose her," he says matter-of-factly. "That is unacceptable." The laugh that squeezes out of his lungs is forced. "You are telling me, essentially, that I have zero choice. That I cannot leave the Empire, even if I wanted to, and that staying in the Empire will eventually force our separation." He eyes Mike warily.
"You are a cruel human," he decides. "You understand these emotions far better than I ever could. These human emotions that no Yeerk is meant to have. And you are using that knowledge to provoke me. For what purpose? What do you hope to gain out of this conversation, beyond convincing me that everything I've worked for is foolish and that this...affection... I feel for Tamora is more than mere sympathy?"
-
<Nope,> Corliss replies, scrunching forward and brushing himself along her back, before curling back up to face her. <Not a chance.> His ultrasonic chirps are, in their own way, coy and a little embarrassed, but not at all ashamed.
"That's all I hope to convince you of," Mike replies, his smugness replaced by the beginnings of guilt. "As long as you quit fooling yourself, that's a step in the right direction. We're trying to create a place where Yeerks and humans can forge a peace, and if it's got to start between one human and one Yeerk, why hide it? That's what we're on about, Zorish. The Empire is just keeping you alive, keeping you under a false sense of security, while it takes away your ability to be yourselves."
He sighs and pushes back his empty beer glass. "Look, mate, I know what it's like to feel ostracized for what you believe in," says Mike quietly. "But who knows what kind of future we can create, if more of us work towards the same goals? Even Corliss was in the Empire, for ages and ages, and it wasn't easy for him to leave his life behind. Perhaps...if one side or the other doesn't **** things up...perhaps we can create a solution where you can stay with Tamora and all me mates can have a decent life, too. A peaceful bloody life, better than all this rot. But it's not going to work if we keep drawing lines between each other." He cools a little, realizing the couple of beers might be loosening his tongue a bit more than he'd like.
"Maybe you can still survive, in your own version of things," he adds sullenly.
-
With Silver resting comfortably in his arms, Parker smiled behind his helmet and could hear what Thor would've said, had he been still in his suit. His eyes widened, remembering that he was still in the Cursed Pride. He asked Silver, "Do you mind if I pick Thor up first? No doubt he's figured out that I'm here. I don't want to leave him in that ship for too long."
-
If Terenia had lips, she would certainly be smiling. As it was she merely brushed her palps along his skin, finding a strange sort of intimacy in their closeness that she had never expected to feel in Yeerk form.
<Okay,> she says. <Yeah. Alright. Then...I guess I'll stop trying.> She sighs a little, but it is a happy sigh.
Zorish's eyes darken, his brows drawing together. "Very well, human," he says coldly. "I admit to entertaining feelings beyond mere sympathy for Tamora. I care for her deeply. I may...I may even love her, if such a thing is possible." He blinks, his expression blanching slightly as his alcohol-sodden brain catches up to his mouth a few seconds too late.
<<You do?>> Tamora asks, and Zorish must fight to keep her giddiness from affecting him. He ignores his host, standing abruptly with the intent of leaving before he can incriminate himself further. Unfortunately, as soon as he gets to his feet he sways, the alcohol still deeply infecting Tamora's functions. Heavily, he sits back down on the stool.
"Dapsen," he hisses, not sure if he is cursing himself or Tamora or Mike. Perhaps all three.
-
<Good,> Corliss replies affectionately, returning the gesture with his own palps. <I never realized I could care about someone like this, you know. I quite like it actually.>
Mike is so shocked, in spite of his prodding, that for a moment he's at a loss for words. He collects his dropped jaw with an audible click of teeth.
"Blimey," he mutters, watching the inebriated Controller. "No wonder she was so upset over losing you. The feeling really is mutual." He clears his throat. "Zorish, you know that what your feeling is not a crime, don't you?"
-
<Yeah,> Terenia agrees, falling into a contented silence for a few minutes. She thinks back to the kiss that they shared, moments before her life jettisoned down yet another downward spiral, and smiles inwardly. <You aren't going to start searching out a third, are you?> she asks teasingly. <I'm not into the whole fusion thing, just so you know. I like my body to remain intact.>
"It's a death sentence," Zorish hisses from behind a clenched jaw. He props his elbows up on the table, burying his head in his hands, ignoring the curious prods from Tamora's consciousness. "Death by Kandrona starvation, no less," he adds, looking up long enough to glare at Mike with such ferocity that for a moment he resembles Terenia much more closely than Tamora.
-
Derrel watched as Zorish got up suddenly, then slumped back down. she was glaring at Mike now. <<You think I should break that up before it gets worse?>> He asked Illim. She hadn't gone for her weapon yet, which was good.
-
<What?> Corliss yelps, curling his palps back. <No, no, of course not. I-I quite like living, thanks.>
"A death sentence to the Empire," Mike insists, placing his hands on the scuffed bar counter. "Not to decent and rational people."
-
A shuttle appears in orbit above the small planetoid. It appears like a small bloated arrowhead passing through the center of a circle. The lone pilot looks around and begins typing into his navigation computer madly. He asks aloud, "Where the hell are we?" Suddenly a dome behind his ****pit spins in half-rotations, switching directions almost randomly. A series of beeps and whirs sound. The pilot says, seemingly as though responding, "What do you mean you don't know? What happened? Those coordinates I gave you were good. I've used them tons of times." Another round of clicks and beeps sound.
"What are you talking about, a gravity well? There's no way there could've been a gravity well anywhere on that path. No stars were going to pass through that pathway for another millenium. The nearest star had already passed. A gravity well is literally an impossibility." More beeps and clicks follow.
"Well the nav computer is wro-. Wait a minute, go through the log, what system did we pass through just before we were forced from Hyperspace?" A long moment of silence passes before he hears a "response". He slams his head back against his seat.
"That space was taken by the Mandalorians. They must've set up an Interdiction Field. Dammit. Well back to my first question, what do you mean you don't know where we are? If we exited near Serroco, we should definitely know where we are." A few whirs sound, followed by a haunting whine.
"No no, the Interdiction Field should've only forced us out of Hyperspace, near the planet, not sent us out of known space. This little planetoid doesn't look a thing like Serroco, it looks more like an asteroid." He looks at his scanners, "Except this asteroid has life on it." More data scales the screen, "A lot of life. There's forestry and bodies of water, I've never seen any planet that small sustain life. I'm also picking up readings of artificial energy sources. I think there are ships down there." He's answered by more beeps followed by the haunted whine again.
"Don't worry about it, I'm sure it'll be fine. I don't think we're in Mandalorian Space, and I highly doubt any Mandalorian would even consider occupying this... whatever it is. I'm going to check it out." He disconnects the arrowhead ship from the circle it penetrated and descended towards the planetoid.
The pilot found the source of the multiple energy sources. Indeed they were ships, ships of different sizes and designs. None of the ships he saw before him looked to be of Mandalorian design, nor any design he's seen. Most of them looked like insects or arachnids, others were just otherwise oddly shaped. He landed his ship amongst the other "parked" ships. His canopy slid open and he popped his head out. There was a dingy building in desperate need of repair before him. He looked around the parking lot and found no one was around. He shrugged and got out of the ****pit. He replaced the hood of his robe over his head as more beeps and clicks sounded.
"I'm just going to see where we are." The same haunted whirring echoes. The pilot shook his head comically and jumped onto the ground. He closed his robe around him and made for the building. His light brown robe covered his entire body, all the way down to his feet. The edges just missing the ground by decimeters. He walked through the front door and was amazed at the sight before him. It was a cantina, not unlike many he's seen in spaceports, except it was made of wood. This must be one hell of a well guarded secret for the Republic to not know about it. Even though his hood's shape covered his facial features, he could see outward just fine. He saw many humans around, as well as a few unknown species. He did see one "alien" he thought he recognized as akin to a Trandoshan, though there were many differences there as well. Not the least being its knees went the wrong way. He went up to the bar, sitting next to a couple. The girl seemed drunk off her ass and pissed at her boyfriend. Though their troubles weren't his, so he let them be.
He nodded to the bartender and asked, "You wouldn't happen to have any Tarisian Ale, would you?" The bartender looked at the newcomer stoically and left into the back room without a word. The pilot threw his head back in surprise. He was about to repeat his order loudly, but the bartender came back with his order. His eyes lit up and smiled. The bartender held out a pad with three words. The new patron thought a moment and said, "Tab." The bartender replaced his pad and went back to drying a mug the pilot could tell didn't actually need drying. He mentally shrugged began to drink the ale carefully to keep his hood in place.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin sighs internally, still not showing any real vexedness. <Troubling to say the least.> He glances at Efaen again, returning his hoof to drink a bit more from the lake. <If I may ask Efaen, what is your age?> He displays little by way of his features, but curiosity runs through his mind. He thinks Efaen younger than himself, but he generally feels that way about all of his commands even when they are twice his age. Not a matter of rationality, merely a mindset. It was possible she was of an age with him...if she was, they may have been in Academy at the same time.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __
~Rathien~
Rathien raises an eyebrow at Mar. So far as he knew, Tobias was the only being capable of inter-dimensional travel, and he wouldn't have even believed that much were it not for his conversations with Thienal. The being called Mar apparently thought Rathien's abilities exceeded the truth, he had no reason to disabuse him of the notion. "You intrigue me, one known as Mar." He bares his fangs in a grin as he watches Tobias begin to drop back next to his android. He falls back with him without appearing to change stride or step.
He grins over at Tobias again before looking back at Mar. "Go on, one known as Mar."
-
For whatever reason, perhaps all of the compounded stress and uncertainty of these new emotions, Terenia finds Corliss' reaction hilarious. She laughs openly in thought-speak; perhaps the first true laugh that she has had in years.
<I'm joking, Corliss,> she assures him, still giggling a little giddily. <Although it's good to know. I wouldn't want to be with anyone who was ready to keel over and...um...disinteg rate.>
"The Empire that is my home," Zorish says hotly. "The Empire that you have so graciously reminded me I have no way out of, even if I wanted to turn my back on them."
<Four,> Efaen says, giving the Andalite equivalent of a young-adult. What to a human may be someone in their late twenties or early thirties. She cautiously turns her stalk eyes away from the path that Serid had taken and resumes scanning the area for any danger. She also dips her hoof back in the lake to drink, although she is no longer thirsty.
-
Keshin laughs slightly at Ewa's well thought out comment, twirling a strand of Joanne's hair. "That's true, isn't it? I really can't attack anyone that has no ally at all. I guess what I really mean is that we won't attack people with too many allies. The last bounty we tried to execute in here blew up in our face because the person I attacked had a lot of unexpected friends. Now all we've got is a deal from a rebel that we can't even verify. Who knows if he'll follow through..."
<We're really pretty screwed, aren't we?>
<Yeah. Maybe Ewa has some idea. We also need to contact Corliss and confirm the Peace Movement is going to go through with it. We're not really the best of friends.>
Keshin shrugs amiably and says, "Have any jobs for a couple of freelance hunters?"
****************************************************************************************
Mar keeps his eyes trained on Rathien, continuing to walk forward. He wasn't sure if what he wanted would work: he certainly didn't think Rathien could actually kill the person he wanted to train the bounty hunter on. Nothing he'd tried previously had worked, and he'd tried everything. Really, he was more curious about exactly how dangerous the bounty hunter was and whether he could use that to his advantage. There were jobs Mar accumulated that required the services of such...people. This was a decent way to start.
"A person called...Crimson has been causing me a great deal of trouble lately," said Mar with a bit of a smile. "He's not an immortal, but he appears to be very difficult to kill. Many bounty hunters have tried and failed, and so have many soldiers. Even if you aren't planning to leave any time soon, I can at least give you the way into...the universe I come from. I think having such a strange creature in my domain would be fun."
That was mostly true, except for the part about Mar being "from" anywhere.
-
Corliss laughs hesitantly, then finds himself chirruping laughter like an eager grub.
<Good,> he says between pleasant clicks, <I intend for that eventuality to occur a very, very long time from now.>
Mike shrugs. "You know, if you wouldn't spend so much time working for a government that intends to destroy us, maybe the rebellion would actually give you a chance. Sort of a Catch-22, as it were, I know. Unless you were able to prove yourselves to us. Undergo a memory dump, quarantine, all that rot. Almost all of us who are of the slimy variety came from the Empire at one point or another."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin raises his eyebrows a tad at Efaen's comment. She was near his age after all...possibly even a bit older depending upon when she was born in the cycle.
<As am I.> True though he isn't terribly far into his fourth cycle. <We may have been in Academy at the same time...unless....> He pauses a moment, taking the time to prepare his phrasing with care. <When...and how did Terenia...remove you from your duties?> He raises his main eyes questioningly at the female.
-
Candice seemed to be in deep thought, so Claxter began to wander a bit to eat and help himself finish drip drying. He thought about joining Ossanlin and Efaen, but decided against it since he hadn't been invited when he was sure they had seen them.
So what to do now? He considered trying to spy on Corliss and Terenia, but wasn't sure he could sneak aboard the Skimmer. He had gotten into Terenia's ship, but that was a hunk of junk. Maybe he shouldn't. It wasn't his responsibility, though he certainly wanted to find an excuse for Efaen not to go. Not that she didn't have any really good ones already.
-
<Well, that's a relief,> Terenia says with a small laugh. She manages to calm herself down a bit, although it is hard for her to do so completely. The very idea of enjoying herself, of being happy, is so foreign to her that she wants to experience it completely.
<<I wonder how Mike is doing,>> she wonders suddenly. If there is anyone who should enjoy the benefits of their conversation it is Mike.
Zorish laughs roughly. "I told you before, I have no intention of joining your terrorist organization. Just because the Empire may not be perfect, that doesn't mean it's worth risking my palps for your little band of paranoid rebels." He scowls and stands up, swaying slightly but managing to keep his feet this time.
"This conversation is poisonous," he announces. "It is poisonous and dangerous and fruitless. And it is over."
Snatching up his glass of water he totters backwards some, catches his balance, and spins around to leave.
<She and I were stationed aboard the same Dome Ship when I was finishing my aristh training,> Efaen says stonily. <She was already trapped as a Yeerk, and no one aboard the ship beyond the highest ranking officers and her host knew of her existence. She was being utilized for interrogation purposes and became upset with the methods by which they were asking her to extract information.> Efaen looks slightly unsettled by this, but pushes her concerns aside. <Eventually she decided to leave, but she had grown fond enough of her host that she had no desire to drag her away from her home. So she opted to find a replacement instead.>
-
<Knowing him, he's probably off drinking and getting me into trouble,> says Corliss wryly. <Perhaps I should hail him.>
"Fine, suit yourself, mate," Mike says with a sigh, watching Zorish stagger his way from the bar counter. "Barkeep, another pint, please. On the tab."
-
Ewa frowned as Vogefac got up and left just as quickly as he had arrived. She shrugged at Catie's comment. "I've never met one of his race before. Maybe they have different expectations for social interaction? That or he was just distracting himself from something he needed to do, I suppose."
She turned back to Keshin and smiled apologetically. "At least I wasn't planning on hiring anyone myself. So far as I know, I don't think I've stepped on that many toes yet...." She trailed off and tapped her fingers thoughtfully. "Obviously no one's really advertising openly at the moment, but... it does seem like this place has some new Imperials coming in. I'd guess they're a minority, for the moment, so they're probably unlikely to have powerful friends here. The flip side is they'd probably be much more inclined to hire you. Well. Unless the fact that they are Imperials and you're not is going to be an issue." Ewa raised an eyebrow slightly in question.
-
<Maybe,> Terenia says. <I don't want to interfere with his time alone. He doesn't get much of it and he's sort of been more than giving with his head space lately.>
Zorish doesn't answer, beyond shooting Mike a disgusted look. He stumbles forward, hesitating when he comes to the center of the bar. Vaguely he realizes that if he were smart he would go back to his ship, sleep off the alcohol and then reassess his situation. At the moment, though, he doesn't really feel like doing the intelligent thing.
<<Zorish?>> Tamora asks hesitantly.
<<Quiet, human,>> he hisses sharply, making his swaying way towards one of the empty booths. He practically falls into it, slumping down against the cracked plastic and sipping his water moodily.
-
<Yes, that's true,> Corliss says, a bit guiltily, his palps drooping. <What shall we do, then?>
Mike's gaze tracks Tamora and Zorish briefly over his new pint of beer.
Bloody hell, he thinks. And I thought my relationship was ****ed up.
-
<<Looks like the issue's taken care of itself,>> Illim remarks as he watches Zorish stagger away to the far end of the Bar, not too far from where Serid sits.
He watches with amusement as Serid sniffs with distaste and turns his back on the Yeerk. <<Wonder if that's from the Imperialness or the alcohol?>> he snorts.
As it turns out, the Andalite's irritation and disgust is from both. He sighs, drumming his fingers on the table a moment before stilling them. He is ready to be gone from this place.
-
<<You know him better than me, man.>> Derrel said.
After a short time of more sitting around, he decided to get up and approach Mike again. He felt maybe he could get more info about the base, and maybe start making acquaintances.
"Sorry for getting in your business earlier." He said as he sat near the guy. "But while you're not with Corliss, maybe we could talk a bit. Host to host. What's it like being at the base? What do the Humans do around there? What about the aliens? You guys aren't going to have some kind of embarrassing initiations for the new guy, are you?" He said. He spoke low enough that Zorish shouldn't overhear them.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin furrows his brow again in thought. <So she took you...but how could she manage to take a host besides that which she was given to communicate, and against the other's will at that?>
-
<Do?> Terenia asks, sounding confused. <What else is there to do when you're a Yeerk in a pool other than swim in circles and squeak at one another?>
Zorish finishes his water and sets the tumbler down. His eyes track as he loses focus on the world around him, drawn in by Tamora's emotions. Even though she is no longer speaking, per his demand, he can still read her every thoughts, feel her every feelings. The experience is making him incredibly uncomfortable.
<Terenia's first host was a friend of hers from the Academy. She was with her when she became a Yeerk and was the only one willing to serve as her host. The officers aboard the ship did not have a steady enough supply of Yeerk nutrients to keep her pool-bound constantly,> Efaen's main eyes tighten as she mentions the officers; clearly they were incompetent. <She monitored my schedule for weeks without fully letting on to her host what she was doing. Eventually she tracked me down while I was alone, used her host to knock me unconscious...I admit, I was never a strong physical warrior, and her previous host was quite strong. While I was unconscious Terenia injected her former host with a sedative and transferred while it was taking effect. By the time Warrior Jennor was free enough to react she was barely conscious.>
-
The pilot watched as the man's girlfriend stomped away. Well, sloshed away would be more appropriate, but he could tell she didn't want to converse anymore. It seemed as though she wasn't sure whether to leave or stay. After she had plopped down into a nearby booth, the pilot was about to speak to the man, however he was cut off by a young man blabbering on about hosts and aliens. This sparked his interests, as none of the aliens he knew of were parasitic. Of course every world has its parasites, but the way he talked about being a host seemed extremely different. He wasn't sure if he wanted to stay and eavesdrop, or talk to the inebriated woman. She didn't look too intent on being part of any conversation, however why else would she remain?
He asked the bartender for a glass of water. The bartender placed a glass of light brown liquid in front of him. He looked incredulously insulted at the bartender. The bartender then rolled his eyes and replaced the glass with a glass of clean water. He spun slowly in his chair and stood, both glasses in hand. He rose and walked over towards the drunken woman. He sat opposite her and placed the clean water glass in the middle of the table. He talked from under his hood asking, "You seem upset, mind if I inquire as to what troubles you?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin shakes his head a moment in thought. <That is unacceptable...she should never have had the chance...she should've been under constant supervision given her knowledge and potential danger. At least you are free now. Under the circumstances I cannot provide you with the proper ceremony, but as soon as I confirm your records with the Homeworld I will request they be updated to Warrior status. I have yet to receive notification of the return transmission in regard to your recovery.> He gives Efaen a slightly questioning glance before continuing. He had thought she had been a Warrior already...she had certainly passed herself as one. Even if she was not telling the truth about her records, it would not do to have an aristh deployed on such a dangerous mission. She would be a Warrior regardless of verity.
<I will also share these details with the Electorate. Obviously the ship you were stationed upon requires a status inspection at the least...that is if the commanding officers involved with Terenia aren't already disgraced for her loss along with a morph-capable Warrior.> He withdraws his hoof, surveying the lake again. <It will be good once things are as they should be again. At least as far as is possible.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Rathien~
Rathien ****s an eyebrow at the strange being. "You claim to have the ability to transcend universes as well? Forgive me for being overtly skeptical, but I've been under the impression that this technology is not widely available...or entirely believable by those who have not experienced it firsthand."
-
At first Zorish does not respond to the stranger that takes a seat across from him. Dimly he registers the newcomer's arrival, but he is lost in thought, flipping through Tamora's extensive memory bank. After a few moments, though, the distinct feeling of being watched makes Tamora's hackles stand up and her eyes regain focus.
"What do you want?" Zorish demands, either ignoring or having not heard his initial question. One hand trails down to his Dracon Beam protectively.
<It is my belief,> Efaen says stiffly. <That Terenia was able to succeed due to the unacceptable arrogance of the ship's officers. They regarded female warriors as obscene and thusly thought of myself an her previous host, Jennor, as no more than children. They certainly did not think of them as a threat. Terenia even less so, being not only female but a human child.>
Efaen sighs deeply through her nose slits. <I would welcome some normality myself,> she admits, <but I sense that such a thing has ceased to exist for me.>
-
The pilot feels her awareness increase and become guarded. Her body language suggests she may be reaching for a weapon. He didn't want a confrontation in unknown space, so he waved his hand in front of him, his ring and pinky curled. Using his Jedi training, he attempted to manipulate her mind. Hopefully in her drunken state, this woman would be more open to suggestion. "There's no need for hostilities," he lowers his hand and finishes his sentence normally, "I only wish to inquire towards your disturbance."
-
Silver gave a soft giggle as Parker remembered Thor in her fathers ship. "I dont mind. He will be glad you are back" she said softly. The wind brushed along her skin bringing news of a newcomer. His aura was very different than the rest. She put the information away for now, still weak and wanting this time for her and Parker.
-
Parker turned and carried Silver back towards The Cursed Pride. On his way, he just caught sight of a cloaked individual entering the bar. He noted his entry, otherwise, he kept heading towards the ship. With the crew busy, he let themselves inside. He entered the bridge and went immediately to the console he placed Thor originally.
On the screens, Thor's image appeared; his usual entrance of kneeling in his animal skin apparel, leaning on a short-handled hammer, then standing tall within the screens, leaning the hammer upon his shoulder. His eyes remained stoic and his voice, projected through the ship's speakers, was even, "Hello again Parker-821, it has been some time. I apologize I was unable to prevent your being stranded. The commands were sent straight from Gaz's person, rather than from this bridge."
Parker tilted his head and nodded, "Indeed it has old friend. It's great to see you after all this time. You're usual theatrics, you haven't changed one bit. Don't worry about that, I'm just glad to be back."
Thor returned the small bowing gesture given by Parker and replied asking, "Do you wish to re-install me within your armor?"
Parker straightened with anticipation, "I do, provided you haven't become too attached to the crew here."
Thor looked at the crewmen of the bridge and smiled, "Though they have kept me busy and entertained, it is with you that I belong. We should continue to find a way home."
Parker replied, "Well Thor, finding a way home sounds like a far way away. None of their ships can move in our Slipspace, unless you've found a way to modify their engines." He looked to Silver and continued, "And you know, sometimes Home finds you."
Thor bowed his head slightly, giving an unsaid reply to Parker's question towards the modifications, while continuing to listen. He straightened again and replied, "Very well, though I do hope that we continue to find a way, even if our chances are low." With his last piece said, his image disappeared. Parker leaned backward, supporting Silver now with his torso and placed his hand on the console. Thor transferred back into his armor, and Parker replaced his hand upon Silver, standing straight again.
The familiar and greatly missed feeling of the A.I.'s presence filled Parker's nerves, sending a chill throughout his body. Parker shook his head, expelling the pent up energy it caused as Thor spoke within his head again, <Welcome back SPARTAN-821.>
-
Zorish's scowl deepens, but he rests his hand on the cracked plastic of the booth rather than his weapon. "It's none of your business," Zorish snaps.
<<He's right, you know,>> Tamora pipes up, <<You don't have to be such a jerk.>>
<<Shut up,>> Zorish snaps, in no mood to be reprimanded by his host. He looks back up at the stranger, raising his eyebrows at the cloak. "I'm sorry, I'm not in the habit of speaking with those I can't identify."
-
Jocun finally made it back to the Space Bar. His armor was torn apart, and he was missing his rifle. After the portal closed, he sat on the ground in kind of a daze.
<<Safe. Never before have I been happier that I was born in a time of relative peace.>>
<<Uh huh.>> Simon said.
He might have sat there longer, but his hunger pushed him forward. He needed Kandrona, and luckily the portal placed him near his ship. He entered it, and made his way to the pool. While he began to feed, Simon changed clothes. He put on a tee shirt and blue jeans instead of the colorful Hawaiian shirt Jocun had on once before. He sent a message out that the mission was accomplished, and he was back. He grabbed a communicator and almost grabbed a dracon, but decided against it. They were still trying to maintain a low profile in a place that disliked Imperials. He was tempted to stay in the ship, but also felt like having a strong drink.
"You want me to stay here, Leader? Or am I dismissed?"
"Do as you'd like, Simon. The security on this ship should be enough to keep me safe. Just stay in touch."
"Yes sir."
He left the ship and made his way to the building. Inside he could see two familiar faces. Serid and Zorish were both unfriendly. One because he hated Imperials, and the other because she didn't take to him very quickly. He didn't want to sit with Serid, and Zorish seemed to be in a bad mood. There was another Human controller in an Imperial uniform that wouldn't pass inspection, armed with a dracon. Who knew what allegiance he actually had? Simon ordered a drink and found a chair in the corner where he'd have his back to the wall. Compared to what he'd been through, even talking with the Andalites from before would have been cake. He hoped the others were ok. He hadn't come out exactly when they did, so for all he knew he could be waiting a while for them to show up.
-
Corliss' tone is one of wry amusement. <Yes, well, this particular pool does have a computer hookup, you might've noticed,> he replies smoothly.
Mike looks up at Derrel in surprise. "Oh, hey there mate," he says, then amends with a sheepish smile, "I mean, mates. Uh. Yeah, we don't force you into anything embarrassing, like hazing or whatever, if that's what you mean. It's just a period of observation, for our benefit and your own. You get used to the place within certain set parameters, at your own like, comfort level...and we make sure you aren't going to ruddy kill us." He idly sips his beer.
-
The pilot remarks, "You couldn't identify me even if you could see my face. We've never met before. However I understand your meaning." He lifts his hood, revealing his head. He looks to be in his later twenties, he has close cropped blonde hair, though the top of his hair is about two inches long. The hair on the right side of his head seems a tad longer than his left for some odd reason. He has a kind face, though he has a fairly thick scar running down his forehead, over his left eye, and halfway down his cheek. His left eye is completely white, it is obvious he couldn't see out of it; though it tracks perfectly with its counterpart, almost as if he can. His "good" eye is green, but when he looks away, it almost seems to shift to blue when viewed at an angle. It's an odd discoloration brought on by his trauma. He smiles to the woman, showing his dimples, in hopes of calming and disarming her.
He rests his hood against his back and places his hands upon the table, showing his lack of hostility. He says with a slightly concerned look, "I apologize if I've put you off; but I was hoping to find out a little about where I am. I thought engaging in a conversation with you instead of just outright asking, would've been the more polite course." He pushes the full glass of water he brought a little closer to her, "That paired with a gift of good faith, of course."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin snorts in derision in response to Efaen's comment about arrogance and bigotry. <That's unfortunately yet predictably typical. Such arrogance and close-mindedness is not at all uncommon in members of our species.> He gives Efaen a meaningful look with his main eyes, trying to convey that his opinion that such is not a condition merely of officers, or only of males.
<This mission is important Efaen, but if normalcy is truly what you seek, I can still offer you a position aboard the Tyrennian. Again, I cannot promise you combat, but at least you will not face the same prejudices on my ship as you have elsewhere.> Ossanlin turns away from the lake, taking a few deep breaths of (for a wonder) fresh air, feeling much better than before.
-
<Fine then,> Terenia says, feigning disgruntlement. <What do you want to do, Mr. Fancy Computer Hookup?>
Zorish glances at the glass of water suspiciously before edging it towards him.
<<He'd be kind of cute if he didn't have that scar,>> Tamora chirps. Zorish's lips twist into an unconscious sneer.
<<What is with you and your sudden fascination in romance?>> he hisses. <<We came here for a purpose, or have you forgetten?>>
He raises the glass to his lips and takes a hesitant sip, figuring that if anyone here wanted to murder him outright he had already spoken with most of the culprits. How funny it would be, he thinks as he swallows the water, if we both met our death at this same dapsen bar but by completely different means.
"You are in a bar," Zorish says at last, lowering the drink and forcing Tamora's voice to come out as evenly as he can despite the alcohol on his breath. "A bar that, if I were a superstitious human, I would say was built by the hands of the devil himself. But, as I am not I can only assume that it is an unacceptable anomaly that is, nevertheless, here."
<I will be of greater use to you within the rebellion,> Efaen says. And I do not trust you, she adds silently. I'd rather live amongst the enemy I know than the one who smiles in my face and may not be an enemy at all, until it suits him. <If you do not wish for me to go, you are my Prince and I cannot refuse you. But it is my personal opinion, sir, that I will be able to have a greater impact over the course of the war if I proceed in this manner.>
She switches over to private thought-speak, in case there is anyone eavesdropping. <<Besides, my Prince,>> she says, <<I know you trust at the very least the Yeerk named Myitt, and your trust of the rebellion is an extrapolation of that. But is it not possible that, regardless of Myitt's good will, she is being deceived herself? If it is in the best interest of the People, then I will fight alongside this rebellion. However, I can also help to determine whether they will betray us or not, when the Empire is no longer a mutual enemy.>>
-
<<Not a bad guy, it seems,>> Illim remarks, effectively charmed by Mike's English accent. <<Ask him how he got involved at some point. I'm curious.>>
As Serid watches Jocun walk back into the building his eyes, if possible, narrow further as he remembers his conversation with Ossanlin. His Prince is right; there is no good reason for the Yeerk to offer the rebellion assistance. Either he is ignorant of how time is manipulated at this mysterious juncture or he is lying.
-
Corliss hesitates, reluctant to pull away from close proximity to Terenia.
<Yeah,> he says nonchalantly. <Yeah, let's uh, let's go hook up to the computers for a bit. I can whip your tail at Pong.> With a burst of clicking laughter he shoots off towards the sleek metal edge of the pool.
-
"So tell me about yourself. How did you become a controller, and switch sides? What's the background on this rebellion?" Derrel said.
After getting his composure, Simon remembered Jocun had tried to make an agreement with Serid. Something about helping the rebellion to make sure it lasted through the war. He got up and went to Serid's table, but didn't sit down.
"Hey Serid. Have you thought much about my...offer?" He was going to say his leader's offer, but decided to leave it out. Though since his mannerisms were different, Serid might pick it up anyway. "Being in the Empire doesn't mean we aren't equality friendly." Jocun was bright and friendly, which he had trained himself to be for good PR. Simon was more reserved, and actually acted like most middle aged people would act.
<I feel like going back to the bar, Candice. You may come or stay.> Claxter said, and started making the trip back.
-
Keshin groans, rubbing his forehead. He was really hoping Ewa would at least have some kind of friend that needed his help. Oh, well. Maybe she was right about the Imperials being good clients. The only Imperial he'd seen though was Zorish. And he was absolutely not dealing with anyone even vaguely related to Terenia. "Well...ehrm...thank you for your help. We might be back around."
Keshin then sits up and looks around, abruptly noticing what has to be Corliss in the Bar. <What fortuitous timing, Joanne.>
<No kiddin'. Let's get 'is attention, huh?>
Keshin then wanders across the Bar to Corliss and smiles wryly at him. "Hey Corliss, old buddy old pal. Don't forget about our little deal. We are not going to be happy if Reven screws us, and the agreement is that we avoid you guys as long as the offer stands. Just making sure. How's life?"
****************************************************************************************
Mar folds his arms behind his back with a wry grin. "Oh, I never said I was using technological means to do the jumping. But if you don't believe me, that's fine by me. I just won't have anything to do with you. I've done what I wanted to with Salem. Go ahead and knock him off."
Mar then wanders slightly ahead of Rathien toward the Bar. He doubts the bounty hunter will take his bait, but it was worth a shot. He's at least more interesting then most of the patrons in the place. Salem now has a connection to him, and the more he uses it the farther along Mar's tendrils get. He dimly wonders how long this mindset will last, and whether it even matters. He is a limited incarnation, and there are few connections he can make among such jaded folk.
-
Derrel looks Keshin up and down warily. Agreement? "What are you talking about? Some kind of 'protection' money?" He didn't like those types. Nosing into people's business to extort money or something else from them. "Who are you?"
-
Mike opens his mouth to respond to Derrel, when the smirking visage of the bounty hunter who had shot him and Corliss sidles up to their seats at the bar.
"Yeah, yeah, everything's cool with our plan," he replies to Keshin, adding, "mate," as a grudging afterthought. "Life. Heh. I reckon it's going." He sips his lukewarm beer and realizes perhaps it would be polite to make conversation. "How are, um...how are you, then?"
-
The pilot sensed a quarrel in the woman's mind. More than mistrust, more than uncertainty; it was more than a being of two minds. It was as though there were two beings within her mind. He could sense the attraction and revulsion as two distinctly true reactions. He had met conflicted personalities in the mentally unstable, however these were not conflictions of one nature; these were two completely different natures. The pilot's face grew interested as she spoke. The mention of an anomaly was oddest to him. He asked, "What do you mean 'anomaly'; what sector is this? I thought we were in Hutt Space."
-
<Pong?> Terenia echoes, scrunch-thrusting her body with somewhat less grace to the computer console and smiling inwardly at his laughter. <I was always more of a Tetris girl myself.>
"I don't know Hutt space," Zorish says, an edge still in his voice even as he resigns himself to conversation with the stranger. "But this place isn't in any mapped sectors that I know of. From what I understand you'd have a hard time charting it. Something about a 'nexus of space and time'." He snorts derisively. "I think it's a load of bull, personally, but I can't deny that I've seen some fairly impossible things since arriving here."
-
The pilot had an incredulously shocked face when the woman said she didn't know about Hutt Space. How did anyone not know about the Hutts? When she mentioned a 'nexus', his face evened. That explains a lot. He sat back, satisfied that he was truly lost. He returned his attention to the woman, "Thank you. Do you mind if I inquire towards your disagreement with your friend? It seems to have affected you some. Apart from the alcohol, I mean."
-
~Ossanlin~
<I concur with your opinion on that matter Efaen. Under the current circumstances you can indeed do the most good with the rebellion.> He feels her withdraw, walls that may have been partially torn down thrown back up stronger than ever. She refused to trust...perhaps she could no longer trust at all. <I was merely attempting to take your personal feelings on the matter into account.>
<<And you are right about Myitt...she is the only sentient being I trust in the entire Galaxy. The only one. If I trusted the rebellion unconditionally, I'd have no need for your current station now would I?>>
He begins to move back toward the ships, feeling more refreshed than he thought he would. Perhaps he'd be able to perform Terenia's operation sooner than he'd expected. <I trust you've adequately fed?>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Rathien~
Rathien raises both eyebrows. The philosophers on Ildiar often spoke of beings who might be able to use only the powers of thought to accomplish many things, perhaps this Mar was not one to be trifled with. He grunts a bit as the being walks away. It would probably be best to leave that one alone.
-
Illim gives a snort of amusement. <<Alright, slow down, partner,>> he tells Derrel. <<Maybe she doesn't want you in her business; sounds like she made a deal with Reven.>> He watches Mike and Keshin; <<Sounds like our human friend has got this under control.>>
Serid gives Simon a sidelong look and sighs. "I am not in the rebellion," he tells him. "I merely have a tenuous connection to it. Answer me this, Yeerk," he says, turning to face him more directly. "What evidence can you give me that you are offering this assistance out of pure goodwill? It makes no sense; it could alter your reality."
-
<<I guess so. I'll just talk to him about it later. I'm not trying to be overly confrontational with the lady, though. Just asking. If she brushes me off, I'll button up.>>
Simon thought about it. Didn't Jocun have enough on his plate without worrying about another time or dimension? If it was his past, then why bother it? If it was another dimension, who was he to interfere?
"Some risks are worth taking, I suppose. As for goodwill, there isn't really anything to gain from dropping off free supplies, nor is there anything to gain from pretending to be nice when we could easily to set up an invasion force and start subjugating this place. I guess if we wanted to make sure this is another dimension instead of just the past, we'd have to look up certain events and see if they coincide with history. What year is this?"
-
Salem sighed when Rathien dropped back with him. He knew it wouldn't be that easy to get the drop on the hunter, but he could at least try.
He listened as Mar insinuated that he'd like Rathien to assassinate a "Crimson," with a twinge of jealousy. That job... a real assassination... that should be his. It'd been too long since he'd had a proper target. He'd never be nearly as zealous about the hunt as Rathien, but there was something satisfying about watching all the pieces fall into place. His jealousy only gave way when he reminded himself who was offering this particular job. An enemy of an immortal- one which an immortal was not capable of bringing to justice himself- was not someone to be trifled with. In all likelihood, this job would leave him dead or broken. Not the kind of thing he wanted or needed right now.
He shook his head, slightly, to clear it. Mar and Rathien had continued speaking- discussing Mar's ability to transcend universes.
He grinned at Rathien, "There are a lot of strange things in this multiverse, Ildari. You believe in some great guiding hand of fate, I'd think you'd at least be willing to accept the possibility of things beyond your experience." He quickly looked the hunter up and down- guaging the being's readiness, his weapon placement, the distance to the bar door- anything that might allow him to get an upper hand. If he were quick... no, not now. Not yet. Too much risk.
Though, since Rathien seemed intent on staying in the vicinity of the bar... he sent a series of thought-speak commands to his ship. The ramp slid shut, and- in his head, audible only to him- he began to hear a series of loud beeps. Overly loud, in fact. He grabbed his head and clamped his eyes shut for a moment, until he could get the command to his ship to decrease the volume. "Damn default," he muttered.
He turned to Rathien and shrugged, attempting to give off an air of arrogant nonchalance, "If you'll excuse me, hunter, I believe I had some people to help." He turned to Al, "Lead the way." As the two of them walked through the bar's doors, he noted that the beeping in his head got slightly slower- directly proportional to his proximity to Rathien. The system was far from fail-safe, of course, and would likely cut out if his ship managed to lose track of the hunter for a short time, so he'd still have to be alert. Giving the hunter the chance to kill him twice was unacceptable- let alone in one day. At least this is one more level of security, he thought.
-
"The rebel filth is certainly not my friend," Zorish says, sighing and rubbing his temples. He can feel the alcohol beginning to manifest itself in a migraine. "And our disagreement is mere politics. Uninteresting and none of your business."
Since it seems as though the offered water has not poisoned him yet, Zorish takes another sip.
<<We should return to the ship,>> Zorish mutters inwardly. <<Sleep off this dapsen alcohol and reassess the situation.>>
<<Why?>> Tamora asks. <<I'm not sleepy.>>
<<No, you're drunk,>> Zorish snaps. <<Or at least inebriated to some extent. And this bar is playing tricks on my judgment. I should not be having idle conversation with strangers. We are here to avenge our deaths, not to strike up small talk.>>
<Yes. I have eaten sufficiently.> Efaen says, turning to follow him.
<That is a lot of trust to place in a Yeerk,> she comments mildly, after a few moments of silence. <However well-earned the reasons.> She hesitates, then presses on. <Sir, if I may inquire. I understand that you are...willing to work alongside the rebellion Yeerks and forge alliances with their kind if you see that it will benefit the overall war against the Empire. But how do you see this ending? If the rebellion does not turn on us, if they are true to their word and we win the war, do you truly think the Electorate and the People will be willing to see them live?>
She shrugs her narrow shoulders. <It is easy enough now for the rebellion to be ignored, forgotten or remain unknown to the Andalite People at large. But once the Empire is defeated they will need a new enemy. Our People are peaceful by nature, but they also hold a deep responsibility and shame for the Yeerk plague. Many will not rest until every single Yeerk is defeated.> She chooses not to mention that she counts herself among that 'many'. She is more interested in Ossanlin's take on the end of the war than another argument over her hatred for the Yeerks.
-
The pilot nods understandably. Not all disagreeing parties accept or welcome mediators. The woman becomes slightly distractedly quiet. He senses the split in natures once more. One part of her wishes to stay, while the other wishes to go. The pilot looks over her, inspecting her expressions and actions. He senses only one is in control of her overt actions. What could the nature of this phenomenon be? As the controlling nature seems to be set on leaving, as well as staying guarded against conversation, the pilot found no reason to detain her from one of her wishes.
He bows his head slightly and says, "Well, I hope you sleep well." He hopes his assumptions as to her destination are enough to goad her into further conversation. If not, then at least the departing comment was as polite as he could make it.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin sighs a bit as he makes his way back toward the ship-yard. <Walk with me if you would, I feel I may be ready to begin Terenia's procedure soon.>
He moves at an unhurried pace, no reason to gallop and waste precious energy. <Don't center on your anxieties Efaen. It is good to be mindful of what the future might hold, but not at the expense of the moment. For now the rebels are friends. I do hope that more of our peoples' eyes are opened to the fact that not all Yeerks are Imperials, and not all wish to enslave free peoples for their own personal gains. But that is a bridge we must cross when we come to it. > He winces to himself as he recalls some of the holos and banners on the Homeworld. One large banner in particular...depict ing him standing in front of a legion of Warriors at the top of a hill crushing a Yeerk body under his hoof with his fist raised toward the sky in defiance comes to the forefront and he winces again. Probably little hope that had been taken down. Verreck had told him that Ossanlin's own name had become a scoop-known standard as the one of the greatest Yeerk exterminators in the Galaxy. Propaganda and falsehoods that aren't quite lies. He grimaces...it was that status that allowed him the freedom to work with the rebellion, but at the same time he despises being at the center of such a twisted circle of almost-lies...indeed being used as a figurehead to inspire the very hatred he's trying to fight.
<You will have to learn to trust again, you know. Some day you will need to trust again or destroy yourself with your endless suspicion.> He doesn't elaborate or speak further. Perhaps he'd said too much. His thoughts were distracted by his thoughts. Careless. He scolds himself and puts his mind back to its proper discipline, still walking toward the shipyard.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________
~Rathien~
Rathien ****s his head at Salem as he seems to experience some excruciating noise. He remains silent as he listens to Salem speak, and says nothing when the being walks off toward the bar at a faster pace, and through the door. He slows, looking around a moment before effortlessly leaping to the roof of the bar. He finds a comfortable spot near the top and arms his active camo again, looking around the clearing and watching the patrons come and go.
-
Zorish's eyes narrow slightly and he pauses in sliding out of the booth.
"How do you know I'm going to sleep?" he demands, wondering if perhaps it is best to end this conversation before it begins. "That would be a relatively stupid thing to do in a place such as this, with enemies all around."
<I will be cautious, sir,> Efaen says mildly. <Trust can be earned, even if it is difficult to do so. I will not withhold trust merely for the sake of withholding it. I recognize the futility of such an act.>
She continues to follow him, both eager and reluctant to take part in the process that will make Terenia human again. <As far as focusing on the present is concerned, I feel as if that is the logic that led to the Yeerk disaster in the first place. Seerow focused only on the benefits of our initial alliance with the Yeerks. He did not stop to consider the consequences of arming a parasitic species with spaceflight and weaponry. Maybe I should not dwell on the future, but it is certainly something to be considered.>
-
The pilot smiles to himself, glad his ploy had worked. He replies, "You're drunk, to such an extent that sleep, or unconsciousness, is inevitable. There's naught to do out there but return to your ship; else walk amongst the foliage where you could be ambushed easily in your current state. To properly recover, it would only make sense to return to your vessel, and sleep off your inebriation." He shifts his position into a more excitedly anticipating stance asking, "Why, what were you going to do? Jump in the lake?" His smile widens to one side after making his light-hearted joke.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods as he listens to Efaen and allows her to finish before speaking up. <Perhaps, but can the same argument not be made for the opposite point of view, Efaen? I believe that Prince Seerow was too fixated on the future that he believed would come to pass. He was blinded to the events in his present that foretold the coming disaster by his comparatively bright view of the future. So certain was he that our relationship with the Yeerks would be beneficial, that his actions regarding them would lead both of our species into a golden age...so focused upon and blinded by that future that he did not see the obvious seeds of dissent and betrayal taking root right in front of him.>
-
"Perhaps," Zorish says sourly, sinking back into the booth and folding his arms. Despite the fact that his host is more than twenty years old the display comes off as a bit childish - something that Zorish either doesn't notice or doesn't care about.
"I am not as drunk as you may think," he adds, pleased to note that he is only slurring his words slightly - a major improvement over his conversation with Mike. "The alcohol affects my host more thoroughly than it does me. If I were not connected to her I would be perfectly fine."
<Yes, I suppose that could be true,> Efaen allows hesitantly. <Regardless, Prince Seerow's actions were unacceptable and their consequences have shamed our people. He should have exercised more caution with a people that were not his own.>
She stretches her tail as she walks, marveling once again in the freedom of her own autonomy. She has grown almost used to it now, but every few hours it seems to strike her again that she truly is no longer a slave in her own body. The thought encourages her and she picks up her pace slightly. <I thank you, Prince Ossanlin,> she says, <for the role that you have played in my time here. I was under the assumption that I would be the vessel of that child forever. I had all but given up hope.>
-
Salem looked around at the bar. He winced and glanced towards the bar as the beeps in his head suddenly jumped slightly in frequency, and frowned when he didn't see Rathien coming through the door. The hunter was quick, and, as he'd proven multiple times now, often invisible. It might be wise to find some equipment capable of seeing beyond the standard visual range.
"Y'know what'd be nice?" he whispered to Al. "A personal hologram generator."
Al laughed. He seemed to be loosening up, now that they were no longer in Rathien's immediate vicinity, "Hey, aren't you the one who always says that the trade comes first? It looks to me like Jasper's going to be able to do some pretty cool things with it, given time."
"Yeah, but... I'm so visible."
"So grab that cloak I gave you. It'll work just as well as a generator in most cases."
Salem sighed, "I feel so silly trying to use Furka crap for real purposes."
Al shrugged, "Hey, it works, doesn't it?"
Salem didn't respond. Instead, he pulled out his persona scanner and began pointing it at each of the bar patrons he didn't recognize. With each, he'd stop, and click the button on top of the device, causing it to emit a small trill. When he was done, he began clicking it at the patrons he'd already scanned, as well.
"So where're these people who need my help?" he asked, continuing to scan.
Al looked around, "Um... not seeing 'em here. They were in a hurry, I think. Maybe they left without us."
"Mmm... what'd they look like?"
"Quadruped and a green chick. Said their friend had been pulled into some kind of portal."
Salem nodded, "That's what you said. I can't exactly do anything if they're not here."
Al nodded, "Just keep an eye open. They seemed alright."
Salem laughed, "Dude, to you, everyone seems alright." He sighed again and stuck the persona scanner back in his pocket, "Well, if they're already gone, maybe they'll still be open to trading, if they ever come back alive. This seems like a silly way to lose potential custo..." he smirked at Al, "I mean friends."
-
The pilot smiles at her mention that she isn't as drunk as he thought. He was about to give a retort until she mentioned a host and being connected. His eyes widened slightly at this revelation. That's what I was sensing. It really is two beings within one body.
At the moment of clarity, two new faces enter the bar, one of which begins to scan some of the patrons, including himself. He senses life only flowing from one of the beings. That can only mean that the other is some sort of mechanical being. More than likely an android with a hologram projector. It very well may be a simulacrum, however the droid is the more likely of scenarios.
He returned his full attention to the woman before him and asked excitedly, "Your host; you mean you're controlling this being's body? I've never met a parasite that had reached sentience, let alone sapience."
-
<<Alright,>> Illim says. <<I know you're new to this whole space war thing, but just remember it's a dangerous galaxy, and you haven't landed yourself with the most powerful side. Granted, I think it's very noble of you, but for a guy who's looking for self-preservation, you might wanna play it a bit safer. Most've these folks have got guns, you know.>>
Serid shakes his head, his dark eyes narrowing behind curly hair. "What do you have to gain at all, I ask? What is the purpose of this extension of goodwill?" He folds his arms across his chest and gives Simon a level stare. "I shall desist in giving you any further information until I understand your true purpose."
-
"Clearly I am both," he says dryly. "As is my host. My species has the ability to infest and control other beings, yes. We are fairly well-known throughout this galaxy." He takes a sip of water and considers the stranger. "Which indicates that you are not from this galaxy." The potential strikes him as intriguing.
"So tell me, then. Who are you? Where are you from?" he is beginning to see the seeds of success in his failed bar trip. A small smile of cautious optimism settles over his features.
-
<<Sometimes I do put my foot in my mouth. <<Derrel said. He hoped this woman didn't think he was trying to be aggressive when he asked who she was. Maybe she'd just blow him off. Though she was taking her sweet time responding.
"You seem to think he-I have an ulterior motive. You think of me as an enemy because you're still at war with us. We're not your enemy. There isn't really much difference in our ideals, and the ideals of the rebels. We just happen to work within the Empire to improve it instead of working outside of it. We don't hide our intentions, even though it does make some unhappy. We don't want the Empire you're familiar with to get what they want, but we don't want the Andalites to get what they want either. Your kind would eradicate the Yeerk species for what the Council is doing. The rebels have the right idea, and deserve support."
"Maybe I'm talking to the wrong person, though. I'm sure I'll come across an actual rebel, and talk to them."
-
Keshin grins wryly at Corliss. "Can't complain, can't complain. Being chased out of a Bar and nearly killed by a bunch of unrelated patrons is just Tuesday for us. Or at least it is at this Bar. How're the rebellion arrangements going? I still think you'd have to be crazy to get involved with that human-Andalite freak Terenia. How exactly did all those arrangements even happen?"
<Oh come on, Kess. Now isn' the time to vent your frustration.>
<It is too. Nothing has been going right for us and it started with this guy.>
<Didn' it start with that weird time chick Elayne?>
<Oh, don't ruin my fun.>
Keshin then raises an eyebrow at the unfamiliar patron who spoke up before Corliss. "And just what's your problem?"
***************************************************************************************************
Mar wanders toward the front door of the Bar and pushes it open, stepping inside. It looks like the bounty hunter intended to avoid him. Oh well, that would have been nice. The establishment was getting to be full again---various groups of jaded malcontents with something to prove. His presence here seemed more ridiculous with each passing moment, yet he was loathe to leave. He wondered why the Bar entity would draw another immortal to itself.
Mar sits down at one of the tables, almost slumping into position. It had been a very long, strange several weeks.
-
"I was kind of having a conversation here, but it's ok. Go ahead." Derrel said.
-
The pilot smiled and answered, "My name is Garreth Rob. I was born in the Raioballo sector, on the planet Dantooine. I was on my way from there when I was accidentally detoured to this planetoid. I suspect an interdiction field set up by the Mandalorians is what caused the anomaly that sent me here. So what exactly are you? Your host is human, that much is clear. You're a parasite, but what is your species called?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods his head once noncomittally at Efaen's comment regarding Prince Seerow. Yes the male had been careless in his endeavors, but he was not the demon the Electorate and beuracracy had made him out to be. He had merely done what he thought proper and beneficial for his people. If Ossanlin holds any anger for Seerow, it is not for the Yeerk menace, it is for his carelessness in the line of duty.
He glances at Efaen, allowing his mild surprise to break through the normalcy of his expression at her words of gratitude. Thanks, but no trust. Even so, he'd thought she would be incapable of even that much. <You are welcome, Efaen. I cannot stand idly by whilst involuntary hosts are made to dance like puppets, especially if those hosts belong to my race. Even if I put my personal feelings aside, duty is a mountain upon my shoulders where an Imperial in control of a morph-capable host is concerned. It was not possible for you to remain in the hads of the Empire. I am glad that I did not have to resort to drastic measures to be sure that such a thing did not occur.> Ossanlin smiles just a tad, and genuinely at that.
-
<<Uh huh, she took it well,>> Illim remarks with an internal smirk. <<Maybe you just need a bit more to drink. I know this isn't exactly the safest place to loosen up, but I'll keep you safe. And Mike too, I'm sure.>>
Serid frowns, watching Simon skeptically. "You are telling me that your ideals include the choice of freedom for all beings? And you voice your opinion before your fellow Imperial Yeerks?" His eyes narrow. "Did you echo this during the war? Now it may be an unpopular belief, but then it was treason. And I am sure the Rebels, in your timeline, paid dearly for it."
-
Derrel continued with his drink, not looking at Keshin directly, but keeping her in his peripheral vision.
"The war was a long time ago. I can't say what my position would be then, even if I had the same power. Back then, nice guys didn't make it to the rank of Visser One. Vissers wouldn't think to go against the Council as we might. They had a tight control over the populous, and the people were too afraid of Kandrona starvation or the Andalites to start a large civil war. The closest they got was the rebels you are familiar with. If the Council tried some of the crap now that they did then, they'd find themselves kicked out of office. Sure they have power, but not near absolute control." Simon said.
"Before they beat the Andalites, they were too afraid to really revolt because the enemy would just mop up the mess. Once they beat the Andalites, and all of the Council's most loyal Yeerks were dead, that's when the people became unafraid. They voiced their opinions louder than ever, and the Council was forced to listen. If the Andalites win, the Yeerks will be killed off. I know this because the Andalites are fond of using quantum viruses on species they have issues with. The Hork-Bajir and the Humans being the two most historic events. If the Council does defeat the rebels in this timeline, there may not be enough people left to oppose them in the aftermath."
-
<<Tetris?>> Corliss replies, the syllables sounding foreign to his ultrasonic squeaks. <<Tet...ah, the game with the coloured blocks. Yes, Mike used to play it.>>
He slides his palps into the corresponding inserts at the metal computer terminal, and instantly his mind is connected to dozens of interactive "images". Not nearly as detailed or colorful as true sight, but compared to the pool it was bliss.
<<Game on,>> he says, his voice echoing within the pool and the computer terminal simultaneously.
Mike gives Keshin and Joanne a fishy glare. "What's happening with Terenia and the rebellion is none of your bloody business, thanks very much," he replies calmly, sipping his beer. "You'll get your payment, that's all you need worry about."
-
Zorish nods as his suspicions are confirmed. He has not heard of any of the places Garreth mentioned, a fact that brings up all sorts of interesting possibilities.
<<It may be worthwhile to put off our nap a little longer,>> Zorish murmurs internally. He can feel Tamora's body fighting the effects of the alcohol, but the water seems to be helping.
"My kind are called Yeerks," he says. "We are, as you have already guessed, a parasitic species. My name is Zorish Three-Two-Five of the Sulp Niar Pool. I am Sub-Visser Twenty-Eight of the Yeerk Empire." He watches Garreth's face closely for any flicker of recognition as he rattles off his name and designation.
<As am I,> Efaen says sincerely. <I hold no love for Terenia, but I have been forced to witness her in the throes of Kandrona starvation many times. It is not an experience I wish to ever repeat.> She falls into silence, striding slightly behind her Prince as they make their way back towards the ship yard.
Terenia follows suit, connecting her own palps to the computer system. It takes her a few confused seconds to adjust to the false impressions that the computer uses to replicate vision, but she gets the hang of it quickly enough.
<<I never had access to any computer systems on the Blade Ship,>> she comments mildly as she logs into the game.
-
Sunion, appeared next to some building he did not know, the instruments on ship weren't making any sense to him. They were saying that he was still in space going at the speed of light, headed towards his home planet, Swatsna. He wasnt really sure what to make of it all. He tried to start his engines and take off but it was to no avail. He did what came almost naturally at this point in his life, he grabbed hold of his sword and opened the hatch to his ship. As a Satiges he knew that his body would adapt to this unknown environment, as it always did. Standing at 5'9 he was one of the shortest people on his planet but that had only pushed him that much more to become the best he could be. He walked into the unknown building taking in the sights of the unknown species. He sat at an empty table his sword now on his back, his lower two arms crossed across his shirtless chest, the muscles and scars of battle clearly defined against the dark leather tone of his skin.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods benignly, not bringing to light the fact that he would've destroyed Efaen herself if necessary before allowing the Imperials to have her back in any form.
<Is there anyone you would like to make contact with before you are deployed? Generally Warriors are no allowed such priveleges while on active duty as I'm certain you remember, but it has been quite some time since you've had such an opportunity. I can dedicate a portion of the Tyrennian's long-range transponder bandwidth if necessary.>
He continues walking toward the shipyard and emerges from the treeline, glancing again at the bar. He orients upon the Skimmer and continues trotting at a leisurely if purposeful pace in its direction.
-
Garreth's eyes become concerned a moment, almost saddened. He asks, "Your name has a number designation; as well as your military rank? Does your species care so little about the individual; or are there just far too many of your kind to truly take time to develop such a novelty as a secondary name?"
-
Claxter arrived at the bar, and stood in the doorway looking in. He noticed Zorish was still here, as well as the other Imperial. Corliss was here, which caused him to lose all motivation to enter the room. He walked out, and his stalk eye caught Ossanlin and Efaen. He decided to start making his way over to them at a trot, wondering where they were headed. Certainly he'd want to be with them more than in the same room with two Imperials and Corliss.
"I think the Andalite Claxter is still peeved at you." Derrel said to Mike as he noticed Claxter enter, give Mike an angry look, then leave. "Should we be watching him?"
-
<I am certain that my family thinks I am deceased,> Efaen says with a small sigh. <Even if my military records are changed to indicate an active status, news will not reach them for some time. In fact, I think I would prefer it if they continued to think I had perished in battle. Should anything go awry, it is best that they do not have to mourn my death twice.>
<Besides,> she says after a pause. <they would not allow my father to receive a communication, vecol that he is. If he could even be located. And I have nothing of importance to say to my mother.>
"My kind give birth to hundreds at once," Zorish says with an air of haughtiness. "A numerical designation system is the most efficient method of identification. Zorish is my given name, Three-Two-Five indicates the order in which I was born. It is efficient. Surnames are a human concept."
-
Sunion walked up to the bar, and sat down. Looking at the bartender, he said <let me get your strongest drink and do you know anyone that would explain to me where I am.>
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods. <As you wish.> He pulls out his communicator and hails the Skimmer...it would be best to do this as quickly as possible. Waiting outside for the hatch to open would be inefficient. Terenia would probably want at least a little time to prepare as well. He regards his comm patiently waiting for a response, still trotting toward the squat, insectoid shape of the Skimmer.
-
Illim gives a little sigh of agitation, Derrel's own chest rising and falling with the exaggerated breath. <<So what's the story there?>> Illim asks Derrel, regarding Claxter. <<Don't think I know that particular blue fuzzy.>>
"Quantum virus?" Serid echoes, his eyebrows drawing lower. "When did this occur?"
If the Empire had grown strong enough to defeat the Andalites... that was unthinkable and disturbing. And, in the back of his mind, it made him wonder if he had made the right decision to leave Illim just before he found his way to the rebellion.
But Ertoran, he reminds himself, flaring with muted anger. You would never have joined anyway, due to her presence. Do not second-guess your decision. This Yeerk's history has no bearing on my present.
-
<<That guy that got all ticked off when Corliss shot Efaen for no reason. We were there.>> Derrel said. <<The only reason he didn't get into an all out fight with Corliss is because the one in charge stopped him. I wonder if there's anything else Corliss did to tick him off, or was it just that one thing?>>
"It happened not long after Earth was secured. Yeerk forces began consolidating there, and the Andalits released a virus to kill them all. All it really did was slow them down a bit, much like with the Hork-Bajir Homeworld. Too little too late, of course."
Claxter got closer to Ossanlin and Efaen, and noticed they were heading towards the shipyard. He moved in a direction where they would meet each other as they approached, instead of just walking straight towards them. <Hello! May I join you?> He said as he got closer.
-
Garreth's head raised, satisfied by the answer given. However his eyes narrowed in a sort of confusion after she said that surnames were a "Human concept". He shook his head saying, "Though surnames may be 'alien' to your species; I'm more than certain that they do not originate with Humans. Many of the species in my galaxy had surnames long before Humans even came upon them. Many species' surnames identified from which tribe they came, others signified their profession. In my galaxy, there are thousands of planets and each planet has over one hundred thousand citizens. They all have surnames.
"So how did a planet full of sapient parasites find their way into space? Does your planet have indigenous hosts that allowed you to construct or technology?"
-
~Raile~
Raile sighs as his fighter drops out of hyperspace, scanning the locality. His long-range scanners had detected some technology at this locale, though all of it appeared foreign. He only hesitates a few moments before disengaging his fighter from its hyperdrive transport ring. Every time he did so now, it felt like an inordinate risk. Even if he was still in transmission range of the Republic, he could not risk contacting them for a replacement if someone decided to destroy it. He doesn't have much of a choice though as he's in need of supplies. Perhaps this place is far enough away for him to rest or stay for a time. His R4 unit beeps and Raile nods, "Yes, we're landing."
His arrow-head shaped Aethersprite-class fighter slices into the atmosphere of the small planetoid and he reaches out with the Force. There's life...life and thought. And his scanners still detect technology that must be ships of some sort. He zeros in on a reasonably-sized if shabby construction of...wood? Apparently this place hadn't heard of duracrete or plasteel, or had no access to proper building supplies. And yet the ships parked outside were definitely of a higher technological level than the structure itself.
He maneuvers his fighter in deftly and lands a bit away from the other ships, opening the canopy. He sighs again as he climbs out of the craft and seals it again. He touches the lightsaber over his shoulder as well as the one at his waist self-consciously. He supresses a pang of sadness at touching his former master's saber. His old master's final action had been to push his lightsaber into Raile's hands and tell the young Jedi Knight to flee. He allows his hand to remain reverently on the lightsaber for a few moments before removing it and squaring his shoulders, pulling the hood of his robe up over his head. He glances at the droid ensconced in the back of his fighter, "Keep an eye on the ship, R4...we might need to make a hasty exit." The droid beeps his acceptance and falls silent as Raile turns and walks toward the woefully dilapidated-looking structure.
Raile doesn't know what the structure is or what it's purpose might be, but it seems to be the place where all the people are located. He glances around as he walks toward the structure and sees two aliens of a species the likes of which he's never seen before. One appears masculine, while the other is smaller and has a feminine air. Both are shades of blue, but they seem to posess both a lower and an upper body, the latter being humanoid while the former seems more like a slight beast of burden. Neither wore any clothing, but the one Raile perceives as being male has some sort of cross-harness over the upper portion of his body with what appear to be curved sticks hanging down on either side, perhaps weapons of a sort. He also notices what appear to be blasters on both creatures. He closes his eyes and takes the opportunity to wrap himself in serenity. The loneliness is a terrible feeling, but only if he allows it to truly touch him.
He continues on, walking through archaic swinging double doors, and uses both hands to pull his hood back, revealing his young-appearing and slightly angular face. He looks around the room and immediately recognizes the place as a type of cantina, though none like he'd ever before seen. There are some humans and he's glad of it, though they wear garb completely foreign to him. His eye suddenly catches a human wearing a light brown robe...a lighter shade than his own but there is no mistaking its meaning. He stands to his full 5'11" height, his green eyes flashing emerald fire in excitement before he schools his features and walks calmly to the bar a good distance from the other robed individual. He supresses his features again as a new surge of hope and joy breaks through his strict serenity. To see another Jedi...if that was what he was...he has to be...Raile shakes his head a bit, his short-cropped dirty-blond hair barely moving with the motion. He glances at what appears to be the bartender, the humanoid staring at him stoicly, expectantly.
"I don't suppose you have any Blacknip or, Force be with me, Whyren's Reserve?" The BT wordlessly reaches under the counter and comes up with a somewhat dusty bottle of amber-gold liquid. Raile's eyes raise in surprise and a smile manages to break through his facade. This was welcome indeed. Rarely had Raile seen the liquor native to Corellia beyond the "Brothers" themselves, and what he had seen had cost a star-system and a half. The BT produces ice from under the counter as well as a tumbler, and pours the smooth liquid for Raile, setting the bottle beside the mostly-filled glass. Raile pulls a few credits from his belt and sets them on the bar counter, picking up the tumbler and drinking gratefully, wholly savoring the liquor.
The implications behind this establishment actually having at least one bottle of Whyren's Reserve meant that they must've had contact with the Republic at one time or another despite being well and truly beyond the outer rim. Perhaps, Raile thought, he'd be able to find help. The other Jedi was as much a welcome surprise as the liquor, perhaps he would have news...maybe he would know what was going on in the Republic. For the first time in months, Raile feels hopeful as he drinks, silently watching the room and listening.
-
Keshin smirks a bit, noting Corliss' somewhat defensive reaction. "Touchy, touchy. It must be you who initiated this whole mess. Or at least you're involved somehow. You ought to pick less psychotic friends, rebel. I didn't shoot your buddy for the heck of it, by the way. He was trying to attack me. Either way, that's fine. I'll avoid the entire Peace Movement as targets as long as the goods are coming through. And since you're talking to the newbie, I'll avoid you in general."
Keshin waves nonchalantly and locates the front of the Bar, calmly sitting down next to the Bartender. <Okay, no rebellion members and no Zorish. That is half our clientele. What do we do?>
<Well, somebody in here's gotta want someone dead. Hard to find a dry spot in a Bar like this.>
<Please. I think we might have hit one.>
Keshin lets out an annoyed sigh. It would happen. Either things would get crazy, or he would find someone to talk to. It had been a few days, and the Bar couldn't go that long without exploding. Once it did, they'd almost certainly find work. Chaos attracted bounty hunters. ****************************************************************************************
Mar looks up and frowns slightly as another brown-robed person passed by. He wasn't precisely sure what bothered him about those....people, other than their status as magic-users. There were plenty of supernaturally capable individuals in the Bar, including himself. Perhaps it was their apparent aura control, which suggested he could not manipulate them so easily. Despite his newfound sanity, he still only had access to the information he had brought with him.
"Chardonnay," he muttered carelessly. He'd check out the patrons in a moment----first, his wine. It had been hours since his last glass, and that bothered him. He wondered where his Precious had gone, and why only her stupid flunky was there.
-
Now that Keshin was gone, Derrel could continue his conversation with Mike. He did have a couple of topics he wanted to talk about, and he figured Keshin would be the easier one.
"So who is that lady with? She blackmailing you guys or something?" He asked quietly without looking at Keshin, so she wouldn't tell he was talking about her.
-
Corliss hesitates in the midst of starting the sketched, black-and-white game of Pong.
<<Someone's hailing the ship,>> he murmurs curiously. His tone flattens. <<An Andalite signal.>> Inside the pool the readout gives nothing more detailed than that.
Hoping perhaps it is who he thinks it is, he answers the hail. His ultrasonic voice translates into a textual readout.
This is Corliss Three-Eight-Two. Who is this?
"Thank goodness for small favours," Mike snaps, watching Keshin stalk off toward the bar.
He turns sourly back toward Derrel and Illim. "None of your bloody business, mate, it's a long story and I don't want to get into it. Suffice it to say she's not exactly a friend, but not exactly an enemy, either." He punctuates his irritation with a long draught of beer.
-
The Andalite hail cuts through Terenia's mid-game laughter abruptly. She had actually managed to forget about all of her stress for a brief moment, but now it came crashing back around her.
<You think it's Ossanlin?> she asks urgently. I was actually enjoying myself she thinks in wonder. I was having fun. When was the last time I had fun?
Zorish coughs, choking on his water. "I'm sorry," he says, setting the glass down and staring at Garreth with wide eyes, suddenly paying full attention. "Hundreds of thousand sapient citizens? How is that possible?" He ignores Garreth's own question, finding this information much more pertinent.
<<Impossible,>> he whispers internally to Tamora. <<A hundred thousand people on thousands of planets?>>
<<Maybe he's lying,>> Tamora suggests.
<<Maybe. But perhaps not...>>
-
<<No clue,>> Illim responds to Derrel's internal questions mildly. <<I'm going to chat for a sec, if you don't mind.>> And with that, he slides right into control of his new host.
"Hey," he murmurs to Mike, Derrel's countenance immediately sliding into an easy grin. "Derrel's been driving a while; thought I'd take back over for a few." He slides into a seat at the table and leans back, elbow draped casually over the back. "He's inquisitive, hope it's not bothering you."
Serid shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "My own people are... not blameless," he murmurs to Simon, folding his hands on the tabletop. "I will admit such a thing. War is complex, and I imagine that intergalactic relations remain difficult, even in times of peace." He sighs, shaking his head. "In any case, if you wish to negotiate directly with the rebellion, I cannot help you."
-
"Okay." Derrel said. "It kind of bothers me the way Corliss treats Efaen. Does he treat any other non Yeerks like that, or does he just treat Andalites that aren't Ossanlin like dirt? Look, neither she or I are joining this rebellion because we really want to. It's just that we don't want to go home or join the Empire. We don't want to join the Empire because we don't want to be treated like property, which is pretty much how Corliss has been treating Efaen. I'm getting some mixed signals here." Derrel said before Illim took over.
"Alright. Thanks anyway." Simon said. He left the table, and took a look around. A few people had walked in while he was talking. He settled back down to his own table and watched the crowd. He wondered who the guy in the worn uniform was, but he didin't seem to be in a happy mood just now.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin reads the text response with some befuddlement...the only explanation was that the text was pool-originating...and the only explanation was that Corliss was not in Mike.
<Yes, I'm simply letting you know that I will be beginning the procedure upon Terenia shortly. Efaen and I are currently on our way to the Skimmer. We will be there shortly. Please prepare your med-bay and let Terenia know.>
-
Corliss listens to the reply with a mixture of emotions. Elation and excitement for Terenia's procedure, fear, and frustrated irritation.
She's heard you, Ossanlin, comes the text reply,but I'm afraid I can't prepare the med bay at the moment. I'm in the pool. If I unlock the ship for you, can I trust you to know what to do?
He pauses before adding, More pertinently, can I trust Efaen?
Mike smiles into his beer. "Don't worry, Derrel, you won't be treated like cattle," he says. "I can assure you of that."
He looks up as Illim takes control. "Nah, mate, it's only natural he wants to know what he's getting into." Mike huffs a laugh. "That's more than most of us got, before all this, you know. Reckon you'll fit in just fine."
Mike starts a little as his link trills. He pats his uniform and fishes out his link. "Sorry, half a moment here." He brings up the holoscreen.
Myitt glares at him on the flickering visual. "Where the hell are you?" she snaps. "I'm almost home."
Mike raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Yeah, erh, it's Mike, love. Corliss is having a bit of a feed. You got there fast."
"Time distortion," Myitt says off-handedly. "Probably only a few hours' worth. Just get your butts back here, Reven wants to handle the new recruits. Like, pronto."
Mike shrugs. "He's already talked to a few of them, he can wait another bloody day," he says, heat rising in his cheeks. He loved Myitt almost as much as Corliss did, but she had a way of irritating Mike himself that never seemed to faze her brother quite as much.
-
Illim's eyebrows shoot skyward and he grins at the sound of Tara's familiar voice. <<There she is,>> he declares to Derrel, without explanation.
He leans over Mike's shoulder. "Hello again, Myitt," he interrupts the conversation in Derrel's most cheerful tone. "It's Illim again, but now with a shiny new host. Reven told you I'm gonna be tagging along with your bro?"
Serid nods and folds his arms against his chest, watching Simon go with a sigh. His eyes drift back towards Illim, who now seems enthralled with the human's comm link. How much longer? he wonders, his thoughts drifting to the Andalite War Prince.
-
<<No man, I think someone slipped you a clunker, hoping you wouldn't hold out for a better deal.>> Derrel said, joking about the fact that he was a scrawny dirty man. Poor Corliss and Mike, trapped between a rock and a hard place. Maybe we could slip Mr. Ossanlin an energy drink or two.>>
-
Garreth was amusedly surprised by Zorish's reaction to his response. She didn't respond at all to his inquiry, she merely began a new line of questioning. He took in a breath to respond, until he felt a disturbance in the Force. It was someone reaching out to sense others. Another Force-sensitive was now here at the cantina. Garreth ignored the feeling and began answering Zorish's questions, "Yes, it has been this way before recorded history. How many planets in your galaxy contain sapient creatures?"
It was after this, he felt the presence grow. A cloaked figure entered the bar. The robes were obviously Jedi. Garreth became elated at the sight of another Jedi. The Jedi lowered his hood and had shown his face. This particular Jedi wasn't familiar to him. Hopefully this "anomaly" didn't bring him from another time. It would be good to not have to worry about causality in regards to Time. Conversing with this comrade would be much easier.
Not wanting to be rude, he returns to his conversation with Zorish, however continues to sense the Jedi's movements. He follows up his question, "There can't be that many seeing your reaction to my statement.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin sighs a moment before sending a reply. <I can't say I'm an old hand at Yeerk script...I know enough, but I cannot say I'm particularly well-versed in Yeerkish medical terminology. And I was under the assumption that you trusted neither of us. I will not harm Terenia or yourself and Efaen is under my command, she will not disobey me, but I would really prefer it if you could prepare the facilities yourself. I suppose I could carry Terenia to the Mirage and use facilities I am familiar with if you both would rather. In fact that would probably be a better solution, but I was under the impression that Terenia would be uncomfortable aboard my ship.>
-
Claxter finished approaching the two. they hadn't responded to him, and Ossanlin was talking into the communicator. He stood quietly nearby, and listened. He gave Efaen a friendly acknowledgement.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods to Claxter as he waits for Corliss' response. He opens a second hail to Serid's communicator on a secondary frequency.
-
I trust you, insofar as my brother trusts you, comes the succinct reply.
<<Terenia?>> he asks. <<What's the verdict?>>
Myitt raises an eyebrow, squinting and leaning towards her screen, inspecting Derrel.
"Yeah? A new host," she replies skeptically. "Huh. You could do better." She sits back and throws her hands up. "Whatever, like I said, Reven's waiting for all of you guys. I'm not your ****in' truant officer. Quit drinking and get back here."
Mike laughs. "Look who's talking, love."
Myitt favors Mike with a deprecating smirk. "I never drink and drive." She gives a little wave and ends the transmission.
-
<<I want to stay here,>> Terenia says, noting with dismay the way her thought-speak voice catches with nervousness. <<But if that's not possible, then yeah, whatever. I'll do whatever. ****. This is actually happening.>>
She disengages from the computer, leaving Corliss to send back the response at his own discretion. Instead she swims her small, Yeerk body away from the computer station and in small, tight circles around the pool, trying to expel the sudden onslaught of nervous energy that has overcome her. I think if I had a stomach I would throw up right now, she muses, wondering for the umpteenth time whether she is doing the right thing or not.
<<Corliss, I want you to be there with Mike,>> she says, coming to an abrupt halt. <<I want you to be able to stop them if they...I don't know, if he turns out to just be another lying Andalite with his own motives.>>
<<Hello Claxter,>> Efaen greets privately, not wanting to disrupt Ossanlin's transmission. <<We are preparing to initiate the procedure with Terenia. I believe that I will be departing with the rebels soon afterwards.>>
"The number of inhabitants isn't known," Zorish responds, licking suddenly dry lips. "There are areas of the galaxy where even we Yeerks cannot go. But within the reaches of our Empire, no, there is a fraction of that. Perhaps a dozen planets that boast sapience, and a few nomadic races. Most are useless as hosts, for various reasons. A hundred thousand..." he trails off, shaking his head in wonder.
<<You think we should tell the Empire?>> Tamora asks.
<<Not yet,>> Zorish says. <<If this is true, if this place could lend us access to an entire universe of viable hosts, there would be a very large promotion in store for me. Our continued safety would be all but impossible to destroy.>>
<<Why wouldn't you tell then?>>
<<Because our direct commander is an egotistical maniac who would take the glory for himself. Besides, the Empire has followed enough hopeful leads that turned out to be useless. They will want proof.>>
Zorish exhales deeply to calm his suddenly jazzed senses. "Tell me about this universe you come from," he asks Garret, his eyes snapping back into focus as he shifts his conversation outward. "It sounds quite different from my own."
-
Garreth begins to sense his conversation partner's blood rise with adrenaline. A hunger had arisen within her. Her new singular focus of hearing about his Galaxy unnerved him. A sapient parasite that breeds in the hundreds with each cycle, surrounded by a small number of host choices, learns of millions of potential hosts. He replies with a disarming smile, "But I know so little of your kind. I've talked about myself so much; and you seem to be dodging my questions." He added the last sentence with a teasing charm, raising his scarred eyebrow playfully. He wanted to try to divert the conversation without need of the Alter practices. The woman was becoming less inebriated, and his skills were not as honed as he would need. Though if it became necessary, he would certainly attempt it.
-
Derrel made no response to Myitt's comment. He was used to people being unimpressed with him.
<<I'm glad I could speak with you again before leaving. You'll be in communication with Prince Ossanlin, I'm sure, so you could feel free to talk to me if you wanted to.>> Claxter felt like reaching over and kissing her again, but he didn't. Part of him hoped she'd change her mind at the last minute, but she probably wouldn't. <<After all, I doubt you'll find any friends over there, but I'll be willing to talk.>>
-
Ossanlin, Terenia would like the procedure to be performed here, with Mike and me present, Corliss replies. If you would give me a moment to hail Mike?
Without waiting for an answer he trills his own comm link, sitting on the table in front of Mike.
-
Terenia resumes her nervous swimming, running through a mental laundry list of all the possible ways this supposed procedure could go awry. Many of the scenarios she creates in her mind only fuel her anxiety, which begins to turn into frustration.
<<Calm down,>> she orders herself sternly.
<<I hardly expect to be granted conversational privileges,>> Efaen says. <<But thank you for the offer. It is good to know that there is a friendly tail on the other side.>> She offers him a small smile before turning her attention back to Ossanlin, waiting for him to detail their next actions.
"You have barely talked about yourself at all," Zorish says flatly, leaning back. He watches Garreth critically for a moment, then twists Tamora's lips into a tight-lipped smile. "I apologize if I have neglected to fulfill your curiosities. What would you like to know?"
-
<<I believe I would like to watch the procedure out of curiosity, but if it's happening inside the ship I may be required to just wait out here. I hope this works with minimal discomfort for you and our Prince.>>
-
Salem pulled his persona scanner from his pocket and clicked it at the other robed newcomer that'd walked through the door. There were two of them here now.
"Some kind of monk convention going on," he mused. There was something... he closed his eyes and tried to 'see' them with his newfound sense. In a place as crowded as the bar, there was a lot more going on than there had been in his little ship with only Mar around. The bright 'souls' of the bar's patrons were fairly easy to spot, even though his view of them still felt shaky. Those two seemed to have a sort of aura emanating from them, as well. So did some of the bar's other patrons, he noticed, but in different ways. Mar, in particular... he had no 'soul,' of course, and the aura didn't seem anywhere near the same, but the way the waving tendrils of black-within-black... something... behaved around the two newcomers was interesting indeed. They seemed to avoid the auras of the newcomers altogether, but seemed to grow more frantic near the edges of the auras.
Salem shook his head. He had no idea what the hell any of that meant. On a whim, he turned his attention behind him, and out the bar's door. He delighted in how easily he was able to feel the area behind him without having to turn his head to do it. He could learn to use this sense properly yet. Maybe this sense would allow him to spot Rathien... but either he wasn't outside the door, or it didn't work through the walls of the bar. Given the what he knew of the nature of the bar and this sense, he didn't know what was possible. He thought he could almost make out three auras in the shipyard... but he couldn't be sure. Too far away, or too weak. There was no way he could pinpoint where they were, either. Not used enough to this sense to properly associate it with his other senses. The being right beside him... that was Al. The android appeared to be a brighter spot in the darkness... but his 'soul' didn't feel the same as most of the other patrons. Again, Salem would have to give himself time to figure out what any of this meant. Jeeze, me with this sense is like a toddler with a holocamera, he thought.
He opened his eyes. Al was watching him with a look of amusement.
"What?" he said defensively.
"Look on your face, dude. Like a constipated weasel," Al said with a grin.
Salem aimed to punch Al in the shoulder, but the android easily dodged and laughed.
"I wonder if that's the real Keshin," Salem said, nodding at the hunter across the bar. He watched as Keshin left the conversation with Mike. That was good. He wanted to avoid Corliss if at all possible.
"Oh, right, I almost forgot. Real Keshin's back," Al said, smiling mischievously.
Without another word, Salem made his way across the bar, smirking at Al over his shoulder. He sat down next to Keshin.
"Hey," he said, facing forward, to the shelves of various bottles behind the bartender. "Back so soon? I figured that useless rebellion would keep you out of this place for a while." He smiled and turned to Keshin, "It's good to see you, though." Something... he briefly closed his eyes... something about the aura Joanne gave off...
Al watched as Salem walked off, then shrugged and glanced around the room. Zorish and the newcomer with whom she was sitting... they were talking. Both of them seemed to be extremely interested in whatever was being talked about... and both looked like they were fairly calm, but Al had been a people-android for longer than most of the bar's patrons had been alive. He was quite good at reading people. Both of their calm demeanors were a result of training, or practice, or experience. They were tense, and might benefit from having their conversation interrupted.
Besides, he'd kind of enjoyed Zorish's company earlier. He walked over and, without waiting for an invitation, plopped down in one of the chairs near them.
"Aloha, and may the Kandrona shine and strengthen you, and all that jazz," he said to Zorish with a smile. "Name's Al, pleased to meet you," he said, holding out a hand for Garreth to shake. He turned back to Zorish, "Nice to see you loosening up a bit," he said, nodding at the Yeerk's glass. "Any luck with that sister situation of yours?"
-
Serid looks down at his trilling comm with surprise and picks it up just as, unbeknownst to him, Corliss has placed his conversation with the War Prince on hold.
<<Warrior Serid here, sir,>> the nothlit replies, his dark eyes searching the holoscreen, waiting for the Andalite's face to appear, the delay happening rather frequently with the outmoded, stolen technology. <<How may I serve?>>
Illim laughs as the comm between Mike and Myitt is cut, and he gives the Brit a sideways grin. "She is so damned cute," the Yeerk pronounces happily.
<<Hah, no, you're alright, my friend,>> Illim assures his host in response to his self-deprecation. <<Not sure I'm the most ideal Yeerk for you and all, but I think the partnership is working well enough for the moment. Yeah?>>
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin opens the transmission with Serid. <We will be proceeding with Terenia's operation shortly, Warrior. If you should care to watch, please come out to the shipyard at your earliest convenience.>
He turns his main eyes to Claxter. <I do not know how much room there is inside the Skimmer's sick-bay. I would rather use my own facilities but I doubt Terenia would agree to that. If there is room, you may watch, though I require Efaen's presence at the least. I'm certain Corliss and Michael will wish to look on as well. And Serid because of his unique situation. If there is room.>
-
<I will wait out here, my Prince. My presence would probably hinder more than help, though the event could be interesting to watch. Good luck, to both of you.> Claxter said.
<<I do believe it is. I have no complaints so far.>> Derrel said. It helped that he tried not to think of the less appealing details like Illim being a worm wrapped around his brain, and just focused on the fact that he was a good guy.
-
Mike raises his eyebrows. "Like Corliss said, mate, just don't let her hear you say that." He's still grinning when his comm trills again.
"Oh, hell," he sighs, tapping up the holoscreen. "Yeah?"
He blinks at the lack of response, and then realizes it's a text-based hail. His smile fades.
"Hey, uh, sorry," he murmurs hesitantly, standing up and leaving his beer. He swiftly closes the holoscreen with a swipe of his hand. "Corliss sort of needs me. You know." He taps the side of his head. "It's the whole procedure with Terenia. Tell you what, reckon you should come with us. You want to prove you're trustworthy? This'll clinch the deal, if you don't shoot anyone in a room full of the blue and the helpless."
Without waiting for Illim or Derrel he steps sideways away from the table, heading for the door.
-
"Oh, I'm not afraid of her response," Illim quips with a laugh. "And yeah, I reckon I can keep my trigger finger under control," he rolls his eyes with a smirk, standing up, his chair scraping loudly along the floorboards. He follows Mike a few feet behind.
<Yes, sir,> Serid gives a calm nod, despite the abrupt and surprising jump in his heart rate. He cuts the transmission, standing from his seat and turning towards the door, falling in line behind Mike and Illim. "I presume you are attending this spectacle as well?" he murmurs to the rebel and rebel-to-be as they make their way past rickety tables and chairs.
-
Simon noticed three people just get up and walk out after getting some kind of call. One of them being Serid, and the other being the person with the old Imperial uniform. He decided to investigate this, and watched them. Once they exited, he'd make his way to the door, and see which way they were heading. Unfortunately he didn't have a stealth morph, so following them may not be really easy.
<<Tell Serid I said hey.>> Derrel said. He didn't know if he wanted to be there or not, but if Mike wanted them to prove themselves, he'd be there.
-
Mike glances back at Serid in surprise. "What is this, a bloody party? Who invited you, Ossanlin?"
He pushes open the big creaking wooden door and holds it open for his friends with a boot.
-
"Yes," Serid responds to Mike flatly.
Illim turns his head to smile at his former host. "Hello, by the way. From myself and Derrel."
The stare with which Serid regards Illim is stoic, but the question in his expression is clear: Why bother to say hello when none of us has departed yet? Then the nothlit shakes his head with a sigh, as if berating himself for not expecting as much from Illim--always one for wasting time and distractions.
The two men pass through the doorway, emerging into the gravel-pockmarked land just outside the Bar.
-
<<It seems Mr. Spock is only with us for business. Not pleasure.>>
Simon made his way casually towards the door, looking out through it as he left it cracked open. Hopefully the shade would conceal him if they looked back directly into the gap. It looked like they were heading towards the shipyard.
-
Mike trudges along, passing Illim and Serid and hurrying along in the direction of the Skimmer.
<<Mike, I do wish you would answer your damn hail,>> Corliss mutters irritably. He sighs, remaining connected to the computer, which makes it difficult for him to talk to Terenia in sonar.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin sees multiple people depart from the bar, Mike at the forefront, an dhe makes his way in the same direction. It was quite a procession to say the least.
-
Garreth was about to repeat his earlier questions when the life-less lifeform sat beside them and offered its greetings. The particular greeting it gave was foreign, which was to be expected, but it seemed to assume that its greeting would be recognized. It gave its name as "Al" and extended its hand for Garreth to shake. Human mannerisms, Human humor, Human respect, however this being is far from Human. 'Al'... Could it be an actual name, or perhaps its a convenient naming of an Artificial Intelligence construct. To reciprecate the polite gesture, Garreth took hold of the being's hand. It felt as though he was squeezing a fleshly hand, though forcefields could be manipulated to simulate the appropriate give and take of the pressure of Human muscles. The "voice" with which it spoke was surprisingly Human as well. No grating or mechanical sound what-so-ever. Though many droids can replicate Human speech perfectly; the mechanical tone is programmed so they "naturally" sound like what they are, a machine.
Garreth lets go of the lifeform's hand and nods his head in a bow saying, "Greetings to you as well... Al," it gave a name, it would be rude not to use it, "though I know not of what a 'Kandrona' is." When "Al" spoke of Zorish's sister, he tilted his head to look at Zorish, "'Sister'? Would this be one of your hundreds of brethren; or is he speaking of your host's sibling?"
Garreth was greatful for the change of topic; perhaps this interruption would allow him to excuse himself and converse with his fellow Jedi; however he was still interested in finding more about the Yeerks' ascension into space, and he was also curious toward what exactly the lifeform named "Al" seemed to be. Dispite all appearances, this life-less lifeform was not Human.
-
Zorish heaves a slightly melodramatic sigh. "My host's sibling," he responds impatiently. "And no, there has been no further development. She is not my primary concern here anyways, just an unfortunate twist of space and time. She should not even exist. As it is, all her presence is doing is upsetting my host."
<<Perhaps it is for the best,>> Efaen offers, following Ossanlin. <<I do not know what this procedure will entail. You may not want to watch.>>
Terenia finally calms herself enough to return to the computer console and reconnect. Her "voice" is shaky. <<Sorry,>> she murmurs to Corliss. <<I guess I'm just nervous.>>
-
Al ****ed his head at Garreth- the man hadn't given his name. That wasn't unusual, in Al's experience. Most Furka-goers didn't expect to be able to remember much by the next morning, so often giving names was a waste of breath. He definitely wasn't Yeerk, though, having not recognized the word "Kandrona."
He shrugged, "Yeerk thing. No big. So what brings you to this little bar?" He paused, "Ah, I've got something I think you'll both enjoy."
He waved the bartender over and ordered a round of drinks for all three of them- a particular Turken whiskey- made from distilled Turken- that was full of flavor but a bit short on alcohol. He wasn't about to try to get these two drunk... or in Zorish's case, drunker. She already seemed a bit tipsy, at least.
He turned to Zorish and smiled, "Yeah, well, depending on how you look at it, this whole bar is just one unfortunate twist in space and time. At least the drink selection is good."
-
Keshin notices Salem rather quickly and smiles in a casual way. He was actually glad to see someone in this Bar for a change. This man had been crazy enough to hide them onboard his ship. "Hey, come on. Take a load off. You did us a very big favor back when most of the Space Bar wanted us dead. We've been....fine. The rebellion can only disrupt us for so long, and to us it's been weeks. If you need any help, you know who to ask."
<You sure we should be offerin' this bloke that?>
<Joanne, he saved our lives. The least we can do is buy him a drink.>
<I dunno. He seems to get tangled up in problems a lot. 'Bout as bad as Terenia, really. I mean how the 'ell did he get mixed up with us earlier?>
<Nobody else is that bad.>
<Point taken. But watch it, Kess.>
Keshin adjusts himself so that he's looking through his peripheral vision at the Bar door. Just in case. His gun was ready, but Salem seemed ready to slow down regardless. Joanne was being paranoid.
***********************************************************************************************************
Mar takes a long sip of glass as he glances at the Bar patrons. Salem the trader was busy with the bounty hunter, eliciting a groan from Mar. Almost everywhere there had been trouble, that bounty hunter had also been present. This suggested that bothering them wouldn't be a wise move: those two attracted nearly as many difficulties as Terenia. Mar's opinion on Terenia ranged from extremely amused to extremely irritated. She fed his lust for drama, certainly. But she complicated the lives of those that were important in various ways to him.
This train of thought is why he was surprised to spot two other people wearing Terenia's skin. He had the sense that this was an important detail----that either he'd met them briefly or someone had mentioned Terenia having a "sister." In his altered state, the details seemed less important. Still, someone with a regal bearing in uniform? Hmm. Mar frowned and sat up, wandering over to their table cautiously.
"Excuse me," stated the Highest, his expression unreadable. "You...resemble an irritant I have met. But you do not seem like her or her slave."
-
For a long while after her companions departed Ewa simply propped her head on her hand and stared. Her features settled into an expression of boredom relieved only by a calculating tilt to her eyes. Superficially, she seemed to hide a sharp perusal of the bar's clientel, but her mind wandered its own paths with little attention to the scene. What is the point of all this? When I first got here it seemed badly structured, but now I wonder if there's any structure at all. There must be some kind of advantage to leaving things this way, but...... Ewa sighed and closed her eyes for a long moment. It would be nice to have at least one trustworthy person still here. The thought held more weariness than longing.
When she opened her eyes again she twitched her mouth into a half smirk. Life's always easier when amused. Now that she was paying attention she noticed that many of the patrons had left, leaving only smaller knots of conversation. Keshin was talking with the fake cowboy who must have returned at some point. Good idea. He seemed inclined to get on everyone's nerves. A larger group was forming over at one of the booths. Ewa recognized Al and the blond subvisser. There was also a man in a brown cloak was new to her though. I wouldn't mind talking to Al again.
She was still on her way over when a vaguely familiar looking fop also joined the group. Ewa approached just in time to hear him address the group.
"Excuse me," stated the Highest, his expression unreadable. "You...resemble an irritant I have met. But you do not seem like her or her slave."
Ewa gave him a brief side-long look, but his face seemed emotionless so she turned away again. "Subvisser," she nodded respectfully to the blond woman, then politely to the man in the brown robe. "Hello again," she smiled at Al. She pulled a chair over next to him, twisted it around backwards and sat with her arms propped up on the back of the chair. Her eyes traveled between the Subvisser and the fop expectantly.
-
When "Al" mentioned the greeting he used was of Yeerk origin, Garreth nodded in understanding. The bartender placed three drinks on the table and shortly after, two more people joined the group. The first to join was an odd looking fellow and held an even more odd accent. The thing that bothered Garreth the most was nothing visible. This man "felt" wrong, dangerous. Garreth looked over him primarily with his milky-white eye. The stranger's aura was covered in darkness. This was beyond anything having to do with the Force; it wasn't a taint, or a corruption. It was almost as if he were pure darkness himself. Garreth swallowed hard and stood saying to "Al" and Zorish, "Excuse me, however this booth seems to have gotten rather," his eyes darted instinctually toward the strange man, "crowded." With that said, he walked away from the table.
He walked by the woman as she gathered a chair to sit by "Al" and gave her a slight bow as he passed saying, "Excuse me." He walked to the bar and sat next to the Jedi that had entered not long after himself. He asked the bartender for another Tarisian Ale. The bartender placed his order before him. He raised the drink before his lips and instead of drinking it, he spoke aloud so the other Jedi could hear him, "Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity..." After speaking, he looked toward the Jedi, though he didn't turn to actually look at him, awaiting a response.
-
~Raile~
Raile senses the presence of the other as he nears. Despite himself he tenses, but then forces his muscles to relax again. Though they had been betrayed, it hadn't been Jedi that had killed his former master.
He keeps his eyes on his drink as the stranger begins reciting the Jedi mantra, albeit the less-popular version. Perhaps he is older than he appears, or perhaps he had merely had a long-lived and aged master as a padawan.
"There is no chaos, there is harmony...there is no death, there is the Force." He finishes the mantra and allows his eyes to travel up to look at the Jedi who had taken the seat next to him. He does his best to control his emotion...a knight was expected to be serenity incarnate, even in the heat of battle. His efforts are somewhat in vain though as the smallest of smiles breaks across his face before the mask of calm returns. The joy and relief at hearing those words from another is exceptionally profuse. "I am glad to hear those words beyond the outer rim, especially under the circumstances."
-
Garreth smiled when the mantra was finished. The Jedi had finished it with the standardized version. A good version, but Garretth had always preferred the original. Granted the version brought on by Master Ordan-Urr was a little easier to understand; but once understood, the original just felt more natural. After receiving the expected response, he turned and met the other Jedi's eyes. As he sat, it was his "bad" eye that looked upon him first. He could feel a slight battle with this Jedi's emotions, though he held himself together well. The Jedi spoke first and Garreth nodded in response. He replied, "Indeed. This is certainly a trying time. I sense for you especially." He extended his hand and said, "I am Garreth Rob of Dantooine. May I ask what troubles you so?"
-
~Raile~
Raile studies the other Jedi's face in detail and one of his eyes appears to be injured, a massive scar crossing his face in its vicinity, but he senses no pain coming from his comrade. An old wound apparently. He extends his hand and grasps the other's forearm. "I am Raile Merced...originally of Corellia." He pauses, assuming strict control of his emotions before going on. This was supposed to be ingrained in the very nature of a Knight of course, the fact that he sometimes still has to make a conscious effort at control is a sign Raile sees that he is as yet unworthy of the rank of Knight conferred upon him by the Council.
He holds the other Jedi's gaze as he speaks. "You...don't know?" He furrows his brow. "We cannot return to Coruscant, or perhaps even the outer rim. The Republic itself has turned against the Jedi. Our clone battallion turned on us without waring. My old master returned to the Force in order to buy the time necessary for my escape. I had nearly made it back to Coruscant when the recall transmission from the temple changed to warn away all Jedi from returning. They hunt us now...I was found even on Dantooine." He falls silent, waiting to hear his comrade's reaction to the news.
-
When Raile mentioned the planet from which he was born, Garreth smiled and said, "Ah, one of the five brothers." Then he began to tell him what had him conflicted. Garreth's face turned concerned when he asked if he knew of the current situation. When he spoke of the Republic turning on the Jedi, Garreth became interested. He then spoke of a "Clone battallion", and Garreth's face turned to confusion. He listened intently to the rest of his story slightly diconnected. His face returned to being neutral. At the end of his story, Garreth asked, "What year is it for you? As for myself, it is 21,080 After the Galactic Constitution. I fear you may be from a different Time than I. I don't know of any "clone battallion"s. The Republic is currently under attack by the Mandalorians, they're currently asking for our help; they would only suffer more by betraying us."
-
Zorish flinches as there is a sudden influx of undesired occupants at his table. Clearly the patrons of this bar did not understand when one wanted to be left alone.
<<And so many questions and comments about that damned sister of yours,>> Zorish sneers inwardly. <<She must have caused quite a disturbance.>>
<<She always was the troublemaker in the family,>> Tamora offers dryly, trying to push back the part of her that still desperately wants to figure out how her sister could be here, how she could be alive, and how the hell she could be a Yeerk, of all things.
"You are perceptive," Zorish says to Mar, sneering only a little. "I presume you are referring to Teresa, or as it seems she is known here, Terenia. Last I checked she was aboard one of the Skimmer class ships outside." Her upper lip curls slightly in frustration as the one occupant he was beginning to gain interest in - Garreth - slid out of the booth and excused himself.
<<I shall need to investigate his universe further,>> he murmurs, making a mental note to approach the Jedi once he had more full control of his faculties. He returns his attention to Mar. "Everyone seems to have something to say about that idiot child," he says, repeating his earlier thoughts. "Why? What importance does she have here?"
When Ewa joins them he nods at her, but says nothing. He does scoot the glass of alcohol offered by Al in her direction, though. He has no intention of drinking any further.
-
As the group made their way to the shipyard, Simon exited the bar and followed by going from cover to cover. at least, what cover he could find. He wondered what he would say if one or more of them wound up being rebels. Yeah, I was just stalking you guys so I could maybe have a friendly chat. That's not creepy or anything, is it? From a host's perspective, it was important that things go the rebel's way. This assumed the Yeerks would actually win.
-
~Raile~
Raile keeps the mask of serenity on his face, but his feelings drop as his comrade speaks. Another time? The Mandalorians? What's worse, Raile feels nothing disturbed within this man's mind. He believes everything he is saying. What was this?
"I'm afraid I...don't understand. Another time? It is 3636 after the Treaty of Coruscant...the Mandalorians have not been a true threat for nearly four thousand years...the Clones...make up the Grand Army of the Republic." He pauses...perhaps this Jedi had truly been beyond the outer rim for quite some time. "You truly know nothing of the war, or of the Separatists and their droid armies? Did you not feel the tremors in the Force as our brothers were betrayed and murdered?"
-
Garreth shook his head and said, "It hasn't happened yet for me. You come from a Time 4,000 years after an event that has yet to happen. There is no Treaty of Coruscant, no Separatists, no Clone Army; not during my Time. This establishment in which we now sit is apparently located within some Space/Time anomaly. I met a woman under the control of a sapient parasite, and she had never heard of the Hutts."
-
~Raile~
Raile checks himself again...he had spoken in a manner that might be construed as rude. "Forgive me Master Rob, I spoke in haste." He reaches out with the Force...he stretches through and around the planetoid, and feels a strange twisting. An odd feeling for a place, there was certainly something off about it. Perhaps this Jedi was telling the truth.
"The Treaty happened after the successful Sith offensive that sacked Coruscant. The Republic was all but forced to accept their demands...it was a dark time." He pauses a moment in thought. If this place truly did intersect multiple times...perhaps he could change the course...but he dismisses the thought before it has a chance to fully resolve. Attempting to alter the flow of time...that sounded like a Dark Side goal.
"Now that you have brought my attention to this place, it does seem odd...twisted in some fashion. I am slightly disturbed by the fact that I did not discern the phenomenon beforehand." He closes his eyes a moment. "Dantooine...you said it was your home? Master Windu defeated the Separatists there and it has remained largely unaffected since. That was one of the reasons I chose to hide there, but I should've foreseen that a planet so relatively peaceful and one with a history of Jedi sanctuary would be one of the first locations for bounty hunters to search. A beautiful world." Raile falls silent, his thoughts on the possibility that he might never see that world or his own Corellia ever again...and on what he had been forced to do on Dantooine in order to survive. He wasn't yet sure of this Jedi, yet his words and thoughts felt open and truthful. "If you are truly as you say, from a period well into my past, this is surely a unique phenomenon. May I ask why you came so far outside the Outer Rim?"
-
<<It's all right,>> Corliss replies with a sigh. <<I suppose we'll just have to wait and see if Mike responds, although I am loath to keep Ossanlin waiting long.>>
"Computer, open exterior hatch," Mike calls, using the familiar Yeerkish phrase. "Extend ramp." The computer obeys, the hatchway melting away into the black living metal hull. With a hydraulic whir the ramp slides out of the threshold and touches the gravel lightly. The Skimmer's four plexi viewports glare at the little band like crimson eyes, set in the head of a ship fashioned after some bizarre mix of lobster and mosquito larva. Its leglike landing gears perch the Skimmer into a brooding crouch.
Mike looks back at the band, nodding approval at Ossanlin's and Efaen's presence. He whistles lowly. "Bloody hell, it's a party."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin watches Mike as well as the Skimmer as he opens the ship and then nods in their direction. He turns his main eyes on Efaen, sending her a private thought. <<Please assume Terenia's morph. It would be safer to do it now before boarding. If you wish for some privacy, I understand.>> He glances toward a few hulking shapes of old ships that would provide just that if Efaen should desire it.
-
Simon saw they made it to a particular ship. It had a Yeerk design to it, so it must be a rebel ship. Serid was obviously holding out on him, though he couldn't blame the guy. There were Andalites there, and he ducked behind a ship just as he thought one may have spotted him.
<I will not be entering the ship for this "party".> Claxter said. <I'm sure it will be crowded enough as it is.> He thought he caught someone looking at them. <Um, is there any reason you might be followed?> He asked. He didn't see the guy again, and considered investigating. Not that he had to. He wasn't on guard duty or anything.
<<Are you sure the two of you will be safe in there, Prince Ossanlin? This procedure could be exhausting for the both of you.>>
-
<<Yes, my Prince,>> Efaen responds privately. <<I require no privacy, but I will step away so that I do not alarm anyone.>>
She pulls back from the growing crowd, into the shadow of the Skimmer. It takes her a moment to concentrate on the morph; it is one she particularly loathes. But the changes begin and to anyone watching her natural estreen nature makes the process look more interesting and fluid than grotesque, as is usually the case with morphing. At the last minute, Efaen remembers to include the morphing outfit that Terenia found long ago, a black leotard that Efaen herself thinks is incredibly frivolous.
The process itself takes only about a minute and a half, and she emerges from the shadows with the physical appearance of a seventeen-year-old human female with long blonde hair and flat gray eyes that, at the moment, are wary.
<The process is complete,> Efaen states unnecessarily, continuing to use thought-speak rather than deal with the unnecessary burden of a mouth.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods both to Claxter and Efaen, keeping his thoughts to those two and Serid only. <Claxter, if anything goes wrong I think it would be best if you stayed just outside the Skimmer. I don't suspect Mike or Corliss of foul play, but my expectations have proven wrong in the past. If there are any ship defenses activated, you will remain unaffected and may act accordingly.>
He moves toward the ramp. <Please follow me Efaen, Serid.> He begins to mount the ramp behind Mike.
-
Mike leads the band inside, holding up a hand at the top of the ramp.
"Hold on, this thing is going to be a bit cramped with all of us in," he says, looking between Ossanlin, Efaen and Illim. "Just be careful once we're in the pool room, it's quite small."
He calls the lights on and makes a bee-line towards the door to the pool room, unsealing it. "Ossanlin, if you don't mind I'm going to hook up with Corliss before we make any decisions about medical equipment." He heads into the warm, humid pool room, and it takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dim light while he checks the pool parameters.
-
Mike had ignored Claxter and went inside, so he didn't know what would make someone want to follow him. He continued scanning the area to see if he could spot the Human, but didn't. He didn't want to leave his post unless Mike closed the hatch.
-
~Ossanlin~
<Of course,> He nods to Mike. <Just as I'm sure you and Corliss won't mind if we leave the exterior hatch open and all of your ship's intruder defenses unarmed.> His thought is wide enough to be heard throughout the ship.
-
Efaen ascends the Skimmer's ramp alongside Ossanlin, choosing to stand off to the side once on board. She keeps her back to the wall, eliminating the constant desire to look behind her and accomodate for the lack of stalk eyes. Clasping her hands behind her back she awaits further orders from Ossanlin, refusing to address Mike directly.
<That's Ossanlin,> Terenia says to Corliss unnecessarily, her thought-speak voice thick with anxiety.
-
Garreth nodded his head in response to Raile's apology, "It is understandable considering what you have experienced, Master Merced." It felt so odd being called "Master" by another Jedi. Sure a few civilians would call him that, but they couldn't really tell he was only a padawan at the time. He didn't let being called Master go to his head, as that would cloud his judgement and that could lead him towards the Dark Side. He continues, "Remember to be mindful of your emotions. If left unchecked, it can breed resentment and anger. We both know to what path that leads."
He lets the Knight alone as he feels for his environment. After he explains the Treaty of Coruscant, Garreth gives a moment to mourn for the future loss. As it is likely after his lifetime, there is no need to dwell on the defeat. The only war he need be focused on is The Mandalorian War currently waging in his own Time. "It is regrettable that such a thing may come to pass. I must ask you not to reveal to me anymore details of such events. Dealing with crossing Timelines can be very volatile. I'm certain vague tellings will do no harm, however too much information could prove dangerous."
After Raile mentions Dantooine being a beautiful planet, Garreth nods in agreement. When asked what had brought him beyond the rim, he replies, "I was actually heading toward Coruscant. My Hyperspace travel was interrupted by a Mandalorian Interdiction Field. Something must have gone wrong with the Nav computer, because I ended up here instead of over Serroco. I was on my way to inform the council about our Jedi comrades being captured by the Mandalorians. It very well be what we need to finally enter this war." He keeps his tone even and his emotions level as he speaks
-
Mike opens his mouth to answer, still standing at the pool room's holoscreen, when Corliss' synthesized voice rings through the cabin and the pool room alike.
"Yes, the ship's intruder defenses have been temporarily disabled," he says. "Welcome aboard, Ossanlin. Is the Andalite girl with you?"
"Hang on, you can find out for yourself. Illim's here, too," Mike calls, stepping away from the holoscreen and over to the metal edge of the raised pool. "Reckon you'll figure that out in half a moment, anyway," he mutters, leaning over the edge of the pool and gently touching his ear to the warm gray liquid.
Corliss disengages from the pool computer system. <<I suppose that's my cue,>> he says, a bit nervously, scrunch-thrusting away from the edge of the pool and towards Mike's familiar scent.
Mike winces as his Yeerk friend starts to slither back into his head.
-
Serid obeys Ossanlin, climbing the ramp after Efaen and standing beside her once on board. <<Efaen,>> he tells her privately, <<I am grateful for your participation in this procedure. I know you are likely only doing this for the War Prince's sake, but it gives me hope for my own prospects.>>
Illim follows Mike aboard, hands stuffed into Derrel's pockets. "Hope you don't mind me tagging along...?" he says to Ossanlin, raising his eyebrows with a smile and leaning casually against the hull wall. "My guess is we'll take off soon after this is done, and I don't wanna miss my ride to my new home."
-
~Ossanlin~
<Indeed she is, and already in morph. We are ready to begin.> Ossanlin stands calmly at the top of the ramp, waiting.
-
Simon had moved a bit so when he took another look, it wasn't from the same position as before. Everyone but one Andalite seemed to have entered the ship. The hatch was open, but guarded. He decided to come out and try talking to the Andalite.
"Hi there." He said as he walked up.
<So you have shown yourself. You're the more lighthearted Imperial.> Claxter said. He still didn't like the guy much.
"Yes. Actually my Yeerk is feeding, but I was wondering if this was a rebel ship."
Claxter remembered his agreement with Serid that he would try not to endanger the rebels. Though he had talked to Zorish for the sake of another Efaen, he didn't want to talk to this guy. <You shouldn't be here. There is a procedure going on that does not concern you, and directly afterwards most of the people in there will leave.>
"Oh, really? do you know of any other rebels who frequent this place?"
<I do, but there's no telling when they will show up again. Waiting for them would be a waste of your master's valuable time.>
"I don't really know how long he'll be staying, rebels or no rebels. I'd just like to talk with them because we share common goals."
<I'm afraid the particular rebel you'd want to talk to is neither trustworthy, nor eager to speak with strangers. Return to the bar.>
"Alright. I'm going." Simon said, and left.
-
Salem smiled and shook his head at Keshin. "As nice as it sounds to 'take a load off,' I don't think it's in the cards. This bar has a way of keeping things far too interesting." When Keshin offered their help, Salem paused for a moment. "Actually..."
He closed his eyes and tried to feel his way around the bar with his new sense. As far as he could tell, every 'mana-based soul' that he could feel corresponded to a visible person... except for those that corresponded to Yeerks. There was no reason to believe that someone might be listening in nearby. Still, there was always the chance he was missing something. It occurred to him that Mar appeared as simply a darkness within the darkness... was there any chance Rathien was the same way? Would he be able to feel him if he was?
The beeping in his skull remained steady.
"There's a hunter who's tracked me here," he began. He glanced around. Where had his 'briefcase' gotten off to? Actually... that was it, under his stool, wasn't it? It must have been kicked there by mistake at some point. Strange how nobody seemed to notice it until it was needed. This bar...
He picked up the case, cracked it open, and sent a few thought-speak commands to a device inside. After a moment, what appeared to be a miniature, solid version of Rathien appeared to float in the air above the case.
"This is Rathien," he said to Keshin. "He's Ildari. Tracked me here, but has so far neglected to actually attempt the kill, and I'm not entirely sure why. Good hunter. Patient, observant and thorough, but he has this sense of predestiny that makes him easier to surprise. Among other things, he has active camouflage that makes spotting him visually a challenge." He smirked and snapped the case shut again, causing the projection computer within to shut off and the image of Rathien to disappear. Would it be asking too much for Keshin to kill the hunter? It might. Hmm... might I make a lighter offer, then, with flexible pay options?
"All I'd really need, if you could, is an extra pair of eyes. Just enough for early warning, if he does make a move. Try to figure out what his game is here. Although..." he looked back to the shelf of wines and liquors behind the bar, "if some... fatal accident... were to befall him, there might be some additional money to be had. In fact..." he glanced to his left. The bartender was there, well within earshot, but was absently wiping a once-silver tankard with his dirty bar towel as if nothing were going on. Funny how easy it was to stop thinking of him as a person. Salem found himself wondering, not for the first time, what the bartender's true nature was.
He shook his head and started again, "In fact, it might be even better if he were to simply fall unconscious. I've a little present for him."
Al grinned when Mar and Ewa approached the table. "Mar," he said, nodding at the man. "Hello again, Ewa," he said to her with a smile. He then proceeded to introduce everyone at the table, gesturing at each person as he said their name. "Ewa, Mar. Mar, Zorish. Zorish, Ewa." He paused for a moment to let them think he was done, then continued, "Zorish, Mar. Mar, Ewa. Ewa, Mar. Everyone, me. Me, everyone. Everyone plus me..." he looked after Garreth, who was by now across the room and locked in conversation with the other robed man. He hesitated, to make it as painfully obvious as possible that he was coming up with this on the spot, "Um... that's... brother... Jeffry. He's a monk. From..." he frowned as he looked at the two robed men across the room, then looked back at the table, grinning "Planet Needs-Help-With-Fashion-Sense. You know how monks are. Always on the go." He rolled his eyes melodramatically and laughed.
He turned to Zorish and shrugged, "It's a small community," he glanced at Ewa. She'd called Zorish a Sub-Visser? "Think of it as visiting a small town, Sub-Visser. You'll have to forgive us local yokels for being curious about someone who so perfectly resembles our very own Terenia." He took a sip from his own glass, then nudged the full one left by Garreth towards Mar. "If I might ask, what would you rather discuss?"
-
"Your Terenia?" Zorish raises his eyebrows. "I did not realize that the patrons of this bar were so fond of her. That seems odd, considering that she has been more or less confined to one of the ships." He shrugs. "No matter. I really don't care about Terenia or her importance here. The person I truly wish to speak with is, apparently, not present." He sighs, wondering if he should just cut the conversation short and return to his ship. At this rate, it didn't seem likely that Myitt would ever show up, and the occupants of the bar were becoming increasingly irritating.
Terenia also disconnects from the computer system, moving away from the edge of the pool. She sends a private message to both Corliss and Mike. <<Don't let Ossanlin get this wrong,>> she says, her mind filled with a million terrifying scenarios. Vaguely, inanely, she wonders what Mike will think about her conversation with Corliss about them being in a relationship. Somehow this thought only makes her more desperate for the procedure to be a success. <<Please.>>
Efaen glances at Serid, uncomfortable with his closeness and the fact that they are both in human form for the time being. <<Assuming that this procedure is successful,>> she says stiffly, <<It is my hope that you will be able to regain your own true form as a result.>>
She turns her attention back to Ossanlin, waiting for Corliss and Mike to emerge from the pool room so that she can receive her orders.
-
Corliss straightens Mike's back with a wince. "Christ," he breathes, wiping pool fluid from Mike's ear with the back of his hand. "How much did you bloody drink, mate?"
He blinks, caught in the middle of several thought-speech messages ringing through his head, plus the onslaught of Mike's most recent memories.
Then he clears his throat, realizing Ossanlin is waiting for him in the main cabin. He walks as confidently as he can toward the ship's hatch, clasping his hands together and trying for a winning smile.
"Right, erh," he says, looking between the three Andalites and Illim. "Medical supplies. I'll show you to the storage room and we can pick out what you need, Ossanlin." He eyes Efaen cautiously. "Alone, if you'd be so kind."
Corliss heads towards the storage room door, adjacent to the pool room at the back of the cabin. He presses his hand against the glowing red panel, and the door hisses open, revealing a small metal table ringed with gray metal cabinets and a small wash station.
-
Ewa watched as the brown-cloaked man excused himself, apparently uncomfortable with the other new arrival. She saw him join another brown-cloaked man at a distant table. They must be from the same production, she thought before turning back to the group.
With a nod of thanks, Ewa slid Zorish's drink the rest of the way over and took a small sip. Quite a lot of protein for an alcoholic drink. Maybe it's supposed to double as a meal? She kept the glass pressed up against her lips to partially hide her smile as Al made his unnecessarily long string of introductions. Her eyes were still twinkling as she lowered it.
"Nice to meet you, Mar," she acknowledged.
Her eyes traveled between Al and Zorish thoughtfully, but she didn't really understand the Sub-Visser's situation. And this doesn't seem like the appropriate moment to ask.
-
Simon returned to the bar. He remembered a woman talking to the rebel who seemed familiar with him, so he went over to her. "Hello miss. My name is Simon, and I'd like to talk to you. May I sit down?"
-
<<Thank you,>> Serid responds to Efaen with sincerity. He clasps his hands calmly as he watches his new leader and Corliss.
Illim gives Corliss a wink of reassurance and lifts his hand to fiddle with a knob to a storage panel on the wall near where he is standing. He turns his gaze towards the two Warriors who are momentarily sharing the space with him.
"So," he says in an exaggerated smalltalk-making tone, "looks like I won't be seeing much of you anymore, Serid, though there's a new Andalite in my life." He gives Efaen a toothy grin, just in case she could not read between the lines; Andalites, he had learned rather painfully from his time with Serid, did not often understand humor.
-
~Ossanlin~
<Well, I do not really need any supplies. Just a large room. And for Terenia's comfort, some sort of container that could hold her in your...mineral...fl uid, in a non-confined space. Preferably a container you do not mind being destroyed. Otherwise Terenia will have to be laying out on your med table outside of an aqueous solution. I know that this is not comfortable for the Yeerk body. Also I am uncertain of how long this will take, and I do not wish her to dehydrate before the procedure is completed.> He follows Corliss to the storage area as he speaks.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ________
~Raile~
Raile nods in acquiescence. His emotions sometimes still broke through his discipline. His old master had always told him that dealing with emotions was a much better solution than trying to block them completely. In the past four years, Raile had been attempting to feel more, and to deal with those feelings instead of shutting them behind a wall of serenity, after his old master's advice.
When Garreth responds in kind Raile smiles a bit and shakes his head. "You flatter me, Master Garreth. I am not a Master, only a humble Knight, and barely that. I fear that there are no Masters left in my time. I hope that I am wrong."
He pauses and considers revealing some of the history of the Mandalorian wars, at least what he knew of it. It could be helpful, but then reconsiders. It could also be dangerous or volatile as Garreth had said. "I...yes I suppose time could be a tricksome thing. I do have knowledge of the Mandalorian wars...every Padawan in my time used to...before the betrayal...I fear the Sith once again rule the Republic. The Chancellor has declared the Republic as the First Galactic Empire now."
He sighs inwardly, such darkness clouds every part of the Force now.
-
Terenia squirms uneasily in the pool. She can only really hear Ossanlin's thought-speak; spoken conversation is too far away from the pool for the computers to pick up.
<Destroyed?> she repeats a little shrilly in open-thought speak. <Ossanlin, if you end up killing me, I swear I-> she cuts off, and if she had teeth she would be gritting them to prevent herself from speaking harshly to the Andalite. Just shut up and be nice to him until after the procedure, she chastises herself. She couldn't afford to anger Ossanlin.
<Sorry,> she amends quickly. <Just...don't kill me, okay? Or, you know, get me stuck as some sort of half-Yeerk, half-human blob.>
Efaen's human lip curls at Illim's attempt at human, her expression falling even further into revulsion when Terenia's nervous thought-speak fills the cabin.
"Yes," Efaen says to Illim tightly, speaking aloud this time. She too cannot afford to be cruel right now. Not when everything hinged on her being allowed to return with the rebellion. The effort is written plainly across her face. "I suppose that is true, but I assure you, Yeerk, our paths have only crossed because of necessity."
-
~Ossanlin~
<Yes Terenia...have you forgotten that the human body is a slight bit larger than that of a Yeerk? Your increasing mass and size will most likely destroy any container your Yeerk body may have been submerged in.> Ossanlin watches Corliss impassively.
-
"I understand, can't get too friendly with the Yeerks; it's in your Andalite makeup," Illim smirks at Efaen. "Just saying... it's gonna get awful lonely up there with no one to talk to bunch of slugs you refuse to associate with and humans you're too good for."
Serid gives Illim a warning frown but says nothing more.
-
Corliss dutifully fishes through a number of hydraulic panels in the storage room, retrieving a plastic tupperware container.
He stops before leaving the storage room and glances at Ossanlin, his eyes flitting anxiously around the little room.
"Don't reckon this room will be large enough," he says worriedly. "Perhaps we should perform this whole procedure in the cabin, it's got the most room by far. Hang on, I'm going to retrieve Terenia." He marches out of the storage room and around the corner into the humid pool room.
As he approaches the metal tub and fills it gently with warm gray pool water, he finally responds to Terenia's concerns.
"Don't worry, love," he says softly to the water's surface. "I don't know what powers Ossanlin possesses, but I won't let him or anyone else hurt you." He bites his lip, his own lack of confidence in the statement making his stomach churn. "I've got a tupperware container set up; if you're ready, I can take you out of there. Try and find Mike's hand, you know."
Corliss sets the dripping plastic container, balanced with one hand, on the metal lip of the tub. He inwardly curses at not having rolled up his uniform sleeves, sticking his right hand into the water up to his soggy wrist in order to await Terenia's soft and slimy form.
-
Garreth ****s his head slightly at the words "the betrayal". Could our actions of joining the war be seen as a betrayal? Perhaps the council betrays us somehow? No, if anything, we would be considered the betrayers for joining a war the council expressedly said to stay out of. Perhaps, instead, one of our kind joins the fight too soon and is unable to resist the feelings of power through battle and turns to the Dark Side. It could be so many things. It would only prove dangerous to dwell on the future. Nothing can be gained from speculation. I will have to be cautious and aware as we progress further into this war.
Garreth decides to let the topic fall and instead replies to the former comment, "I am no more a Master than you are." He scratches above his right ear, bringing to light that his hair is a tad longer on the right side. "I attained the rank of 'Knight' officially not too long ago, though my trials ended quite some time ago."
A moment passes and he decides to ask towards the last bit of news given, "A Galactic Empire? How could the Senate allow such a thing?"
-
"I am well-acquainted with the experience of being the only one of my kind amongst Yeerks and humans," Efaen says frostily. "It has been a long time since I was surrounded by my own. I think that I will be able to cope sufficiently."
She shifts, uneasy on two legs, as Ossanlin and Corliss prepare for the procedure. She is hopeful that it will be over with quickly so that she can shed the ridiculous human form and return to her own body.
<<Okay, yeah,>> Terenia says privately to Corliss. She uses sonar to pinpoint Mike's hand and scrunch-thrusts her way over. <<Corliss...I-I'm trusting you.>> The concept fills her with terror. She is utterly at the mercy of Ossanlin - an Andalite she does not entirely trust with powers that she does not fully understand - and her only means of protection was Corliss, a Yeerk she barely knew and yet somehow cared deeply for.
<I'm so screwed,> she mutters, barely aware of the fact that she is using open thought-speak as she settles into Mike's palm.
-
Corliss smiles thinly. "No you're not," he says, even though Terenia can't hear him. He gently pulls her out of the pool and places her into the liquid-filled tupperware. So strange, holding her small form with his human hand for the first time. He's reminded, not for the first time, of how fragile his people were.
He takes the little tub with both hands and carefully heads back into the main cabin.
"Well, I reckon she's ready whenever you are, Ossanlin," he tells the War-Prince, glancing again at the other cabin occupants. "Should I just...set her on the floor?" The thought of leaving her vulnerable makes Mike's stomach twist.
-
Keshin listens, quickly taking in as much information as he can about Salem's problem. It isn't exactly a shock that this guy has somebody after him, with all the trouble he gets mixed up in. When Salem brings up the picture of the person he's calling Rathien, Keshin scratches his head in confusion. Something about Salem's attacker doesn't look quite normal. Then again, he could be from anywhere.
<Can we take this guy?>
<I don't know yet. Salem says he's hard to track. Still, let's keep an eye out for Rathien. We won't attack him unless we know for sure he can be taken down.>
<Or at least ambushed?>
<That's the idea.>
Keshin smirks, laying back in the Bar stool nonchalantly. He can't look like he's even remotely worried. "Look, I don't know this bloke. But we'll make sure to tell you if we see him anywhere. Or manage to figure out what he wants from you. As for..getting rid of...him, that's a case-by-case basis. We'll see."
It's only somewhat after he speaks to Salem that Keshin spots the other guy talking to him. He can't really blame himself: the poor little guy is pretty inconspicious. "Oh. Uhm? Simon, is it? Yeah, sure sure. Anybody's welcome."
*****************************************************************************************
Mar smirks, forming a response after listening to the inane chatter around this one Imperial. "Why, she's the biggest miscreant in the entire Bar. Nearly everything regrettable that has occurred here is indirectly or directly her fault. I'm just a passive observer. The rebels are involved with her quite a bit. Why I can't imagine."
Mar glances Zorish up and down and states with surprising honesty, "You should not have come. That uniform will win you no favors in this wooden shack. Any person who stands as a kind of authority earns the distrust of the locals. I am lucky enough to be entirely out of my context."
-
~Ossanlin~
<The bowl needs to be within my arm's reach, I believe physical contact will aid the process.> He follows Corliss into the room, glancing around. <Efaen, in here please. I will need to be touching you as well.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Raile~
Raile shakes his head and looks at Garreth again, taking another sip of his Reserve. "I do not believe they had much of a choice, although if propaganda is to be believed, the delgates cheered the Chancellor's announcement of the formation of the Empire." He shrugs a bit, unsure as to what could be revealed and what not, before continuing.
"You see, it really began with unsanctioned Trade Federation movements against Naboo. Chancellor Valorum opposed the movement, but his power had evaporated long before. He was replaced by Chancellor Palpatine of Naboo. However, the Trade Federation's dissatisfaction was shared by others and soon a Separatist movement grew, led by former Jedi Master Count Dooku. Dooku became a Sith..." Raile pauses and shakes his head in mourning for the fall of the once-great Jedi. "To counter the threat of the Separatists, the delegates voted Chancellor Palpatine emergency powers. That was how the Clone Armies came to be. Palpatine stayed on long past his terms and...I fear he is a Sith Lord. He said that the Jedi had moved against him...we would not have done this if the Dark Side were not involved. His holo-images show a twisted face marred by the Dark Side...there can be no mistaking it."
He looks back across the bar and takes a long draw from his tumbler, closing his eyes, savoring the burn of the woody whiskey.
-
Garreth shakes his head disappointed, yet somewhat impressed, as though he were beaten at a game of chess. He states, "It seems this Sith has learned to play the politics game very well. It is sad to see such a time come to be. However History is full of both light and dark times. Perhaps this dark time just has to come about to bring forth a grand time of peace and light." Garreth ponders aloud, "This is not unlike what the Jedi Masters have been saying about the Mandalorian Wars. Perhaps I have been paying too close attention to what happens in the moment of the battles, rather than understanding what could or may come after."
-
"Interesting," Zorish says, his eyes flickering over Mar. "Someone who looks as if they walked off of sixteenth century Earth is giving me fashion advice." He smirks a little. "Lucky for me I am hardly looking for favors, in this place. I am looking for answers. And a Yeerk that does not seem to want to show his face."
Efan pushes off from the wall and strides somewhat awkwardly over to Ossanlin. She has absolutely no interest in being touched by anyone, but she hides her distaste behind a stoic mass, coming to a halt next to her Prince and waiting. For the most part she avoids looking at the container that holds Terenia, but when she does glance its way her lip curls automatically in revulsion at the small, sluggish form.
Blind and deaf, limited to hearing only thought-speak now that she is out of the pool, Terenia can only hope that Corliss will keep a close eye on her. She waits for what seems like an interminable amount of time.
-
Illim smirks in mild amusement at Efaen's obvious distaste towards him, but his smile fades when her revulsion becomes even more apparent at seeing Terenia. He sighs, leaning back against the hull wall and watches the happenings, arms folded.
Serid slowly sinks into the nearest metal chair, his hands clasped loosely in his lap, dark eyes observing behind curly hair. Do not hold hope that he can help you, he tells himself. There is no guiding DNA sample he may use as a model for me. Who I was... it is lost forever.
-
"Thank you." Simon said, and sat down. He ordered a new drink before speaking. "I apologize if I'm interrupting anything important." He said to Salem. "I am interested in information on the person you were speaking to just recently. The British guy in the old uniform. I believe he is a member of a group that my superior would like to make contact with. Do you know him or his allies well?"
-
Corliss nods. "The storage room will have to do, then," he says, stepping into storage and lightly setting the tupperware container on the small metal table. He wipes his wet hands on his black uniform and sidles out of the way to the far corner of the room, watching worriedly.
<<God, I hope this works,>> Mike says with trepidation. His mind fills with frantic thoughts of the procedure making Terenia vanish, or turn inside out, or any of a half dozen other morbid thoughts.
Corliss chews on Mike's lip. <<Will you stop that rot?>> he demands. <<It's only making me more anxious.>>
<<Here I reckoned I was anxious because of you,>> Mike retorts.
<<We're both anxious, okay? Now let me listen.>>
<<Temper,>> Mike says half-heartedly.
-
Salem nodded at Keshin. A 'case-by-case basis' was the best he'd been hoping for at this point anyway. He turned and smiled at Simon.
"No interruption. Name's Salem," he said, holding out a hand. "I'm a bit of a trader. If you like, you can take a look at what I have to offer," he said, patting the briefcase-like case that was now sitting in his lap." He laughed when Simon mentioned a "British guy." He wasn't entirely clear on what the term meant, but so far he'd only ever heard it applied to Corliss. "That guy's a waste of your time, if you ask me," he said. "He's a lot more trouble than he's worth."
Al laughed, "Not my Terenia. Don't try to shove her off on me. Like he said," he nodded towards Mar, "the rebels seem to think they've got some kind of claim to her."
He glanced at Mar, amused. "Is that authoritative clothing?"
He picked up his glass and raised it in Zorish's direction. "You're persistent, but really, if this person's not around, you won't make them show up any faster by waiting harder." He took a sip, shuddered visibly, and set the glass back down, "This bar's a great place for people-watching, though. So many people from so far away, and every single one of them seems to have a story to tell. Heck, even if you don't like good stories, there might be useful things to learn in the mix somewhere."
-
"Nice to meet you, Salem. I'm not sure what my boss would think of me shopping right now. It is his money I'd be paying with. He's mainly interested in the rebels, so unless I'm spending money to further that goal he might not want me to use it." Simon said. "So Corliss isn't the most approachable person, eh? Maybe that comes with the job. Even though our goals are similar, I don't have to be nearly as secretive or cautious as he likely does. where I come from, those ideals he's working towards have become the norm."
-
Keshin nods in agreement with Salem's statements about Corliss, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, no kidding. He has a ton of allies, so getting anything from him also requires you to go through the Peace Movement. I've agreed not to attack any of them as part of our agreement, but I'm not sure whether I like the Yeerk himself. He seemed kind of twitchy when I mentioned a certain...person me and my partner aren't thrilled with."
<Hey, it ain' really her fault attackin' her got us nearly killed.>
<Yeah, but getting attacked by your own immune system over a pissy blonde doesn't exactly endear you to her.>
<It ain' your system, Kess.>
<Yeah, sure sure.>
Keshin lays back in his chair, turning Joanne's head to Simon. "You're better off avoiding the rebels altogether unless you want the entire group. This Bar is their territory by a fashion, though. They don't own it, but they spend a lot of time here."
**********************************************************************************************
Mar grins at Al's and Zorish's comments regarding his clothes, pulling at his ascot. "Eighteen hundred years past, Yeerk. I suppose it is out of line with the military wear so many here appreciate. But in the times and places I prefer it is the mark of someone wealthy and powerful, which suits me well. I'm often associated with both. Cultural differences aside..."
Mar puts his arm underneath his chin, trying and failing to hide his interest. "...your manner is the opposite of your young sister. Well, perchance you seem to be. Judging from your garb however, that is not really you. How comes a society woman to this rotting old building?"
-
"I see. It would likely be a tricky business. The rebels are about the best thing for the Yeerk people, since they're fighting for host equality, though it's not in this Council's interests. I know it's worked out before, because it worked in my dimension. Unless this is my past instead of another dimension altogether. I haven't figured that out yet due to lack of information. If it's my past, then we shouldn't have to worry about it because things will work out on its own. If it isn't, helping the rebels would be best for everyone. I guess the easiest way to figure it out is to look up some historic events, and see if it matched up with the timeline."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin follows Corliss back to the small storage room...so crowded...<You know, we could still carry Terenia to the Mirage. My med-bay would have enough room for everyone, not to mention the medical capabilities...>
-
Corliss frowns, oblivious to the Andalite's claustrophobia.
"I don't want to risk moving her any further than we have to," he says firmly. "Unless you reckon this room is so small it'll harm her or any of us in some way, we should do it here. The pool's here too, if we need it." He crosses his arms. "Would that be acceptable?"
-
"I realize this," Zorish says to Al shortly. "At the moment leaving does not seem to benefit me any more or less than staying, though, so I'll remain. Perhaps I will get lucky and Myitt will decide to show his face."
He raises his eyebrow at Mar. "As I said, I am looking for someone. Although now that their appearance seems less than likely I am merely...ah...I suppose 'people watching', as this human said." Zorish nods his head towards Al. "And Teresa is not my sister, she is the sister of my host. I care nothing for the child. Her existence is irrelevent."
<Can we just get this over with!?> Terenia cries, her nerves translating as anger when Ossanlin proposes something that will take even more time. She does not know that Corliss has responded, deaf as she is, but Ossanlin's thought-speak makes it sound as though he is stalling. Maybe because he doesn't know what the hell he's doing, a voice inside her head prods. She forces the thought back.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin shakes his head and closes his eyes. <This will not be pleasant...for anyone. Efaen come closer please. Serid, find somewhere that you can see if you desire.>
He concentrates on his perception of reality, expanding his thoughts and his mind to see the layers between the layers. His fur, blade, and hooves flash to silver. He opens his eyes, now actually glowing sky blue instead of merely seeming unusually bright as they do when he is in his natural form. He regards the people around him and their energies. <We are ready then.> His thought-speech seems fuller, stronger, like it might be coming from more than one direction. The air shimmers around him as he plunges a many-fingered hand into the container holding Terenia's defenseless body, his palm descending directly toward her. At the same time he reaches out and grips Efaen's human wrist, the fingers of his other hand forming a cage around Terenia, his grip tightening until the flesh of his hand makes contact with her body.
He closes his eyes again and delves into Terenia's biological memory, sifting through genomes, DNA patterns, tens of thousands of individual nucleotides. He does the same with Efaen's form, looking for the matching tags in Terenia's DNA. Efaen's pattern seems almost ephemeral...because of the morph, but slowly it was growing stronger. In small, almost imperceptible increments it was imposing itself over Efaen's actual DNA. This must be the reason for the two hour time limit as he had suspected.
Slowly Ossanlin begins drawing Terenia's original nucleotides forth using Efaen's morph as the guide. He brins pieces to the forefront, making sure of every nucleic acid before doing so. Mixing genetic patterns would almost certainly kill the poor girl. Steadily he works, his eyes remaining closed as he burns Terenia's original DNA back onto her cerebral map as her primary...this process might take some time.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________
~Raile~
Raile takes another swig of his whiskey before he feels some sort of strange reverberation in the Force just outside the bar. Something was happening. He glances at Garreth questioningly to see if the other Jedi senses the...pressure...as well.
-
Garreth was lost in thought over whether his group's actions were truly the correct ones, noble and somewhat necessary as they are. His ale held between his hands, he stares out to nowhere. Reflecting on the words of the council, and trying to feel for any sign of the future from the Force. As he concentrates he feels an odd ripple, not completely unlike what he had felt when the other Jedi had arrived. However this ripple was not one searching for others, this seemed to be some odd emersion of some sorts. He glances toward Raile and meets his eyes, "So you felt it as well?"
-
Efaen obeys Ossanlin's orders, moving close enough for him to grip her comfortably. The enclosed space, combined with the physical contact, makes her uneasy, but she says nothing, her expression remaining largely impassive until Ossanlin enters his silver blade form. When this happens her human eyes widen and she stares, still hardly believing what she is witnessing, despite having seen it once before.
"Impossible..." she murmurs, shaking her head and glancing around her to see the reactions of the other observers.
Terenia's small, sluggish body curls up on itself automatically at the sudden pressure. She cannot help but imagine the weak Andalite fingers continuing to close around her until they strangle the life from her. Despite her reservations, she holds as still as she possibly can.
<<Corliss,>> she sends him a private message, her fear making even her thoughts tremble. <<I...if something goes wrong, just->> she stumbles over the words, not sure how to articulate her feelings for him. <<Thank you,>> she finally settles on. <<For everything.>>
-
Derrel didn't really know what to say about Efaen changing shapes. <<Do all Andalites do that?>> He asked Illim.
-
Corliss watches with growing concern, his shock at Ossanlin's altered state mitigated by his anxiety for Terenia's well-being.
<<My God, he's going to crush her, inn'e?>> Mike says, his silent voice breathless.
<<No,>> Corliss replies quietly, leaning forward to get a better glimpse, <<I don't believe he is.>>
When Terenia's voice rings through their minds, he pauses, covering his mouth with a hand. Wishing he could tell her everything she'd said, and everything unspoken.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin's concentration doesn't falter as he continues fitting nucleotides into place like the pieces of a puzzle, Efaen's morph like the picture on the lid, guiding each piece. Though time marches on, Ossanlin is unaware of it as he continues his task. Seconds become minutes, and minutes stretch on. He begins to feel some fatigue for staying ascended for so long, but he doesn't allow himself to falter as he continues on without fail.
Finally the last piece slips into place and Ossanlin burns it into place. He double and triple checks the pattern against Efaen's morph before feeling certain that it is correct. With a deep breath, he finds the "demorph" command mapped on Terenia's brain and attempts to trigger it, but it would help if Terenia tried it as well. <Terenia, you remember how to demorph. You need to try to demorph now.> His "voice" is still fuller than usual, but it sounds drawn and somewhat tight with his tiredness.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __________-
~Raile~
"Yes...it feels odd. As if something has...grown...in the Force." He looks at the wall beyond which he can sense the strange growth as if he can see through it. "This place is...unique. Do you feel that it warrants investigation?"
-
<<Not all of them,>> Illim tells Derrel as he watches the proceedings from behind the group, <<but all the ones I've met can. It's a technology they created and allow certain members of their society to use.>> He frowns, wondering if it will really work. From his expression, it is clear that he has his doubts. Granted, the change in Ossanlin seems very genuine.
Serid hangs back, the Andalite upbringing and instincts in him disliking confined spaces. Still, he rocks forward onto his toes to get a better look.
-
Terenia waits in silence as interminable minutes pass at an agonizingly slow speed. When Ossanlin's voice finally fills her head again it takes her a minute to allow the words to penetrate her racing thoughts. Demorph, she tells herself. It had been so long since she had thought to do such a thing, but Ossanlin was right; she remembered how. Stilling her panicky mind she focuses on the human form of her twin sister, the form she had adopted for herself long ago.
She takes care to picture it down to the detail, afraid that if she doesn't the process may be incomplete. She focuses on the straw-colored hair, long and constantly tangled. She focuses on the pale skin, smattered with an over-abundance of freckles that refused to disappear from childhood. She focuses on the flat gray eyes, the lean, almost scrawny frame, and the downturned lips that almost constantly were twisted into a scowl.
Demorph, she murmurs to herself again once the image is complete in her mind. Demorph.
Distantly, she feels the changes begin.
-
Salem smiled at Simon, "Actually, that's the beauty of my trade. I'm not interested in your money. In fact, I could start you off with something nice at no actual cost to yourself." He listened to the conversation between Keshin and Simon, then laughed, "I'm not actually sure 'here' is any time. All of us come from different times and places, it seems. No consistency. We just happen to meet in this improbable little place."
Al nodded at Mar with a smile, "It definitely suits you. I might have to try to bring that fashion back. It's growing on me." As he said this, ruffles that matched Mar's seemed to grow from the arms and collar of his jacket, slowly. He looked down at them, seemingly annoyed, and brushed them away, so that they fluttered to the ground and disappeared.
He laughed and kicked his feet up on the table. "Irrelevant sister," he said to Zorish, with a wink at Ewa. "Hint taken. So how's life in the empire these days? All I really know about you guys comes from the Andalites, and I have a feeling they're... how to put this... a little biased. It'd be nice to hear tales from the other side of the tracks."
-
"Ok Salem. Let's see what you have to offer." Simon said. "I guess I won't worry too much about the time, then. Actually I've heard of old time travel stories where the good ending happened because the traveler did something in his or her own past anyway. So who knows, maybe the rebels succeeded because of what Jocun did? That guy will just do whatever he can if he thinks it will help people, without ruining himself in the process."
-
Corliss feels Mike's breath catch in his throat as he watches Terenia's slimy, submerged form begin to make hesitant, subtle changes.
<<Bloody hell,>> Mike whispers.
The Yeerk clears his throat and nods at Efaen, wincing. "Efaen, erh," he says quietly, his attention still drawn towards Terenia, "when she demorphs she'll likely not be clothed. You know how humans are with this sort of thing."
<<Oh, you are not going to ask her to-->> Mike attempts to interject.
"D'you reckon you could lend her your morphing outfit?" Corliss finishes, heedless of Mike's protests.
-
"It seems most people here are out of context," Ewa remarked in response to Mar. Kind of hard for it to be otherwise when everyone's been kidnapped from different scapes. She tapped her glass, her lips still twisted in half a smirk. "It must be especially bad for you though," she continues. A fop with an over-developed sense of self-importance gets stuck in a scape where he's technologically barbaric. Really, this petulance is to be expected. Her eyes crinkled from the suppressed smile.
She looked back at Al in time to see him shift his clothes. How'd he get a shifter bar in here? Ewa raised an eyebrow, but he seemed eminently unconcerned. "Showoff much?" she muttered quietly.
-
Katie looked up from her meal to see Ewa socializing. She was getting kinda bored...so much for adventure.
She walked over to her, "What's going on?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin feels a small size differential occur in Terenia's slug-like body. He relaxes from a tension he did not know was there, and immediately he reverts to his natural form. He had meant to monitor the rest of Terenia's transformation but that wouldn't happen now. There's no way he could possible will himself into his Silver Blade form again with his tiredness. So tired of being drained...
He does notice before his contact with Terenia's mind is ripped away by his reversion, that the remorph command for whatever reason had not remapped itself over Terenia's brain. Perhaps it had gone too long without use. Whatever the reason, Terenia would not be able to morph again, though he suspects that if she manages to find an Escafil device and a being kind or stupid enough to allow her to use it, she would retain all of her old morphs and would be able to change again.
<She is...demorphing.> His thought has lost its booming presence and has nothing more than its usual "sound", even a bit weaker than usual and slightly haggard with his lack of energy.
-
Efaen tears her gaze away from the process to regard Corliss briefly. She does not answer him immediately, but as soon as Ossanlin breaks contact with Terenia she wordlessly begins stripping, shedding the black leotard without any semblence of shame. She tosses the wadded up lump of fabric at Corliss' feet and, still silent, pushes past those crowding the doorway, eager to be free of the claustrophic room and far from the creature that was Terenia.
As soon as she is back in the main cabin Efaen begins to demorph, returning to her natural form with no intention of ever using her human morph again, if she can help it.
When Terenia begins to feel the distant changes to her body she almost stops the morph in shock. Keep going, she scolds herself, refocusing her energy. With the agonizing slowness of someone who has not morphed in years her Yeerk body swells, growing larger and larger, until it is much too large for the container Corliss provided for her. She can feel the pressure building around her and she shifts her body, rocking it until the container tips, spilling pool liquid across the table and dumping her twisting, mutating form unceremoniously onto the cold metal surface.
The largely featureless slug that was her Yeerk self continues to grow, the tail end splitting and forming legs, her 'fins' becoming arms. Her palps disappear altogether, sucked into her head to be replaced by a sprig of blonde hair that grows longer and thicker as she herself inches closer to human sized. Small, as of yet unseeing, eyes appear in the section of her body that will become her head.
In addition to the physical changes, Terenia is acutely aware of something far more miraculous. The clamoring Yeerk and Andalite instincts, born from nothlitism after nothlitism has stilled, no longer competing with her natural human volitions. The voices that have been slowly driving her mad for years are gone. The silence is almost more overwhelming than the reappearance of her lost humanity.
Finally, after long minutes of slow changes, the process completes itself. The final change is the appearance of her mouth, a horizontal gash that opens with a gasp. She is on her hands and knees on the tabletop, naked as Corliss had predicted, but seems not to notice. Breathing heavily, fighting against morphing fatigue, she stares down at her hands, splayed wide in a quarter inch of discarded pool water. Her expression betrays utter wonder and confusion as she examines human hands that she has seen many times before, but has not been able to call her own for many, many years.
"Oh..." the quiet exclamation escapes her lips almost silently. She appears unable to say anything else.
-
Claxter could see up the ramp that Terenia's form was changing into Efaen. He walked partly up the ramp to get a better view of the cabin. <So, did it go well? Was it a success? How are you feeling?>
<<Wow. It worked.....Don't look!>> Derrel said. Part of him actually did want to look, but he pushed it down and hoped Illim wouldn't notice.
-
Corliss stoops to pick up Terenia's crumpled spandex outfit, regarding Efaen coldly as the Andalite girl turns and leaves the room.
That was fine. Let her go. She wasn't a necessary part of his life anymore.
<<Yes, she is, mate,>> Mike snaps. <<She's still going to be bloody well living with us.>>
Corliss starts, so engulfed by his thoughts that he barely noticed them bleeding into his human friend's mind.
Instead of replying he turns Mike's gaze towards the continuously shifting thing that was--is--the person they both cared for so deeply. He and Mike had seen plenty of horrors in war, but the process of morphing was rife with grotesquery and fascination in a way that was still alien to them. So much so that Corliss vaguely wonders if Mike's tightening stomach is due to excitement, nervousness or sheer disgust.
He swallows and pushes down his thoughts and his bile, forcing themselves to watch until Terenia crouches, naked, in a thin layer of gray pool water.
"Terenia?" he says, sucking in a breath and finding his voice. "Terenia, it's me. It's us." He looks down at the black morphing outfit, still folded haphazardly in his sweating hands. "D'you want your clothing, then?"
-
"Catie," Ewa looked over her shoulder, pleasantly surprised. "Just a little conversational dance between people who do and don't want to step on toes." She smiled. "This is Lieutenant Catie Anderson of the recently departed Urtahn," she introduced to the group in general. "And this is Al," Ewa nodded in his direction, "Mar, and Sub-Visser Zorish--" she paused for a moment in recognition of the fact that she did not know Zorish's numerical designation, but then smiled again.
"In any other place we'd be a very eclectic collection," Ewa remarked dryly.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin removes his hand from Terenia's now-human flesh as if just remembering that it still hovered there. He allows the arm to drop to his side, his tail sagging a bit. <It is done then. The morph command did not remap itself when you demorphed. You will not be able to morph again without the use of an Escafil device, and maybe not even then, I do not know. Your acquired morphs are still present, you are simply unable to use them. I hope you find a safe home amongst the rebels, and perhaps more.> He glances at Corliss with his main eyes meaningfully. One would have to be blind and deaf to the world to avoid seeing the signs those two were throwing up about each other. <I'll leave you now. Good fortunes.>
Ossanlin backs out of the storage compartment and out down the ramp, passing Claxter, speaking breifly to him. <It went as it should.> He continues slowly on toward the Mirage, seeking its safety to relax and perhaps to take a nap. He hopes fervently that there is no further need of his abilities for some time. Feeling chronic exhaustion is not terribly pleasant, especially considering that this is supposed to be his leave from duty.
-
Efaen regards Claxter with an emerging stalk eye. <It went as was expected,> she says, reiterating Ossanlin's words. She finishes the demorph and exhales through her nose slits, glad to be done with the process.
Terenia blinks and looks up at the sound of Mike's voice with wide, gray eyes.
"Corliss," she murmurs hoarsely. Her eyes trail down to the bundle in his arms and she suddenly seems to realize that she is naked. Flushing, she reaches out a trembling hand for the crumpled morphing outfit. She licks her lips, running her tongue over her teeth.
"It worked," she whispers to him in a shaky voice. "It worked. I-" Suddenly she is crying, hot tears flowing down her cheeks as she tries to come to terms with everything that has happened to her since arriving at the bar.
-
Corliss freezes, unsure whether to hug the naked girl or let her sob on the wet table.
In the end he settles for, "Why don't you come down off of there, love. Come 'ead. It's okay." He guides an arm around her shoulders, still half carrying the morphing suit between them.
-
Terenia allows herself to be guided off of the table, sniffing and fighting back the tears. Her face is bright red from a combination of embarassment and frustration.
"Sorry," she says thickly, wiping at her eyes with a hand before snatching the morphing outfit from him. She pulls away from him a little, stepping into the morphing outfit and pulling it up to cover her naked body, acutely aware of the fact that there is still a small crowd watching. Once she is fully clothed she seems to regain some of her usual self. Her eyes, still shining with tears, narrow at Illim and Serid, standing in the doorway.
"What the **** are you staring at?" she demands, crossing her arms over her chest, still embarassed despite the fact that she is no longer exposed. "The show's over, leave me alone." She inches closer to Corliss, clearly not including him in the list of those she wants to leave.
-
<I guess...this is it, then. I sincerely hope you are...less unhappy with the rebels than you would be aboard the Terynnian. If anything goes wrong, I will come for you. I promise.> Claxter said, turning to walk down the ramp. Surely Corliss would come any second and tell him to get lost so he could close the ramp and lift off. He followed the direction Ossanlin was walking, though he slowed down as he got safely away from the ship.
-
Corliss lets Terenia dress, and snakes an arm gently around her waist when she steps back close to him.
"You heard what she said," he says, looking around at the little band, feeling free to be annoyed now that Ossanlin has left. In spite of himself his tone softens. "She wants some time alone. Please."
-
Once Illim has overcome his shock at the success of the procedure, he smirks good-naturedly. "Congratulations, Terenia," he says with a bob of his head and turns to walk away, heading off the ship altogether. He stuffs his hands in Derrel's pockets. <<Impressive, huh?>> he remarks to his host.
Serid, for one, has been distracted, his eyes on the floor, lost in thought. When Terenia and Corliss address him and Illim, he looks up and gives a small nod. "Of course." He follows Illim out of the ship, numb. Not knowing what to think. His stomach feels tight, and he cannot say whether it is from jealousy or nerves.
-
<<That was like superpowers or magic or something. Like right out of a comic book.>>
-
<Thank you for your companionship, Claxter,> Efaen says to his retreating form. <I am grateful.>
She watches as first Illim and then Serid walk past her and out of the ship. Part of her wishes to follow, but she stays in the cabin for the moment, enjoying the temporary lull in action. She is ready for relaxation herself.
As soon as Terenia is alone with Corliss her scowl and her arms drop, anger fading back into mystified confusion. She shifts a little, acutely aware of his arm around her waist and unsure how to react to it.
"Thanks," she mutters, glancing up at him cautiously. She isn't entirely sure if she should hug him or pull away. "Um..." she bites her lip and shifts again.
-
<You are welcome.> Claxter joins Ossanlin, noting how tired he looks and wanting to help him get to where he was going. Probably somewhere to sleep. <I guess that's it. We probably won't be seeing them for a while.> he said, making casual conversation.
-
Mike's ears burn as Corliss feels his new friends' eyes on him and the girl in the spandex suit.
As soon as they're alone, Corliss looks down at Terenia, his lips pressed into a thin line.
"You're welcome," he says. He gently, hesitantly, kisses her forehead. He smiles. "Hi."
-
"Hi," Terenia responds, feeling a little foolish. Despite herself, a grin breaks out on her face and she ducks her head to hide it. She finds herself staring at her bare feet and she wriggles her toes a little, her smile widening as the muscles flex at her command. Hesitantly, she glances back up at Corliss.
"So, what do you think?" she asks quietly, running a hand through her hair and relishing the way her fingers tangle in the snarls there. Despite her giddiness a part of her is still worried that, now that she is human, Corliss himself will have lost interest, no matter what Mike has to say about it. He was an entirely different species, after all.
"Sub-Visser Twenty-Eight," Zorish corrects Ewa, "but just Zorish is fine. This hardly seems like the place to recognize Imperial authority. I suppose I am lucky enough that I have not been shot for my affiliations yet."
-
Keshin shrugs, putting his hands behind Joanne's head as he lays back in the chair. "Yeah, there's all kinds. Some people have theories, but for us it just means new clients. The weirdoes at this Bar all have some kind of story to tell, and that story usually involves danger and intrigue. Every once in a while, one of these nutjobs hires us. That's why we keep coming back to this middle-of-nowhere rock."
<That, and to pick on the Movement. It's waay too fun to get those guys' panties up in a britch.>
<Maybe.>
<Or maybe it's jus' that you like hangin' around with Myitt. Hehe.>
<It is not!>
Keshin grins and says to Simon, "So, what's your story? Where do you come from? At this rate, we've seen and heard everything."
************************************************************************************
Mar bites his lip with what look like surprisingly sharp canines as he overhears the conversation between the Yeerk and the other. The imperial-looking creature wanted to speak with his dear Precious? Hmn. Precious was in with the rebel scum. Not good.
Mar turns his head sharply toward Zorish and says with a hint of suspicion, "You want to parlay with Myitt One-Nine-Five? Forgive me, but I cannot help but assume your intentions are less than noble. I am not a rebel, but I do have familiarity with this one. She may have no love of my affections, but they are present nonetheless. Explain your wish to me."
-
"You're a mercenary. I see. Jocun has worked with mercenaries from time to time. They can be a fun bunch, but not always the most trustworthy. Most love money more than people, but some are smart enough to know good PR helps the money keep coming."
"My story? Well, I was born on Earth, several decades after the Yeerk Empire won the war and took over the galaxy. some of the people here, especially the Andalites gave a cold reception when Jocun mentioned he was a high ranking individual in the Yeerk Empire, but it's really not the same as it was before. No one is alive that was personally involved in the war, and the Council doesn't have an iron grip on the people as it used to."
"I have heard stories of involuntary controllers tricked into infestation and locked in cages while the Imperials used them to get new hosts. Nowadays if Jocun tried putting involuntaries in cages and ignored their wishes, his political career would be in jeopardy. There are still extremists that think Yeerks should be masters over all, and some people who think infestation is a horrible thing, but it will probably always be that way. I'm content with my life. Not always happy, but then who is?"
"I don't think we need any jobs done by a mercenary right now, but if something comes up, maybe we'll hire you."
-
Mike's thoughts rush to answer the question.
What do I think? You look amazing, and you're really you, and god that outfit, and your tangled, amazing hair, I just want to--
Corliss clears his throat, smiling again. "Reckon you look really great, for being half soaked in pool water," he says. Then he searches her expression cautiously. "You're happy with your decision?"
-
"Yeah," she says, biting her lip and looking away. The way he was looking at her made her feel...odd. "Yeah, I am. I mean, how could I not be? I'm human." She hugs herself, as though checking to make sure her arms are still there, and laughs. "I'm actually human again. ****." She laughs again, a sound filled with relief.
Outside, in the cabin, Efaen hears the sound of Terenia's laughter and her main eyes darken. She steps forward, back to the doorway of the small storage closet, regarding the two.
<Congratulations,> she says in flat thought-speech. <You have finally managed to become human, using the borrowed form of your murdered sibling. I warn you, though, Terenia, do not think of this little procedure as a victory. You are a sniveling, manipulative, pathetic creature. The last thing that you deserve is happiness.>
Zorish raises his eyebrows in response to Mar. "What do my intentions matter to the likes of you?" he asks. "And why should I explain anything? It is personal."
-
Corliss grins boyishly at Terenia's obvious joy, but his expression turns sour when Efaen sticks her tail into the little storage room.
"Well, thanks for that completely unhelpful bit of uselessness, Efaen," he snarks, trying to remain as placid as possible. "Perhaps if you had a bit more happiness yourself in your sodding life you wouldn't go round knocking others for it."
-
Terenia's own face has flushed red with Efaen's words and she steps forward, pulling away from Corliss. "Get out of here, dapsen," she snaps. "Go bother someone else."
<I intend on as much,> Efaen says, but her step takes her forward instead of back. <I merely wanted to remind you that your decision here comes with consequences.>
Before Terenia can so much as blink, Efaen whips her tail forward, in a deadly arc. A long, thin line appears on the bicep of Terenia's right arm as the blade slices through her skin. The slit darkens and splits, allowing thick, crimson blood to flow out freely.
"Ahh!" Terenia clamps her left hand over the wound, but it does little to stop the sticky substance from winding down her arm and dripping from her fingertips to the floor. "What the ****!?" Terenia snaps.
<You will be unable to morph that wound away. I hope that serves to remind you of the pains that you have inflicted upon me. I daresay that may scar,> Efaen sneers. <It is nice to know that you can no longer escape your mistakes.>
"Dapsen!" Terenia screeches, moving to attack the Andalite bare-fisted. Immediately, Efaen's blade is at her throat. A wordless snarl of frustration escapes Terenia, but she cannot move.
<No, human,> Efaen says, clearly amused. <this is not a battle that you can win.> She turns her tail blade to the side, pushing the flat of it against Terenia's chest. <It is time that you learned your place in this war.>
Terenia stumbles back against the table, crying out again.
Efaen finally turns to regard Corliss, her eyes still flat. <Alert me when you are ready to depart, Corliss. You have my assurance that I will not cross paths with this human again, unless necessary.>
-
Corliss watches the whole exchange numbly. It is only until Efaen reminds him of the Andalite's new found acceptance into the rebellion that he snaps out of his shock. He is dimly aware that Mike's fists are clenched painfully tight at his sides.
Out of a million retorts none escapes his throat, which is constricted almost as badly as Mike's palms.
He finally turns to Terenia. "That bloody dapsen coward," he snarls lowly, crossing the little room to the circulatory water dispenser and wetting a couple of clean red cloths with cool water.
"Here, let me help you clean this up." He gently presses them against Terenia's wound, although her dark blood only stains the deep red color, the color of the Yeerk Empire, an even angrier shade of crimson.
-
"I'm going to kill her," Terenia scowls, clenching her teeth and glaring after Efaen as the Andalite's tail, still dripping blood, disappears out the door of the Skimmer. "I'm going to murder her."
She seems fully prepared to charge after the Andalite, but hesitates at Corliss' touch against the cut. She winces slightly, glancing down at the cut. "It isn't deep," she says sullenly, sighing. "Do we really have to live with her?" Despite her anger her stomach flip flops slightly at the idea of her living at the same base as Corliss. She could see him every day, if she wants, a thought that makes her bite her lip.
-
Corliss gently dabs at the wound. "I've got to bandage it, anyway," he murmurs. "You're bloody lucky, don't reckon you need stitches or even the putty gun." He looks up at Terenia. "And yeah, much as I hate to admit it, we do have to live with her. At least until we can figure a reason to kick her out. Here. Hold that down, keep the pressure on."
He lets go of the bloodied cloths and cleans his hands in the tiny sink before setting about gathering human antiseptic ointment, gauze, and bandage tape.
-
Terenia obeys, holding the cloth against the cut and watching him as he moves to the sink. "I hope we find a reason quickly," she sighs. Her gaze drops to the floor, where a small pool of blood has formed. "She's right, though. I'm not going to be able to morph anymore." She shakes her head and tries to use thought-speak. It scares me, she thinks at him, remembering how morphing saved her life not more than two days ago, when Keshin blew off the same arm that is now dripping blood.
-
"Is it worth it? Your old body, permanently, in exchange for your...well, relative invincibility?" he asks gently, peeling away the dampened cloths. "Hang on. This might sting a bit."
He lets the vial of antibiotic hiss a fine mist of clear liquid across the gash in Terenia's arm.
-
"Ow, ****!" Terenia cries, yanking her arm away. "Jeez, maybe it isn't worth it if you're going to freaking make it worse. What the hell is that stuff?" She glares at the antibiotic spray suspiciously, then at her arm, as though expecting it to burst into flames.
Efaen hesitates at the Skimmer's hatch. She does not want to go far, as she is eager to get underway, but she hardly wants to be near Terenia and Corliss. She resolves to go for a brief run until she is needed. It may be some time before I am able to run under the stars again, she reminds herself, descending the ramp.
-
"It's going to prevent your arm from falling off," he says with a small, wry smile. "Now hold still, will ya?" Corliss unwraps the sterile gauze package and gingerly presses it against the wound. He only applies pressure while wrapping the bandage firmly with medical tape. The gauze runs all the way around the circumference of her arm, and already thin spots of red are peeking here and there through the fabric.
"Good as new, then," he says, crumpling up the trash and tossing it into the room's single incinerator panel. The items ignite with a muffled rush of air.
-
"Thanks," Terenia says softly, taking note of the fact that he did not respond to her private thought. It appeared that thought-speak was also lost to her now. I really am...totally human, she thinks with a swell of emotion. Her eyes follow Corliss, watching him closely. I never would have done it if not for him, she realizes. For them. It would have been too much of a risk. Better to stay with Efaen and risk the Empire.
"Yeah," she says quietly, picking at the bandage with her left hand and returning to his previous question. "Yeah, I think it was worth it." She smiles, a little shyly, "At least, I hope it was."
-
"I hope so, too," Corliss says, itching slowly at Mike's black sleeve and hunching his shoulders. He stares down at the ground. "Yeah. Yeah, it'll be good. You're already used to sort of living on the fringe, living with war."
Hesitantly he glances up at her. "And, well. You'll be with us."
-
Efaen pauses at the bottom of the ramp, her hooves sinking into the muddy gravel of the ship yard. She briefly considers seeking out Claxter and giving him a more proper farewell, but she has a feeling that it would bring on unnecessary doubts. There is no room for her to doubt her decisions. Instead, she takes off at a steady pace, heading for the lake and giving the bar itself a wide berth. Far too much trouble came from that place.
"Yeah," Terenia agrees. "Yeah, that definitely helps." She looks up at him nervously, then lets her gaze drop back down to the ground, shifting awkwardly. I have no freaking idea what I'm doing, she thinks, not for the first time. Her stomach has exploded into a sea of nervous butterflies and she barely understands why. She finds herself thinking back to her conversation with Corliss in the pool. Somehow it had been easier to show affection when she didn't have the benefit of sight.
"Um," she clears her throat, feeling her cheeks grow red. "I guess we should be heading off then, shouldn't we?"
-
Garreth says nothing to Raile as he continues to feel out the disturbance. He only shakes his head slowly. After a moment, he answers, "If the disturbance persists, or grows further, then we should; however for now we should allow it be. We are not ambassadors here. We are not keepers of order on this planetoid. It is not our place unless harm is to come to others."
Moments after he spoke, he felt the disturbance fade. He nodded saying, "I don't feel it any longer, do you?"
Parker looked down to Silver and saw she was unconscious again. Her adventures and growing powers really took a toll on her body. He carried her to the sick bay and placed her on a bed. He told an attendant to inform him when she awoke and exited the ship.
He walked back toward the bar and saw Terenia exiting Corliss's ship while demorphing. Then a group of individuals exited after her. Ossanlin and Claxter were heading toward The Mirage, while Terenia ran off into the into the treeline toward the lake. Parker still didn't enjoy Claxter's company, even after a year of being away from him; so he sped off toward Terenia. He slowed to a jog as he caught up with her and asked, "Hey Terenia, how've you been?"
-
"Guess we should," Corliss says quietly, and after a moment's daze he breaks away from holding the small of her back. "Yeah. Gotta clean up this bloody mess."
Mechanically he sets about gathering extra cloths and sopping up the gray, viscous water that had coursed across the metal table and onto the floor.
-
Salem grinned at Simon and opened his 'briefcase.' "First trade is the easy one. All I need is a sample of your DNA, and you can get one of my lovely little items here. These," he said, pulling out a stack of round wafer-shaped objects, "are electronic damper patches. Make them myself. They only last a little while, but they're lifesavers in a tight spot. You're human, right?" he asked, and without waiting for an answer, pulled out a vial filled with a milky white liquid. "Nanites, configured for a few species, humans among them. They'll speed up healing and fight off disease in your body for the rest of your life. Let's see..." he began digging through the case, and set several different items on the bar counter, mumbling information about it as he went. "Paint mixing information, weapon enhancements... work pretty well on Dracons, actually... Oh, here's a good one. Information on the production of Sparkle-Be-Good."
He stopped rummaging. "It all depends on what you want, Simon. I'm flexible."
He turned to Keshin, "Speaking of my nanites, you got them for free." He smiled, to show that he held no hard feelings about it. "How have you been feeling since? Been noticing any increased energy? Or improved healing? Or more overall health?"
He listened intently to Simon's story. So Jocun was his Yeerk. Not only a Yeerk, but an imperial... though from what Simon was saying, they came from a time in the future of the universe he'd come to the bar from. So the Yeerks do win, he thought. That's upsetting. Would he be violating his principles by trading with Simon? Probably not. Even a trade with this "Jocun," by the sound of things, wouldn't be a risk to the Andalites.
"Actually," he began, "it sounds like you're from a ways in my future, but I'm guessing Yeerks are still the same. If your... Jocun... is willing to submit to a quick physiological exam, I can probably get him something extra nice."
When Ewa muttered something about Al being a "showoff," he smiled at her and shrugged, as if to say "it's who I am."
He stood and bowed deeply as a new woman approached the table. "Catie," he said, with a thick French accent, "I welcome you to our table. Please, be seated." He switched back to his normal accent, "Cause, seriously, the more the merrier with this cheerful bunch." He nodded towards Zorish and Mar.
He laughed in response to Zorish's dark comment about being shot, "Hey, you're the one who keeps bringing up your imperialism. As far as I'm concerned, we're all just people here."
-
"You people are the ones who keep making jabs at my uniform," Zorish retorts, running a finger absentmindedly over one of the crimson Imperial logos that adorns the chest and each sleeve of his one-piece garb. He settles back in the booth, watching Mar and waiting for an answer.
Efaen turns a stalk eye to Parker. She had seen him coming, of course, and slowed slightly to allow him to catch up on what she considers utterly fallible human legs.
<If it is Terenia you wish to speak to,> she says coldly, <Then you are asking the wrong person. She is aboard the Skimmer, with Corliss. No doubt the two of them are copulating by now.> She sneers, her disgust at the affection the two feel towards one another obvious.
"Here, let me help," Terenia says, snatching a few cloths up and dropping to kneel on the floor. She pressed the cloth against the pool water, letting it soak up.
"Corliss," she says while she works. "Do you...do you think I'll actually fit in at your base?" She glances up at him briefly. "I mean, neither of your brothers exactly seemed to love me. Not that I'm exceptionally fond of Myitt myself. But..." she shrugs, having trouble putting her thoughts into words. This was easier when I didn't care what people thought of me, she thinks wryly. But she does care. At least, she cares what Corliss thinks.
"I just don't want to make your life any more difficult," she finishes, lamely.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin glances at Claxter and nods. <I hope that we do not...I have had enough of Terenia. And you need not worry greatly about Efaen, she will maintain contact with me or there will be consequences.> It is a measure of Ossanlin's tiredness that he volunteers any information regarding Efaen without being asked.
As he walks toward the Mirage, Ossanlin begins to feel somewhat sick, instead of merely weak. His fur ripples with waves of silver for a nanosecond, but he is too tired to notice. He moves a hand to his upper body's midsection as his straight path begins to veer unsteadily, as if he has had several drinks more than he should. He stumbles a bit more and falls against the side of a strange ship he might have recognized as the shell of a gutted and long-abandoned Featherian fighter if he had more presence of mind at the moment. His entire body continues to lean against its hull as he slowly slides to his knees, his vision graying. <I...I don't...feel......well.> With the last word his body finally slumps all the way to the ground, tail coiling limply on the ground beside him. He remains conscious and able to see as if through a foggy tunnel, but he can't seem to will any of his limbs to move. It seems to be more than exhaustion...someth ing feels wrong, or at least different.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Rathien~
Rathien opens his eyes again after napping for a bit. Watching the entrance had been uninvigorating to say the least. No one had bothered him on the roof, though he's certain he owes a portion of that to his active camouflage. He stands from his sitting crouch and walks to the back of the bar roof, leaping nimbly into a forward flip to land sturdily on both feet in front of the back door, camouflage still engaged.
He makes his way in through back and follows a long hallway all the way to the front. He leans in the door-frame of the hallway, noting the storage room near him where he could duck in if someone decided to use the hallway from either direction. The only acknowledgement of his presence is the slightest flicker of the Bar Tender's eyes in his direction. Somewhat unsettling, that. Rathien frowns a bit, obviously the proprietor of the establishment knew he was there, exactly where he was standing, but no one else so much as glanced indicating that his camouflage is still functioning perfectly.
He stares at Salem, the "human" plying his trade. Thoughts wander through his head. What's your game Dreamweaver? He sits here in front of me, one clean shot and his body would be torn into billions of molecular pieces, yet you do not tell me to kill. Of course there is no answer, there never is, not directly anyway. And what's yours Tobias? Bold that you say you want to hire me. Is it merely bait to pique my interest? He continues to gaze at Tobias, his eyes glinting silver-aqua fire behind his camo.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________
~Raile~
Raile senses the concentration of the Force disperse as well. "No, I can no longer feel it. I can honestly say I have never felt anything like that before. It felt as if...as if someone or something's presence in the Force grew almost exponentially. I have never heard of such a thing, but I suppose there are many odd species here." He thinks back on the strange blueish aliens he'd seen earlier. "I would admit to feeling very alone if I had not come across a bottle of Reserve...a piece of Corellia here demonstrates at least one prior connection with the Republic. Or perhaps I should call it the Empire now...everyone else seems to."
A wash of fear mixed with anger wells up inside Raile, but he quashes it mercilessly. He does not allow himself to think too deeply upon the "Empire". He is all too aware of the fact that his feelings could and most likely would fester and burn in hatred if he does. The Empire had destroyed everything he'd sworn to protect. The Empire had destroyed the Republic....The Empire had killed his former master, much more than just a teacher or a mentor. He had been a good friend, almost like the father he'd never been allowed to grow up with. He pushes his feelings away again. Serenity, peace...that was the way. Although he knows he should let go of everything he has lost and be no worse for it, he cannot and will not let go of his former master. The day would come...the Emperor himself would feel the wrath of the people he had trodden upon.
-
"All of that sounds interesting, though my DNA technically belongs to Jocun. How would the nanites react to the morphing power? I can already heal wounds just fine, so I'm not sure if it would be redundant or actually just be another layer of survivability. Jocun might be interested in this stuff, and it might not be too long before he's done feeding. I can let you talk to him through my communicator if you'd like."
Claxter noticed Efaen leave the ship, but didn't follow. He had said goodbye, and doing that once was all he felt he could do. Ossanlin sounded tiured anyway, and it wasn't too long before he showed other signs of weariness. <Prince Ossanlin!> He said as he collapsed. Claxter wasn't sure if it was just him being that tired, or something more, since he said he didn't feel well. They needed to get to the Mirage, so Claxter began morphing something that could help him. <Don't worry Prince Ossanlin. I'll get you to the Mirage, and we'll get you checked out.>
-
Corliss hitches a shoulder as he sops up the pool liquid on his hands and knees. "Why wouldn't you fit in?" he says, pausing to look up at her, sitting back on his haunches. He laughs lightly. "If you're judging your ability to fit in based on Myitt, for one thing, you're getting an absolutely skewed view of things. Reven...he's just busy as hell, and all those little hails we sent him, changing our minds about Efaen? Yeah, that probably didn't go over too well with him, but hey, it's not your fault."
He turns over one of the dryer cloths and starts at the last of the liquid. "Anyway, I'll help you feel at home, you know. Mike and I will. It's a big transition, and don't think you can make our lives any more difficult than they already are." He smirks at the metal tiles. "We made our own bed with that one."
-
Parker nods in understanding, apparently they succeeded separating Terenia from her host. He scanned his memories searching for the host's name, "Efaen. You've attained independence, congratulations. So where will you go now; back to your family? The rush of battle hasn't dug its claws into you as well, has it?"
Garreth nods slowly regarding Raile's mention of the disturbance. After he mentioned the bar's connection with the Republic, he raised his glass and replied, "They have Tarisian Ale as well. I'm not entirely certain this place recieves any actual shipments of any kind. It seems as though what we desire appears. Think on it, this is a universal nexus, connected to every universe. It seems to have food stuffs for every clientel. This establishment is far too small to contain all that by any conventional means."
-
Efaen's main eyes tighten ever so slightly. <I am a soldier,> she says flatly. <My job is to play an active role in the eradication of the Yeerk Empire. Returning to my Homeworld would hardly help meet those ends. Now more than ever, it is important that I am productive in this war.>
Terenia smiles at the floor, balling the wet rags up and pulling herself to her feet.
"Thanks, Corliss," she says quietly. "I feel like I'm thanking you a hell of a lot lately, but...well, I wouldn't be here - like this - if it weren't for you and Mike and I...I just appreciate you sticking with me, even if I'm a little crazy and trouble seems to follow me. But, well, what we talked about earlier and all...about being in a...you know," she shrugs, flushing. "As long as you and Mike are willing to keep me around, I'm happy to keep making your life more difficult."
-
Serid watches the Andalites depart the Skimmer's immediate area until they are out of sight, and then turns to look at Illim. "Well? What will you do now?" he asks.
"Wait," Illim shrugs, leaning against the outside of the ship's hull, folding his arms casually. "I need to follow them to the base, so I won't let them forget I'm here." He ****s his head, considering his friend. "You? You heading back with the silvery one?"
"He is my prince now," Serid responds. "I do not know on what manner of assignment he will place me, but perhaps it will involve activity on his ship. In any case, it will be difficult for us to communicate... although I trust you remember my comm's frequency."
Illim smirks. "Sure do. Let me know if the procedure works out for you, alright? I mean, if you can. I'll be glad to hear it."
The nothlit gives a calm nod. "Very well. Perhaps we will meet again at some other time; I wish you a safe journey to the rebellion and an effective battle alongside the Andalite people... even if they will not admit to the partnership." He gives a small, tight-eyed smile.
"Good luck to you too," Illim smiles in return, more warmly than before. He sighs as Serid turns to walk away in the direction that Ossanlin had gone.
-
<<Bye Serid.>> Derrel thinks silently.
Simon decided he might as well check on Jocun, since it had been a while. He hailed the ship. "Hey sir. How are you feeling?"
"Nothing quite like a good feeding to put me in a better mood. How's it going on your end?"
"Well I found out a few new things. Including the fact that our Andalite friend was holding out on us, and there was a rebel right in the room."
"I'm not surprised. These guys still think of the Empire as their enemy instead of the benevolent rulers we are."
"I also met a couple of friendly people to contrast the cold reception we've had. One is a trader, and one is a mercenary."
"Be careful around those two, though. Traders and mercenaries often love money above all else."
Claxter finished morphing, and pulled Ossanlin up into a sitting position. Carrying him would be an effort, and a little undignified for the Prince. <I don't suppose I'll be able to get into the Mirage by myself again. I forget if what I used last time will work again or not.>
-
Parker nodded with appreciation, "Good for you soldier," judging by her reaction to his question, he could tell she was offended by his assumption that she would return home, "I didn't mean to offend you, I assumed you were a civilian. Those of your species don't have clear indicators of rank or whether or not you're even in your military at all. I do-"
Parker's sentence is cut off by hearing a cry out for Ossanlin's name. He turns and sees Claxter morphing over a collapsed Ossanlin. He was changing into a morph, so it's unlikely that he had attacked Ossanlin. Parker looks back to Efaen and says, "I'm sorry, but I have to see if Ossanlin's okay." He ran away from Efaen with impressive speed, even by a quadraped's standard.
He stopped by the changing form of Claxter and Ossanlin's unconscious body. He looks to Claxter and asks, "What happened? Who attacked him?" He keeps an eye on his motion tracker to ensure noone else was around.
-
Claxter had his back turned, and Parker surprised him. He turned quickly, and his back hair bristled a bit. <Oh. Parker. He wasn't attacked. he's just exhausted from the procedure of giving Terenia back her body. I believe the less I say about her the better.> He said, remembering that Parker actually liked Terenia. <He just needs to get to his ship, and maybe have the computer look him over to make sure there isn't anything more serious than just tiredness.>
-
Parker was taken aback by the information about Terenia getting her body back. As he understood, she was stuck in that form for good. He set that information aside and nodded to Claxter, ignoring his comment about him watching his words around Parker's presence. He looked Ossanlin over, judging the best way to move him. It would not be easy to move him safely alone, no matter how strong one is. He looked Claxter over and asked, "What are you changing into? I can grab his legs under his torso, you grab his hind quarters. Thor will guide to the ship. You don't have your stalk eyes to guide us, and I'm much more accustomed to walking backward."
-
<I forget the name, but it's a simian creature from a planet I was at once. It's a good strong morph for carrying someone, though adult Andalites are also quite heavy. Thank you for your assistance.> He said as he grabbed his half. He told Parker which direction the Mirage was in, in case he wasn't sure.
-
Catie looked at the people as they were being introduced to her, "Nice to meet you." was all she said.
-
Keshin blinks, hearing Salem's comment about the nanites. It was true, wasn't it? Salem had injected them with something a while back in order to bring the two of them from death. Keshin really couldn't even remember the incident---he had been only half-conscious during part of it. But he still knew that the trader had taken him into his ship and attempted to hide them from the rebels.
"Come to think of it, yeah," said Keshin, scratching Joanne's hand through her hair. "We haven't lost control of Joanne's heart rate as quickly recently. I don't think the nanites can fix what's wrong with her, but they can slow down the effect a bit. We should be able to wait it out until Corliss owns up on our deal. But that's assuming we don't do anything else." Keshin snickers at that thought----it was horribly unlikely.
Keshin then turns to Simon with an odd look. "That's...weird. Because I'm pretty sure that in this same Bar, there's a world where the Empire loses. We tried to do a job involving that early. Didn't work. At least in your world there are probably a few more opportunities for cash. But we won't live to see it."
************************************************************************************
Mar stares at the Imperial, trying to size up her motivations. He did not like the idea of a Yeerk that looked like Terenia confronting Myitt: it was rife with potential for a firefight. It also seems peculiar. What sort of problem does this creature have with my Precious? Does he have some kind of direct history with her?
"Myitt does not recognize my face, but I know her from long ago," states Mar, crossing his arms. "We have both an accord and have spent years together she cannot grasp. If you mean to cause her pain, I will take issue with it. I have spent too long bending strings in order to protect her from potential threats."
-
"The life of a mercenary is usually short, but I get the feeling you're talking about some sort of illness. The Yeerks have technology taken from every species in the galaxy, and had over a century to work on even the most recent technology they gathered from their conquest. Maybe they have something for you, if you're willing to get on Jocun's payroll." He said. the communicator was still on, but Jocun didn't say anything in response to what he heard. He wasn't opposed to the idea, at the very least.
-
Silver awoke slowly, blinking at her new surroundings. She knew instantly where she was as she had been in her father's sick bay plenty of times. She noticed an attendant watching her and as soon as the attendant was sure she was awake, took off leaving the ship.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin is conscious of being hefted, though he can only see things through a foggy haze, his periperal vision surrounded by a black tunnel. Something feels off. He has no idea what but can only assume it has something to do with his excessive use of his abilities of late. He manages a few physical grunts as his body is moved, but is apparently unable of formulating or sending thought-speech at the moment. His mind feels cloudy...fuzzy...
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __________
~Raile~
Raile furroughs his brow as he regards Garreth's drink. "I...suppose. Though I find it hard to believe that anyone could replicate Whyren's Reserve this well." He pauses a moment. He's not felt anything dark from this stranger, though his senses are not terribly well-attuned. If a Sith lord could share a room with Master Yoda with the elder Jedi being none the wiser, certainly a Sith could disguise his presence from Raile's comparably meager senses. And he has no way of knowing how long the other has been present, or whether his stories about being from the Mandalorian Wars are true in any way. The only facts about the Wars he could verify by memory would be known by any Padawan learner. It merely seems that the other has accepted a highly unusual and irregular distortion in the fabric of space-time (if his stories were indeed true), with great ease and lack of curiosity...as if such a thing were commonplace and to be expected.
He had said he was not a Master either, a proper address would be to an equal. "Ah...Garreth, would you mind if I call you by your first name? At any rate, are these...distortions ..." Raile motions around with a hand indicating the bar and its surroundings, "...are they commonplace in your...region...of space?"
-
Parker lifts Ossanlin from under his front legs. He holds him up with one arm and erects Ossanlin's torso with his other arm, keeping him at a comfortable position while he is carried. He gives Claxter a nod that he wouldn't be able to see. Thor begins directing Parker which direction to walk inside his helmet. He moves fluidly, obviously unencumbered by Ossanlin's weight. He slows to allow Claxter to keep pace.
When they reach the Mirage, Thor speaks aloud out of Parker's helmet's speakers, "I'm afraid the vessel is sealed. There appears no way of opening it from outside." Parker asks to both Thor and Claxter, "So how do we get in?"
Garreth shakes his head answering both questions at once, "No, not at all." he continues, answering the second question, "This nexus is completely foreign to me. I couldn't begin to fathom how it even exists, given all of the possible paradoxes it may have caused or might cause. I merely accept that it is here, as we are here. It doesn't do one good to dwell on impossibilities they can't comprehend. I only guess at further possibilities within the assumption that this place is true. There are some mysteries we are not meant to know the secrets of."
The question did take Garreth off guard, however he would never show it. If he could keep his composure in a Mandalorian camp being tortured by his own lightsaber, he could answer a random question off the cuff without a problem. It was odd that this Jedi from his future would ask such a question. Were it commonplace for such disturbances for him, then it would be doubly commonplace for this future Jedi. It may be that Raile did not fully trust Garreth. It would be understandable, as his master and brethren were betrayed by the government and army they swore to protect. His trust would be even more difficult to gain.
He shows an understanding and compassionate expression on his face as he regards his new friend, "I am no charlatan, fellow Knight. I speak the truth when I say I am from when I say I am from. I understand your position and sympathize; however you will not be able to move on and heal yourself if you meet everyone from now on with suspicion and callus. I know your wounds are fresh, but you have to let them stay in the Past if you are to survive. What would your master tell you to do when you endured a failure or injury?"
-
She wasn't sure why the attendant had left, but she sat up and stretched, rubbing her temples. She bit her lip, realizing she had passed out on Parker....and she felt horrible about it. She stood, making sure she was stable and started to go look for Parker, to apologize.
-
~Raile~
Raile nods as Garreth speaks, but grimaces as the Knight speaks of being a "charlatan". Obviously Raile had been transparent, an open book...not what he'd meant to be. Either that or Garreth had an incredibly keen sense of him...but such a sense was highly uncommon amongst the Jedi of the Republic and as such, senses so close were normally only obtained by sharing a Bond. He looks away from Garreth as the other Knight speaks of his former master.
Raile remains silent, staring through the amber-coloured liquid in his tumbler, light diffracted by the glass and ice chunks within. He fights the surge of emotions that swell up at the mention of his old master. Sadness...fear...an ger. His eyes glare emerald fire through the glass as if it is a vision stone, capable of showing him the path to take. Before he had become Padawan to Master Slone, one of Raile's instructors as an apprentice, Master Korth, had once lectured about drives of the Dark Side. One of those lectures had been on revenge. He'd compared it to a dark forrest, easy to walk into, not so easy to return to where you started, and almost impossible to find your way back unscathed. The forrest would change you, twist you, make you into something you would not like.
Korth was almost certainly dead along with all the others. Raile's face twists in an unfriendly way before he schools his features again. The more he tried to understand his feelings, the more he had to feel. And the more he felt, the less he liked where his path was headed.
"A good thing that become a diplomat I did not..." He chuckles ruefully. "...if so easy to read I am." He feels a quick pang at the loss of Master Yoda's kindness and wisdom. Master Yoda himself had said Raile was too free with his emotions, too easy to read. He strove to live up to all the expectations, and to his former master's standards, but he was unsuccessful more often than not.
"I did not mean to offend...I apologize." He supposes the question had not been so cleverly worded as he'd thought. Any such distortions in Mandalorian space would've been well-documented...in theory he should know nearly anything Garreth would know, at least anything of grand import or noteworthiness, if Garreth is telling the truth. Such distortions would indeed be noteworthy.
He pauses again, thinking through his words carefully. "Master Slone..." He again represses a pang of sadness. "Master Slone was a bit... unconventional. 'Raile, you must understand everything that you can. When you feel something, you must truly feel it, you must see it from every angle, you must experience it. Then you must understand it. If you cannot understand, then you must accept that you cannot, and move on, but be wary of what you do not understand. You must never stop trying to understand things, but you must accept that you cannot know everything and you must let go of what you cannot accept. Do not be afraid to cherish life and all within it, but you must especially never fear to lose what you come to hold dear. Every loss brings with it more wisdom. Accept and endure. Live in the Force and you will come to understand.'" He quotes one of Nev-An's speeches and finally glances up at Garreth again for just a moment before returning his eyes to the glass and downing the rest in one gulp, his throat burning fire in protest.
-
<I don't have easy access to the ship, and it's possible that the machine I used to get on by myself last time only worked that once. However, the med bay on the Mirage is much better than what I have and I was hoping perhaps to rouse Prince Ossanlin enough for him to command the ship to open. I don't really know of any alternative medbay to put him in that wouldn't be barely adequate at best.>
-
Parker stood silent for a moment after Claxter spoke waiting for him to do something, anything really. After it was obvious he wasn't going to do anything, Parker spoke up, "So... you want to at least try to open the door? Theory is one thing, but who knows, maybe this time it'll work. It couldn't hurt to try."
-
It was becoming clear that Ossanlin wasout of it, so Claxter decided to try. <Mirage. Outer hatch open.> Claxter said loudly. He watched to see if it would work, or maybe Ossanlin would come around. <Prince Ossalin requires entrance.>
-
Morgan and Julian sat at a table looking over computer pads loaded with data from the CG facility Morgan had raided. Lately, Morgan hadn't been in his usual jovial mood, especially with the news Julian had brought him. That he was never human to begin with, that his Minotaur appearance was the way he'd been born. That there were more scattered throughout his verse just like him. His best friend Julian for example. But why did he have pictures in his head of being human, of Julian being human? What did it all mean?
Julian was getting fed up. Morgan had been through worse, he was certain, and come out unscathed. He slammed the pad he had down on the table.
"That's it! Forgive the expression, but you need to stop being so bull-headed, Morgan!"
Morgan looked up, confused about the outburst.
"It's true that the CG messed you up worse than you previously knew. But from what I've heard talking to Gaz, you don't usually mope like this. What happened to the good natured guy I used to know? You have a good crew behind you, friends here. You found your daughter after years of searching. That should all mean something. If you mope about this then the CG has won whatever perverse fight they were after."
Julian pulled out the photo he had placed down earlier. It showed a younger Morgan, Julian and Andromeda. Andromeda was holding a baby.
"Anti-Myth sentiments lead the CG to do something horrible to you and other Myths. Why they tried to make you think you used to be human...I don't know the answer to that yet. But this--" Julian pointed to the picture, "this is the man I grew up with. The man who became a successful cargo captain and married a good lookin girl and had a beautiful kid. Also chose a pretty good lookin' godfather if I do say so myself. Now, I'm going to get a drink and if you don't snap out of this soon I'm going to have to horse-kick you."
-
Vogefac wandered around the shipyard unsure of what had happened and what he should do next...perhaps he could communicate with Artemis telepathically? Unless of course, she lost her telepathy after returning from the Shadow Dimension. And he did not want to intrude on Artemis and Parker if they were busy becoming reacquainted. But...what else was he to do?
I could be vaporizing Kqorrians in the Andromeda galaxy with Frederick right now. But I had to return to the Bar...
He thought for a moment and remembered...neithe r Frederick, nor the Zetylon, his brand new ship, had returned to the Bar with him.
"Wonderful. What will the Military have to say if I return in a shuttle...and without my second officer. Well, I suppose I'll be returning without any of my bridge crew. After all, they were on the Zetylon."
He stopped, "I am talking to myself. This is not appropriate behavior...I must locate Artemis."
So at the risk of angering Parker, Vogefac called out to Artemis, {{Artemis...I am unsure if you are still able to reply, but I apologize for my behavior earlier. I wish to associate further with you and Parker.}}
He searched for her mind on the asteroid...not in the bar...in the shipyard. That ship there? Yes...her essence emanated from it. He walked over...but obviously it wouldn't be as simple as walking in.
{{Artemis...may I enter? If so, I will need your assistance. I am at the entrance to the ship. Please...if you accept my apology. I cannot bear being alone...}}
He stood by the door to see if she would let him in...
-
Efaen watches Parker speed off mid-conversation and almost follows. It was, after all, her own Prince that was suffering. She hesitates in following, though, knowing that his ailment is likely the result of exhaustion from the procedure he has just finished. Her presence would do little to assist him, and might in fact only make things worse. Besides, she thinks, with the procedure complete my primary concern is getting to the rebellion holdout as quickly and efficiently as possible.
She sighs and turns away from Claxter, Parker, and her Prince, heading instead towards the lake. She was still full from her run with Ossanlin earlier, but she felt the need to enjoy the sparse luxuries the planetoid had to offer. Her understanding of the rebellion thus far indicated that the base was likely underground, an idea that made her fur prickle with anxiety.
Zorish considers Mar for a moment, glad to see that Tamora's head is beginning to clear ever so slightly. He notices that the stranger uses female pronouns for Myitt, which is consistent with the host that he saw during their brief conversation previously. So he does know him, then, Zorish thinks.
"Myitt has caused me some pain of my own," Zorish says slowly, not wanting to commit to his intentions just yet. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure of his own intentions quite yet. "Or, at least, he will. I merely wish to speak with him regarding the situation. Do you have means of contacting him?"
-
Silver stopped as she reached the door to the sick bay when she got the mental message from Vogefac. He was apologizing and wanted to speak with her. Her senses told her he was outside the ship. She walked towards the entrance of the ship and sent to him, <<Apology accepted though I dont understand why you are apologizing. What is it you thought you did wrong?>> she turned the few halls and such until she reached the entrance. She exited the ship and found him waiting outside.
-
"So you're saying that you're still in contact with another person from your universe?" Keshin says with a look of doubt on his face. "You can technically do that from this Bar, but I've only ever seen Peace Movement rebels pull it off. They're all from the same place. I have no idea how the temporal warp in the Bar works, but numbers do seem to have some effect."
<Joanne, what do you think? If this guy's from a future where the Empire's just a bunch of normal people, they might have something that could be used to help us.>
<There's no way, Kess. We've been everywhere and nobody's got nothin'. Besides, how do we know this bloke's got it right 'bout his hometown? It could be a scumfest an' he wouldn' know. I know what that's like. An' we both know the Empire's like that one in Star Wars. It's too full of it to stay up.>
<What if the Peace Movement got control? Their ideals spread? Aren't you usually the optimistic one?>
<Not about this. We got hurt too many times.>
Keshin glances off and states, against Joanne's advice, "If this Jocun fellow can look us over and find something, Static Shock will do jobs for him. And we are excellent turelek."
************************************************************************************
Mar looks Zorish over with a suspicious air, pacing about the room. He wasn't sure whether he believed the Imperial or not. Mar was an excellent judge of this sort of thing, and he suspected the Yeerk was not telling the complete truth. But that didn't mean Zorish was lying, so there was no sense in calling him on it. It didn't really matter: he had not the slightest clue how to contact his Precious.
"I've heard of strange events at this Bar taking place, through mostly secondhand information," Mar says trying not to give too much away. He was pretty sure Terenia's "sister" was dead. "But it does not matter. I have no means of contacting Myitt because Myitt does not recognize or enjoy my company. I have a kind of power over her that she cannot tolerate or understand. She will inevitably return here, and I will defend her if necessary."
-
"Well, Jocun's main fleet isn't very far. If there's usually a problem making contact with the rest of the proper universe from this place, that might explain it. They're only about...an hour away? give or take? His luxury ship has a med facility that could take a look. What can you tell me of your problem?"
-
Salem tensed slightly as the beeping in his head began to change in frequency- first a drop and then an increase again. Assuming his system was still working, Rathien was on the move. Not that it should matter- the hunter wouldn't attack him at his current distance, not if he still believed Salem was strapped with explosives. Nevertheless, Salem's hand subconsciously inched towards his weapon.
He closed his eyes and attempted to feel his way around the area once again with his newfound sense. So many souls... such a press of energy. It was confusing... but the more he tried, the more he was beginning to be able to make sense of what he could feel. There seemed to be one soul... that he hadn't seen in here before. Behind him? That seemed about right. Would he be able to get a shot off? No. Not from here, and certainly not if Rathien was still invisible. He still couldn't associate the location of things in this sense with his other senses properly.
Might be worth bringing out my own... camouflage. Nothing I can do just yet.
He opened his eyes and turned back to Keshin. What the Yeerk was saying was true, wasn't it? Elayne, at least, had come from a universe in which the empire had been defeated. Simon's presence, if he was telling the truth, might just prove that the war was in a delicate balance, and it wouldn't take much to offset it.
He nodded, "Those nanites have helped me through a lot of hard times. They self-reproduce, so you're basically set for life. And," he looked at Simon, "they integrate well with the morphing technology. Makes them far more helpful to me."
He listened for a moment, "Simon, your 'benevolent empire' sounds great and all, but I've got to ask; what's happened to the Andalites in the world you come from? And what do they think of the situation?"
Al listened to the conversation between Zorish and Mar for a few minutes. Zorish had a pretty one-track mind, apparently. Typical Sub-Visser, he thought with a slight smile.
"Zorish, there's a limerick where I'm from. I don't know how well I can make it translate into Gallard, but the point is basically that if you spend too much energy dwelling on the future, only bad can come of it."
He ****ed his head at Mar. It sounded like the being's relationship with Myitt was more complicated than he'd originally picked up on. Interesting.
He turned to Ewa and Catie, "So, are you guys as bored as I am? We should find a way to spice up our lives around here."
-
"What is he saying about nanites?" Jocun asked over the communicator.
"He has some nanites that can keep me healty and help heal wounds, and according to him they work well with the morphing ability. It might be nice to have a little extra safety in case another assassination attempt happens or something. He just wants some DNA."
"I suppose it couldn't hurt. It's not like it's difficult to get a DNA sample from someone whether they give it or not. I'll just want some kind of paperwork saying he won't use it for illegal purposes."
"Ok Salem. Seems like we could write up a little contact and do this. As for the Andalites, there weren't really a whole lot that were captured during or after the invasion, but the ones who were born hosts more or less go along with it. They still think pretty highly of themselves like they used to. Jocun actually has some on his ship. They're normally used as security guards along with Hork-Bajir. They are better at combat than the Humans, Leerans, and others."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin sees his ship approaching...or rather watches as he himself grows closer to his ship. Why are his thoughts so muddled? <I.....I....Oh...> His wideband thought is a terrible effort it seems.
The Mirage's computer recognizes Claxter's thought-speech but denies entry until it picks up Ossanlin's muddled thought-speech. <Emergency medical protocals initiated.> The exterior hatch cracks and lowers the ramp. The entire ship but the med-bay locks down.
-
<Excellent!> Claxter said. With Parker's help he managed to get Ossanlin into the medbay and put him on the table. He wasn't sure if the ship itsself would get to work on its own, or if he should do anything manually.
-
"Let me make sure I understand you correctly," Zorish says to Mar, ignoring Al's jibe. "Myitt dislikes you, and does not desire your presence, yet you insist on defending her due to some sort of long dead opinion she held for you once upon a time?" He laughs harshly. "It sounds to me like you need to get over it." He brushes the arm of his uniform lightly.
"If you are certain that Myitt will return here, then I will remain here. The livelihood of my host depends on it, and she actually desires my protection."
-
Corliss wrings out the last of the pool liquid into the tiny sink on board the Skimmer, leaving them hanging over the metal edge to dry.
He glances over at Terenia. "Well, this is the sort of difficulty we reckon we can handle in our lives," he says, wiping his hands on his uniform and walking slowly over to her. He gives her a modest kiss on the cheek and smiles, tucking a few strands of her blonde hair behind her ears. "You seem to be taking this whole transition rather well."
-
Parker helps set Ossanlin on the examination table and stands back. He asks, "So, how does this work?"
-
<I don't really know how automated this is, or if the computer would follow any instructions by me, but hopefully it will scan Prince Ossanlin and give a readout on his current condition.>
-
Garreth listens Raile as he searches his memories and reminisces aloud. When he apologizes, Garreth waves it off and shakes his head. After hearing what Raile recalled as his master’s lessons, Garreth nods in agreement. He mentions, “Indeed. This is exactly what I have done. I cannot understand what this place is. So I accept it as Truth. Also, you must heed the latter message in the lesson. You must continue to cherish life. Your master is not dead; he is one with the Force now. All of those Jedi that were betrayed are all now one with the Force. You must grieve their passing and then accept it. Seeking to change or place judgment upon others is not our way. It is the way of the Sith. All you can do is continue to live and continue to teach others about the Force. It is up to you who have survived to carry on. As long as you survive and teach future generations, then the Sith will not have won.”
Parker shakes his head, unable to do anything other than make sure no one interferes.
-
"I guess," Terenia says, doubtfully, feeling her cheeks grow hot at Corliss and Mike's proximity. "It's strange. I feel like...I don't know, like this is how things are supposed to be. It's awfully quiet up here, though," she touches a finger to her temple and shrugs. "I guess I'll get used to it eventually. I don't know, right now I'm just glad to have eyes and ears to myself instead of having to rely on that Andalite anymore. She was beginning to get pretty annoying and..."
Terenia quiets abruptly, realizing that she is babbling. Her cheeks flush a brighter red and she roughly pulls away from him, turning to walk out of the storage room and into the main cabin, hoping he won't notice.
-
Silver stopped as she reached the door to the sick bay when she got the mental message from Vogefac. He was apologizing and wanted to speak with her. Her senses told her he was outside the ship. She walked towards the entrance of the ship and sent to him, <<Apology accepted though I dont understand why you are apologizing. What is it you thought you did wrong?>> she turned the few halls and such until she reached the entrance. She exited the ship and found him waiting outside.
Vogefac thought for a moment. Had he imagined the situation? It had seemed that Parker realized Vogefac's uncharacteristic... love...for Artemis. If you could call it "love." Vogefac was uncertain. His visionary gene gave him the trait for strange emotional attachments that normal Reptilinod would not get so easily, but he could not be sure he was not just...infatuated with her.
But no..maybe he hadn't. Artemis seemed very atone to the emotions of the beings around her but apparently she hadn't sensed it. Perhaps Vogefac had misread Parker...
Although, that was hard to believe considering Reptilinod of are telepathic.
{{Oh...um...never mind. I assumed you and Parker were upset at me for some reason I had yet to identify but apparently nothing happened. You both left in such a rush I just assumed...bt never mind. I was wrong.}}
The door opened...and she was standing there looking at him. He was still slightly nervous.
"...Do I have permission to enter? Whose ship is this?"
-
Corliss sighs and follows Terenia into the main cabin, looking around. "Where's everyone gone?" he breathes, itching at the back of Mike's messy black hair. He spies Derrel--and therefore Illim--outside the hatch, but the speed with which everyone had left was still a shock.
Then again, they had been in the storage room for some time. He smiles at Terenia's back.
<<God,>> Mike sighs. <<I can't believe we met a well fit bird, here, of all places. Mad, that is.>>
The smile reaches Corliss' eyes as he and his host regard her.
Yes, it was worth breaking up the party.
"Reckon we should try and find Efaen, and finally get off of this rock," Corliss says quietly, coming up beside Terenia.
-
Ewa stretched her neck over to one side as she listened to Mar and Zorish's conversation. I wonder if this Myitt person actually comes and goes from this place, or if it's just for the sake of some side plot. If someone really were able to leave, it wouldn't make much sense to come back unless there was a huge rescue operation underway. And this whole conversation feels too obvious for it to be something real. Unless it's a double bluff. Triple bluff. Hard to know what to go for when you don't know who you're up against.
"Zorish, there's a limerick where I'm from. I don't know how well I can make it translate into Gallard, but the point is basically that if you spend too much energy dwelling on the future, only bad can come of it."
He ****ed his head at Mar. It sounded like the being's relationship with Myitt was more complicated than he'd originally picked up on. Interesting.
He turned to Ewa and Catie, "So, are you guys as bored as I am? We should find a way to spice up our lives around here."
Ewa rolled her head back up and over to look at Al. "I could go for a change of scenery." She stretched her arms out in front of her restlessly. "Is there anything to do here besides be in this bar?" And was that friendly advice about not worrying too much about the future, or a warning?
-
Terenia nods, completely oblivious to Corliss's staring.
"Yeah," she agrees. "I'd like to put as much distance between myself and this stupid bar as possible. Ever since I got here it's been one damned thing after another." She hesitates slightly, thoughts of her dead sister mingling with memories of a kiss, stolen in the shadow of a Bug Fighter.
"Although I guess not all of it has been bad," she admits.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin is aware of himself being set upon the physical support frame in the med-bay...those were always so uncomfortable.
*
<Emergency medical protocals active...commencing preliminary operations.> The computer's slightly mechanical female voice sends in an open thought. The suspension field activates around Ossanlin's body and lifts him off of the physical support, suspending him much more comfortably. The computer scans and gives a readout on the physician monitor.
"Preliminary scan complete...
No physical anomalies detected.
Subject partial consciousness. Extreme lethargy. Subject partially responsive. Possible non-physical neurologic decay.
Recommended treatment ... UNKNOWN ...
End preliminary scan...
Begin stasis vital monitoring..."
*
Ossanlin cannot read the monitor he knows must be displaying his condition...or would it? He couldn't remember...if only he could think clearly.
A fleeting thought slips through his mind and slips away. Then again...he grasps for it...Mar...and it is gone again.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __________
~Raile~
Raile grabs the bottle and pours another tumbler of fine whiskey, sipping it immediately. "One with the Force...we are all but destroyed. A Sith commands the Republic...a Sith. He has perverted it...calls it an "Empire". The people follow him, and they will continue to follow out of fear. I cannot sit idly by whilst his evil infects everything I have lived for and fought so very hard to protect like some sort of black cancer. He must be taken down..."
He sips again, repressing all emotion. He'd not done that in a very long time, he'd not had to. Before he'd become Master Slone's Padawan learner, he had dealt with his emotion by repressing it. Master Slone had told him that was not the way. He had given Raile a lecture about the difference between two archaic swords...one rigid and unbending, the other somewhat supple and able to flex with each blow. Since then Raile had brought forth his emotions and felt them completely, dealing with them as they came and moving on. But this time, the surge of anger had been powerful. Powerful enough that his compatriot might've been able to feel it even without reaching out had Raile allowed himself to truly feel the emotion. He knew where anger led as any other trained Jedi did, and the last thing he wanted was to alienate this one slim connection he had to his old world.
He smirks a bit ruefully. "Brave words coming from one who has tucked his tail and fled the conflict, eh?" He glances over at Garreth once again, allowing himself to feel a bit of the self-loathing construed by his voice.
-
<Nonphysical neurological damage? What does that mean?> Claxter said, mostly to himself. The treatment was unknown, which concerned him more. It must be because of the powers that he used. claxter flinched at the thought of Ossanlin being permanently damaged or even dying just to do something for Terenia who didn't even deserve it. Who did he know that might be able to help?
<I think I need to find Mar.> He said to Parker. <Watch the ship please.>
He raced out of the ship to the bar, and found Mar inside. He didn't know how much time he had, but it would be best to be polite. <Excuse me Mar.> He said as he walked up. <Something is wrong with Prince Ossanlin that has to do with his silver blade powers. Do you think you could come to the Mirage and look at him please?>
-
Catie suddenly realized AI was talking to both of them now.
"Uh...yea. I came here looking for adventure," she smiled, "Got any on ya?"
She assumed nothing "exciting" was going to happen...but anything's gotta be better than sitting in this bar watching the day go by.
-
Keshin bites his lip, looking a bit perturbed by Simon's question. If they told him what was wrong with Joanne, they'd be telling a perfect stranger about one of their biggest weaknesses. If they didn't tell him, they might be wasting an opportunity to fix it. He seemed genuine enough. Keshin knew that Joanne disliked his decision here, but he had to try. It was important.
"We process energy...incorrectl y," states Keshin unsteadily, shifting Joanne's weight. "When Joanne's body turns food and other chemicals into glucose, the cell processes that do this also create some kind of...let's call it an irregular waste byproduct. This byproduct wreaks constant havoc on the bloodstream and probably a dozen other organs. Mostly it effects Joanne's circulatory and nervous system, causing them to work much faster than the speeds for which they're designed. Her body can't handle the pressure. Without Yeerk medicine, she would have been dead years ago from either a heart attack or cancer. She didn't know it, but she was dying when we met."
****************************************************************************
Mar snarls at Zorish's callous statement, very nearly baring his canines like a set of fangs. "What do you know, Yeerk? I have known Myitt longer than most of her close friends, through Time itself. She is very rarely enamored with me, but that will not end my assistance. I have very little else to---"
Mar whips around, suddenly noticing Claxter. Ossanlin's blasted little stooge. He's rambling about...what was he saying? Mar's body slowly untenses and returns to normal. The War-Prince was in some kind of trouble. Mmm. Best to trail the Andalite and find out what was wrong. Mar then glances back at Zorish and responds rather evenly, "Sweet Myitt will come. I may not know what is said, but I will know if she encounters any trouble."
Mar then turns to Claxter and says, "I will come to the Mirage with you. Take me to see the War-Prince."
-
"I see. We may need to get a doctor, but while she's coming we can still run some tests in Jocun's ship." Simon said, getting up. "We can do this now if you're feeling up to it. salem, you're free to come and offer some moral support and whatever else you may be able to help with." He figured Keshin would feel better if a friend was with her, though he didn't know how close they were.
Claxter's tail twitched when mar glared at him. Apparently whatever conversation he was having with Zorish was annoying him. Hadn't Claxter already told her everything she needed to know? Did she really have to wait for a chance to talk to Myitt? He made no comment to him. <Thank you.> claxter told Mar, and started making his way out and back to the Mirage
-
Corliss grins briefly at Terenia. "Yeah," he says, gently touching her arm. "You're right, it hasn't been all bad."
He's broken out of his reverie by the open hatch, and he clears his throat, looking away. "So, um, reckon we should call her then." He brings up the main holoscreen. "Can you tell which one's her, then?"
-
Julian came back with two drinks and put one in front of Morgan. "You're not going to let this bug you, right? You're no fun this way."
Morgan sighed. "It's a lot to take in. But...yeah. I'll be fine."
"Good, I was afraid I'd have to beat some sense into you."
Morgan snorted. "Sure."
-
Terenia frowns at the glowing symbols on the screen. "Um..." They are all familiar to her, but in the way that Egyptian hieroglyphics are familiar to someone. She knows that they have meaning, and can tell that they are Yeerkish, but she can't seem to create sense out of them in her head.
"Oh, ****," she mutters, glancing at Corliss. "Um, Corliss? Say something in Galard."
-
"What?" Corliss replies, brow furrowing. He looks from the screen to the dismay registering on her face. Then, hesitantly, he says in Galard, "Uh. Hello, can you understand me?"
-
As with the writing, Corliss' words sound painfully familiar to her ears, but nonsensical. One hand find its way to her temple, pressing there, as though there might be a button there to act as a translator. Translator... she thinks, making the connection. Oh.
"That damned Andalite severed the connection with my translator chip!" she cries. "I can't understand a word you're saying, except in English." Her gaze drifts to the holoscreen again and she squints, trying desperately to make the squiggles there turn into words and designations. "****."
-
Corliss blinks. "You mean to say that...that whenever you spoke Galard," he says slowly, "you were just letting the translator chip...of course. Well. You must remember a few words of it?"
He rubs at the back of his neck. "Bloody hell," he mutters. "You're lucky I'm not French."
-
Terenia shakes her head. "I remember dapsen," she says with a wry smile. "But no, that's Yeerkish, isn't it. Or is it? ****, I don't know. It doesn't make sense!" She glares at the holoscreen accusingly, her mouth set in a thin line. "What use am I going to be to your rebellion if I can't understand a damned thing anyone says to me? Or gives me to read?"
-
"There are plenty of humans back at the base, humans without Yeerks, who continue to serve with us of their own volition even though they no longer wish to allow infestation," Corliss says with a shrug. "It's not as though we want to force them, and most of them don't know a word of anything but English." He places an encouraging hand on her shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. "You'll be fine, love."
He peers up at the screen full of hovering icons and Yeerkish text, exhaling. "Right, then. Let's get to it." He starts clearing the screen of any signals that are not Andalite or Yeerk in origin. "Does she have a comm link on her?"
-
Terenia nods, feeling strangely calmed by his hand on her shoulder. She lets her frustration simmer, watching him work.
"Yeah," she says, taking a deep breath. "She still has my holster, although hell if I know if she has my Dracons at this point. She should have my comm link, though. It'll read as Imperial."
-
He nods and clears the screen of the Andalite signals with a couple of taps and a swipe of his hand.
"Luckily for us the only signals that read as Imperial, besides our own--security reasons of course," he says, glancing at her and back to the screen, "are right here. We have four choices. Reckon yours would be the one with a Blade Ship clearance code, yeah? Maybe, uh, Zorish as well."
Eager to focus on anything but Terenia's twin sister, he hastily highlights the Imperial signal icons and starts opening up the streams of code that run beneath the communications system.
-
Terenia scowls, not even remotely interested in revisiting her dead sister or his Yeerk. "Yeah, he probably has an Imperial link as well, with the same clearance as mine." She frowns, "Don't call him on accident, alright? I'm sick of the drama around this damned place, and I am done with them. I just want to go -" she almost says 'home', but stops herself, the word seeming wrong, considering that she has yet to set foot on rebellion soil.
"I just want to go," she repeats lamely.
Zorish is about to respond to Mar, but he is distracted by the overly helpful Andalite. He feels his lip curl slightly, but does not pursue the strange man or the Andalite.
<<He has assured us that Myitt will return,>> Zorish says to Tamora, leaning back in the booth, paying little attention to the others around him. <<That is good enough. We will wait.>>
<<Can we wait in the ship?>> Tamora asks. <<My head hurts.>>
-
Silver tilted her head slightly at Vogefac as he seem to slightly stumble with his words. That wasn't like him at all. "Are you sure you are all right?" she asked him. "This is my father's ship. Was there something inside you needed? No offense, but I would rather be out here, I have had enough of my fair share of sick bays and ships....." she said with a soft grimace, though the scar pulling the corner of her mouth made it harsher than she had meant.
-
Garreth furrows his brow as the Jedi reiterated the condition his Time was in. Just by his speech pattern, Garreth could tell this Jedi had been taken by anger. He was doing a good job of suppressing it; but suppression only causes that anger to grow. His suspicions were confirmed when Raile had lashed out subtly by accusing Garreth of desertion. Garreth steadied his face and spoke plainly, "As I said earlier, I was on my way to Curoscant before I was diverted to this place. I did not leave the galaxy as you did. My path was to inform the counsil that some of our brethren were taken hostage. I did not flee battle, for there was no battle from which to flee. The Jedi Counsil has forbade us from aiding the Republic in battle.
"I do not appreciate such accusatory judgments. These are not the ways of our Order. Your attitude and demeanor are beginning to reflect those of the Sith. You know the path your actions take you; yet it seems as though you would rather bask in your anger and follow that path, rather than exercise your anger and continue on the path of a Jedi. Do you feel you are doing your master a disservice by letting go of that anger and hurt? That to strike down or back at the Sith with all your emotions and power would somehow honor his memory?"
Parker nodded his head to Claxter as he left and took post at the ship's ramp
-
~Raile~
Raile is actually taken aback. The other had taken offense at something... "What accusations did I make?" He pauses a moment to think things through as he should've before speaking. "I was referring to myself when I spoke of fleeing battle...that I speak bold words but my actions say otherwise." Apparently Raile had hit a soft spot though he certainly hadn't meant to. He truly had meant the comment to be about himself and nothing else. On some level thought, this Jedi was defensive, perhaps somewhere along the line he felt as though he had fled battle and felt guilty about it. Raile falls to silence at the mention of anger and disservice to his master. He feels none of his emotions as they stir. It was so much easier that way.
-
(Reminder: Julian is like Morgan. Except horse features instead of bull. He's tannish-brown with his black "mane" cut short like a crew cut. He wears sleeveless vest like tunics and pants. No shoes, obviously. He carries both a gun and a sword.)
Instead of another drink, Julian opted for a cup of coffee. After staying up late reading over CG research notes, he was tired. He had just convinced Morgan to take a breather.
Morgan and Gaz were inside, having a talk about old times or something. Either way, Morgan was finally getting back to his old self. Julian decided he would finally go take a look at Morgan's ship, maybe check up on Asda. He'd heard the doc wasn't too bad lookin.
He sipped on his coffee as he strolled across the way to where Morgan's ship was parked. It was a good ship, no doubt about that. Morgan had taken good care of it. As he got closer he saw Silver and someone else. Hard to believe the young woman Silver saw was his godchild. Last he'd seen her she was a tiny little thing.
"Silver," Julian greeted after a sip of coffee.
-
Silver heard her name and looked up from talking to Vogefac when she seen, her father's friend, Julien. Her Godfather.... "Hello, Julian. How is my father?" she asked. Last she had seen her father, he had been beside himself, learning that we were never human to begin with. She still wasn't sure what to think about it al then. Why she had memories of the needles and the tests and that horibble lab. She mentally shook herself to rid herself of the memories.
-
"Doing much better," Julian replied, "think he's finally gettin back to his old self. Just had to talk some sense into him. He always was a little bull-headed. No pun intended." Julian paused and chuckled. "I take it back. Maybe I did intend it."
Julian looked at the outside of the ship. "Nice ship Morgan's got. Much better than his old one. Least from the outside."
-
She laughed at his joke. When he turned to admire the ship, she turned and looked. "She's held her own. Sadly, Though a beautiful ship, most of my time was spent in the sick bay. I wish I wasn't in there so much..." she said looking at the ship.
-
Keshin laughs at Simon's mention of Salem. This guy was oblivious: he had no idea what was going on in this Bar at all. He supposed Salem was his friend, but it was very vague. He knew just from the trader's speech that even though the man had helped him before, it meant absolutely nothing. Salem was like them: one deal and he'd be pointing a Dracon at Joanne's head.
<We shouldn' be doin' this deal, Kess. Messin' with the future screwed us once. We dunno if this guy's even got what we need. Do we really wanna poke our heads in a future where the Yeerks win?>
<That's a future with a lot of deals in it. We need that future, human morality aside.>
Keshin smiles wryly at Salem. "You can come if you want. We're going to go forward with the deal being offered by this Jocun guy."
*****************************************************************************************
Mar follows Claxter, a tolerant but irritated expression on his face. The little Andalite was helping him get to Ossanlin, but he wasn't fond of the idea that the War Prince had a yes man. It was out of character and suggested that his old friend was more fond of strange Bar deals than he thought. Or at least that Andalite culture breeded these idiots like rabbits.
"What are his symptoms?" says Mar, continuing forward. "I cannot make a judgment unless I have some idea of what's wrong."
-
Illim looks up from picking at the dirt under Derrel's nails and stares off in the direction that Serid had wandered off in a few minutes before.
He sighs and glances back at the Skimmer, but his attention is drawn within at the sound of an exasperated expletive. Illim curiously mounts the ramp, wandering inside the ship. "Everything alright in here?" he asks in his usual, lazy tone.
Serid reaches the Bar's door, hesitating a moment before pushing it open. Truth be told, he's not ready for much but a nap... or better yet, a full night's sleep. Still, there is nothing to do but wait on his new Prince, and he certainly does not want to miss his ride.
Taking a few steps inside the building, he sinks into a chair at an empty table near the door, turning his dark, curly head to survey the room's occupants. An eclectic crowd, as always, it appears.
Elayne inhales sharply as she emerges from sleep and opens her eyes, blinking against the light. The woman sits up slowly from the sunken-in corner booth seat on which she has been napping for an uncertain period of time--although judging by the fact that she doesn't feel refreshed, it hasn't been long enough. Her first instinct is to look around for Mar, but a cursory glance of the room suggests he is elsewhere. Her thoughts turn to her other friend. Trey... she thinks his name, her head swiveling side to side.
-
"Whatdya say we give ourselves the two bit tour?" Julian asked. "Morgan and Gaz are in there swappin stories or whatnot, far be it from me to interrupt.
Julian was moving up towards the entryway to peek inside.
-
Terenia scowls at Illim's abrupt intrusion, taking a hasty step away from Corliss to put some space between them. "Everything's fine," she snaps. "What's it to you?"
She folds her arms across her chest, glaring from Illim to the uncooperative scribble on the holoscreen.
Trey is fast asleep, curled up on the bench of one of the booths that is deep in shadow. The dirty bandage on his head is beginning to soak through again, but he is oblivious.
-
<The computer mentioned there was some non physical neurological damage, I believe. He collapsed, but he said he believed something was wrong before falling into the semi conscious state he's in now. He may be completely unconscious at this time. He used his special abilities to give Terenia back her body, and the process has had a negative effect on him. It was successful, but if the price he pays is his life or some sort of permanent damage...I just hope he doesn't have to suffer for that ungrateful obnoxious Human.> Claxter said.
Simon got up, and communicated with the ship to get the medbay ready to do some scans. He also had the ship activate Class B security protcols, which was standard procedure when allowing anyone onto the ship that wasn't completely trustworthy. "Let's head out, then." He said, leading the way.
-
Corliss sighs. "I want to get off this rock, too," he murmurs, hesitating, Mike's hand hovering over the two choices.
He glances over at Illim and Derrel as the Yeerk reappears in the cabin. "Everything's perfect," he lilts, his expression stony. "Just about to figure if we're calling Efaen or a Sub-Visser."
He winces and taps at the icon slightly closer to the ship.
"Okay," he breathes. "Hail sent. I alerted them on visual." Anxiously he chews on Mike's lip, shifting his weight as the hail attempts to patch through.
-
Silver shrugged and with a smile to Vogefac saying that he could come as well, since he would like to see the inside as well. Her conversation with Vogefac wasn't finished yet. She was curious as to why he would think there was a problem with her and Parker towards him. Her senses had been messed up earlier from all the shock and now they seemed to be down again. What was wrong with her, why can't she control her powers??
-
Silver tilted her head slightly at Vogefac as he seem to slightly stumble with his words. That wasn't like him at all. "Are you sure you are all right?" she asked him. "This is my father's ship. Was there something inside you needed? No offense, but I would rather be out here, I have had enough of my fair share of sick bays and ships....." she said with a soft grimace, though the scar pulling the corner of her mouth made it harsher than she had meant.
"Of course, I am fine. What would lead you to believe something was wrong?", he answered her question, and asked his own.
"Your father's ship...interesting. No, I did not need anything. I assumed you would want to return to the interior, but if we wish to remain here that is also fine. And...yes. Medical bays are never very welcoming really...", he trailed off. Suddenly, someone else approached...
Artemis and this...Julian, were about to take a tour of the vessel. Artemis smiled to suggest he come too.
"Yes, excuse me Julian. May I be allowed to come along to? And if so, will this craft support my height?", the 6'5" reptilinod asked.
-
Illim raises an eyebrow but chooses to ignore Terenia's question and, moreover, her barbed tone.
Instead he offers Corliss a mild, "G'luck then," and settles down in the weapons console chair at the other end of the control panel, watching the situation unfold curiously. "Let me know if you'd like me to do anything useful," he adds with a smirk as he crosses his right ankle over his left knee and leans back.
<Feels good to sit for a while,> he remarks to his host.
-
Salem laughed. "A contract? Sure, I guess we could draw something up. I think you're used to dealing with more lawful types than me."
He stood up and stretched, then smirked at Keshin, "I guess I can come and keep an eye on you." He turned to Simon, "Sounds like I need to talk to Jocun directly, anyway, right?" He followed Simon out the door.
Al watched as Claxter arrived, said a few words to Mar, and left. He turned to Catie and laughed, his eyes twinkling. "No adventure on my person at the moment, per sé. It's one of those things that winds up being kind of hard to find when you're looking for it. It'll always manage to show up at the most inopportune time." He winked, "It's more fun that way."
He nodded towards Ewa, "A change of scenery sounds nice. This bar gets a little stuffy at times. Fancy a walk?" he asked, standing up and gesturing towards the door. "You're welcome to join us, Sub-Visser," he said, smiling towards Zorish.
-
<<Relaxation can sometimes be taken for granted, so teake a minute here and there when possible I suppose. God knows Terenia needs a chill pill.>> Derrel said.
"Yep. Jocun will have the final word on what gets done to me. Just make sure that when you get on the ship, don't touch anything." Simon said. Shortly after exiting the bar, they made it to the ship. It was a sleek, stylish craft suitable for a Visser. The hatch opened as the computer detected him approaching. "Welcome to our personal vessel. It has just about everything you could want in a luxury craft. I can spend weeks in this thing without getting bored, which is good when we have to take a trip between planets and the flow of Z-Space doesn't line up nicely."
-
Terenia promptly ignores Illim as soon as he takes a seat, turning back to the holoscreen to see who picks up, her hands balled into fists, knuckles white at the prospect of confronting Zorish again.
She relaxes about an iota when it is Efaen's face that appears on screen, responding to the hail.
"Yes, Yeerk?" she asks, the computers translating her thought-speech. Her main eyes are tight at the corners, but she isn't quite glaring. Her expression is otherwise cautious.
-
Silver laughed softly. "Of course it will. You have my permission to be on the ship. My father trusts you, as you have saved my life many times." she smiled. She touched his arm slightly to show him it was all right, then followed Julian inside waving Vogefav after her.
-
As Artemis turned to enter the ship, Vogefac smiled - something he does not often indulge in. He walked in adn followed Artemis and Julian.
"What class of ship is this?", he asked, though unfamiliar with its systems and things which would probably have made more sense to ask.
-
Julian commented, "I should hope it can manage your height seein as how I'm about the same size. That and Morgan's a tad bit taller."
He walked inside and looked around. "Don't know much about ships myself, Morgan was the cargo captain. I would say this is a Griffyn class ship, falls in the mid-size category. Can handle either cargo, passengers or both. This seems to be the lower level with the main cargo bay, shuttle bay and engine room. As you can see we came in through the shuttle bay."
In the center of the room was a small shuttle craft made to hold three people at the most.
-
"Yes, uh, Efaen we're quite ready to leave this blasted rock, if you would be so kind as to accompany us?" Corliss asks the Andalite girl, not bothering to hide the testiness in his voice.
-
"I will return to your ship immediately," Efaen says, her tone just as testy. She cuts the feed, not letting the conversation linger, and puts her comm link back into her holster, beside one of Terenia's dracons.
Inhaling deeply, Efaen looks around the open area surrounding the bar one last time. The lake is calm, and a gentle breeze makes it almost seem pleasant. If she kept her stalks faced forward she could almost pretend that she was on the Homeworld. But it is not so, she reminds herself firmly. And you have your duty.
Turning from the lake, Efaen takes in the dilapidated bar and the overcrowded shipyard. It is much more dismal to look at than the lake, but she walks towards it nonetheless, eager to leave this part of her life and begin her next mission.
For once, she manages to cross the shipyard unimpeded. When she arrives at the foot of the Skimmer she pauses for only the briefest of moments before ascending the ramp, leaving the open sky behind her.
<I am prepared to depart upon your orders,> she says to Corliss as she clears the ramp. She does bother so much as looking at Terenia or Illim, despite having the eyes to spare.
-
<<Are we going to duck out quick, or are we going to chance riding with these three? Four?>> Derrel said, counting Mike after a second thought.
-
Corliss sits back in the nav seat, swiveling restlessly as he awaits Efaen's arrival.
"Dunno if she'll be as prompt as she sounds," he says with a mild shrug.
In the interminable silence Efaen finally appears, and Corliss sits up.
"You're really ready to leave, then?" he says, scarcely believing the Andalite girl's words. "Alright then. Yeah. Yeah, um. Everyone, find your seats, then. Make sure you're strapped in proper. Erh."
He taps at the holoscreens in front of him, idly pulling the living metal restraints over his shoulders. "Computer, close exterior hatch." As the Skimmer's engines whir beneath them, he finally allows himself to grin.
"Bloody hell, mates," he says to all within the cabin. "We're finally going home."
Slowly, with the care and hesitancy of a living creature, the leg-like landing gears of the Skimmer pick up from the soft earth, and the lobster larva ship hovers, black and glaring with four red eyelike windows, several feet above the ground. Blue gases hiss from beneath the ship as the leg gears retract, but the baleful crimson stare remains, casting a deep glow over the windows of the Bar.
-
"A walk would be nice," Ewa replied to Al. Get an idea of how large an area we have to work with here. She slid her drink back and forth between her hands a couple of times and then finished it all in one gulp. Should have done that when it was still a bit colder, she thought, but her expression remained politely bored. No point in offending the Sub-Visser over something like a drink.
"Well then," she stood and stretched her shoulders a bit. "What are we off to see?"
-
<<I guess we are, for better or worse.>> Derrel said. <<It's been an interesting experience, and if we can all get there without anyone dying or being grievously injured, our new lives will begin.>>
-
An octoped clambers in.
This is stretching matters a bit; the creature doesn't actually have eight legs, or at least not eight that are being used as legs. Rather, one of its equally-spaced limbs seems to be nervously clutching something, while the other seven ungainlily propel it across the floor.
The creature eventually makes its way up to the bar. "Hello," it says, the voice coming out of a hole on the top of its body. "One Nagrin Blend, if you please."
-
Zorish raises his eyebrows as yet another unfamiliar creature makes its way into the bar.
<<Interesting,>> he comments quietly to Tamora. <<It appears the Empire has a much wider space in which to stretch its palps than we ever knew.>>
<<Do you think you can bring the Empire here?>> Tamora asks. Zorish shrugs his host's shoulders, sipping his water and watching as the silent bartender gives the octoped a baleful look and sets aside the glass that he is ever-cleaning to prepare the requested drink.
When he returns, he sets the drink down in front of the octoped, pulls a small, battered notepad from his shirt pocket, and flips to a well-worn page, showing it to the new patron.
It reads: Cash or Tab?
-
The octoped reaches for the glass with the limb next to the one still clutching the small, plastic object, and raises it to its mouth, taking a short sip.
"Hmm," it says, pausing the drink to put it back on the bar. "I will pay with cash, but I left my money outside. You can start a tab until I go back and get it."
-
Illim nods in mute agreement with his host. <<It should be a smooth ride. You know, assuming the Andalite doesn't get too testy. Or Terenia for that matter.>> He glances at the holoscreen readout that confirms his Madra is in tow, and then sits back in the chair, settling in for the trip to the base.
Serid starts as the strange eight-limbed creature enters the door not far from where he is sitting, and he watches curiously as it approaches the bar.
What is this species? he wonders, tempted to order a drink so that he can find out. Leaning back in his chair to peer out the dingy window, he finds no sign of Ossanlin outside, so he tips his chair back forward and follows the peculiar newcomer at a distance.
Elayne yawns and, after a cursory survey of the ramshackle building does not reveal Mar, she begins searching for Trey. He is not difficult to find, however, curled up fast asleep just one seat away. With a small smirk, she watches the boy rest, tempted to wake him up. She sinks back into her filthy, cushioned chair, drapes one leg over the other and dangles her foot while she waits, but the waiting doesn't last long. Her boredom wins out and she leans over to shake Trey's shoulder lightly.
-
The bartender puts his notepad away, looking unimpressed, and returns to cleaning his glass.
Zorish drains his water and rises, taking the glass with him up to the bar counter. "Another water," he says to the bartender, pushing his empty glass over. While he waits for his order to be filled he looks the strange species up and down without bothering to be discreet.
"And what manner of species are you?" he asks bluntly, flipping Tamora's hair over her shoulder.
Trey grunts in his sleep, his eyes opening ever so slightly.
"Whaddyawant?" he slurs, reaching a uniformed arm up to wipe drool from the corner of his mouth.
-
A new ship enters the bar, looking like a dragon woth an engine in the back instead of a tail. When it landed, out came a Humanoid dragon with huge wings that did have a tail. "Well, I'm back." Zoshonel said. He walked over to the bar, taking in the sights and smells. He noticed Parker's scent was fresh, so he must be here. Unfortunately he also noticed Keshin's scent. He didn't like Keshin, and it annoyed him that she was still here. He never understood why Corliss would submit to blackmail when he obviously didn't have to, but that was his problem. He decided to follow Parker's scent, which mingled with Claxter's and led away from the bar.
He saw Claxter and Mar walking towards a ship, and casually strolled towards them. Claxter's stalk eye spoted him, and he gave a short wave.
<Welcome back Zoshonel. We're kind of busy, so we can't stop and chat.>
Zoshonel nodded and kept moving.
-
"Of...species?" repeats the creature dubiously. Its "back" legs (the pair opposite Zorish and Tamora) tap up and down on the floor, as if nervous. "I...I am Sheyran."
-
Zorish tilts his head ever so slightly, taking up his cup of water and sipping slowly. Tamora is definitely becoming less light-headed now, he notes. A good thing for him. The last thing he wants is to provoke an unknown alien while his host is drunk.
<<Sheyran, sound familiar?>> Zorish asks his host, sizing up the strange creature.
<<You would know better than me,>> comes the reply. This is true, and Zorish can see nothing from Tamora's memories to indicate any knowledge of this species.
<<I wonder if they can be infested,>> he murmurs, surreptitiously surveying the Sheyran for something resembling an auditory orifice similar to that in humans. <<Or if they even have a centralized brain.>>
"Welcome to the bar...Sheyran," Zorish says, shifting so that he is facing the creature, leaning one elbow on the bar counter casually. "My name is Zorish Five-Eight-Three. I trust you have a name as well?" He doesn't bother introducing Tamora. He never does.
-
The Sheyran is, somewhat like an Earth octopus, rather radially symmetric, with its eight limbs extending down from a large, round body. It also has eight eyes, distributed around the body with one above each leg. If you looked closely, you would see a small hole of sorts on each "knee."
So it's a little hard to tell whether it's facing forwards, but it seems to be attending to Zorish and Tamora, more or less. "Yes. I am..." After a moment it gives up on translating its title into Galard; it would sound about as stupid as "Five-Eight-Three." "I am Fybmufe-Pof Bivsitz."
-
Serid slowly approaches Zorish and the unfamiliar octopod, giving a pleasant nod of greeting, belatedly hoping the action is not some kind of rude gesture in Fybmufe-Pof's culture. "Greetings," he says cautiously as he reaches them, turning his gaze on the alien. "I see you have already been greeted. I am called Serid."
The nothlitized Andalite certainly appears as human as Zorish's host, although they look nothing alike in features. Serid's dark skin is complimented by even darker curly hair and brown eyes. His morph's descent appears to be Middle Eastern.
Elayne smirks at the young man's sleepy response and she leans against the table. "You've been sleeping a while, Trey," she says. "Granted, I have too..." She watches him a moment and raises her eyebrows in concern. "Are you feeling any better?"
-
"Hello, Serid." After quaffing another sip of the drink, Bivsitz sets it down very gently. "For an edge of the galaxy I'd never run across, you know how to make a Nagrin Blast. Guess we're not as isolationist as we thought if word of this beauty has gotten out--so much the better."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin groans groggily. He tries to look around but fails to make his head or stalk eyes move in the ways he intends. Something is very wrong...he can only hope...what was hope again? A sort of drink, yes. But why would he want a drink when he cannot think? But hope wasn't a drink was it? Or was it? Why had he thought of it? Had he really thought of it? Did he really think at all? Was any of this real? Real...
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________
~Rathien~
Rathien watches Salem's interchange and trails him as he leaves the bar demesnes. Even so he notices an odd alien he'd not seen before entering, and outside one that resembles a dragon...Draconian. ..perhaps not but perhaps so. He looks young to be away if he is. Rathien chuckles to himself as he keeps the same distance from Salem...the dragonoid is no less an oddity than he himself.
He keeps his active camo engaged as he continues to follow Salem.
-
"If your species values its isolation, why have you emerged from its insular culture?" Serid asks, sitting down on a nearby barstool, his feet helping him balance by hooking onto its bottom rung. "That is," he adds pleasantly, "if I may be so bold as to inquire."
-
"That," says Bivsitz, "is an excellent question. Mostly politics. Some of my co-workers have decided, in my opinion rather unwisely, that this isolationism is overrated. I disagreed, but money is tight and if I made too much of a fuss, it might be my job rather than their wasteful positions that got cut. Eventually our superiors sent me to do some of their work for them in the hopes that I come around to their point of view. Or, alternatively, that I'm at least on the other side of the galaxy for a sizable fraction of a year, and we don't have to deal with each other."
-
Zorish's lip curls instinctively as Serid approaches. He still hasn't received confirmation that the human is, in fact, an Andalite in disguise, but all evidence points in that direction. If nothing else, he is in league with Ossanlin - by far the most meddlesome Andalite on the planetoid.
Putting his glass to his lips and taking a long drink to hide his expression, Zorish waits for the strange creature's response, curious himself.
Trey sluggishly pulls himself into a sitting position, one hand going to his bandaged head. The edges of the bandage are singed from the ship fire he narrowly survived.
"Headache," he grunts, squinting blearily. "How long was I...?" He yawns hugely, covering his mouth with the crook of his elbow and peering around the room. Very few of the patrons look familiar.
-
Keshin smirks at Salem coming along with him and Simon. "Can't leave us alone, can you? I guess you're the closest thing we have to a friend at this rotten old place. Let's see what we can get out of this venture. Maybe you'll even form yet another agreement."
<Kess, I don' think...>
<Look, Joanne. I have to be sure. I have to at least try to save you.>
<I was ready ta die a long time ago, Kess.>
<Just because you're ready doesn't mean I am.>
Keshin then stands up, a slightly weary look in his eyes appearing as he follows Simon through the Bar. Why couldn't Joanne see that they needed to take any chance they could get? For her future, their future. They couldn't just give up hope because the circumstances were a little odd.
*****************************************************************************************
Mar frowns as he follows Claxter toward the Skimmer, an odd look in his bright eyes. "So Ossanlin suffered damage as a result of something he did for Terenia. Little idiot becomes more incompetent with each passing day. If she's damaged the War Prince, I will not take well to it."
More specifically, if Ossanlin was permanently damaged he'd be utterly useless to Mar. The Allstone had wiped most of his human self's silly ideas out of his mind for the time being. Granted the situation afforded him an opportunity: if he helped the War Prince, the War Prince would owe him yet another debt. If Mar asked a favor of the Andalite later, any favor, the creature could not afford culturally not to do it and still keep his honor. Mar had learned much of Andalite arrogance and ideals from his time at the Bar. The dimwit leading him was a perfect example.
-
<Me neither.> Claxter said darkly. <If you find enough cause, try not to make it too quick.> Even though it was for different reasons, Claxter felt better about there being someone on this rock that disliked terenia as much as he and Efaen did.
Once the made it onto the ship, Simon showed them the medbay. "Just make yourself comfortable on the table, there, and I'll get something to take a blood sample with." He got the tools he needed out, and took a handheld device to take it. "This will numb the area, take some blood that you won't feel, and patch you up all in one go. Then I'll have the computer do some scans while I get Jocun, and we'll see what it comes up with."
-
"It sounds as if an internal isolationist policy might also be falling into place," Serid remarks with as close to the semblance of a sense of humor as he can manage.
"In any case, welcome to the Space Bar; nowhere of which I know in the galaxy will you find a more assorted crowd," he adds, glancing around the room as if to make a point.
"Not exactly sure," Elayne confesses to Trey. "I've been sleeping, too. But I think it was a while. Not sure where Mar is... or really anyone else." She sighs and sits back down in her seat as she watches him. "I've probably got some Advil on my ship, if you want it for your head."
-
Salem whistled as he walked towards Jocun's ship. "Pretty impressive. I don't think I've ever heard of a Yeerk luxury vessel before. Came about after the war, I take it?"
He noted that the beeping in his head remained relatively steady. He frowned. Was there something wrong with his tracker already? He briefly closed his eyes, in an attempt to "feel" for Rathien, but managed to stumble on the uneven ground in that time. This would never do. He'd have to deal with the hunter... and the sooner the better.
He caught sight of a dragon-like alien- his communicator had trilled a moment before to signify the landing of another ship. It must have been that creature's. Salem studied it for only a moment. It didn't look like a species he recognized, but not too far off from a few he'd known, either. Probably worth checking out.
Salem smirked at Keshin, "Hey, I've gotten to taking every opportunity I can. Letting one slip away is rarely a good thing. Maybe this 'Jocun' has something for both of us."
Al stood up and stretched. "I didn't have anything specific in mind. Want to just step outside and check out the people around here? A lot of them are very much worth watching." He headed towards the door, nodding towards the new octopodal occupant of the bar and smirking at Ewa as if to say 'I told you so.'
-
"Yeah, this is fairly recent. From what I learned in the history books, this kind of craft wouldn't be war friendly enough to pass. Not that it doesn't have guns, but it's more for comfort than anything else.
-
Bivsitz takes advantage of Serid's glance to focus through its rear eyes, glancing around the room. Most of the inhabitants seem to be those bipeds, which suits Bivsitz fine. Perhaps the workers back home would want to know more about the new alien species...but that's certainly outside Bivsitz' job assignment.
-
Keshin glances around Simon's ship with interest. He recognizes the overall architecture as being Yeerkish, but it seems the Empire's priorities have changed in the last hundred years. The place looks far more hospitable than the cramped Bug fighters and military cruisers the Yeerks of his time have known.
<Nice place.>
<No kidding. Where can we get one of these?>
Keshin then sits awkwardly on the table, looking at Simon and Salem. "Joanne says this feels like the old vaccination days, back when everyone started having to get one. Does your Jocun have anything to trade with a guy as crazy as Salem?"
**********************************************************************
Mar's grin widens in an unsettling way. "Oh, trust me. If I am ever given the excuse, the little brat will beg for my mercy. And I'm not inclined to give it."
Mar notes the Mirage coming into view and says casually, "So that's Ossanlin's ship. All the other chances I had to see it were made in a bit of a rush. He's been here almost the entire time, but I also get the impression this vessel comes to the Bar often. How else did he and Precious meet?"
-
"And no shortage of meddling Andalites, that is certain," Zorish says, a little testily. He sips his water and gives Serid a flat glare.
<<Zorish, don't start a fight,>> Tamora pleads. <<Especially not if he really is an Andalite.>>
<<He has been in this establishment for longer than two hours. If he is an Andalite, he is limited by his current form.>>
<<I still don't want to fight him! He's bigger than me!>>
Zorish sighs and rubs his temples with his free hand. Tamora's complaints are not helping the throbbing that was brought on by the alcohol leaving his host's system. <<Calm yourself, child, I have no intentions of brawling with an Andalite today.>>
"Yeah...um...yeah," Trey rubs his eyes and lets out a deep exhale. One hand trails into his pocket, where the computer chip that could help him start his rebellion is still safely tucked away. "I need to go home," he admits. He had been sort of avoiding the notion, especially since he didn't have a ship. "I'm just...not sure what to do once I get there. Or how to get there."
-
"Andalites?" echoes Bivsitz, nervously rolling the tube from one foot to another. "Here?"
(OOC: Sorry, I still don't know who's all in the bar so reactions will be a little delayed for a while until I get it sorted out. :p)
-
"I don't know what he'd be willing to trade. Obviously we have to be careful with our technology." Simon said as he took the blood and had the machine work on it. "If you're a good patient, we'll give you a candy." He said with a slight smile at the talk of vaccinations. He went into another room to retrieve Jocun. When he came back, his disposition was noticably happier.
"Well well. Welcome to my humble ship. I am Jocun. After reviewing Simon's memories, I believe I'm up to date on everything. I'm not sure what kind of things Salem is usually most interested in for a sale."
The computer started showing some information as it went, doing its best to determine possible solutions to the problem.
-
Salem nodded and held out his hand, "Pleased to meet you, Jocun. I typically trade in... well, anything potentially valuable. Not currency. Currency is only useful within the society for which it was designed. Technologies, information, artifacts... anything you might think valuable, I'll at least look at, and offer something in kind." He bowed his head slightly and smiled, "And I do understand the importance of protecting one's technological advantages. I wouldn't be a very good trading partner if I were to just turn around and sell what I receive to your opposition. If we need to draw up contracts for you to feel comfortable trading with me, so be it, but there is no contract more binding than my word."
He cracked his knuckles and looked around, grinning, "So, is there anything you'd like from me? Or anything you'd be willing to offer me? I usually start with small trades- DNA for a trinket, for example- just to make my partners comfortable. If you're willing to consider a more substantial offer, we can just jump right in, as far as I'm concerned."
-
"There are at least two or three that I have seen," Serid answers Bivsitz noncommittally, watching him rather intently as he works to actively ignore Zorish. How does he know? Who told him? he asks himself, trying to think back to previous conversations or contact he has had with the Controller.
"Here, Andalites, humans and Yeerks seem to co-exist peacefully enough," he adds, only then giving Zorish a sharp glance.
Elayne nods slowly as she watches Trey. "Well," she murmurs thoughtfully, "I'm not opposed to helping you out, with my ship. It's not like I've got anything else to do, except try to repair my own rebellion at home, or stay here. But we're also not sure how it'll work out, considering we're from different times. As far as I understand it, there's no way to know if we'd end up in your time or mine."
-
Ewa briefly glanced over at the many-limbed newcomer Al had indicated as she followed him out the door. She didn't roll her eyes, nor did she quite smirk, but the sidelong look she sent his way spoke just as eloquently. "Is that what you're here for? People watching?" She paused for a beat. "Interesting venue, of course, but this really seems the kind of place where people might want to do something." Like try and escape. From what I've seen, it would make sense for a secret like that to be kept away from the main bar area. Assuming there is anything ongoing. Or concrete. And assuming he isn't just luring me away from more people so my disappearance is less conspicuous.
Her eyes roamed over the landing bay. She could also see what was probably a lake, but it was understandably less occupied.
When she turned back to Al her tone became more serious. "Something important," she stared at him intensely. "Possibly dangerous, outrageous, and absolutely vital for our continued well being." She paused for a long moment to let the gravitas sink in. A hint of something sparked in the back of her eyes.
Deliberately, she raised her chin, then her eyebrows. "Do you know how to cartwheel?"
-
~Rathien~
Rathien follows the trio to a ship of...interesting... design. The sights of the Galaxy never ceased to surprise. He watches Salem, hand straying to his Entroper. Maybe...possibly... just maybe he could kill this once without the celestial "go-ahead". His desire to kill wars with his desire to abide his unseen employer, and Salem wastes no time in boarding the vessel.
Fate or no, messy kills were just that, messy. And trying to kill Salem with others around would still leave a mess. He does take pride in his work after all...eliminate the target with no collateral damage. Salem's set-up made that nearly impossible if anyone was within speaking range of him. He waits at the bottom of the ramp, attempting to listen. If the ramp closes...well he'll deal with that when the time comes.
-
"Yes, yes," ZOrish scowls, "it's a completely neutral ground. Absolutely no disagreements here whatsoever, especially not between warring species."
<<Are you being sarcastic?>> Tamora sound surprised. <<You're never sarcastic.>>
<<My nerves are fraying,>> Zorish says, smiling thinly at the octoped whose name he has already forgotten.
"Are you familiar with Andalites?" he asks, judging the creature's reaction to his earlier statement.
Trey shrugs a little, then winces as his head throbs unjustly. "Well my ship isn't taking me anywhere, not after that fire," he says. "And I haven't heard of anyone else from my time coming around. I think I might have to risk it with someone else's ship. Maybe someone around here knows how to figure out which timeline we go back to?"
He glances around the bar hopefully, but doesn't see anyone that looks particularly eager to dispense advice.
-
Jocun shook Salem's hand, and watched his eyes when he talked. He came off as the honest type, at the very least, though having a Leeran controller nearby would have been the surest thing. Not that any was around. "I do have interest in old history, though since you're probably from the past it might not interest you quite as much. I suppose I could show you some medicine. Surely sharing cures for treatable diseases that ran rampant a hundred years ago would help more than hinder. I suppose could part with Simon's DNA, though I don't want to see any clones or morphs of him."
The computer picked up an anomoly outside the ramp, and monitored it. It wouldn't act unless the thing was perceived as a threat.
-
"Oh," says Bivsitz. "That's...uh...reassuring ."
Bivsitz glances at the bartender, trying to see if there's anyone else behind the bar. There doesn't appear to be, and it doesn't look like either of the bipeds have anything personal to gain from Sheyran clientele. Strange.
"I have heard of them," Bivsitz admits. "I have never met one." And definitely wasn't planning on doing so here.
-
"That's probably for the best," Zorish says, setting his half-empty tumbler back on the bar counter. "They really don't make for the best company. Awful conversationalists, and they pretty much have a tail blade permanently stuck up their butt." Zorish eyes Serid to see if he is goading a reaction out of him.
"Anyways," Zorish goes on, waving one of Tamora's hands blandly. He peers at the octoped, "Any purpose behind your visit, or are you just shipwrecked? It seems like half the people here are."
-
"Good to know," says Bivsitz, setting the cup on the floor and prodding it gently to swirl the remaining liquid inside. "Thank you."
"I wanted to put off the rest of my trip, mostly. Galactic positioning system recommended this place. I'm pleasantly surprised. Last I checked my ship worked well..." Bivsitz had ridden in on a transport craft which was rather small, although it had room for two and was rather overly weaponized considering its banal purpose. Paranoia ran wild in the Sheyran home system.
-
Al laughed, "I guess people watching is as much what I'm here for as anything these days. Besides, somebody's got to keep Salem out of trouble."
He listened as Ewa went on about doing something... dangerous... critical. Was she in some kind of trouble? Were they all? Did she know something he didn't? This place did seem to be a breeding ground for trouble.
He was so caught up in thought that he nearly missed the way she finished. He laughed. This Ewa... he was starting to like her.
"I'll have you know that you're looking at a six time Capina cartwheel contest master." He immediately put out his hands and went to perform a cartwheel. He got just about to the point of being upside-down before falling backwards and collapsing onto his back. "Of course, I had a different body then," he said sheepishly from the ground, half laughing. "Don't suppose you could do any better."
Salem nodded, "Medicines tend to be fairly limited in scope. Typically only good for one or two species. Doesn't mean I won't at least take a look at them. They might still provide insights. Your history of how the war went after my time is probably also worth looking at. Oh," he said, "Jocun, I am looking to get a number of physiological scans of Yeerks. Or better yet, medical records of Yeerks. Something to get a respectable idea of Yeerks physically. If you'd be willing to let me scan you, outside of your host, that'd be worth something. Any medical records would almost definitely be worth more." He grinned, "And both your DNA and your host's can get you something fun, at least. No clones, no morphs. Not within your universe or this one, at least."
-
"Alright. I can do that." He said. He went to the computer, and had it start loading some information onto a disk. He also went to a sink and wet a rag so when he got out he'd be resting on something moist instead of a dry hand. He exited Simon, and Simon held out his hand so Salem could get a good look at him. Not that there was much to look at. "Sometimes I find it funny that the rulers of our galaxy are so small and helpless without us."
-
(Sorry about the length, but I need to write up a send-off for Gaz and Morgan. Julian is staying. He's six and a half feet tall and half horse. Like a minotaur but horse instead of bull.)
While sitting at the bar, Morgan and Gaz received a startling message from their 'verse. The anti-Myth group who had been capturing and tormenting Myths under the guise of a CG lab had been rounded up and arrested for their activities. An offer of amnesty was being offered to all of those Myths who had been victims and had since gone rogue. That would include Morgan. Morgan wanted to check it out, but Gaz wasn't sure it was legit so she insisted on coming with.
"It's high time I visited home anyhow," Gaz said as they said their farewells to Julian, who was opting to stay behind.
"Just got here after all," he had said. "I want to check this place out."
Morgan made sure to say a proper farewell to Silver this time, instead of just vanshing and promised that he and Gaz would return once they knew for certain how this would play out.
"Take care of her Julian," Morgan said. And that was it, they were gone. Hopefully things worked out.
Julian walked back inside the bar and glanced around, he walked up to the bar and sat near Bivsitz, who looked like another newcomer to the bar.
"So, you new around here as well?" Julian asked as he got a drink.
-
"Yes, I am," said Bivsitz curtly, eyeing the range of stools available. Nothing looked particularly comfortable for Sheyran anatomy, but that didn't present too much of a problem; with eight legs to choose from, you could take the weight off a few of them from time to time and still be fine. No harm in staying a while longer, perhaps even another drink...?
-
"Certainly is an interesting place," Julian commented. "Can't say I've seen such a range of people before, and I've traveled a lot in my time."
After taking a sip of his drink, Julian said, "So, can I ask where you're from? Here, let me get your next drink, what'll it be?"
-
"Me neither. Although I...haven't," Bivsitz grumbled.
"I am from..." Would they even recognize the name of his system? "I was most recently based on the planet Taffes. And thank you, my next drink will be a...I'll push my luck. Do they have a Jibz? And in a cup or a bowl with a wide rim, if you can."
-
Salem.... that ridiculous cowboy person? Ewa wondered. Why would Al look after him? Although she kept the thoughts to herself, she did look at him in askance.
She wasn't quite sure what to make of his expressions while she spoke seriously. He looked thoughtful and concerned, maybe even a little confused. It didn't fit in with his character deciding she was paranoid--no wariness or sudden reevaluation--but neither did it really make sense for someone who understood what she was getting at to react that way. Surely, if he's been here long enough, he'd know about it? If he was some kind of spy though, he should be more interested in possible escape plans.
Ewa laughed as Al fell over partway through his cartwheel. "I certainly hope they wouldn't consider you a champion now," she teased. "Let's see about this..." She shifted her stance sideways, feet firmly planted more than shoulder-width apart, arms lifted out on either side as she rocked back and forth. Exactly like a child, she thought with an inward smirk. A moment later she launched herself into a sloppy cartwheel, her following leg dragging a bit and throwing her off. Still, she managed not to fall over.
She lifted her head and arms as though proudly accepting a roar of accolades, then she smirked a bit and turned two smooth cartwheels over to Al, where she promptly folded into a seated position on the ground. "You sure it's the body and not the tux? I know there are people who will tell you that coordination has nothing to do with your clothing, but have you ever seen a man in a tux cartwheel? I bet it's the paradox holding you back."
Mostly, Ewa was just teasing him, but she was also curious if he'd expend the energy to change his whole outfit, just for show, similar to what he had done earlier.
-
Julian shook his head. "Sorry. Can't say I've heard of where you're from. Then again, I probably haven't heard of the places at least half of these people are from."
After taking a sip of his drink, Julian made a motion at the bartender. "I imagine that they just might have what you want. This place seems to have almost anything you can think of."
-
"Think nothing of it," said Bivsitz sincerely. "I suppose not. I don't think even my craziest co-workers would recognize all these species."
What passed for Bivsitz' fingers clapped together, limb by limb. "I was pleasantly...they? Do you not work here?"
-
Julian shook his head. "Not me. I'm just passing through. Where I come from I'm the reigning champion sword master. I travel around for competitions."
After taking another sip, Julian said, "Where are my manners? Name's Julian; by the way. Not sure if I introduced myself. I hail from a planet called Eurydice."
-
"You...don't? How were you planning on getting me a drink, then?" Bivsitz said, not grasping enough Galard to have picked up that particular nuance.
"May I ask what a sword is? I am Fybmufe-Pof Bivsitz. I was born on the planet Runtil, but have lived on Taffes for the last few Runtil-years."
-
"I'll buy the drink for you," replied Julian. He grabbed the sword he carried strapped to his back, it wasn't a fencing sword. More along the lines of something a knight in the old days might have carried.
"This is the sword I use for competition, helped me win quite a few," Julian said. "Not many people make these, I learned how from my father who brought the sport back into style, you could say. Now it's pretty popular where I'm from."
-
((could you guys correct me if i did anything wrong?))
Citrus walked in the bar, and looked around. There were lots of people drinking and having a good time. She went to the counter to order something.
-
Zorish watches curiously as Bivsitz shifts his conversation to yet another unusual creature - one that bears a striking resemblance to an anthropomorphic version of an Earth horse.
<<I think perhaps observing is our best option right now,>> Zorish says, hoisting himself up onto the stool and sipping his drink. He keeps a cautious eye on Serid.
<<You sure we can't go back to the ship?>> Tamora complains. <<I'm sleepy. You made me drink too much.>>
<<In a minute,>> Zorish mutters, trying to remain inconspicuous as he eavesdrops.
-
The crimson glow of the ship's bug-eye plexi viewscreens briefly illuminates the bar windows, even from across the gravel shipyard.
With a clunky mechanical whir the Bug fighter's spindly landing gears touch down on the soft earth, pressing into the gravel with talon balancing supports. Individual hydraulic pumps adjust for the topography and the weight of the ship, sending out hisses of blue steam.
Crouching there like an armless insect, the Bug broods, engine idling.
When the hatch opens and the ramp extends, crunching into the gravel, its pilot tromps down to ground level on heavy black combat boots.
"Computer, seal exterior hatch, maximum security," the human woman murmurs, and with an electronic bleep the ramp slides back into the threshold. The black hull of living metal reseals itself like a closing wound. Then the ship flickers and vanishes.
Myitt One-Nine-Five stuffs her hands into the pockets of her heavy black trenchcoat, heaving a sigh. Her eyes track emptily down at the gravel, frizz brown hair cascading over her pale, tired white face.
"Let's go get a drink, kid," she says with a bland twist of her mouth, leaving the invisible ship behind and marching off towards the bar.
She pushes open the familiar, splintery wooden door and is hit by warmth and stale beer and alien chatter.
Yes, it was good to be back.
Myitt glances from side to side as she approaches the bar, her ratty blue jeans swishing as she makes haste.
Pressing her hands against the scratched applique of the bar counter, she murmurs softly to the bartender and slides onto a seat.
Always her eyes return briefly to the room at large, although she keeps her attention downcast, until the bartender sets a dusty green bottle and a glass in front of her.
Then she grins.
-
Growing disinterested with all the newcomers, Zorish is beginning to think that it might be a good idea to take Tamora up on her request. His host is tired, and a tired host body is an unresponsive host body. Half-heartedly he glances up when he hears the door swing open yet again, then back down at his suspiciously brown glass of water.
He freezes.
<<Was that-?>> Tamora asks, her memories flickering back to the comm link conversation from a few hours previous. Zorish had only spoken with the Yeerk named Myitt One-Nine-Five for a few minutes, but he had committed Myitt's current visage to memory. It wasn't easy to forget the face of your supposed murderer.
All exhaustion forgotten, Zorish finishes off his grimy water and pushes the tumbler away, leaving it for the bartender to deal with. Patting his holster, he checks the dial of his Dracon to ensure that it is safely set to stun.
<<Sorry, Tamora,>> he says dryly. <<It looks like that nap might have to wait.>>
Zorish slips off of the barstool and makes his way past Serid, past the octoped, past the strange horse-man, paying each of them no mind. When he reaches the stool where Myitt is sitting he slides into an empty one next to him.
"Bartender, I'll have another glass of water," Zorish says. He glances over at Myitt, pushing a strand of long, blonde hair behind Tamora's ear.
"I've been waiting for you." His voice is flat.
-
"I can pay my own way," Bivsitz says skeptically, and then stares at the sword. "Hmm. Well, congratulations. I'm not an athlete myself but I don't mind watching games from time to time."
-
Myitt looks up from her glass of red liquor.
"Hm?" She peers at Zorish. "I didn't think you were off duty."
Idly she sips her drink.
"What's with the getup? Tired of spandex?" she continues, grinning into the glass.
-
Zorish's eyes narrow ever so slightly. That was far from the response he had imagined. He glances down at his own Imperial uniform, wondering what spandex had to do with anything.
"I was promised that you would turn up eventually," he continues, trying not to allow his confusion to show in his voice. The bartender returns and places another cup of water in front of him. It seems no cleaner than his last glass, but he grabs it anyways. "From what I understand you are quite the regular here."
He takes a sip of water.
"Although, I must say, I expected a longer wait than two or three hours. I imagine this hole in the wall is a ways away from your base of operations."
-
Myitt sighs, closing her eyes tightly.
"Please don't tell me you're some version of Terenia who hates me even worse than the real one," she begs, clinging to the glass of liquor.
<<Myitt,>> Tara whispers. <<You don't think...remember that weird ass phone call a year ago?>>
Myitt squints at the woman in the Imperial uniform. "Or even better," she adds, setting her drink down, "Zorish and Tamora back from the dead?" She laughs nervously. "I last spoke with you eleven months ago, if it really is you. Which...in my opinion is impossible, because you're dead."
<<And the bar never resurrects the dead,>> Tara says dully. Myitt blinks, a cold chill coming over her.
-
"Last I checked," Zorish says tersely, "I am very much alive, as is the body I inhabit. Contrary to what I understand to be your best attempts to ensure otherwise."
He makes a face at the gritty texture of the water and places it back on the bar, abandoning it to turn and face Myitt fully.
"Eleven months, hm?" he asks, thoughtfully. "Time truly does pass strangely here. Your brother placed that call for me mere hours ago, after he finished bleating about that pitiful sister of my host's."
-
"I didn't have a choice, Zorish," Myitt snaps suddenly. "You were a Sub-Visser of the Yeerk Empire, and you had the knowledge of the whereabouts of the rebellion. Do me a favor and ask yourself what you would have done, if you were me."
She turns back to her drink, seething, and downs the last of it.
-
"I don't know the details of the situation," Zorish admits. "The message I intercepted did not specify anything beyond the fact that you successfully destroyed me, and that Terenia had done the same to my host body. Both of which are unacceptable."
He watches her swallow down the red liquor, his nose wrinkling in revulsion. "Your rebellion surely isn't pitiful enough that you do not even have the technology for a proper memory wipe. You presume that my murder was the only option?" He raises his eyebrows. "Or just the easiest?"
-
"It was the safest option," Myitt retorts, quickly pouring another glass. "You know as well as I do that memory dumps aren't always failsafe."
She swallows a big gulp, grimacing. "How am I to know you're the same Zorish, anyway? This place is strange. You've seen that time is strange here. You might be harassing me for killing you, and rightfully so, but you and the girl could very well survive in your timeline." The words sound hollow even to Myitt, and she punctuates the statement with another shot of the antiseptic, mulch-scented booze.
-
"A risk I am not willing to take," Zorish says flatly. "It is more than my own death that concerns me. From what I understand, Tamora was destroyed after I was. What purpose does that serve, I wonder? How does the death of an innocent host body fit into your little rebellion?"
"Besides," Zorish waves his hand dismissively, "whether or not it is me that you killed is inconsequential. You murdered a version of me. Whether it is something that still lies in my future or whether the death belongs to an entirely different incarnation of myself does not matter. I have been afforded the rare opportunity for vengeance; something not many dead people are allowed."
-
Myitt gives Zorish a cold look, and sets down her drink.
"And I assume you intend to enact this vengeance?" She leans against the bar counter, playing off the image of nonchalance, although her gun fingers flex and unflex as they hang off the edge.
-
Zorish returns Myitt's gaze levelly. "It has crossed my mind, yes," he says.
<<Zorish...>> Tamora says quietly, her anxiety bubbling up in their shared mind. Zorish ignores her. Instead, he reaches down and grabs his own Dracon beam, sliding it easily from the holster. Instead of raising it at this close range, though, he places the weapon on the sticky, grimy countertop. He spins the Dracon so that the butt is facing Myitt.
"I'm sure you have your own," he says, glancing at her jacket, "but I want you to know that I will not retaliate."
<<What are you doing!?>> Tamora squeaks, terrified.
<<Gambling.>> Zorish's reply is calm; he is careful not to reveal his own nervousness to his host.
-
Myitt is frozen for a moment, eyes narrowing briefly.
<<What game is this ghost of a creature playing?>> she asks herself.
Slowly, carefully, she opens her jacket, pointing to the butt of the concealed Dracon. Then she delicately picks the weapon out of its shoulder holster, places it on the counter, and mirrors Zorish's cautious and deliberate spin. She keeps her index finger lightly on the black metal.
With extreme reluctance she lifts her finger from the weapon, watching the Sub-Visser.
"Now what?" she replies with a smirk. "Shall we draw at high noon? Ten paces, all that rubbish?"
-
"If you wish," Zorish says, rolling his eyes. "Although this place is not quite a saloon."
<<Zorish, pick the Dracon back up,>> Tamora hisses. Instead, Zorish regards Myitt cautiously, leans back and folds his arms across his chest, leaving the weapon on the counter.
"Let me ask you this, rebel," he spits the word 'rebel' like a curse. "You ask me to see things from your position, but why don't you do the same? What would you do if you knew that in your future I would destroy you? If you knew that following your death a colleague of mine would brutally destroy that body that you loved enough to become a traitor for? Hm?"
He watches Myitt with narrowed gray eyes.
-
Citrus walked over to the line, and lined up, waiting to order something.
-
"Oh, I have no doubt that I would be tempted to destroy you, and your colleague," Myitt sniffs, nonchalant. She, too, folds her arms in a hesitant gesture of mutual disarmament. "But killing me now won't necessarily save you or your host, and it would probably kill my host, who is of course just as innocent as yours."
She adjusts her legs on the rungs of the bar stool. "I don't blame you for wanting revenge, whether it saves you or not. After all, killing me in your future won't prevent my past self from killing you in your own. But all this talk is wearying, to be honest, and I'd rather know whether I can enjoy my drink with relative peace of mind. Are you going to kill me or not?"
-
Zorish gives Myitt a hard look, considering the Yeerk closely.
<<Zorish, please...>> Tamora pleads, pushing for control.
"No," he says, unfolding his arms with a sigh. "I am not going to kill you. Not at the moment, at least. Unfortunately, you are far too valuable to the Empire for me to simply incinerate you here and now. It would not bode well among my superiors if they discovered that I destroyed you when I could have easily captured you instead."
Zorish hesitates. "Besides...there are other matters of import that I wish to discuss with you before I turn you into a handful of floating molecules."
-
"Oh, good, please pick my brain before you destroy me," Myitt grates. "I'm sure you'll want to make sure that gold platter is stuffed with as many ass kissing treats as possible before you turn me in." She snorts laughter. "If you turn me in."
Curiosity gets the better of her, and she sighs, gesturing idly. "What else do you want to know?" she says wearily.
-
"Well," Zorish says hesitantly, peering at the bottle in front of Myitt. "First, I'd like to know if that is actually redin that you're drinking. I don't think I've seen an honest-to-god bottle of redin in seven generations."
-
In spite of the tension Myitt smiles, weaving a little. It was, after all, quite strong.
"Yep," she says, gesturing to the bartender. "Another glass, my good man." She eyes Zorish. "Don't think I intend to get my vengeful executioner drunk, but every Yeerk who comes across this place deserves a bit of the old lagoons."
Myitt nods at the bartender and takes the tumbler, pouring a big helping of the pungent red liquor and sliding it towards the Sub-Visser.
She raises her own glass. "Cheers, for what it's worth." Then she drinks.
-
Zorish raises his own glass about half an inch before pressing it to Tamora's lips. He takes a hesitant sip, letting the red liquor slide down his host's throat. His eyes widen slightly at the unfamiliar burning sensation; it is much stronger than the scotch that he had earlier. He takes a larger gulp and replaces the glass to the counter.
"That is quite potent," he gasps. "I don't think I have ever had it while in a human host."
<<That was disgusting!>> Tamora complains. <<Why are you drinking again? Zorish, I need rest, not booze.>>
<<Hush, Tamora,>> Zorish murmurs. <<This Yeerk is so guarded she may as well be Alcatraz. If she's going to give me an opening, it will only be if she is good and intoxicated.>>
<<That doesn't mean you need to get drunk. How do you plan on shooting anything if you can't see straight?>> Tamora asks, flinching mentally at the idea of shooting anyone at all. <<Besides, that Yeerk said it herself, her host is an innocent. You shouldn't kill her. We need to go home.>>
<<Soon enough,>> Zorish promises absentmindedly, taking another gulp of redin. He eyes Myitt curiously. "Who did you think I was, when you first arrived?" he asks.
-
"Yeah, it's good ****, isn't it?" Myitt says with a wide grin.
She takes another sip, looking up at Zorish again after the long pause. "Isn't it obvious?" she replies. "You look almost exactly like Terenia. Surely you know about your host's twin sister?"
-
"I know my host had a twin," Zorish says. "I know that she, despite all evidence to the contrary, is apparently alive, and being protected by one of your brothers - the surly one with the British accent. But I was under the impression that she was, somehow, trapped in Yeerk form, and had been for some time. When I last saw her she was a temporary resident in your brother's host."
He hesitates before taking another sip of his drink, but eventually the glass is at his lips again. Despite the almost intolerable burning sensation he has to agree with Myitt; it is good.
-
"Ah, yes," Myitt says, nodding. "A lot has changed since we last spoke. Terenia's human now, I suppose there's no harm in telling you that. It's a long story, one involving Andalites and powers beyond my understanding."
-
Zorish's eyebrows raise. "That human seems to have an inexhaustable amount of luck," he comments dryly, giving voice to Tamora's thoughts. "It is too bad that she never used it to fulfill any of the promises she made my host."
He places the tumbler on the counter, considering Myitt and resolving not to drink further until she does. As strong as the redin is, and as tired as Tamora is, he would do well to pace himself.
"So you assumed that I was Terenia. You said that you did not think I was off-duty. She lives among you, then? Despite the fact that she murdered an innocent human?"
-
Myitt's mouth draws into a hard, thin line.
"There are plenty of murderers in this war," she says tersely, setting down her own drink. "Not all of them live without regret."
-
Zorish nods. "Of course," he says silkily. "Regret justifies death. As long as she was apologetic about destroying this body, then it is worth pardoning her. I suppose so long as you regret my death I should pardon you as well?"
He smirks. "You do regret murdering me, don't you? After all, if I weren't dead, I wouldn't be here interrupting your drink."
-
"I never said regret is adequate justification, Sub-Visser," Myitt says coolly, pushing her glass away more fully. It clinks into the metal surface of her Dracon. "Let's not forget that your little plan to rope me in to your superiors may not even work. If I leave this place with you, our timelines will force one to reconcile with the other. I may end up in my own past, or you...well, you could simply vanish."
She grins toothily. "Space-time's a ****, ain't it?"
-
Someone tapped Citrus on the shoulder. He had a notepad and pen in his hand. Citrus decided that he was asking for orders and ordered a drink. She then sat down at a table.
-
<<She has a point,>> Tamora says nervously. <<Zorish, I don't want to disappear. Maybe we should just leave her alone.>>
Zorish's lips curl down into a frustrated frown. "Then I don't have any choice beyond killing you," he says flatly. "I wouldn't want to risk my own existence,after all."
He sighs a little, wrapping one hand around the glass of redin, but not drinking. "I do wonder, though," he says slowly, "if your timeline has not already changed. The very nature of me knowing about my own future death may allow me to prevent it from occurring. What then? Perhaps when I leave the bar it is your own present that will be altered. You may very well have been living on borrowed time these past eleven months."
-
Julian noticed Citrus, a new arrival to the bar, sitting down. He looked back to Bivtris as he put the sword on his back and said, "Excuse me. I take it on myself to greet new faces. Particularly ladies. I'll be right back."
Julian strolled over to the table and leaned against it casually. He wore what he hoped was a friendly expression.
"Hi there," he said, "name's Julian. You just arrived, right?"
(keep in mind: Julian is like a minotaur but horse features instead.)
-
Citrus nodded. "Yeah, I just came. And hi, I'm Citrus" She took another sip of her drink, then nervously asked,"Uh...no offence, but what exactly are you?"
-
"One of a kind," Julian replied. "I'm like a minotaur except better looking. Actually I come from a place where people like myself are referred to as 'myths'. It's a nickname of sorts. No one knows exactly where we came from."
Julian gestured to the chair across from Citrus. "May I?"
-
Myitt tilts her head, conceding. "Perhaps I have been," she says thoughtfully. "Although you could simply be from another timeline in which you know about the nature of your death, which you may or may not prevent by destroying me now. I assume the message you received warning you of the circumstances was sent from this place, and as I've said, time is funny here, and dimensions crisscross back and forth. A message sent from the shipyard could very well end up in another universe."
She leans back, splaying her hands in front of her to grip the lip of the bar counter. "Or, your current knowledge of your death could be its cause. The humans have quite a few stories, albeit fictitious, on that terrible turn of events. The only way to find out is for you to wait, really. Killing me would just be the, uh, icing on the cake." With a shrug she decides that finishing her drink might not be such a bad idea after all.
-
"You're creating a fabulous argument in favor of my destroying you," Zorish says dryly. "And here I thought that you rebels were big on self preservation."
<<If leaving will make her disappear then why don't we just leave?>> Tamora asks, grasping for straws.
<<Because I want the pleasure of watching her die,>> Zorish responds calmly, ignoring the slightly fuzzy feeling that is settling over his host. Even just half a glass of redin seems to be working marvels on Tamora's tenuous sobriety, considering her exhaustion and the fact that Zorish's previous drinks are still in her system.
<<Killing her won't change anything, though,>> Tamora argues. Zorish shrugs outwardly, eyes losing focus and brows drawing together as he argues with his host.
<<So?>> he counters. <<It is vindication.>>
-
She barks a laugh. "You aren't mistaken," she says in a surly tone. "I did give you the option of leaving me alone."
As the conversation lapses back into silence Myitt watches Zorish, pouring another glass of hard red liquor.
-
<<What if we just get killed all over again?>> Tamora protests, her fear easy enough for the Yeerk to read.
<<You are overreacting,>> Zorish says, giving himself a mental shake. He blinks a few times before refocusing on Myitt, blank expression immediately settling into a scowl. Angrily, he picks up his half-finished tumbler and downs the rest of the drink before shoving the glass away from himself and his host. A few poorly concealed coughs bubble up in response to the powerful drink.
"And you --," he coughs again, "--honestly think that I will? Leave you alone? I did not come all this way to sit at an impasse forever." His right hand, still lying on the top of the bar, curls into a fist. "That is unacceptable. I have two deaths to account for, and trust me they will be accounted for. I promise you that, rebel filth."
-
"Can I finish my drink, first?" Myitt drawls, feeling pleasantly unperturbed about the conversation's dip back towards the subject of her death.
<<I'm not going to let you subject yourself to this, Myitt,>> Tara says flatly. <<I don't care how drunk you make me, I don't wanna die, and I don't want you to die.>>
-
Zorish snorts, uncurling his fist and lying his hand palm down on the countertop. "Of course," he says snidely. "Drink up. Far be it from me to deny you such pleasures."
He watches Myitt for a long minute, then leans back in the stool. "Tell me the details," he says in a quieter, slightly less derisive voice. "I want to know how you were able to not only kill me, but to separate me from my host prior to my death."
-
Myitt shrugs, sipping the drink lightly.
"I seem to recall capturing you, quite by mistake, with a little help from my friends," she says slowly, recalling the distant--and none too pleasant--events. "You had infested a friend of ours and attempted to attack us. You went crawling back to Tamora and were given the choice of a memory wipe and a ticket back to the Empire, or starvation. Of course you took the ticket, but you didn't want Tamora to get hurt back at the home base, see. You wanted to return alone. So you left her, and we tried to decide whether to kill you or send you back."
Again she sips the drink.
"My host, Tara," she says, gesturing at her own chest, "wanted you to have a proper choice in your sentence, after you were helpless. You were allowed to infest her, unbeknownst to me--I was in the pool at the time. Then upon returning to my host, I believe I considered you too great a risk with the knowledge you had obtained." She sips. "I did what I had to do. I took the safest route for my people. Memory wipes are fickle at best."
-
Zorish listens, his expression darkening as Myitt relays the story.
"I see," he says when she finishes, suddenly wishing that he had more alcohol. Tamora's head is buzzing in an irritating way that is difficult to ignore. "So you killed me, for the benefit of your fellow traitors, despite the fact that I had been told otherwise." He nods. "Not that I would expect honesty from you. After all," he grins nastily, "I am a Sub-Visser of the Yeerk Empire. Which means that I must be evil, does it not?"
He hugs his arms briefly, keeping his eyes locked on Myitt. He finds it is easier to concentrate that way. "Alright. Fine. So you killed me. What next? What of this body? Was she too great a risk as well?"
-
"Your host body had no knowledge of our base's secrets, as far as I'm aware, and her destruction was entirely out of my hands," Myitt says coldly, taking a deep swig of liquor.
-
Zorish peers at Myitt, perturbed.
"So, in summary," he says, sounding disgusted, "your host," he reaches out and presses two fingers to her shoulder, pushing ever so slightly, as though to confirm that Tara is real, "this human woman, was willing to give me my life whereas you, my own kind, snuffed it out without a second thought. And then, after that, you could not even manage to keep Tamora from harm, despite the fact that I desired her safety."
Zorish drops his gaze to the bar counter, fuming. "I have been a careful Yeerk," he says in a quiet, cold voice. "I have avoided battle and maintained an abhorently menial position within the Empire, rising to Sub-Visser only by happy accident. I have worked for years to ensure not only my safety, but the safety of this body during these tumultuous times. I protected her and you just-" his voice catches in his throat, startling him. When he raises his glare back to Myitt's face Tamora's eyes are shining. "-you destroyed it all, didn't you? Everything I've worked for, everything I have labored so meticulously to achieve, gone in an instant because of your precious, traitorous rebellion."
<<Are you -- are you crying?>> Tamora asks, stunned.
<<No,>> Zorish hisses. <<The redin must be reacting strangely with your body.>>
He swallows hard, trying to fight back the tears that are utterly alien to him.
-
Citrus nodded. "Go ahead, no one else is with me. So which planet do you live on?" She asked, trying to start some sorta of conversation.
-
Julian sat down with his drink in hand.
"I come from a planet called Eurydice. Though it's been a while since I was there last due to traveling around for competitions. Back at home I'm champion sword master."
-
Myitt flinches when Zorish pokes at Tara's body, but as he keeps talking she watches with a strange sense of...what? Guilt? Empathy?
Pity?
Finally she says, quietly, "If I could have saved your host, I would have." She snorts derisively, but her tone is still subdued. "And no, I didn't kill you without a second thought. I'm not some kind of monster."
-
"Does it matter?" Zorish asks gruffly. "You killed me. Whether you were torn up about it or not is irrelevant." He inhales - a deep, shuddering sound.
"More importantly," he continues, his voice gaining strength, "you let my host die, and now harbor her murderer amongst your ranks. If you could not save my host you at the very least could have seen justice delivered to her murderer."
Almost casually, he reaches over, resting his hand gently on the butt of his Dracon, which is still lying on the bar counter. He does not lift the weapon, though. Not yet.
"Tell me why I should let you live," he says in almost a whisper.
-
Myitt's eyes track to Zorish's Dracon and back to the Sub-Visser's familiar face.
She sighs heavily. "Terenia killed her sister. It nearly cost her the last of her sanity, and she wouldn't have joined us if I'd had my way."
The rebel looks down at the sawdust on the wooden floor, leaning a bit closer to her own weapon.
"I won't let you kill me, or my host, without a fight." She looks back up at Zorish, questioning. Daring him to make the first move.
<<Myitt,>> Tara whispers, fear clutching her heart. <<Jesus, I don't...>> She hesitates. <<Draw quickly, alright?>>
-
"That doesn't answer my question," Zorish hisses, squeezing his eyes shut for a long moment to clear away the tears. "Tell me why you deserve to live, you dapsen murdering traitor."
-
"Doesn't everyone deserve to live?" she says with a shrug.
The Dracon is in her hand, the dial clicked to stun, and she fires point blank at Tamora's chest.
-
At such a close range there is no room for error, and no time for Zorish to respond.
The blast knocks Zorish and Tamora backwards, off of the barstool, and they land in an unceremonious heap on the sticky floor. Tamora's eyes are still open, but unfocused.
<<No! Dammit, Tamora, wake up!>> Zorish cries, his fury and despair replaced by sudden biting fear as he tries to force her body to respond. Their own Dracon lays forgotten on the counter, and Tamora's mind is silent.
-
The hot backwash from the red laser's close range kicks Myitt back into the bar counter.
She grunts and finds her right arm and half of her right leg unresponsive, but manages to cling to the scratched shellac with a wild grope of her left arm. The Dracon slips from her limp shooting hand and clatters to the sawdust floor.
A stab of pain shoots through her spine as she braces herself against the wood, and she sucks in a sharp breath.
<<Are we alive?>> Tara wonders dimly.
Myitt swallows and watches Zorish's prostrate form, her chest heaving.
-
<<Tamora,>> Zorish says urgently. <<Tamora, you need to wake up now. Damn it, child, get up!>>
His struggling is useless, though; Tamora is completely absent, with no sign of regaining consciousness anytime soon. No matter how hard he tries, her body refuses to respond to his commands. After a few moments of struggling in vain he finally gives up and tries to assess how badly she might be injured. There is a dull throb at the back of Tamora's head where her head struck the floor, and her back is aching as well. Beyond that the damage does not seem to be too severe.
There is nothing else he can do but wait. Wait for Tamora to regain consciousness, or wait for Myitt to finish them off. Whichever comes first.
<<Tamora...>>
-
With a rasping cough Myitt slides off of the bar stool, still clinging to the edge of the bar counter with her trembling left hand.
Her right leg nearly buckles beneath her, and she scowls, wincing.
<<Now what?>> Tara demands angrily. <<Am I supposed to just will the Dracon up from the floor?>>
"I'll think of something," Myitt mutters, glancing around the bar. A firefight in this place didn't always draw much attention, which could be a benefit or a hindrance, depending on the circumstances.
Slowly, shakily, she limps towards Zorish, using the bar counter as a crutch and nearly tripping over her own bar stool.
She hisses a curse and regains her balance long enough to glare down at the Dracon, now beneath her feet.
<<If you make me face-plant-->> Tara warns.
<<I'm trying to concentrate!>> Myitt snaps, cutting her off.
-
Serid, who had been silently glowering throughout Zorish's conversation with the strange octopod, has decided it best to not reveal his true species to Bivsitz. Andalites, it seems, are unpopular throughout the galaxy--even its farthest, most quiet reaches.
Instead, he turns his attention on the growing tension between Zorish and the rebel who had been with Ertoran--Myitt, he thought he remembered her name being. When a shot is fired, he takes a step backwards, watching the scene unfold with what at least appears to be cold indifference, not offering to help Myitt.
Elayne shrugs. "Yeah, maybe... That Andalite, Ossanlin, seems to have surprising knowledge. And Mar might know, although he also might have no interest in telling me, for his own purposes. I doubt he'd want me to go." Her eyes track the entrance of Myitt to the bar, and she sighs. "Although with his Precious back to distract him, he might not give a damn."
She flinches at Myitt shoots the Imperial Zorish and sighs, leaning back in her seat. "This place is too exciting," she mutters.
A tiny Yeerk ship, not so shiny and new as it had been the last time it landed at the Bar, dips out of orbit and comes to a rather abrupt, decisive landing on the planetoid's surface in the shipyard. The place in which it has settled is, by no mistake, right next to Myitt's recently abandoned Bug fighter.
The glowing lights fade and, a moment later, the Madra's hull opens, revealing a rather short, graying man. He is wearing jeans and black track jacket over a frayed grey t-shirt, but the colorless palate of his clothes makes no hint as to his rather boisterous personality.
Strolling down the ramp, the man casually orders the hull closed and locked and wanders towards the Bar, hands stuffed into his pockets, a casual grin on his face. A grin of anticipation.
When he reaches the building's door and pushes it open, the smile widens--until he spots Myitt. "Hey," he calls out, immediately quickening his pace as he heads towards her, "what's going on? You okay?" His eyebrows shoot skyward towards his messy, short hair. "I leave you ten minutes and you're already getting yourself hurt."
-
"Oh, cool," Citrus said. She looked around. She then asked,"So who were those people you were with?"
-
"Yeah," Trey agrees, pulling himself to his feet, his eyes on the fallen woman. He sighs, his dark eyes watching Elayne, betraying his unease. "I want to leave," he says. "I'm not any use here and...and I don't know how long I'll stay alive if I stay here, honestly. Not the way this place runs."
Through Tamora's unfocused eyes Zorish can make out hazy, indistinct sillhouettes over his body. One must be Myitt, the other unfamiliar. Sounds reach Tamora's ears, but they are fuzzy and Zorish cannot put meaning to them.
<<By the Kandrona itself, Tamora, wake up,>> Zorish hisses uselessly.
-
Claxter finished leading Mar to the ship, and into the med bay. <Thank you, Parker.> He said. He showed Ossanlin to Mar. <As I've said, it's a strange condition. I really hope you can halep, and if you'd like, perhaps we'd be able to repay you. Though I am aware you're not really a virtuous person. whatever you ask in return should be something we'd be willing to voluntarily do.>
-
"Well, the guy I was talking to before I had just met," Julian said. "You mean Gaz and Morgan? The lady and the minotaur guy? Morgan, well I grew up with him, we were good friends. They had to go back and take care of some things, but I decided to stay here. I had just arrived. Wanted to check this place out, see what it was like."
-
Myitt looks up at the graying man without a bit of surprise.
"I'm not hurt," she murmurs, although her limp arm dangles uselessly at her right side and she's still using the counter as a stabilizer. She nods down at Zorish. "The Sub-Visser wanted revenge for his death. Imagine that? A dead person, a set of them, trying to kill me."
She huffs an incredulous laugh, shaking her head. "So, you supposed to be our like, knight in shining armor?" In spite of the situation the grin she gives the man is one of sly confidence.
-
Elayne smirks and nods. "Miracle we didn't die in our sleep, huh?" she says to Trey. "Well..." she raises her eyebrows, tilting her head to the side, "maybe we could just give it a go. In my ship. If you're feeling brave, or stupid."
"Sub-Visser?" the man asks blankly. It's only then that he seems to notice the woman on the ground. "Wait--Terenia--?" He mutters with a frustrated sigh, "This damned bar."
He makes his way over to Myitt, bending down to pick up the Dracon on the ground. "If I'm your knight, I'm in embarrassingly shabby armor. Hope you don't mind," he says, offering her the gun with a smirk. "So, you sure you're okay?" he eyes her dangling arm with concern.
-
"I like shabby armor," she sighs, pursing her lips. Myitt's eyes track his towards her limp arm.
"My fault," she says, adjusting herself against the bar counter with a wince and taking the Dracon awkwardly with her left hand. "Shot them at close range. Stupid, but so was Zorish, so I had to, you know...act."
She bites her lip and looks down at Tamora. "It's her twin. Tamora. You never met her, but the resemblance is striking, huh?"
-
Citrus nodded. "Oh, cool. And no, I don't know Gaz and Morgan. I'm new here, remember?"
-
Julian nodded. "Right. Wish you could have met them, interesting people. Well, with luck the may come back sometime in the future. Depending on how things go."
After finishing his drink, Julian glanced around the bar to have a quick look at the other patrons. Interesting looking people, all of them. He wondered what brought them here, and why they stayed.
"So, what's your story? How did you get here? Because I'm willing to bet not everyone gets here the same way."
-
Salem's hair stood on end. Jocun was far more willing to cooperate than he'd anticipated. He was presumably loading the information being asked for, and putting himself in a very dangerous and vulnerable position, without so much as a thought for what the rest of the deal might entail. Either he was eager to please and eager to make friends... or Salem was walking right into a trap.
He suspected that there had to be an accomplice here with Rathien, and the beeping in his head seemed to indicate that Rathien was tailing him... closing the trap? No way the hunter would have shown his position without some kind of failsafe. It was starting to look more and more like it might be Jocun... thinking back, he hadn't seen Simon around until after Rathien had appeared. Not that that told him anything.
He glanced at Keshin... why would Rathien want to get him and Keshin alone? With Keshin here, it seemed more likely that this was a rebel maneuver. He raised an eyebrow at Simon. If that was the case, he was definitely a respectable actor, having come to the bar asking about the rebellion themselves.
So... was Jocun a rebel misdirecting him? Or Rathien's right-hand man?
Why not both?
Still... had to see how this was going to play out. Not much he could do if Rathien was ready to shoot him if he walked out the door.
<<Kess, keep your eyes open. Something feels wrong here. Be ready. Rathien's nearby.>> he said to the hunter in private thought-speak.
To Simon, he put on a smile. "Well, that's accommodating. Thank you. I was hoping I'd have the chance to grab some equipment from my ship first, but I'll make do." He pulled a small device from his pocket and ran it over Jocun a couple of times before putting it back. He then pulled out his persona scanner and clicked it at the Yeerk, before turning back to Jocun with a smile.
"Mind setting him down for a minute? I need to get a scan of him without you in the image."
Al laughed, "You're probably right. Gotta be the tuxedo." Without another word, his image flickered through about a dozen different outfits in a matter of seconds, before he finally seemed to settle on a bright purple track suit with yellow stripes, a similiarly-colored dirty headband, and a running weight in each hand.
He then imitated Ewa, rocking back and forth, and launched into a cartwheel, weights still in hand. He managed to stay upright and land it, albeit less gracefully than she'd done. He laughed again, his eyes twinkling. "Guess you were right."
He proceeded to perform a sloppy backflip, then another, and another, until he was backflipping across the field, away from Ewa. When he was about twenty yards away, he caught himself on his hands, mid-backflip, and pushed off in the other direction, front-flipping back towards her. As he reached her, he kicked off the ground sideways, twisted to catch himself on one hand and one foot, and managed to kick into another set of cartwheels. He cycled all the way around her, stood up, his hands in the air, and dropped into a clumsy somersault, which he couldn't quite complete. He got caught halfway in, fell onto his side, and rolled onto his back in the grass, panting.
"Tah dah!" he said quietly.
-
Simon frowned a bit. "I think I kind of do mind. Yeerks being vulnerable, and you being such a new acquaintance and all. Of course with this information, we're going to want something pretty big in return." After a couple of seconds of thought, he came up with an idea. "I suppose I could put him in his container, behind glass, if that's doable for you."
-
"I think I'd need to be braver and stupider to stay here," Trey says with a shrug. "We can try. Maybe if your ship doesn't work one of the junked ones in the shipyard will. I don't...I don't think I'm very much use as a pilot, but I can try. My dad taught me a few basics. I just can't...land very well. Or take off." He winces.
-
"I'm not a great pilot, myself," Elayne sighs, "but... well, I can get us off the ground. And if we have a bumpy landing, I can make repairs. That much, at least, I'm good for," she smiles. Standing up, she takes a few steps towards the door, casting a final look around the room for Mar.
"Striking, yeah," the man murmurs, turning his gaze to the unconscious Imperial. "They look freakin' identical." He leans against the bar beside Myitt, giving her a curious glance. "So, you wanna just leave her there or what? And, uh, Zorish and Tamora... aren't they supposed to be dead?"
-
The computer began to bring up images of the woman's molecular code, showing pretty basic differences in the way this person's body processed energy through her cells. Her body was rapidly generating various forms of cancer due to severe by-products of normal metabolic activity. Her body attempted to cope with this by constantly expelling the poison in a strange form from the pores of her skin. However, the desperate attempts of her cells to survive the onslaught wouldn't last forever. Her heart rate was almost twice the speed of a normal human being----by all rights this person should have been dead years ago. Fixing Joanne would either require the use of severe depressant chemicals on her body or a basic re-wiring of her systems.
Keshin overhears Salem's peculiar statement and frowns, tensing energy through Joanne's muscles in case of possible assault. The computer registers the change. He can't respond to Salem, and isn't sure how the trader spoke to him. But Salem had helped before, and he didn't think the man would lie without reason. That Rathien guy must be close. "So, what do you think of the data? Can it be done?" says Keshin, inquiring.
*****************************************************************************************
Mar glances over Ossanlin, tracing a black gloved hand over his body. The War-Prince had been using far too much of his connection as of late---he was becoming lost in the transition between himself and the Ellimist. Mar understood that the Light Highest was a collective, as so many of them were. As Mar himself was, whether human beings comprehended this or not. Mar draws up his sleeve, revealing part of the bizarre organic-looking prosthetic replacing his left arm.
"I think it is possible for me to draw Ossanlin back, yes," says Mar with a wary eye at Claxter. "He is only half connected to his own body. You must advise him to stop using his connection so often, or it will consume him. Ossanlin is a gifted paladin, not an incarnation. Doing this may shut down or dampen my connection to the rest of me, and I have only just regained it. I think...."
Mar paces about the room, folding his hands behind his back. He was not sure if this was a good idea to ask, but his greed was beginning to become too potent. Ossanlin held too much potential for him to simply ignore. "...that I will recover the War-Prince for you if he agrees to...do a number of things for me when I ask it of him. Regardless of his qualms about my possible requests. Favors. I will not interfere with his work, but I will appear upon my own time. You could offer me no material object of more value than the services of the War-Prince himself."
-
"I could administer depressants, but attempting to rewrite your system would be a more permanent thing if it worked. Our doctors have made some strides in biological technology over time, though there are some risks. I would have to consult some of my best doctors. This will take some time to send the data, have them go over it, and send a message back. Until then I can give you medicine to slow down the process." He went over to a cabinet and got out some things. He came back with something he could administer with the same device used to draw her blood. "I don't have a whole lot right now, but I can quickly order some more."
He sent the information out, and went to a container for Jocun. "Like I said, Salem. If it's possible to scan him through glass, I'd be willing to do that."
<We can't have him agree to anything before you help him, and I don't have the authority to say he will do anything that he objects to.> Claxter said. He didn't know if Mar would help if there was a chance he wouldn't get something he'd think was worth this help. What would happen if Ossanlin died? What would happen to him or Efaen?
-
Citrus looked away for a second, but then looked back. "Well, it's not exactly my favourite topic," She said slowly, looking down, "Mind if we talk about something else?"
-
Julian noticed talking about herself was a touchy subject for this young woman. He could respect that, if she wanted to talk about it, she would in time. He nodded in understanding.
"No problem, but if you ever need to talk to someone you can borrow an ear," Julian reassured. He motioned to the bartender to bring over a couple more drinks, at the same time he was trying to think of something else to talk about. "This round is on me, I insist."
"I'll let you choose the next topic, since we hit on a sensitive one," Julian said.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin continues to look blithely around the room. He sees Claxter enter, yet does not truly see him. As Mar enters the room however, his body tenses involuntarily, a sharp hiss of breath is drawn through his respiratory cavities. His mind echoes confusion...Mar...f riend...but he didn't like him...or was it him? Something...somethi ng didn't like Mar...and his body was responding to "something's" desire. What...what was this, where was he? Who was...
He 'hisses' again as his eyes run across Mar for a second time, the same conversation echoing through his head again as if the first had never occurred.
-
"Yup," Myitt says grimly, the fingers on her right hand starting to twitch. "Deader'n door nails." She looks up at the man. "If I leave, Zorish will be awfully cross, you know." Slowly the smile returns. "He had his poor heart set on revenge, but I don't think he can actually seek me out in whatever universe he's come from and kill me in my past. Surely space-time wouldn't be so cruel?"
-
"Well, I could tell you someday," Citrus said with a slight bit of a smile,"I'm just not one of those people who'll trust a stranger easily. So, what's your home word like?"
-
Claxter noticed ssanlin didn't look at ease to see Mar. <It's alright Prince Ossanlin. It's just Mar. He's willing to help....for a price.> He said the last part quietly.
-
Keshin glances at the vial offered by Simon, eventually taking it from him. He turns it over and over again in his hands, as if contemplating something. "You would offer me this for....nothing? I work...every single day to get this kind of medicine for Joanne. I kill people for that which slows down her death. And...you'd give me a vial right here. You people really must be from the future."
<And we should be takin' weird crud from this future? You ain' got no sense, Kess. >
<I'm not going to inject it until I am certain it isn't dangerous, but we will be getting their help.>
<What about what that Salem guy says? You sure these blokes ain' trouble?>
<..........no, I'm not sure at all.>
Keshin nods at Simon's other comments. "Once we find out how much it will cost your group, we will attempt brokering a deal with you. What exactly is in this vial?"
***********************************************************************************************
Mar ever so slightly smirks at Ossanlin's discomfort. It was clear that the Ellimist wasn't fond of him: Ossanlin was his "friend." As far as Mar knew the Highest didn't know him, but he probably reminded that entity of someone it did know. The lines between Entropic beings were always a bit vague: many of them had no life force and thus no permanent identity. Mar had kept a variant of this one a long time. It reminded him of a person he had once been, long ago.
"I am not inclined to do something for no guarantee, young vassal," Mar mutters, stroking his odd hand along Ossanlin's chest. "However...the War-Prince has great honor. Do you believe I could rely on the Andalite's sense of debt? I know from experience that his guilt can be...remarkable."
-
"I'm afraid I can't just do this for free to someone I don't really know. If you want this, you'll work for Jocun as long as we're giving this to you. You shouldn't worry about that too much, though. He's quite agreeable for the most part. That is a strong dose of Ixliizx. It's a strong depressant, but shouldn't put you in a coma or anything. We usually give it to people having bouts of hysteria, or otherwise violently unstable. Obviously you're not bouncing off the walls right now, so you're likely to feel sluggish, but if you need strong deppresants then this should do it."
<I am sure Prince Ossanlin will repay you in any way that is within his power and morals to do. I can't say anymore.>
-
Julian took a sip of his drink. "I come from a planet called Eurydice, one of a handful of similarly named planets. My mother, for example, attended university on Isis. Eurydice is one of the mid-planets. Not quite the Inner Planets where the CG has their main set up, but it was nice. Very green and peaceful in spots. We lived not to far from a majorly populated area."
Another swallow of drink was taken. "My father was athletic and he brought back some of the older things. Such as sword tournaments and the like. For some reason they really took off and they have their own leagues and everything now."
-
"So then, what? You wanna just turn around and head back to the Base?" the short man asks Myitt. "What about our break?" He leans casually against the bar next to her and continues talking: "We sure deserve it, don't you think? Or maybe they'll let us order it to go. There aren't any intragalactic regulations against drinking and flying, are there?"
He grins, glancing down at Myitt's arm. "Is it starting to come back to the land of the living?"
-
"Sort of," Myitt murmurs, looking down at her prickling arm. Slowly she makes a fist and attempts to shake it out, but her muscles only half cooperate. "Yeah, if we can get food and drink to go, I say we blow this pop stand."
She eyes Tamora. "Jeez, she's been out for a while." Hesitantly, her Dracon still in her left hand, she crouches by the girl. "She's breathing. That's as far as I'm going to go with half of our arms functioning."
-
After Silver had said her goodbyes to her father and Gaz, wihing them the best of luck and asking that they keep in touch with her, she looked at the bar. She needed to meditate but she was afraid that if she slipped into Alpha state of mind, she would become unconcious once again. She had looked around for Parker, but for some reason she couldn't find him, which was unusual, even in her state. Her powers needed to mend and she was severely confused on why she was so out of wack. She knew Julian had headed into the bar for a drink, no doubt he would find conversation there with one of the many odd yet interesting creatures within those walls. Asfter looking around, Silver headed towards the lake. "maybe a swim will help me.....its as close to meditation I'm going to get for now......" She walked slowly trying to listen and feel for the earth and air around her that her powers normally let her communicate with. She got faint traces, but had slightly tired herself out as she reached the edge pf the lake. She slipped off her boots and leather breeches, revealing what looked to be a bakini bottom made of the same material as her pant were more of a teal color that matched the streaks in her hair. She took off her vest, which left an animal hide tube toop across her chest to cover her. She folded her things placing them beside a tree stump and walked to the waters edge. After watching a moment she jumped in with a graceful dive
-
It seems as though an endless period of fuzzy images and sounds pass before Zorish finally senses the faintest inkling of awareness from his host.
<<Tamora,>> he hisses urgently. <<Tamora, get up. I need you conscious, dammit.>>
<<What...?>> Tamora's thoughts are confused and half-formed, but she is awake enough that Zorish is able to blink her eyes back into focus, and the faded figures above him materialize into Myitt and a stranger. Great, Zorish thinks, assuming the stranger must be another rebel. Now there's two of them.
Grunting with the effort he weakly raises Tamora's arm to the back of their head, checking the damage and wincing against the dull throb there.
"You shot me," he accuses Myitt in a raspy, weak voice. He coughs once, then winces as it sends a shard of pain through Tamora's head.
-
Myitt instinctively draws back, keeping the Dracon as steady as she can in her off hand.
"Yes," she says bluntly, standing up and aiming the gun down at Tamora's chest. "I did. And you are outnumbered. So I suggest you forget your little plot for pan-dimensional vengeance, and we both go about our lives as peacefully as we can."
-
Hoisting himself slowly into a sitting position, Zorish opens his mouth to protest, but snaps it closed again as Tamora regains enough sense to grasp the situation. Her fear floods their shared body.
<<Zorish, just let it go,>> Tamora pleads. <<I don't want to die. She'll kill us, you know she will. She already did.>>
Bitter defeat written across his face, Zorish presses his lips into an angry line and raises both hands, palms outward. "Alright," he says lowly. "I won't risk harming Tamora further than you already have. Just aim that damned thing somewhere else and we'll be on our way."
-
Myitt watches Tamora's face for a long moment, her mouth twisted into a scornful scowl.
"It would be my pleasure," she sneers, glancing at Illim and turning away from the Sub-Visser, stalking towards the door. Her right leg limps slightly, but is otherwise functional.
-
Zorish lowers his hands, disgusted to find that they are shaking. I am not cut out for battle, he thinks grimly. There were reasons beyond Tamora's protection that he had avoided the worst of the war. Warily, he looks at the man that arrived during his unconsciousness.
"I'm going to stand up and retrieve my weapon now," he says flatly, Tamora's voice almost petulant in its bitterness. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't shoot me back down while I did so."
He casts another glance behind the man, towards Myitt's retreating figure.
<<In what dapsen universe does the likes of her get the best of me twice?>> he wonders, uncomfortably aware of how easily Tamora's relief is mingling with his own.
-
Salem shrugged at Simon, "Sure, whatever. Wouldn't be much of a scanner if it didn't work through glass. I just don't want your aura getting in the way." He looked around. Still no real indicators that this was a trap...
"Unlike Keshin's rare medicine, your giving me information should cost you nothing whatsoever. Still, I can't help thinking that there's more at work here than you're letting on." He absently played with the controls on his persona scanner. "So what is it you'll be wanting in return? Technology? Information? Or, since you haven't even verified my ability to pay, are you treating this deal with me like you're treating the one with Keshin, and just saying I owe you a favor, to be collected on later?" He stared hard into Simon's eyes, "Because I've dealt with crime syndicates before. Not particularly feeling the need to jump on board with another."
-
"Uh huh," the short murmur murmurs with a shrug.
He starts to follow Myitt, although he seems hesitant to turn his back on Zorish. His left hand, made of living metal below the elbow, reaches for the Dracon at his hip, although he doesn't pull it from the holster yet.
Wandering sideways, almost crablike, the man moves towards Myitt, his brown eyes trained on Zorish and Tamora the whole time.
-
Zorish grunts and continues to pull himself to his feet, using the bar stool to aid his shaky limbs. When he finally manages to pull himself onto the stool he reaches out and grabs his Dracon from the countertop. For a brief moment he considers using it, but Myitt is too far away and Zorish is a poor shot. With a frustrated sigh he slams the weapon into its holster.
"At least she left me a present," Zorish mutters aloud. He eyes the half-finished bottle of redin that Myitt had abandoned after shooting him. Begrudgingly, he pulls it closer.
<<What are you doing?>> Tamora demands shrilly. <<We need to get out of here.>>
<<If she was going to kill us,>> Zorish responds dully, grabbing his used tumbler and helping himself to a glass, <<she already would have.>> He lifts the tumbler to his mouth, swallowing its contents in one burning gulp.
"****," the curse hisses out of his lips as he coughs on the liquor.
<<Well I don't want you killing me either!>> Tamora protests.
<<You have a headache, and I've had a bad day,>> Zorish retorts. <<I'm remedying the situation.>>
He pours himself another glass, his misery etched into his expression.
-
Simon put Jocun in the pool as he spoke. "Probably the most important thing right now is information. The bar, the rebels, and anyone you know that's currently here or frequents this place. Besides that, it would be helpful to have some local aquaintences. I don't think we've made any friends here yet, and even though we could call down as many guards as we want, we think it would hurt more thna help. Especially since our most loyal and skillful guard has an Andalite host."
"I could say a lot of things to try to convince you that I don't have ulterior motives, but time and actions gain trust more than words."
-
Citrus nodded, "Oh, cool." She started to take another sip of her rink but then realized that she finished already. Citrus looked around, then asked, "So do you think maybe we can join Gaz and Morgan?"
-
Silver let her hair down from its braid and let it flow as she swam beneath the water. She tried to think of how she had shorted her powers and how she could get it back. Maybe someone in the bar could help? ......she wouldn't know who to ask anyway. She swam and floated and realized that the water helped her relax.
-
Julian shook his head. "Tried to suggest that. Morgan wouldn't accept. This was something he wanted to do on his own. With any luck he'll be back soon. Anyways, his daughter is still here and I promised I would stick around for her sake."
Julian wondered where Silver was, he had left to give her and Morgan some space to talk before Morgan and Gaz took off. She must still be around, probably still outside.
-
Zoshonel made it to the ramp and saw Parker. "Hey Parker. Long time no see. I came back and smelled your familiar scent, so I decided to say hi. I've been practicing with a rifle a bit since I've been away. It shoots bullets, but if I need to stun someone I can load it with non lethal stuff. How have you been?"
-
Citrus nodded. "Okay..." She looked at her empty cup again. "Uh, I think I'll get a refill first." Citrus walked to a server and ordered another drink. She got back and sat down again.
-
Ewa's smirk held as she watched Al flash through his outfits, a long moment that seemed to stretch forward and backward through time, blurring everything. He settled on the purple and yellow exercise clothes and she blinked once, slowly. By the time he got up to try the cartwheel again, she had remembered to breathe and her mind rushed to catch up to the rest of her body.
Fast, too fast. That had to be projection, not... but no, that bit fell to the floor earlier. A large projection field? A projection field and a shifter bar? The energy it would take though... She watched as Al smoothed his way into perfect backflips, then reversed direction and came flipping back toward her. Beautiful kinesthetic control... this can't be a new form for him. But then why is it wrong? He looks the same as all the other under-trained "humans" around here. If someone had been playing that kind of form for so long I would have seen it.
Al collapsed next to her with a faint "ta da". I need more information.
Ewa leaned over to look down at Al's face, eyebrows raised in an expression that was miffed, but still slightly amused. "Holding out on me, were you?" Out of sight, she slightly lengthened two of her nails to sharpened points. "Though I suppose you do look slightly less ridiculous trying to cartwheel in this." She plucked at his sleeve. Feels real. "Not that I can approve of the headband," she noted with a grimace and reached up as if to push it off. One of her modified nails pressed against his skin and would make a small "accidental" cut as she continued to move the headband.
-
Bivsitz goes ahead and orders another drink, then looks around the room. "What is that?" the Sheyran asks, forgetting that when your eyes are equally spaced around your body, aliens can't necessarily tell what you're looking at.
-
Zorish finishes his glass and considers the bottle of redin. He senses that Tamora is right, it would be wise to stop drinking. And why should I listen to what the human has to say? he scolds himself. He pours again.
A battered Bug Fighter slides out of Zero-Space and slowly begins to circle down towards the bar. The ship has clearly seen better days; it is so dented and scarred and covered over with mismatched metal sheeting that it scarcely resembles its original ****roach-like form. Instead, it looks more similar to a tin can that has been kicked around a bit.
The ship seems to work well enough, though. It thrums, straining slightly as it decelerates in the atmosphere, coming to nearly a complete stop as the ground rushes up. Landing gear extends creakily and the ship settles comfortably onto the gravel, looking as though it will not be lifting off again for quite some time.
The hatch hisses open and a ramp extends. A young man in his mid-twenties steps out, descends the ramp, and orders his ship to close up once more. A second order activates the cloaking device, and the battered Bug disappears.
Running a shaking hand through his shaggy, strawberry blonde hair, the young man turns and begins making for the bar. His ship is clearly not the only thing that has seen better days. His jeans are coated with dark stains and fraying in several places. His shirt was once a neat button-down, but it is wrinkled and rumpled, as though he has slept in it for several nights. The only thing that appears shiny and well-kept about him is the Dracon holstered at his hip.
As he crunches over the gravel, the young man shoves his hands deep into their pockets to hide the trembling there. He takes in the activity outside of the bar, making careful note of everyone he sees and storing the information away silently.
-
Myitt pushes the heavy wooden front door open, crunching onto the gravel of the shipyard.
She pauses just long enough to hold the door for Illim, then shoves her hands into her jacket pockets and glares at the ground as she walks.
-
"Five more minutes..." Jasper said, reaching for the snooze button.
There wasn't an alarm clock on the table. He hit the napkins instead. That seemed to work for him.
<<How long were we out?>> Sapttus said groggily. They had woken up at the same time. Like usual.
<<I don't know, man. There must have been something in that ... whatever it was I just had.>>
<<You don't even know what it was... and.. you drank it....>>
<<No... I just don't... remember... is all. And hey, you drank it too.>> They both stared at the empty mug in front of them.
The world may never know.
Neither of them recognized any of the other bar patrons. Considering how weird this place was, he wasn't totally sure he hadn't slept for years. It was a really weird feeling. It felt like a dream, like they were going to wake up back in their apartment and leave for work shortly. But... they were still sitting in this crumbling old shack.
<<Any sign of Salem? Or Al?>> Sapttus asked.
<<You see out the same eyes I do, bud. I don't see any - >>
<<THEY FOUND US THEY'RE HERE THEY'RE GOING TO DRAG US BACK TO HIM AND - >>
At the sight of the woman in the Yeerkish uniform – dear lord, it was a subvisser's uniform – Sapttus's panic nearly induced a minor heart attack in his host. Jasper was more than slightly freaked out as well, of course, but he knew that they had to keep their cool. Well, at least they had to try. They'd snapped their head forward, staring now at the wall, not making eye contact. But that left their back turned to their assumed bounty hunter.
<<We'll just wait a minute, and then we'll just get up and leave. We're going to be fine.>>
<<You don't even believe that yourself.>>
-
Zorish glances blearily to the side at sudden movement from one of the patrons he had assumed was unconscious. Squinting Tamora's eyes he tries to make out the human's features, but the room is spinning enough to make it difficult to focus.
<<Okay,>> he relents to Tamora. <<I've had enough.>> Roughly, he pushes the tumbler of redin away from him, surprised to find that it is empty again. When had he drank that last glass?
<<Sleep,>> Tamora mumbles half-coherently, thinking of their cloaked fighter. Zorish nods, grunts, and pushes away from the table. The movement almost makes him fall, but he clutches at the counter and steadies himself.
"This is gonna be a long walk," he murmurs aloud, words slurring perceptibly.
The young blonde man's eyes light up when the bar door opens and Myitt's scowling form emerges.
"Myitt," he says, quickening his stride. The tenseness in his shoulders eases slightly and he pulls his hands from his pockets - they are no longer shaking. He nods to the man behind Myitt. "Illim. I hoped we'd find you guys here. Leaving already, eh?" His voice has a slight Canadian lilt to it.
-
Myitt stops short, staring at Keslin.
"Yes," she says tersely, "and you should be, too. There's a Sub-Visser in there who should be dead. Terenia's twin sister. Luckily she's probably also quite drunk."
She stops next to Keslin and turns back toward the bar door, biting her lip. Her right hand clenches and unclenches into a light fist, keeping her Dracon in her left hand.
-
Keslin's eyebrows draw together in confusion. "A Sub-Visser who should be dead?" he repeats, bewildered. He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, looking at Illim to see if he can provide a better explanation.
"Well if she's drunk, shouldn't we, uh, be taking advantage of the situation?" he asks. "Getting your hands on a high-ranking Imperial is kind of a rare occurance."
-
The short man--now identified as Illim--steps through the Bar's door into the eternal twilight of the planetoid after Myitt. Following her lead, he stops short, eyes focusing on Keslin and face breaking into a natural smile by way of greeting.
"One of those freaky Bar anomalies, ya know," he shrugs. "Can't know what timeline or universe he's from, but in ours, at least, both he and his host're dead."
Illim turns his attention to Myitt. "So... would there be any adverse effects to shoot him while he's down or whatever you had in mind, even if he is from our universe? Or might that mess with your past?" He sighs, shaking his head. "Maybe I should let the astronomer in here--" he taps his head with a living metal finger "--have time to come up with a hypothesis."
-
Myitt barks a laugh. "Okay, Daniel," she says with a smug smile. "Let's see what 21st century human astrophysics can come up with. Personally, I don't think she's from our universe, even if hers might be extremely similar to ours. The biggest nail in that proverbial coffin is that Zorish would have remembered me when I showed up to destroy her. Unless the bar effectively erased their memory of the events here. Damn it, I hate this place, it throws such a completely unknown variable into this equation!"
She stomps her foot into the gravel, scowling.
-
"Go easy on him," Illim smirks, rolling his eyes and leaning back against the Bar's exterior wall to survey her in amusement. "No point in getting too superior; all of our understanding of science is stolen, anyway."
He glances at the window behind him, trying to spot Zorish inside, but the glass is too grimy. "Anyway, sounds reasonable enough. If they're from a different universe, then there's no danger. Except here at the Bar, of course," he raises an eyebrow.
-
The young man's face breaks into a wide grin as Keslin's host assumes control.
"Don't throw a temper tantrum now, Myitt," he says with a wink at Illim. He leans forward and continues in a stage whisper. "The bar might hear you and stage an uprising. We wouldn't want that, eh?"
-
Myitt stares balefully at Keslin. "No," she says. "We wouldn't."
Abruptly she turns to Illim. "So, the Sub-Visser from another universe can't shoot any of us in a drunken stupor? That sounds uh...dangerous. Forgive me if I'm mistaken, here."
-
Illim shakes his head, waving a hand at her. "That's why I said there's danger here. Which is why we should continue our plan of getting outta here." He tugs the comm link from his pocket, inspecting it briefly before shoving it back into hiding. "And maybe we've still got time to make it somewhere else for our vacation."
He raises an eyebrow at Myitt with a grin. "Italy, anyone?"
-
"Yes," Myitt says flatly, marching off towards her ship. "Italy is preferable to this place."
-
Keslin and his host watch as Myitt stalks off, shrugging almost imperceptibly. "Alright, then," he says, giving Illim a smile. "I was hoping we'd be able to catch a beer with you, but some other time, eh? I'll, uh...I'll catch you guys back on base."
He gives a small wave, then pushes past Illim and enters the bar proper.
It is busier than the last time he was here, with a much more varied clientele. Nevertheless it takes him approximately two seconds to spot the Sub-Visser's tell-tale uniform. She is, as Myitt warned, obviously very drunk. He resolves to avoid her and instead makes his way to one of the booths, looking around for any familiar faces.
Zorish finally manages to orient himself towards the front door, clinging with one hand to the bar counter all the while. He takes a staggering step forward, pauses, and almost runs the distance between the counter and the door, half falling into it.
"Stupid dapsen body...why can't you...grah," Zorish grunts, pushing the door open and practically running straight into Illim. He falls back in surprise, landing on his butt in the dirt.
"Hey," he slurs, blinking owlishly up at Illim. "You're that...that guy that was with Myitt. Where - where is she?" He whips his head around, looking for her. "Myitt!" he shouts hoarsely, trying to regain his footing and only succeeding in falling again.
"She shot me," he offers in indignant explanation.
-
Myitt turns around and blinks down at the drunk Sub-Visser.
After a few seconds of gaping she collects her jaw and raises her Dracon.
"Listen, drunky," she drawls. "Why don't you have a nice drink of water and go to sleep? Right here on the dirt? I'm sure the door won't hit you too much."
-
This time Zorish is able to get himself to his feet successfully. He leans against the outer wall of the bar and peers at Myitt. His free hand trails down to his own weapon, but the holster is empty. Did I leave my Dracon on the counter? he wonders dimly.
"I don't want...don't want any..." he takes a shuddering breath and staggers slightly, barely keeping his footing. "Don't want any trouble," he finally finishes. "I just..."
He trails off, eyes tracking.
"Be quiet," he snaps after a moment of silence. He falls heavily against the wall and holds his head in his hands. "I'll get you your dapsen nap, alright? I'm sorry, okay? I'll...I'll make it up to you. Later." He squeezes his eyes shut for a long moment, not seeming to realize that he has spoken aloud.
-
Silver walked up on shore, the water from her swim dripping down and leaving puddles in where her feet stepped on the ground. She reached down for her clothes and when she lifted them, her breeches caught something and tore. "Nikao!!" she cursed aloud as she stared at the now gaping hole. She wrapped her cloak around her , not bothering with drying off and made her way back to the bar in annoyance. Her cloak hung at her shoulders, instead of in front of her hiding her "Swimsuit". She walked through the lot of ships, her boots that she had hastily slipped on, crunched through the gravel towards the bar. She seen some people outside of the bar talking, she slid around them saying, "Excuse me...." and walked into the bar and right up to the bar. She asked the bartender if he had a mending kit and then ordered a drink as well as she waited plopping onto the stool.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien raises an eyebrow as three humans meet out in front of the bar. He taps a couple of buttons on his wrist-pad and amplifies the sound waves coming from the direction of the group. Unfortunately using the supression device in this manner causes all other sound around him to be dampened in order to make the further conversation audible.
Even with the amplification and his superior hearing, he can only catch snippets of the conversation passing between the three. From their tones and facial expressions, it's obvious that they know and appear to like each other. He catches the words "on base"...so these were all from the Rebellion? Interesting. And speaking of some sort of distortion in space-time...
He puts it out of his mind and changes the wave pattern around himself with the wrist-pad again so that he can hear in a normal fashion. He leans against the ship again, one foot crossed over the other, boot-toe nestled in the dirt as he pulls his Entroper out and begins fiddling with it, looking it over...caressing the trigger lovingly. It would be oh so wonderful to use it. He...itches for it. Not the warning of The Kill, but the mere desire to hold the fate of another life in his hands once again. So much power in that...so much.
He schools himself and holsters the Entroper again, directing his attention back to those aboard the ship against which he is currently resting, trying to hear their conversation. The one, the female that had gone into the ship with the others...she had a swagger about her, like a leopard ready to pounce at a moment's notice. And of course Tobias was always dangerous. But then dangerous prey was always the most rewarding. He smiles to himself, running his tongue over a fang in a mixture of desire and potential excitement.
-
Serid's dark eyes track the departure of the Sub-Visser after Myitt and the man who had not identified himself from his quieter section of the bar counter. The semi-familiar rebel and her companion had not even so much as glanced in his direction.
The nothlit's gaze shifts toward the Bar's most recent newcomer, an unfamiliar strawberry blond man. It had looked, for the brief moment that Serid had been able to see out the door, that the man had been speaking with Myitt and her companion.
A rebel? And from my own universe, at that? he wonders, knowing it is likely a long shot. There is simply no way to know. After a moment's deliberation, however, he stands from his stool and makes his way towards the booth where the man is sitting. As much as he has no patience for speaking about Ertoran, his curiosity about what exactly Illim has gotten himself into outweighs his reticence.
"Hello," he says with a polite nod to the man in the booth. "May I ask if you are a companion of Myitt's?"
Illim lurches away from the wall as Myitt turned to the shipyard, and a good thing, too, as Zorish staggers through the Bar's door a moment later, collapsing and then standing again in the place where he had been stationed.
He gives a low whistle, his eyes tracking towards Zorish's hand grasping emptily at his holister. "You really shouldn't get this drunk here, you know, Sub-Visser. It puts you at the mercy of folks you'd probably rather not have gunning you down."
Sympathy continues threatening to bubble up within Illim--the Sub-Visser looks exactly like Terenia, after all--and his host, Daniel, is of no help. <<We can't shoot anyone when they're like this, you know,>> the human says, keeping his internal tone reasonable. <<Not that you don't have it in you, Illim, but... not when they look like her.>>
-
Salem laughed and nodded at Simon, "Very true. I think I know that better than anyone." He clicked his persona scanner at Jocun, and then nodded at Simon. "That's all I need, thank you."
He sighed, "I'll provide you with what information I can, but you'll understand, of course, that certain things are more sensitive than others. I honor my agreements- current and future- with all my trading partners, which means that certain information... especially regarding the Yeerk Rebellion... might not be given freely." He smiled, "As long as we're clear. I'll certainly provide what I can."
Al grinned and shrugged at Ewa, "Not holding out. Just not used to doing cartwheels in this yet," he said, waving a hand to indicate his body. "Not sure it's really built for gymnastics. Little heavy and clunky."
He winced as Ewa's nail grazed him. True to his programming, a cut appeared, and a small amount of blood began to seep out.
"Ow." He reached up and grabbed her hand, gently moving it away from him. He sat up, his running weights, lying on the ground, disappearing as he did so. He pulled off his headband and tossed it to the ground, where it disappeared in a puff of smoke. "Think you need to trim your nails a bit," he said with a smile, pressing a hand to his forehead.
-
simon put Jocun back in his ear. Simon continued the conversation. "We don't want you to have to break any past agreements. Just as long as we get enough to continue our goals and hel the Yeerks become what they should be, instead of what they are. Since the scanning and such is done, would you rather talk elsewhere?"
-
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Ewa frowned with concern and retracted her hand from his, running the pad of her thumb over her fingers. "Must have caught an edge." Her eyes stayed fixed on where she saw the headband disappear. I just touched that.... if it was a projection, it was a ridiculously expensive one. No one actually uses something of that grade for this. What would be the point?
With the same nail that had grazed Al, Ewa nicked her thumb. "Ah, there it is." The knife at her wrist slipped into her hand and she began trimming down her nails. "Don't want any more accidents," she said absently, waiting to feel an effect. Her eyes flicked up to meet Al's, the default smirk hiding in the back of her expression. "How do you figure 'heavy and clunky'?" Finished with her nails, she slipped the knife back into its sheath. "I mean, the outfit is cringe-worthy--I'm sure that's the point--but since it can't actually change your body...." her eyes grew a bit distant, "and even if it did, it doesn't have...." Ewa trailed off. She blinked twice. What? That's.....
By exposing her blood--the most mobile part of her shifting system--to Al's, Ewa had intended to judge how much shifting he had done recently. It was a crude, qualitative trick most often used to check on young children who had to do significant shifting and might not be aware of how exhausted they were. The adult Paladinian would feel the isolated shifting system of the child's as a resistance to their own system at the point of contact and could judge the relative exhaustion based on the level of resistance. People with a lot of experience didn't even need the blood-blood contact. Ewa's mother was able to do it with just skin-skin contact. Of course, she had had a lot more practice.
What Ewa felt from Al was impossible: nothing. There was no resistance whatsoever. Even given extra time to compensate for a lethargic response, there was nothing. It can't.... He should be dead right now. Unconscious at the very, very least. No one can.... and supplements would still react so... but he can't NOT have a shifting system... can he?
Her eyes focused back on Al. "You're...." she trailed off, confused and unsure. "Are you...?" But she didn't know what question she wanted to frame. She stared at him, waiting.
-
The bartender brought back her drink and the mending kit. She paid up and went to find an empty table where she could mend her clothes. She laid her cloak on the back of her chair and sat down crossing her legs. She looked around the bar before starting to get things out to mend her clothes.
-
Myitt purses her lips. "Good. You don't want any trouble. Then crawl off of this rock and go home, or crash into the nearest star, for all I care." She glances at Illim. "I'm going to go back inside and finish my drink."
Heavy black boots step past the Sub-Visser and Myitt plants both hands on the greasy wooden door, pushing her way inside with an irritated grunt.
-
Zorish looks from Illim to Myitt, seeming almost on the verge of tears again.
<<I just want to take a nap,>> Tamora protests, unaware of the fact that it is her own tears seeping through Zorish's flimsy control. <<I don't want to...to go off on your stupid revenge missions and...and...>>
Tamora's breath hitches in her throat, a strangled sob forcing its way out, and she sinks back down to the cold ground, barely noticing Myitt's return into the bar.
"I don't- I don't know who you are," Tamora says to Illim, her voice thick with tears and drink, "but you...you...don't let her hurt him. Please...I..." she trails off, mumbling incoherently, her eyelids drooping.
Keslin looks up at Serid, surprised at being approached so quickly in a place that seemed to be visited by more paranoid types. His light blue eyes take in the dark-haired man quickly, flickering up and down his body before coming to a rest on his face.
"I suppose that depends on who is asking," Keslin says with a business-like smile.
-
Illim frowns at Myitt's back as she re-enters the building. "Like a freakin' pinball," he mutters, having been settling into the mindset of heading off to a nice beach in Italy somewhere for the remaining day or two of their time off.
At the pitiful sounds coming from Tamora, he sighs, his daydream fading as he turns his attention on her. "Look... I don't owe you anything. I'm not even sure I really understand what's going on here," he says, leaning back against the wall again. "Maybe you should just head to your ship--you've got one here?--and sleep it off. You're not doing yourself any favors by wandering around this place so vulnerable."
"That is hardly a straightforward beginning," Serid murmurs with a frown, "although I certainly cannot fault you for that."
The Andalite hesitates for a long moment and then finally extends his right hand, taking a chance. "My name is Serid; Illim is a... a friend of mine."
-
Myitt stalks up to the bar and stops in front of the dusty bottle of redin. She picks it up and frowns.
"Dapsen," she hisses through her teeth. "Bartender, can I have another bottle please?" Her voice belies her thinning patience.
-
With a nod, Keslin takes Serid's hand firmly. "Keslin 5-8-2," he says, looking closely at Serid for any reaction to the Yeerkish name. "And my host is Chris. He says hello as well."
Dropping his hand he leans back against the cracking plastic of the booth. "Have a seat," he invites, gesturing to the empty spot across from him. "So, Illim, eh?" He glances back towards the door, where he had last seen the Yeerk. "I didn't know he had many friends outside of the rebellion."
Zorish struggles to regain control over his sobbing host, finding it more difficult than usual. Her limbs do not want to respond and her breath keeps catching. He finally manages a halfhearted glare up at Illim.
"Fine. Probably...probably for the best...anyways..." he chokes out, reaching a hand up to grab onto the sill of one of the grimy windows. He tries to heft himself back to his feet, but his legs twist under him, refusing to support Tamora's weight. "****," he hisses, sliding back to the ground.
-
Serid gives Keslin's hand a single shake and then sits down across from him, settling straight-backed into the seat. If the Yeerkish name has startled him, he gives no indication.
"It is a pleasure to meet both of you," he replies politely. "As far as I know, Illim does not have outside friends. None, perhaps, save me." He regards Keslin and Chris curiously. "And you? Are you his friend?"
Illim has only bent a few inches, offering Zorish his hand, when Daniel pipes up. <<See? You can't stop seeing Terenia in her.>>
<<Whatever,>> Illim doesn't even bother to argue with his host. <<Let's just get them on their ship or whatever and go find Myitt.>>
<<Wait, so now you're going to escort this Sub-Visser to his ship because he looks like our friend?>>
<<No, I just-- I'm just giving him a damned hand up, alright?>> he snaps impatiently.
-
Keshin raises an eyebrow at the description of how they would get the medicine. He crosses his arms, tapping the ground. "Now, listen up. Joanne and I don't work for regular pay. It wrecks our freedom of movement, and in our line of work we need that. You guys probably aren't even planning to stick around very long."
Keshin paces slightly around the room, thinking. Their offer was extremely tempting. "Look, the most we'd be willing to do is pay for someone to fix Joanne with a series of regular jobs. If you can set that up, we can make a deal."
********************************************************************
Mar closes his eyes, weighing his options. On the one hand, there was the chance that Ossanlin would not give him his asking price. On the other hand, Ossanlin would die and there was no chance of using the War Prince at all. Mar would have to be annoyingly careful, but a dead Ossanlin was a wasted opportunity.
Mar puts his left hand on Ossanlin's chest, turning to Claxter with a severe look. "I will commit to the task. But do not expect it to be a free act. When he awakes and is stable, I will speak to him."
-
With an overly eager grab Myitt whisks the bottle of redin and a grimy glass off of the bar counter. She glances around the bar proper and nods at the little booth where Keslin and Serid were sitting.
"Far be it for me to deny an Andalite my company," she breathes, pausing momentarily to watch the front door.
<<Illim will be alright,>> Tara says reassuringly. <<That Sub-Visser couldn't shoot himself in the foot if she wanted to. I bet she'll end up hurling.>>
<<Don't disrespect the dead,>> Myitt mutters flatly, continuing on towards the booth where her friend and Illim's former host sit chatting.
She sets the bottle and the glass down on the scratched lacquer surface of the booth's table.
"Mind if I, uh, join you kids?" she says, although she's already sitting down next to Serid and giving the Andalite a hearty pat on the back as if they were old friends. "Serid, long time no see."
-
"I don't know him very well," Keslin admits. "But I suppose you could say that. At the very least, I'm friends with -" he trails off as Myitt joins them, smiling warmly. "Hey Myitt. Decide not to leave after all, eh?" He glances between Serid and Myitt. "So the two of you know one another, then?"
Zorish looks suspiciously at the offered hand, but he knows that he cannot get up by himself. Reluctantly, he reaches his own hand up, allowing the Yeerk to pull him to his feet. He totters for a moment, almost collapsing forward into the short man, but manages to just barely hold his ground.
"Thanks..." he slurs, staring at the dirt beneath his feet.
-
Serid slides farther into the booth to make room for Myitt, but when she thumps him on the back, he looks startled, grasping the table's edge and turning his head to watch her for signs of ill intent.
"Greetings, Myitt," he replies somewhat breathlessly, "if a flogging may be considered as such from whichever faraway stretch of Earth your host hails."
He turns his dark eyes on Keslin, straightening his back again and gives a nod. "We are acquainted. As of quite recently... for me, at least." Serid gives Myitt a questioning glance.
"Yup," Illim responds mildly, his hands tense at his sides, ready to fly up to catch Tamora if she should fall. When the Sub-Visser manages to stay stable, Illim glances around awkwardly. "So, uh... I guess I'll see ya, yeah?" he says lamely with a shrug, turning towards the door.
-
"Flogging?" Myitt cackles. "I'd hardly call it a flogging, but sure, I meant well enough."
She considers, uncapping the metal top of the new bottle and pouring some of the red liquor. "I guess it's been about a year since Illim joined us, if that's what you mean." A little wriggle of her fingers greets Keslin as she raises the glass to her lips.
-
"well I'd better go see what's going on in the bar proper." Zoshonel said, saying goodbye to Parker for the moment. He went back to the building, and saw who he thought was a drunk Terenia. However, she didn't smell quite right. He didn't smell Corliss on her, even though from what Terash had told him Corliss was about the only person who valued her. Her uniform seemed a bit too neat as well. He figured he'd pass by and investigate that later. Inside he found Myitt, and the familiar scent of redin.
"Hey Myitt! Remember me?" He said. It had been a few months, but he figured he should be memorable enough.
-
Myitt squints up at Zoshonel over her glass of alcohol, eyebrows raised. She sets down the tumbler and looks the creature up and down.
"Not really," she says brightly. She punctuates her snark with another swallow of booze.
-
He wasn't too put off by that. "I'm Zoshonel. I was here briefly. I left to go to a celebration, but I came back to see some old acquaintances. Temrash said he and Corliss had a falling out over Terenia, and those two were an item. I think I saw Terenia outside, but I'm not sure if it was really her."
-
Keslin nods. "I'd be interested to hear how you know one another," he says to Serid. When Zoshonel arrives his lips tighten slightly at the sudden influx of people. Years aboard a small ship has led him to be cautious when surrounded by many...especially strangers.
<<You're cautious around everything,>> his host pipes up. <<Here, give me control. At least we can go get a drink or something.>>
<<Very well,>> Keslin says reluctantly, relinquishing control over his host. <<Just do not do anything foolish.>>
The young human grins. <<Would I ever?>>
"I'm going to go grab myself a brew," he announces to the table. "Anyone want anything?"
Zorish stares at Illim blankly for a minute. "Yeah," he breathes at last. "Yeah. I'll...I'll...dapsen." He looks around. "Gotta...find my ship..." he murmurs, half to himself. "Yeah. Ship. Right." He takes a few staggering steps in the general direction of the shipyard.
-
Myitt stares blankly at Zoshonel before turning to Keslin. "I've got mine, thanks."
She peers at Zoshonel again. "I don't know what you're talking about. Go away, can't you see I'm busy getting drunk?" She waves him off, burying herself in her drink again.
While she tips back the glass she finds herself squinting at Serid. It was so strange, knowing that the Andalite had once been Illim's host. It was in Serid that they had met, after all, and some part of her still thought of the nothlit as Illim's first impression.
-
"Fine. Just don't get too hammered." Zoshonel said. Was she this snippy at him before? He didn't remember. He seemed to remember she initiated the first conversation they had together. "I'd rather go for food than drink, myself." He replied to the other guy's offer. He went to the bar and payed the bartender for some cooked food. Was there anyone else he wanted to talk to? He remembered Keshin, but didn't feel like tracking her down yet. Corliss' scent was still fairly recent, but Myitt didn't smell of him just now.
-
"Alright," Chris says, nodding. "Be right back." He turns and makes his way to the bar, weaving around the various tables and chairs that are strewn about. When he reaches the countertop he waits patiently for the bartender to finish with Zoshonel before placing his own order.
"Pint of Moosehead, draft. Make sure the glass is clean," he says. Before the bartender can take out his trademark notebook, he adds, "and just start a tab. I'm sure I'll be back for another." He gives the baleful bartender a cheerful grin and waits for his order to be filled.
-
"So, buddy, are you one of those rebel controllers?" Zoshonel asked. "I like rebels better than Imperials. I met Myitt last time I was here, but that was a while ago. I'm not a Yeerk, though. The Yeerks can't invade our planet. We'd just wind up eating their shock troops, and they found out they can't dig any underground pool complexes anyway. We have some nasty pests underground."
"I think we can work with that. We like hiring mercenaries to get them out of the line of work they're in, but if you enjoy it we won't force it on you. Just say what kind of jobs you're best at, and I'll find something for you to do."
<Very well. Thank you.> Claxter said.
-
Serid relaxes his shoulders a fraction when the unknown Zoshonel departs from their table, although the way that Myitt inspects him does not do much to ease the Andalite.
"A year," he echoes Myitt's earlier estimation. "Fascinating; it has been less than a day for me. And how has he integrated himself? Well, I hope." He folds his hands on the table in a prim manner somewhat reminiscent of Tora's mannerisms. "How is he getting along with his new host? Derrel, was it?"
Illim watches Zorish a moment and then gives an exasperated sigh. "Do you need help?" he mutters, frowning sourly. "I don't have a clue what your ship looks like, granted, but I can help prevent you from falling flat on your face, at least." He shakes his head and grumbles, "And no, I've got no idea why I'm helping him, so don't even ask, Daniel."
-
Silver worked at her clothes, but the mending kit left a lot to be desired. She became frustrated and gave up. She gathered her things into her cloak and downed her drink before going to the bar slapping the kit down. She glared at the kit then told the bartender "I can't work with this crap! Another drink......" She decided to start a tab and while she waited for her drink she braided her hair. This revealed the tatoos down her back (pic in ooc). Finally the bartender brought her her drink.
-
Chris glances over at Zoshonel as he waits for his order to be filled. It takes him a minute to sort through the slew of information. "Woah there, dragon boy," he says. "Do you always talk so fast?"
He accepts a frothy glass of beer, wrapping one pale hand around it. "I'm Chris, and the slimy guy that likes to live in my head is Keslin. And who we serve isn't really any of your business. No offense, but I have no idea who you are or who you work for."
"I don't..." Zorish looks at the looming shipyard, befuddled. "I guess...I..." He sways dangerously, and leans heavily against the nearest ship, looking a little green.
-
"I'm just trying to be nice. I'm a Draconian, and I don't really work for anyone specifically. I just like to cruise around and find fun spots to be at. This place has an interesting variety of people, but I don't always get along with everyone."
-
"Clearly," Chris says, thinking back to Myitt's reaction at his arrival. "Well, Mr. Draconian, it was nice to meet you. I'll see you around, eh?"
He shoots the alien a small smile and turns to head back towards the booth.
-
Myitt gestures with her glass. "Derrel, heh," she laughs, shaking her head. "Almost forgot about him. No, Illim has moved on to a new host yet again, it was a sort of mutual decision. His name's Daniel. A former astronomy professor, and all around pretty dashing guy."
A grin spreads across her face and she sips her drink. "Only a day, versus a year. Man, this place constantly screws with my head."
-
Serid nods thoughtfully in response, wanting to ask more questions about what Illim is doing and if he is finding the rebellion more useful to his purposes, but is not sure it is appropriate. He finally selects this nonspecific inquiry: "Has he found his place there, then?"
Illim sighs, watching Zorish with some level of exasperation. "Well," he sighs, "you have a comm on you or something that might point to where you left your ship? I don't really fancy spending all night out here helping you, Sub-Visser. I owe you exactly squat."
-
"Later." He said. He finished his meal, and turned to face the crowd. Unfamiliar faces all around. One Human with animal parts caught his eye. that was a strange sight, to be sure. He had a sword too, which was interesting. Zoshonel wondered if he should start making new friends, or just hop up into the rafters to survey the crowd. His instincts always gave him a preference for higher places, though he wasn't prone to attacking people randomly.
-
Myitt nods. "Yeah," she says with a quirk of her mouth, "I'd say he has. He's had a few setbacks, but he's helped us immensely too, and I think he's really an asset to the rebellion." She shrugs, and the smirk returns. "We're um...sort of...together. You know. In a relationship. So...I'm a little biased."
She grins into her drink. "Anyway, if you want to talk to him he's right outside, assuming he doesn't get himself killed by a drunk, vindictive Sub-Visser."
-
Julian watched Silver walk back in and sit down. Then he realized that Citrus was waiting for him to say something.
"Sorry! That young woman over there is sort of my goddaughter. Haven't seen her since she was a baby. Her dad is Morgan."
-
Bivsitz leaves the bar and paces around the counter, glancing at the piano. Only from the side can the Sheyran see that it is, in fact, solid wood all the way down to the ground. Raising one limb to indicate it, Bivsitz asks, "What is that object?"
-
Silver was given her drink and she downed it. The bartender also gave her a small mahogany box. She opened it and inside was a better sewing kit. She dared anyone to say something about her "swimsuit" anyone at all until she noticed Julian was watching her. The last thing she wanted was a lecture of proper clothing. She gave a little wave and took the box with a thank you to the bartender. She looked around and decided that there wasnowhere she wanted to sit and she didnt want to go back outside so she grabbed her cloak which held her clothes and took a deep breath and sighed happily when wind swirled around her and lifted her up into the rafters where she sat and tried to fix her clothes.
-
Garreth nodded upward in understanding, "My apologies, I misunderstood the intent of your statement. Though you cannot deny your apparent inability to deal with your strong emotions in this matter. I feel them constantly boiling to the surface within you; and you seem to merely suppress them. Placing a cap on a constant building pressure can only result in an explosion. The way to stop such an occurrence is to properly vent that emotion so it is displaced naturally."
Parker greeted Claxter, Mar, and Zoshonel when they boarded the ship. He smiled at Zoshonel's reappearance and nodded toward his mention of his practice with a rifle. When he left, Parker felt obliged to stay and look after Ossanlin. Sure there was another Andalite present; however Parker still felt his presence was needed. He listened to Mar's mention of payment by Ossanlin after the fact and became slightly put off. Certainly it wasn't his place to say anything, as it didn't involve him. He was merely there to ensure no harm came to Ossanlin.
-
Serid pauses in mid-nod, caught off-guard by Myitt's news regarding her and Illim's relationship. His dark eyes search her expression for indication of a joke, but he can never tell with humans or human Controllers. Finally he folds his hands on the tabletop and nods. "Very well. If he has found a way of putting his skills to use for the war effort, and if he is happy, then I am glad for him." He looks down at his hands, picking at his thumbnail. "It is remarkable how much can change in a year. I did not think you much liked him upon first meeting him."
-
"Alright then," Chris says, plopping his drink down on the table and sliding into the empty side of the booth. "What's the gossip?" He grins at Myitt, "So who is this guy, eh?"
Zorish stares at Illim for a long moment, having trouble comprehending his words. Finally he waves at the rebel Yeerk dismissively. "S'ok..." he mumbles. "I'll do it...myself..."
He staggers off into the shipyard, not bothering to look back.
-
"Yeah, I don't like most people upon first meeting them," Myitt says with a cheerful grin.
She looks up at Chris. "Hey, cheers," she says, clinking her glass against his and jerking a thumb at Serid. "My pal here's an Andalite nothlit, and Illim's former host, to boot."
-
Julian glanced out of the corner of his eye and noticed Silver had taken to the rafters to finish whatever it was she was doing. He decided to let it go, if she didn't want to talk that was her business. But he did hope that they would get a chance to chat sometime, then he could show her he wouldn't try to be some overbearing surrogate parent, that wasn't his style.
"Well," Julian commented. "This place seems pretty slow at the moment."
-
Zoshonel saw someone go up to the rafters for some alone time. Or more like, she somehow manipulated the air and levitated up. He didn't want to jump up with her when she wanted to be alone, so he went over to talk to the swordsman. "Hey there. Name's Zoshonel. I noticed you have a sword, and was wondering if you were competent with it. I like weapons myself." he said after walking over.
-
Serid's expression briefly darkens at Myitt so casually reveals information about him, but he gives a Keslin a polite enough nod as he reasons, I suppose it is only equitable that he knows about me.
"How are you acquainted with Myitt?" he asks.
Illim raises his eyebrows, watching Zorish, and then he sighs. "Alright, fine," he shrugs, turning around and heading towards the Bar, hands stuffed in his pockets. He pushes the door open and spots Myitt and Keslin immediately, blinking in surprise when he sees Serid.
-
"Oh, Myitt and I go way back, don't we?" Chris says, grinning at Myitt. "Her brother's host is my little cousin, if you can keep that straight." He takes a sip of beer, peering at Serid above the glass. "So, Illim had an Andalite host, eh? That's...interesting."
Zorish continues his halfhearted stagger through the shipyard, trying to find his way back to his own ship.
<<Why won't your vision work correctly?>> he gripes, trying to make everything stop spinning.
<<I don't...I dunno. Just...I wanna lie down...>> Tamora responds hazily.
<<Yeah...>> Zorish stumbles into the hull of a burnt out Skrit Na freighter, sliding down it and to the ground. <<That's a good idea.>> He has a vague notion that it would probably be a good idea to seek shelter, but the cool dirt and gravel feels good against Tamora's cheek and everything is spinning so violently that the only thing he can manage to do is groan lightly and close his eyes.
-
Julian turned as Zoshonel walked over and asked about his sword. He nodded in response.
"Where I come from I'm the reigning tournament champion. So I'd say I am. Anything you want to know?"
After a moment Julian motioned to a seat. "Where are my manners. Care to sit?"
-
"I'm always interested in combat. Personally I prefer short melee weapons. These gauntlets I wear are used for grappling and defense, and the rifle is kind of a new thing for me. I do a lot of competing, and like to talk about anything related to it." Zoshonel said as he sat down.
"This particular bar isn't inclined to break out into brawls from my knowledge, but it gets some interesting patrons. You been here before?"
-
Parker peered out of Ossanlin's ship and noticed one of the patrons stumbling drunkenly around the lot. Eventually she passed out next to a ship. The ship was obviously destroyed, so there was no way it was her ship. Parker gave a slight bow to Mar and Claxter saying, "Excuse me, someone seems in need of attention."
He exited the ship and made his way to the woman; she looked shockingly like Terenia. Though her garb was completely different. He remembered she spoke of a twin sister of whom she acquired her morph. This must be that sister. Parker kneeled down and placed a hand on her shoulder, asking, "Miss? Miss, are you alright?"
-
Silver noticed someone watch her and she watched him as he approached Julian. She found that this kit worked much better than the first. She finished mending get clothes and simply stepped off the rafters and landed on her feet. She returned the kit with a thank you and was now dressed. She walked over to Julian's side. They were talking about weapons. "I myself prefer the more unpredictable ones. Hope I'm not interrupting...." She said and offered a smile.
-
"Not at all. Those that can master weapons that are hardest to master can't be said to be lazy. I'm Zoshonel, in case you missed it. May I asked how you worked the invisible elevator there?" He meant the last part as a joke, as he was sure there wasn't an invisible elevator, but he didn't really know what else to call what she did.
-
"Mmm?" Zorish grunts, cracking Tamora's eyes open to see who is disturbing their impromptu nap. Not recognizing the man in the strange garb he grunts again and waves one hand feebly.
"'m fine," he slurs. "Jus' letting her rest for...for a few minutes."
-
She smiled, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "I'm Artemis. Friends call me Silver. And that was just a use of winds. I can manipulate elements." She told him and held a hand out near him, her eyes changed bright silver and a soft breeze swirled close.
-
Zoshonel shook her hand. "Oh. You are in tune with the spirits. I've never met anyone like that, and just thought it was stories. It's nice to meet you Silver. How are you?"
-
"I'm fine. I came over to check on my Godfather." She said and smiles at Julian. "i overheard your conversation over weapons. You a specialist?"she asked him.
-
"Not a specialist exactly. I prefer my gauntlets, but I am trained with short swords, hand axes, and recently with this rifle. I guess I'm more focused on light melee weapons than anything else, and primarily rely on my fire breath for ranged attacks. I can torch someone at a good twenty yards away."
-
Silver pulled a small pieceof stock and with a flick it extended into an ornate battle staff. "Like I said, I prefer unpredictable ones. I've had many laugh at me when I go into a fight battling a blade with wood. But its no ordinary staff....." She said with a smile and a wink.
-
Julian turned as Zoshonel walked over and asked about his sword. He nodded in response.
"Where I come from I'm the reigning tournament champion. So I'd say I am. Anything you want to know?"
After a moment Julian motioned to a seat. "Where are my manners. Care to sit?"
Citrus was about to say something when someone came over and talked to Julian. Julian asked him if he wanted to sit. Citrus pulled a chair out. "Yeah, want to sit with us?" She asked
-
Parker nodded his head. She referred to herself as though she were a separate person. This must mean she had a Yeerk inhabiting her mind. He replied, "Your current placement leaves you quite vulnerable in such an unpredictable establishment. If you would like, I can help you to your ship. Should another firefight break out, you would undoubtedly be in danger."
-
"Can do a lot with a sword if you get the right training. When my father was young he decided to try and bring back some of the old sports like sword tournaments. Surprisingly, they caught on and they've got their own league and everything. I started young and now I travel around for competitions."
Julian motioned to the bartender for another round.
-
"I always liked joining tournaments, though I don't always win. The females love a champion." He said. "Thanks for the welcome, bud." He said to Citrus. "There are a few people here that were here last time I came, but one of them seems to have forgotten me and isn't eager to get reacquainted."
-
Citrus wondered who he was talking about. Julian? Her? Someone else? She decided to let it drop. "Uh...cool...?" She said uncertainly. "And hi, I'm Citrus. I'm sorta new here. So what's your name? Do you want to sit?" She asked again, motioning to the chair.
-
Silver smiled at Citrus. "How do you like the bar so far?" she asked hwr. she ested hwr hip against a chair and leaned on her staff.
-
"It's Zoshonel." he said, sitting down. "I hope you enjoy yourself here. So Julian, is that a special sword or just a nice looking one? By special i mean something like handed down through generations or made of a rare metal. Something like that. I can't say these gauntlets are too special. I won them as a prize, so they're sentimental to me."
-
"It's a competition sword. Special to me cuz it was handmade by my dad. He also opened his own forge. Was damn good at what he did. Would you like to check it out closer?"
Julian looked over at Silver. "How you been holdin up? That whole mess didn't seem to treat your family too well. Fellow like Morgan deserved better then that."
-
"That would be great. We could even go outside and spar if you're up to it." He didn't ask what happened to silver, as it wasn't really his business.
-
"Yeah," Myitt says guardedly. "Yeah, Chris and Keslin and I go way back. They're good friends."
She buries herself in her drink and shrugs, feigning indifference.
-
"i think its cool. theres cool people here." Citrus said to Silver. She was also wondering what Jullian was talking about, but decided not to ask.
-
"I am a rare exception to the norm," Serid acknowledges Chris's comment with a nod.
He refrains from saying more, however, as he notices another human approaching their booth--this one a rather short adult male wearing a grin and holding a pint of dark beer.
Illim stops at Myitt and Keslin's table, setting down his glass. "Hello again, friends," he nods to his fellow rebels and then sticks his hand out to Serid. "I didn't expect to see you here. It's me, Serid. Illim. And this is Daniel."
The Andalite watches, puzzled a moment, and then gives a small, polite smile and returns the handshake. "It is good to encounter you again, Illim."
-
Bivsitz paces over to the piano and stretches out one leg, tapping the bottom of it. Nothing happens but the expected light tunk noise.
Very cautiously, the Sheyran reaches the same limb towards the pedals, and presses down on the rightmost pedal. Again, no effect. Bivsitz continues to pump it up and down.
-
In response to Zoshenel, Julian said, "Sure thing! It'll be good to stay in practice."
Julian took a moment to look around the bar and shook his head. "Been in a lot of places before. Can't say I've been anywhere quite like this. It's different, I like it. Little quiet though. If that lug Morgan were here, he'd owe me an arm wrestling rematch."
-
"Yeah, we were," Chris says in reference to he and Myitt being acquainted, smirking. He is prevented from saying anything further by Keslin, who quickly shunts Chris into the back of his mind.
<<What?>> Chris complains, <<I wasn't going to say anything that bad!>>
<<Liar,>> Keslin says, tightening his hand around the beer Chris ordered to hide its shaking. He fixes a smile on his host's face, ignoring the way his ears are turning red.
"Well it's a pleasure to meet you, Serid," he chokes out, hoping that the transition between host and Yeerk isn't as obvious as it seems to him. He looks up at Illim's arrival, relieved for the distraction.
"My ship?" Zorish murmurs, confused for a moment. Focus, you dapsen, he orders himself. "Oh...yeah. Yes. I think that...that would..." He grunts and pulls Tamora's body into a sitting position, blinking blearily at Parker. "Who are you?"
-
Parker replied, "My name is Parker-821. I am a SPARTAN, though I don't expect you to know what that is. I come from a different universe than yours. I do believe we should move you out of the open. If you are to pass out, it would be wiser to do so in your own ship."
-
"I guess you could say I am used to the drama......but to find out that it was all a lie.....and in a way wasn't a lie.....I don't even know what my true form is anymore.....I took so many growing up. Father took it pretty hard...I guess I could have gone with them....but I barely remember that world." she said and shrugged. "I spent my life traveling and fighting. Kind of like my father did....I guess." she said and then smiled slightly.
-
"Well," Julian said, "hopefully whatever Morgan and Gaz went to check out will settle things. There's a bit of prejudice towards us Myths, some folks take it to an extreme."
Julian leaned back in his chair and sighed. He wasn't quite used to so much quiet. He didn't mind a bit of calm now and then, but he was starting to get restless.
-
"Isn't this a nice little reunion?" Myitt asks with a snort, gesturing across the booth to the open space next to Chris. "Since you have a drink, dear, why don't you join us?"
Her gaze wanders toward the door again. "I take it our Sub-Visser friend won't be accompanying us," she mutters dryly.
-
"Well let's go, then. It will be fun. Silver, you have my condolences for your hardships. Life isn't always easy and filled with happiness." Zoshonel said. he started walking towards the door.
-
Citrus was slightly confused by that. "Uh...cool...?" She said awkwardly. Then she finally got it. "Oh, i see. So you can morph? Or something?" She wasn't sure if this was the right thing to say, but it was all she could think of.
-
Silver turned to Citrus and offered a smile. "Kind of, yes. I can change my image, but only into those close to my original. Like I can get taller, shorter, kinnier, fatter, And change any color on me to any under the rainbow.......excep t for my markings. They will always appear......which anyone who is after me that sees the markings will be able to find me easily...." she said looking at the markings down her arm and around her wrist.
-
Keshin grins, putting the vial down on a table. "Now that might be a deal we can make, good sir. We're bounty hunters, really---our job is to get rid of problems. Well, problems when they're people. The old term for us is turelek.We live in a world in which Yeerk Vissers are constantly jockeying for power. It's a living."
<That ain' the only reason, Kess. You know I like to get inna good row now and then.>
<Yeah, but do we really want to tell the nice man from the future that?>
<I didn' wanna deal with 'im in the first place.>
<He has medicine. We're dealing with him.>
********************************************************************
Mar nods and closes his eyes, the lines through his strange gauntlet arm lighting up an eerie purple color. He strokes his hand along Ossanlin's chest, attempting to get a feel for where the connection has become too close. He is not sure doing this is wise: the other entity involved has poor experiences with Mar's kind. Yet still he must establish contact with the true owner of the body. If he does not, he gains nothing for all of his efforts.
<Ossanlin. War-Prince Ossanlin. This is Zuhnto. The Ellimist---I am not His enemy. We are of similar blood but not kin. I want to bring you back to yourself. Is this clear?>
-
Salem frowned at Simon. Was this legitimate? He was playing the part well, if nothing else. Salem was eager to get off this ship, but if Simon was the one suggesting it, he was wary of the idea.
"Sure," he nodded. "Let's head back to the bar to talk." The beeping in his head was steady... and too close for comfort. He shrugged, "Care to lead the way?"
Al laughed, "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks for your concern. Tough to injure what isn't really there." He pulled his hand away from his forehead, revealing that the cut was gone again. He stood up and brushed himself off. "Cringe-worthy? I'll have you know that about a century ago on Mauselea, this would have been considered the height of fashion!" he said, feigning haughty indignance.
"So," he said, holding out a hand to help her up, "how're you liking this little place so far?"
-
As Jocun entered the bridge to leave the ship, the computer screen flashed a message. Some unknown had been standing just outside the ship since soon after they had entered, but hadn't attempted to enter the ship yet. Jocun wasn't sure what that was about. Had one of Salem's allies followed them to assure their safety? Salem himself had seemed a bit nervous, so it was actually hard to tell. Suddenly he wasn't sure about being between Salem and someone else, whether it was a friend or enemy of him. He took a dracon out of a shelf and walked onto the ramp.
"Alright." He said loudly. "I don't know who you are, but whatever you're using to hide won't help much when you're standing right next to a state of the art vessel. i'm going to give you the option of either revealing yourself and stating your purpose, or leaving quietly. You have five seconds to do either before the ship initiates Class A security protocol."
-
"Sure, I'll make myself cozy," Illim nods, releasing Serid's hand as he slides into the booth beside Chris. He turns his eyes on Myitt as he answers her question. "Nah, he seemed pretty intent on heading back to his ship, so I left him staggering off, presumably in at least its general direction. A pretty pitiful sight," he smirks.
Slumping a little in his seat, he takes a slow drink from his slightly smudged pint glass. "So, Serid, how's life going with the Andalites?"
The nothlit's stoic expression never falters as he responds, "I have yet to leave this establishment. Only a few hours have passed for me; our timelines appear to have diverged."
It is now painfully obvious what a bad fit Illim and Serid had been for each other in many ways: Illim's slouch looks almost comically exaggerated next to Serid's perfect rigid posture, and the Yeerk's lazy language would entirely mar Serid's entirely perfect speech patterns.
-
By the lake there was a large flat rock upon which two beings were sleeping, holding each other close. One of the beings, a blue skinned humanoid, awoke to see his love lying beside him, facing him. This being is called Lucan Bristow and he is a Reln, a species from the planet 'Vnehka'.
They are able to live on land or underwater because they possess lungs and gills. The most striking feature of the Reln is multiple spots all over their face and on their fingertips. These spots are a uniform color, but change colors at random intervals. The meaning of this is known by only Relnians and the beautiful female being that sleeps beside him. He reaches up and carefully caresses the side of her face. His skin is very cool to the touch and his spots are a dull pink as he gazes at her. "Jade, my love? It is time to wake."
-
Jade stirred softly, her Cobalt blue eyes slowly opening to gaze at her love beside her. Her soft rose colored lips softened into a smile at the sight of him. Her long Chocolate brown curls were splayed around her body on the rock like a dark halo, and trailed over the rock to softly kiss the ground. When she stands the curls would reach her ankles. "I guess we dozed off, did we not?" she asked him in that silvery bell voice of hers.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin closes his eyes and rears back slightly at Mar's touch. Mar was a friend, wasn't he? Or at least a sort of kindred spirit in a way. Why did he feel such revulsion? He had drawn powerfully on Mar's own energy to defeat that strange, inhuman human. It was coming back to him now. Yes, of course he was a friend. Those feelings, they did not belong to him. They weren't him. It seems so much clearer.
Ossanlin tries to formulate thought-speech but still fails. He attempts to lift an arm, nod his head, any movement at all that might convey communication, but fails, as if his brain is not currently connected to his body. This is quite an odd experience, not wholly unlike that which an involuntary host experienced under Yeerk dominion. Except the force that was sharing his body was not malevolent, merely...potent. He tries to assume control, to push the other invading force from his body but barely gets anywhere with the effort. <I....I...am....> It should not be so hard to formulate thought-speech...
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _
~Rathien~
Rathien listens as best he can...something about medicine, and this Yeerk was apparently from some sort of future, as odd as that seems. Perhaps he was merely insane, but Tobias believed him, either that or was doing a great job of acting. Of course, the very existence of Tobias pokes at the multiverse theory. Supposedly his ship had the ability to transcend to other universes, and Rathien's own conversations with Thienal support that claim.
Shortly thereafter they discuss leaving and the strange controller claiming to be from a future existence descends, Dracon in hand.
Rathien sneers as the controller speaks. Rathien had never experienced any ship other than that of Tobias that was able to read through his camouflage. Anger bubbles up through his usual calm. This being might be bluffing, then again his ship could apparently detect Rathien's presence. He pulls his Entroper free of its holster, holding it at his side. His finger itches to see this controller that dared to order him around ripped molecule from molecule. He bares his fangs, torn with indecision. He wanted to kill this one entirely too much, he felt wrong, and was audacious to boot...but killing him would warn Tobias, not to mention the mess.
Instead Rathien leaps into the air, landing on top of the future controller's craft. He levels his Entroper at what he believes to be the ****pit and fires, a bolt of destabilizing energy lancing toward the craft at point-blank range. Even as he fires the weapon, he leaps with impressive speed away from the craft toward the rest of the ship parking lot, landing on top of a decommissioned Bug-fighter before leaping again to a craft of unknown design and origin, each bound carrying him several yards.
Immediately he feels some chagrin as he turns to watch the results of his weapon discharge. Striking in anger often led to a poor outcome, but then he hadn't actually fired at anyone in particular, merely at a piece of machinery. Perhaps it would at least inconvenience the annoying controller.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _
~Raile~
Raile remains silent for a long time, thinking about what the other Jedi has said. It was probably true, that had been his own Master's way, but...
"What then if...embracing...th ose feelings turns me?" His voice is soft, almost a whisper, but he is afraid that doing as the other Jedi suggests would do just that.
-
"Yes we did, but I am glad to wake to the vision that lays before me." Lucan continued to caress the side of Jade's face as he gazed at her, completly oblivious to the outside world. "Jade, you have accepted the proposal of the Nuca flower. Do your people have a custom for marriage?"
-
The ship reported damage that wasn't crippling, and that the creature had fled. "I take it he was none too happy at being found out. I don't like the idea of a hostile creature that can hide in plain site, but I don't want to hide in my ship either." Jocun said. He decided he'd definitely keep the dracon, but also wondered if he should have some armor. Or would that just be telling the creature he was afraid. He stepped off the ramp, looking around for any trace of it. "The ship will repair itsself over time."
-
Garreth responds, "The Sith draw upon their anger and hatred constantly for power. They revel in it, they keep those feelings stored. Much like you are doing now. You believe you are holding the emotions back so they do not surface; however in a battle situation you will not have the luxury of self-reflection. Your emotions will escape. I'm not suggesting you use your emotions, or revel in them; merely that you embrace that you feel them so that you may exercise them. Move past the emotions you store and gain an understanding known only by those with a clear mind. Only then will you find peace. Even if you strike down the Empire and the Sith in control, you will not find peace for the hurt and hatred is still within you. It is only when you free yourself from those emotions that you find that peace. Then, with a clear mind and a calm heart will you be able to see the correct path for yourself."
The time this Jedi has taken to reflect on his words has given Garreth some hope that he may actually be reaching this troubled soul. That he will be able to help quiet his mind and return him to the Light. Ironically, saying these things to help this wayward Jedi, and drawing upon the teachings taught to him, have made Garreth reflect on his own situation. The war battling on in his Timeline, and his own beliefs about the Jedi's role in it. However it may already be too late for Garreth to stop the Jedi involvement. His friends have been captured, and the Jedi now have no choice but to enter the war.
-
Keslin raises his light eyebrows, taking a sip of beer as he looks between Illim and Serid. "Funny," he says mildly, "I find it difficult to picture the two of you together." He peers at Illim, "Is Daniel actually a much more refined gentleman than you make him appear to be?"
"Mmph," Zorish grunts, using both hands to push himself to his feet. He stands there, swaying in place ever so slightly. "Very well," he mutters. "Take me....take me to my ship, then, Parker 8-2-1. That is an odd name for a Yeerk." In his delerium he failed to connect the numbered designation with the fact that the stranger said he was from a different universe. "You aren't another one of those...those rebel fools, are you?"
-
Parker shakes his head, it's clear that this woman's head isn't clear. He can clear the misconceptions after she sobers up. He walks to her side and places his arm behind her back. He asks, "Can you walk; or would it be easier for me to carry you?"
-
Myitt's gaze flickers from Serid to Illim.
A slow smile creeps across her face as she watches Illim. "So," she says lazily, swirling her drink in its glass. "I told Serid about our uh, you know." She takes a swig. "Relationship. Thing. You think he's jealous?"
Now her grin is positively impish.
-
Julian's head jerked as Zoshonel immediately headed for the door for their friendly competition. "Moves fast, doesn't he? Looks like I'm stepping outside for a little sword play, if you ladies are interested in being an audience."
Julian took off the jacket he had been wearing over his usual sleeveless tunic that showed his athletic build. This was definitely someone who competed for a living. With his sword strapped to his back, Julian went to follow Zoshonel outside.
-
Serid, taking the bait without even realizing it, straightens his back even further, stating in an affronted tone, "It could not be further from my--"
But Illim cuts him off with a grin, his gaze on Keslin and Chris. "First of all, Daniel is more refined than I am, certainly, and he complains that I'm gonna end up giving him scoliosis one of these days.
"Second of all," the Yeerk adds, turning his head to look at Myitt, his smirk widening, "I think he'd have needed significantly more warming up to the idea than even you did, Myitt."
-
"What, you mean that Myitt needed to warm up to the idea of being in a relationship with you?" Chris asks, the transition between his control and Keslin's nearly seamless, despite the fact that Chris uses a much more casual tone, and is much more prone to poking fun at the couple. He grins at Myitt. "I would've thought that she'd jump right on board with a dapper gentleman such as yourself, eh?"
Zorish, despite his host's drunken state, manages to look affronted. "I am a Sub-Visser of the Yeerk Empire," he slurs, almost losing his balance. "Of course I can walk." He staggers forward a few steps, then looks around, confused. "Where are we?"
-
zoshonel streatched himself out, trying to limber up. He was an adult, but still had tendencies of a young warrior. His broad wings were an imposing sight to some when fully outstretched. He had stopped in an open, somewhat barren patch of ground. His rifle remained on his back, since he figured this would be a melee fight. "Shall we make any stake0s, or set any ground rules?"
-
Parker nodded in acceptance and stayed near, behind her, continuing to support her. "We are in the front parking lot of the bar. Was your ship left or right after exiting from the bar?"
-
Silver smiled and looked to Citrus. "Lets go, I have never seen my Godfather in action. This should be fun." she said and picked up her cloak and headed after them to stand outside and watch.
Jade smiled and sat up, her hair falling over and around her shoulders gracefully. She took his hand and asked something in her language though the way her musical voice asked it was of course asking if he accepted her as his wife.
-
Myitt barks a laugh. "When I met Illim, I thought he was a suicidal idiot. Not even worth saving because he'd created his own mess and wanted to charm his way into ours."
She pauses, considering. "I guess the charm really did become infectious, though, huh?" she murmurs, giving Illim a wry grin.
Sipping her drink, she nods at Chris and adds, "This isn't making Kes uncomfortable, is it?" Her bland tone indicates that if she's aware that that might be obvious, she nevertheless doesn't care.
-
Citrus got up and went after Silver. Her godfather? Silver has a god father? I missed something she said? Citrus thought. She let it go.
-
Though Lucan did not understand what she was saying, he understood what she was asking. "Jade, I accept you as my wife, now and forever." Lucan sat up and leaned forward and kissed her with all of the love and passion he possessed for this beautiful creature.
-
Silver looked over at Citrus and seen her confused look. "Are you all right, Citrus?" she asked her.
___________________ _______________
Jade kissed him back deeply. When she gently pulled back she said something in her language and then leaned up and kissed him on his forhead just above the center between his eyes. Magick transferred to his skin. When she pulled back he would have felt a tingle and warmth. Where she kissed him was one of their spell runes. They were now one.
-
"Uh...yeah...?" Citrus asked. "I just sorta..." She wondered if she should tell Silver. She didn't want to offend her. "I didn't know you had a godfather. No offence. I think i just forgot when you mentioned it. Sorry. I'm really bad at remembering things.
-
"oh no no its okay. I don't htink I ever atually brought it up. It wasn't until a while back I found that he was my godfather. See, if anything was to happen to my par-......to my father....then Julian is my guardian. Though I am an adult now, neither he nor my father until recently had seen me since I was just a baby..." she said gently.
-
After he stepped outside, Julian did some stretches to loosen up his arms and shoulders. After he finished, he noticed Citrus and Silver had come out as well. When it all boiled down, at heart Julian was a bit of a flirt. He could never resist a touch of the theatrical.
Julian walked over and gave a deep bow from the waist. "Miladies, so glad you could attend this little tournament. Would either of you lovely ladies be so kind as to grace this humble competitor with a token for luck?"
-
Zoshonel wasn't attracted to Humans, though competing in front of females always made it better. He thought perhaps one might wager on him. "Maybe the other can cheer for me as well. First one on their back loses?"
-
Zorish grunts. "This way," and makes his way to the left, pausing periodically at seemingly empty spaces of gravel to mutter at them in Yeerkish. "Dapsen cloaked ship," he laments, coming to a halt and doubling over, his hands on his knees as the world spins around him.
<<If you make this body retch, human, I swear->> Zorish hisses at an unresponsive Tamora. Groaning, he forces himself forward a few more paces.
"Well, he's still a suicidal idiot, from what I hear," Chris says, winking at Illim. He pauses, conferring with his suddenly quiet Yeerk.
"Yup," he confirms. "Kes is entirely uncomfortable and will likely remain out of this particular topic of conversation, lest he make my face resemble a tomato."
-
Parker walks with the inebriated woman, making sure she doesn't fall or waver. When he overhears her curse at her ship's cloak, he asks, "Would you be able to disable the cloak from here to better identify its position?"
-
Jocun noticed the Sub Visser stumbling around with a guy in full armor following him. At the risk of being jumped by the other guy, he decided to see if he could help. "I'm going to see if my fellow Imperial needs help." He said to Salem and Keshin, keeping his eyes open for any movement in the grass or sound of footsteps.
"Looks like someone has had a few too many drinks." He said as he approached. "If you have trouble locating your ship, you're free to rest in mine sub Visser. I know we aren't from the same Empire, but I do look out for my kind. It isn't really safe here, since there is a malicious person running around invisibly in the vicinity."
-
Parker noticed a blip on his motion tracker. He turned and saw a man approaching them. He took the hilt of his sword from his thigh, but did not activate the blade. The man would only recognize that he had removed a dull, warped piece of metal from his leg. The man spoke as though he knew the female; though he spoke of being from a different empire, so he could still be a threat.
Parker asked the woman while looking at the approaching male, "Do you know this man?"
-
Jocun saw the guy grab something that might be considered a weapon, though it wasn't very impressive looking, and realised this guy was seeing a stranger approach holding a dracon. He reholstered the weapon after taking one more look around. "Hi there. I'm Jocun." He said to the guy. "The Sub Visser knows me, but I'm not sure she likes me a whole lot. She's not eager to make friends."
-
Myitt cackles. "He's right, you know," she confides to Serid, setting her empty glass down in punctuation, "about all of the above."
She folds her hands in front of her face, leaning on her elbows. "So. I suppose it's pointless to ask how you've been in the last couple of hours," she continues, addressing the Andalite nothlit.
-
Parker replied only with, "Well I don't know you; and if she doesn't like you, I doubt she would welcome you. I'll await her decision. Please progress no further."
Parker lowered his left shoulder to allow his arm easier access to the shotgun strapped to his back, should he need it. The man did holster his weapon, but Parker wasn't taking any risks.
-
The man seemed genuinely concerned for the sub Visser, so Jocun thougth perhaps everything was being handled well enough without him. He waited the Imperial's reply, though he already figured what it may be.
-
Silver looked to Julian and couldn't help but giggle. "Julian you flirt." she smiled.
-
"Got me figured out already, huh?" Julian grinned. "Well, I suppose we should get at it."
Julian walked and stood a certain distance from Zoshenel, saluted his opponent and got into position.
"Whenever you're ready."
-
Zoshonel got into position. "Oh I'm ready. Draw your sword, because I'm coming." He crouched down, as a predator ready to pouncing, and rushed forward. Being low to the ground allowed him to move and react faster to what Julian might do.
-
Keshin frowns, watching as Jocun gets involved in some kind of altercation outside the ship. A person who's cloaked? Hidden somehow except from the ship's sensors? Keshin's eyes widen, realizing who Jocun must be after. <It's that guy. Rathien. The guy we're supposed to off. Salem said he'd be under a cloak.>
<Are you sure?>
<No. I have no idea. But it's worth following him.>
Keshin quickly darts off the ship and attempts to locate wherever the Yeerk had gone. They couldn't have gone far, and he did see a group of people fairly close by.
*****************************************************************************************************
Mar catches Ossanlin's bare minimum managed thoughts and attempts to encourage them. Mar wonders if he can do anything....else while the Andalite is this disoriented. <You are the Andalite War-Prince Ossanlin. The name I'm using at the Bar we are outside of is Mar. Call the place a microcosm of all the strange, wayward people in the multiverse. You are involved in a war between the Andalites and the Yeerks. You are my friend and are an honorable, noble sort. I believe that if I bring you back, you would owe me a great debt. Is all of that correct?>
That sounded about right, and it emphasized the "bond" between himself and the Andalite. That might help his case. He hopes his focus can draw Ossanlin out of where he is.
-
Jocun noticed Keshin leaving the ship, and waved to get her attention. He was a little torn between Zorish and Keshin, though Keshin had a better disposition at the very least. should he wait for zorish to blow him off, or was there a chance he'd actually take Jocun up on his offer to help?
-
Parker saw the male look back and call for back up. When he saw the woman he was calling for, he immediately recognized her as the woman who had assaulted Terenia. Parker quickly activated his blade with its familiar "KSSSHHH!" sounding and withdrew the shotgun from his shoulder. He stood completely between the woman who looked like Terenia and the two others. He aimed the shotgun toward Keshin and held his sword arm outward, blocking any paths past him.
Parker called out to the man, "You're allied with that bounty hunter? She tried to kill a friend of mine, and someone close to him as well. Either call her off, or leave now. I'll have no dealings with that bounty hunter, or her allies."
-
Julian saw Zoshnel duck down and rush forward. He jumped out of the way and held his sword, ready to parry any blows that came his way. If he could help it, he didn't want to reach out and strike first, it would leave him open.
While he awaited the next movie, Julian decided to engage in small talk. "So, ladies, not a bad day out. Weather usually like this around here?"
-
Jocun flinched when he saw the guy pull a gun out, and the metal he had earlier came to life.
<Was that some kind of a lightsaber. I knew we went to the past, but I didn't know it was that far.>
"Whoah, ok I'm leaving." Jocun said. Obviously this guy was serious. He went back to Keshin. "I think that guy doesn't like you due to one of your past jobs. I really don't have the firepower to get on his bad side short of my ship's main guns, so I say we keep our distance."
"Where are you going? I thought you wanted to play." Zoshonel said, teasingly. He circled, studying his opponent. He had taken a defensive stance, which may say something about his general fighting style. He made another rush, followed by quickly shifting to the side to try to catch Julien off guard and attack away from his sword arm.
-
As the man walked away, Parker extinguished his blade and replaced both the hilt and his shotgun to their respective placements. He turned back to the woman he was helping, "I apologize for that."
-
Illim laughs at Keslin and Chris. "You are ridiculous," he informs Keslin with a smirk, turning his attention back to Myitt, his smile growing more pleasant as he watches her.
"I suppose so," Serid nods to Myitt, his face having remained placid and seemingly disinterested--or clueless--during the conversation that has just occurred. "Tell me, have you had any particular successes? I am glad to see that you have survived another year, certainly."
-
Myitt's grin remains plastered on her face. "Yeah, we're pretty glad we're still alive, too," she says, looking down at her drink. "We've had a few successes, a few setbacks." Her smile fades slightly. "Lost a few good folks, gained a few good people we thought were lost forever."
She gives Chris and Keslin the briefest of looks before turning her attention back to her drink, taking a long swig.
"Serid, let me get you something," she continues, setting the glass down. "For me, it's been a while, and I'd like to do a favor for an old friend of Illim's." A hand reaches across the table and gently caresses Daniel's hand.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin breathes deeply but irregularly as if more than one command is being sent to his respiratory centers. He focuses, a sound, a thought, a feeling piercing the miasma of his brain. Yes...Mar...yes...y es this was him. He was himself. He focuses and redirects his energies in a more efficient manner, pushing at the thoughts invading his head, thoughts that were clearly beyond his own comprehension. They were not him, they were something else... they were NOT him. His mind slowly begins to clear as his focus centers more upon his true self. He continues to push at the foreign thoughts while figuratively snatching out for the shards of his splintered mind.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _______________
~Rathien~
Rathien calms himself again. Only fools allowed their anger to dictate their actions. Perhaps the small explosions in the ship's hull at least startled Tobias. He shakes his head, still perching on an old bug-fighter, and long-abandoned from its look, his camouflage still active.
He watches as two rather odd anthropomorphic beings exit the bar and begin to spar. The feel of the fight is not serious, perhaps nothing more than exercise. He watches another odd being in full-body armor escorting a female he'd laid eyes upon in the past, one of the regular bar denizens perhaps. He watches with curiosity as the man in armor ignites a blade made of energy...armor and advanced technology...intere sting. He continues watching the goings on while keeping an eye on the ramp of the Yeerk's ship, watching for Tobias. If he came out alone...well it might be enough distance to take a shot. Why would Destiny not say it was time?!
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _______________
~Raile~
Raile shudders as emotions break through the walls he has built yet again. This time he makes no effort to rebuild them. "They're evil, HE's evil...to kill and destroy so many for nothing but power! I hate him! I hate all of them!" Angry tears run down his face as his composure buckles completely. He manages to hold himself erect, but his feelings run rampant and the immediate vicinity around him vibrates with waves of the Force. He slaps his hand down on the bar counter and the surface, the wood...all of it cracks down to the floor as he balls his hand into a fist. His tumbler explodes out from his other hand at lightning speed, crashing against the back wall, shattering into hundreds if not thousands of slivers of glass and splattering priceless spirits across the shelves.
The BT merely glances over with an annoyed and somewhat patronizing look, not concerned in the slightest as the bar counter begins to heal itself even as Raile's body continues to emanate waves of Force energy. Slowly the vibrations calm and cease, but Raile's anger smolders in the back of his mind, the flames doused but not extinguished completely by sorrow. The loss of the entire Jedi order along with his former Master washing over him as his tears begin anew. He still holds himself erect, but he fears what would happen if he were faced with any of the Order's enemies at this moment.
-
Garreth saw the raw emotion Raile let out. It was comforting to see him start to let them out, if not yet to let them go. Garreth placed a hand on Raile’s shoulder. He exuded as much compassion and sympathy as he could. He looked at the damage caused and said, “That was a great start. We may want to move this outside to reduce casualties. I’m sorry that it hurts, that it brings these feelings to bear; but it is necessary to stay upon the path of the Jedi.”
-
Zorish squints at Jocun for a long time, trying to place him in his mind. He knows that the Controller is familiar, but he has also spoken with many people since arriving and can't remember exactly who Jocun is.
Then Parker pulls a weapon and Zorish stumbles backwards, grasping at his empty holster for a weapon. The motion knocks his drunk host back down on his butt again and he curses violently, sounding more like Terenia than ever before. "Just take me to my dapsen ship," he finally manages to get out.
Chris gives Myitt a small smile when she mentions gaining people. "Yeah, it's always good to gain a few pirates," he comments glibly, sipping at his beer.
-
Parker picks up the woman and helps support her while still allowing her to walk on her own feet, by holding her back. He asks again, "Is there any way to deactivate the cloak from your person?"
-
Ewa's eyes narrowed and her lips compressed as her patience and reason finally snapped. Abducted to this ridiculous place, no plot, people getting injured, bleeding, no one has any clue what's going on and NOW YOU HAVE THE GALL TO BREAK FOURTH WALL?
"The Mauseleans would all walk around in their own feces if you convinced one of them to do it," she snapped, her mouth twisting in disgust for Al's inappropriate behavior and the way she had just joined him. She shot to her feet, glaring, and closed the few feet of space in between them. "And that's not nearly as disgusting as you or everyone else in this butchered monstrosity," she hissed into his face. "It's sickening the way you all stumble around with your half-assed identities and your amateur bodies like you're trying. Well, TRYING WHAT? If all the rules are null and all the games are moot, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? What," she shoved her fingers that still showed a small trace of his blood up into his face as her voice dropped, "are you?"
-
Salem watched as Jocun descended the ramp and spoke aloud. From the way he spoke, his ship had detected Rathien, and correctly identified the Ildari as a being of some sort. With what little he knew of Rathien's cloak, that put the sensors on Jocun's ship at a higher level than any Yeerk sensors he knew of. Certainly, Rathien's personal camouflage was more effective than Salem's own jury-rigged equivalent.
Salem frowned, trying to figure out where this put him in this situation. Was this Jocun really just trying to boost relations with him? If so, the Yeerk had a lot to learn about tact. He seemed far too eager to trade... a fact that Salem would have to use to his advantage.
As Salem thought this over, a blast caused the ship to shudder. Salem instinctively dropped to a crouch and moved to partly conceal himself behind a bulkhead. His hand reached for his grav-pistol in his holster, but as he frowned at the doorway, he realized it wouldn't do much good to shoot at a target he couldn't see. And the beeping, indicative only of Rathien's proximity to Salem himself... it was rapidly decreasing in frequency.
Great. So now he'd have to take up guessing again exactly where the Ildari was. That had to have been an attempt by Rathien to smoke him out or try to invoke some sort of reaction. The hunter was very disciplined, and didn't take actions without a reason. So the question was... what would Rathien expect? And what, then, would be the best way to keep him off guard? Would he shoot now? Go for the kill he'd been avoiding?
Salem doubted it- the chance for collateral damage if Salem's explosives went off would likely stay Rathien's hand, at least for a while. Still, it was far from a sure thing.
What I wouldn't give for some camouflage, he thought. His, unfortunately, had been left aboard his ship. Have to deal with this little snake now.
First thing, of course, was to get near people. He'd be safer in a crowd. The only people around at the moment appeared to be Keshin, near him, and Jocun, Parker and the Sub-Visser some distance from the ship.
He watched as Keshin ran off the ship. <<Keep an eye out, try not to draw attention to yourself,>> he thought-spoke privately to her. From her perspective, she may have a better chance of spotting anything that happened. Though if Rathien did his job right. anything happening might be too late.
So... how to play this? Parker'd been alarmed by Keshin's presence... not sure what that was about. Still...
He stood up and, with a thought command, activated his boots, causing himself to hover a short distance above the floor. He then pushed off of the bulkhead and moved in a "roller skating" motion out the open door- he hoped he'd be able to exit at a greater speed than Rathien was anticipating, denying the hunter of any shots he might get while Salem was too far from other people.
As he skated towards Parker and Zorish, he attempted to look casual, while maintaining his speed. "Not necessary, Parker," he called, breaking into an easygoing glide over the rough ground. He skidded to a stop about ten feet from where the pair was, and cast a quick glance back towards Keshin and Jocun, trying to gauge their reactions. His senses were on alert, but his demeanor remained one of easygoing calm. This situation was growing on him.
"These people are friends and clients of mine, Parker," he said, turning back to the SPARTAN and waving a hand to indicate Jocun and Keshin. He smirked, "No need for hostilities. Cute sword, though," he said, nodding at the hilt. He nodded towards the Sub-Visser, "Zorish. Or... whoever you are this time around. Tamora, at least, still? Always a pleasure," he grinned and gave a slight bow.
Al blinked. "I..." he stared at Ewa again, trying to comprehend what it was she was saying to him. It wasn't often that the android was speechless- his friends would attest to that- but he seemed quite taken aback by Ewa's explosion. Finally he managed a smile. The blood on her finger... she must have been capable of determining something from blood, and had been expecting some sort of information. His blood, of course, was holographic, and would register nothing on any test.
"Android," he said, tapping the side of his head. "Or... well, AI currently inhabiting the body of an android." He briefly dropped his hologram. "See? No worries," he said with his grinning Chee mouth, before switching the hologram back on- though now wearing his tux once again rather than his godawful tracksuit- and smiling warmly at her. "Did we need to get you somewhere quiet to sit? Maybe some water?" He offered her an arm as he spoke gently, but not condescendingly- it seemed she was probably drunk or drugged, and if she was having a bad time, the only sure thing to do without further knowledge of what she'd been taking would be to sit her down and keep her calm for a bit.
-
Parker's motion detector picked up a fast signature flying in his direction. He redrew his shotgun and leveled it at the approaching man. It was the man he met earlier who wanted his identity kept a secret. 'To-Salem'. Parker could only guess what his real name was: Tony, Tobey, Torren. It didn't matter here. Salem was as good a name as any. He lowered the aim of his weapon, but kept it in hand. All this time he continued to escort the woman in the direction she indicated. Salem had called her Tamora, that must indeed be Terenia's sister. It didn't matter much, only now he had a name to call her rather than 'The female'.
Parker spoke out to Salem in response to his earlier speech, "I will have no dealings with that bounty hunter. I am helping this woman, Tamora, to her ship. If she wishes any of your company, she may request it. Until that time I would appreciate it if you allowed her to reach her ship and allow her rest without interruption. We may catch up afterward should you choose it." With that said, he re-holstered his shotgun and turned away from the threesome.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien watches the hatch closely as another controller exits. Perhaps this would be it...he draws his Entroper, leveling it at a spot several feet in front of the ramp. He crouches on the Bug-fighter, steadying his aim with the off-hand. He peers down his enhanced-vision sight when suddenly Salem emerges, but going faster than a dead run. His finger twitches but he doesn't pull. He curses to himself and tracks Salem with the weapon, but before he can fire cleanly, the annoying being is amongst others again. For a moment he's tempted to do it anyway. Only two others...perhaps the one in the full-body suit would even survive, but the other is certainly a controller. Perhaps someone of little to no importance, but there's no way to truly know. The last thing he wanted was one of his best sources of clientele turning on him.
He takes a deep breath before finally holstering his weapon. He grimaces but pulls four quite small, black, tranquil-toxin tipped stiletto darts. He'd tried this before and Tobias's own combat training had made the effort futile, but the situation had been different. A tranquilized body was not the same as a dead body, and it might give him the opportunity to carry Tobias off to some secluded portion of those woods to end him. Those around him currently did not appear to be any of his confidants, and his...android...thi ng...was inside the bar. He had to try.
Rathien front-flips off of the bug and hits the ground running at a spot behind Tobias. He snaps his wrist, the first dart lancing at Tobias's neck. Three more lightning-quick wrist-snaps send darts in the three likely directions of Tobias's dodge...behind, to the front between himself and those he was addressing, and toward the trader's waist in the event of a duck. He throws all four darts from a dead sprint that would carry Rathien past Salem several feet behind the trader, camouflage still active and only wavering slightly when each dart pierces its energy horizon.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Raile~
Raile doesn't make eye-contact with Garreth, remaining silent before speaking. "Why? What would be the purpose?" His words are quite flat, with little expression as he focuses on keeping pitiful sobs from disrupting his level voice.
-
Garreth replies with heart-felt belief, "To quiet your mind. To save yourself from descending into the darkness that is the Sith. So that you can carry on our teachings and survive. To honor the memory of all those that died by defying those that killed them and living on. By keeping the teachings of the Jedi alive, you keep your master's teachings alive, you keep him alive. Within yourself, and within your future padawans, he will live on."
Garreth stops a moment. He contemplates something a moment and takes his unlit lightsaber from his robe. He places it to his heart, and grabs Raile's hand, placing it on the hilt. "If you give up and give into the dark, then you extinguish everything I live for. Everything I have fought for, everthing I will fight for. If our order dies because you are unwilling to let your sorrow go, then you might as well kill me now. For you are my future. You are what I fight for; and if you are just going to allow yourself to become the man that killed your master and brothers, then there is no reason for me to continue. If my future is certainly lost, and you have given up. Then you might as well kill me now."
This was a big risk, a gamble. But Garreth was convinced that Raile didn't want to give up. He stared directly at Raile's eyes with complete conviction, showing he wasn't bluffing in the least.
Parker picked up another motion on his radar. This one running straight at Salem. He turned quickly and yelled, "Salem, behind you!"
-
~Raile~
Raile watches Garreth's hands through leaden eyes, and does not object when the other Jedi makes contact. He does go as far as furrowing his brows as he watches the other place his saber against his own chest and then places Raile's non-resistant hand onto it.
Garreth's next words make Raile recoil and draw back his hand as if burnt by the hilt's mostly-metallic casing, gasping. Killing the one link he still had to his own reality, the one kindred he'd seen since...since Order 66? Killing something that possessed as serene and gentle a spirit as Raile currently felt emanating from the other? He never could.
"I could not...would not...why would you say such a thing?!" He thinks about schooling his emotions again but feels like perhaps he mightn't need to. "Even if you are from a...different time...I could not..." He falls silent, his feelings becoming muddled and confused more than anything. It is a moment before he speaks again. "The Sith and their ilk are the only ones..." The only ones who what...would taste his lightsaber? Perhaps. Or perhaps they were the only ones who would do as Garreth had just suggested. "...I will not harm you...only the Sith." But even that is not right...only half-hearted really as Raile reflects. Many Sith after all were once Jedi, but he could not make himself feel compassion toward them, such forced feelings would only be a mockery of reality.
Something tugs at the back of Raile's mind... his Padawans? Raile had never even considered taking on his own student. He was still a student in his own mind...with so much to learn. How could he possible endeavor to teach another when he knew less than enough himself? Moreover he had been concerned only with trying to make contact with any other survivors, and then upon revenge...he realized that in his head he had all but consigned the Jedi to death himself, it seemed so. But what Garreth had said made sense as well...perhaps...pe rhaps it could be rebuilt. Perhaps there was still a gasp of life for the Order. Raile clings to the new-found thread of hope as if it sustains his very existence. He feels that, in many ways, it does.
-
Garreth was relieved, though not surprised when Raile withdrew his hand. He answered, "If you don't let your emotions go, if you don't follow the teachings of the Jedi, you are helping to kill the Jedi. By giving in to your hatred of your enemies and holding onto your anger, you abandon the Jedi way. You abandon everything your master taught you. You disgrace him, for vengeance. For more killing, blind, hate-filled killing." He puts his lightsaber away and bows his head shaking, defeated. He turns to leave saying, "It is clear you will listen to no one. I fear you are already gone from us. Lost, only within yourself and your sorrow." Garreth then walked around the bar and exited out of the back door.
He found a clearing where there were signs of a great battle. He sat on the ground in the middle of the site and began to meditate. He could sense great darkness here. A place he could practice his cleansing technique. He concentrated and placed his hand together in front of his chest. A dim light began to emanate from him and pulsed outward, covering the battleground.
-
~Raile~
Raile recoils as if slapped physically. The harsh words are not as he expected. As the other Jedi leaves, anger replaces shock and he follows the other out to a place of long-past carnage. He walks up to Garreth as he sits and begins doing...something, a technique Raile himself is not familiar with, perhaps one lost to history.
"How dare you? How DARE you?! You who say you are from some other time, you who knows nothing of me or the sorrows of my time. How dare you say such things?! I did not feel the anger, nor the sadness, nor the hopelessness before. I controlled them, kept them dormant. Yes my control was not perfect, but it could have been with time."
He stares down at the other Jedi. "Then you tell me to feel them, to experience them. Your words so mimicked those of my old Master that I thought you to be as wise as he once was. So I followed your advice, and I felt, though I knew what waited, and feared what it might do. And just as I embrace your advice, you turn on me and tell me that I am lost?! Tell me, Knight Garreth...are you Sith in your time, or are the Jedi merely so callous and self-righteous as you? I thought I sensed caring and compassion within you, I felt...I felt my old Master in you. But it appears my senses are not so well-attuned, as my old Master would never have done what you have done. Tearing emotions raw and then abandoning the one you have left, injured and bleeding." Angry tears again grace Raile's eyes, but he doesn't even think of lashing out against the other.
"I had hoped you would be a friend, Garreth...I am Jedi, I will always be Jedi, and if I must rebuild the Order from the foundations I shall! But I had hoped to find a friend, someone to share the burden with, and to confide in. You gave me this hope...the hope that the Order might survive. That perhaps one day I might be able to train others. And then just after, you condemn me! Is it your goal to turn me Garreth...? Ripping me open and leaving me for the Darkness? It won't work. I will die before I embrace the Dark Side."
After Raile's speech ends...he continues to stare down at Garreth a few moments before turning his back. A strange calm wafts over him...something he cannot explain. He feels suddenly at peace, his warring emotions merely echoes. What was this? Was this Garreth's doing? He glances back at the seated Jedi.
-
Garreth listens intently, continuing to attempt to purify the darkness from the grounds. He feels it wash over Raile some, but concentrates on the grounds. When Raile finishes his sentence, Garreth smiles warmly. It had taken time, but as a trader had once told him, 'Sometimes the only way to close the deal is to show you can walk away.' He opens his eyes and discontinues his previous actions. He stands up and looks kindly into the other Jedi's eyes and replies, "I apologize for making you feel as though I was abandoning you. I apologize for being rude to you. There seemed no other way to get you to leave the bar and your realm of depression. No, I am not a Sith. Were I a Sith, I would not try to help you rid yourself of your anger and hate; but encourage you to contain it and draw from it. The pain and anger you felt inside the bar was only a small step towards truly exercising them. I had to get you out here so I could help you exercise them further. Out here, there is less chance of a bystander or innocent from accidentally being harmed."
Garreth places his hand upon Raile's shoulder once more and continues, "It warms my heart to hear you speak of more for your future than just revenge and violence. I would find myself lucky to be called your friend. You are making great strides. Even just now, you move closer to ridding yourself of your fear and hurt. If you would like, I can help you further."
-
Suddenly Jocun heard movement, and he heard Parker tell Salem to watch out. He was still at a distance, since he had been walking towards Salem, but he drew his dracon. Grass blades crushed under an invisible foot, and he tried to judge where the enemy would be, given the speed he was traveling. He took a few shots, hoping that even if he missed the enemy would be off center. As he shot, his body started changing. His limbs grew larger, and his skin hardened as he began morphing much faster than anyone from a hundred years in the past. What once took two to three minutes would take forty five seconds to one minute.
-
All around Zorish the noise and movement - some at seemingly impossible speeds - seems to be escalating. The alcohol in Tamora's system is still making it difficult for him to focus, but he has the sense at least to pull away from the armored man named Parker and maneuver herself into a more protected stance behind him and away from the possible enemies. He grasps again at his holster, but his Dracon is no more there now than it was moments before when Jocun first appeared.
"Dapsen," Zorish hisses. Things have begun to get far too complicated. He reaches into one of his holster's pockets and pulls out his comm link. Working the Imperial machine takes far more effort than it should, and his attention is drawn away from the flurry of activity as he glares at the familiar device, trying to get his fingers to pull up the holoscreen and uncloak his ship. It takes several tries, but finally a ship materializes about a hundred yards to the left. It is clearly an Imperial ship; the logo stamped in crimson along the black living metal hull.
-
Parker turned back to find Tamora and saw a ship appear in the distance. He asked her, "Is that your ship? Would you be opposed to me carrying you now?" He was hoping she would be willing to swallow her pride in favor of staying out of the firefight.
-
Salem grinned as Parker re-holstered his weapon. He was definitely a soldier- Salem would never be in danger unless he became a threat. Soldier-types always managed to amuse him. Disciplined and predictable.
"Sure, okay," he nodded. "Keshin and I'll just..." he cut off as the beeping, indicative of Rathien's proximity, began to increase in frequency. His hair stood on end- Rathien was making a move. Without being able to see him, though, Salem couldn't do anything. He turned his head, trying to get some idea of where the hunter might be.
Parker yelled that something was "behind him." Salem's first reaction, however, was surprise, rather than caution. He turned to look at Parker and ****ed his head curiously, if only briefly. The soldier appeared to be using combustion-based projectile weaponry- laughably outdated by any standards- but apparently he had some sort of sensor on his person capable of seeing through Rathien's cloak, at least partly. The gap between the two technologies was... ridiculous.
As it turned out, his poor decision to not immediately look behind him saved him. A dart grazed his tilted head, just underneath his left ear. Salem instinctively ducked and spun, but before he'd gotten far, a second dart embedded itself in his right shoulder blade. Salem managed to spin into a crouch and draw his weapon from its holster, leveled in the approximate direction from which the darts had come.
Time seemed to slow as adrenaline kicked in. There was no visible sign of Rathien, but the beeping in Salem's skull was rapidly increasing in frequency. He noted dully that Jocun had fired a few wild shots- the Yeerk seemed to be a bit of a loose cannon- and some part of him, in the back of his mind, took note of the fact that Jocun began morphing, and quickly. Might have to talk to him about that later.
Still too slow, though. All far too slow. Parker, Jocun, Keshin, Salem, all right here, and Rathien might still be fast enough to get away before any of them could touch him. The hunter was very good at his job, and merciless.
Salem elected not to snap the stabilizing blades of his grav-pistol into place. With them forward, the weapon fired a needle-thin, concentrated beam of antigravity, but with them back, laid along what would amount to being the "barrel," the weapon fired a spotty pulse of antigravity that affected a wide area a few meters in front of the weapon itself, pushing everything away. Salem didn't have the weapon set terribly high, and there wasn't time to change the setting, but the weak pulse he was sending out might be enough to at least throw Rathien off balance.
At the moment Salem judged that Rathien would be nearly on top of him, based on the beeping he was hearing, he pulled the trigger and let loose a pulse. As he did so, he dropped to the dirt, trying to ignore the fact that his right arm was already going numb.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien feels a small thrill as one of his darts takes Salem's shoulder...if it had not intersected any decent-sized blood-carrying vessels, the toxin would probably not be enough to contain the Trader's unfortunately outstanding health (by most standards). And those little nanites..they could clean things up even faster for him. The neck would've been much better.
His peripheral vision catches movement as the controller whose ship Rathien had fired upon levels a Dracon and fires, perhaps seeing the advancement of feet and dust in the gravel-grass mixture. He pivots, changing his angle, the new one carries him more in the direction of Salem as the old would've carried him past and several feet behind Salem on a tangent. AS he pivots he performs a series of acrobatic leaps, incorporating his hands and feet to avoid the somewhat wild shots of the controller. He had misjudged just how much Tobias had ingratiated even these few. The fact annoys him, but perhaps he could still make this pay off. He draws both of his fighting blades in hopes that he can perhaps disable Salem a bit further than the dart would, but just as he begins a whirling leap that would draw a long gash along Salem's weapon-hand, a blast of energy catches him and throws him back before the blade can make contact with flesh.
He flies back several feet before catching his feet in the gravel, transforming his backward falling motion into a controlled backward flip. He crouches, silent and unmoving, the dust kicked up from Salem's weapon discharge and the scuffle obscuring the crushed grass under his feet and the downturned palm still gripping the hilt of its fighting blade. He's barely winded as he waits. The armored one begins moving away and the area around Salem begins to clear. Rathien grins to himself, running his tongue over a fang in desire...if enough distance opened up...well any matter the Entroper touched at this range wouldn't be far from pure elements after. He waits, assessing the situation, poised like a large cat ready to pounce.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __________________
~Raile~
Raile stands in stunned silence as Garreth speaks. He was partially angry at the other for manipulating him so, and partly angry at himself for letting it work. He never claimed to be a Consular, he had always drifted toward the so-called Guardian-class of Jedi. Yes he had some training in negotiations and politics, but they were not his specialty, not by any means.
"I...I apologize...I spoke from pain and anger." Raile forces himself to meet Garreth's eyes, sensing the compassion there again. Here there was no war, no Sith, no darkness. Only himself, and a few random bar patrons from strange places, and Garreth. Whether from another time or no, he feels a new-found kindred, perhaps a brotherhood, with Garreth. Not as strong as a Bond between Master and Apprentice perhaps, but some sort of link. Perhaps he was merely desperate for that kinship after feeling the death of so very many brothers and sisters all at once.
"I...will accept your offer of assistance." Subconsciously Raile's hand drifts toward his old Master's saber hanging at his waist, squeezing it as if that provided a link to reality in this strange place.
-
Garreth smiles widely. He clarifies, "Now, I will no longer deceive you, nor treat you in a sideways manner. The only true assistance I can give, other than advice and an ear, is a technique taught to me called Force Light. It removes the taint of the Dark Side from people, objects, and sites. It is very difficult, and I have only been able to cleanse small objects so far. I've cleansed lightsabers and powerful, tainted, objects belonging to Sith from the Archives. This technique may be able to help you in some way. I truly fear that the extreme pain you felt and the overbearing anger you have held for so long, may have left a mark within you. I believe that my light may be able to weaken that mark, if not remove it all together.
"The success of your purging depends completely on you. How much you share, how much you feel, how much you are willing to forgive, how much you are willing to let go." He instinctively looks to the lightsaber Raile clings to. He does not mean to indicate it as something he must give up, it only catches his eye how much Raile seems to regard it. Though it would be understandable if his motion were misinterpreted.
-
Zorish stares at Parker in drunken disbelief for a moment. "I said I can walk," he says in a surly voice, beginning to make his way forward. Despite his host's incapacitation, his own mind is working fairly normally. He merely cannot make his commands translate smoothly to the human body. It is incredibly frustrating, but certainly not so irritating that he is willing to be carried by a complete stranger.
"Jus'....cover me," he manages to get out, staggering off in the general direction of his ship and away from he scene unfolding. He is dimly aware of the heat of Dracon shots warming his back, but he avoids the temptation to look behind him and throw his host's delicate balance off-kilter.
-
Jocun was glad the invisible enemy had been hit, though it wasn't one of his shots that hit him. "I don't suppose that strike would damage his cloak so we could see him better?" He asked in a deeper, more gutteral voice than usual due to his morph. Sharp spines grew on his skin as he continued, but he worried about that gun from before. How useful would this morph really be? "Are you going to keep playing hide and seek, or are you going to stop being a coward and show yourself!?" What he wouldn't give for e Leeran right about now. Obviously the armored soldier could detect the enemy, but he was leaving. Would he even come back after his guard duty was done?
-
Parker continued to support Tamora, helping her to walk upright. He kept an eye on his motion detector as they continued to walk toward her ship.
-
Silver watched them and leaned against the wall of the bar as Julian began to make small talk while sparring. "Focus, Julian. No showing off." she said scolding him, but the smile on her face said she meant well enough.
-
~Raile~
"I already feel quite a lot better, Garreth. Thank you. I am always willing to learn. It must've been that that I felt just now? I am not the strongest user of the Force and I have not practiced as much with it as I have with my lightsabers, but I am willing." He allows his hand to fall away from his old master's saber. Ever since Nev'An had died, Raile had taken to incorporating it with his own saber-style. Controlling two blades diverted the attention and required more concentration, but he had practiced hard to become proficient with both since he'd lost his old master. He always felt it was like fighting alongside his Nev'An once again.
-
Garreth nodded, "Training with two sabers takes much practice and discipline indeed; but to be able to fully quiet your mind and cleanse yourself of such hurtful emotion is much more challenging. Learning to forgive yourself and to let go of the attachments you've made requires more than just determination and focus. It is good that you are open to this." He gestures to the spot he previously sat and says, "If you are ready, we can begin now."
-
~Raile~
Raile closes his eyes a moment and then nods. He moves to sit where Garreth had been seated just a moment before. He crosses his legs in the traditional seated-meditation position and closes his eyes once again, trying to meditate, to open himself to the Force.
-
Garreth sits directly in front of Raile, mirroring him. He holds his hands out before him like catching the warmth of a fire. He closes his eyes and begins his own concentration. He speaks low and soft, "Now, let's work backward. Think about being on the run, being hunted down, and the injustice of having to hide while Evil corrupts the Republic. Let out the frustration you've stored."
As he speaks, he centers himself and feels the Force flowing through him. He gathers the feeling within him and forces that to flow in one direction. He aims it forward, through his hands. A dim light shines from his hands and washes over Raile.
-
Zorish stumbles his way to his ship, only dimly aware of Parker's continued presence alongside him.
When he reaches the vehicle he stares at it for a long moment before remembering that he needs to issue the command to allow himself entry.
"Computer, Open Hatch," he calls in Yeerkish. The computer identifies his voice and genetic signature, obediently opening the hatch and sliding out the ramp. As soon as the ramp touches down on gravel Zorish turns and takes a seat, the long climb up and into his ship seeming too difficult at the moment.
"Ugh," he murmurs, drawing Tamora's knees up to her chest and looping his arms around them. "Damn this body."
-
Parker watches as Tamora reaches her ship, commands it to open in an odd language, but then just curls up at the foot of the ramp and curses. He says, "Miss, I hope you forgive me for this, but you've come too far already." He reaches down and picks her up, reaching under her knees and holding her back. He walks her up the ramp and deposits her onto the ship's floor. He leaves the ship saying, "Sleep well."
He then heads back to Salem to ensure he too is safe.
-
A young man enters the bar. He wears a dark green shirt with dark brown sleeves and collar. He wears normal jeans indicitive of 21st century Earth. His blonde hair is short and neat, and his olivey irises thin as he walks in, leaving mostly pupil. He stares in disbelief at the creatures walking around him
One second he was walking around in his house; the next, he arrived here, and walked in the bar. He ran back outside and looked around. Ships...they looked like something from science fiction. And...more people. What was this place?
"What is this place!?", he whispered to himself. Of course he couldn't answer himself. He had no idea...and he didn't feel like asking the locals. So he store there like an idiot, frozen with fear...
And thus was the nature of Kaleb's first visit to the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar.
-
Salem immediately rolled to his side and pushed to his feet. Had he hit Rathien? He thought he saw some dust fly up in front of him, though whether from Rathien or from his own weapon blast, he wasn't sure.
In response to Jocun's question about whether the blast might disable the cloak, he simply called to the Yeerk, "Combat cloak." Essentially, he was trying to say that this particular mechanism was designed to be tough under fire. He couldn't allow his attention to waver any further- Rathien was very close, and from the sound of the beeping, very still. Even so, however, he allowed himself a slight smile at Jocun's taunting of Rathien.
"Not good enough, hunter!" Salem called, getting in on the action. His weapon-arm wouldn't be usable for much longer. He pushed himself to his feet, allowing a bright orange cylinder, about the size of his fist, to fall to the ground. As he stood, he backpedaled and thought-spoke a command at the cylinder, causing it to begin spewing a thick, acrid, purple-hued smoke. It would obscure him- normally, he'd take this opportunity to escape, but he had no idea from which direction Rathien was watching him. Besides, now seemed as good a time as any to end his worries with this hunter once and for all.
He re-holstered his weapon- it wouldn't be much use in a moment, limp gun-hand or no- and pulled the bandanna that was draped around his neck up and over his mouth. Strapped into the bandanna was a breathing apparatus, which could serve as a gas mask, among other things. He dropped into a low, ready position and sent another thought-speak command to activate a small "patch" sewn into the back of the right knee of his pants. The device would burn hot and bright, setting up what amounted to being almost a miniature electromagnetic storm. It would only last a minute or two, but during that time, it should disrupt the proper function of most electronic devices within a few meters of Salem. This included Dracon Beams, he knew from experience, and most of his own equipment. He hoped it also included Rathien's cloak, to some degree.
He dropped into a low, ready stance and used his left hand to grab a piece of equipment from his belt. It looked somewhat like a piece of nylon rope, a little longer than his hand, with a large ball-bearing on one end and a metallic ring around the other.
-
As Parker walked back to Salem's position, Thor spoke up inside his helmet, <Sir, there's an EM field in the direction you're heading. Though your armor is shielded from its effects, your SEMTEX grenades will be non-functioning.> Parker replied aloud, "Thanks for the warning."
He continued further, switching his visor to IR when he saw the column of smoke. Thor tagged the profiles seen with the vitals taken before. He could identify Salem within the smoke column. The two other forms standing afar from Salem were obviously Keshin and the man from earlier, though they weren't close enough for their vitals to be scanned.
Parker looked around to see if he could verify any body temp signatures. Hopefully the cloak this assailant was using wouldn't hide that as well. Parker called out as he entered the smokey area, "Salem, this is Parker entering your vicinity. Don't fire."
He removed his Battle Rifle from his right side and scanned the area.
-
"Hey, pirates were exactly what the old place needed," Myitt says with an easy grin, letting her legs sprawl out in front of her under the table.
She leans back and nurses her drink. "I mean, honestly, it's not like we're all common criminals."
-
"No!" Ewa snatched her arm back an leaned away, though her feet didn't move. No, you do not get to smile at me like I'm the one who's not making sense, no, you don't get to play that game, do not get to treat me like I'm hurt, or damaged--oh god what's wrong with me--no, you are not an android, you're.... no, no that's not right, none of it's right, and no, I do not want to sit down.
"No," she said again, more forcefully this time, her voice weighted with an icy edge. She crossed her arms over her chest and breathed in slowly through her nose as she tried to rise above the slightly hysterical gibberish of her thoughts.
"Not good enough. Try again." She glared at Al with all the implacable force of a winter storm.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien continues to wait. He holds his Entroper, but the strange armored individual is back too quickly for an effective shot. Not to mention the fact that Rathien himself was probably in the blast range. This was not going well...he had misjudged how these others would react. Three against one, not great odds though he relished the thought of fighting all three simultaneously. Such an act would be most challenging, and very satisfying if successful, but it was not either of the others' times to go any more than it was Tobias's. Such collateral damage was...undesirable. He had hit him though...the agony of turning away would be great this time. Tobias was weakened. Far from helpless, but weakened all the same. Rathien might never have such a good chance again.
One more thing he might try...he growls in a feral manner and launches into a series of back-flips to pull him further away from all three individuals, and then dials his Entroper up to its medium setting and fires at the ground underneath Salem and Parker. The energy of dirt and rock breaking down into baser components in an instant causes a fairly decent explosion, earth fountaining a good thirty feet in the air. Through the cloud of dust he can't see what has happened to the armored individual and Tobias just yet, but perhaps the confusion might allow him to dart in and disable Tobias, or abandon the situation depending on the first glimpses he would catch. Time seems to slow as his predatory response blasts chemicals through his body, giving him enhanced senses and reaction time. He waits for the dust to clear enough for his piercing eyes to punch through the fog, and to decide what to do next.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _
~Raile~
Raile brings up his feelings again. At first he holds back, not wanting a repeat of what had happened in the bar, but Garreth had said the technique required him to do as much as possible. He allows his anger to boil forth and the ground begins to vibrate around him as the Force reacts to his brightly-burning emotions. He feels the energy from Garreth waft over him again, but more focused this time, directed at him instead of the interaction being little more than a by-product.
-
As Parker aims down sight, he glances to his motion detector for any signs of where the target might be. Suddenly movement! It moves away, but moving none the less. He aims in its general direction and fires three quick three-round bursts in a wide ranged circle, then a final burst within that circle. Thor detects an energy discharge and warns Parker, <Sir, jump now!>
Parker jumps straight in the air just as the ground beneath him explodes outward. The force hits his shields and propels him further upward. Parker, seeing no heat signatures, switches to normal vision and aims forward, in front of the affected area, to land. He crouches as he hits the ground and takes a knee, rifle at the ready. His shield blinks out and lights on his joints begin to flash. Parker kneels, panting, scrutinizing the area for any tell-tale signs of an invisible presence. He looks for drag marks in the dirt, crushed grass, whatever he can find. Parker begins a mental countdown for when his shields should recharge.
Garreth continues to focus while moving on to the next step. The ground shaking doesn't alarm him any and continues to speak calmly, "Now think about the lives lost, your brothers. Killed unjustly by the soldiers they once lead. Feel the anger you feel towards that loss." He gathers more of his energies and pictures it lancing toward Raile. The light from his hands begins to grow in intensity; but only slightly.
-
The enemy fired a shot, but missed, and by firing gave away his location. Jocun quickly fired a shot where the enemy's shot came from. If only he wasn't armed, Jocun could rush in and tear him in half. All that blood...no! He had to control his morph's powerful, Taxxon level urges. It was such a good morph for close quarters combat, but the urge to kill was powerful. Thick hide, strong bones, and short but sharp quills made it hard for anything not armed with a dracon beam or some such to do anything to him. He thought about seeking cover, but couldn't afford to take his eyes away from the enemy's location.
-
"Everyone needs a pirate or two," Chris says, grinning easily as he leans back against the vinyl of the booth. "I still think I need to get myself an eyepatch or something to complete the look." He eyes Illim's living metal hand. "Or maybe a peg leg. Hey, if I ever accidentally-on-purpose blow off my leg will you donate some of your ship?" He gives Illim an innocent smile.
<<You will do no such thing,>> Keslin murmurs, knowing full well that Chris has no intentions of doing so. <<I rather like all of your limbs intact."
If Zorish notices Parker lift his host's inebriated body he pays no mind. By the time he is placed on the cold, metal floor of the ship Tamora has lost the battle for consciousness, sinking into a dreamless, drunken sleep. Zorish realizes that the hatch is still open, and the ramp extended as well.
<<Tamora, wake up a second,>> he orders his host. <<I just need to lock us in and turn the cloak back on.>>
No response. His host is thoroughly unconscious and Zorish gives a small internal sigh. Great, he thinks. We're perfectly safe unless anyone decides to take a tour of the giant Imperial ship that left its front door wide open.
-
"Yes, thank you," Serid nods politely to Myitt, and his eyes track slowly to her casual but affectionate touch on Daniel's hand, which has curled around hers in return. For some reason, their actions make him uncomfortable, and although he says nothing, he squirms a little in his seat. If he is fully honest with himself, half the reason he would like a drink is that it would separate Myitt from Illim a moment.
Illim smirks at Chris. "First of all, it's her ship that got donated for our arm, not mine." He squeezes Myitt's hand gently, his eyes darting to her warmly a moment to convey his thanks yet again. "Second of all, yes," he agrees, grinning broadly at Chris and Keslin, tone enthusiastic. "You definitely need an eyepatch. And one of those long coats, you know? And boots. You'd look smashing."
-
"You're quite welcome," Myitt says with a lingering smile, nodding at Serid.
Her attention quickly turns to Illim and Keslin and Chris, as she squeezes Illim's hand gently.
"Oh, you must promise Tara and me that you'll start wearing a bandana and sporting a parrot on your shoulder. Parrots are necessary for pirates, or so I am told, in human cultures." Myitt leans back, still letting her free hand clutch Daniel's, but smiling smugly and letting her free hand rest on her lap. Easy access to her weapon.
-
Salem remained in a low stance, and nodded at Parker as the soldier entered the smoke cloud and came close enough to see. He was a bit annoyed by Jocun and Parker's interference- Rathien wasn't dumb enough to try and fight them all, and they might cost Salem his chance at ending this.
His attention was very quickly recalled to the situation at hand when the beeping in his head suddenly began decreasing in frequency. No! Rathien was retreating! He barely had time to be annoyed, however, when the ground beneath him began to lift upwards and explode outward.
Instinctively, he loosened his knees and rolled to the side, down what amounted to being a fountain of rising earth. He struggled back to his feet- difficult to do, now that his right arm was all-but-useless. It seemed he'd twisted his knee during the fall, as well. It could have been worse, he thought, as chunks of gravel rained down around him.
Parker and Jocun were both already firing shots off in the direction Salem guessed most likely for Rathien. Where did they get off? This wasn't their fight. If they killed Rathien before Salem could get to him, he'd have a few... choice words to share with the two of them.
He simply stood, his right arm limp, favoring his right leg. His smoke cloud had been mostly dissipated by the Entroper's blast, and there was no sign of the smoke grenade he'd used. Even so, he was convinced he could take the Ildari, should he make a move. He narrowed his eyes and scanned the area, trying to ignore the darkness beginning to cloud the edges of his vision.
Al blinked. He wasn't entirely used to dealing with people who were so uncomfortable around him, but he could guess what was happening- Ewa, like Larry, earlier, just didn't seem at ease with the idea of an artificial being.
"Hey, I don't bite," he said jokingly. "Not usually, anyway. I'm still the same guy, promise. I'm just a bit more metallic than you realized." He smiled at her, "I thought you were okay with the idea of alien cultures and all that. How's an android all that much different?"
-
Her lips thinned into nonexistence, but Ewa was physically incapable of glaring any harder than she already was, so instead she closed her eyes--slowly, deliberately, and with an insulting air of condescension. She breathed in again, using the moment to really concentrate all of her disgust with the situation and bring it to the fore.
"Fine." She reopened her eyes and unclenched her jaw just enough to speak. "This how you want to play it? Fine. That's fine then, just fine. Shall I play along again? Would you like that?" Her voice took on a sickly-sweet tone one might use to insult children. Or especially intelligent dogs.
Ewa took a single step back, ran her eyes down and up Al's form once. She met his eyes just for an instant to let him know that there was nothing about him that she did not find disgusting in that moment, then all of her body language changed. The tension relaxed several degrees and her body half-twisted away from Al, uncertainly. One arm dropped down near her waist while the strayed up towards her hair in a self-conscious gesture.
"No no no, it's not that--I mean, well, I was a little--not that there's anything wrong with being an android, no, of course not, just--" She kept running her fingers through her hair and bit the corner of her mouth, her mind searching for words while her eyes looked anywhere but Al's face. "I'm sorry." With an effort she forced her eyes to meet his. "I didn't handle that very well, did I?"
Her expression was embarrassed and apologetic, but she kept a few of the muscles around her eyes tightened--just enough for the ghost of her previous expression to whisper in the background.
-
"A parrot, eh?" Chris asks, tilting his head to consider. "I dunno, you think Reven'd approve of having a bird on base? Hm...looks as though I'll have to do some dumpster diving on the next supply run. A long coat and boots I can manage. The eyepatch might be more difficult."
He takes a cheerful sip of his beer, much more relaxed than his Yeerkish counterpart.
Zorish listens to the hazy, indistinct sounds of battle from outside his ship, unable to do anything but hope that a stray shot will not find Tamora where she is lying unconscious.
<<You know, you just need to wake up a little,>> Zorish says to his unhearing host conversationally. <<Just long enough for me to reach the medical supplies and inject us with a stimulant - get this poison out of our body.>>
No response. Zorish is stuck waiting for Tamora to work off her drunkeness the old-fashioned way.
-
Keshin grits his teeth upon noticing Parker. That gun-toting moron had completely ruined their last bounty, and he didn't expect the man to be any more helpful this time. Their eyes meet, but Keshin hears a note from Salem telling them to stay low. Keshin attempts to stay out of the range of the group, watching in surprise as a bizarre fight breaks out. With nothing. Definitely this Rathien guy. <What do you make of it?>
<We can' take him if we can' see him. Gimme control and I'll wait until I know where he is.>
<Got it.>
In the middle of the fight, Rathien lets loose some kind of smoke grenade. Joanne coughs, attempting to get her bearings, scanning the area for Rathien. He had to be here, and the bounty hunter's instincts for this kind of thing were second to none. The problem was she got nothing, and she couldn't exactly fire blind. Joanne swore and attempts to push the haze out of her vision, although she wasn't really sure that would help. There had to be a way of figuring out where Salem's target was.
**********************************************************************************************************************************
Mar frowns, glancing up from his work. Odd---many of the auras he'd grown accustomed to were clustered about in the same spot. Salem for one, and where the trader was involved Mar had learned to expect trouble. It wasn't his concern, however---he had a War-Prince to save. Mar slowly re-involves himself in the process, attempting to help Ossanlin draw the shards of his consciousness together. <You need to come back, Ossanlin. There are those that miss you. I require you. Ignore what the Highest says about me---it does not matter to you. Follow my trail out.>
-
Kaleb continued looking around at the bar and the immediate area...he'll just have to act like he knows whats happening...and where he is.
So he walks back into the bar, stiff as a tree-trunk and sits down at a table.
-
Myitt grins. "A parrot would be...difficult to keep alive, hah," she says, her eyes blanking as she considers the merits and difficulties of having pets. "I rather think that Tara would prefer a cat, honestly. They are such independent little creatures. Besides, she has no need for her fingers to be intact and without horrible scratches."
She wriggles the fingers of her free hand, letting the hand touching Daniel's to rest there gently.
-
"I had a few cats growing up," Chris says. "They're great. All you have to do is make sure food stays in their bowl and the litter box is clean and they'll love you forever. Some catnip never hurt either."
Keslin seeps into control again, Chris' eyes tightening with worry. "Are we certain that it is safe here?" he murmurs. He thought that he had heard shots outside. "I came here so that Chris could have a drink, not get us killed." In an afterthought, he adds, "Or lose limbs, despite Chris' most desperate attempts to portray himself as a pirate. Tess would probably be unhappy if I returned him without a leg."
Finally, after what seems like an interminable amount of time, Zorish's prodding is successful in getting a shuddering internal groan out of Tamora. Her body slips into just enough of a hazy consciousness that he is able to seize control and force her eyes open.
<<Dapsen, Tamora,>> Zorish hisses, as the bright cabin lights sear their eyes and a pounding headache makes itself abruptly, and unpleasantly known. Groaning himself, Zorish pulls his disobeying body onto its knees and, after some consideration, opts to crawl over to the small room that has been set aside for medical purposes.
It takes him some time, and an unnatural amount of effort, but eventually he manages to pull a small syringe from its container, which is carefully labeled in Yeerkish. It takes even longer for him to fill the syringe correctly and use his host's bleary eyes to find the correct vein, but finally he manages to empty the syringe into Tamora's bloodstream and lean back against the wall in exhaustion.
That should do it, he thinks, closing his eyes against the piercing light. Just a few minutes and we'll be back to ourselves. In the meantime, our front door is hanging open like a damned invitation.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin's moans become more and more coherent as he finally clears the fog. He blinks suddenly, looking around the medbay at Claxter and Mar. <I...am...on the Mirage. What...what happened?>
Ossanlin remembers actions taken now...away from the GESB. Even though he knows he's been at the GESB the entire time, he can remember conversations...Efa en...memories....Er toran being uncooperative. Efaen had done something...terribl e...and something terrible had been done back. He furrows his brow, not certain if the memories are from some other Universe or some sort of byproduct of whatever had just happened to him. He looks questioningly at Mar. <Did I collapse?>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _________________
~Rathien~
Rathien growls to himself as another controller, or so he assumes, joins the fray in favor of Tobias. His wrist indicator gives a warning...he had been too long in the camouflage. The energy field had unfortunate effects after a time. The radiation emitted from the field could not be detected from the outside, but it was certainly present, even somewhat amplified within. Oh Rathien could spend as long as he wanted inside the cloak, he just preferred to avoid the slow radiation poisoning that would occur if he did. Suddenly the armored human's weapon fires explosion-powered projectiles...primi tive yet dangerous.
He grimaces and curses to himself, performing another series of flips spins, but a series of bullets manages to catch one of the shoulder guards of his upper-body armor, marring the scroll-work and pushing him into an unintended spin as they glance off and up. No clear shots, and things looked more and more bleak for his chances. No guidance from fate. He could get himself killed in this setting. And yet Tobias was weakened. He performs a forward flip out of his new position, whirling his blades as he closes the distance with Salem quickly, whirling, aiming for the gun hand, the hamstring, any debilitating cut that would hinder his performance, yet would leave him well within the realm of the living.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _
~Raile~
Raile's chin raises up as he allows his thoughts to be guided by Garreth. He feels the Force seem to catch within him..to pull at him. Tears begin to flow down his cheeks from pure anger and bone-deep grief. The Force vibrations around the two increase and small pebbles begin to jump and leap into the air. Larger rocks, clumps of sod, objects the size of a fist or a head begin to levitate unbidden. Raile begins to lift off the ground as well. His breathing is staggered as he allows himself for the first time in a very long time to feel the true depths of his emotional reserves. A sound something between a snarl of rage and a wail of sadness escapes his lips as the Force runs rampant around him.
-
<I am glad to see you awaken, Prince ossanlin.> Claxter said. He had directed his question to Mar, so claxter wasn't sure if he should go ahead and answer. <How do you feel?>
Missed again. Jocun was becoming frustrated at the enemy he couldn't see or hit as it continually tried to kill Salem. He felt helpless, really. The only idea he had left was to call his ship. He sent a massage on his communicator, as difficult as it was with his big hands and long claws. The ship lifted off the ground, and started making its way over. Of course he couldn't just blast craters in the area, but it would help to project a shield and get Salem inside. Maybe even catch that thing in the shield.
-
Myitt snorts in amusement. "Of course it's not safe here, what's the fun in that?" she says with a sharp grin, pouring another glass of liquor. "What about you, Serid? Did you ever have any pets back at home, wherever home was?"
She pauses, considering. "I never did. Although it wasn't unheard of, on the homeworld."
-
Garreth concentrates further, drawing on the light within him. He knows working through these emotions all at once can take a toll on one's constitution. He pushes as much energy as he can toward the grieving Jedi, and the light emanating from his hands brightens further. The light is now no longer a faint shine like a torch, but a bright white like a beacon. The light bathes Raile and continues past him. This light will allow Raile to feel his emotions and work through them without the fear or side effect of leaving any dark taints behind. Any corruption or darkness within him should begin to break down.
To ensure Raile hears him over his own thoughts, emotions, and trembling, Garreth continues to speak to Raile using telepathy, <Now, Jedi Knight Raile, remember your master. The Jedi you fought along side for so many years, suddenly gone. No longer around to offer advise or answers to any questions you have. He is dead, and has left you alone.>
Garreth wanted to save the memory of Raile's master for last, because he knew it was the strongest and most potent of injuries done to him. Hopefully after Raile allows himself to feel these emotions, Garreth will be able to begin healing them, and show Raile another view of the situation. Hopefully, he can offer Raile a different way to channel his emotions so that he can expel them immediately rather than storing them.
-
Illim smirks at the idea of Myitt snuggling up to some space-dwelling feline, and he squeezes her hand gently as he watches her. "I never did have a pet, but Daniel had dogs growing up," he butts into the conversation before Serid has a chance to respond. "And... oh, huh. Squibbles. The gerbil. Daniel hadn't thought about that little guy in years," he murmurs thoughtfully, eyes turned ceiling-ward.
Serid watches Illim, his face expressionless, although he seems patient enough with the intrusion of the Yeerk who used to live in his head. When he is done speaking, he says, "I never had a pet, either. My parents thought such things frivolous, but that did not prevent me from wanting one."
-
Myitt snorts. "Squibbles?" she laughs. "That's...that's so adorable, I don't even know where to begin."
She turns her attention to Serid. "What sorts of pets do Andalites have?" she asks curiously.
-
Parker heard one of his shots ricochet. He hit something, but his motion tracker was still showing movement, impressing movement. This cloaked assailant was definitely armored. Parker wished he had withdrew his shotgun so the scattershot would find better purchase, however this gun was better since the assailant liked to keep its distance. Parker watched the movements on his tracker and noticed it moving forward. He immediately corrected his aim to its assumed path and shot two more dispersed bursts. Two adjacent triangles of bullets flew to where the motions were heading.
-
~Raile~
A cry of pure agony rips out of Raile's throat almost unbidden. He thrashes as floating stones and clods of dirt and sod are either pulverized or hurled outward from Raile's body with extreme force. He opens his eyes, tears still bathing his cheeks, the bright whiteness of Garreth's light blinding in intensity. He reaches out with the Force for his old Master's lightsaber. With so much of the Force in him, it is simple to pull the saber from his belt with the Force. It begins whirling around the pair not more than five feet out and Raile watches Garreth seated on the ground as he levitates himself further and further up, spreading himself out not wholly dissimilar to the Vitruvian Man.
In an instant, Raile ignites his old Master's lightsaber with the Force and it orients on his chest, becoming and arrow pointed at Raile's own heart. It flies with blinding speed. Raile had thought he had the strength just a moment ago. The strength to carry on, and the resolve, but this exercise had shown him how far he had fallen. He would hold to one thing though...he would not fall to the Dark Side...he would die first, and by his old Master's lightsaber as was appropriate.
-
Al ****ed his head. There definitely seemed to be something he was missing with Ewa. She seemed, for a moment, to be running two separate trains of thought. So... multiple personalities? Al'd met some humans with multiple personalities. Nothing said "Party of One" like a Furkagoer with twelve minds.
This seemed different, though. Ewa was entirely aware of what she was doing. So... she was acting? Or... in this place, more likely, she was undercover? If that were the case, though, she did seem a bit too open about it. He expected those who were undercover to be more like Salem- never wavering from their story, creating fake identities, hiding who they were and what they could do. Ewa didn't quite seem to fill that description. He got the feeling that she'd shown her true self for a few moments... but the 'self' that she'd shown afterwards was very convincing.
So... what, then?
Al smiled. If he pushed her about it, she'd probably wind up upset, from what he'd seen. He could play along for now. She'd be forthcoming when she was ready.
He laughed, "I've seen people take it worse." He looked at her with a grin, "Ewa, you're an odd one. I mean that in the best way possible. Where is it you said you were from?"
Salem frowned. Jocun's ship was now drifting towards them... something was definitely odd about this situation.
Before he could think any more on it, however, the beeping, indicative of Rathien's presence to him, began to increase in frequency quite rapidly. Salem gripped his rope-like piece of equipment tightly and, lacking a second hand with which to turn it on, spun the "collar" against his leg. The result was that the device began to spray forth what could be mistaken for sparks or fireflies- small, glowing, yellow-orange bits of otherworldly material that seemed to be unaffected by wind or gravity or even the ground through which they passed at first, but sprayed forward in fits and spurts, until they finally fizzled out nearly as far from the end of the device as Salem was tall. The resulting spray of sparks resembled some sort of amalgamation between a sword, a whip, and a fountain. Where the first few sparks had entered the dirt, the grass withered and burned.
For about one second, the fountain of sparks sputtered and spewed unevenly, but as the last of Salem's EMF patch burned itself out, the regulator for the device began functioning again, and the sparks flowed steadily.
Salem kept his eyes in the direction everyone seemed to think Rathien was. Salem dimly noted Parker firing in the general direction he was looking- the soldier seemed to be as trigger-happy as Jocun. And he either had some way of tracking Rathien- albeit poorly, it seemed- or... Something was very wrong here.
He'd worry about it later.
Salem spun on his one good leg and dropped to one knee. As he did, he swung his "whip" in a wide arc, about waist-high, causing a wave of sparks to rocket in the direction he'd swung. In one fluid motion, he swung it twice more, sending out two more waves in an 'X' pattern.
He was intending to drop down and roll, but he stumbled as he tried to roll- though whether because of his hurt leg or his drugged state, he wasn't sure. He caught himself on his hands and knees and stayed for a moment, shaking his head, trying to clear the ringing in his ears... the beeping... the shots... the ship... so loud... he pressed his eyes closed...
-
~Rathien~
Rathien tucks into a low forward roll as the armored individual begins firing his explosive compressed-gas weapon again. As he comes within range of Salem's failing disruptive patch, his camouflage falters a bit, not revealing his body but a series of what look like waves through the air around his location. He dodges the first fitful sparks of Salem's odd weapon, but is forced to halt and front flip over the first true salvo of sparks as his camouflage shuts down mid-flip, revealing his body, to rematrix after the disruption patch. He immediately spins himself into a lateral mid-air roll, his right toe barely clearing the bottom line of sparks, some of his whirling hair singed by the upper line. He smirks and swings at Salem as his camouflage reinitializes and his body fades from sight and auditory perception once again.
-
Salem dropped his weapon for a moment- the heat of the sparks started small fires in the grass that quickly burned themselves out- and reached into his left pocket. He pulled out what looked like a red pill. Using his teeth, he bit off half of it and spit it into the grass. The half still in his hand displayed a tiny needle, which he pressed into the back of his right hand. That done, he looked to the side just in time to see Rathien shimmer out of visibility as he began to swing his sword.
Salem acted on instinct- he grabbed his weapon with his left hand and ducked down and forward- under where the sword had seemed to be swinging. He swung his weapon wide, to cover the routes he'd pictured Rathien using, and swung his injured foot out and up in a clumsy kick towards where Rathien would have ended up if he'd moved the direction Salem had seen him.
He thought, at this point, that he'd escaped this blow, but his perception of time was off- the edge caught him and grazed a line open, through his coat and across his back.
"Damn..." he muttered, rolling to his feet and looking once again for any signs of the hunter.
<<Al! I could use a hand!>> he yelled for the android in private thought-speak, not sure whether his friend was even within range.
Al's head turned in surprise, as if he'd actually heard Salem speak. The thought-speak was distant and the words too quiet and garbled to make out properly, but Salem's voice, and his tone of alarm, were unmistakable.
"Hold that thought," he said to Ewa. "Need to check on a friend." He began moving with unnatural speed in Salem's direction.
-
He was there, then gone again. Far too close to Salem, and far too hard to hit. His ship hovered closer, seemingly sluggish as time seemed to drag. Jocun began running, regretting now that he morphed. His morph wasn't helping, since he was pretty much ignored. He demorphed as he ran to the ship, which was lowering a pad to allow him to get in without it needing to land. Once inside, he began punching keys. The ship could detect the enemy, and it could also of course project holograms. with this, the ship could make the enemy's location shine like a beacon. He issued the command, and went for the rifle. As the ship's sensors detected the enemy's location, it would project a bright yellow color around the immediate area. The only thing he worried about was the creature's speed causing there to be a delay in the projected spot as the sensor attempted to keep up with its movements.
With the rifle in hand, and a shield keeping the enemy from simply leaping into his ship, Jocun began looking for a bright yellow spot.
-
With the movement getting closer and closer, Parker let his Battle Rifle drop to the ground. There was no time to properly stow his weapon. He grabbed his shotgun from his left shoulder and withdrew his sword from his right thigh in one motion. He saw the assailant appear where he was tracking its movements, as he crossed into the EM field. Parker ingnited his sword and leveled his scattershot shotgun at the assailant. The assassin swung at Salem and began to disappear. Parker shot, almost point blank, to where the attacker's momentum was sure to send him. He kept a firm grip on his sword. Even if the man's armor could protect him from a shot as close as that, which even a Brute was unable to do; then when, and of course if, his camo should fail, his sword would be able to lock in at that close range and send him flying into the skilled assassin.
-
Garreth felt a disturbance in Raile's will. He sensed almost that he was giving up. Garreth couldn't allow this. He had come so far. He opened his eyes to look upon his friend and saw a lightsaber ignite. He immediately connected the feelings and extended one hand toward the weapon as it began to plunge toward Raile.
"NO!"
Garreth divided his attention from projecting his energy and grabbed hold of the weapon using the Force. He focused his attention now, not on helping to cleanse him, but to merely saving his life. Somehow this new resolve fueled both of his actions. His grip on the saber grew and the light from his remaining hand expanded. Rather than the light coming from his hand, it now poured from his entire body.
Garreth yelled out to Raile. To his amazement, it was both sounded and sent, <"Don't do this Raile! Don't give up when you've come so far. Stay true to yourself. You are not a coward. You are not weak. You are a Jedi Knight! I understand that you feel desperate, but that is why I AM STILL HERE!
<"Your master is gone... to The Force. He has become one with The Force. All of your brother and sister Jedi have become one with The Force. They are gone from this world; but they are not truly gone. They are with you always, beside you, behind you, above you, always with you. They live within you. You will never be alone. They are alive in the memories you have, the values you hold, the lessons you WILL pass on. They are not to be mourned, but celebrated. Honor their memory by continuing the Jedi way. Channel your thoughts toward the good they have done; and the good you will do because of them. Do not squander their efforts by sulking and pining for what cannot be changed. Be at peace brother. Mourn no more. Remember.">
-
~Rathien~
Rathien feels the exhilaration as his blade connects with Salem's flesh, but his feelings are short-lived as the armored individual fires some sort of flechette weapon at him. His flex armor catches the brunt of the blast, knocking him several feet to the side, but he feels a searing pain as one of the pellets finds its way around one of the plates and up under his arm, another burrowing into his gluteal area.
He hisses in pain and glances up at a ship overhead...apparent ly the shot earlier had not damaged it nearly enough as it was the same one that belonged to the controller. One that could somehow track him...just as conclusions follow thoughts, he's bathed in some sort of light emanating from the ship. He curses, torn only for a moment between finishing Tobias and fleeing from a situation that was becoming worse and worse by the moment.
After that split second, he tears himself away from Tobias's vicinity and dashes toward the treeline in a zigging, evasive pattern. He modifies his Entroper's blast range to create a large flack explosion just above his position and fires upwards, bathing the sky around him in fire, hopefully obscuring himself from the ship at least partially. He uses his wrist computer to locate the body of water he'd noted on his earlier scan and changes his path again. As he reaches the treeline, he leaps into the branches, changing his heading once more, leaping from branch to branch with superior speed and agility. He changes headings often enough to make his end-goal questionable to any tracker, and doubles back a couple of times before finally reaching the lake. He leaps from a branch and dives into the water, pulling out his small breathable gas converter and sticking it in his mouth just before hitting the water.
His wounds burn as he strokes powerfully through the water...down and down to the bottom. He deactivates his camouflage. He settles on the bottom of the lakebed some distance out, reprogramming his camouflage to create a small bubble around him devoid of water, and sits for a moment, breathing hard after his exertion. He'd resheathed his fighting knives the moment he'd reached the trees, but he gingerly feels his wounds. Those pellets would have to come out.
He opens a small compartment on his belt that holds his emergency medical supplies. One is a small device used to remove shrapnel. He digs the anchoring hooks up under his arm to the place of the first pellet and arms the small but powerful electromagnet. He hisses as the pellet is pulled from his flesh quite forcefully. Next he moves the device to the wound in his right glute and repeats the procedure, the pain not quite as sharp there as the pellet digs its way out of muscle and flesh. He secures the device, pellets still within it, back in its compartment and takes out an all-purpose mender to sterilize and close each wound.
That done, he takes a few more moments to catch his breath. He'd not even bothered to remove any of his armor or clothing to take out those pellets...it had been unnecessary. He curses under his breath again. He'd been so close. Now Tobias was weakened and there was nothing he could do about it. Curse those individuals, they couldn't know the hundredth part of what Tobias was, he felt he didn't know a tenth of it himself, and yet they rushed to his aid without any rhyme or reason. Frustration barely began to describe his feelings. He sits a few moments underneath the water to let things hopefully cool down. Then he could surface and finally cleanse the radiation from his body. His wrist indicator was still flashing at him about that.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _________________
~Raile~
Raile fights Garreth over the lightsaber, but the other's grip is too secure...Garreth must be strong in the Force. It is futile, but the saber is not far from Raile's chest. He uses the Force to twist one of the small knobs, the saber's beam thinning but lengthening. Slowly snaking its way closer to his chest without the hilt having to move.
"I have failed Garreth! Look at this power, I will not fall! I told you I would rather die and that is the truth! This pain, this anger...look what it's doing to me! It's overpowering me, I cannot control any of this! I won't become a vessel of darkness! I refuse to! I wish...but there is no wishing is there?" His words are loud but crestfallen, filled with nothing but disappointment. They can be heard though, through the maelstrom. Arcs of purple electricity begin lancing through the suspended rocks and dirt as everything begins to whirl around the pair. "I cannot control it, how can I trust myself? I cannot..." His emotions continue to rage as the blade continues to lengthen slowly, extending...almost close enough to singe his tunic now.
-
Garreth closes his eyes and concentrates on the lightsaber. He was manipulating the blade. So Garreth felt inside the lightsaber. He reached out and began to crush the lenses responsible for focusing the blade. Soon the lightsaber would be nothing more than a flashlight until repaired.
<"There is no power. There is only The Force. You can control it. You are controlling it now. You must see that. The Force does not act on its own. You are doing this, you are giving up, giving in. You are giving into the Dark Side. You must resist.
<"There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force...">
Garreth continued to chant the code both aloud and inside Raile's head. The light emanating from his body still continues to shine over Raile.
Parker couldn't see anything after shooting; however Salem was still alive. His attack must've stopped the assailant. He notices drag marks in the gravel some distance away. He immediately ran and crouched between Salem and the assassin. So the camo survived the attack, impressive still. Parker saw a light shine on the area he was observing and saw motion on his motion detector move away. The pattern was ragged and meant to throw off any tails. However Parker was not interested in giving chase. He only wanted to ensure the safety of Salem.
He stood and turned around to face Salem. He extended his hand and asked, "Would you like assistance reaching your ship?"
-
~Raile~
Raile senses Garreth's move towards the focusing lens and his eyes widen. "NO!" He pulls all the Force energy into himself and pushes at the hilt, trying to dislodge it from Garreth's grip. The last hands to have worked on that saber had been Nev'An's. He could not allow Garreth to destroy it in such a way.
The arcs of electricity ground themselves and vanish, the whirling dust cloud ceases and begins settling to the earth. Slowly the emotions drain from Raile like water running down a drain and he loses all grip on the Force. He abruptly falls to the ground, slumping and falling over, the Force no longer filling him. His body lies limp on the hard-packed earth, rocks that had been lifted high in the air still impacting around them as gravity finally brings them all the way back down. He stares off into nothing, eyes unfocused, his mind still reeling from the shock of the entire experience. He mumbles, barely audible and without thinking... "I will not fall...I will die first...I will not fall, Master...I will not disappoint..." His low, thought-lacking ramblings continue on, unyielding.
-
Garreth watches as the lightsaber flies away and Raile falls to the ground. He ceases his actions as well. The light emanating from his body fades. He kneels over Raile's body and begins to try to return him to consciousness. Unfortunately, the experience of his struggle with Raile had left him drained. He began to feel it in his bones; it was getting harder to stay upright. He sat down next to Raile and he began falling asleep from fatigue. Finally, with his last conscious effort, he reached out and sent Raile one last telepathic message, <Emotion, peace. Ignorance, knowledge. Passion, serenity. Chaos... harmony.... Death... Force.> Hopefully his message will get through to Raile. After expending the last of his energy, Garreth fell unconscious.
-
"Finally got the message." Jocun said. He hadn't had much opportunity to take a shot before the mysterious enemy was gone. For now. He landed the ship and went to Salem. "Hopefully he's just sedated, and not seriously poisoned. I'll examine the dart to make sure. Thanks for your help. I'll take him to the safety of my ship." He looked at Keshin. "You're invited back in case you want to!" He said across the distance.
-
Ewa smiled sheepishly at Al, grateful for his understanding. On the inside, she was sneering at him for failing to rise to her bait. I know you know. You stood there so confused and thoughtful for that long, so it's not like you didn't notice. I know you're not completely blind. Still, he had chosen to ignore the out-of-character swipes. If Ewa did otherwise at this point, she'd just make herself look more like a pathetic, incompetent child. I am not going to forget this, she promised herself.
"Thanks? I suppose." Her eyes shifted down towards the ground. "Don't think I even deserve questionable compliments after--"
Al's head turned in surprise
"Hold that thought," he said to Ewa. "Need to check on a friend." He began moving with unnatural speed in Salem's direction.
Ewa froze, her mouth still open, for a moment. Slippery bastard. Her forehead creased with concern as her jaw moved back into position and she took off after him at a sprint. He was heading towards the landing bay, where there seemed to be some commotion in the form an eclectic collection of weapon fire and explosions. Brilliant. Let's all run towards the danger when all the safeties seem to be disabled. Lovely plan. So glad I'm doing this. Up ahead, Al continued to put more and more distance between the two of them.
Jeeze, how fast can he run? Nothing about the legs looks all the different, so where... Ewa quashed the thought before it could start running away from itself.
-
Salem watched in surprise as a yellow glow seemed to illuminate a general area near him, then moved towards the treeline, apparently displaying Rathien's approximate location, since it coincided with the beeping in his head's rapid decrease in frequency. Salem ducked as a shot from Rathien's fun little weapon lit up the sky above the glow momentarily, but it was apparently only a diversion. Which was good- no way Salem could have ducked fast enough to evade a shot traveling at the speed of light regardless.
Coughing, Salem dropped to his hands and knees again. The chemical he'd injected himself with would provide him with a short-lived boost, similar to adrenaline- though this would work on all of his body systems. His right arm was already filled with a burning sensation as the chemical fought against whatever Rathien had injected him with- he was still feeling the effects of the tranquilizer, but his own injection would allow him to move his arm regardless. He gripped the collar of his weapon and turned it, shutting it down, and clipped it back onto his belt, then reached up with his left hand and pulled the dart from his right shoulder blade. He examined it for a moment before shaking his head- he'd get nothing out of this now, with how he was feeling- and pocketing it.
He closed his eyes, trying to block out Parker and Jocun's sudden chatter around him. Something was wrong here... very wrong. Rathien had used less-than-lethal force... that was a bit unusual, for starters, but explainable. It was strange, though, how quickly Jocun and Parker had jumped to his aid. In fact... they'd both reacted before there was any real sign of danger, hadn't they? Both firing potentially-lethal weapons after no more perceivable threat than a couple of tranquilizer darts out of thin air. And without asking questions, both had been at his side, in an instant. Parker had even apparently dodged a shot from Rathien's gun... how was that possible without predictive shielding? Entroper shots traveled at the speed of light.
The thoughts raced through his head. How could they have known that Rathien was attacking as early as they did? What would have made them choose to defend Salem? Why had Rathien used nonlethal force? Come to think of it, why hadn't Rathien tried to kill him yet altogether? And why had both Jocun and Parker fired continuously at an enemy they could neither see, nor, apparently, hit?
There was no explanation that made sense... unless... Unless they'd known the attack was coming. Unless they'd been purposefully missing.
"You tipped your hand early, Yeerk," he said to Jocun, still on his hands and knees, his eyes pressed shut. He coughed again and got slowly to his feet. "You too, soldier," he said, glaring at Parker. "I don't know if both of you are in this together, but let me make one thing clear- whoever you're working for won't be getting anything out of me until he comes clean with me."
In that moment, Al arrived, and looked around at the gathered group, concerned. "Rathien?" he asked Salem.
Salem nodded, "Fill you in later," he said quietly to the android, before turning back to Parker and Jocun. "Guys, I've used that scam myself. The fake-saving-someone-to-ingratiate-oneself-with-them bit." He glared from one to the other, "You're expecting to help me back to my ship or show me hospitality on yours, and I'll just be so grateful for all your help, I'll bend to whatever proposal you lay down? Don't know what could be so great that Rathien and the two of you would go in together on it, but if that's what's going on here, I want no part in it." He sent a command to his boots, causing them to activate, and began halfheartedly skating in the direction of his ship, half-limping thanks to his hurt leg. He coughed again, then turned and continued skating backwards. He called back, "This definitely explains a lot, though. I'll talk when you guys are ready to be honest with me."
He turned again and skated, harder now, towards his ship. The pain was warring with the chemical boost in his system- he wanted simultaneously to run for miles, track down Rathien and strangle the hunter with his bare hands, and fall asleep on the spot. It was an exhausting sensation. He gritted his teeth- the combined effect of the boost, the tranquilizer, and the blood-loss from his back was starting to make him feel dizzy and nauseated, and his heart didn't seem to want to slow down...
Al raised an eyebrow as he looked back at Salem, muttering something about "endless paranoia," then turned to Parker and Jocun and smiled. "Gentlemen," he said with a slight bow to each of them. "Good Lady," he called to Keshin, with a bit of a salute. "You're welcome to join us," he called to her.
He grinned at Ewa as she arrived on the scene, "Salem got into a fight. Boys will be boys. You know how it goes." With that, he turned to trot after Salem, at a far more normal speed this time, to allow for Keshin and Ewa to easily keep up, should they so choose.
-
Parker shrugged his shoulders as Salem accused both him and Jocun of collaborating, then skated off. He was about to inquire Al of what was going on, but he ran off too. Salem was injured and obviously paranoid, and Al was probably the only one who could effectively speak to him. Parker felt rushing to try to explain the situation would only bolster Salem's paranoia; and he had successfully defended a once friendly acquaintance. The threat was gone, for now; and Parker felt no real reason to have to explain to anyone why he defended others. So he walked back toward the bar and figured he would talk to either Al or Salem at a later time.
He came across Zoshonel and another human/animal hybrid dueling. The hybrid reminded him of Morgan, except this "person" was half horse. Silver was not far spectating the exhibition. He walked up to her and asked, "So what's all this about?"
-
Jocun shook his head. Salem was one paranoid trader. He could never really tell how someone would react to his help. Sometimes they'd be grateful, or insulted, or paranoid like Salem. Whatever the case, no one died when Jocun could have saved them. His conscious was clean. Parker walked off, but not in the direction of the Sub-Visser. Maybe he wasn't a hired bodyguard, though he did a fair job of it. He walked toward the ship to make sure the drunk Sub-Visser was ok, and noticed the hatch was open.
"Hey Sub-Visser! You ok in there? He didn't lay you on your back to let you drown in your own puke, did he?"
"We're just playing." Zoshonel said to Parker. "You want to watch?"
-
Illim grins at Myitt, evidently taking the adorableness of Daniel's ancient pet to also apply to himself.
He turns his eyes on Serid as the Andalite responds to Myitt matter-of-factly, "A small variety of creatures, avian, aquatic and ground dwelling. Most of them are fully domesticated or utilized for labor at this point, although some more exotic species are kept by enthusiasts."
He ****s his head to the side. "They are generally considered a waste of time and resources if not used for work, but are accepted even among the most honorable representatives of the Electorate."
-
"Huh," Chris says, nodding in approval. "And here I thought you Andalites were too uptight to enjoy anything at all. Well, good on you. It's nice to see that you do something relatively normal." He grins at Serid to show that he is, mostly, joking.
A few minutes after the injection Zorish is sitting cross-legged on the floor, the empty syringe by his side. The stimuli has worked its magic, and Tamora is slowly but surely becoming more alert, the toxins of the alcohol being steadily worked out of her system.
<<You are eternally lucky that I am a Sub-Visser and have access to these medications,>> Zorish says to his host. <<Otherwise we could have been unconscious for hours.>>
<<You're the one that made me drink that stuff,>> Tamora responds grouchily. Zorish is about to defend himself when he hears footsteps on the ramp of his ship.
"By the Kandrona, is there ever a dull moment?" he wonders, groaning as he pulls himself shakily to his feet and makes his way out of the small medical bay and into the main cabin. Tamora's balance is not yet wholly improved, and he has to lean against the door frame so that he does not sway. When he spots Jocun, his eyes narrow.
"I wasn't aware of the fact that I had placed a welcome mat at the foot of my ramp," he says flatly, ignoring the human-Controller's question. "Or do you usually invite yourself onto the other's ships?"
-
"Huh," Myitt says, leaning on her arm, finding Tara even more fascinated with the Andalite's reply than she is, herself. "Yeah, I guess the Empire doesn't have much time for pets these days, either."
She bats her eyes at Illim and Daniel. "What do you think? Perhaps a goldfish? Something that enjoys monotony and is difficult to kill." She pauses. "Ah. A beta fish perhaps?"
-
Joannes attempts to locate Rathien, but doesn't stand a chance. Freaking bastard's impossible to track. The forest is an addled mess of smoke grenade and gunshot. Joanne coughs miserably, noting sparks from Salem's odd weapon and following them. By the time she finally can make sense of events, the hunter is apparently long gone. Joanne curses loudly and kicks the dirt. She turns to Salem and mutters, "We were useless to yeh!"
Salem however is already distracted, accusing their host and Parker of collaborating. While Joanne had to admit what they did was weird, Joanne knew the armored guy. He'd shoot anything or anyone if given the excuse. Salem runs off in anger, Al following him.
<Do we trail 'em?>
<No. We could show support and follow, but we have a possible deal here. Salem doesn't know Parker like we do. The other guy, well....he's confusing. We need to figure out if we can trust Jocun to be a supplier.>
"Sorry," mutters Joanne awkwardly. "Salem can be one weird dude. I don' blame him here though. He doesn' know the armored guy. Thas' why he went. Bleedin' hart ruinin' ****."
???******?******************************************************************************
"More acccurately, you were in a state of super-consciousness," States Mar. "You were one with your Highest collaborator. This is not a state a mortal should be in. Avoid such dramatics in the future, War-Prince."
Mar grins a bit, coming to the part he is interested in. At last the idiot was awake! How long could it possibly take to find an adequate personality? Mortals. "Seeing as how you could not have come back on your own......I believe you owe me, Ossanlin. Remember that I never work for nothing, even for you. I don't intend to take you, but I want a favor. "
-
"I'm surprised you're still up. Maybe you can hold your liquor." Jocun said. Though he noticed a tiny amount of blood on the host's arm. "Or maybe you shot yourself up with stimulants. Ok, I know we're not friends and I'm not your superior. I'm not responsible for your wellbeing. Still, you're one of my kind and I wanted to make sure you were all right. Just close the hatch after I leave and get some rest. Stomach down." He said, and descended the ramp.
<Probably what he was going to do anyway. Hopefully he won't do the opposite just because you told him to.> Simon said.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin winces and grimaces as Mar speaks. He can sense a...difference...in the way Mar is addressing him.
<I...see.> He pauses and looks around, nodding at Claxter before looking back at Mar again. <I sense a change in you, Mar. Has your...superbeing.. .decided to terminate its experiment in emotion and ethics in your personal incarnation?> He purposely does not speak of 'owing', and does not ask what it is Mar wishes of him...the other would get to that by himself if he really wanted to. But Ossanlin feels he has a responsibility to understand the change he has already felt from the Mar he knew before even touching on that. Mar, the whole being...is emotionless insofar as Ossanlin can tell, and ruthless to boot...if the incarnation he had befriended had reverted, he would be hard-pressed to pay him any favors...or debts as Mar saw it.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ________________
~Rathien~
Rathien sits for a few moments longer, but the silent alarm on his wrist shifts to phase two. It was bad enough to reach stage one radiation poisoning...Stage zero went from no poisoning to minimal mutations in cell reproduction, but after enough time spent within the camouflage field, the radiation built up. Stage one meant that the mutations during mitosis had become more than negligible and could have some rather...undesirabl e...if rare side effects. Stage two was exponentially worse. Stage two meant that the mutations during mitosis were so bad that the cells produced were completely unviable, in essence completely halting cell division and reproduction. But more importantly Stage two meant the user was that much closer to Stage three when the really nasty stuff started happening. Stage three meant active current cellular decay, destroying functional cells altogether. The dermis was the first layer affected of course, but the saturation level happened almost evenly so one could not be sure if his vasomotor system would fail, or his respiratory system, or his nervous system first. All would in time, but the damage in that case was irreparable, at least by removing the built-up radioactivity.
Rathien quickly shuts down his camo field, allowing the water to close in about him. He puts the rebreather back in his mouth and begins to swim toward the surface of the water. He reaches the surface and breaks through, tapping the buttons on his wristpad that would put the camouflage generator into its cleansing mode. Rathien feels the tingle pass around his body, like a thousand tiny pins barely pricking his skin, but everywhere. While cleansing, the camo could not be used, and even after cleansing should only be used in an emergency situation since the body still needed time to recoup the losses suffered from the over-exposure.
Rathien swims slowly to the shore, only removing his rebreather after lugging himself up on the dark beach. Cleansing could have its own side-effects. He would've waited until he was back aboard his ship to start the cycle, but Stage two demanded immediate action. He manages to stand and locates his ship on his wristpad. He pulls out his liberated ARC and scans the quickest but most obscured route. He uploads the results to his wristpad and begins to walk in the directions indicated. With luck, no one would spot him making his way through the trees. He keeps low just in case.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _
~Raile~
Raile murmurs, sensing a presence, like a warm blanket before he passes from consciousness. His dreams are filled with whiteness all except for a blue speck, calling out to him. The voice he hears belongs to Nev'An. "Don't give in Raile...I know you are strong...I know you will live...I know you will keep the Order alive...forgive them Raile, pity them. Never forget, but also remember that they are the weakest of all, pity them their pain and anguish, and never lose yourself."
Raile wakes up in a flash, blinking, the dream fading from his memory but leaving its imprint. A sense of purpose and...pity for those who had wronged so many. And a warmth, his old Master's voice, but nothing else. Even now it feels as though a weight has been lifted from his heart. The sort of weight one isn't aware of until it is gone, when its absence feels so much better that it seems amazing that you didn't feel it before.
He sits up slowly and looks around the old battlefield. His eyes suddenly light on Garreth, and they widen. He could sense the other much more strongly than before. He could see and feel things about the other Jedi that the Force alone could not account for. The bond is not as strong as the one he'd shared with his old Master, and perhaps only one-way...he has no way to know if the other can sense him in the same way...but he feels as though Garreth has left his own mark inside. After a moment he realizes Garreth is unconscious and lays a hand on his shoulder. He feels...extreme exhaustion from the other Jedi, but nothing worse that he can feel. "Garreth...Garreth, are you injured?" His voice is soft and peaceful...so different from before, but filled with purpose and confidence.
-
Garreth's body didn't move. The toll taken on his body was immense. However he still felt something. He couldn't explain it as he had never experienced it before. It was as though his mind was active while his body was not. He sensed Raile near him, active. He seemed to have a clarity that wasn't there before. He could feel more too; not sense, like with the Force, but actually feel it. He had heard of things like this happening. It was some sort of Bond formed by the Force. Normally it would take years to form such a bond; but it seems the severity of their last interaction sped the process. Garreth could feel the area around him, the taint was still in the battleground. The building they once inhabited, the patrons, he could sense them all. It was a strange experience to subconsciously sense these things, rather than consciously concentrating on feeling them.
Raile was calling to him, he could feel his concern. Garreth tried to put forth an air of peace. If Raile could feel as he could, hopefully it would tell him he was well. His body just needed to gather its strength.
-
Chris rolls his eyes at Myitt and Illim, sensing Keslin's unease. "I think I'll just go see if I can make any new friends at this place while you two make googly eyes at one another," he says, scooting towards the edge of the booth. "You'll let me know if anyone tries to kill you, eh?"
Zorish blinks in surprise as the Controller departs as quickly as he had arrived.
<<I do not trust that one,>> Zorish declares, grunting as he pulls himself away from the doorframe and makes his way to the main computer console. <<He is far too eager to help everyone and anyone.>>
Flumping down into the pilot's chair unceremoniously, Zorish pulls up the holoscreen that will begin liftoff procedures, taking care to close the hatch from any unwelcome visitors. He squints at the Yeerkish lettering, trying to ignore the pounding in Tamora's head.
"Ow, damn it. You'd think the stimulant would take care of the hangover," he flinches against the lights of the holoscreen and leans back, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples with one hand.
<<Maybe there's advil at the bar,>> Tamora suggests hopefully. Zorish laughs in response, a reaction he immediately regrets as it sends stabs of sharp pain through his forehead.
<<Unlikely,>> Zorish says, deciding that the spoken word offers too much pain. <<But it might be worth a try. At the very least there will be water, and you are dehydrated.>>
With a heavy sigh, Zorish pulls himself to his feet and, not two minutes after closing the hatch, opens it and trudges down the ramp, feeling rather as though he has spent his entire time at the bar going in endless circles.
-
Once the hatch closed, Jocun left the ship. He walked towards the bar, as he didn't want to pursue the enemy or try to convince Salem he was on the level. He noticed a Draconian and a Human Horse hybrid outside fighting. Or perhaps just sparring. He stood at the side and watched in mild amusement.
-
Parker saw Jocun approach and regarded him for a moment. He then excused himself and entered the bar. He nodded to Myitt and the human male that stood up from that same table. He took a seat at the bar. Even though he had just been in a firefight, the bar itself seemed rather docile. Parker removed his helmet and ordered a beer.
-
Julian kept his eyes on his opponent and dodged out of the way. His sword in front of him, ready for anything.
"what's this? I thought you wanted to sword fight, not dance!"
-
"Is there much difference between sparring and dancing?" Zoshonel asked. He brought himself up to his full height and took a pose that looked more like what a Human would do than an animal, and approached slowly with his gauntlets forward. If Julien was just going to keep dodging around, he'd stop making lunges and just try to get close enough where he couldn't easily sidestep away.
-
Jade kissed him back deeply. When she gently pulled back she said something in her language and then leaned up and kissed him on his forhead just above the center between his eyes. Magick transferred to his skin. When she pulled back he would have felt a tingle and warmth. Where she kissed him was one of their spell runes. They were now one.
Lucan felt a very strange tingling warmth where Jade had kissed his for head. It also made him feel more connected to her than before. He gazed upon her and smiled with pure love showing in his face.
-
Taking his pilsner with him, Chris makes his way up to the bar, plunking the half-finished beer down next to the man who nodded at him.
"So if you fall over in that, can you get up, or are you like a turtle stuck on your back?" he asks, looking down at the man's armor before taking a swig of beer.
<<Be cautious, Chris,>> Keslin warns, itching to take control. <<He is a stranger, and we do not know who he serves.>>
Zorish takes his time closing the ship back up, ensuring that he cloaks it. As the serum works through Tamora's system, removing the alcohol's effects, his headache and dehydration worsens. Gritting his teeth against the hangover, he turns and heads for the bar, a glass of water at the front of his thoughts.
When he reaches the bar he doesn't bother looking around for anyone - not even Myitt. Instead, he heads straight for an unoccupied corner of the bar, sitting in the shadows and ordering a clean glass of water.
-
Parker lifts an eyebrow at the man's comment and takes a drink before asking, "Friend of Myitt's? She likes to hang around people with a healthy sense of humor. I'm more familiar with her brother. You know her, I'm sure you know him. You're not blue or bladed, so I take it you're a 'controller' as they call 'em then? How has Corliss been anyhow?"
-
Jocun noticed the Sub Visser entering the bar again. He was tempted to follow, but what could he say? The Imperial would just blow him off. Jocun wondered if he'd accept some medicine if he went and got it. Or did the bartender have any? Mybe he should just let the sub Viiser be. His help and company was entirely unwanted.
-
"You know Corliss and Myitt?" Chris raises his eyebrows, surprised. This man must be at the bar fairly regularly to know both of them. Myitt might frequent the bar, but Corliss is rarely in attendance.
<<We still do not know in what capacity they know one another,>> Keslin says. <<Just because he knows them that does not make him a friend.>>
<<I know, Kes,>> Chris says indignantly. <<Just relax, okay? I'm good.>>
"You know," he says to the stranger in armor, "not all of Myitt's friends are Controllers. Just the handsome ones." He grins and offers a hand. "My name is Chris. The quiet slimy guy in my head is Keslin. So you're a regular around here, eh?"
Zorish takes the offered drink eagerly, barely caring about the tell-tale specks of dirt and grime that are floating on the surface. He raises the glass to his lips and downs the entire thing in almost one gulp.
<<These bodies dry out only as badly as our own,>> Zorish comments as he finishes the glass and orders another. The bartender looks displeased, but he gathers a pitcher, fills it with water, and sets it on the counter. Zorish hastily pours himself a second glass.
-
Parker tilted his head, "Sort of. I was stranded here over a year ago. I fought a few battles, helped quite a few people. Then I got trapped on a ship that sent me to a universe completely foreign to my own. It took me the better part of a year to find my way back here. Until I find a ship that can travel through Slipspace, this place is my home. I've seen Hyperspace and Z-space travel, but I haven't been able to find anyone who can enter Slipspace."
Parker put his glass on the counter and smiled, "I guess that was more than you asked, huh?" He extended his right hand, "Chris," he nodded, looking at Chris's forehead, "Keslin, nice to meet you. I'm Parker-821. You know, Keslin, your name reminds me of a bounty hunter that frequents here." His eyes narrow slightly, "You wouldn't happen to be friends, would you?"
-
~Raile~
Raile feels a sense of contentment coming from Garreth and so assumes that the other is not injured, merely resting. He sits back into a meditative position and thinks on how he can sense Garreth. The only conclusion he can come to is that both had exerted a great deal of the Force. In Raile's case, the Force had not been focused, but merely a maelstrom of energy. Pushing himself in such a manner must have truly exposed him, and the raw emotions would've made him susceptible to the Force. Garreth had been trying to purge darkness from Raile, and so the Force that he had been exerting was focused and aimed directly at Raile himself. Perhaps the combination of such things had forged the weak bond as Raile could feel it now. It certainly was not as strong as the bond with his old Master had been, but it was just as certainly more than the mere kinship in the Force that two Jedi normally felt.
Raile takes a few deep breaths and stands, noting Garreth's even breaths. He turns in the direction that his old Master's saber had flown and begins walking, feeling out for it. Finally, several yards away, Raile feels the saber and uses the Force to pull it to his hand. He regards it with momentarily sad eyes. The focusing lens had been destroyed and the crystals knocked out of alignment. But as he focuses further, he finds the lens is not destroyed, merely knocked out of place. He allows himself to feel the mild joy as he returns to the clearing and sits down cross-legged again.
He holds the misaligned hilt out in front of himself with both hands palm up. He slowly levitates the saber into the air a bit and begins dismantling it with the Force. After the pieces are apart, he straightens and corrects the small errors he finds, smoothing dents and dimples with the Force. Then he begins the painstaking process of aligning the power-source with the crystals and lens, feeling the minute hairs of difference with the Force, until everything is as it should be. He then reassembles the lightsaber and allows it to fall back into his hands. He stands and activates it, the clear hiss cutting the silence of the clearing as the saber is brought back to full functionality. He waves it a few times before deactivating it and walking a few meters further away from Garreth.
Raile begins to meditate standing, clearing his mind, and begins flowing from stance to stance in a kata. Without hesitation his flowing hands draw forth both his own lightsaber from over his shoulder, and his old Master's from his belt, and ignites them both. He moves fluidly, allowing the sabers to be a part of himself, the kata resembling more a dance than a fight. Raile's best meditation always seemed to happen when he was in the middle of a saber kata. Even in battle, Raile had always understood more than other times. He's a Guardian through and through, and his lightsabers are expressions of himself, drawing beautiful lines and fans of intense light through the calm air.
-
Garreth senses Raile walking around, probably searching for his master's saber. He feels the remembrances coming from Raile. He recognizes the calming effect of Raile's meditation.
Garreth begins focusing on his own body as he feels strength begin to return to his muscles. He begins to sense less of his surroundings, and more of his motor functions. The forest line dims as well as the bar, as his consciousness reoccupies his body.
-
Keshin boredly follows Jocun toward the Bar, uncertain of his next move. He supposes the plan is to make a deal with Jocun. Maybe later they can tell Salem what they have found. But for now there are two more pressing questions.
"Why exactly did you guys help old Salem?" Asks Keshin with a questioning gaze. "I think his problems are his own unless he pays up front. That Rathien guy seems like a nightmare to deal with. You know that he isn't exactly the most trusting man on Earth. Also..."
Keshin rolls his eyes. "...are you going to deal with us or not?"
****************************************@******************************************
Mar frowns at Ossanlin's question, searching his carried memories. What did the War-Prince mean? He was saner than he'd been for days in the armpit this Bar was. "The Mass states that we have attempted both before. We were summarily rejected by our Precious and lost our mind to jealousy. Following expected rules rarely ends well, and we are forced to act. But...."
One of his actions does not make sense any longer. Why, exactly, did he earlier grant his power to the Andalite? "...so I did behave strangely before infused with the Allstone. Ridiculous. I will not discount it completely, but it seems mad. Regardless, you are extending your reach too far. Move any closer to Him again and I cannot bail you out. What on Earth were you doing? There can be no explanation for our actions and no accord reached if you continue to end up nearly dead."
And Mar wondered why he was trying to ignore the fact that now that Ossanlin was back....a part of him cared.
-
Myitt gives Chris a little finger wriggling wave as he leave their booth.
"I'm sure you'll notice the gunfire," she calls, settling into her drink.
She says nothing for a long moment; then she gives Illim a cautious glance. "Were we really making googly eyes at each other?" she demands. "Damn it, it's getting so I can't even tell!"
-
Keslin slowly slides into control, and his hand begins to tremble in Parker's grasp. He hastily pulls it away and tucks it into his pocket, out of sight.
"I know of no bounty hunter here," Keslin says cautiously. "Myitt has told me stories, or course, but I tend to keep my distance from tureleks. Most would prefer my host's head to a conversation."
"Parker-821 sounds vaguely Yeerkish," Keslin notes. "At least, the numerical designation. You are clearly no Yeerk, though. In your universe are you assigned a birth order as well?"
After his third or fourth glass of water Zorish's headache finally subsides enough that he can spare some attention for the bar as a whole. The patrons do not seem to have changed much. He immediately takes note of the booth where the rebels seem to be chatting amiably, glad that, for the time being, at least, he has put a good amount of distance between them.
<<Are we going to leave soon?>> Tamora asks, and Zorish is glad to see that she has regained a level of coherency.
<<I do not know,>> Zorish admits, his gaze still on the rebels.
<<We aren't going to get anything done here. You can't kill Myitt, especially now. She has a bunch of friends with her. Even if you do kill her, they'll kill us right back.>> Tamora pleads. <<I wanna go home. It's too dangerous here.>>
<<It is dangerous for you on the Blade Ship as well, human,>> Zorish points out impatiently. <<All it takes is one bad report. Do you think I am safe from the Visser's wrath just because I am a Sub-Visser? Besides. When we return he will require a memory dump.>>
<<And that's bad?>>
<<It is...problematic,>> Zorish admits. Truth be told he has never engaged in this much amiable conversation with Tamora. He has allowed her to develop deep feelings for him over the years, helped them along even, to create a more pliable host. But the direction many of their verbal interactions have taken since arriving at the bar...well, they could easily be misconstrued as treason.
-
Myitt peers across the bar at Zorish. "Ah, and look who's back," she murmurs. "I guess being drunk off his ass was getting a little old."
She quickly looks away, fearing she'd make eye contact and instigate another confrontation. With an agitated grumble she feels for the comforting weight of her Dracon inside her jacket.
-
"When someone has been friendly towards me, at least to an extent, and they come under attack, my first reaction is to defend them. What if he had died, and I had actually been able to help? I am not a Visser of the old Empire. Compassion and cooperation are much better suited to keeping my position than ruthlesness. Of course it could come to bite me in the backside, but if it gets really bad I could always either leave or bring some soldiers down."
"Unless you want to be my temporary bodyguard in case that thing comes back, I don't really need any jobs done right now. It seemed entirely focused on Salem, and may actually leave us alone if we aren't around him. "
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin furrows his brow as some of the old Mar comes back through the ether, but only for a moment, at least he can only sense it for a moment. What was this Allstone he was talking about? <I was...> Ossanlin racks his brain as thoughts return to full cogency and his memories return as well. <...I was...reverting Terenia to her human form.> Ossanlin grimaces. <I thought myself no closer than before...perhaps the fight...the one where I drew upon you opened a conduit of some sort. I had more energy flowing through me then than ever before...if my...connection...w ith the Ellimist follows any accepted rules of physics, perhaps it was forced wider, or closer. I cannot say I have experience in the matter.>
He glances at Claxter. <Terenia survived then?>
-
<Yes sir. To my knowledge she is alive.> Claxter said apathetically. <I'm just happy you are also alive, and hopefully will soon recover.>
-
Okay, character sheet *cracks knuckles*
Name: Ishlar Ven Hyrnex of the Gype Silar pool
Rank: Very recent promotion to sub visser 289.
Host: An unnamed Gedd.
Personality: A sociopath on the level of William Roger Tennan'ts yeerk. He despises hosts, having been denied one for most of his life until a lucky promotion allowed him a Gedd.
History: Uneventful life with no real accomplishments.
Ishlar limped into the bar. This was only a temporary stop, so that the ship could refuel. He hated everything about the barely populated rock of a planet, but his host was hungry and had recently begain complaining about the ships food. He sat at an unnocupied table and called the bartender over.
Then his eyes locked onto Jocun. The Gedd's fists clenched and the eyes seethed with fury. "Give me brrrrrr biggest knife you have.." He hissed, considering the pros and cons of stabbing a high ranking visser to death.
-
Zorish raises his eyebrows slightly as he meets Myitt's gaze for a split second. Even after she looks away he continues directing his gaze toward their booth, simultaneously amused and disquieted.
After a few seconds of consideration he finishes his fifth tumbler of water and stands up.
<<Uh, what are you doing Zorish?>> Tamora asks nervously.
Zorish ignores her and begins striding over to the booth.
<<Zorish? Zorish, have you forgotten the part where she shot us!?>> Tamora cries more urgently.
<<I have forgotten nothing,>> Zorish replies, pulling up short in front of the booth. His eyes flicker across the inhabitants. Two rebels and the suspected Andalite nothlit.
"Strange company you traitors keep," Zorish says, indicating Serid. "I was under the impression that you rebels were about as fond of Andalites as the rest of us."
Keslin's attention is temporarily pulled away from Parker as he notices the Terenia look-alike move towards his friends. He follows her with his eyes, his trembling hand sliding out of his pocket and to the Dracon at his side.
When it seems clear that the Sub-Visser is not making an attack he relaxes ever so slightly, but shifts in his seat so that he can watch Myitt's booth as well as Parker.
-
Parker replies, "You're right, it's not Yeerkish. I had a last name when I was born; but I was recruited into the military and given a new designation. I was eight years old then." Parker takes a drink and notices Chris's attention shifts. He looks behind and sees Tamora walking toward Myitt. He sees Chris's hand move toward his hip and grabs his helmet. He hugs it to his side with his free hand, his drink still in the other.
Parker spins his seat around so he can watch the encounter openly. The chair makes a grinding sound as it wasn't made to support that much weight and slide at the same time. He stares at the booth and leans his head toward Chris, "What's the story there? I know she's Terenia's sister and all; but I thought Myitt and Corliss were on her side. You act as though Tamora's gonna start something."
-
"Not Tamora," Keslin murmurs. "Sub-Visser...ah...Twenty-Eight, I believe." He glances at Parker. "I don't know the full story of their presence here, and what I do know is, frankly, impossible. The only thing that's important is that she is wearing an Imperial uniform, and the Imperials are most certainly not our friends. There is a very good chance that he will start something, if it means a promotion."
<<If you need to draw you better give me control,>> Chris says. <<I don't want your damned shaking to mess up the shot.>>
-
Parker nodded, "Fair enough. I would suggest a low setting though. Terenia may not take the news of her sister's death well."
-
Jocun noticed a Gedd controller pass into the bar, and wondered what timeline this Yeerk was from. He got a look through th door at it, and it didn't look too happy about something. Maybe a later time would be better for him to introduce himself.
-
Myitt squints up at the Sub-Visser. "How nice of you to come over and insult our ally," she says flatly, nodding at Serid.
She scoots closer to the edge of the booth so Zorish doesn't get the impression he's invited to sit down.
"What exactly do you want, Zorish?" she asks, exasperated.
The bartender, pale and sallow and maybe a middle-aged man with black hair and an apron, slowly notices he's being addressed from across the room. He moves with the eerie, mechanical speed of a clockwork puppet.
He stares balefully from behind cold, black eyes at the Gedd-Controller, and continues to dry the smudged tumbler with a soiled rag. Carefully, he sets the glass down.
He takes out the little notepad and clicks his pen, scribbling on the paper. This he holds up in the Gedd's general direction. If the Gedd were to approach and read the notepad, it would say, in standard Galard, 'Cash or Tab?'
He makes no move to come around the side of the bar.
-
"Terenia is a soldier," Keslin says with a shrug. "She knows the risks of war. I will not kill needlessly, but I will not allow my people to be threatened."
He glances at Parker. "The Yeerk Empire could do with one less Sub-Visser."
"Nothing," Zorish says flatly. "I want nothing from you. Nothing that you are able to give, at least. I suppose I could ask for my life back, and for that of my host, but that would be foolish, no?" He laughs hoarsely, and realizes Tamora's throat is already dry again. He swallows hard.
Glancing downward he sees Myitt scoot over, blocking any entry to the booth. Scowling, Zorish reaches over to the nearest table and grabs a rickety chair, placing it at the end of the booth and sitting.
"I seem to have made a grave mistake in contacting you," he says slowly, glancing at the others before settling his gaze back on Myitt. "One that leaves me in a delicate situation that I fear has no solution."
-
I made my hosts lips mouth "Cash"
-
No sooner had Ewa finally managed to catch up with Al then he took off after... an air-gliding cowboy? He said Salem? She stopped for a moment and her breath wooshed out of her in one huge sigh. Does no one here get embarrassed ever? She opened her mouth to ask something--though something rather less blunt and offensive--of the others who had apparently been part of the fight, but they were already dispersing. Ewa recognized Keshin heading back towards the bar and hesitated for another moment. She wasn't anywhere near as rude and inappropriate as Al has been, but.... she did seem rather new. And I still don't have a legitimate excuse to hire her.
After one last look and a resigned sigh, Ewa took off after Al again. He seemed to be going slower this time, so she might actually catch up if they were going far enough.
-
Parker accepted Chris's views, but held onto his own, replying, "Very well."
He notices a strange monkey-like creature enter and take a seat. The little guy was staring daggers at Jocun. Parker raised his eyebrow, but ignored the strange being. He resumed watching the events unfold at the booth across the way.
Parker leans toward Chris and asks, "So how did they get Tamora here anyway? Last I heard, Terenia was going on about how impossible it was to rescue her."
-
Keslin sighs a little, relaxing ever so slightly as he sees the Sub-Visser take a seat.
<<You know, there are three of them,>> Chris points out. <<We don't need to play body guard.>>
<<I'm just being cautious,>> Keslin argues. <<Reven would not be pleased if his brother was taken out by a ghost.>>
Turning his attention back to Parker, he shrugs. "As I said, I do not know the full details. I only just met Terenia recently and the circumstances of her arrival on base seem to be convoluted at best. From what I understand, she-" he gestures at Tamora, "-and the Sub-Visser were both killed during some sort of mission that ended badly." Goosebumps crawl up his host's forearms. "It appears that what is dead cannot stay dead - at least in the context of this place. Not a happy thought."
-
Parker furrowed his brow and asked, "'Killed'? She's right here in front of us. How could she have been killed and yet be right here before us?"
Parker had been gone for quite some time. The last he saw either Corliss or Myitt, they were about to go on the mission to save Tamora. What must have occurred during his absence boggles his mind. Parker quickly connects a few far fetched loose ends and snaps to. He exclaims quietly, "Tamora regards Myitt so cruelly, so she must have been the one to carry the guilt for their death. Tamora must want some sort of revenge for her death. However her actions show she has rather given up on a frontal confrontation. She either tried previously, or realizes she's greatly outnumbered against Myitt's friends. So words is the only choice she has left."
Parker shrugs, "Well, I suppose they might resolve a few things that way. I still have no idea how Tamora could've returned from the dead; but I suppose that's a question for someone more knowledgeable." He takes a drink still pondering the situation. He places his helmet back on the bar, but stays watching the bar and Myitt's booth.
-
The competition didn't seem to be going very quickly, so Jocun went inside the bar. the Sub visser was talking to someone, so it didn't seem to be a pleasant conversation. He walked over to the bar and sat down two stools away from the Gedd and ordered a coca cola after putting some money down. "Hello there. I saw that rather unsavory look you gave me. Care to elaborate?" He asked with a pleasant tone in his voice.
-
Keslin gives Parker an irritated look. "I told you, it isn't Tamora that I'm concerned with. For all we know, nothing we have seen has been her. It's the Sub-Visser who is presumably seeking revenge for...for his own death. Or was seeking revenge." He shakes his head. "I told you, it makes no sense, but I'm not about to spend my time trying to figure it out. This place-" he gestures to the bar at large, "-tends to make little sense."
He scowls down at his shaking hands, uncertain. Balling them into fists they steady as he allows Chris to take control.
"Parker, man," Chris says, swiveling back around to grab his beer, always keeping an eye on the booth. "I know it's hard to tell sometimes, but those of us with slimy friends...or slimy enemies...in our heads - so not the same person. You were talking to Keslin a moment ago. You're talking to Chris now. As much as I'm friends with the bugger, I most certainly am not the same person as him." He gestures over to the booth. "That girl, Tamora, is in there somewhere, but she's not controlling that body. The Sub-Visser is the one that brought them here, and the Sub-Visser is running the show. Tamora is just along for the ride, whether she likes it or not."
-
Parker raises his head in understanding. He thought Chris had sounded slightly different than earlier. Normally, he'd have Thor's reports to tell whether host or Yeerk were speaking; but as his helmet was off, he only had his ears and wits to go off of. Unless he's truly listening for the changes, it's unlikely he'll notice any. Unless the Yeerk's speech patterns differ greatly from the host's of course.
Parker slightly shakes his head in indifference, "Look, they both inhabit the same body; and the only name I know of either of them is Tamora's. I realize they're different people. I only had one name to reference the pair. Either way, if he died, then she died as well, right? Wouldn't it stand to reason that they'd both want some form of retribution?" He takes a last swig of his beer and places it next to his helmet.
-
"Yeah, well, I'm real sorry about your problems, Sub-Visser," Myitt drawls. "But there isn't much I can do about them. We've been over this, you might not even be from the same universe as us." She jabs a thumb at her chest and takes a sip of redin.
"Anyway," she continues with a shrug, "I only shot you in self-defense. Both times."
The bartender watches the Gedd-Controller from across the room. To normal human hearing it would be hard to make out what the creature mouthed from this distance, but the bartender recognizes the word all too well.
Mirthlessly he turns the page on his notepad, scribbles a large question mark, and holds up the paper.
To anyone who views it, the message would be clear in their language and manner of understanding: 'What do you want?'
-
Chris shrugs. "Maybe," he says. "Or maybe Tamora is glad that she died, if it meant that the Yeerk died with her. Slavery is a funny thing. It does things to people." He watches the Sub-Visser talk to Myitt for a moment. "I wouldn't assume anything, though. "Certainly not that an Imperial is actually working with his host."
"Self-defense? I did not attack you," Zorish hisses, his lip curling angrily before he forces his expression to calm once more. He inhales, then exhales slowly. "I fear I cannot return home," he says, looking at the whorls of the wooden counter instead of the rebel. "And it is entirely your fault."
-
Parker nodded in agreement. He then asked, "But how did your rebellion start; if not Imperials working with your hosts?" After a deep sigh, he grabs his helmet and replaces it upon his head. He reads the reports Thor scrolls before him about the patrons' vitals and other scans taken.
-
"I'm not saying it doesn't happen," Chris allows. "But most Yeerks who are host sympathizers are too scared to do anything about it. That in and of itself is a death sentence, nevermind actually acting on it and leaving the Empire. Even so, for every sympathizer there are twice as many loyal Imperials. Maybe more. I suppose there is a chance that Tamora and her Yeerk work together, but I wouldn't count on it. Especially since he's a Sub-Visser."
Chris finishes his beer and slides the mug away on the table top. "They seem to get nastier as they go up in ranks, eh? I willing to bet that Sub-Visser is a piece of work."
-
Parker nods, "Those in high ranks fight their asses off to earn, and keep them. It's not unusual for them to have to burn a few bridges to get there."
He looks to Chris and asks, "So how'd you end up in the rebellion?"
-
Chris raises his eyebrows, considering the stranger before responding. "We've been with the rebellion since it started," he says after a moment. "Give or take an exile of about a decade. We only recently returned to them."
He raises his hand, trying to catch the bartender's attention so that he can order a second beer.
-
"It's not my fault you've realized you and your host actually get along," Myitt says defensively, glaring at the Sub-Visser. "What's keeping you from going back? Guilt? Actually being honest with yourself?"
The bartender eyes Chris warily. With slow movements he sets about pouring another beer. Foam pours over the tankard as the man-shaped thing walks around the bar counter to the table where Chris and Parker are conversing.
He sets the beer down sloppily and slinks back behind the bar.
-
"Honest with myself? My host is voluntary, of course we 'get along'. That does not mean that I consider her to be an equal to me," Zorish says stubbornly, fingers curling around the edge of the table strong enough to turn Tamora's knuckles white. "If I were able to I would return in a heartbeat, but...as it is..." he falters, then sighs in disgust.
"My mission here was unauthorized. Usually, as a Sub-Visser, I am exempt from memory dumps. Unfortunately after a leave such as this the same exemptions will not apply. There are...conversations ...that could be problematic for the Visser to catch wind of." He scowls. "I am not a traitor, but you know as well as I do that memory dumps do not capture intent or emotion, merely words and actions."
<<Are you saying that you were lying when you told me you wanted to protect me?>> Tamora demands.
<<No, of course not,>> Zorish hisses in response. <<That's not what I...nevermind, human. You wouldn't understand.>>
<<You're lying,>> Tamora says, just as stubborn as her Yeerk. <<You always call me 'human' when you're trying to hide something from me.>>
-
Salem skated towards his ship, the ramp opening as he approached. The more he rolled the events of the last few minutes around in his head, the angrier he became. He took some small comfort in noting that the beeping that represented Rathien's proximity to him was nice and slow, and that, when he briefly closed his eyes, his new sense could detect no one near him.
This game with Rathien has to end now...
He skated up the ramp, deactivated his boots, and began shedding clothing and equipment on the floor. After a moment, he paused, looked down at the pile that now included his coat which had been sliced open, his hat, and his belt and holster. He hesitated briefly before gathering up the pile and moving towards the back wall of the ship, to the left of the open ramp. A doorway seemed to simply grow from the wall itself, revealing what could conceivably be construed as a closet, and Salem walked inside. As he stepped in, the doorway closed behind him.
Al looked back over his shoulder and stopped to allow Ewa to catch up.
"Man, he does not seem happy," he said, jerking a thumb towards Salem. "Don't know what happened out here, but I'd much rather be off somewhere having fun than dealing with it." He began walking again towards the ship. "So tempted to just run off to the lake and go fishing for a while."
-
Myitt pounds a fist onto the table, rattling the glasses. "But you do want her to be equal to you," Myitt insists, just as stubborn. "Why do you find that so hard to admit? Why is it so difficult to recognize that you care about her, as more than just a ****ing puppet?"
-
Jocun overheard some of the conversation between the sub Visser and the other person. Talking about hosts. The other person was a rebel, and they were discussing contradicting ideologies. The rebels of the past were like historical figured of Human history. What countryman would pass up the opportunity to say hello to one of the founding fathers of said country? Though now probably wasn't the best moment. Still, he couldn't help glancing in their direction once in a while.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien moves as quickly towards his ship as he can manage in such a concealed, defensive position. After what seems an eternity skulking through the underbrush, he reaches his vessel out in the woods. He unlocks it and commands the ramp to lower. He ascends and closes the ramp behind himself, arming the ship's active proximity detectors.
Rathien goes back to the med-bay and enters the self-med booth, commanding the computer to run a full diagnosis and treatment of his wounds. Not only would it accelerate the residual radiation cleansing process considerably, it would remove any foreign antigens that had entered his body, and increase the rate of healing for the fairly mild blunt trauma wounds that Salem's weapon had incurred.
-
Zorish jumps, surprised by Myitt's strong reaction. Sudden, inexplicable anxiety seizes him as he watches her, as he reads his host's quick agreement with the rebel.
"I cannot be a traitor," he says slowly. He releases his grip on the side of the table and is appalled to see that his hands are shaking. "My host's infatuation with me is...is inappropriate. I only allow it because it makes her easier to...to..."
He trails off, unable to finish the statement, and swallows hard. "I am not a traitor," he repeats in a thin, almost pleading voice.
<<Is it so bad to admit you actually enjoy my company?>> Tamora pipes up, both hopeful and hurt. <<You've already said that you can't go back. What further harm can it do?>>
<<Be quiet, you aren't making this any easier for me.>>
<<I'm always quiet,>> Tamora protests. <<Maybe I shouldn't be this time.>>
Zorish's expression twists into one of frustration. Propping his elbows on the table he buries his head in his hands, as if that could eliminate her voice.
<<You need me just as much as I need you, don't you?>> Tamora presses. <<Don't you?>>
"Shut up," he hisses aloud in a low voice, trying to ignore the churning in his stomach. It is just the alcohol, he tells himself.
-
Parker sees Tamora's general depressed gestures and decides that hostilities would be unlikely. He continues to look out upon the bar patrons, though. He turns to Chris and asks, "Exile? Self-imposed, or did you do something they didn't like?"
-
I mentally signed in resignation. A knife would be useless against a human controller who was a aware of my presence. "A dry medley." This is a lesser known dish. The yeerk equivalent to what humans call salad. It was a rare treat for gedds to the rarity of the plants in the past, but recently our conquering of the galaxy has allowed for focus on growing massive amount of plants and increasing breeding speed of cattle. I turned to the human.
"You should be able to take BRRRRRR guess. What you represent to me, is someone who;s trying to fight for the rights of hosts. Something I BRRRRR was denied until very recently."
-
Jocun's attention returned to the Gedd. "Ah, you're from my time. There are very few reasons why someone would be denied a host. The main being that the administrators deemed you incompatible with mainstream views on Yeerk-host relationships. But here you are with a starter host to prove that your disposition towards them has improved." He said. "Just remember we rule with benevolence because we need them. So, what brings you here?"
-
"A little bit of both," Chris murmurs darkly, then quickly changes the topic. "So wherever it is you're from doesn't have Yeerks, huh?"
He glances back at Zorish, quickly reaching a similar conclusion as Parker and turning more fully away. "But you're human. And a fairly capable soldier, from the looks of it. What's going down on your version of Earth that requires all that armor, eh?"
-
Myitt sighs, watching Zorish with a thin-lipped expression of understanding.
"I didn't think I was a traitor, either," she says, although she's not really sure if Zorish is still listening. "I still don't think I'm a traitor. What good can our people come to if we content ourselves with conquest after conquest? When are we going to realize that we can't subjugate people who are our equals for our own benefit? If you keep telling yourself that Tamora is your slave, what good does it do either of you, living that lie?"
-
Parker hears Chris's toned answer and doesn't resist the topic change. He answers, "My Earth is going through an invasion of a different sort. The aliens attacking us want nothing more than our complete eradication from the stars. They've destroyed countless lives and many planets in the pursuit of killing us off. Their weapons systems are so far advanced beyond our technology, hell, beyond their own really. We don't put up much of a fight in small numbers. Originally, my brethren and I were designed to be the perfect police force. Human expansion into space was beginning to erode our species' cohesion. A group of Insurrectionists were fighting against the UNSC and we were created to quell those forces. However, before we were really able to do much policing, the alien race found us and started to destroy us. We SPARTANs were then refocused on fighting the new invasion force."
-
Zorish glares up at Myitt from between strands of Tamora's hair. "It isn't the same," he insists, curling his fingers so that Tamora's nails are digging into her scalp, as though he could pry her feelings for him out of their shared mind. And his feelings for her.
"This can't be my reality," he continues. "Don't you understand, rebel? I'm a Sub-Visser, not some low-level peon whose absence will barely be noted. The consequences of -- if I --" He growls wordlessly, the tension going out of his shoulders abruptly.
"I am in so much trouble," he whispers shakily, sounding for a moment more like the human girl he is inhabiting than the Yeerk officer that he is.
Chris laughs appreciatively. "Damn. That sounds like quite a mess. I almost prefer mine, although it'd be pretty awesome to score some armor like that. How's it do against Dracons?"
-
"Maybe they won't perform a memory dump on you, after all?" Myitt says with a shrug, trying to be at least marginally helpful. "And if you're certain they will, you could always just...live on the fringe. It's not easy, but it's possible. Plenty of Yeerks live on the greed of the Skrit Na."
-
"Refueling and biological needs." He didn't understand. I was overlooked. Simply forgotten about. Pushed into the void of the system.
-
"Well, congratulations on your promotion then." he said. It was probably best that this one leave soon. Knowing much about this place would be risky, and this guy served a different Visser than him. Sure he was high ranking, but it was never a good idea to push your weight around in the empire. Bad for PR, which was everything in politics.
-
Parker shrugged, "I don't know. I've never confronted someone who fought with one. I have an energy shield that should, theoretically, absorb most of the damage. My armor after that would hold out substancially before giving way. And after that, I'd be somewhat vulnerable. We can withstand and fight through a lot of pain. I've broken an Elite's neck while being an inch away from death myself. Luckily evac showed up and got me outta there before they could finish me.
"I think the biggest trick for most people is actually being able to hit us. We're very fast and our senses are heightened beyond most. Again, though, I don't know the specifics of your weapons, so I don't really know how I'd fair. How have you survived most of your encounters?"
-
"Why BRRRR thank you." He was being nice. Too nice. I had insulted him and he had returned with kindness. He was either a better man than me, or was already plotting my slow painful downfall. The latter seems far more likely. "Will my silverware be enough to kill him." I wondered to myself.
-
"Sheer dumb luck," Chris says with a laugh. "Naw, Kes and I have spent a lot of time fighting with ships, going undercover and whatnot. Not so many shootouts. I doubt we'd fare too well, to be honest. Keslin's reaction time is ****ty as hell, but I'm a good shot, but there are a lot more of them than there are of us. Most of what we do is play a really good game of hard to get."
"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Zorish snaps. "To have me living like some vagabond, begging those sentient ****roaches for help. I bet you would love to carry that story back to your base."
He sits up straight, rubbing his arms, suddenly cold. "No," he says. "That's not acceptable. It's not fair to me, and it isn't...it isn't fair to her either." He struggles to say the words, avoiding Tamora's name.
-
Myitt sighs, impatient. "Then go back to the Empire," she insists. "Because you're not coming with us, that's for damn sure."
In punctuation she picks up her glass of liquor and swallows the last of the bitter red liquid.
-
"I can't," Zorish hisses. "If I go back there and they do a memory dump they'll kill me as a traitor for so much as humoring her, let alone having full conversations with her that are remotely civil!" He scowls.
"And if they kill me they'll give her to someone else. Someone that will treat her like...like..." He swallows.
-
Jocun felt a bit sad for the Emperial. He seemed to be making steps in the right direction, but the Empire would kill him for it and the rebels wouldn't take him because he hadn't gone far enough in the right direction. A thought did come to him. He walked over to the table. "Sorry to interfere, but I don't suppose a memory wipe would help? Or perhaps a few fake memories. My technology is a century or so ahead of yours, and it's pretty effective."
-
Myitt stares blankly at Jocun, but looks back at Zorish. No technology from centuries ahead would help the Sub-Visser's plight.
"Then don't give her up," she insists. "You have your options. Go back and risk the worst, or live outside of the Empire. I don't know what crying about it will do, you've burned your bridges effectively with us."
-
"I've burned bridges?" Zorish asks incredulously. "You're the one who killed me, in whatever timeline or universe that happened in! You're the one who shot me, you're the one who-"
He cuts off, pinching the bridge of Tamora's nose and forcing himself to calm down. "Fine. Maybe there's nowhere for me. But what about her? Are you going to punish her too?"
-
Parker nodded with a smile, though his helmet hid it, and replied, "Well then you certainly could use some sort of armor. Unfortunately for you, if you were to try this armor on, your body would be torn to pieces. The limbs are powered, so the force exerted on your limbs would exceed their capacity. Many men have died trying to use our suits during their development. The only reason we survive is because we have been genetically and surgically augmented."
-
The Sub Visser seemed too involved with his conversation to acknowledge Jocun, so Jocun sat back down in a nearby booth, listening.
-
"No," Myitt says dully. "I don't like causing people pain, you might be surprised to know. But if you care about each other, what's the harm in staying together as outcasts? Surely that's better than being forced apart."
-
"Right, don't steal the suit. Got it," Chris says with a nervous laugh. "It's all good, I like to have a little mobility, you know? I can't imagine wandering around stuffed in armor all day like some old fashioned knight or whatever."
Zorish shakes his head. "I am not going to subject her to that." His own words make him pause. He can feel a sort of strange tightness in his chest, talking about Tamora as though she were more than a mere vessel. It is almost a relief, but at the same time it terrifies him.
Swallowing, he shrugs, a little helplessly. "I have spent my entire life within the Empire," he says. "I do not know how to survive outside of it, and I do not want to risk my failure hurting Tamora."
There. He had said her name. Somehow that simple acknowledgement, out loud, sends a shiver down his spine.
-
"Well, this might not be coming from the most encouraging example, but I didn't know how to live outside of the Empire when I was forced to leave it, either," Myitt says lightly. "And yes, I was forced to leave it, although I felt much the same way as you about my host. Perhaps...not to the same degree, but we were and are close friends."
-
"You have no idea how I feel about my host," Zorish says tightly. Then, a little softer. "I have no idea how I feel about her. Just that...I do not want harm to come to her."
He bites his lip. "You may have had no idea how to survive, but you had a rebellion to run to," Zorish says. "An option I do not have at my disposal."
-
"I don't know what to tell you, Sub-Visser," Myitt sighs. "Live out here on your own, go back and risk the consequences..." She shrugs. "You couldn't even come with us if we asked you. We might break the space-time continuum."
-
"Don't call me that," Zorish snarls. The rank that he had spent years working to earn suddenly sounds like a joke to his ears. A mockery.
Running a hand through Tamora's hair he tries to get a grip on this new reality that he has been dealt. "I need to remove all Imperial tracers from my ship," he murmurs more to himself than Myitt, although he is certainly speaking loud enough for her to hear. "We'll need food. And Kandrona. I only have enough for..." he pauses to think. "Three or four cycles."
He glances down, seeming to notice his Imperial-issued uniform for the first time. A finger traces the logo. New clothes as well, he thinks.
Not entirely sure how he got from trying to kill Myitt to asking for her assistance he regards her warily. "Help me with this much, at least?" he asks plaintively. "For her sake, if not mine?"
-
Myitt scoffs and rolls her eyes. "For all I know, giving you a pair of jeans will break the space-time continuum," she murmurs, regarding Zorish. "Fine. I can give you a couple of packs of protein and some dried food, and without risking my own health I think I can spare a couple of portable generators. Maybe a packet of nutrients. You'll be fine without the aminos for a little while, at least. As for the tracers, I am not going to rummage around your ship and let you try to backstab me. I'll help you, Zorish, but we're not pals, alright?"
-
Parker laughs some at Chris's comment about mobility. He replies to him while still keeping tabs on the conversation between Tamora and Myitt. A conversation that seems to be improving in both their favors. He says to Chris, "You don't know about true mobility until you've been in this armor. Especially once paired with an A.I." he taps his helmet to signify the Artificial Intelligence construct inside his armor, "I'm fast, agile; with the armor, I'm more so; with the A.I, I can catch an RPG shot at my head, redirect it and send it back."
-
Zorish nods, grateful, knowing better than to push his luck.
<<Are we really leaving the Empire?>> Tamora asks, her own thoughts filled with anxiety.
<<It would appear so,>> Zorish says.
<<How will we survive? How will you survive?>> Tamora asks fearfully. <<The Kandrona will run out eventually, even if they give us some. Back home we're safe. That's what you've always told me.>>
<<Circumstances appear to have changed,>> Zorish murmurs. <<We'll get as much as we can from these rebels and...figure things out from there.>>
<<Myitt already killed you once. What if she gives you poison, or bad generators, or-->>
<<Enough.>> Zorish's throat constricts with their shared anziety. <<It is a risk we must take. Maybe...perhaps...>> An idea comes to him, but it is one that seems so outrageous and so entirely unImperial that he almost disregards it entirely.
No, he chides himself. It may be the difference between life or death, in the long run.
He clears his throat. "Alright," he says, nodding again to Myitt in agreement to her terms. Licking his lips, he continues, his voice slightly strained. "I need to feed," he says. "Ta-" His voice catches in his throat. "Tamora will handle the negotiations. Perhaps that will give you less concern about my stabbing you in the back."
<<What!?>> Tamora cries, alarmed.
-
Jocun was impressed with the Yeerk's turn to a more rebel-friendly ideal. if it wasn't just a facade at the very least. he wasn't sure if this is how the rebels operated normally, or if they did different things depending on the circumstances. The former sub visser's change did seem a little abrupt, but he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. If this was a common rebel meeting place, why didn't it already have a supply of kandrona? Were there really things the bartender wouldn't just produce from the back if asked and paid? "Kandrona is food." He said quietly to himself. "Hey bartender. You don't keep kandrona stocked?"
-
The bartender stares at Jocun, having gone back to drying a glass. After a few empty seconds, the blank look appears to be a negative answer to Jocun's question.
"Fine," Myitt says tersely. "I'll believe it when you leave your host." She watches the Sub-Visser through narrowed eyes. "Now. Ah, don't be scared Sub-Visser. I won't hurt you, and I'll make sure you're promptly returned to your ship." She crosses her heart. "Scouts' honor."
-
Zorish blanches. "Leave her here?" he asks incredulously. "No, that's impossible. I'll return to my ship on my own. Tamora can return and continue this discussion."
<<Zorish, I don't know what to say to them!>> Tamora says desperately. <<They're murderers. They're...they're rebels and...and she killed you, Zorish!>>
<<Tamora, I need you to do this for me,>> Zorish says, beginning to lose his patience.
"Well good on you," Chris says with a low whistle. "I think I'll stick to my trusty Dracon." He pats his holster fondly. "It hasn't steered us wrong yet."
-
"For what it's worth, there are at least two people in this room to help ensure that you don't get killed again." He said to Zorish while glancing at Parker.
-
Myitt curls her lip in mistrust and annoyance. "Okay. Go feed, and send your human pet back to me. Excuse me, I meant human companion."
She irritably sips her drink. Glancing over at Jocun, she growls in even further irritation.
"Okay, that's it," she snaps, standing and throwing the liquor out of her glass towards Jocun's face, keeping hold of the glass itself. "Go away! Shoo!"
-
Zorish swallows back his irritation at Myitt's visceral reaction, but before he has the opportunity to respond she has turned her attention to the overly helpful Imperial.
"Yeah," he breathes, also standing. "Um...she'll be...she'll be back." Casting a quick glance around the bar he hurries away before he can lose his nerve completely.
<<Zorish, please, don't make me do this,>> Tamora begs as he strides across the bar. <<Please, I don't know how...I haven't ever done anything like this before.>>
<<Tamora,>> Zorish tries to keep his internal voice calm. <<I have spent a long time trying to protect you and keep you safe. But if we are going to succeed at this, I need you to start helping yourself.>>
He glances back at Myitt once more, pushes the door to the bar open, and steps out into the night.
-
Splashing him in the face was a shock. Such indignation, and from someone he had kind of thought better of, that he didn't know how to respond. He was in shock. He realised he did interrupt their conversation, but this was just disrespectful. What was the proper response? He found himself laughing a bit. This rebel was just a regular person. not someone to be put on a pedestal. He felt he should retaliate, and his drink had been recently filled, so he slung it at her. Who knows what mistake that may be?
-
Myitt ducks to the side, but some of the drink catches her in her jacket shoulder nonetheless.
"Yes, that's right, act like a foolish grub for butting into our private conversation and getting what is deserved of eavesdroppers," she sneers, sitting down and refilling her drink with the full intent of actually drinking it this time.
-
Since the rebel wasn't too interesting in bar fighting, Jocun got up to leave and clean himself off. He went to his ship, showered, and changed clothes.
-
Zorish hesitates as soon as he crosses the threshold of the bar, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. When he sets off again it is with renewed purpose as he instructs Tamora.
<<Make sure that you lock the ship and cloak it. No one is to get inside beyond yourself. Do not allow the rebels to enter under any circumstances, while I am in the pool.>>
Compared to the earlier commotion, it is quiet in the shipyard. Zorish can hear Tamora's boots crunching over the gravel.
<<When you return to the bar, speak only to Myitt. Get as many supplies from her as you can.>>
<<Zorish, I can't->>
<<You can. You must. She will trust you alone more than she will trust us together. The more we have now the better off we'll be. We don't have a rebellion to fall back on. We have eachother, and that is it.>>
He stops in front of the ship, uncloaking it and extending the ramp.
<<Can you do this for me?>> he asks, ascending the ramp. Tamora does not answer, but Zorish can see that she will try. Satisfied that he has done all he can he closes the hatch and strides into the pool room.
<<I am trusting you,>> he says, and for the first time in his life he truly is putting his trust in a host, in a human girl.
Swallowing hard he ignores the host shackle attached to the pool, tilts his head to the side, and begins to slither free.
-
Myitt sits back down in a huff. "Honestly. The clientele in this place has gone to the dogs." She refills her glass with a sour expression.
-
As soon as Zorish's body plops into the pool, Tamora's body starts to tremble. She grips the side of the pool for balance, slowly straightening herself. She stares at the small slug that has become her entire life, watching as he scrunch-thrusts his way deeper into the pool.
"Okay," she whispers, her voice shaking. "Okay. I can do this. I can..." She bites her lip and closes the cover to the pool. Checking her holster she sees that Zorish's Dracon is still in place, but this fact only makes her stomach churn. She has never shot a weapon on her own before.
Moving rigidly, she moves out of the pool room, closing the door behind her. Opening the hatch again she walks to solid ground, taking care to follow Zorish's instructions precisely.
"Dear God, don't let me screw this up," she whispers, turning back towards the bar. She moves hesitantly, and when she reaches the door she is tempted to run back to the ship, but she forces herself to enter the bar, her eyes immediately drawn to the table with Myitt.
"Okay. Okay. Come on." The words sound strange coming out of her mouth with her own inflection instead of Zorish's. She swallows, working her jaw, trying to get a feel for her own body - so unfamiliar to her after so many years.
Rigidly, she takes the seat that Zorish left at the booth. She stares at Myitt with wide eyes, not sure how to start the conversation, terrified of this rebel Yeerk.
-
Parker sees the drink exchange and stands, ready for escalation. When nothing progresses, he sets back down. Jocun was becoming less and less a viable ally, and more an annoyance. He had a great deal to learn about listening in on private conversations, especially ones you've been ignored out of. He definitely needed to learn that when you're called out on your own rudeness, to back away, not retaliate. Parker shook his head and chuckled to himself as the man walked out of the bar. He kept his attention to Myitt's booth and nodded downward toward her. Whether she needed him or not, he wanted to let her know he was going to back her up if any trouble arose.
He laughed to Chris, "Well, she does have a certain style," regarding Myitt, "but you can't argue with her results."
-
Myitt doesn't catch Parker's nod, but her attention is fixed on the human girl as Tamora sits back down.
Immediately Myitt's holoscreen is up, scanning Tamora to make sure the Yeerk has, indeed, vacated her body.
She smiles pleasantly at the girl as the holoscreen vanishes. "Please, make yourself comfortable," she says as easily as she can. "What can the rebellion do for you and your Imperial friend?"
-
"I...um..." Tamora's gaze flits around the bar, not unlike an animal in a cage. Her voice is timid, entirely unlike that of her anger-prone sister. After a couple of failed attempts she finally clears her throat and speaks. "Supplies," she squeaks out. "We need supplies. Um. Please." She hesitates again, then, uncertainly, adds a belated, awkward, "Ma'am."
"She's got a way with words," Chris says, laughing fondly. "Or, you know, drinks. I'm sure he deserved it. Myitt wouldn't act unprovoked. Usually."
-
Parker nodded knowingly, "Oh he deserved it. He was interrupting their conversation constantly. The guy doesn't know how to take a hint. I guess she just had enough. So how does your hierarchy system work in the rebellion?"
-
Myitt's eyebrows raise. She laughs lightly, surprised. "There's no need for formalities here, Tamora," she says, gently resting her hand on the human girl's lower arm. "We can get you basic supplies, as I told Zorish. Kandrona for at least two cycles, and food for you to last at least a month, if you're liberal with it. Your ship should provide you water. Is there anything else you need?"
-
Chris raises his eyebrows at the direct question. "I suppose it works in whatever way it needs to in order to remain effective," he says cautiously. "We have our leaders, and we know who we report to at any given time. Why do you want to know?"
Tamora's lip trembles, and she flinches at the Controller's touch, but does not pull away, too scared to. "I don't...I don't know. He -- he told me to --" she swallows. "He told me to get whatever I could. Anything that would help. I need...new clothes. And yeah, food and Kandrona and..." She bites her lip, searching Myitt's expression. "Why did you have to convince him to leave the Empire?" she asks, her words catching in her throat. "We were safe there. Now...if he dies...I can't...I don't know how to survive on my own. I haven't been alone in so long, I--" She shakes her head, unable to continue.
-
Parker replied, "Just wondering if you had sergeants, captains, and so forth; or just had people in charge. The thought occured when I didn't know Myitt's rank, or if she even had one." He glances at him sideways, "A bit defensive about your command structure, aren't you? It's a fairly simple question, mostly answered with 'military, political, or chaotic'." He smiles slightly at the last term, "Mostly, I was curious whether Myitt was your boss, superior officer, or just a co-worker."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin waits on Mar's response, when he gets nothing but a blank stare, he can only assume that the incarnation is inquiring from the Highest mass. He narrows his eyes and deactivates the stasis field around himself so he can move.
Setting hooves on the sterile white floor, he glances at Claxter. <Perhaps we should continue our conversation within the bar. I believe I am well enough now.> He glances back at Mar before issuing the ship a private command to lock all function and access beyond the medbay itself and the descent ramp. He adds a command to automatically lock the ship completely when it detects Mar's signal leaving. If he was the same Mar, Ossanlin would have no hesitance about leaving him alone in the Mirage, if he was closer to his Highest again, he should not have any interest in the ship at all. He nods to Claxter as he exits the medbay and the ship, descending the ramp and making his way back toward the bar.
His eyes scan actively as he looks around the clearing, noting only two humanoid-animal beings dueling in a friendly manner. He trots through the doors to the bar and surveys the patrons. Myitt had returned already...or...stra nge memories float through his head...somehow he knew Myitt had been gone for a standard year or so, and that some part of him had existed with her in that year. And Efaen...Efaen...his memories are not clear about the Andalite female, only that she had done something bad, and something bad had been done to her in turn. And he had gone to retrieve her...the strange memories cut off. Terenia was wearing...an Imperial uniform? Here? Had she returned from some sort of espionage mission? Surely her face would be recognizable within the Empire. That made little sense.
He trots over to Parker and nods. <I did not have an opportunity to properly thank you, Parker.> His main eyes are focused on the SPARTAN, but both stalk eyes are fastened on the being he believes to be Terenia. His tail sways back and forth a bit as it always does when he's immersed deeply in thought. <I appreciate the assistance you have rendered. I believe I am recovered now, and I know that you played a part in my convalescence. Again, I thank you.> He pauses, bowing his upper body slightly to the SPARTAN before continuing. <If you will excuse me, I see Myitt and would like to...catch up as it were.>
Ossanlin turns and trots toward the table containing Myitt and "Terenia", stopping shy of intrusion. <Myitt...it has been awhile...but not such a long time for me. And Terenia, I hope your natural form is suiting you well. I cannot say that the outfit becomes you, but I suppose there is no accounting for human tastes.> He smiles a bit, an attempt at human humor, though he is not certain he has been at all successful.
-
Parker nods to Ossanlin and returns his bow. He is about to speak before Ossanlin excuses himself. Parker continues his post, surveying the bar and keeping tabs on Myitt's conversation to ensure nothing goes awry.
Garreth feels his cognisance refill his body. He opens his eyes and sees Raile where he last sensed him, practicing his saber meditation. He slowly stood, regaining his balance and sense of being anchored. He smiles to Raile and says, "You look well."
-
Claxter follows behind Ossanlin and enteres the bar. He is unhappy to see Terenia again so soon, though noting she looks different. More like Tamora did in facial expression. Myitt was with her instead of Corliss, and he hoped Myitt would act more rational than Corliss did. He wanted to know if Efaen arrived safely at the base, though he didn't want to interrupt his Prince. Hopefully that information would come out on its own.
<I thank you too, Parker. Anything new going on?>
-
Chris laughs at the idea. "I suppose technically Myitt is my boss," he muses. "We have a Council; they make all the major decisions. But Kes and I spent so much time away from the rebellion..." He shrugs. "We sort of formed our own little rebellion, and Kes was the leader of all that. Makes it kind of hard to think of someone like Myitt as our boss. She's an old, old friend. It would be hard to 'yes ma'am' her."
When an unfamiliar Andalite approaches Parker, Chris's shoulders stiffen and his hand drifts towards his Dracon, only relaxing when the creature moves on.
"Never much liked those guys," he mutters under his breath. No sooner has he said this than a second Andalite walks up. This one seems a little younger than the first, but Chris isn't much of a fair judge.
<<Probably best you stay in control,>> Keslin says dryly, his mild contempt for the Andalites flaring.
<<Yeah, no kidding.>> Chris rests his hand comfortably on the butt of his Dracon and sips his refilled drink, trying to appear casual in the Andalite's presence. "I didn't realize there were so many blue dudes wandering around here," he offers after a moment.
Turned towards the booth as she is, Tamora does not notice the arrival of Ossanlin until his thought-speak penetrates her mind. Upon hearing it she jumps about a solid foot, jerking her head around to regard the silver-blade. "Oh-" Her eyes widen, skin blanching. In her terror she does not register that he has referred to her by her sister's chosen name. She can think of no words to say to the Andalite, so she just stares, unable to stop her gaze from drifting to his tail blade.
Zorish! she thinks desperately, but of course he is not there to hear her. You did not tell me I would have to deal with Andalites!
-
Claxter notices the controller's hand go to his weapon. Not wanting a confrontation at the moment, especially when any member of the rebellion might give him information about Efaen, he lowers his tail a little. <Be at ease, rebel. I don't intend harm right now. One of my friends recently joined the rebellion, actually. Her name is Efaen. Perhaps you know her? She has shown no affection towards any Yeerks while I have been with her, but apparently thought it best to be with your kind instead of with us. She just left a few hours ago.> He tries to keep any resentment out of his voice. <I am Claxter.>
-
Chris's eyebrows shoot up. "Chris," he offers. "And yeah, I know Efaen," he says carefully. "Or know of her, I should say. Never talked to the girl." He squints. "You must be talking about a different Efaen, though. The one I know of has been quarantined to either quarters or base for the past seven months. There isn't any way she would've been here."
<<Unless she stole a ship,>> Keslin offers worriedly.
<<No,>> Chris replies. <<I don't think so. Arnash would prevent that, wouldn't he? Besides, what good does coming here do her? From what I understand she's trying to avoid the Andalites, and this place is crawling with them.>>
<<Perhaps, but we should contact Reven at some point to ensure that she has not gone rogue again.>>
Chris keeps his wary smile in place as he converses with Keslin.
-
<This place is kind of a space time anomaly. Different times and dimensions converge here.> Claxter said after a few seconds of silence. <It's already been seven months? she's supposed to contact my Prince periodically. I wonder if Prince ossanlin has a bunch of unanswered messages, or will get swamped with a lot very soon. So how has she acclimated? I don't suppose you've talked to anyone who sees her frequently?>
-
Keshin, not sure what he's supposed to say, wanders back toward the old Bar. It had been a long, strange day----in which he had accomplished absolutely nothing. Jocun was proving to be more complicated than he had thought. Though he knew the man had business with Salem, he didn't know how far he'd be willing to go to save someone he barely knew. His explanation for why didn't really make any sense: he was an Imperial official and he'd help out any person he was in a deal with?
<Kess...maybe it's a bust.>
<I think we still might be able to get something out of him. I'm heading over to the Bar.>
<Man, why did we come back here? Ya know this kinda crud happens all the damn time.>
Keshin pushes open the door a bit tiredly, getting a good look around. His eyes widen when he realizes Ossanlin is back. Great. Ossanlin is back. More self-righteous meandering by the glorious Andalite hero. Keshin could really stand to live without that---one of Ossanlin's rounds of it nearly killed him. Keshin sits down at a table, resting before deciding who to speak to.
**********************************************************************************************************************************
Mar's own mind has become lost in thought, dueling over how he wants to approach Ossanlin. Even the magnificent artifact he got from Salem is unable to hold back this madness. He cannot determine whether the Andalite is possible ally or friend, and the difference matters to Mar. Why did he do what he did for Ossanlin during that strange incident? Why would he care if the War-Prince lived or died? The Andalite was not one of his own, one of his seven. Mar runs his hands through his hair and looks up. He realizes that in his reverie....he has been left alone on the ship.
Mar laughs a bit darkly, kicking at the floor of the Mirage. He supposes he should follow the blue moron regardless of his feelings. Either way they needed to talk. He could think about what on the way there. ...he could just leave from this spot, and never come back. Use something in Ossanlin's ship to exit. But then...then he would be...gone. Only the black thing would live on in its undeath. Mar swallows, and determines he does not want to leave it to that. "Open hatch," he mutters. He begins to drift toward the Bar and out of the ship. Whatever he might be, he does not want the situation to end just yet.
-
Chris hesitates, sucking on his teeth. "I'm sorry," he says after a moment, still regarding the Andalite with caution. "We don't have the authority to discuss her situation. She is alive, and she is healthy. That is all I can tell you. Honestly, I don't know all of the details myself. I'd hate to misinform you."
-
Jocun returns to the bar in new clothes, though still casual wear. He also kept his weapon because he didn't feel entirely safe unarmed anymore. Andalites had shown up, and he sat near Keshin, out of range of any liquid projectiles coming from the rebel. "frankly I'm used to being more popular than this. Normally because everyone knows who I am." He said to keshin. "Maybe vacationing here wasn't the best idea, even though elsewhere I'd risk being mobbed by my adoring public."
<Thank you.> Claxter said, bringing his attention back to Parker. Of course he didn't trust a rebel completely regarding Efaen, but he'd have to take the guy's word for it at the moment.
-
Myitt shakes her head at Tamora. "I didn't convince him to leave the Empire, he did that well enough on his own," she insists.
Before she can go on, her old Andalite friend appears at the table. Her face breaks out in a grin.
"Hey, Ossanlin, buddy!" she says loudly, clapping his arm lightly. "It's good to see you. And I have no idea what you're talking about; are you feeling well?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin pauses for a moment, registering "Terenia's" reaction. <I had thought you might get used to working with Andalites from your time with the rebellion...> Perhaps she had not experienced the same strange time dilation? That didn't make much sense, but not much did in this place.
He turns his eyes back to Myitt. <I understand you have been gone for a standard year by your perception. By mine it has been no more than two or three days at the most. Though I have strange memories...I was....unconscious for a time. I cannot explain what happened. I remember...I do not know what I remember. It is a strange phenomenon. According to the others here, I never left.> He lays the hand on her shoulder a moment before moving into a more suitable position as a part of the table, taking Myitt's greeting as an invitation.
His stalk eyes catch Keshin walking in...that one he did not care for. He doesn't allow his feelings to show in either face or body-language, but he watches the turulek closely with a stalk-eye. <I remember there was some trouble...with Efaen. I try not to dwell on it, my...association... with the Ellimist causes strange things sometimes. It is good to see you again as well.>
He moves his main eyes back up to "Terenia". <I see you are still not convinced that I will not harm you without cause.> He looks back to Myitt. <An Imperial uniform? I would've thought her face would be too recognizable within the Empire, especially to Visser three.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________
~Raile~
Raile feels the other Jedi return to consciousness and feels a gladness. The other truly was not injured. He performs a particularly tricky part of the kata, a series of spins and jumps capped off by a leap that sends his body into the air an parallel to the ground, sabers whirling in a vertical line as his body spins quickly through the air, and then lands in a crouch. He extinguishes the lightsabers and returns them to their clips on his belt and over his shoulder respectively as he stands in one fluid motion.
He turns to Garreth and smiles. "Thank you, I do feel less...burdened. Clarity of thought has eluded me of late...I must say it's return is quite welcome. Very refreshing." He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. "I...do not know if you feel it, but I can sense you more strongly than before. I don't know what you did, but it seems to have had many effects."
-
Jocun's attention was brought to someone doing acrobatics, and using an energy weapon similar to Parker's. He watches in mild amusement, hoping for more.
-
Keshin notes Jocun as he sits down, hearing the Yeerk talk. An adoring public? That was interesting: it meant that Jocun was powerful where he was from. Time to give him the bad news. Keshin settles into his chair and begins, almost dully. It's become this Bar-wide speech or something. "Okay, Jocun. This Bar is a sort of dimensional nexus that's weirdly fix ated on the time and place Myitt and I are from. People from anywhere, any universe, can get here. But the thing is....."
Keshin groans. "I mean, you haven't even been born yet to me and the rebels. To the brown cloak guys, you don't even exist. That's how strange this Bar is."
**********************************************************************************
Mar wanders into the Bar, noting that the regulars are all there. Did he count as a regular? Maybe---he was almost an inhabitant. Mar chuckled, finding Ossanlin and his Precious instantly.
"You left me in your ship," stated Mar with a bit of a grin. "I know I'm nobody, but I did not think I was that irrelevant. Granted I do seem to be losing my mind. I cannot figure out why I did certain things, Ossanlin."
-
Salem set up one of the walls to replay its tracking of Rathien since he'd left the ship last time, with emphasis on the battle that'd just taken place. He half-watched as he changed clothes and switched out his equipment, and turned his full attention to it as he watched the recording of the battle. Rathien was as agile and threatening as ever. Salem didn't exactly fancy the idea of trying to go up against him in hand-to-hand combat- but then, if he did his job right, it would never come to that. If he could avoid Rathien's weapon-fire, he'd be fine.
A short buzz followed by the silence in his head indicated that his ship had lost track of Rathien. Salem's heart skipped a beat- he immediately skipped the recording ahead and watched as Rathien entered what looked like his own ship. Nothing to worry about, then- just too far away to see the hunter through the hull. Salem breathed a momentary sigh of relief and switched the viewer back to its standard mode, so that the ships and beings in and around the bar showed up in a variety of neon colors indicative of various qualities.
As a matter of curiosity, he zoomed in on Parker inside the bar and called up a readout- maybe he could work something out about Parker's suit, which seemed more advanced each time he encountered it. He began to draw his cloak on around him, but stopped with it partway around his shoulders and did a double-take. "Seriously?" he muttered aloud. Parker's suit was composed primarily of titanium, it seemed- the element hadn't been used in military applications for centuries. Salem's EM patches worked by issuing forth a dual field of force- one in normal space and one in another realm of force, causing the electromagnetic waves from the patch to oscillate between the two planes and allowing them to penetrate the standard EM shielding of most equipment. Titanium and a few other standard real-space stable elements, thanks to their atomic and nuclear structures, naturally absorbed the otherdimensional field that would cause the electromagnetic waves to revert to existence in real space- all of the patch's EM radiation within Parker's suit would have simply been forced out of existence by the field in real space. The same property, however, meant that a similar field could be used to simply force the titanium itself out of phase in real space. In alloy form, this effect would cause the trace elements left behind to become exceedingly agitated, often releasing an explosive amount of heat.
Salem shook his head. Amazing how things you'd never think about seem to crop up here. Al and someone else were approaching the ship- non-human, but humanoid. Salem quickly switched to a visual display and frowned- it was Ewa. She didn't look completely normal, but he'd taken her for human. One could never tell in this place, it seemed.
The ship and his communicator trilled simultaneously as he clipped his holster back on- it had found a pattern in the systems the Skimmer had used to contact the rebel base. Salem should be able to communicate with the rebels. For the moment, he'd only be able to send messages that would appear to originate from the Skimmer, but it was something.
Salem grinned and slid his antigravity gun back into its slot on the right of his holster, the holster itself widening as he did so to allow the weapon to fit. His arm was still burning and his ankle was still throbbing, and he seemed to be getting a headache again, but at least things seemed to be going right.
-
"I get that idea." Jocun said. "There is a recent arrival of a Gedd controller from my time that doesn't agree with my views. I'm not sure if he could become a threat or not. If I order his departure prematurely, he could become suspicious. You could help me keep an eye on him, for pay."
-
Suddenly the bar burst with activity after Ossanlin's arrival: Claxter, Jocun, Keshin, and Mar all reentered the bar shortly after the first Andalite.
After Chris's comment about there being so many 'blue dudes' around, Parker commented, "This is only half as many as there once was. For a time, Andalites out numbered the controllers." Chris then became engaged in a conversation with Claxter about the status of Efaen, Terenia's host (if he recalled correctly).
Parker made note of the new arrangements the patrons maneuvered themselves into and began a new threat assessment. Mar's presence would cause Myitt definite discomfort, as would the Andalites' presence to the number of rebels unfamiliar with them. Tamora's vital readings were spiking, though she seemed too frightened and timid to act. Keshin was always a wild card; however, as a bounty hunter, it would be unlikely that she attack anyone without promise. Not to mention the only one near her was the unknown Jocun who defended a friend to his fullest. It was unlikely he would lash out at Myitt, but he did return with a different weapon. His decision to switch his rifle to a quick-draw weapon gave Parker pause. This new weapon would perform better close quarters. Perhaps he did anticipate a confrontation. Parker made a note to watch that pair and gave Thor an order to monitor their conversation. He wanted to know if Jocun was planning on hiring the bounty hunter to target Myitt.
Claxter's appearance was mostly an annoyance. For some odd reason, after Parker helped him move Ossanlin, Claxter felt that made them friends. He, for some reason, waited for a response to his earlier question of a sitrep. Parker finally answered Claxter's question. Though he answered it as neutrally as he could, "What you see before you is all that's new. Most of the bar's patrons are now indoors save ten: four are outside taking part in an exhibition, there's Salem, Al and his female follower, along with Salem's attacker are outside as well; and there are also two more individuals behind the bar. If you wish for further debriefing, I suggest asking elsewhere." He turned his head to look directly at Claxter at the words "elsewhere". He kept his tone even, so no emotion could be read; but his final "look" should have conveyed that he didn't like Claxter hanging around. He then returned to watching Myitt's booth and following their conversation.
He commented to Chris, "I don't think Myitt would take too kindly to being called 'Ma'am' in the first place. Women rarely like being called that. Besides, it seems as though she treats those around her as more equals than inferiors. She does carry authority, but rarely pushes it around. That's what I've gathered anyhow."
Garreth smiled slightly and nodded, "I too feel it. I believe it's what is called, a 'Force Bond'. I think our interaction created some sort of link between us. It did become rather intense there for a moment. I'm glad you survived it. May I ask why you keep one of your sabers behind your back?"
-
<Thank you Parker.> Claxter said. He left the two and stood near his Prince, not having much to do at the moment. Hopefully he hadn't learned everything he was going to learn about Efaen, and if Ossanlin asked Myitt about it, she would be more forthcoming.
-
"Ah, well, you see Ossanlin," Myitt states, swallowing, "this is not Terenia. It's her twin sister, Tamora. It's a long story. The bar." She twirls her finger next to her head to indicate the place's temporally anomalous ridiculousness.
"A year?" she continues, eyes widening. "Holy crap, do we have a lot to catch up on." She sighs and looks around the table at Illim, Serid and finally Tamora, standing next to Ossanlin. "You should have a drink, Ozzy."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin's eyes narrow and then shift back to Tamora. <Tamora is dead.> Ossanlin twitches at the memory, then glances back over to Myitt. <Causality...> He sighs. <Causality is not meant to be ephemeral.> A strange, sharp pain pierces his head and is gone just as suddenly. Perhaps a side-effect of some sort. <I suppose...> He glances at the BT with his main eyes, still keeping a stalk glued on Keshin.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _________________
~Raile~
Raile nods, reflecting for a moment. "I had come to the same conclusion, but I have never heard of a bond being formed instantaneously. I must admit it is somewhat disconcerting. I knew my old master for years before I could sense the bond with him, and even then it was a gradual escalation of awareness. I do not know you well, but it seems we share a bond already, though it does seem weaker than the bond with my old master was when I faced the Trials."
He reaches a hand surreptitiously toward his shoulder. "I have always felt more comfortable with it over my shoulder. The one on my shoulder is my original saber, I added my Master's to my belt when...he passed. It seems rather convenient for the dual-saber style, and unexpected in some ways."
-
Parker overheard Ossanlin say factually that Tamora was dead. Parker raised his eyebrows in pure shock. For all this time, he had assumed that Tamora had been targeted and evaded death; and that was the reasoning behind her absolute hatred for Myitt. This, however, is a completely different situation. For Ossanlin to state her death in such a way means that it is in fact what happened. Tamora had died; and that meant the Myitt did indeed kill them. Parker re-evaluates what he knows about Myitt and reasons that there must have been an extremely good reason for the deed. As Tamora was a controller, Myitt must've had no choice but to destroy her to protect her brethren for some reason. Myitt, from what he had heard and witnessed, was not a murderer. She didn't kill others without good reason. Parker gave Myitt the benefit of his experience with her and accepted this new information as an unfortunate tragedy.
This, of course is all conjecture, and may need confirmation if he ever had the chance. Myitt was too enveloped to ask, and Chris had been out of that loop too long to derive any useful knowledge. He would have to ask either Corliss when and if he returned, or Ossanlin when he is not too busy.
Garreth nods, "Indeed. I believe the reason for the weak connection is because the way in which it was formed. It may also take into account that we are both from lives that are millennia apart. Of course that means nothing here." Garreth looked up into the sky, signifying the planetoid they now inhabit.
Garreth asked, "I must ask, do you traditionally draw your saber using the Force, or do you reach the entire distance?"
-
"No, I don't quite picture many people calling Myitt 'ma'am' and getting away with it," Chris says with a snicker, much more at ease once the Andalite moves on. He continues watching the rebel table, though, noting that it seems to be growing in popularity - and with the grass eaters, to boot.
"Didn't realize she was so popular around here, though," he muses.
"I-" Tamora swallows, the very thought of addressing this Andalite herself almost more than she could handle. She considers making a run for it, back to the ship and the safety of Zorish's control, but that would mean trying to run around the Andalite - two Andalite's now - without them catching her and using that wicked tail of theirs.
She clears her throat, and stammers, "I-- I'm not dead. Please -- don't hurt me."
-
Parker nods, "Well, it's a small planetoid. Both Myitt and Corliss are quite popular here. The ties they create with others tend to intertwine with even more popular patrons." He nods toward Ossanlin, "Some people just gravitate toward them. Unfortunately it can result in some interesting fights as well, this place being what it is."
Parker asks, "Something you said earlier strikes me as odd. How is it that you can shoot more accurately than your inhabitant. He does use your muscles, wouldn't his aim be just as true as yours?"
-
Claxter was glad this was actually Tamora and not Terenia. She was much less annoying, if quite codependant on Zorish. He wished Zorish had already left, but perhaps something else was keeping him here. Maybe the risk of being killed for meeting rebels and not ending their lives or something. everyone knew Visser Three didn't even need an excuse to kill someone.
-
Chris sips his beer, considering Parker.
<<I can speak for myself,>> Keslin murmurs, taking gentle control and setting down the beer. "Keslin speaking," he says to Parker with a grim smile. "My ability to use Chris's muscles is still dependent on the amount of control I maintain."
He holds Chris' left hand up. It is noticeably trembling. "I made some unfortunate decisions, a long time ago, that damaged my neural net. As a result, my control over Chris is more tenuous than that of most Yeerks, especially regarding fine motor skills. I have learned over the years that it is easier to let Chris handle jobs that require more dexterity."
He lowers his hand, sliding it into his pocket and out of sight, expression troubled.
-
Parker nodded, accepting the short answer. It was obvious he didn't want to go into details. He instead asked, "So is that what inspired you to trust your host; your lessened ability to control him?"
-
Keslin's expression darkens, a look of clear offense on his face.
"My friendship with Chris was established long before my ability to control him weakened. I trust him because I am able to accept the notion that he is an equal being to me." His voice is not that of the soft-spoken, easily embarrassed friend of Myitt. Instead, it is that of a businessman whose methods of operation have been called into question. Keslin is as close to snapping as he ever comes.
"That I have no right to control his body, if he does not wish it. Is it so hard to believe that one of my kind could express sympathy for their host without being already weakened in some way?"
-
Parker lifts an eyebrow at Keslin's reaction. This was obviously a sore subject for him. Parker shook his head slightly and replied, "Not at all; it was only a question. I have no experience dealing with your kind. I don't know much, if anything, other than what's told to me about your species; so I don't judge on either side. The first controller I met was Myitt. I have more experience with the sympathetic Yeerks than I do with the Imperial Yeerks."
-
"Hey!" Myitt calls, half-standing and waving at the bartender, who regards her with a pale, sullen stare. "Can I get a fermented...uh, what is it you'd like Ossanlin? Fermented grass?" She nods at the bartender and points to Ossanlin. "Whatever he wants, on my tab."
She sits back down with a grunt. "Don't worry about him, Tamora," she says with an off-handed wave. "He won't hurt you. He's a friend of ours, okay? And what the hell, sit down, as long as you don't try and murder us."
Myitt scoots over to let the scared-looking human girl have a seat in the booth next to her.
-
I watched Jocun sit down with a group of regulars. Interesting. Maybe that's why this place barely registered on any map. A visser's private hideaway.
-
Keslin nods, relaxing minutely. "When I first received Chris as my host he was fourteen years old. A child. His subjugation and my orders to do the same to his family - that is what led me to leave the Empire. It is hard not to sympathize with a child who has encountered their worst nightmare, when that nightmare is you."
He pauses to take a sip of Chris's beer, letting the cool liquid calm his nerves. "It took considerably more time to actually be able to leave the Empire, but after I took this being, things were never quite the same."
Tamora's gaze darts to the available spot at the booth, then back to Ossanlin. Swallowing hard she moves, inch by inch, to sit next to Myitt, keeping her wide eyes on the Andalite. At one point she moves close enough to Myitt that her arm brushes against the Controller's jacket. With a small yelp she pulls away again, as though afraid that she might set the Yeerk off.
-
Claxter rolls his eyes at the level of fear the Human exhibits, but makes no comment. He symapthises with her, and doesn't really know what to say that would make her believe he wouldn't hurt her.
Jocun noticed Tamora's reactions, but doesn't go over and risk being doused again. He didn't really like it the first time, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He decided he wanted to vacation at a place where no one recognized Simon's face, and he got what he wanted.
-
Parker nodded, impressed. He asked, "So did you just go AWOL, or did you have to break away?"
He noticed Myitt warming up to Tamora and watched as the frightened girl sat down. He knew neither Ossanlin nor Myitt would harm her; and even if Tamora became frightened enough to take action, they would both be able to handle her. He relaxed considerably and shot a quick look at Jocun. The man was concerned for the girl; but was too cautious to approach the table again. Parker kept him in his peripheral vision, so he could keep an eye on him without Jocun being alerted that he was being watched. Jocun was, after all, still next to that bounty hunter; and if he became interested enough, he may just hire her. Parker told Thor to added Tamora's name to the things to listen for in Jocun's conversations.
-
Myitt squints at Tamora with an uncommon expression of concern for the girl.
"Hey," she breathes, eyebrows furrowing. "You don't hafta be so jumpy. It's okay, I'm not going to shoot you..." She watches the human girl and adds, as if it were inconsequential, "...Again."
-
"Stole a ship and ran for it," Keslin says. He too seems to relax more as Tamora slides into the booth. She seems far too terrified to do anything; her hand hasn't gone near her Dracon since entering the bar. He turns his attention fully to Parker. "Followed a very close comrade whose host happens to be Chris's cousin. I had a hand in infesting James, so I sort of owed it to Chris to follow the kid. Besides, at that point I couldn't handle another day in the Empire. It was becoming unbearable. And more dangerous by the day. A single memory dump and I would have been in line for execution."
Tamora nods in response to Myitt, but her fingers find a firm grasp on the edge of her seat, clinging to the plastic for dear life.
"S-sorry," she whispers. "I've never -- it's been..." Her eyes dart around the room nervously. "I haven't talked to anyone on -- on my own since -- since I was infested," she stammers. "I don't know what he wants me to say."
-
Parker comments, "I take it James is the cousin. So did you get picked up by the rebellion while out on your own; or was that where James was heading?"
-
Keslin shrugs. "The rebellion didn't really exist yet, when I left. This was well over a decade ago, and most people were too afraid of the Empire to leave it. Host sympathy was more rare, too, as there were fewer human hosts. It seems like most sympathy seems to occur in correlation with a human assignment."
-
Parker asks, "So you helped form the rebellion; or were you just there when it formed? Well, speaking to one of those Hork-Bajir, I can understand why your kind would have less guilt for using them. Your kind hasn't infested many complex sapient creatures, have they?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods to Mar. <You appeared lost in thought, I tried several times to gain your attention but you did not respond. I assumed you were otherwise engaged, perhaps with your mass, so I provided you with your privacy.> He pauses. <I do not know to which actions you are referring.>
He turns back to Myitt and nods in response to her question about a drink. <That's fine I'm sure.> He glances again at Tamora and folds his arms before looking back at Myitt. <To us here, only a few days have passed since you last departed the Bar's space, Myitt.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _________________
~Raile~
Raile nods at Garreth. "Well yes, I generally reach for it. I only use the Force if necessary, or if it will provide me with some sort of tactical advantage. It's always felt more natural...I do not know why. I suppose in response I could ask 'Why not?'."
-
"Well, what did he ask you to say?" Myitt replies, trying to remain pleasant, although her irritation at Tamora's meekness is starting to grate its way into her tone.
She blinks at Ossanlin. "Only a few days?" she hisses. "Yeah, um, it's a good thing your drink is here."
The bartender wordlessly sets down a glass pan of blue-green, fermented grass liquid by Ossanlin's side.
Myitt folds her arms in front of her on the table, sighing. "Where to begin...okay, uh. Do you remember Efaen at all?" She winces.
-
No Myitt, we completely forgot about Efaen over the course of a few days. Claxter thought to himself. At least he didn't intend to say it out loud, and his facial expression remained more or less neutral. At least she mentioned Efaen, and surely Ossanlin would get as much information as possible. He reminded himself that as infuriated as he was with Corliss, this wasn't him. Myitt wasn't in love with Terenia to the point he had taken leave of his senses.
-
"Just to get supplies," Tamora says quietly, shivering a little. She watches the way that Myitt and Ossanlin interact with one another, with confidence and comraderie, and bites her lip.
"Myitt," she murmurs, her voice still barely above a whisper. "If Zorish leaves the Empire, are we...are we gonna die?"
"No, not really," Keslin says. "A few here and there, but none quite so complex as humans. And the stray Andalite, I suppose, but I can't speak to that. It is certainly...a unique experience."
-
Illim leans back more comfortably in the booth, slinging an arm over the back of his seat and watching Ossanlin and Claxter crowd their table. His ability to put up with Tamora's timidity is waning just as much as Myitt's, and he turns his eyes on Ossanlin, as well. But when he speaks, it's to his former host seated across from him. "Serid, it's been busy at the rebellion since we parted, but it's proving a great home, and a great place to make a stand against the Empire. Guessing you haven't given much thought to forgiving Tora, yeah?"
The Andalite nothlit sighs in abrupt irritation. "Her abandonment of me has not changed," he replies stiffly. "I have received a chance to regain my honor and perhaps even my natural form with the War Prince. What your organization offers me is a pittance in comparison, even if Ertoran were not residing there."
-
Myitt frowns. "I can't tell you that, kid. Not for sure. But hey, we left the Empire and we haven't died," she says, gesturing at herself and Illim, smiling what she hopes is an encouraging smile.
She sits back. "You've just gotta be brave, okay? That Yeerk of yours...he cares about you. More than he wants to admit, perhaps. He won't let anything bad happen to you, if he can help it." Again a pang of guilt hits her.
-
Tamora nods, looking down at her hands. "I've never been very brave," she admits with a helpless shrug. "Teresa was always the brave one. And Zorish...he's brave in his own way. He has to be, to be able to be a Sub-Visser." She looks up at Myitt, reassured by her ability to form complete sentences without stammering. "He did that for me, you know. He never wanted the position, but he thought it'd make me safer."
-
Parker comments, "I can sort of relate. After my training, I became so much more aware of my surroundings. Then, after getting into this suit, I could sense so much more. It was like gaining a sixth sense. I couldn't imagine living like I did when I was a kid; completely ignorant of everything around me."
Garreth tilts his head momentarily and replies, "Well, I would assume that taking the time to reach across your torso and over your shoulder would slow response time toward an attack. Having the saber on the hip allows for quicker draws, and therefore better response times. I mean our lives are often decided in nano-seconds. Reaching over the shoulder may be too costly in some situations. However if that is how you naturally fight, it would be more of a hardship attempting to adapt to a new style."
Garreth decides to drop the subject and asks, "Would you mind teaching me that routine you practiced just now?" Two bulges appeared in the hip area of Garreth's robe and moved toward the middle of his body. Two lightsabers appeared from his robe's folds and as they flew into his hands, Garreth lit them. The blades, one yellow-bronze, the other cyan-silver, crossed his chest.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods at the BT and places his hoof in the drink. <Of course, she is supposed to be sending regular reports to me Myitt. She is my officer.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _____________
~Raile~
Raile glances at Garreth in open surprise. "You use a dual style as well?" The colors of the sabers seem foreign to him, but all sorts of things had been lost over time, especially during the Sith war. Entire chambers full of holocrons had been destroyed...so much precious knowledge had been lost, and now it looked like it might happen again. The Sith would want to erase even the memory of the Jedi...he mourns a moment for the Temple Archives and then clears his thoughts again.
"The Order tried to teach me differently as well...I was not allowed to wear my saber in that position when I was a Youngling, but as soon as Master Slone took me on as Padawan, he insisted I change it back. He told me that I should 'do what comes naturally.' And wearing my saber at my shoulder had always seemed more natural." He pauses and draws both sabers again, igniting them.
"I would be more than willing, though I'm sure you have much more experience than I at wielding two sabers. I am...self-taught in the art of dual-wielding. It is nothing more than a kata really. Ever since I learned of the Force, I have achieved my most fruitful meditations while performing saber exercises. After my Master perished, I adopted the second blade into my meditations." He moves his sabers into a pose, the right-hand saber...his saber...over his head, pointing forward and angling down in front of him slightly at a 45 degree angle. His left-hand saber crosses the front of his body at his midsection.
He closes his eyes and begins the slow beginning movements of the kata, sweeping the sabers grandly in deliberate arcs as if being moved through water.
-
Myitt nods gravely. "You know, there's a human saying that I like. I says that bravery isn't the absence of fear, it's facing fear and overcoming it. That might sound cliche, but you're going to have to be as brave and as scared as Zorish, as any of us, if you're going to survive. There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not afraid, somewhere deep down, that I've led my host into the wrong decision. Sometimes the right decision isn't the safest or sanest one, either."
She glances over at Illim and Serid as they quietly continue their own conversation. "I wish I could tell you that you and Zorish could stay with us, Tamora. I can't even tell you the same events that happened in my past will happen in your future. This very conversation may have already changed the version of events that I knew, creating your own sort of deus ex machina in your own separate universe."
-
Claxter felt something bad must have happened to Efaen. Or perhaps she did something bad. He wasn't surprised. Sending her there was a bad decision, and the only reason Terenia wanted her to come at all was as Terenia's host. Though the fact that the time difference was so large may have played into it some. A lot could happen in a year, and if Efaen had been sending reports with no answer for months, she may have done something drastic, believing her Prince was ignoring her.
-
Garreth stands beside Raile and begins to mimic his movements. He watched sometimes with his eye; but mostly sensed his movements and followed as closely as he could. The exercise was not completely foreign; however millennia apart, there were definite differences. He concentrated on his form and motion rather than explain his unfamiliarity with fighting with two swords. He had a lot of practice, yes; but he only picked it up in the last year. His entire time as a youngling, he fancied and used a double bladed saber. He was used to keeping track of two sabers, but they were always tied to each other, mirroring the others motions. With two separate sabers, keeping track of each saber independently was considerably more work.
-
~Raile~
Raile moves a bit faster now, stepping away. He begins to spin as his sabers draw through the air. The feel is of a slow dance. His movements are calm...unhurried. He works his wrists to move the sabers in a new dimension, adding more and more fine movement. He senses the new Bond with Garreth more strongly as his meditative state strengthens. Feeling the other moving in time with him is oddly soothing.
He moves a bit faster, the dance becoming a brisk ballroom trot. He begins adding simple jumps, his footwork keeping his legs moving almost constantly now. He begins spinning the sabers in elaborate whirls and arcs as his feet keep him moving. He draws stunning patterns of intense light through the air, delicate yet deadly as his motions continue to draw him around the clearing.
-
Garreth moves with Raile, keeping pace. When Raile speeds up, Garreth begins to lag behind a bit, but still keeps up with his movements. He kept his footwork simpler, but still mirrored his saber strikes.
-
Myitt looks back at Ossanlin, struggling with the right way to put what she has to say.
"Well, uh," she says hesitantly, "in the last year or so she's...she's not exactly been behaving herself." Her confidence builds a little. "Actually she attacked our home pool with a paralyzing and deadly agent." She waits to let the gravity of that statement sink in. "Yeah. So."
-
"I don't understand this whole timeline thing," Tamora admits, looking glum. "But I don't know that I'd want to go with you, even if we could. My sister is there, isn't she? If she's truly alive. I have...I don't want to see her." She sighs. "I just wish that I could help Zorish, instead of making him feel as though he had to babysit me all the time."
Keslin nods. "It is a sobering experience. One that is not easy to forget, or give up."
-
Julian had been watching for any more moves against him. He figured it might be fun to see what happened if he switched from dodging around waiting for a move. Going against someone like this guy was a new experience, he wanted to see how this guy handled himself.
Julian moved forward and brought his sword forward.
-
~Ossanlin~
Memories begin to flood back into his head. <Corliss did something unacceptable...> It was not a question.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __________________
~Raile~
Raile launches into the portion of the routine he'd ended with just a moment ago. He'd not completed the whole kata the first time. He begins with the leap that takes his body parallel to the ground, suspended and spinning, his lightsabers whirling as his body barrel-rolls. He comes out of it and lands. He leaps into the air enhancing the jump slightly with the Force and begins forward flipping at an impressive rate as his body clears the height of the trees before coming back to the ground, landing daintily. He leaps again, pushing hard with the Force. His body sails into the sky five times again the height of the trees. He'd not trusted himself to do this part of the kata for many years, it demanded fine control of the Force, something he'd always struggled with anyway. Given the confliction he's been feeling of late, his fine Force control had been questionable at best. This had been a part of his kata since before he'd added the second saber, but if anything, the second saber made things more difficult, and this in fact was the first time he's even done this portion with the second saber.
At the top of his leap, his body leans back lazily as if arching over some sort of suspended lateral pole until he's face-down to the ground. His body begins spinning as he starts his plummet toward the ground. His sabers whirl around in flowers of color as his head rushes toward the floor of the clearing. In the last seconds of his descent, he puts both hands out toward the ground, still inverted, sabers still burning, and exerts the Force, slowing his descent until his hands stop just before the dirt, and he pushes, turning the fall into a forward handspring. He flips twice through the air and lands softly on one foot, sabers both held parallel across the front of his body. He holds the post for a moment before relaxing and extinguishing his sabers, placing them back on their respective clips. He looks over to watch Garreth.
-
Just couldn't leave her alone, could he? Claxter thought to himself. Corliss did something to set her off. He was part of the reason she was there in the first place. Though obviously trying to kill the rebels without express permission from her Prince was not what she should have done, anyone could see sending her there was bad. A little bit of this was Ossanlin's fault. If she was going to be unhappy either way, why couldn't she at least be with her own people? How was she going to improve while being surrounded by what she hated? Terenia was Human now, so what would Corliss have done to set her off? Still trying to get Terenia put in charge of her as a superior officer or something?
"Oh, done being a spectator and actually want to be involved, huh? Come on, then." Zoshonel said.
-
Ewa jogged to a halt near Al, just outside a strange ship that apparently belonged to Salem. Or someone dumb enough to just leave their ship open to anyone who walks by, she thought, remembering Van. There was something about the ship she felt she should recognize, but whatever it was didn't do more than tickle at the back of her mind, so she dismissed it.
She turned to Al, still a little short of breath but not panting, and raised her eyebrows a bit incredulously. "You're telling me we ran all the way over here to not deal with something? Wait, scratch that," she held up her palm, "if not dealing with it means not getting shot at" or being associated with an ignorant air-gliding cowboy "then I'm all for it."
-
Garreth follows the parallel spin, and does a single forward flip instead of the Force Jump Raile had done. He then mirrors Raile's final Force Jump maneuver, but simply lands after Force Pushing against the ground to slow his descent. He extinguishes his blades and replaces them as watches Raile complete his double flip. As Raile turns to Garreth, Garreth claps and gives him a bow.
He says, "That was quite impressive. For exercises, I usually tone down the number of flips I do. Some part of me feels it to be a tad boisterous. Of course in battle, I don't care about those things. I've always been self-conscious about displaying my full abilities in public; unless there are small children around. Seeing their faces light up as I perform is always a treat; even though I have to deal with the judging faces of their parents afterward."
-
~Raile~
Raile ****s his head a bit to the side and bows in return. "It was not my intention to be boisterous, it is merely the kata that I have used for meditation for so long. You may have felt that I am what we call a Guardian. I focus upon lightsaber techniques...my control of the Force as well as my interactive and diplomatic elements are not as honed. I pour everything I am into my sabers, I become them. What I do in the kata seems a natural expression."
He looks around the clearing. "If there was an audience, I did not sense them." He takes in a deep breath. "I feel refreshed though, and much more relaxed than I have been in a long time." He smiles to himself.
-
Garreth shakes his head, "I never said it was boisterous. It's just a small subconscious thought that keeps me from completely letting go when I do my exercises. Truly, it was beautiful to behold. My goal had always been to become a Guardian; however I have not often had many instances in which to use them to my full ability. The places I've been assigned to have been rather easy to mediate. I get most of my saber experience in practice rooms. Though I have taken a few trips to Tatooine to hone my skills on my own time. If ever there was a planet where the indigenous people attack you blindly; it's that planet. Just walk about the desert for a while, and before you know it, you're being attacked by sand people. They're easy enough to fend off. I get a good balance between saber and Force practice. Normally, I use my saber defensively to deflect oncoming attacks, then I use the Force to render them unconscious. I've even been able to use Affect Mind on one of them so he would help defend me."
-
~Raile~
Raile nods as he listens and then casts his eyes down. "I've had more than enough practice of late. The people I had befriended on Dantooine turned on me after listening to the so-called "Emperor's" propaganda. A man I considered my greatest friend, and one whom I held in high regard...I killed him. He drew a blaster on me out of nowhere. I deflected a shot into his weapon-arm, but as soon as he dropped the blaster, he pulled a knife with the other hand and charged me. I only meant to push him away...his back shattered on the column he flew into. And the others...they'd informed the "Empire" of my whereabouts...I had to face a dark Jedi...I fled as soon as I could and...well I ended up here."
-
Garreth's eyes widened, "A dark Jedi? Some of our brothers joined the Sith?" He pauses a moment to allow the information to sink in, "By your very presence, I take it you defeated him." Garreth shakes his head, "The future sounds very bleak indeed. I only hope you are able to survive it and create a better one; even if only on a single world."
-
Al grinned at Ewa, "I'm pretty sure I ran over here not to deal with something, while you only followed out of morbid curiosity." He sighed and glanced up the ramp, "If I know Salem, it's time for us to be moving on. Too much danger and we're out of here." He bowed deeply to her with a flourish, "It has, however, been a pleasure to know you."
Salem continued to watch his display of his surroundings. Two figures near the door appeared to be fighting, and two more a distance away seemed to be... performing acrobatics? With... energy swords? One jumped a ridiculous distance into the air- Salem sighed and turned away. More mysteries at this bar to look into later. They seemed to be cropping up faster than he could solve them.
As a matter of curiosity, he called up a readout on Ewa and Al, now at the bottom of the ship's ramp. As he finished tying his cloak on around his neck, he looked at the display, then narrowed his eyes. He ordered the computer to compare Ewa's anatomy and physiology with those of known species.
"The hell...?" he muttered. Ewa was showing up as a Paladinian. Ordinarily, they were one of the standard species Salem's ship would have scanned for, but as this particular ship had never, as far as Salem was aware, existed in the same universe as a Paladinian, it was a functionality he'd never bothered turning on. So, was Ewa truly a Paladinian? And if so, was she from his home universe? And if so... could she be his key to getting back?
Salem ordered the wall/door of his "closet" open and stepped out, quickly, and began walking down the ship's ramp, his head covered in a hood, his black cloak billowing out behind him as he walked. The spurs on his now-black cowboy boots clanked audibly as he walked, and where the cloak blew back, it revealed what looked a bit like a blue-gray flight suit... or at least it would have, without the visible shoulder pads and plating.
"You're Paladinian!?" he asked incredulously, approaching Ewa. He stopped in front of her and looked her up and down. Of course, there was no way to tell a Paladinian on sight alone under most circumstances. He narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, then smiled and took down his hood, "Sorry, just not expecting to meet a Paladinian here. Nice to see somebody from a respectable species. It's nothing but Yeerks and primitive Humans and blue grass-munching dirtbags lately. So tell me... Ewa, right? How is it that a Paladinian ends up in this little place?"
Al had straightened from his bow when Salem exited the ship, and looked at Ewa with some surprise. He gave a slight whistle, "I sure hope you meant to look human, because you sure as heck pull it off." He frowned, "So... you're not who you said you were?"
-
~Raile~
"Count Dooku...a venerated Jedi apprenticed himself to the Sith Lord known as Palpatine. The very same Sith that maneuvered his way into the Supreme Chancellor's chair and then wrested all power away from the Galactic Senate. Worse, Anakin Skywalker...rumored to be the one who would fulfill the prophecy of returning balance to the Force...turned on us. He...killed many. And the Army that had been cloned for the Republic had also been programmed to turn on the Jedi apparently at Palpatine's leisure. Nothing else could account for the multiple simultaneous deaths, bolstered by our own Clones turning on us." He lowers his eyes. "So many died..."
-
Garreth bowed his head for a moment's silence, then picked up his head and slung his arm around Raile's shoulders and guided him back toward the bar, "We really need to drive our conversations away from your past. Perhaps meeting someone else would shape our conversations to a better form."
-
Keshin watches some of Ossanlin's eyes travel to him and groans. It was pretty clear that the Andalite wasn't going to either trust them or leave them alone. And considering the entire rebel gang seemed caught up in something, it was almost best to leave them alone for the time being. Oddly enough, his best chance of getting anything done at all was with Jocun. Keshin wandered over to his table and glanced at him with a grin.
"You seem pretty confused," stated Keshin with a slight grin. "This isn't your Bar, isn't your time period, and you're surrounded by vigilantes. What in the world was it like in your Yeerk Empire, anyway? Did we all suddenly decide to hold hands and kiss Andalite butt? I never could get much of a bead on it other than its similarity to rebellion doctrine."
******************************************************************************************************************************************
Mar frowns, flashing back to the strange incident they both participated in outside the Bar. "It...still makes very little sense. For reasons I cannot fathom, I chose to assist you in destroying a universal flaw. I have seen things of that kind before. But still...doing so might have caused me damage under the wrong circumstances. Sticking with such foolish ideals has caused me nothing but trouble in past incarnations. I should...avoid what I appear to be attempting before it twists me again. All you seem to find with kinship is pain."
-
"He's not babysitting you right now, is he?" Myitt asks Tamora gently.
Distracted, she turns back to Ossanlin. "Yeah. Pretty much what I thought you were going to say. So that's all settled, welcome to next year." Her tone is flat, grim.
-
"we don't kiss Andalite butt. We own Andalite butt. In a way, at least. They have rights just like everyone else. A lot of Yeerks didn't like what the original Council did, but the Council had the Kandrona and a lot of Vissers that were loyal to them. In the last great battle, a lot of Vissers died. In fact most of the people loyal to the Council died in the last glorious push on the Andalite homeworld. Instead of sending grunts to do their work, the glory hounds wanted to be there personally to get credit. The Visser who studied Humans so much and succeeded in the operation to sieze the Human Homeworld was put in charge of the onslaught against the andalites, though many other Vissers had roles in it."
"After the war was over, the Yeerk Empire was more or less in shambles. It took time to regroup, and in that time people started saying they didn't want another war. The Council couldn't do much. They didn't have enough loyal Vissers to enforce their rule, and couldn't use the threat of genocide to scare their people into complacency. There was an uprising. A bit of civil conflict. A new Empre rose from the ashes, and the only conflict left was inner conflict. One of the top debates was how to treat hosts, though obviously that wasn't the only issue. We don't all hold hands and sing songs of peace and love, but we also don't expand our borders, and we don't have much reason to opress hosts aside from some that think ruling the galaxy also means being superior to the hosts that allow us to have what we have."
<Please just tell us everything so we can get this over and done with, instead of hiding the Gregnat in the scoop.> Claxter said.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin blinks as more memories return. <But what Corliss did was the lesser of evils...yes, it was you...your Council that wanted to do something horrendous. And Corliss stopped you with his actions.> He squeezes his eyes shut, pulse pounding in his ears as sharp pains pass through his brain, and then are gone just as quickly. He glances at Mar. <It is not all you gain, and you will never know if you do not let it happen.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _____________
~Raile~
Raile shakes his head. "I rather like the fresh air, I think I'll stay out here for a time. You may return if you so desire, Garreth. You have already done me a great favor, I would not ask more of you."
-
Keshin gives Jocun an utterly skeptical expression, as if someone just said that you could cure world hunger. Which was pretty much what Jocun's Yeerk Empire appears to have done. "Excuse me, but that Imperial line almost has to be bull****," says Keshin sardonically. "I realize all the power-hungry Vissers died in a fire, but the propaganda shoved down our throats was an institution. New, equally arrogant Vissers would just come and replace the dead ones, and the Rebellion members are in a minority. Even with a civil war at hand the idea of cooperating with host bodies at all is totally foreign to the average Yeerk. I realize this is exactly what happened, but..."
Keshin smirks slightly. "...I really doubt the hosts are treated with the kind of equality you're describing. They're probably more along the lines of second-class citizens who conform because they've been inundated with it since birth. I could be dead wrong, but I haven't seen one intelligent race on any planet without arbitrary hate. Except maybe the Taxxons, out of necessity."
******************************************************************************************************************************************
Mar almost snarls, a sneer crawling across his face. Even without the centuries of memories that prove the War-Prince wrong, Mar has had enough bitterness to last him. The comment just brings that dull ache back into his heart. "I know a great deal about friendships, Ossanlin. I know that power and greed often rules above kindness. I know friends who have killed to take my assets and friends who could no longer stand to be around me. I know instances where I have been abandoned for no fault of my own, and parents that hate their own children." This last comment causes Mar to visibly shake. The interesting thing about being mortal, Mar has found, is that many more emotions than he's used to come to the surface.
"You seem to be something of a bleeding heart, War-Prince," mutters Mar, the emotions lowering to a cool simmer. "But are you suggesting that you would hold my heart dear no matter what occurred?"
-
Tamora nods, trying to take solace from that fact.
"I don't like it when he isn't here," she admits, biting her lip. "He's always the one with the good ideas. He's the Yeerk, the smart one. I'm just...human." She shrugs. "My place isn't here in the front of things. I'm supposed to sit back and help when I can."
-
"There ar still Yeerks who treat hosts like second class citizens. There is still conflict. But it's...how would you understand? Take a look at Human culture. At one time people killed each other right and left without consequences because someone was royalty and the other guy was a peasant. Females of our host's species were treated as property or just big children that it was acceptable to breed with. Eventually equality came around. sure there were problems here and there, but in most developed society it was frowned upon to treat people without equality."
"Of course we're talking about something different here. Different species, and one of which has nearly complete control over the other. If I didn't want simon to move his body, there isn't really anything he can do about it while I'm inside him. However we don't have complexes where lines of hosts are led to and from pools and sit in cages when they are uninfested. Ideally society tends to improve over time. We get better at surviving, lives get easier due to technology, and barriers come down. I can't say exactly why Human society improved the way it did, and I suppose I can't say exactly why Yeerk society did. Maybe it's just that people in power rely on other people to follow them. When those people stop following them, they lose most of their power. If you opress, you rely on like minded people to help you opress. When you lose them, you lose your ability to control others. death happens in war, and when you send your most loyal people to the front lines, they're the ones that die. Of course the more ambitious and bloodthirsty or ruthless will want to be in the action, and are more likely to bite it."
"What would you accept as proof that I'm telling the truth? I suppose any host you talk to could just be brainwashed? Of course a memory dump is out of the question."
-
Parker shrugs, "Well, I can't give mine up if I had the choice, not that I'd want to." He continued to survey the conversations and absorb as much intel as he could. It certainly has helped piece together what he had missed in the year he was gone.
Garreth released Raile and gave him a bow. Before leaving to the bar, he looked back to Raile and added, "Remember, good thoughts from here on out." He gives him a wink and heads back towards the bar.
-
~Ossanlin~
He glances at Mar again, giving him more attention. <What I hold dear is the greater good, Mar. I do what I must, and pay the price. I suppose in your terms, the price I would have to pay to end our friendship in an unfavorable manner is one I would do much to avoid.>
-
Keshin thinks on what Jocun is trying to say, still a bit baffled. The Empire he came from was far less human in both its logic and its treatment of others. Subordinate Yeerks could be murdered by superior Vissers and almost no one would care. Friendships could be broken at the drop of a hat and kinship meant nothing. It was as if the vast majority of Yeerks had taken human hosts and absorbed some of their morality.
<Actually, Kess...that might've been it. They got human bodies an' ended up a lil' human themselves. Lookin' with diff'rent eyes. Didn' you say that's how it was?>
<...yes. The influence of the host upon the Yeerk.>
Keshin closes his eyes and states, "....I believe you. But you must have noticed that what you offer is confusing to practically everyone here. You're coming into a time and place where love is a temporary illusion at best with Yeerks. At worst, it's illegal. Where everyone is at war. The entire Bar can break out into a fight in barely an hour. People here are going to find you really damn suspicious, okay?" ******************************************************************************************************************************************
Mar glances at Ossanlin quietly, vivid memories surfacing of the battles between the bounty hunter, over Terenia, and many other instances that have crossed the Bar. They have a sort of bond here, temporary as such things may be. But there is one thing Mar does not and refuses to understand. "...what would you call the greater good, War-Prince? That which saves the greatest number of people? That doesn't honestly sound like what occurred with that brat Terenia. Many patrons were wounded or killed over the insanity of one broken mind. My problem, you see...is that I cannot accept a world that believes in such a thing. Someone always falls, Ossanlin."
Mar looks at the Andalite carefully for a moment and mutters, "Judging from your actions and your constant presence at this Bar, I'm not so sure you really believe in it either. Why not forget the greater good and aim to help those that really matter?"
-
"I guess that doesn't make this the best idea of a vacation spot. Especially without several of my people around to make sure someone doesn't randomly attack me like that invisible person did." Jocun said. "Though I'm not sure I want to run out of a place where the only Imperial these people has ever seen is a warmongering self serving speciesist."
-
Garreth walked inside the bar. He observed that most patrons were intently watching one booth in particular. It held a combination of Humans, a being looking like a Cathar (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Cathar), and a couple of blue Chironian (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Chironian)-esque characters. This place was certainly strange. Garreth remembered the being that resembled the Cathar. He has the dark aura that had brought great discomfort to Garreth. Although the larger of the two Chironians had an amazingly light aura. It was refreshing to "see" his kind with the dark one near by. Garreth looked out the front window and noticed a couple of people fighting. It looked to be for sport. So he decided to pass through the building to watch the exhibition closer. He stood opposite two ladies who were also watching the clash. He called out, "You two seem to be doing more posturing than actual fighting." It was a tease, to spur action. Hopefully they wouldn't take it too far.
-
"That's his fault. Not mine. I thought this would be fun, but he's done nothing but prance around like he's afraid of hurting me or something. Look at this hide. It's not just for looks, you know." The Draconian said.
-
Ewa's brow creased in confusion as Al made what was apparently a farewell-bow. Ohh, you do not get to ditch me that easily you over-acting--leaving? Leaving leaving? Then you've known how to get out all along, so you weren't really trapped here, then... oh. Wait. But there was. And you don't shift--impossible.
Her mind scattered in about five different directions in the space of that moment. A slower, more practical corner was still formulating some sort of innocuous response that would convey confusion, concern, and probably a decent touch of hurt betrayal when Salem strode down to join them.
There was a universal hiccough through her thoughts as Ewa saw the terrible hodge-podge Salem had dressed himself in. Clearly he had help before. Really shouldn't be left on his own. The pieces of her mind were just gearing up to get back to more important thoughts when Salem opened his mouth and completely derailed everything she had been thinking about.
Some people recognize internal panic as a roaring within their ears, but Ewa experienced a profound sense of static--unbearably quiet, overwhelmingly loud, disruptive, deadening. It crested over her such deceptive stealth that most of her conscious mind was unaware of it. In that moment, Ewa couldn't even tell for sure that she was panicking--all of her thoughts had disintegrated as though they never were.
Heartbeat seems a bit fast, came one of the thoughts through the static.
They look like they're waiting for something... me? Oh, they want a response.
If she had any idea what the response was supposed to be for or what sort of response she should give, the knowledge had been swallowed in the roaring quiet in her head.
"That's... umm. You seem to have lost me partway through that." Her eyes slid back and forth between the two people in front of her, everything feeling stretched and distant.
Another thought bubbled to the surface while her eyes were on the one without a cape. "You're leaving just like that, then? It's that dangerous? And I..." Ewa was faintly pleased with the words, painted with emotions, that slipped past her lips, but she had the odd impression that something was off....
Ahh, there were supposed to be facial expressions to go with those, weren't there?
She ran through the set that seemed to correspond with the words. It probably didn't make much difference if they were only a few seconds late, after all.
Ewa returned to feeling distantly pleased with herself.
-
"Yeah, that...that's pretty much how it all went, Ossanlin," Myitt sighs. She shakes her head. "You don't remember?"
She glances at Tamora. "Look, kid, you need to have confidence in your own damn ability to make decisions without Zorish around. Okay?" Her tone is insistent, but not harsh. "You're just as smart as he is, I bet you anything."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin frowns and Mar, his tail swishing idly before he speaks. <The greater good is subjective, Mar. I do what I think is right, and I pay the price. I try to save what can be saved, to help what can be helped, and to do what is good and right by those I meet. It is not so black and white as you seem to think, Mar...this incarnation would've understood what I was saying had you not destroyed its emotional capabilities.>
He glances back at Myitt again. <I...do not know what I remember. I collapsed some time ago, after reverting Terenia. According to the others, I was unintelligible for quite some time. During that time, I saw things...like images of myself doing things, experiencing things, that I'd never done or experienced as far as I know. I do not understand it myself.>
-
"I'm not," Tamora says, shaking her head. "I can't be. I'm just a human. Yeerks are...they're much more advanced than us." She glances fearfully up at Ossanlin, then back at Myitt. "The...person the Andalite is talking about," she murmurs, lowering her voice slightly, "is my sister, Teresa, right? What does he mean by 'reverting' her?"
Tamora does not address Ossanlin directly, not having anywhere near the courage to do such a thing.
Keslin sighs a little, leaning back against the bar table as he watches the conversation take place across the room. He glances over at Parker. "You said you've been trapped here a year, eh?" he says. "Have you seen many more rebels?"
-
Parker replied, "A few. The only rebels I've come to know are Myitt, Corliss, and yourself; though they do bring friends along. I travelled here by Slipspace. It seems I'm the only person here who has. Everyone else has come by Z-space or Hyperspace; so no one's been able to get me home. I can only hope someone else from my universe comes here; or anyone travelling by Slipspace. I'm also certain Thor would enjoy having more to do than scan vitals and keep track of conversations for a change. I'm sure this time has been agonizing for him."
-
"Thor?" Keslin asks, tilting his head to the side. "Who might that be? I thought you came alone."
-
"Your sister was allowed to return to her human form, after being trapped in morph twice, as both a Yeerk and an Andalite," Myitt explains patiently. She rolls her eyes. "Don't ask me how, it's Ossanlin's pan-dimensional stardust manipulation. I don't understand it."
She sits back, sighing. "Tamora, you'll never find your sense of self-worth if you don't admit that you can make decisions, even good and smart decisions, on your own without Zorish." She gestures to her chest. "Do you think my host sits back here whining all day about how much smarter I am? ****, no. We accept that we're equals, even if we came from different places and have different technologies. We're equals as people."
-
Parker held out his hand, palm upward. He replied, "I'm sorry, I thought I had mentioned him."
Thor made his usual entrance, a hologram of a man kneeling, face down, appears on Parker's hand. He is wearing ancient Nordic animal skins. He rests his hand on a large headed hammer with a short handle. The man stands to a full height of 7" and rests the hammer against his shoulder. He bows his head to Chris/Keslin and speaks using Parker's helmet speakers, "Greetings, I am Thor. I am an artificial intelligence construct."
Parker rolls his eyes at Thor's entrance and explains, "Thor is the A.I. that was responsible for the ship on which I came here. We have a protocol that states we cannot leave a ship's A.I. onboard if the ship is about to be destroyed or abandoned; so I took him into my suit and jumped onto this planetoid."
-
"My sister should be dead," Tamora says flatly, her nervous expression briefly shifting into one of anger and betrayal. She does not press the issue, though, having no desire to dwell on her own past. Instead, she inspects Myitt for a moment, absorbing her words.
"I don't whine to Zorish," she says, licking her lips, gaining some semblence of confidence. "I just...know how things are. There's a reason he's the one in control all of the time. There's a reason your people evolved the way they did. You're supposed to be dominant." She shrugs a little, not seeming bothered by the idea.
"You really consider yourself equal to your host?" she asks. "Why, when you are clearly stronger? If she fought for control, you would win."
"Artificial intelligence," Keslin repeats, looking at the hologram with interest. "That must be useful." He gives the little holographic man a wave and a sheepish grin. "Hello, Thor. Pleased to meet you."
-
"The realities of our biological connection doesn't mean she's any less of a person, Tamora," Myitt says, growing bored with the girl's mealy insistence on her own inferiority. "Weren't you in control of your own body for most of your life? And doesn't Zorish care about you? Just because he can take control when he likes, doesn't mean he has to, and it doesn't mean you don't have the right to your own body and your own damn opinions."
She shakes her head, watching the human with sad incredulity. "They really got to you, didn't they?"
-
"What do you mean, 'got to me'?" Tamora demands, shifting uncomfortably. "I have always been treated well, within the Empire. I know my place, so I am not demeaned or put in a cage. Zorish is kind to me, and yes, he cares about me. I have my own opinions, but he sees them and knows them and can act upon them if he wants to."
She shakes her head, truly uncomprehending. "Before Zorish, I was nobody. I'm not stupid, I know I'm weak. I know I'm a coward, and alone in this war I would...I would die almost immediately." Unbidden, her eyes water, but the tears do not fall. "When I was a kid, Teresa protected me. Then she abandoned me. Now Zorish protects me, and if I am a good host, maybe he will not run away like she did." She shrugs, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I couldn't handle losing him. I love him."
-
"Yeah, I know you do," Myitt replies softly. "But people who love you back, they don't want you to feel inferior. Before this war my host wasn't weak or a coward, and I couldn't convince myself that I was the only reason she's survived this long. We're both just as strong, we just have our own ways of showing it, that's all. She might not have spaceships or fancy technology, but she knows how to survive in the woods of Earth far better than I do. I would die without her, in plenty of situations."
-
"He loves me," Tamora says fiercely. "He protects me. He keeps me safe." She hugs her arms, feeling cold and alone without him. "I hate this war," she murmurs, staring down at the table, several tears finally spilling over and tracking down her cheeks. "I can't make myself be brave. I'm not my sister." She swallows hard. "Teresa left me because she got sick of protecting me. You don't think..." she shakes her head, talking more to herself now than Myitt. "No, Zorish would never do that. You're right. He needs me. He's never had another human host, and he does love me, I'm sure of it. Even if he won't say as much." Her breathing hitches and she presses her palms to her eyes, trying to stop herself from crying further. "I don't want to be weak," she says, clearly disgusted by herself.
-
Myitt watches Tamora, unable to make herself reach out to help the human girl, curling her fingers back and hiding them in her lap.
"You're not weak, Tamora," she says quietly. "And you're not alone. I hate this ****ing war, too."
-
Parker lets his hand fall to his side, but Thor doesn't move from his current position. He now appears to be floating on nothing. Parker comments, "Extremely. This suit enhances my speed and reaction time plenty by interacting with my brain. With Thor, or any other A.I, he makes the communication between suit and brain even faster. With his sensors and constant reports, it's like I can know when someone's going to fire at me the moment the do it. I don't have to wait for a sound to reach my ear, or see a flash. He is constantly reading my environment, others vitals, brainwave patterns, etc. If someone intends me or anyone I care about, hell, even if I just know them and want to keep tabs on them, Thor will bring my attention to it immediately. It's literally like a sixth sense."
Parker nods toward Jocun and Keshin/Joanne, "For example, Myitt threw that drink in his face, and now he's talking to that bounty hunter over there. I'm having Thor monitor their conversation and told him to report to me if Jocun there tries to hire them. He's also monitoring the exhibition going on outside and making sure it stays friendly. If it turns, he'll let me know; whether I do something about it is up in the air though."
-
"It's awful," Tamora says emphatically. "I just want it to end." She sighs, slumping back into the booth and watching Myitt with cautious gray eyes. "What will happen to...to people like Zorish if your rebellion wins?" she asks.
"That so?" Keslin asks, glancing over at the indicated table. "I pity the turelek who attempts to collect Myitt's bounty. Even if they are successful, they will have two rather loyal brothers to answer for, and a large chunk of the rebellion besides. She is more well-loved than I think she realizes." A small, fond smile reaches his lips. The smile is entirely Chris', but the way a pink flush creeps across his freckled face is all Keslin.
-
Parker tilts his head slightly, "'Loved', huh?" he looks over to Myitt's table and recalls when she was being playful with another of her table he hadn't met, "Interesting choice of words." He notices Chris's face warming, "Disconcerting to know you have competition, huh?"
-
"Competition?" At this Chris' face turns an astonishing shade of red, and he diverts his gaze to the floor. "No, there is no...we aren't..."
<<Christ almighty, Keslin, let me,>> Chris remarks. Keslin gladly gives up control, and as soon as Chris is back in the driver seat the flush begins to fade, replaced by a small smirk.
"First off, armor-boy, I've got myself my own girl, and she's a million times less surly than Myitt over there," Chris says brightly, taking a sip of beer. "Yeah, I used to have a thing for her host, but that was almost a decade ago." He shrugs. "Kes here has a little difficulty coming to grips with human emotions sometimes." He rolls his eyes and rotates a single finger around his temple, in the universal sign for 'crazy'. "He still hasn't quite gotten over the fact that he, uh, accidentally had a little recreational fun with them, if you catch my meaning."
He grins, his face almost entirely back to its natural fairness, only his splattering of freckles standing out. "What Kes really doesn't want to admit is how much he li-"
Keslin cuts his host off abruptly, pressing Chris' lips into a thin line to keep the words in. After a moment of internal struggling he gives Parker a small, nervous smile. "Chris' and my partner, Tess, is wonderful. Illim and Myitt are happy together. I would never wish to interfere with their relationship. I am merely protective over those I have known for a long while."
-
Parker smiled behind his helmet, "'Armor boy', huh?" He nods, "Okay, meat-vehicle. So you're not competing; doesn't mean he's not competition. Whether or not the flame is old, that blush showed it's still aflame. So you got a girl; doesn't mean he's got a girl." He directs the rest of his response to Keslin, who's now back in control, "Human emotions are odd. I thought I was above them until I crashed here. It's hard to let go of the first person to bring those feelings to bear." He looks out of the front window and sees Silver watching the exhibition fight.
-
Keshin grins wryly at Jocun's statement. Pretty much all the Imperials and most Yeerks he knew were "warmongering self-serving species-ists." It was a side effect of growing up in a culture that fed off and was born in war. He dimly wondered what on Earth Yeerks did in this war-less future: play Pong? Invest in the Yeerk Stock Exchange?
<Go on crappy camping trips and play volleyball?>
<Oh shut it.>
<Y'know, it mighta been a good plan but it was the dorkiest invasion ever.>
Keshin rubs his forehead, rolling his eyes. He then glances back at Jocun. "Yeah, not a good place for a vacation. No one's heard of you, but at least half the Bar is deciding whether or not to kill you. Me, I'm just wondering whether you've made any enemies you need me to kill. And what you plan to do next."
************************************************************************************************************
"That makes you a bit of an outlier for your race, from what I've heard," mutters Mar. He has a tired, sardonic look about him. He wants to trust Ossanlin, in truth. And Ossanlin's dicussion with Myitt is bringing up a couple interesting points. What exactly did the War-Prince see while he was out? .....hmm.
"I'm guessing that Ossanlin saw another place and time," says Mar with a sharp look at Myitt. "Some other him in the vast multiverse. Doing heaven knows what. For the War-Prince to get this confused, the two realities must be very close. I brought him out, but I am certain there are lingering after-effects of what we did."
-
"As I said before, there is a Gedd controller from my universe that doesn't share my views." Jocun said quietly. "I could order him to leave, but he'd likely just get suspicious. It would be better just to watch him, in case he tries anything. There is also that invisible thing that tried to kill Salem. I'd like to know more about that. No one else has really bothered me. Myitt threw alchohol at me for interrupting her conversation, but of course I'm not going to do a rebel any harm. especially for a minor slight."
-
"You misunderstand," Keslin says, his eyes darting over to where Myitt is seated. "Chris and myself both love Tess very much. She was with us for nine years of exile, and she has never once hesitated during my moments of...weakness." He looks down at his hands again, before stuffing them in his pocket to hide their trembling. "Myitt is a dear friend, as is her host, Tara. If my physical reaction is indicative of anything it is the inappropriateness of our actions so many years ago. We were not in our right minds, and our judgment was clouded."
<<Sometimes I wish you were not the freckled, pale-faced human that you are,>> Keslin grates to Chris. <<I dislike how clearly your emotions show through. How did you manage to grow up without being mistaken for a tomato at every turn?>>
<<Hey, man, your emotions, not mine,>> Chris protests. <<You're just using my face to display them. Can't help you there.>>
-
Parker nodded, letting the matter drop. He asks, "So what did you do for so long without the rebellion? The others seem to make it out that if you aren't in either the rebellion or the empire, you're doomed."
-
Chris takes control again immediately, grinning. "We formed our own rebellion," he says proudly. "The pirate rebellion." He curls his fingers to resemble a hook and swipes at the air with a hearty 'arrr!' before picking his beer back up and contorting his face into some semblance of seriousness.
"There weren't many of us, a couple dozen. We traveled around in ships, tried to stay alive and live off the goodness of the Skrit Na." He snorts derisively at this. "But we managed to cause the Empire a bit of damage, and they ran themselves ragged trying to find us. It's hard to do when you spend all your time in a ship, with no permanent base." He takes a deep swig of beer. "Although, I will say this. If you are prone to cabin fever, do not spend nine years on a ship built for two."
-
Parker raises an eyebrow behind his helmet and tilts his head toward Chris, "I live inside a suit of armor. I don't think cabin fever would be an issue for me." He leans back and continues, "Impressive though, staying alive that long on your own. So what was it that finally brought you back into the fold?"
-
Myitt watches Tamora for a long moment, spinning her glass slowly between her hands.
"I don't know," she says quietly, shrugging, as if it were inconsequential.
-
Salem watched for a moment as Ewa seemed to stop in her tracks. He ****ed his head- something was odd about her. He'd met Paladinians before, and they'd always seemed lucid enough. Granted, he hadn't met many, but this one certainly seemed to have some issues.
His suspicions were confirmed by her seemingly confused response, followed by a series of facial twitches. She'd seemed far more cognizant when he'd briefly spoken to her earlier.
"Not... leaving, no. What gave you that idea?" he asked her.
Salem raised his eyebrows at Al, but the android merely shrugged and said, "Ewa, you feeling okay?"
Salem shook his head. He needed to talk to Ewa, it was true, and gather as much information on her as he could, but for now, he had more pressing matters. He looked around, scanning the treeline for signs of activity- with his tracking system of Rathien disrupted, there was no telling when the hunter might show up, and he didn't want to be caught unprepared.
"Al," he said, before Ewa could respond, "I need to talk to you. Stuff we need to do. We shouldn't be in the open." he jerked his head at Ewa- was she trustworthy to hear this? he seemed to be asking.
Al glanced from Ewa to Salem. He swallowed and nodded, "Sure, let's go talk in the bar."
Salem turned and began heading for the door, but Al held back, concern showing on his face for the confused Paladinian.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien breathes deeply as his medical facilities aid in the radiation cleansing process. He rolls his eyes, cursing under his breath. Why had those others acted like Tobias's lackeys? He had had him, and they intervene for what seems to be no particular reason.
He looks over to the rack holding his clothing, armor, and weapons already cleaned and dried since his plunge into the lake. He'd lost four good darts for nothing. The computer beeps at him to stop moving and he growls in frustration as he turns his head back to look straight up at the ceiling of his med-bay, completely nude to enhance the speed of the radiation cleansing. It is simply not his day...
-
(OOC: I'm just gonna have Bivsitz have left and come back in?)
The Sheyran--an octoped, looking rather symmetric--walks into the restaurant and approaches the bar. "This hole again," it mutters in Galard. "Let's see if you don't have any breen back there. Served in a short, wide bowl, if you please."
The silent bartender dutifully complies, and Bivsitz begins sipping it slowly.
-
Parker eyes the weird octoped that wanders in and up to the bar. Since both conversations he was surveying weren't really going anywhere; and his conversation with Chris died down, Parker asked the being, "You don't see that many amphibious octopi. Where are you from?"
-
"By birth? The planet Runtil. Although I've spent the last...third of its year in the Desbadeen system, on a business trip. Believe me, even I see more of my species than I'd like to sometimes."
-
Parker nodded, "You're an outlaw too, huh? There seem to be a lot of them here."
-
"Outlaw?" Bivsitz snapped, fiddling with another short silver tube in one back claw. "What do you take me for! Just...certain political differences with my useless co-workers."
-
Parker noticed the being playing with a silver tube. He tensed a tad, nothing noticeable. He knew not to underestimate an innocent looking bar of metal. His mind was pulled to his Energy sword at his thigh; it too was just an innocent hunk of warped metal. Until the blade is activated of course. Parker calmly replied, "So just an outcast then." He didn't want to ask for details; he had hoped to just coax the information from the being's own free will.
-
"Oh, I wouldn't say that--exactly. But I'm in no rush to get back to the home system, either. Glad I found this place on the first trip out...it's a bit out of the way, I had no idea it was here. Good for procrastinating."
-
Parker nodded, "Yeah, the only people who know of this place's existence are those who've stumbled upon it before. Problem is, unless you know exactly how to get back; it's a **** to find your way back here. It took me the better part of a year to find this place again."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin glances at Mar again as the being speaks. <I am very little like the rest of my species in a philosophical manner, Mar. You knew this already. As for what I saw, I do not know what it is or what it represents. Perhaps a tangent whereupon I left this bar instead of staying. I remember interactions with the Rebellion that have never occurred as far as I can tell. I remember some rather unfortunate events...if this Myitt is from the same Universe as myself, as the one that left, it leaves some rather paradoxical implications...>
-
Ewa watched distantly as one of the people in front of her looked around and then started walking away. It seemed like there was something she was supposed to do.... say.... but she wasn't sure why. I'm just watching from the other side of a watery glass aren't I? But she wasn't supposed to be. Something about it all felt off, wrong in that creeping sort of way that starts down in your bones and consumes your body before you have a chance to rationalize it.
She reached back in her mind, trying to find a thread of conversation or action or something to give her some continuity to work with--some sort of indication of what she was supposed to be. It was like trying to catch a single snowflake in the middle of a blizzard. Nothing separated. Nothing clarified.
The second one stopped and looked back at her. He seemed.... concerned. Yes, concerned. There was something....
"Bar," Ewa enunciated slowly, as though the word itself was fragile and uncertain. She took a deep breath and blinked a few times. Things seemed to settle behind her eyes, though nothing made sense yet.
"That would be....good," she volunteered somewhat uncertainly. A breath later she moved to follow the others.
As she reached the one in the tux Ewa experienced a dissociative moment where she felt she should tuck her arm through his. She even got so far as half-raising her hand before she noticed her skin wasn't as wrinkled as she thought it should be. Nor was she wearing the silk dress she ought to be. I really didn't hobble over here like I should have though, so something must have been wrong before that...
She looked back at the man with a question in her eyes.
-
Salem wandered into the bar and looked around. Busy in here again. That was good. Rathien would probably be less likely to try something. Of course, whether Rathien was even trying to kill him anymore wasn't certain at this point. This situation had to be dealt with.
He narrowed his eyes as he spotted Jocun- he owed the controller for his scans, but Salem was becoming increasingly suspicious of the Yeerk, and now he and Keshin were talking quietly. He hoped their conversation wasn't about him, and if it was, he hoped Keshin wouldn't betray him, but the truth was, mercenaries were always unknowns.
Salem shook himself slightly and glanced at the table where the largest gathering seemed to be- there were a number of strangers, but he had to smile when he spotted Myitt, giving a slight nod in her direction once he caught her eye. They'd left each other on a relatively high note, and he hadn't expected her back so soon.
Salem slid quietly into one of the empty booths near the wall and waited impatiently for Al. As he did so, he closed his eyes and tried to "see" each of the members of the bar using his newfound sense. He was getting better with it. He still couldn't exactly pinpoint positions or tell one being from another, but at least he was becoming relatively certain about the number and relative positions of those nearest him.
Al frowned- something was definitely wrong. Ewa seemed... extremely disoriented. Could it have been something she ate? He thought back, but nothing he remembered her taking in should be any more harmful to a Paladinian than it would to a human. So... drugged? By someone after Salem? Rathien after Salem?
"Come on," he said, putting on a soft smile and reaching for the hand she'd begun to lift to lead her inside. "Let's get you sitting down. A little water couldn't hurt either." He looked concernedly into her eyes, "Ewa, how are you feeling?"
-
"A bit jumbled," Ewa replied, relaxing slightly at the physical contact. It was grounding, if not quite as comforting as she expected. A moment later she realized she had responded to "Ewa" and.... that can't be right, we're in... oh, wait, no. That was.... It's okay. She couldn't quite piece together why it was okay--or why she had initially thought it wasn't?--but if it meant one less thing to worry about, this didn't seem the time to question it.
She felt even better once they managed to get within sight of the bar. Memories and impressions began to stick out and order themselves and she sighed in relief. "I think I've had some kind of identity aphasia, but it's coming back now." She looked over at Al, frowning slightly. "I hope it wasn't disruptive to anything? Though I guess I would have been removed if it was..." She trailed off as they reached the door.
-
Parker noticed Salem re-entering the bar. He seemed to be interested that Jocun was chatting with Keshin as well. After he had sat in the booth, Parker almost felt compelled to sit down and inquire about the assassin. When he saw Salem close his eyes, he thought better of it and let him rest. He could always ask another time.
-
Jocun saw Salem, and was about to wave him over, but the trader narrowed his eyes at him. Was he still suspicious about something. He thought Jocun was hiding something still? He sat down and closed his eyes, so maybe he was still under the effects of whatever the intruder put into him. Or maybe just tired from something else. He really wanted more information on the invisible assassin, but he didn't want to pester Salem.
-
Al smiled at Ewa. There was something he was missing here. She still seemed aware of her surroundings... but "identity aphasia" wasn't exactly a common term. The way she spoke it, though, made it sound like it might be almost expected.
"Not disruptive, unless you count the fact that you've got me worried about you," he said, pushing the door open. "Take a few minutes, have a drink, and we'll have you back on your feet in no time." He motioned the bartender over and ordered a glass of water to be sent to the table for Ewa.
She'd said she'd have been 'removed?' What would she be removed from? Something he was missing. If she was Paladinian... she may be with a Guild or an independent Paladinian movement... but there was no way to tell, and that assumption wasn't going to get him anywhere anyway. There were a number of professions he could think of wherein 'identity aphasia' would be a relatively common term- in recent decades, Paladinians had begun assuming identities other than their own with increasing frequency. He'd seen it done for their 'scapes'- a budding form of entertainment designed to appeal to the most affluent of clients- on a few occasions, and was at least familiar with the concept.
So... was she undercover? Did that make any sense, this far away from anything remotely Paladinian? Regardless of whether she was 'independent' or sanctioned, it probably made the most sense that she was an undercover 'scouter' sent to gain information on new areas or materials. It was considered dangerous work, but Al thought it sounded somewhat romantic and exciting. Then again, there was always the chance that she was actually working for the Alphoid government directly... but wouldn't they have masked her DNA signature as well? Or... did they do that? It wasn't Al's area of expertise, and he was far from sure.
So... more likely a Scouter. It was a long shot, but if he could get her to talk about where she was from, she might be willing to give more information as well.
"Ewa," he said, lowering his voice and putting on a gentle smile as he led her towards the booth in which Salem was sitting, "I need some information, in case this happens again, and we can have you safely removed. Have to know who to contact." He wasn't entirely comfortable with trying to trick her like this, but as he saw it, this was the best way to keep her at her ease while potentially unraveling some of the mystery surrounding her.
-
Parker observed Al and a woman's entrance. He hadn't met her before. He'd certainly seen her; but never had he been introduced. When Al set them down at Salem's table, he took the chance and left Chris at the bar. He excused himself and said, "I'll catch ya later."
He approached the table and stood "at ease"; a formal stance, but comfortable enough to not unnerve others. He said to Al, "Al, it's been a small while. Who's your friend? I noticed her before; but was preoccupied to inquire." He looked to the woman as he explained to Al (and her by proxy) why he hadn't asked before. He was clearly inviting the woman to answer the question; showing her he wasn't ignoring her or treating her as though she wasn't there.
-
Ewa frowned as she sat down next to Salem. "How could you not know who to contact?" she asked Al in clear confusion. I wouldn't be consulting without an invitation, but even if I was.... ? .... Even if I was he couldn't NOT know my Family. Even if they knew almost nothing about human portrayal which they... She looked around at the bar's eclectic collection of patrons. They clearly don't. These thoughts were starting to feel more familiar again. She glanced over to her left, at Salem, and a small muscle in her cheek twitched. Who let him get away with that outfit and how did I end up sitting here? Her eyes darted away quickly, but then she frowned and turned back rather candidly. "You do realize that you look ridiculous, right? Did I tell you that already?"
Partway through her questions some sort of armored mechanoid approached the table, pulling her attention away before Salem could respond. What sort of production could they be prepping for? Her lips compressed momentarily before her face cleared in a politely neutral expression that seemed appropriate for the level of formality. With a small flick, her eyes moved to Al as she waited for him to complete the introduction.
-
Julian noticed the competition wasn't coming to any conclusions, and that was a first for him. He was impressed that his opponent had kept him dodging for so long.
"Well, friend, we've been out here for some time. What do you say we call it a draw and get a drink?"
-
"You're probably right. This wasn't as exciting as I thought it would be, though I can tell you have some skill. Nice form, at least." Zoshonel said. He went inside and found a seat. He didn't feel thirsty right now, so he just made himself comfortable and watched the crowd.
-
Julian walked back into the bar and ordered himself a drink. He looked around, trying to get an idea of who was around at the time. Things were pretty quiet at the moment, Morgan had told him some of the crazy things that went on at this bar, but so far..nothing.
"Usually this quiet?" Julian asked Zoshnel.
-
"It wasn't this quiet last time I was here. It's a lull, which can be good or bad." He said. "This will speed up soon enough, hopefully."
-
When Ewa sat down, Salem's lips drew tight, and at her comment about Salem's attire, he merely smirked at her. His expression grew into a very fake grin as Parker approached and words were exchanged.
Al smiled at Parker, "Ewa, this is Parker. Parker, Ewa." In truth, he was slightly relieved to have a distraction from attempting to find out about Ewa. That kind of subversion was far more Salem's thing than his own. "You're both welcome to join us if you like." He waved the bartender over to take any orders.
Salem rolled his eyes, leaned forward, and rested his chin in his hands with his elbows on the table, maintaining his aura of false enthusiasm. "Oh, yes, that'd be good. Let's just invite everyone over for a drink." He stared at Parker, his expression turning serious, though it was offset a bit by the fact that he kept his chin propped in his hands. "If you two don't mind, Al and I have something to discuss. In private." Rather than turn his head to look at Ewa, he tilted it sideways and looked at her sidelong. "Shouldn't take more than a few minutes, then I'll buy a round of drinks for the whole damn bar, why not?" He yelled the words "whole damn bar" towards the ceiling loudly enough that everyone in the building should have noticed. He leaned back in his seat and began halfheartedly examining his nails, "If either of you wants to discuss the things we need to discuss, we can do so shortly."
Al smiled apologetically as he slid into the booth on Salem's other side, "I promise he's nice sometimes. Just gotta get to know him better."
-
Zoshonel had just gotten comfortable when someone shouted and jolted him out of his comfort zone. The one who shouted about the whole bar then settled back down. "That was odd."
Jocun was surprised at Salem's outburst. apparently he was still anxious about something. The attacker, or something else on his mind?
-
Ewa nodded politely to Parker, but Salem broke in with his petulant little fit before she could actually say something. Her eyes slid back to him in a moment of disapproval and condescension before dismissing him.
She smirked slightly at Al as she slid back out of the booth. "You sound more like a self-deluded parent than a wingman." She glanced around the bar again but didn't see anyone trying to get her attention. "When you finish babysitting I'd appreciate it if you could point out who I should be consulting with... unless it's you?" she asked turning to Parker.
-
Julian glanced over at the one who had shouted, he was leaning back against his chair in a casual manner. "Odd indeed. Maybe that's a sign things will be picking up around here. So, mind if I ask where you learned to handle a weapon so well?"
(just a reminder: Julian is like a Minotaur, but horse instead of bull)
-
"We have classes on this kind of thing in school. Our planet is relatively hostile, and being able to survive is just as inportant as culture and science. Then of course there are the wars that break out from time to time."
-
Parker stood firm in his position. He didn't flinch, or even acknowledge Salem's outburst. Instead, he bowed his head to Al slightly and replied solely to him, "I see you're busy, I'll return shortly." He slid his feet together sharply, making a clacking sound to match Salem's previous volume. He then looked past Salem, without allowing a split-second's glance fall upon him, and replied to Ewa, "I'm sorry, I'm in no official position here; however if you would like to busy our waiting time, I would enjoy a civil... conversation."
Parker extended an arm and open hand toward the bar. It was far enough away that most couldn't overhear anything from their booth, allowing Salem some sort of comfort (though he didn't deserve it).
Garreth followed the duelists inside the bar and sat beside the two. He too was surprised by the outburst, but didn't show it. He spoke out, "Odd, carrying such an archaic melee weapon and such an advanced long range weapon. Is the former for sentimental value; or is the latter not originally native to your world?"
-
"It's much easier to get some gauntlets than a firearm. fir the firearm you need a permit, special training, and a background check. For gauntlets, you can just go to a weapon store and buy it. They're simple, but effective. The rifle is actually a new addition to my weapons. You don't see a whole lot of Draconians carrying them because we can already breathe fire." zoshonel said.
-
"Where I come from," Julian said, "Sword tournaments have made a come back as a sport. I compete professionally. Most of the weapons are more advanced. I had been traveling between worlds for competitions and ended up here."
-
Garreth explains, "I just mean to say your weapons are of normal metals. They aren't vibroblades like the ones from where I live. Though even fewer possess blades of any higher quality than mine and my brethren." He places his hand into his cloak and, using the Force, pulls his saber from his belt. No one should notice anything about it unless looking extremely carefully at the fact that his hand hadn't moved since breaching the cloak's flap.
He withdraws his hand, now with the hilt of his saber within it and lays it upon the table; his hands folded atop it. He waits for a reaction before giving any details.
Parker notices one robed patron remove a metal cylinder from his cloak. He cuts his external speakers and orders Thor, "Thor, bring up a transcript of their conversation." Thor shows a line of text detailing what was said. He nods to himself and orders the script away. He resumes awaiting Ewa's response.
-
"We haven't felt the need to develop that kind of technology, I suppose. Why did your people?"
-
Garreth answered, "This technology has been available to us for millenia. It's actually a symbol of our order, as we are the only ones who can create such a device. Only one who can harness the Force can assemble one." He lifts his hands off the weapon and opens them like a book. He then lifts the hilt using telekinesis. He causes the hilt to hover over his hands and rotate, showing every aspect of the hilt.
-
"That's a very nice power. Where does this force come from, and how do you tap into it? Or is that confidential information?"
-
Garreth looks to the Draconian and answers, "It's not a power, it's an ability. The Force is all around and inside us, within everything. There are very few beings born with the ability to sense, see, and harness the Force. It takes decades of training and discipline to learn how to properly harness the Force and keep control of yourself in the process. Too many have lost themselves thinking it as a power."
-
Tammy sits back in the booth, still eying the two Andalites warily. She has nothing to contribute to the conversation, but she's too terrified of them to move. Besides, she still needs Myitt. Deciding to avoid further confrontation, she takes to staring at the table, tracing the whorls and scratches with one finger. This has been, by far, the longest she has gone in years without Zorish controlling her every move, and even the slight motion of her finger is a marvel.
Keslin continues to watch as the bar patrons shift and change, but after Parker leaves the conversation he does not attempt to join any of the others. He is more comfortable in silence. Well, relative silence.
<<We should probably return to base,>> he murmurs to Chris.
<<I only had one beer,>> Chris protests.
<<After recent events I'm not too eager to leave Tess alone,>> Keslin responds. <<I trust Reven, but the rebellion has grown and I do not trust the others there as much.>>
<<Fine, whatever,>> Chris mutters. Keslin sets his empty pilsner glass down on the bar with one trembling hand and strides over to the booth where Myitt, Illim, and others he is less familiar with, are seated.
"Myitt," Keslin says with a small smile. "I think our vacation here is going to be short-lived. I need to check in with my people." He raises blonde eyebrows. "I hope you don't plan on staying too long yourself. Reven likely has need of you."
-
Julian scratched under his chin. "Force, huh? Can't say I've ever heard of anything like that before. All we've got is a scientific group tryin to branch out into genetic engineering and manipulation. No clue why."
-
"I see. Sorry for misunderstanding. It's good that you channel it for constructive things. So what brings you to the bar?"
-
Garreth nods in understanding and gratitude towards the Draconian's apology. "I was forced here by a Mandalorian trap. I had an important message to deliver; however once here, I began to feel as though it was here I was meant to be all along. There is another of my order, from a Timeline far in my future. He was in great need. I was able to help him. I feel as though my future lies in his Time; not in my own."
Garreth exhales and gives an embarrased smile. He says, "It occurs to me that I don't yet know your names; nor do you know mine. I am Garreth Rob, Jedi Knight."
-
"I'm Zoshonel. It's nice to meet you, Garreth. I don't think I'll be staying here indefinitely, personally, though I suppoose it's not a bad place to set up camp.
-
"Name's Julian. Was taking some time off between tournaments, and found my way here somehow. Figured I'd stick around for awhile, see what sort of folk turn up."
-
Al grinned at Ewa, "Wingman nothin'. Guy'd be swimming in chicks if that's what I was here for. And if you like, you can begin by consulting with me later," he said, his eyes flicking towards Salem. That felt, once again, an awful lot like one of the trader's deceptions.
Salem rolled his eyes again and looked from Parker to Ewa. He knew he wasn't behaving in the professional manner that he should be with potential trading partners, but this was dragging on, and he was becoming impatient. He'd smooth it over with them later.
This bar was an odd place. As a Paladinian, Ewa should definitely know the Atazin galactic language, which he and Al had adopted over the last few years for speaking without being understood. He and Al had both picked up a bit of several other languages over the years, but there was no telling who knew what, and what translation technologies were in play.
<<Al, we need to neutralize Rathien,>> Salem thought-spoke privately to the android. <<Then you can go back to making friends or whatever you're doing around here.>> Al shot Salem a dirty look, but was unable to respond.
<<What I'd like to do,>> Salem continued, <<is something like what we did for the Visser's vanguard. Wooded area like this should work even better. Add some explosives and this could even be fun.>> This time, Al glared at Salem and shook his head.
Salem smirked- he'd figured on that, <<We can switch roles, if you like,>> Salem said. <<Heck, you don't even need to be there. Just set it up and keep in touch. I should be up for the legwork.>>
Even as Salem spoke, he noticed a slight headache beginning in his right temple. Added to the ache in his leg, and this was starting to feel like a very long day. In fact... how long had it been since he'd slept?
-
"Oh," Ewa responded to Al first with mild surprise. "Well, that's rather convenient, actually." Her forehead wrinkled in slight puzzlement. Good that I won't have to try to focus on too much new information while I'm still sorting through my head. He is one of the more convincing humans here, so maybe I'm just supposed to train him and he'll look after the others? Strange not to take full advantage of someone you asked to consult with you though. "Just let me know then."
She turned back to Parker with a polite smile. "Some civil conversation would be lovely." she replied before moving towards the space at the bar he had indicated. "Actually, I seem to have had some sort of identity aphasia, so anything you could tell me about what you're practicing for or what I might have already done here would be appreciated. Are you one of mine? Or do the mechanoids have someone else to consult with?"
-
Parker skewed his head slightly in confusion. He began toward the bar answering the best he could, "I've only just met you. The only other time I saw you was after the confrontation with 'Salem''s assailant." He put an odd emphasis on "Salem" as he spoke. He hesitates slightly before continuing, "I...'m not entirely certain what you mean as toward what I'm 'practicing'. What would I be practicing? One of your what? I'm from, I assume, a completely different universe as you; I don't belong to anyone or anything here. I'm a soldier for the United Nations Space Command."
He reached his hands up to his helmet. He did a final check of his HUD and lifted the helmet off his head. He had longer light brown hair barely touching his neck plate. He had green eyes that glow with a golden tint and stand out from his pale white skin; though his face is somewhat darkened with his unshaven scruff. He smiles as he says, "As you can see, I'm not a 'mechanoid'. I'm enhanced, certainly; but I'm 150% Human." He sits down on a stool and the bartender hands him a refreshed drink filled with his previous order. He takes a drink and asks, "Would you like a drink? It's on someone else's tab."
-
<<See? Myitt is preoccupied as well. She can take care of herself.>> Keslin murmurs to Chris. <<Best let her enjoy her vacation with Illim.>>
<<Yeah, yeah,>> Chris mutters, but he is the one that gives the booth a parting wave - keeping a safe distance away from the Andalite tails - and turns away.
He glances around the bar one last time before heading towards the door, pulling out his comm link and beginning a message to Tess.
The cool air outside the bar is welcome, but now that he has committed to leaving he moves quickly, eager to be back on base, back with Tess.
As his ship begins humming to life, the main computer console almost immediately beeps a warning that one of his other ships is in the vicinity. Frowning, he pulls up the holoscreen to investigate.
"What are they doing here?" he mutters, quickly opening a hail.
The image that picks up is of a young, Asian girl in her early twenties, hair tied up in a side ponytail with a fuschia scrunchie.
"Hey Keslin!" the girl says brightly.
"It's Chris," the human responds, his own voice flat. "What are you doing here?"
"What, we aren't allowed to take a vacation too?" The young woman's lips turn down into a pout.
"Not without my approval," Chris snaps, irritated. "You're supposed to be on base, Aya."
"Aw, c'mon. I promise we'll behave. It isn't like you've been giving Terliss or me anything to do lately. We're bored." Aya flips the ends of her ponytail over her shoulder and gives an over-dramatic sigh of exasperation.
"You think I want Terliss trying to take care of his boredom here?" Chris demands. "No way, he'll just-"
<<Let them,>> Keslin cuts in.
<<What!? No way! They'll just make trouble. I don't want to clean up their messes.>>
<<Chris, Terliss has been on a short leash for a long time. If you allow him some small freedoms perhaps he will grow less resentful. You and I both know that he is harder to control now that we have rejoined Reven's group.>>
Chris grinds his teeth for a moment, glaring at the viewscreen. "Fine," he finally says. "But don't cause any trouble. And keep that Yeerk of yours in check."
Aya's expression shifts ever so slightly, her smile fading and eyes flattening. "I am perfectly capable of keeping myself in check, human," Terliss says in an icy voice.
"Yeah, right," Chris mutters, cutting the communication rather than deal with the pair of them. "At least if they're here they can't be making a mess of things on base." He sighs and begins initiating the take off sequence for his ship.
Aya rolls her eyes when the communication cuts out, almost immediately being given control of her body back.
"He's such a stick in the mud," she comments, piloting the Bug Fighter downward. Terliss, offers no comment, content to remain silent.
Her Madra class ship touches down almost silently, just as Chris' own battered Bug Fighter lifts off and disappears into the night. Aya watches until he initiates his cloaking device, sticking her tongue out at the place he disappeared.
<<Childish,>> Terliss comments.
<<Whatever,>> Aya responds cheerfully, adjusting her holster and opening the hatch. She hops out of the ship, not waiting for the ramp to descend, and makes her way through the shipyard.
<<This place never gets less creepy,>> Aya says, sounding perfectly happy about that fact as she pushes open the door to the bar and looks around.
-
Claxter thought about excusing himself to talk to the other Yeerk about Efaen, since interrogating Myitt in front of Ossanlin would not be good. He excused himself, and walked out the door, but the controller had apparently been in a hurry and was already gone. <Probably wouldn't have worked anyway.> He said to himself. He stretched from standing in one spot for so long, and walked around to get a bit to eat. Knowing his luck, this was when they'd start talking candidly about Efaen.
-
Aya moves aside quickly when an Andalite barrels through the door and outside; her eyes quickly widen and then narrow.
<<Well that's an interesting start,>> she thinks, intrigued.
<<Stay away from the Andalites, Aya,>> Terliss responds tersely. <<I don't favor us losing any limbs.>>
<<Oh whatever. As long as you don't say anything any Andalite is sure to love us.>> Aya grins and lets the door swing open again, after only a brief glance at the bar itself, and follows the Andalite back out into the fresh air.
"Hey there, grass-eater. In a hurry?" she calls cheerfully, smiling widely.
-
<Bored, actually.> Claxter said. He assumed this person was a controller, since she called him grass eater. <You seem to be in a good mood. Happy to be away from where you were at before?>
-
"Anything is better than rock and metal walls. It's good to stretch my legs for once," she says, stepping toward him. She eyes his tail, but it doesn't seem to frighten her as she steps within range and holds out one hand. "I'm Aya. And I'm bored as well. Perhaps we should work together to eliminate our mutual boredom."
-
<I am Claxter.> He said. He eyed her hand for a few seconds before reaching out to shake it briefly. <I take it you're one of the rebels. Personally I have mixed feelings for your group. It's good that you oppose the Empire and involuntary infestation, but some of your people seem to make certain exceptions for that.>
<Have you ever been to the bar?>
-
"I've been in orbit above it a few times," Aya says, dropping her hand back to her side and hooking her thumb through the belt loop of her jeans. "Never bothered to make the trip down before, though. But we were bored, as I already said. Thought it might be time for a little excitement." She winks. "From what I hear a lot of interesting things happen around here."
She steps back and purses her lips, sizing him up. "Claxter, hm? Let's see...you're a warrior, aren't you? And I'd bet anything you serve that bigger Andalite I saw in the bar. No way you're the commander. Thought I saw Myitt in there too, which means the big Andalite is likely to be that Ossanlin dude." She grins eagerly. "Am I right? I like guessing games, and I'm pretty good at them."
<<You are showing off,>> Terliss murmurs.
-
<Your information is correct. Ossanlin is in there catching up with Myitt, since it seems a year passed outside the bar while days passed here. I don't suppose you're familiar with an Andalite named Efaen? You seem rather casual with our kind.>
-
"You're actually the first Andalite I've had the pleasure of formally meeting," Aya says with a wink. "Well, I suppose I know Tora. And yeah, Efaen. But that's different, and I've never spoken much to either of them. I like meeting new aliens though. It's entertaining. And...ah...informat ive."
Her smile is only a little mocking, but her face is open and friendly enough.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin finishes his bowl of fermented grass beverage...klenek was the word his own people used for it, though it could mean any kind of drink fermented from grass. He watches Mar and Myitt in turn, both of them sitting silent as the grave. He glances around the rest of the bar to make sure there wasn't some sort of time anomaly he wasn't detecting. With his senses, that sort of thing would stand out like a glaring red sore on the fabric of space-time, but everything else seems to be moving at the normal pace.
He watches Claxter as he trots out the door, presumably for some food. He glances over at his other charge, Serid, to make sure the nothlit wasn't in any difficulty. He would be an interesting project. Ossanlin had determined what some of the basic Andalite-identity genetic markers looked like to him with his senses...not from observing Terenia though. Looking at Efaen in human morph, though a side-effect of what he had been doing for Terenia, had given him a much better idea of what Andalite genetic identity would look like, even suppressed. Perhaps he would be able to revert Serid a great deal more easily than he'd originally thought, though the little short-cut he'd discovered would be all but useless if Serid had ever acquired any other Andalites.
He waits patiently for Mar to respond, or for Myitt to explain more of what had happened outside the bar, though he paws the floor a bit...practiced patience was, after all, still imperfect.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ________________
~Rathien~
Rathien mumbles to himself in his sleep as the computer produces a tone, waking him. He glances at the display next to the bed. The cleansing cycle had accomplished all the good it could. The remaining traces of residual radiation would merely have to leech out of his body naturally. Thankfully it would only take a few hours, but if he had to use his camouflage before then, any radiation still within his body would become permanent, and that was unacceptable.
He shakes his head as he stands, stretching and arching his toned back, admiring his own form in the reflective wall-surface of the med-bay. Still as striking as ever. He grins to himself, running his tongue over a fang again. If ever he encountered another being that looked like himself, he would definitely try to get him to play around...or her. "Nerin de'morinde sen ferir lonillae." He mutters to his reflection, still grinning. He turns and begins dressing himself. The phrase had always held special meaning to him...it encompassed the entirety of his existence, more or less. It always sounded better in his ancestral tongue...most things did. Roughly translated, the phrase meant "Do what you want and pay the price." It simply did not roll of the tongue or sound as meaningful in Basic, but then most things sounded like crude animal noises in that tongue. Galard was even worse.
He finishes with his tunic and armor, strapping the knives back onto his back and buckling his Entroper holster into place again. He leaves his rifle in its locker again as he opens the hatch and descends from his ship, sealing it again, leaving its camouflage active as he makes his way back toward the bar. He feels slightly naked with the usage of his personal energy field modifier denied him. No camouflage, no emergency shielding...nothing . But then that increased the danger, and that gives him a thrill. To brace such a worthy foe as Tobias without what many in his line of work would consider essential gear...he shivers in anticipation. Perhaps he should ask Tobias to be a bit more frank about his offer...though he is certainly loathe to allow the mark to modify him in any way.
He makes it to the bar and glances around, a few patrons outside. One of the Andalites and some new human that he takes to be a controller. She's actually a bit cute, so he flashes her a wide, fangy grin before entering the bar. His eyes scan the room quickly, marking out those he'd seen before, and most-importantly...Tobias.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ______________
~Raile~
Raile sits in the calm of the meadow for a time, meditating, relaxing. He'd not felt so at peace since the last time he'd performed exercises with his Master. His mind feels serene. Perhaps he had never actually felt this purity and calm before. He lets his mind roam over the bar...there is still tension there, but he feels that he can rise above it now...see it objectively. He senses Garreth, like a bright beacon of light, but he can also feel the other to some degree. He can not exchange conscious information as he'd been able to do with his old Master, but he can certainly feel in which direction Garreth lay, and can detect nebulous concepts emanating from the other, like emotions.
He nods to himself and allows his mind to return to his body, rising to his feet. He proceeds in the direction of Garreth and the bar.
-
<Well there are plenty of types of creatures around here. We get all kinds, or various ranges of powers. Usually reasonable, but not always. There's actually a controller from a future where the Empire won. According to him, the rebels made a dramaticlly positive effect on them. while the Yeerks winning isn't ideal from a non Yeerk perspective in most cases, at least it isn't as bad as it could be.>
-
Parker notices Chris leaving; hopefully it won't be for good. He was a decent fellow. Claxter follows, no doubt hoping to extract any information denied to him by Myitt. A young female Human partly enters and leaves after Claxter. A Human seeking out an Andalite must be from an organization similar to Corliss & Myitt's rebellion. That also means she is more than likely a controller. After she leaves, the man that had assaulted Salem earlier walks into the bar. Parker's face hardens, he speaks to Ewa briefly saying, "Excuse me," and he replaces his helmet upon his head. He quickly stands up, withdraws his shotgun, and points it at the assailant. He calls out, "What is your business here, Assassin?"
-
"Really?" Aya's eyes light up. "Now that's interesting. I wonder whether it's my own version of the future or someone elses. Kes always said that there were multiple realities around here." She shrugs. "Right now, though, I'm interested in talking to a real live Andalite. One that hasn't decided they're better off being human or whatever." She watches him with sharp eyes. "What's it like being a minion of the Andalite military, hm?"
-
<It's very strict. Very high priority on honor. We are better than everyone at everything, and any information indicating otherwise is either a lie, or a misunderstanding.> He said in a joking tone of voice. <But I'm sure you know, because we spend so much time telling other species. Also each other. Truthfully stopping the Yeerks is less about saving the galaxy than just cleaning up the mess we made. Though I'd be in real trouble if I let most superiors know I had those kind of thoughts. It's actually illegal to talk much about ourselves, not the least to a Yeerk. We are individuals, though.>
<why would any Andalite want to be Human more than Andalite? Humans are in serious need of tails for balancing, natural weapons, and the ability to look behind them without having to rotate their heads.>
Jocun noticed Parker jump up and point his rifle at a guy that had just come in. was that the invisible enemy? Why would be show himself, uncloaked? Should he do something, or just hang back and see what happened? He pulled out his communicator, and took and image of the assassin. "Well unless Parker is wrong, now I know what the guy looks like."
-
Aya laughs. "Well, I've never really fancied myself with a tail before, and I think I can balance just fine, but a natural weapon would be nice. Those tails of yours are fun stuff. All I get is a lousy Dracon." She indicates the weapon at her belt. "Though I can't deny that it's effective."
She raises her eyebrows. "So. You're a friend of Efaen's. I didn't think she had any friends. From what I heard she was a bit of a ****. Not that I ever got the chance to talk to her. Watched her, though. Saw her around a base a few times." She shrugs.
-
<No, she doesn't have many friends. females of my species aren't given as many rights and priviledges as males, and some of them resent it. She had to fight much harder than any male to become a Warrior, and all that got blown away when she was involuntarily infested and kidnapped by terenia, who is practically an Imperial in ideals if not loyalties. Efaen was unhappy with the decision to go to the rebels, as well as the choice of going to the Andalites. I'm not sure why if she was going to be unhappy either way, did she choose to live amongst the people she actively hates. I can't say how much of a friend she considers me. I rescued her, and have feelings for her, but she's rather closed off.>
<She is not a ****. Merely broken and in need of help. I'm just...not sure how to help her. Maybe that's how Corliss sees Terenia. Though obviously helping Efaen doesn't go contrary to the ideals I'm supposed to espouse, which makes me better. That is what I believe, anyway.>
-
As Claxter speaks Aya tilts her head to the side, listening raptly. When he finally finishes his little speech her smile has broadened.
"I didn't think Andalites talked quite as much as that," she says. "Huh. Interesting story, I'll give you that. Not that it matters much. Whether Efaen is or was a **** isn't really my concern, although it is amusing."
She shrugs. "Alright, well. Nice talking to you, Claxter." She gives a little mock salute. "I'm gonna go grab a drink."
-
<Goodbye.> claxter said before continuing with his feeding.
-
Aya watches him leave, amused.
<<Clearly he doesn't want to know about her as much as he anticipated,>> she murmurs to Terliss, who offers no response. Shrugging, she heads back into the bar, making it further than the threshold this time. Her gaze is immediately drawn to Myitt, and she waves, expecting a none-too-friendly response. She is about to turn towards the bar, but then pauses.
<<Is she with Terenia?>> Aya asks, tilting her head again.
<<It would appear so,>> Terliss responds. <<I thought we had a close watch on her.>>
Frowning, Aya tries not to look too concerned and, instead of going to the booth, she heads to the bar.
-
Myitt sighs, barely registering the conversation around her. She only gives Keslin and Chris an idle wave when they mention they might leave. Internally, her thoughts are roiling, at the expense of those around her.
For all intents and purposes she has been staring into her drink as if the dark red liquor had all the answers she was looking for.
"Ossanlin, I wish I could tell you more about what's happened in the last year or so, but honestly, this whole time dilation thing is ****ing with my head," she admits, finally looking up. "I mean, is it still a year ago for you? Or what? Do you know what we know? That whole Silver Blade thing has never clicked well in my head, and--"
She stops speaking abruptly, staring at Aya and Terliss across the bar. She doesn't return the wave.
"What the **** are they doing here?" she hisses lowly, her shocked expression hardening into one of annoyed suspicion. "They never come here. They never have fun, for ****'s sake!" She swallows.
<<Bounties, perhaps?>> Tara offers.
<<I wouldn't be surprised,>> Myitt grates. <<But why here? Why freelance when Terliss is supposed to be...>> She trails off again internally, looking away from Aya, loath to catch the young Asian woman's gaze.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin shakes his head...something bad had happened. When he thinks of Reven and the rebels, he suddenly feels a slight bit of resentment and mistrust. Whatever had happened, it had been serious.
<I...am told I have not been unconscious for more than a few standard days at most, though now I feel as if I may have been. It is difficult to...> He cuts off as Myitt's eyes move to a young human girl entering the bar. He turns his main eyes to look at her instead of merely a stalk. <I...assume the female is a controller you are familiar with?>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _________________
~Rathien~
Rathien spares another glance for the human girl as she enters the bar proper. Either she had not seen his first smile or did not care. He grins at her again, but this time not kindly. The ones who played hard to get were the best sport after all.
He looks back up at the strangely-armored humanoid and raises an eyebrow, surprised that this strange being had been able to place exactly who he was and also reach the conclusion that he had been the one to attack Tobias. "I have done nothing to you and there's no call...I'd rather not end your Dream before it's time. Besides, you shot me with that archaic pea-shooter already today...you can see just how much good it did you. Be that as it may, it was an unpleasant experience...one that I'd be loathe to repeat." He smirks, showing his canine fangs. "Besides, firing your weapon in these confines is going to create collateral damage, and I think we'd both like to avoid that."
He ****s his head, favoring the armored humanoid with a winning grin before moving toward the bar...alone, but in a convenient place to direct grins at both Tobias and the new girl.
-
Parker replied though none was waited for, "You only did nothing to me because you missed when you shot at me. The 'call' is you attempted to assassinate an acquaintance of mine; and now suddenly enter the bar he is currently located in. I highly doubt you mean to just chat with the man you just tried to kill.
"And I've got much more than this pea-shooter that can take you down." He instinctively flexes his right thigh, ready to draw his Energy Sword at any moment; however the man walks to the bar without incident. Parker lowers his weapon as the man sits and he replaces the weapon upon his back. He continues looking at the assassin and says to Thor aloud, "Watch him." Parker then sits back down next to Ewa. He looks to her and says, "I apologize for the interruption." He doesn't bother glancing to the man he had just marked, as Thor began displaying a constant report of his actions.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien shakes his head a bit as the being speaks to the back of his head. The poor man actually thought Rathien had missed by accident? He could've destroyed everyone in that little clearing, the shot at the ground had been apurpose. A way to distract and perhaps injure the other without actually killing him. Although the being's energy shields might've absorbed the Entroper blast. Such a strange being, wielding energy-based defensive technology, yet still relying upon projectile-based explosive gas weapons. He orders miruvin, no longer surprised that this bar has the clear, silverish wine in stock. He drinks gratefully, glancing around the bar again. The hostile individual had sat back down thankfully. Though he'd been telling the truth, his confidence had also been a bit of a bluff. Primitive though the weapon is, it's still capable of inflicting an unfortunate amount of damage, and he without his emergency shielding.
-
Tamora's eyes flicker briefly in the direction of the newcomer, then back to the company at hand. One of the Andalites has left, and that helps her relax a hair, although Ossanlin's continued presence has her eying him warily.
Still, he hadn't attacked. Yet.
"Um..." she says quietly, then clears her throat and tries again, more loudly. "Mr. Andalite, sir?" she asks, her gray eyes reflecting only fear as she addresses him.
Aya makes no indication that she notices Myitt's eyes following her. She hops onto the nearest bar stool and waves the bartender over.
"Orange juice," she orders, choosing to stay away from the alcohol. She'd never really had any, and now didn't seem like the wisest time to start. Should Terliss be needed, he would need full control over her faculties.
When the requested drink arrives, Aya takes a long sip, her eyes slowly taking in the rest of the bar, laying everything down in her mind the way only an eidetic memory can.
<<Not the most pristine location,>> Terliss comments flatly.
<<Fitting enough, considering the patrons,>> Aya responds.
-
Jocun felt like perhaps he should try to speak to the person. Maybe get him to lay off Salem. Unfortunately Salem already thought he and the assassin were working with each other, and any attempts at negotiation would be met with suspicion on Salem's part. He chose to continue watching.
Claxter had fed and loosened his muscles a bit, and was ready to go back inside in the hopes of hearing some tidbit of information about Efaen. He walked back into the bar, noticeing the changes, and stood reasonably close to Myitt and Ossanlin.
-
Garreth observed the confrontation between the armored person and the new patron. He gripped his light saber tightly as they interacted. If a fight broke out, he would be ready to interfere. When the scene died down, he relaxed and stowed his weapon back in his cloak.
-
"Try not to pick a fight with the guy in armor. He's a buddy of mine." Zoshonel said. "If he gets in a fight, and you decide to choose a side, choose his."
-
Garreth replies, "I didn't plan on choosing sides. I planned on quelling the confrontation. Violence in this crowded place would only end in innocent blood being shed. As a Jedi, I could not sit by and allow such a thing to happen."
-
"Well any tussle Parker gets into isn't likely to be a friendly sparring match, so just trying to stop the fight would probably be best." zoshonel wondered what it would look like to see Gerreth run between two enemies in heated battle. for the best, it didn't happen, as exciting as it would be.
-
<<How long will we be remaining here, Aya?>> Terliss asks as his host sips orange juice and eyes the bar's inhabitants as one might eye clothing in a department store.
<<As long as we need to,>> she says inwardly with an outward shrug. <<The base is boring. This place is supposed to be more exciting. I want to see if it lives up to all that.>>
<<We really should investigate the situation regarding Terenia. She cannot be on base and across the room at once. Beyond that, Myitt and Illim's presence are->>
<<Entirely expected. Myitt is a drunk and Illim is attached to her hip. No worries, Terliss. I've got it under control. Calm down. We'll be back before you need another fix.>>
Aya settles back into the bastool, swiveling it so she can watch the booth with Myitt in it. She notes that the other Andalite, the one named Claxter, has returned. She winks at one of his many eyes from across the room and sips her drink.
-
As soon as Parker and Ewa moved away from the table, Al leaned in and, using the Atazin galactic language, said to Salem in a harsh whisper "I am so not doing that again."
"We need to do something," Salem returned, equally harshly. "I'm not sure Rathien's actually trying to kill me, but if he keeps trying whatever he's doing, I'm going to wind up dead."
"So we leave. Run. It's always been our solution before. Why not now?"
Salem smirked, "Too much to lose this time. A universal nexus? A crossroads of technologies and time periods? Now a Paladinian?" he nodded towards Ewa. "I'm not letting some whiny hunter drive me out of here."
"Then leave me out of this. You two duke it out."
Salem opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut again as he caught sight of a figure walking through the door- Rathien. His hand was instantly on his weapon under his cloak.
"He's here," he hissed at Al. "Go. Now."
"But..." Al began, but Salem cut him off.
"Al, just set it up, and you're done." He watched as Parker threatened Rathien. There was something comical, even theatrical, about Parker's performance here that caused Salem to smirk. Rathien said something about wanting to avoid collateral damage- something that was definitely true of Rathien, and most likely of Parker as well, what with his alleged soldier background. That could give Salem the advantage if it came down to a conflict.
"With what?" Al whispered, keeping his eyes glued on the hunter.
"Illusors. Bombs. Set them to my command. The woods north of here."
Al nodded and, as soon as Rathien turned to walk towards the bar, seemed to shimmer out of existence, his hologram cloaking him and making him invisible to the naked eye. Without another word, he began moving down the narrow hallway and out the back door with superhuman speed- anyone watching would have only seen the door appear to slam open and then slowly creak shut again on its own. Once outside, he headed in the direction of Salem's ship.
"You get two bombs," Salem's communicator said angrily from his belt as Al called him. Salem rolled his eyes. Al's aversion to violence was nothing new, but there were still occasions on which it was... less than preferred.
Salem tensed and moved his cloak aside. In the same motion, he drew his bulky gravity pistol and allowed the three intricately decorated silver stabilizing blades to snap into their positions centered around the barrel. He then pulled the trigger- not aiming at anyone, simply as a warning shot, fired at the bar's front doorway. As he fired, he pushed himself sideways to land in a crouch to the side of the booth. The whole motion had taken less than a second.
Salem's weapon fired no visible beam or projectile- a needle-thin ray of what amounted to being pure antigravity burst forth, lasting only a split second as he moved, but during that time, all air along the line to the door, as well as the doorframe itself, were forced violently away from the beam. The result was a small shockwave or puff of air through the bar, the edge of the door's frame exploding inward, and a deafening boom- nearly identical to thunder- as the air that'd been forced aside rushed back in to fill the vacuum created by the beam. For most purposes, Salem's grav-pistol wasn't any more effective than a standard Dracon, but it certainly made for a good show.
-
Tamora's eyes widen when Claxter returns to the group, and she quickly drops her gaze, no longer interested in attempting to talk to Ossanlin. One Andalite she could, maybe, just maybe, handle. But two? No, she would need Zorish for that.
Her worries are distracted by a sudden booming noise that makes her jump a solid six inches in her seat. She looks around wildly for the source and notices that the door to the bar is most definitely no longer attached.
She begins to shiver a little. "This place is not safe," she whispers to no one in particular. She turns back to Myitt. "I need those supplies you promised, and then Zorish and I need to leave. I can't...I can't stay here."
Aya too is unable to prevent jumping at the unexpected boom of the door being blown outward, but she recovers much more quickly, swiveling her gaze to the only person in the room who is in a remotely defensive position.
<<Interesting,>> she remarks. He doesn't appear to be aiming the weapon near her, and she is a fairly quick draw, but she rests one hand on her Dracon nonetheless, shifting her tumbler of orange juice into her weaker hand as she observes the gunman.
"A bit overdramatic, don't you think?" she calls in his direction with a wry smirk. She makes no motion to get up, just sips her drink and watches him.
-
Claxter gave a slight nod of acknowledgement at Aya. He wasn't sure if he should act friendly towards her right in front of Myitt or Ossanlin at this moment, but there seemed no reason to ignore her. She was, at least, the first rebel he had seen that was actually friendly. Just so long as it wasn't fake. His attention was jolted as a loud noise came from the doorway. His tail tensed, and he brought his main eyes to the door as he quickly scanned the room. Al was gone, and Salem had moved. What were they up to?
He noticed Tamora mention leaving. Good. Less of Myitt talking to her about zorish, and More of Myitt talking to Ossanlin about Efaen. Besides, Zorish should leave anyway. even though him staying may save an alternate Efaen anyway, Claxter didn't care to be stationed on the same asteroid as him. <By all means, Human. I certainly won't stop you.>
Jocun jumped up, and he drew his weapon before he realised it was in his hands. He wasn't sure where the sound had come from, but he was pointing at the assassin. Only that wasn't where the dust was coming from. He must have been more tense than he thought. He lowered it, not seeing anything threatening.
Zoshonel tensed when he heard the sound. But nothing. "What was that about? No one rushing in to attack after blasting the room? Anticlimactic much?"
-
Parker noticed movement on his motion detector. He looked to where it led and saw a blur passing through the back door. He looked back to where the movement originated and saw Salem sitting alone. Al had gone, quickly too. Al had never moved that fast as he had seen before. There had to be some reason for it. With Salem's conversation with Al being over, he stood to go toward the booth. He took a step and Salem drew his weapon, set it, and fired it at the doorway. With Parker's improved reflexes and senses, he saw the whole event. After the implosion, Parker stood back. Salem was going to make a move; and he wanted to be able to watch Rathien as it happened.
Garreth heard the implosion and stood up, immediately drawing his saber and activating its blade. After the show that had just played out; Garreth wasn't taking anything for granted. He holds his blade to his side as he holds his free hand in front of him, defensively, ready to deflect any attacks. He looks to the two that had made the commotion before and notices a different man crouching. Garreth waits for the next move to be made before taking any himself.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin shifts his eyes to Myitt before moving his main eyes to Tamora as she speaks. <Yes?>
Claxter returns at the same time and he notices Tamora dropping her eyes. Suddenly he feels movement and whips a stalk-eye to focus on Salem and the destruction in the doorway. He draws one of his Shredders, tail erect and ready to strike as he watches the situation. He holds the weapon at his side, curious as to what might've spooked the trader.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ________________
~Rathien~
Rathien tenses as Salem draws his weapon and aims at the door, sparking an anti-gravity explosion. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, smiling and allowing his muscles to relax...he relaxes insofar as a wolf ready to pounce relaxes, ready to dodge and draw on a moment's notice if necessary. He drinks deeply of his miruvin, taking time to savor the flavor before swallowing. He props an elbow up on the bar and faces sideways on the stool towards Salem, a silly little smile on his face as he props his chin on his bar-supported hand. He crosses his ankles out in front of himself and watches in a relaxed manner. Obviously Tobias wanted a rise...he wouldn't get it, not this time. Not unless he did something more...threatening.
"Oh Tobias, just because you don't like a place isn't a good reason to start blasting holes in it." He smirks, raising an eyebrow as he idly swirls the remaining wine around its tall tumbler in his free hand.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _______________
~Raile~
Raile feels a sudden rise in tension from the bar and then senses Garreth's readiness for battle. He uses the Force to enhance his leg musculature and sprint-leaps forward at super-human speed. He attempts to send a sense of urgency to Garreth to let the other know he is on his way and quickly.
As he approaches the bar, both of his saber hilts whip into his hands just as he lands outside, looking through the settling wreckage that had once been the door. No heat damage, blunt energy damage perhaps, but vacuum damage as well. He stands ready for combat, but leaves the hilts unignited, arms at his sides as he looks in for the source of the problem. His eyes immediately land on Garreth in his ready stance, blade ignited. A human is crouching on the floor, some sort of hand-held weapon in his hand, but nearly the entire patronage seems to be fully-armed and ready to fire. He doesn't bother with words, knowing the other Jedi can feel his presence. If Garreth does require his assistance, Raile's sure the other would certainly let him know.
-
Still shaking, Tamora turns her eyes back to Ossanlin, watching his stance with frightened eyes.
"Yeah, I should definitely go," she whispers, scooting out of the booth and standing. She doesn't move beyond that, though. In order to leave she would have to maneuver around the two Andalites and go towards the shots. Both seem utterly terrifying, so she just stands there, indecisive.
What would Zorish do? she thinks desperately, her gaze inexoribly drawn to Ossanlin and his weapons.
"Please don't hurt me," she says in a shaky voice, taking a step away from the booth and wincing, as though she half expects him to behead her then and there.
-
At first, Ewa thought she had never felt more confused. How could Parker not know what she was talking about? And then he removed his helmet and was.... human. Well, human-ish. Her Family still had final say on human portrayal, so he was still clearly sub-standard.... but just as clearly didn't think he was... A moment later, he became distracted with something else happening in the bar, and she was grateful for the extra moments to try to disentangle all of her thoughts and conflicting information. It's like he's in-character, but we're clearly not doing some kind of practice run, otherwise I wouldn't be here like this, and if he hasn't talked to me before and isn't to consult with me, then.... why would he be in character? It just doesn't make sense.
She frowned up at Parker in confusion as he rejoined her. Mouth open to ask, she suddenly reconsidered and pulled out a seat at the bar. It seems like I might want some support whenever I work this out. She was distracted again when someone.... almost familiar approached the bar not far away. Parker was watching him. Pretty, she thought, and half-remembered sensations seemed to float in the back of her mind. Most of them involved fear.
Then there was a loud boom and the bar's door was torn off its hinges.
Ewa found herself out of her chair, ducked below the bar, a knife in each hand. And she remembered.
Then she knew she had never been more terrified. Or angry.
The angry part was good: it meant that, instead of hyperventilating on the floor, she elbowed Parker's leg--hard--to get his attention.
"Tell me. Right now," she hissed, never taking her eyes off of Salem and Rathien. "Where the hell am I and what the **** is going on?"
-
As Al approached Salem's ship, his mind linked with the ship's systems. The ramp lowered to the ground, the front wall of the ship slid downward, revealing a rack of what were obviously weapons, and a drawer in the wall popped open. A number of fist-sized, semi-spherical metallic objects, all glowing a dull blue, deposited themselves into the drawer seemingly through the ship's hull.
Al made his way up the ramp without losing speed, and looked into the drawer. There were a dozen or so of the objects in all. He darted back, into the back room/closet that Salem had frequently used to change, and stepped back out with a bag strapped to his side. He loaded all of the spheres into it, and then proceeded to also stuff in two bright orange cylinders from the front wall, muttering under his breath.
As he raced back down the now-closing ramp and towards the bar, his hologram handily hid the bag as well.
Salem rose, his muscles tense, and trained his weapon on Rathien. As he did, his left hand slid into his pocket under his cloak- after a few moments, he found the capsule he was looking for and, sliding off the top with his thumb, pricked his finger on the now-exposed miniature needle. The chemical within was a powerful, yet so far remarkably stable, stimulant- the same one he'd used to wake up his arm after Rathien'd poisoned it earlier. It would provide the equivalent of an adrenaline rush- in addition to his own, natural adrenaline rush- that should last a few minutes. After pricking his finger, Salem's hand snaked back out of his cloak and onto the side of his bulky pistol as a stabilizer.
Some portion of his mind took note of the reactions of the others in the bar. Parker seemed unphased. Jocun... trained his weapon on Rathien? Perhaps Salem had judged Jocun too quickly earlier. Ewa dove for cover- good instinct. One of the humans Salem had yet to meet, drew what looked like an energy blade of some kind- worth looking into later, at least. The two Andalites seemed to tense up- indeed, the whole rebel table seemed uncomfortable with this. There was a new girl who called him "overdramatic," though. Towards her, Salem shot a brief smile that was halfway between charming and mocking, but didn't say a word.
Ideally, Salem would simply lead this fight outside, but Rathien'd walked in too soon. Al wouldn't have his trap set up yet. So what was the best course? Shoot, and hope to take the hunter down? Not with this many patrons. They were just as likely to shoot him as the hunter, from what he'd seen, especially if he began firing inside.
Still, the tension in the room, the eyes now turning towards him... Salem could feel the now all-too-familiar rush starting. There was no way he could take the hunter one-on-one. Things were about to get fun. He just had to stall for a bit.
"I can't think of a better reason to blow holes in something, Ildari," Salem called across the bar to Rathien with a nasty grin. His right hand was steady, keeping his bead on the hunter, even as he reached down with his left and dialed the power back to a lower setting. He wasn't intending to blow chunks of the hunter all over the bar if he could help it. "And right now, I'm not much liking you. Hands up, my friend. It's over."
-
Parker didn't feel Ewa's elbow, as his armor was a Titanium alloy. Luckily for her, her strike never hit his armor. It rebounded off of his Energy shield, which glowed around his body like water's reflection, and settled to normal. Parker looked back and saw Ewa, ducked down. He knelt down, close to her level. He then saw Salem level his weapon at Rathien. He reached for his shotgun while answering her, "You're in a bar that's located in a universal nexus. A place where travelers from any place and time can go to relax and have a drink." Parker sets the barrel of his shotgun in his free hand and continues, "Now Salem was attacked earlier by the man he's aiming at now. This, I assume, is Salem's response."
Having given an explanation, he stood back up and faced Salem's target. He kept his weapon ready, but did not aim it. This was indeed Salem's fight; but he would be there as back up if needed.
Garreth was intrigued by the seated man's demeanor. He could feel a preparedness from him; otherwise he was relaxed. Garreth sees Raile at what used to be the door. He nods to him, grateful for his presence. He waits until Salem finishes his speech and calls out, "There's no need for this to take place here. Really, it doesn't have to happen at all; though if you are intent on fighting, it would serve the others better to do it outside." Normally he would had ordered a stand down; but he was far out of his jurisdiction, and held no authority here. He settled for being the voice of reason for the innocent present.
-
"Yeah, Salem. Did it have to happen right here and now? I know he attacked you, and I don't know why he came in here unless it was to taunt you, but this is not the place for a fight." Jocun said, agreeing with the other person. He had an energy weapon too, which made him wonder if this guy was from Parker's universe. Or were there multiple universes with energy weapons that weren't guns? Maybe he should commission a project to start trying to develop some.
-
Myitt tenses at the sound and the impact of the door's explosion, wincing at the force of the shockwave, at the ringing in her ears, splinters clattering onto the booth table behind her.
Her Dracon is drawn with shaking hands.
<<I'm getting too old for this,>> she murmurs, craning her neck to peer at the wreck of the front wall. Her head pounded from the deafening ringing in her ears.
<<You're getting too old?>> Tara complains. <<It's my ****ing body you keep ****ing up.>> In spite of the harshness of her words, there is no real malice in her statement; it's the usual dark banter.
-
~Ossanlin~
<I was not the one to hurt you before, Tamora, and I will not now. Even if I wanted to harm you, I've no excuse for dabbling with timelines not my own...many would argue I've no business altering even that. Either way you are not from my division of the Multiverse.> He turns his main eyes on Salem and the drinker at the bar, stalk eyes watching everything else. In a louder tone he speaks up. <Haven't you tried to kill enough people here already, Salem?>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ______________
~Rathien~
Rathien's smirk turns into a grin, and before he can stop himself, he bubbles into laughter. After a few moments, his mirth fades and he turns his smirk back on Salem again. "Tobias, ever the flare for the dramatic only to be spoiled by the cheesiest line you can think of. Some day you'll have to tell me how you've duped all these people into worshiping you. I suppose you haven't shared any of the sordid portions of your past. Do they even know you're as much of a contract killer as I am? Ruthlessly snuffing out lives for your own profit? Our kind is easy to hate, yet you make people love you. I suppose they think you're just some benevolent merchant, sailing the stars with advanced technology that you're willing to dole out for exchanges of seemingly little value?" He arches an eyebrow. "That bit never gets old, hmm?"
He takes another sip of his miruvin before returning to swirling the liquid around inside its container. "I don't suppose you told them that you don't even need this place to hop between different Universes? That as soon as you've made enough of a mess in one, you merely run off to another leaving a trail of wreckage in your wake? That you drag another, completely against his will, out of any existence he might achieve in one universe every time you do?" He chuckles again, but this time it holds no mirth. "Nothing is over Tobias...nothing ever is. While I'm perfectly aware that all of these people are expendable in your eyes, in mine it would be worse than useless to bring them needless harm. I'm inclined to believe that you agree with me from the way they all stand for you without question, so why don't we just play nice, hmm?" He grins, still swirling the remainder of his silverish-clear drink in its vessel.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _________________
~Raile~
Raile flashes Garreth a grim smile and nods back, ready to back Garreth up with force, Force, or both if need be.
-
Jocun took in the information, though made no comment about it right now. He'd ask Salem later. Many people had skeletons in their closets. Right now he wasn't sure if he should continue to involve himself in Salem and Ildari's feud or not.
-
Parker stood his ground, as no moves were made just yet. The robed figure that was playing with the cylinder earlier ignited an energy blade from it. It was far different from his own, as it extended a single blade from the end, following the direction of the hilt; whereas Parker's created two blades from each end, perpendicular to its hilt. The robed man called for the fight to be moved elsewhere. Parker tended to agree, but he wasn't going to stand down for a moment.
When the Ildari, as Salem called him (more likely to be where he's from, from the way Salem spoke the word), called Salem 'Tobias', Parker 's eye lit for a second. So that was the name Salem had covered up when they first met. He heard all the things the Ildari accused Tobias of doing; but didn't change his stance at all. Whether or not what he said was true, it didn't change the fact that this man was no better than Tobias; and the Tobias wasn't the one who had shot at him earlier.
Garreth took in the new information spoke from the different men who spoke out. So the seated man had attacked that man earlier; and he's now trying to stop the attacks by ending the life of the attacker. According to the targeted man, an Ildari as the other (apparently named Tobias) had called him, Tobias wasn't a very reputable man. According to what Garreth was seeing, he felt agreeable to that statement. Though, to his own admittance, he too was no better. Garreth then labeled them both as Bounty Hunters in his mind. Not ones to take lightly, nor trust easily. If he had any dealings with either one in the future, he'd have to stay on guard. He awaited a response from 'Tobias' before he spoke again.
-
Not much time has passed at all before the splintered, wooden shards of the door begin to slowly move on their own accord. Luckily most of the door has remained in one piece, so rather than hundreds of tiny projectiles, there are only a few that squirm and push towards the open doorway, fitting back in on one another like some sort of complicated puzzle being completed by invisible hands.
Aya's ever-watchful gaze flickers between those involved in the conflict, but she stays well away from it. Not even close to your battle, she tells herself. Motion catches her eye, and she glances back at the booth of rebels, noting that Terenia has stood, and looks rather terrified.
<<Not Terenia,>> Aya says immediately, her dark eyes running down the length of the blonde girl's body, noting a glaring difference between the Terenia on base, and the look-alike here. <<Definitely not Terenia. How interesting. I thought her sister was dead.>>
<<Interesting, but irrelevant,>> Terliss murmurs.
<<But interesting,>> Aya reiterates, grinning to herself.
Tamora doesn't seem to understand most of what Ossanlin says, but she nods. "Thank you...I think." She advances another step, but hesitates, reluctant to move towards the front of the bar, where the tension seems highest.
"I don't...um..." She clears her throat, emitting a small squeaking noise. "I don't suppose one of you could...show me if there's a back way out?" Her gaze bounces between Ossanlin, Claxter, and Myitt hopefully.
-
~Ossanlin~
<<Where do you plan on running, Tamora? It's all forest and wilderness out there aside from the shipyard. It wouldn't do for you to get lost on a strange planetoid. There is a back door through the hallway if you really want to try your luck.>> Ossanlin points to the hallway beside the bar leading further back into the building.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________
~Raile~
Raile watches serenely as the bar begins to repair itself. Inside he is astonished, but he merely backs out of the doorway to allow the building to heal. Once it's finished, he pushes his way through the door and stands just inside, still ready and wary.
-
"Facinating." Jocun said as the door healed. "And here I thought this place was low tech.
<Maybe it's magic.> Simon said.
<Really? Magic? Well, it does exist in other dimensions. I've seen that.>
-
Garreth notices the building begin to reassemble itself. He narrows his eyes in disbelief; however keeps his attention on the situation at hand.
Parker sees remnants of the door and frame crawl away from them. Obviously, the bar was healing itself once again. He recalls seeing the bar crawl back to itself, and the hole he had made in the roof whole once more. Nothing about the situation amazed him; but he made a note that the large hole was no longer present, and the door would once again become an obstacle in case of an exit. He saw slight movement entering the doorway. It had to be the man standing where the hole was. He too would be an obstacle if he continued to stand his ground.
-
"I was going to go get Zorish," Tamora says quietly, looking abashed. "I'd be safer with him. He knows what to do...I..." She bites her trembling lip, shrugging helplessly and glancing towards the back hallway. "This isn't my fight, anyhow," she says in a stronger voice. "What good would it do for me to get myself hurt? Then Zorish wouldn't have any use for me."
Quietly observant, Aya pulls her comm link from her holster and taps out a quick message.
<<This is foolish, Aya,>> Terliss hisses, although he does not take control. <<Everything we have done up until this point has been carefully planned. There is no need to put that plan in danger. This is bigger than the girl, and you know it.>>
<<Shouldn't we keep an eye on her, though?>> Aya protests, not sounding the least bit swayed by Terliss. <<I mean, the base is a dangerous place, and she tends to get hurt a lot.>>
<<This place is dangerous as well.>>
<<Yeah, but we're here. There aren't many people faster with a Dracon than you are, Terliss. You'll protect her.>>
Terliss' snarl is internal, but a brief look of frustration crosses Aya's features. <<You just want to see them together, gauge Terenia's reaction. Stir up trouble.>>
<<Yes, well, there is that,>> Aya murmurs in amusement. <<Look, you're the one out to make the girl miserable. At least let me attempt to make it a little less painful for her.>>
<<And you think showing her her dead sister will achieve that?>>
<<Maybe.>> Aya shrugs outwardly and sends off the message.
-
Al bounded back into the woods north of the bar and looked around. He began stuffing the devices into various hiding spots, covering an area of a couple hundred yards square, not too far from the bar itself. Into the branches of a tree, he might fling a glowing ball, and under a rock he might stuff an orange cylinder. He had eleven of the balls and two cylinders to place- he moved quickly, but he couldn't help feeling that, for Salem, it wouldn't be quick enough.
Salem's eyes flicked to the man who'd produced an energy sword, and to Jocun. He snorted, but didn't say a word. As though he and Rathien could be convinced to calmly walk outside together, and then fight.
He smirked at Rathien's words. On the one hand, the hunter was talking, and talking a lot, at that. That was good. Saved Salem the trouble of having to stall himself. On the other hand, the things he was saying, though mostly true, could hurt Salem's reputation at this bar. He'd been trying, with moderate success, to project a positive front to this crowd. The last thing he needed was for Rathien to make it that much harder. Never mind the fact that Rathien was still going around calling him Tobias, and very publicly now- he didn't need that name getting out.
He glanced around, briefly- reactions to Rathien's words didn't seem terribly strong, but they definitely had an effect. He cursed silently. Returning his gaze to Rathien, he called over his shoulder to Ossanlin, "I apologize, War Prince. This man is dangerous. I'll try to keep this brief."
To Rathien, he called, "I think you've been spending a bit too much time with Thienal, hunter. Probably want to check your facts before you start accusing me of things you don't understand." As he spoke, he activated his hover boots and glided slowly backwards towards the back hallway. He didn't know how long it would take Al, but if this went downhill, he wanted to have his escape route ready.
"Besides," he grinned, "I am a trader. It's less a 'bit' and more a 'profession.' Something you might look into, Mr. Arm-of-Fate. I could show you what I mean, if you'd just let me perform a quick little procedure on you. Nothing serious."
-
Garreth relaxed a tad as Tobias walked toward the hallway leading to the back door. Perhaps their confrontation will start outside.
Parker tracked Tobias's movements using his motion detector ; but keeps his eyes on the Ildari.
-
~Ossanlin~
<I'm surprised you haven't impacted someone with your ship in an effort to help this bounty hunter.> Ossanlin's tone, while still neutral, is as close wry as it will get. His stalk eyes continue scanning the room as he directs another private thought at Tamora. <<If you're worried about safety, I wouldn't exit at least until this particular situation is resolved. A bit of independence shouldn't harm you.>>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _________________
~Rathien~
Rathien grins, baring his fangs before downing the rest of his drink and setting the glass on the counter. He taps the bar to signal the BT to pour another, which the other does in his characteristic stoic manner. He brings the glass to his lips and has another sip before he returns to swirling the vessel idly.
"A simple procedure. One that will see me dead or chained to you irreparably no doubt. A collar perhaps? One that will snap down on my neck if you so much as pull the leash? Perhaps a long-term toxin for which only you have the antidote? A set of nanobots that obey your directives, a set that will kill me if you die perhaps? Stop me if I guess it." He shakes his head. "Regardless, if you try to collar a wolf, you'll always git bitten in the process." Tobias really wanted him outside. A quick survey of the bar reveals that the 'trader's' artificial construct is no longer there.
"Why don't we just sit down and have a drink, hmm? There's no need to be killing you just yet." Obviously Tobias has some sort of stake in this place or he wouldn't be trying to move things outside. Otherwise he would just run, and that would incite a response from Rathien. But it doesn't seem terribly likely that Tobias is completely willing to abandon this place, so Rathien sees little reason to go chasing after him. It's likely in any case that the dirty AI is waiting outside, ready with some sort of ambush like before.
-
Salem grinned at Rathien. The hunter was definitely better at guessing what the "procedure" would entail than Salem'd given him credit for. "There's no need to be killing me at all, hunter. You know what happens if you do." He mimed a mushroom cloud with his left hand and mouthed, "Pow."
He sighed. This 'stalling' thing was not his forte. "Hunter, I'd rather neither of us wind up trying to kill the other, but we both know that's not in the cards. How'm I ever to trust you?"
Al finished placing the final glowing sphere- this one in the hollow in the base of a tree- and trilled Salem's communicator twice, signalling "affirmative."
Salem paused for a moment as his communicator trilled twice. Good. Al was ready. Without dropping his aim from Rathien, he called, <<Alright, Al, if you can hear me, head back to the bar. Better for Rathien to see you.>> After a brief pause, his communicator trilled twice again.
Al moved quickly towards the bar, and around to the front door. He hadn't been looking forward to having to play "spotter" in Salem's little game. Granted, walking into the bar with Rathien didn't seem much better, but at least he didn't have to pretend not to be himself anymore.
He didn't change his hologram from its invisible setting until just before he opened the door- to those nearby, the tuxedo'd man would have appeared to shimmer into view while reaching for the door handle. He opened the door and stepped inside- Salem was pointing his gun at Rathien.
Al sighed, "Seriously? Do you always have to do things the same way?" he called to Salem across the room. He looked around and made for the table at which the rebels were seated.
-
Despite her fear of him, Tamora finds herself agreeing with Ossanlin, and she stays rooted to the spot, watching the conflict. She is quickly glad that she did not make for the back exit, as one of the strangers seemed to have the same idea. Her eyes flicker back to the front door in time to see a man in a tuxedo walk in. This gives her pause for a second, and she shakes her head in confusion, lowering herself back into her seat.
"I guess I'll wait," she says meekly.
-
Parker makes note that Al had reappeared. It seemed as though he was going to sit with Myitt.
Garreth watched as the tuxedoed android re-entered the bar. He made a comment and removed himself from the scenario.
-
Aya quickly grows bored with the stand-off, noting that it has nothing to do with her, and that it is likely too volatile to become profitable. She swivels back around and continues sipping her orange juice, keeping one eye on the potential fight.
-
Serid raises eyebrows, watching the tense situation from his seat in Myitt and Tamora's booth. "This place seems always to be on the verge of crisis," he murmurs.
"Yeah, no kidding," Illim agrees, his brown eyes following Aya with more attention than he is giving the potential fight. "You think she ran into Keslin on his way out?" he murmurs to Myitt, leaning forward and lowering his voice. "Or is she here, rogue?"
-
This new development didn't seem to be going anywhere very quickly, and Jocun wasn't sure how to end it. Keshin had been deep in thought for a while, and he was wondering what he might do. He decided to skirt around Salem and the assassin and talk to the new girl.
"Hi there. I'm Jocun 119. Have you been here before?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin sniffs disdainfully at Salem before turning his main eyes back on Tamora, leaving a stalk-eye on the tension at hand. His Shredder remains drawn and held at his side for quick access. <Terenia told me something of your homelife Tamora, that it was reprehensible in some way. Tell me, if you would, what would make you abandon your species entirely and voluntarily sacrifice your body to a dominating parasite.> His tone is not harsh, he keeps the tension from his voice as he continues to watch the situation that might erupt at any moment.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ______________
~Rathien~
Rathien chuckles and shakes his head. "The fact that you dress like a suicide bomber makes little difference if there's not collateral damage to inflict. Do these people know that with your death your pretty little suit would likely obliterate this entire bar? Or was that another fact conveniently omitted?"
His eyes flick to the door for a second as Al comes back in...visibly. He wanted to be seen. Still, he must've been doing something out there. "Well, at this point in time, I trust that you have some sort of interest in this place which would explain why you haven't fled or just blown it apart from your ship with me in it. You trust that I don't like collateral damage. So we have an accord, if a tenuous and uneasy one." He takes another sip from his glass and with the vessel still close to his mouth, he gestures at Salem with it, ****ing his head sideways a bit. "Why do you want me to come outside so badly, Tobias?" He watches Salem intently...sometime s being direct could foil the cleverest of people.
-
Aya looks the stranger up and down, memorizing his features. "No, I haven't been here," she says after a moment, smiling brightly despite the tension in the room. "I've been in orbit above the place several times, but it was always Keslin's job to come down and mingle with the common folk." She laughs, shaking back her dark hair.
"Jocun One-One-Nine, I'm Aya. And the quiet guy in my head is Terliss Three-Two-Eight. He won't talk much, so don't bother trying to get to know him." She smirks and offers her right hand in a shake. "So you're a Yeerk, then. A Yeerk who didn't introduce his host right away. Imperial?" She doesn't seem to be offended or particularly wary by the possibility that she is speaking to an Imperial. Just curious.
Tamora jerks in surprise. "What does she know of our homelife? She abandoned it when we were ten." Her voice is harsher than it has been since she entered the bar, and for a moment she is indistinguishable from her sister, the anger on her face overcoming her timidity.
Taking a deep breath she calms herself somewhat, glancing nervously at the conflict between Rathien and Salem before continuing. "My father was a drunk, and he had anger issues. He liked to take them out on Danny and me...and Teresa, when she was there." She shrugs. "It's not like the rest of humanity is much better. Sit through any history class and all you hear about is war and death and endless bloodshed. All of humanity is...we're evil. We don't deserve our freedom."
-
Simon took control. "I'm Simon. Yeah, my boss is an imperial who sometimes remembers to introduce me, and sometimes doesn't. We're good imperials, though, since the war has been over for more than a century. It's very different, due in no small part to a rebellion. So you're friends with Keshin? we've been helping her out. we usually like to give mercenaries better jobs so they're not always hunting around and doing shady business, but Keshin didn't jump on that wagon right away." The middle aged, in shape man said, shaking her hand.
"We're on vacation, and even though there are people here from a past when the war is still going, Jocun decided to stay and let people experience a better kind of imperial. Needless to say the Andalites aren't wild about us, and the rebel we met isn't as good natured as we expected. There seem to be a good variety of personalities in this bar."
<surely your history books also spoke of great achievements of your people. You cannot focus too much on the bad things. Every civilization does things that future people would likely find cruel and evil, but that's just a sign of things getting better in some places at least.> Claxter said.
-
"Keslin," Aya repeats. "Keslin, not Keshin. Close, but different. I don't know of many Keshin's." She considers the man called Simon for a minute. "A better kind of Imperial?" she repeats, laughing again. "Well, that's just silly. Every group has people who are better and worse. The Imperials have some pretty awesome people, and so do the rebels. Both groups also have some pretty ****ty people." She shrugs, withdrawing her hand and sipping her orange juice. "I can appreciate your tenacity, though. It's hard to get an Andalite to like a Yeerk. Makes for a fun game, though." She grins.
Tamora snorts derisively. "A few good deeds don't make up for the atrocities of millions," she says simply.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin raises an eyebrow, taking in the information. He listens and then speaks when Tamora and Claxter fall silent. <Nor do the atrocities of a few negate the good deeds of millions...>
-
"My mistake. Old ears, I guess. We actually have a few Andalite friends on our ship, though they're used to working alongside Yeerks. Not that our universe doesn't have extremists. It is as you pointed out. Some bad, some good."
"I assure you I don't mean any bar patron any harm." Jocun said. "This is a very interesting place, and I suppose some people could do bad things in a place like this, though I try to keep up good PR. Climbing the ladder is more about keeping good ties and being constructive, rather than stepping over people like in the old days."
-
Salem sighed and rolled his eyes- he didn't need Rathien letting out more of his secrets. The hunter may not kill him outright, but getting the right word out may be just as good. He smirked and ****ed his head at the hunter's final question about 'wanting him outside.' Salem was getting careless, too obvious, it appeared, but this was good- Rathien was very perceptive, and very level-headed. An exiting opponent, to be sure- Salem was beginning to realize just how dangerous. He'd never really thought of him as anything other than just another gun for hire before.
Salem chose only to address Rathien's final comment, with a shrug and an offhand, "Avoid collateral damage."
Without another word, he pulled the trigger of his gun, still trained on the hunter. The loud crrrrraaaaack! resonated through the little bar like the blast of a shotgun.
On this low setting, an impact from the gun would be felt like a hammer blow- causing slight trauma to soft tissues. The effect rarely caused permanent damage, but it was almost always quite painful. The stregnth of the weapon, and the aim of Salem's shot, however, lay in the targeting of the core. A proper shot to the lungs could force air from them, winding and stunning. A hit to the stomach might force vomiting. An extremely lucky shot to the heart or brain might even cause temporary unconsciousness.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin jerks as Salem fires, quickly commanding the Shredder to its stun setting he raises his arm with only a trifle less speed than a tail-strike and fires at Salem.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __________________
~Rathien~
Rathien notices the slight tensing in Salem's muscles that foretell the pulling of a trigger just a hair of a second beforehand. He drops the tumbler of miruvin and pushes his right boot against the skirt of the bar, hurling his weight to his left, toppling from the stool as his hand draws the Entroper, set to its previous level...a beam strong enough to destabilize inter-molecular bonds. Anything it hit would be reduced to free-ranging independent molecules. The immediate effect would be the break-up of hydrogen bonds causing any water in its path to boil away, followed by the breakup of complex molecules like proteins. Quite lethal if the beam hit anything vital, and even if the beam itself did not, the secondary trauma would not be insignificant.
Rathien aims for one of Salem's knees, blowing everything up would solve nothing after all, but given the knee-jerk reaction coupled with tumbling through the air, an accurate shot would be called lucky at best. At the same time, he kicks the glass of liquor as it falls through the air, in the direction of Salem's face as a distraction.
All of this takes milliseconds, but the time draws out for Rathien, as if things move in slow-motion. Training had granted him many abilities, and this is a particularly handy one. Even as Rathien fires his shot, he feels the gravity blast catch his right ankle as he cartwheels off the stool. A precision weapon would've missed entirely, but the grav-pistol was not exactly precision. Rathien's foot is jerked violently backwards, the rest of his leg and body pulled along for the ride as his cartwheel turns into an uncontrolled tumble. He blocks out the searing pain, knowing that while his tibia and fibula are not broken, they are probably hairlined now, and he feels definite strain-damage in his knee and hip. It feels as if some of his tarsals have been stretched and partially disjointed as well. He concentrates on controlling his fall as he tumbles backwards and sideways. He turns the tumble into a roll and lands on his left foot and right knee, bracing and balancing with his left hand on the floor. His hip protests to the weight, but at least the pain stems from a heavy strain and nothing else. He's careful to keep his lower right leg and foot off the ground, keeping it from bearing weight. Putting any strain on it might expand the hairline fractures, and that would be most unpleasant.
He looks up from his crouch, ready to dodge again as he levels the Entroper in his right hand at Salem, hissing through his teeth in pain...he can already feel the blood pooling into a deep bruise at the site of impact.
-
Parker watched the encounter. Tobias had fired first again. This situation had changed from what it had been before. Before, it was an ambush, an assassination; and Parker helped Tobias from being slaughtered. This, however, was different; both men were aware of each other's presence and determination. This was now between them. In the first encounter, the assassin had attacked first; now Tobias had. This is a fair fight; and there is no true victim other than the loser. Parker kept his shotgun drawn and kept his stance following his constant target; but he did nothing further to help Tobias. Tobias was on his own now.
Garreth felt the attack happen before it happened. He Force Pushed anyone behind Tobias's target out of the way. It would be gentle, and not too disrupting; but enough to get them clear of any harm. After the shot had been made; Garreth picked up a collection of bottles on the bar with the Force and threw them in the path of the second shot coming from the Ildari; hoping to block its effects.
-
Simon felt his body move by itsself, and it was different from when Jocun did it. Both were alarmed when Salem shot at Rathien, starting a firefight right in the bar. Jocun, now in control, noticed one of the patrons levitate some bottles to act as some sort of shield. Under these circumstances, he wouldn't get involved. Salem should never have fired a shot in a crowded room, so it was hard to side with him. Especially since Jocun's last attempt to help was met with suspicion. He didn't want to attack Rathien either for fear of making an already bad situation worse. Though he noticed one Andalite already firing anyway for no apparent reason. Maybe simply to end it quickly.
Zoshonel watched the commotion with interest. He made no comment about being moved, as if there had been enough time to warn him, there would have been enough time for him to move on his own.
Claxter tensed at the shot, and raised his weapon. He didn't fire as his Prince did, but wiated to see what happened next.
-
"I didn't assume you did mean anyone harm," Aya says, shrugging. "I don't know of any Imperial, no matter what timeline they're from, who would be stupid enough to walk into a bar full of rebels and outcasts and attempt to assert any authority. As for climbing the ladder..." She smirks. "That sounds awfully boring."
Further commentary is interrupted by the sudden firefight as the tension in the room finally comes to a head. With frightening speed, Aya's Dracon is drawn, aimed at Salem, who is the closest to her, and therefore the easiest shot. Her expression has shifted, and it is flatter now, the good humor gone.
"Tell me, Jocun, are firefights like this common here?" Aya's voice is terse, and another Yeerk might notice the shift in control. Terliss still does not fire the weapon, though. It is not his fight - he is just protecting Aya, should circumstances demand it.
"There are more bad people than good people," Tamora insists. Then she is cut off by the sudden firing, a sound that sends her diving back into the booth, practically on top of Myitt, her eyes wide.
-
"Well I witnessed a kidnapping, and those two were in an earlier fight that I was involved in. Personally I really hate firefights breaking out in crowded areas, though I'd really rather avoid adding to the shot count and don't have any guards to neutralize this quickly. I'm really beginning to wish I had brought a few. I know they'd be worried if they knew my situation."
-
Terliss glances sharply at Jocun. "You talk a lot," he says, Aya's friendliness utterly gone. "I asked if fights broke out here often, not how you felt about them."
He maintains his protective position, watching the strangers cautiously.
-
<Their personalities are quite mismatched. I wonder how they were paired up.> Jocun thought to himself and Simon.
<Not everyone has an organization whose sole focus is find pairs and seeing the host and Yeerk work well together.>
On the outside he simply remained quiet and watched the situation.
-
Salem was ready for Rathien- he'd been all but expecting this to turn into a firefight. Of course he couldn't be lucky enough to KO the hunter with one shot. As Rathien raised his weapon, Salem ducked sideways and dropped into a lower stance. The shot, he could see, would have been wide even if he hadn't moved- it was a difficult shot even for Rathien. Salem winced only slightly when the shot caused the wall of the hallway behind him to erupt, and dipped his head with a smirk as a glass flew over it.
He'd also been ready for a certain amount of interference from the bar's other patrons. In that split second, even as he moved, he took note of who was reacting and how- Jocun seemed to be staying out of it, as did Parker. The new girl was reaching for her weapon, and Claxter and the War Prince, he could see in his peripheral vision, were moving and raising their weapons as well. A number of bottles from the bar had seemed to throw themselves in the way of Rathien's shot, and had been only a hair too slow to intercept it. But who...?
What he hadn't counted on was Ossanlin's quickness to fire. His dodge took him directly into the War Prince's Shredder blast- it hit him full in the side. The armor he was now wearing absorbed much of the energy from the shot, but it still knocked him sideways, into the wall, where his head smacked against the doorway. As if the stun effect that made it around and through his armor wasn't bad enough by itself. He looked at the Andalite with an expression that, within a very short period of time, ran from shock, to disbelief, to fear, and finally to white-hot anger.
He looked back to Rathien as the hunter righted himself. He'd have to deal with the War Prince later.
Without a word, Salem fired two more shots towards Rathien- hopefully the fact that his vision was now swimming and his torso now numbed wouldn't affect his shots too much. As he pulled the trigger for his second shot, his cloak changed color to the point that he seemed to disappear from the visible spectrum.
He stepped forwards, away from the hallway, and sideways. The cloak wouldn't render him completely invisible, though the effect did extend beyond the fabric itself- his face and boots that weren't covered by the cloak might wind up fading into view from time to time. Still, decreased visibility was far preferable to standing in the middle of the bar being shot at.
-
Illim tenses at the sound of shots being fired, particularly one so close to their own booth. He frowns up at Ossanlin but immediately returns his attention to the larger fight. His right hand slides down off the table and to his holster, his fingers sliding around the Dracon there.
"Myitt," he murmurs tersely, not liking how close they are to one of those who has fired shots. "What goes around comes around," he adds, giving Ossanlin a significant glance. Then he flinches as Salem fires twice more.
<<Who the hell has a fight like this in a crowded area?>> he demands of Daniel, his host.
Daniel pays no attention to the internal conversation, more focused on ensuring Myitt's and their own safety.
For his part, Serid mimics his Prince's actions to a point, drawing his own weapon--a standard Imperial-issue Dracon--but not firing it. He looks anxiously around the booth, trapped in the back of it, and then begins to worm his way past the patrons with whom he is sharing a table in order to be closer to Ossanlin and Claxter.
-
As each shot rings out, Aya flinches slightly, her dark eyes tracking the situation. Her eyebrows raise slightly when one of the assailants seems to disappear.
<<Hologram?>> Aya asks Terliss.
<<Likely. This place may be more profitable than I anticipated. Assuming we do not get shot.>>
<<That's encouraging>> Aya can't roll her eyes, but the thought is there.
For his own part, Terliss remains crouched and ready to defend himself if necessary. None of the shots are headed his way, but that doesn't mean that a misfire might make its way to him.
Tammy gives a little yelp of surprise when the firing becomes heavier, and she looks around frantically for some sort of exit. Wedged into the booth as she is, though, it would require her to get around the Andalites -- one of whom had fired his own weapon. Eventually she just hunches down in the booth, hoping the tall back and the people around her will provide protection.
"I need Zorish," she whimpers.
-
Parker continued to watch the altercation. When Tobias activated his partial cloaking. It wasn't as effective as either his or the Ildari's. He was still somewhat visible; though he still relied mostly on his motion detector to follow his movements. As long as this fight stayed contained between the two men, Parker continued to stay out of the fight.
Garreth Rob felt the next two shots coming and lifted a stool between the two, hoping to diffuse the attacks. When the attacker activated a cloaking device, Garreth used the Force to track his position and movements.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin watches as his stun hit lands dead on but Salem keeps moving, flashing him a look to kill. <Salem, feral humanoid, stop this now or you'll both be stunned and detained.> Ossanlin draws his second shredder and trains it on Rathien. <Whatever your dispute is, I won't have you endangering innocent lives with it.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _________________
~Rathien~
Rathien snarls as Salem fires off two more rounds. He takes in the form of Ossanlin and then notes the Shredder trained on him. Not on Salem's side obviously, but not on his either. He hurls his body sideways again as the shots near him and some furniture somehow floats into the path of the shot. Rathien winces as the furniture is hurled in his direction, a bar-stool striking his shoulder as the rest flies wide. He catches himself in a similar position as before. He keeps the Entroper leveled at Salem but does not fire, glancing once at the Andalite before returning his eyes back to Salem. Those who'd helped Salem before were not this time, but the situation is still too volatile...curse Tobias for starting this here and now. But of course he would...the advantage lies with him.
He glances at the front door, still blocked by another patron...he did hate retreating, but this situation is not conducive to accomplishing any of his desired results. He glances at the hallway in the back, presumably toward another exit but dismisses it immediately...it would carry him closer to too many people, Tobias included. He glances at the nearest wall...there's a possibility...he decides to wait before exercising it to see what would happen next. After all, outside probably isn't much better than in...who could know what surprises Tobias had waiting out there.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _______________
~Raile~
Raile watches the firefight unfold...one being seems to possess a small gravity-modification device...like a hover-unit converted into a handheld weapon, the other seems to possess a chemical modulating device...some kind of bond-disruptor perhaps. Interesting weapons, and both very effective in completely different ways, and both unlike the technology in either blasters or light-sabers.
He glances at the crouched being, some sort of feral humanoid, and locks gazes with him for a moment. Raile doesn't plan on moving and allows his serene but penetrating gaze to rest on the feral just long enough to let him know that the front door isn't an exit at this particular moment. The strange centaur-like creature...the larger one...seems to be attempting to resolve the situation peacefully. He continues to watch and wait, not interfering with Garreth.
-
Garreth is pleased that his actions are helping keep others alive; but neither of the offenders are leaving the crowded space. He looks to Raile and speaks to him telepathically, <<Raile, we need to get these two outside of the buidling. Tobias only wants the Ildari, so I'm certain he would exit the building if the other were to exit as well. Earlier it seemed as though Tobias was attempting to draw the Ildari outside; however the Ildari decided to stay inside, using the patrons as cover. We need to extricate the Ildari and move this fight outside away from innocent people. Join me in attempting to throw the Ildari out of the front door. Tobias is sure to follow.>>
He concentrates on the Ildari's position and waits for his friend's response before attempting anything.
-
Jocun listened to Ossanlin speak. He wondered if he should attempt to back the Andalite up. Obviously they were in agreement, but they weren't friends. Would speaking up be helpful or hurtful at this time? Personally he just wished he had his own guards before trying to force hostile people to settle down.
-
Salem rolled his eyes, a motion barely visible as his face shimmered in and out of visibility. "I'm not going to hurt anyone, War Prince," he called out, ducking behind a particularly thick cluster of chairs around an empty table. His words sounded oddly muffled to his ringing ears.
Rathien wasn't shooting back... he supposed that was somewhat expected, what with his aversion to collateral damage, but with his leg apparently injured, this was quickly turning the situation to Salem's advantage- he had time to hunker down and try to recover from Ossanlin's shot, while keeping the hunter continuously off-balance.
He kept an eye on every bit of this situation that he could- the flying furniture seemed to be moving in response to the man with the energy sword- a telekinetic being, apparently. Half the bar seemed ready to shoot at him- which was fine in these circumstances- his camouflage and artificially-induced adrenaline state ought to make him ready for attacks from other directions. And Rathien... appeared to be checking out escape routes. Good. Retreat was his best option at this point- it was the course Salem would have taken in his position. When the hunter made his move, it might provide an opportunity. Doors and windows created pinch-points through which the hunter must move in order to get outside; Salem would have an opportunity- albeit a very brief one- in which he knew exactly where the hunter would be. He reigned in his firing rate slightly- he wanted to keep the hunter on edge, but still let him believe he could escape.
Rathien was still visible, though. He hadn't activated his camouflage. What game was the hunter playing?
He thought-spoke to Rathien, <<This would be so much easier...>> he fired a shot at the hunter's torso, <<If you'd just stay still.>>
-
"Will...you...get...off of me?" Myitt demands, trying to reach under Tamora's body to her own Dracon.
As she struggles she glances sharply across the table at Illim and Daniel.
"Think we can get out of here without getting turned into Swiss ****ing cheese?" she breathes, still wincing under Tamora's weight.
-
"Depends on how long this fight carries on," Illim grunts, wincing sympathetically as he watches Myitt trapped under Tamora. He grunts in irritation as Serid finally manages to climb over him and make it to Ossanlin's side. Ducking his host's head as another shot is fired, he looks up at Myitt from his bent-over angle. "Maybe we shouldn't have parked ourselves right beside the Andalite who decided to join the fight for no apparent reason," Illim mutters, making his irritation with the War Prince obvious as he turns his gaze on him with a scowl.
-
"So," Myitt breathes, trying to peer over the edge of the booth, "either we stay here and wait for a stray shot to vaporize this whole table into splinters, or we wait for it to die down. I sure as hell ain't getting involved in a firefight that's not worth dying for."
-
Claxter moved aside a bit for Myitt and the others to attempt to make for the door. <I could attempt to cover your escape, though I have no clear plan for that at this moment.>
-
Tamora squeaks in surprise when Myitt struggles to push her off. Unsure where to go, she half tumbles out of the booth, doing her best to keep a wide berth between her and the Andalites.
Standing shakily, her wide, frightened eyes dart between the assailants. "What do I do?" she whispers, pressed against the back of the booth.
-
"Get down, you idiot, just not on top of me," Myitt hisses, moving to push Tamora down at the shoulders, and half pulling her back into the booth, with a little more room.
-
Glad for some direction, Tamora lets Myitt pull her back into the booth, doing as she is told. "Now what do we do?" she asks in a quavering whisper, her eyes darting between the adversaries. The weapon Zorish had left her is untouched at her side -- she seems to have entirely forgotten that she has it.
-
"We sit here and try not to die, caught in some stupid firefight for some stupid reason," Myitt says, rolling her eyes. "And if anyone points a gun at you, you use yours." She takes the gun from Tamora's holster and jams it into Tamora's hands. "Just...keep it aimed at the floor for right now. No, not at my feet, damnit..."
-
<I really don't think giving her a firearm is a good thing, Myitt.> Claxter said. Though she ignored his earlier comment and would probably ignore his present one too.
-
Tamora looks down at the weapon in her hands and swallows. "I've never shot it before," she says in a strained whisper, her eyes darting back to the conflict.
-
Al had kept low when the firefight had started, and had managed to make his way in a low crouch over to the table at which Myitt and the others were gathered, his face a mixture of annoyance, fear, and, if one were looking very closely, amusement.
"I am SO not with him," he said in a tense whisper, nodding towards Salem.
-
<Yes you are, and you need to get Salem, or Tobias, or whatever his real name is, to stop shooting!> Claxter said.
-
Still crouched beside the table, Al raised an eyebrow at Claxter. "Easier said than done. I think you're overestimating my influence here," he said, still in a tense whisper.
-
<You're his closest ally here, and the most knowledgeable. Surely you know something that could help this situation before someone gets seriously injured or killed.>
-
Still crouched, Al smiled and shook his head at Claxter. "If I knew what to do, I'd already be doing it. Open to suggestions. This is totally killing my vibe."
He glanced around behind him. There seemed to be a bit of a lull in the fight. What's more, thanks to the angles and positions involved, it looked like stray shots wouldn't even come close to the front door at the moment.
"Who's up for getting the heck outta here?" he whispered tersely to the table at large. He made his way, still crouched low, as quickly as he could to and out the front door. "Scuse me," he said, brushing by a man in the doorway. Once outside, he stood up straight and drew a deep breath of the air.
-
<al is correct. No shots have been fired recently, so if we can make our way to the door and the Human lets us by, we could be safe.> Claxter said. <If you don't mind.> He said directly to the man at the entrance.
-
Tamora scoots forward, eager at the chance for an escape, but reluctant to leave Myitt's size. Zorish had given her very specific instructions to retrieve supplies from the rebel, and she doesn't want to fail at her first assignment free of the Yeerk.
"Myitt," she whispers nervously. "Maybe we should go..."
-
Myitt blinks at Al, surprised at his sudden appearance.
"You could've fooled me," she hisses at the holographic entity. She turns her attention to Tamora. "Yeah, well, it sounds like people have temporarily stopped turning each other into Swiss cheese." Myitt licks her lips, glancing over her shoulder at the door. "Let's make a break for it." She nods at Illim, scooting to the edge of the seat and pushing Tamora along.
With a quick movement she grabs Tamora's hand and bolts for the doorway.
-
Illim turns his eyes on Serid and gives his old friend a tight nod, not knowing if he'd see him again here, and then swiftly follows Myitt and Tamora, eyes guarded and left hand resting on the Dracon at his hip.
Serid watches the rebels and Claxter a brief moment as they depart and offers Illim a silent, <<Farewell,>> before turning his two dark eyes back on Ossanlin. <<Instruct me if I can be of assistance, sir,>> he murmurs.
-
Tamora gives a little squeal of surprise when Myitt grabs her hand and tugs her forward, but after a few stumbling steps she follows eagerly, more than willing to be away from the firefight.
"Is it...always...like this...in here?" she gasps as she runs, her eyes wide.
-
"Yeah, pretty much," Myitt yells as they run out the door and into the shipyard, their shoes crunching on the gravel.
-
Claxter didn't wish to leave his Prince unless ordered. There were still others who hadn't left.
Jocun noticed others leaving. "This might be a good time to leave." He said to Terliss. Or Aya. Whoever was the decision maker between them. He didn't want to grab her by the arm, as she may react drastically to that, but he didn't want to leave them.
-
Al turned around as various other patrons of the bar made their way outside. Turning to Claxter, he said, loudly and theatrically enough to be heard in a wider area, "I think I'm gonna open a club on the other side of this rock. No gunfights allowed. Drive this place right out of business."
-
"That sounds boring!" Zoshonel yelled back. "Though to be honest this gunfight is looking a bit like the recent sparring I did outside, aside from the fact that these two are trying to kill each other." He said in a normal voice.
-
Parker made note of the others leaving. He looked at the two men in their endless stand-off. This wasn't his fight, and Tobias certainly should be able to handle himself. He shrugged and kept his shotgun leveled at the scenario as he backed away and out of the back door. He walked around the bar and replied to Al's comment, "That wouldn't stop anything, people would still get in fights; they would just use broken bottles instead of atomic disruptors."
-
Tamora doesn't speak again until they are out in the fresh air, putting the fight safely behind them. She stumbles to a stop next to Myitt, gasping for breath, shaking like a leaf. "I don't think I want to stay here much longer," she says quietly, remaining close to Myitt. In fact, she seems reluctant to move more than a foot or two away from the rebel Controller.
-
"Fine," Myitt says, putting a foot of distance between herself and the terrified human girl all the same. "So Zorish wanted supplies, is that it? And if we give you those, you'll leave us alone?"
She turns on her heel without waiting for an answer, stalking off towards her ship.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin watches the firefight and growls as nobody seems to be listening. He has no particular friendship with either of those involved in the fight. He glances at the doorway, still being blocked by another human. Just as his stalk-eye scans the door again, he notices the human move out of the way to clear the door, that was best. <I suggest you both vacate or I will make good on my threats.> His tone is still cool but steely hard, soft like silk on iron, full of command.
He glances a stalk eye at Serid, then Claxter. <<If you would both ready your weapons set for stun and each choose a target, it would provide a better threat, both visually and in truth.>>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ______________
~Rathien~
Rathien snarls again as he's forced to hurl himself to the side again. Mid-flip, he discharges a wide beam at the wall nearest him and the wood explodes in sequentially finer particles until it is nothing but hot mist and Rathien dives through. He immediately springs around the side of the bar and leaps with his one good leg. He cannot mount the roof in a smooth jump without the other, but he jumps high enough to be able to pull himself up with his arms. He crouches and moves towards the middle of the building, drawing a bead on both the hole he'd just created in the front of the bar and the front door. He glances towards the back door before returning his scrutiny to the front. Tobias was using camouflage...it would be all too easy to miss him completely without absolute concentration, and he could not watch both ways as such. There are now two egresses out front and he notices a human standing to the side. The human glances up with a look of absolute serenity, though the expression also belies the focus of a warrior. Without a word, the human goes back to watching the bar through the open door, and Rathien returns his focus to the area out front. He grimaces, abhorring the thought of killing Tobias without the guidance of fate, but self-defense is a different matter altogether.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Raile~
Raile senses Garreth's thoughts. He cannot understand them in the manner of a language, but instead can feel impulses and the gist of thought directed from the other. He raises his eyebrows momentarily before nodding and stepping out of the doorway, clearing it of obstruction. Just then he senses a buildup of energy and reaches through the Force. The wall behind him explodes and he Pushes the shrapnel away from himself. A figure rolls through the new opening and immediately springs around the side of the bar. It is one of the antagonists, the long-haired one. He senses the being exert himself and mount the roof. He glances up and locks eyes with the humanoid for a moment before returning his eyes to the bar-door, watching with calm focus, letting the events unfold as they would.
-
Parker heard the explosion and looked toward the source. The Ildari jumped out of the bar and onto the roof. He was obviously hoping to ambush Tobias now that he had exited the building. Parker was glad the fight was actually progressing again. Hopefully they'd be able to work out the difficulty, or finish one or the other off. Having them both in the same vicinity was to volatile.
Garreth watched as the Ildari exited the bar. He could sense he was still nearby; so the danger was not completely clear. He sat back down at the table with Zoshonel. He called the bartender over and ordered another Tarisian Ale with the house special.
-
If Claxter was going to choose one, he wanted to choose the new guy since he seemed to have the more dangerous weapon. Though he was now outside the room. <<With one of them gone, perhaps we should just focus on Salem and get him into a back room before Rathien finishes him off.>>
-
"Hey...slow down!" Tamora cries, hurrying after Myitt. It seems oddly still outside after the fight in the bar. The sound of her boots crunching over the gravel seems almost loud, and the ship graveyard seems particularly menacing.
-
When a large section of the wall exploded, Salem instinctively guarded his face with his hand and looked away. By the time he looked back a split second later, he just managed to catch sight of Rathien exiting through the destruction. His finger squeezed the trigger of his weapon on impulse, a shot firing through the hole, but he knew even as he fired that it was too slow.
Salem grinned and looked around the bar. This was getting interesting. Fun, even. He'd have been disappointed if a hunter as skilled as Rathien had made it easy.
So... where would Rathien go? He'd probably expect Salem to be hot on his heels, and as such, would likely be watching for his exit. The hunter hadn't used his camouflage yet... either he was saving it for an opportune moment, or something was wrong with it. If it were the former, now would be the time to use it.
Almost casually, Salem reached up and flipped down an optical device resembling silver sunglasses from inside his hood. This was a cobbled-together imaging device capable of showing a wide range of data normally invisible to the naked eye, and, Salem figured, his best shot of actually being able to see Rathien when cloaked. The hunter's camouflage was far too thorough for Salem to be able to see him clearly, but by reading and calculating things like air movement, gravitational field shift, and time dilation, the device ought to be able to give a fairly solid approximation of his location.
Biting his tongue in order to avoid saying anything he might regret to Ossanlin, Salem began moving with a "roller skating" motion towards the front door. He leapt lightly over the doorframe. As he did so, the image on his cloak shifted- it still limited his visibility, but now what could be described as a shadow or ghost seemed to appear in the air about a foot to his left. Even as he rounded the doorframe, Salem aimed for the shipyard.
Al laughed and looked at Zoshonel, then Parker. He winced as the wall of the bar exploded, but ignored it. "Fights can be organized, and lots of folks are into that," he said. "But then, who wants to fight..." he put on his best theatrical expression and twirled in place. He ended it facing Parker with a flourish, "...when you can dance?"
-
"Uh, dancing is for mating." Zoshonel said. "I don't think this will be a hot new spot for a bunch of Draconeans to come visit."
-
Serid inclines his head to Ossanlin in a nod of assent, drawing his Imperial Dracon from his holster and raising it slowly, the setting never changing from stun. This... he predicts, struggling to track Salem, will prove difficult.
Illim darts out the door behind Myitt, Tamora and Salem, hurrying to join his fellow rebel. "What a mess," he scowls, looking back at the building in agitation as he comes to a ragged stop beside Myitt, panting. "That fight better not follow us out here..."
He turns his eyes on Tamora. "You, uh... okay? You didn't get hurt or anything, did you?" he asks the quaking woman.
-
As the fight went outside, Zoshonel left the bar too, still wanting to see how this would end.
-
Parker tilted his head slightly. He asked, "So what the deal with Tobias? Why the charade with the name change. I've wanted to ask from the moment he almost told me his name when I first met him; but I figured I'd let him have his anonymity. Now that his secret is out, why'd he lie in the first place?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin watches as first the Ildari leaves, shortly followed by Salem. He takes a deep breath and lowers his Shredders, holstering them. He glances at Serid's weapon and frowns a bit. He had thought he'd issued Serid a Shredder when he'd promoted the Warrior, perhaps he was confusing it with the one he'd issued Efaen.
<Claxter, I would appreciate an eye on that altercation if you would. From a distance if you can. If you deem the matter to no longer be of importance, you are free to do as you wish. I'm leaving the decision, and the responsibility, in your hands. I will trust in your judgment.>
He moves his main eyes to Serid. <As for you Warrior, it's time you were properly outfitted...follow me.> Ossanlin trots down the back hallway, not wanting to share possible proximity with Salem while he's still engaged with the other.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _______________
~Rathien~
Rathien concentrates on the front of the bar and just as he sees Salem's "shadow" drift out on those hover-skates, he fires four quick shots in a vicinity pattern around and at the image. His Entroper beeps protest as it cools after the quick repeated fire. He continues to crouch on the back side of the roof, his weapon trained as he waits to see the results of his weapon discharges, ready to spring backwards and roll off the back of the roof if the results are, more likely than not, less favorable than it seems.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _____________
~Raile~
Raile continues to watch the stiuation as it moves outside. As the being on the roof fires, he draws upon the Force again and springs backwards and away from the bar, flipping away from the debris cloud that erupts in the wake of the molecular decay weapon's multiple discharge.
-
Garreth notices the explosions emanating from around his ally. He jumps from his seat, rolls to the destroyed wall and Force Pulls both of his light sabers to his hands, igniting them. He looks up at the Ildari, guessing where the shots had come from as they were pointed explosions, suggesting they came from above. He calls out, "If after all this, you do harm an innocent; you will have me to deal with. Before I aimed to deflect damage. Keep your quarrel contained or you will have more than one adversary at this establishment!"
Garreth reached out with the Force, making sure Raile had not been harmed. He kept careful watch on the Ildari's movements, ready for anything.
-
<Yes Prince Ossanlin.> Claxter said. He madehis way outside, trying to findone or both of them. Salem was using camoflauge, so he'dbe hard to track. rathien wasn't, but his weapon was more dangerous. It was a tough pick, but Claxter would not baulk at it.
-
"I'm fine," Tamora says, eyeing Illim a little warily. "I just...don't like conflict." She glances back towards the bar and laughs nervously. "Guess I'm in the wrong place."
-
Myitt scowls at Tamora, looking between her and Illim, before snapping to the ship for the hatch to open.
The ramp extends and she stalks up into the cabin, eager to leave this unwanted firefight behind.
"Come on, unless you want to get shot," she calls, gesturing to Tamora and Illim both.
-
Al laughed easily in response to Parker's question, "He's a very cautious guy. Changing his name is just an extra layer of security." He grinned, "I'm pretty sure 'Tobias' isn't his real name any more than 'Salem' is." He shrugged, "I think part of it is just that he occasionally decides to cast off his old life and be someone new. Names can have a pretty strong influence on a person's belief in themselves." He winced as more shots were fired nearby. He gestured in the general direction of the gunfight, "For example, this whole mess is a lot more 'Tobias' than 'Salem.'"
Salem dipped to a knee as Rathien's first shot ignited the air to his left, his momentum causing him to roll forward. It was a good shot; had the projected shadow actually been Salem, it would have hit him square in the shoulder. He dipped his head and held his breath just in time to avoid catching a face-full of the earth that had exploded upwards at the Entroper's shot. Rathien's second shot sizzled through the air to his right so closely that he could feel the heat from the reaction that was an artifact of the beam.
Not bad, he thought, but a little too bold.
As he rolled through the edge of yet another explosion of debris, he twisted himself and managed to land in a semi-standing position, facing back the direction he'd come from. The view of the bar was still mostly obscured by dust and dirt, but Salem's visualization device allowed him to see through it clearly enough. Rathien was on the roof. He loved his higher places. Like fighting a Hork-Bajir. What's more, he was still visible.
As his weapon swung around to face the bar, he used his free hand to twist the power setting to maximum. He squeezed off a quick shot, not aiming for Rathien, but for the roof of the bar under his feet. With the power at maximum, the roof would explode outward, throwing wood shrapnel in all directions.
Always thought this place could use a skylight.
-
Tamora winces at the sound of further shots coming from the direction of the bar. With a terrified glance behind her she sprints up the ramp and onto Myitt's Bug.
"I really hate this place," she gasps, coming to a halt just inside the cabin.
-
Parker sees the shot made at the building itself. He reels with anger and shoots a shotgun round in front of Tobias; mostly to get his atteniton. He yells out, "What the hell do you think you're doing? There are people in that building. People who have nothing to do with your fight. Leave them out of your squabbles!"
He shoots a look to Al and says, "Whatever trap you set up for your boss, tell him to spring it now; because if he keeps endangering people like this, he's gonna have two dangerous people coming after him."
Garreth was enjoying the steak the bartender brought him; but something felt uneasy. The fight had progressed outside; but he still felt like he was in danger. He stood up slowly and suddenly the roof exploded. Garreth drew his light sabers and blocked any pieces that almost hit him. He looked around to see if anyone had been hurt.
-
Claxter sees Salem shoot the roof of the building, where Rathien is. Frankly, he agreed with Parker. <<He's chasing Rathien. Perhaps if we can get rathien away from the building, Salem will continue to follow.>> He said privately.
Jocun flinched as the shot hit the building. "Great. It's outside, but still close enough for the building to take damage."
Zoshonel flew up to the roof from a side where the firing wouldn't hit him. If Rathien wasn't knocked off the roof, he may need to help him leave.
-
Illim flinches at the sound of more destruction emanating from the already-dilapidated building and swiftly follows Tamora and Myitt up the ramp and onto her familiar ship. Shoving hands in his pockets, he stands in the hull's opening, watching the dust fly from the Bar. "Geez, they don't know when to stop, do they," he mutters, wandering deeper into the ship and lazily slouching into the weapons console chair.
Serid cannot help but duck, his hands flying upward to protect his neck and head as the destruction of the Bar threatens his safety. He hurries after Ossanlin, exhaling sharply in relief once he's in the relative quiet of the hallway. <<Thank you, sir,>> he murmurs privately, glancing back at the debris and dust filling the main room behind him, lowering his arms back to his sides. <<Will you remove the Dracon from me?>> he asks. <<It is still effective, of course, although I know it is hardly standard issue for the military.>>
-
Al raised an eyebrow, but didn't waste time wondering how Parker knew he'd set a trap. Even if he'd expected an honest answer, he wasn't exactly interested. The violence at this bar- especially that perpetrated by Salem- was beginning to grate his nerves.
"I think this is out of my hands at this point," he said to Parker. He frowned, trying to think of a way out of this, and looked concernedly in the direction of Salem. He couldn't really see the trader, but he started running through ideas in his head all the same.
-
Parker saw Al's eyebrow raise. Apparently Parker's intuition about Al's disappearance before was spot on. His eyebrow was all the affirmation he needed. He heard Al's excuse and ****ed his head saying, "Please, you're a construct, he has an amazing array of advanced tech. You're telling me you can't send him a message? Encourage him to move the fight along? Tell him that anymore stalling is causing him to gain more enemies?" Parker straightened his head and lowered his gaze a tad to show emphasis on the last "question".
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin watches with his stalk eyes as a portion of the bar explodes behind him. He glances to the right with his main eyes and sees the long-haired humanoid roll off the back. He meets the being's eyes for a moment before he springs off into the forest. Ossanlin shakes his head and continues in the opposite direction. It is not his fight and he has no desire to help either being in truth. If anyone, he'd help this Rathien person over Salem, but they seem to have a personal grudge match in progress. Not the kind of conflict to stick one's tail into.
He veers towards the Mirage's location and trots at a somewhat stately pace so that Serid can keep up without rushing. <I would prefer you use a weapon appropriate to your station...you do not serve the Empire. If you must keep it in your possession, I would prefer you keep it concealed or stored. Your...situation... is unique. It will be difficult, you understand. It will be even more difficult for your peers to accept you if you walk around brandishing a Yeerk weapon.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ______________
~Rathien~
Rathien watches the aftermath, his weapon still leveled. The Draconian has emerged from the bar as well as another of the humans brandishing some sort of stable energy weapons. He senses movement, as he'd thought, Tobias had used some sort of projection coupled with his light-bending cape. Rathien kicks and rolls backward, the bar roof exploding out from under him. He pulls his cape around himself and the fabric combined with his flex-plate armor is able to deflect the sharp shards of wood. He drops off the back of the roof and lands on one leg in a crouch, He reholsters his weapon and glances over and noticing the large male Andalite from inside. He locks gazes for a moment before leaping off into the woods. After he's obscured by the treeline, he jumps up and swings into the branches, ascending to the treetops.
He sits on a canopy branch, shielded from the ground by branches and the thick foliage of the trees. He pulls out his medkit and removes a small vial of omni-cell. He loads it into his injector and unwraps the armor plate from his shin, pulling up his pant leg. He injects the omni-cell liquid into the center of the impact zone. It should be able to mend his hairline bone fractures in an hour, perhaps even more quickly since the multiple hairlines can be repaired simultaneously. He replaces his injector and medkit into its pouch and pulls the pant-leg back down, wrapping the flex-plate back into place. His breathing has stabilized after the short rest in the trees and he leans his head back against the trunk. A dull ache radiates from his injured leg as the omni-cell knits his bone back together.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _____________
~Raile~
Raile lands several feet away in a crouch lightsabers still in his hands, but still unignited. He watches as Garreth reacts to Rathien and tries to project that he himself is uninjured, merely wary and ready if the fight turns outwards.
-
Zoshonel remained on the roof. At least Rathien was not drawing Salem's fire towards the bar anymore. He considered just keeping his distance. If he went into the woods, he could wind up getting shot by accident.
Claxter waited to see if Slame would chace Rathien some more, or leave. he didn't want to go into the firest where his vision and movement would be impare.
-
Garreth senses the Ildari leave and extinguishes his sabers. He sees Raile and confirms the feelings broadcast by him. He shakes his head and sits back down at his table. He returns to his meal.
-
Al laughed. "I could tell him by waving my arms and yelling from here," he said to Parker, indicating Salem's vicinity with his hand. "That's not really the part of communicating I'm concerned about here."
He flinched as an exploded chunk of roof beam plowed into the dirt not five feet from where he was standing. With a brief glance skywards, he started walking back towards the bar. "Maybe I'll see if I can't liven this place up a bit," he muttered, half to himself and half to Parker. "A little entertainment might do everyone some good."
Salem watched closely for a second as Rathien made his way off the roof of the bar, but was distracted by a shot fired in his direction. He turned and glared at Parker as the soldier yelled something about the people in the bar. From what Salem had seen, the bar had nearly emptied, and it wasn't likely a few splinters would cause any real harm anyway.
So... was Parker actually in league with Rathien? It still seemed entirely likely.
Just a trigger-happy busybody, or in this for a reason? he thought. Not that it mattered. He'd take care of soldier and hunter both if it came to that.
When he looked back up at the roof of the bar, there was no sign of Rathien. He cursed and skated off in the direction the hunter had seemed to be moving, into the woods.
Salem moved as quietly as possible, keeping his cloak on so that he appeared as little more than a ripple, though occasionally the invisibility would falter and his face or hands would seem to ghost into existence for a second or two. He kept his weapon drawn and peered into the trees. He was beginning to understand just how much Rathien liked to position himself above his surroundings. He didn't know if the Ildari had fled back to his ship or back into the bar or if he might be watching from the trees above at that very moment, unseen and unheard. It was nerve-wracking, and exciting, though not in a good way.
For several minutes, he looked, but soon decided this was an exercise in futility. Trying to find a single being hiding in the forest would be hard enough even if it wasn't Rathien. He sighed and began to make his way back towards the bar. He soon smirked, however, and changed direction, moving steadily towards Rathien's ship.
-
As Tobias skated off, Parker stowed his shotgun. He followed the construct and replied, "Now what would be the point of yelling out, 'Tobias, draw him to the trap I set up,' when his enemy is in shouting distance as well? It would only cause their little battle to continue further."
He then replied to Al's second statement, "I think a period of non-violence would suffice to bring back the energy of this place." He stopped next to Zoshonel and asked, "So how've you been old friend?"
-
~Rathien~
Rathien leans his head back, listening for any sounds that would be out of the ordinary in a forest setting. Of course Tobias was good, he wouldn't make much sound, but then Rathien could hear a mouse fart out of turn. After several minutes of nothing but natural background noise, Rathien lifts his head and looks down around him. Of course his vision is obscured by the foliage as much as that of anyone trying to look up, and he sees nothing. Tobias had started this in the bar...somewhere he apparently cared something about. He wouldn't give up now, not after showing his cards. The tri's had been dealt, but the quarten and quintic were still to come, and neither would know who held the winning hand until the end. Tobias wouldn't leave before the deal was complete...not after laying so many chips on the table.
He flexes his leg which feels much better already. His hip still strains under the pressure, but nothing would help it more than moving, keeping it from stiffening up. His confusion settles in deeper...where was Tobias? Suddenly Rathien's liberated ARC sends a private thought-speech alarm to him. His ship's proximity detector... Rathien snarls and lifts himself to his feet, taking off through the canopy. Like it or not, Rathien's ship is his only way off this rock, not to mention all of the precious supplies it contains...he winces at the thought of his multi-phase rifle in the hands of that two-faced 'verse-hopper.
He glides deftly, silently, and easily from branch to branch, ghosting through the tree canopy toward his ship. He circles a bit wide to come at his landing point from a slightly unexpected direction and watches the ground for any glimpses of Tobias or his trail. Most likely the trap the Android lackey had set would be near his ship...Tobias has the technology to fool Rathien's proximity detector for at least a short while. The artificial abomination could've used that window to set up something nasty. He would have to take care near his ship. The fact that Tobias was not concealing himself from the detector meant the blade actually wanted Rathien to come. Despite knowing that, he has no choice in the matter. Given enough time, Tobias could and would hack into his ship, which is quite simply beyond unacceptable.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _______________
~Raile~
Raile watches as the fight moves elsewhere and shakes his head, placing both sabers back in their respective places. He steps through the door again, ignoring the gaping hole in the wall. He walks to the table Garreth is sitting at and motions to the BT to bring him another drink. "May I?" He asks, gesturing at a seat not quite across the table from his newfound companion.
-
"This place is not extremely likable to most sane people," Myitt replies to Tamora, fishing around in the storage room for what meager supplies they can afford to give to her. She pulls out a cardboard box, sniffs it, shrugs and starts tossing Kandrona generators and nutrient packets into it. Along with the Yeerkish necessities comes a pile of protein packets and a few vacuum sealed packs of freeze dried fruit.
She hauls the box back out into the cabin and shoves it into Tamora's hands. "Here. This should get you both by for a few months at least, if you ration intelligently."
-
Garreth nodded, wordlessly. The food was still in his mouth. After chewing well and swallowing, he said, "Of course, your company is always welcome. That certainly was a tense moment. You did well."
-
~Raile~
Raile sits down and glances over at the BT, who holds a tumbler of amber liquid up with an annoyed, expectant look. Raile frowns momentarily before reaching out through the Force to lift the tumbler from the BT's hand and waft it over to himself. The BT merely returns to dry-washing another empty tumbler as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred...for all the world looking as if he'd expected that exact result. Perhaps he had, unlikely as that was.
He nods to his companion. "Yes, a personal quarrel it seems. I'm not certain Master Slone would've involved himself as you did. You did not stop them...you could have restrained them with the Force." Raile takes a sip from his tumbler, wondering what his companions thought process had been.
-
"I understand, of course," Serid nods to Ossanlin as he keeps his pace to a mildly brisk walk. Glancing down at the Dracon at his hip, he is surprised to find himself reluctant to leave it, although the reason is certainly sound. Still, when he received this weapon, it was the time at which he had received Illim and been released from the eternal Imperial questioning and probing, allowed some degree of freedom and, astonishingly, friendship. Still, he tells himself firmly, that was an improvement in your situation, but this is one twice-over. At least you are among your own kind now.
Serid turns his gaze over to the War-Prince's face. "I thank you for your concern, sir." But is it truly an improvement? his doubting thoughts persist. "War-Prince, if I may ask," he continues, "do you anticipate having me spend most of my time with you on your ship, or will you give me special assignments offship, given my unique situation, as you have identified it?"
Illim lazily lists in the spinning chair back and forth as he watches Myitt sort through their supplies. He sighs and leans forward, propping elbows on knees. "So what are you two going to do, then? Look to start your own cozy group of rebels?" he raises his eyebrows, watching Tamora.
-
Garreth pauses a moment to finish chewing. After swallowing, he replies, "Though, in truth, Jedi have no jurisdictional boundaries, I feel as though this place is special. This place has different rules than worlds of our galaxy and universe. I felt that affecting the beings themselves would only anger them further and make me an enemy. I instead chose to diffuse their attacks so that innocents would not be harmed. It wasn't until I feared that the fight would not leave the bar that I thought of affecting the Ildari himself by throwing him out."
He takes a bite of a softer side dish, swallows easily and asks, "May I ask why you did not act at all? You are indeed a knight on your own. You have no master, least of all me. I am but a friend, a colleague. You could have taken control yourself. You did not need my permission to interfere? If you feel as though your master would have done more, why is it you did less?" The question asked was filled with pure curiosity. Raile could sense, through their link, that no negative or pointed emotions were in his feelings.
-
Tamora peers into the box, then looks up at Illim, shaking her head. "I don't...I don't know what Zorish wants," she says quietly. "This has all happened very quickly, and..." She bites her lip. "He'll have to think of something, if we're going to survive. I'm sure he will, though. He's very good at keeping me safe. Usually."
-
As Tobias skated off, Parker stowed his shotgun. He followed the construct and replied, "Now what would be the point of yelling out, 'Tobias, draw him to the trap I set up,' when his enemy is in shouting distance as well? It would only cause their little battle to continue further."
He then replied to Al's second statement, "I think a period of non-violence would suffice to bring back the energy of this place." He stopped next to Zoshonel and asked, "So how've you been old friend?"
"Oh, I've been well." Zoshonel said as he floated down fro the roof. "The celebration I left this place for was quite nice. The parties, food, gaes, and a few other things were all excellent. I don't think very many people believed me when I described this place, but that's all fine. Eventually home life got boring again, and I took off. How have you been?"
-
Parker nodded, following his story. He replied with a sigh, "Confused. I was stranded in Morgan's universe for a year before I could find my way back here. I get back, find Silver, and she spends her whole time away from me. Even now, she's off doing something else. When I first arrived, she seemed so elated that I was back; but then she just sort of floated away after that. Then as the bar usually does, it blew up and here we are. I'm not sure which was better; being lost with purpose, or having found my purpose and now being lost."
-
"I know what it feels like to lose someone you hoped would be with you always. We Draconeans don't mate for life, so we don't usually get too attached to a single person of the opposite gender. I'm not really familiar with the relationship ins and outs with people who do."
-
Parker nods, "Well, enough about that. How was it without me? What happened? Or were you gone through that period too?"
-
Al shrugged, "Non-violence would definitely help, but this place is hugely tense. Maybe a massage parlor...?" he lapsed into what seemed to be a thoughtful daze, but laughed and held out his hand as they reached Zoshonel. "Hey! Name's Al. Pleasure to meet you, my good... er..." he looked Zoshonel up and down, "fellow," he said with a good-natured grin. "What would you say if I opened a massage parlor over there?" he pointed to a mostly-open area near the bar, off the corner of the shipyard.
Salem quickly skated to within viewing distance of Rathien's ship. The woods he'd just come through contained the edges of the trap Al had set up. Skating through, he'd eyed the positioning of the 'illusors' and bombs in his glasses- a handy feature he'd managed to build in only recently. He'd been a bit disappointed to find that the 'explosives' Al had placed were merely grenades, rather than the high-explosives he'd been hoping for. Still, there was nothing for it now. Had to work with what he'd got.
The way he saw it, there were three ways this could go down. Knowing Rathien, the most likely seemed to be that the hunter would have some sort of alarm set up when his ship was approached, and would come right to him. That would be ideal, especially if the Ildari's cloak was indeed malfunctioning. Salem's cloak was far from perfect, but it was enough to give him the advantage this time around.
There was also a possibility of Rathien controlling the ship remotely. It didn't seem like Rathien, but then, the hunter had always managed to surprise him before. Better to be cautious. Salem chose a spot quite close to the ship's hull- it should be in a weapon blind spot, unless he'd missed something, but far enough away to avoid shielding and movement of the ship. At the very least he should have time to react if the ship started moving on its own.
The third possibility, and the one that Salem was secretly hoping for, was that Rathien wouldn't come at all. He smirked at the thought. That would essentially give him free reign to either attempt to hack into the ship, or to set up a booby-trap for the hunter. He was definitely more than equipped for either at the moment.
He hunkered low, and stayed as still as possible- less chance of being seen if he didn't move. He peered into the trees around him, hoping to spot Rathien coming before the hunter could see him. A strange tingling feeling reminded him that he did, in fact, have one more tool at his disposal.
He closed his eyes, and searched around him with the newfound sixth sense Mar had helped him find. It seemed he was getting better at controlling this feeling. He caught glimpses of the tendrils of darkness within darkness. If he could reach them... control them... this fight could be over before it'd begun. So much power to be had there. He reached out with his mind, stroking one of the tendrils as it brushed by him. His touch was more forceful than he'd intended, and the tendril danced away, wildly. Maybe he imagined it, but he thought he saw it twist and shudder; it should have looked painful or frightening, but the impression Salem took from it was one of pleasure. It danced back towards him, through the tendrils. It was as though it was beckoning to him...
Salem was shaken from his vision by a light cutting towards him. That must be Rathien's 'soul.' He still couldn't really tell how positions of things in his new sense corresponded to his other five, but it seemed as though Rathien was approaching from his left somewhere- just out of reach of the trap Salem had set. He cursed, silently, and gazed into the trees, hoping to glimpse the hunter.
-
"I think I left before you did. I may be wrong. It's been a while. When I left, Temrash was still here and still on speaking terms with Corliss. not to mention corliss still being here. Terenia was still around. That other woman looks like Terenia, but she wears Imperial clothes and smells different."
"Nice to meet you, Al. I'm a Draconean." He said while shaking Al's hand. "a massage parlor sounds interesting. My muscles can get sore if I get into any fights in the bar."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods at Serid, moving continuously towards the Mirage. He notes the Warrior's trepidation to be relieved of his Yeerk weapon. <Serid, you are a Warrior now, which means that you have some control over where you are stationed. You can submit requests for whichever duties you desire, and to serve with whomever you desire. Your requests can be denied of course, but you are allowed some freedom.> He scans the area continously with his stalk-eyes, nearing the Mirage.
<I had hoped you would choose to remain with me. I can make no progress on recovering your natural body if you are elsewhere. Of course I cannot promise anything either way, but Terenia's results are inspiring. Since you are truly an Andalite, it should not be as difficult to recover your base genetic code as I had thought. Of course we have all studied Andalite base-code genetics, no one touches the Escafil device without such generic knowledge, and I should have a species affinity to your true genome. Still, it will take time and effort on both our accounts. If, however, you do decided to serve elsewhere or in other manners, I will not be the one to deny your requests.> He glances at Serid with his main eyes as they reach the Mirage. He commands the hatch to open before speaking again.
<Right now you are my officer, Serid. Even if our species would ask you to perform special duties, I have a good amount of say-so in keeping you from assignments you may not enjoy. If you do leave my employ, I will lose nearly all of the power I currently have to keep you from being...used.> He stares at Serid's eyes for a moment before breaking eye-contact and continuing up the ramp. <I am not saying it would happen, it might not...but you know our people just as well as I. Most of our brothers and sisters are ruthless. I, on the other hand, am ruthless only when there is no other choice.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Rathien~
Rathien nears his ship's location, his proximity detector still emitting its warning. He hisses to himself as he reaches the small clearing where his ship is concealed, the metallic machine still fully cloaked. Tobias's capabilities were rather annoying, he knew of no other beings except perhaps the Andalites that could pierce his ship's veil, and they could only succeed with time and a relative idea of where the ship was in the first place.
He tries to remain back in the foliage somewhat, still up on a branch in the canopy, attempting to locate the "trader". Traitor seems more fitting, though he doesn't know of any true betrayals in Tobias's past. Still, it seems a fair wager to make. A soft breeze breathes through the clearing, one of the first hints of any kind of weather that Rathien has noticed on the little planetoid. He commands the ARC to bring up a ship readout and instructs the ship to transmit iits sensor readout, excluding his own position from the signal just in case Tobias tries to intercept it. The ARC projects its hologram readout in front of his left eye, showing an overview of the clearing. Using the orientation and shape of his ship as a reference point, he determines his own position on the map without it being highlighted. There is only one brightly-glowing signature on the readout. Rathien smiles to himself as he uses the data to triangulate Salem's exact location in reference to his ship. Arming the ship's thrusters or weapon systems would no doubt alert Tobias, and unfortunately Rathien doesn't have his multi=phasic rifle which still resides in the ship. The rifle would make this shot as easy as shooting the side of the bar at point-blank range. As it is...he is forced to try with his Entroper. Oh the weapon is certainly accurate, but it's very nature announces its presence much sooner than the projectile beam actually arrives. The delay is not enough to make any difference to most beings, but crafty Tobias is a different story.
He draws his Entroper and narrows the beam width to one-half a centimeter in diameter. He levels the weapon at the position where his ARC highlights as Tobias' location and fully charges its reservoir. He takes a deep breath and holds it, his aim unfaltering. He gently squeezes the trigger, a beam of molecular destabilization lancing off in Salem's direction at slightly less than the speed of light. His ARC displays no extra energy signals around him to indicate anything out of the ordinary.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ______________
~Raile~
Raile takes a sip of his drink, considering Garreth's observations about this planetoid. "I must admit there does seem to be a sort of...twisting...aro und this place. I've never felt anything like it. At least we can still sense the Force fully...not like Myrkr." He glances at Garreth's food before looking back up at his companion.
"You seemed to have things in hand...I didn't want to interfere." He pauses a moment before speaking again. "I never said my Master would've involved himself more fully...that is, it is not exactly what I said. Master Slone would more likely have decided that the conflict wasn't his and would've sought to avoid it. However, if he had decided to intervene, he would've done so with every resource at his disposal to achieve the desired result." He takes another sip from his tumbler, savoring the liquor before continuing. "It is simply foreign to me, I suppose due to my tutelage, to intervene partially, or in such a passive and indirect manner."
He chuckles a bit before speaking up again. "And I am indeed a Knight, you placed me back onto that path, but I still have so much to learn...and no one to teach me. Besides, it is not uncommon, at least in my time, for Master and former Apprentice turned Knight to continue to work together. The bond makes us more than the sum of our parts after all." He smiles before taking another swig, relaxing his forearms on the table and leaning back into the chair. "It seems an impossible task." He does not feel despair, not any more...longing perhaps, and a heavy burden of responsibility, but never despair again. "Even though we have known each other for such a short time, Garreth...I will miss you when we leave this place. I could wish we were from the same era, but I know the Force is not given to flights of fancy." He does experience a pang of sadness at the thought of losing this newfound friend, and allows that pang to travel along the bond so that Garreth knows the depth of his sincerity. No doubt Garreth would want to return to his own time, and rightfully so...but he can't help but harbor a small spark of hope that Garreth might decide to come with him instead. He had already dismissed the idea of himself traveling to Garreth's time with him...messing with the past could have dire results, and his own mission to rebuild the Jedi after the terrible purge of his time could not be thrown by the wayside. He keeps that spark of hope from traveling along the bond, it would be wrong of him even to ask Garreth to come with him, but he nurtures the spark in his own mind, something to hold on to.
-
Garreth nods, taking a swig of his Tarisian Ale and replies, "True, and were we in our galaxy and had the ability to call upon reinforcements in case I did happen to create enemies, I too would have; however, we are cut off from any help other than the Force. Though the Force is helpful here, these beings seem to have abilities that may have unpredictable results."
Garreth listens to Raile's mention of their inevitable departing, feels the genuine sadness transmitted, and replies, "It is indeed a difficult thing to face, losing a friend," he puts his arm around his new friend's shoulder and continues, "Though just as when a newly knighted Jedi is reassigned, you take the lessons and experiences of working with your previous partner and keep the memories and lessons within yourself. We keep them close to ourselves by utilizing what we have learned by our experiences with them." He stabs a piece of the steak before him and holds it up, "Take this for example, before meeting Justor Krell, I'd have never attempted to sample the cuisine in such a strange and random place; but he taught me that just because the environment is hostile at times, " he takes a bite and savors the flavor as he swallows, "doesn't mean the food is."
He smiles and gives the Jedi a comforting pat on the back before taking another bite, "Be it the Force, or this place itself that binds us here, I couldn't say; but I will say this: who's to say they'll let us go at all, or send us to where we left from?"
Parker nods, "No, that sounds about right to me as well. it seems we both lost touch around the same time. Did something happen between Corliss and Temrash? To be honest, I haven't even seen the guy lately. I figured he went on some assignment."
-
~Raile~
Raile nods a bit at Garreth's response. He himself was supposed to be beyond the point of overestimating his own abilities or underestimationg those of his enemies. Garreth had taken a wiser course, given the unknowns involved. Moderation.
He looks up at the other Jedi's good eye as he places an arm around him. Quite suddenly Raile is enveloped by a warm feeling...like gold or radiance...he is at first unsure of how to react. He remains serene, but his serenity seems to be wrapped in a thick blanket in front of a burner on a frigid winter night during a snowstorm. He had only felt this feeling rarely in his life. Master Slone was not generous with compliments, but gave them where due. The rarity had only increased their value, and every one earned from his old master had given him this same feeling. The spark in the back of his mind glows brightly.
"You're right of course." He smiles a bit and glances at the steak before returning the gesture, his arm finding its way around Garreth's shoulder. "You claim to be newly knighted, but I believe you to be the much wiser man, Garreth. Every person brings something new and there is wisdom in that. But I've always wondered...the Jedi of my time, we are encouraged to detach ourselves from anything we might fear to lose. I understand that loss of such a thing can lead to the Dark Side, but it would seem that a strong enough will could overcome that pain, with time. Perhaps we are...selling ourselves short. We are taught to be compassionate, but not to love. Why should we not be able to experience everything that life has to offer? It seems that keeping one's self away from the Dark Side by robbing one's self of the true passion of life is a bit like cheating." He shakes his head before returning his eyes to Garreth's. "Listen to me talking like I'm a wisened Master when I know so little...and just had a near brush with the Dark Side myself..." He chuckles ruefully.
"I hadn't considered never being able to leave. I...I must admit it has its attractions. The Galaxy I would return to is not exactly hospitable, and there's so much to do. Being held here against my will would give me an excuse. Not to mention we would both remain in the same temporal space." He smiles a bit wider...the feeling of the figurative blanket snugging around him a little tighter. "But...I cannot abandon my Galaxy. Not if I have a choice in the matter. The Jedi Order remains as long as I survive." He pauses again for a moment, his serenity wavering only a moment with mixed feelings before he locks it down again. "As for returning to a different place from whence we came...I must admit to you Garreth that the thought of you traveling with me to my time is...comforting. I would never ask it of you, I could not ask you to abandon everything, but I must admit a selfish desire for you to do just that. I apologize." Cool, calm, serene. He continues to meet Garreth's gaze and gives another little smile. He wasn't sure where this all was coming from...he'd never acted this way toward anyone before, not even his old Master.
-
"Something about Corliss falling for Terenia and becoming irrational. He left because he decided the rebels weren't worth it anymore if corliss was any indication on how they run their place. Hopefully it won't come back to bite him or the rebels in the end. I'm not sure where he is at the moment, or if he'll be coming back."
-
Parker nodded, "So Corliss found himself a girl, huh? Good for him. I suppose Terenia's a good a girl as any, a bit shorted in the emotional department; but being in her situation, who wouldn't be? So did she join their rebellion; or did she go back to her reluctant boss?"
Garreth shakes his head slightly, he looks at Raile with a twinge of pity, "There you go again, calling it 'loss' and 'pain'. You can't look at it as such, even with death. It's far too selfish of a concept; so is Love, for that matter. You take a person leaving your side as leaving you, abandoning you, hurting you. When most people love someone, you wish to make them yours. If someone is reassigned, or go on a journey you cannot follow, they aren't leaving you. You must think about that person's needs. They are continuing their path, expanding their knowledge, gaining further wisdom, growing. When two people, or a group for that matter, work together long enough, they conform to a pattern. One person takes care of these things, the others handle the other aspects. If you continue in that pattern for too long, you lose the ability to learn the aspects taken care of the others, and you never truly grow. You may become stronger in your fields; but you falter in the other. To grow evenly, you must go to different places, do different things, learn as many lessons as you can. When you've learned all you can, it would hinder the growth of yourself and your friends to stay.
"It's the same with death, 'There is no death, There is only the Force.' Those that leave this realm due to death are not truly dead. They rejoin the Force and are with us always. They too are with us in the things they've taught us, the memories of them, the gifts, debts, and even scars. They have a journey to continue within the Force, we don't know what that journey is, how could we; but Life doesn't end when we shed these bodies, be it forcefully or naturally.
"We are Jedi, servants and protectors of the galaxy. Think about that, 'the galaxy'. All of the galaxy, and we are its protectors. We don't have time for flights such as Love. We can love someone, surely; but to make your life center around one person and spend all your time with them? Give all your attention to them, and like-wise, take all their attention for yourself? How can you protect those in need if you're constantly pining for the attention of someone? You cut yourself off from everyone around you doing so. Who has been cheated then?
"To love someone is not discouraged per se; but to center your life around that person is. To make your whole life about that one individual. Humans love, aliens love, most sapient beings in the galaxy love; it is an emotion we cannot fully control. The key is to accept that love; but put it in its proper place. Our roles as Jedi come before all else."
Garreth listened to Raile's talk of a possible excuse and fulfilling his obligation to continue the Order. He smiles appreciatively, "I can certainly see the temptation of skipping a few thousand years to help re-establish the Jedi Order; but I am indeed needed. I'm sure by now The Jedi Council have received word of Revan's capture; so my role as messenger is no longer needed. However I am still a Jedi Knight, and my place, after all is said and done, is at my colleagues' sides." he looks around the bar, "However I still have a feeling as though I am needed here as well. I believe this to be one of those journeys one must take to further grow and gain knowledge. I will undoubtedly rejoin my fellow Jedi; however,for now, this is the place I am to be."
-
"Yeah she's in the rebellion. Kind of funny, but that's how life goes sometimes. I don't suppose I have strong feelings either way. I guess I'd like to have seen Temrash get in, but that's likely just bias since he's a friend of mine."
-
(reminder: Julian is like a Minotaur, but part horse instead)
Julian woke up suddenly under a free with no real recollection of how he got there. He guessed it was related to the amount of alcohol he had consumed. He took a deep breath and ran a hand over his short cut mane then scratched under his chin.
Slowly, with a hand against the tree, Julian made an attempt to stand up. By some miracle, he didn't go crashing back down. With one hoof in front of the other, Julian slowly walked back into the bar. He sat down in front of the bartender. For once he was glad this fellow didn't talk.
"Some water, if you'd be so kind. And you wouldn't happen to have something for a headache back there would you?"
As luck would have it, the bartender did. Julian showed his appreciation as he set is money down and swallowed the medication.
"Maybe some coffee as well."
-
"Well, good luck with that," Myitt says, waving a hand. "Just make friends with the Skrit Na, and keep away from Imperial scout cruisers, and you'll be fine." She shrugs. "I guess."
She glances at Illim. "Are we sticking around to watch more fireworks?" With a nod out the main viewscreens, she paces up to his chair and leans against its back.
-
Parker nodded, "Well good for her. How'd they go along with accepting a Yeerk with an unwilling host?"
-
"Ossanlin turned the girl Human again. As far as Temrash knows, Efaen made an agreement to not be infested, and with Terenia Human, she wouldn't be able to sneak into Efaen's head. Of course neither of us knows the situation now. I'd find it hard to believe they're doing worse over there."
-
Al listened to the conversation between Zoshonel and Parker with some interest, and little to add. Before long, he noticed the half-horse creature heading towards the bar, looking like he'd had entirely too much to drink.
"Parker, Draconian, would you excuse me for a bit?" he said with a smile.
He followed the strange alien to the bar and sat down next to him. He ordered a pint of a strong, rich, ale-like substance he was familiar with. A few moments later, the bartender set the heavy metal tankard on the bar in front of him with a dull thud. He took a sip, raised an eyebrow as he looked into the tankard, then shrugged and took another.
Still staring straight ahead, he spoke to Julian, "Hell of a day, eh?" Turning towards the man, he held out a hand and smiled, "Name's Al."
Salem continued to peer into the trees. Where was Rathien? Even knowing what direction the hunter was coming from, spotting him in this environment wasn't easy.
A bit of movement lit up a small area of his display briefly, and so slightly he wasn't even sure he'd seen it at all. When he looked closer, though, he could see... that was pretty clearly Rathien. Wait... that was pretty clearly Rathien already drawing a bead on him...
Salem dodged to the side at the last possible moment. The tiny, unsecured corner of his cloak that hung down caught the wind and flapped out beside him as he moved; the Entroper's shot managed to clip the very edge, causing part of the fabric to be torn and ripped apart in the resultant explosion. He was thrown headfirst to the ground, his head bouncing off a rock with a sickening crack.
Stunned, he did his best to roll and scramble to his feet, more out of instinct than any ongoing thought process. His ears were ringing and his head was spinning, and dust kicked up from where the entroper's shot had hit the ground behind him was making it difficult to breathe. He glanced down at the rock his head had struck and noted that it was a thin, flat rock, that had broken clean in two. He felt a dim satisfaction- better the rock than his skull. But... he could already feel a warm, wet trickle running down his scalp from the impact point. Wasn't there something else...?
Oh, right. Rathien. Rathien could see him. Maybe coming out into the woods here wasn't a good idea. Without people around, the hunter wouldn't hesitate to kill him.
The thought was enough to make Salem move. Unable to clearly see Rathien through his swimming vision, he fired two shots offhandedly towards the tree he'd been in. He activated his hover boots and began 'skating' backwards in the direction of his forest trap, somewhat less steadily than he should. Thanks to his damaged cloak, a brief flash of random color would occasionally emanate from his side.
-
"And maybe if you're lucky enough to find the supplies you need and avoid the Empire, we'll meet up here again," Illim shrugs to Tamora. Seems to happen more than you'd expect." He turns his gaze towards Myitt with a small smirk. "Isn't that right?"
He wanders over to her, lowering his voice a hair as he addresses her question. "I dunno, should we be getting home?"
"I understand, sir, and I appreciate your concern and willingness to shield me from unpleasantries... and worse," Serid murmurs, turning to follow Ossanlin up the ramp and into the ship.
"Please do not interpret my questions as ingratitude. This is what I want, War Prince: to be as useful as possible in this war. Of course I wish to have my body restored to me, not only so I might fit in among Andalite ranks again, but so that I can fight with natural weapons," he insists quietly, folding his hands behind his back as he stands straight-backed. "I suppose I am simply impatient. I have spent a long time among Yeerks, of which only one of which was sympathetic and helpful to our cause, and I wish to make up for lost years."
-
Myitt smiles at Illim. "Yeah," she says lightly, touching his arm. "This place can be as fortuitous as it can be dangerous."
She shrugs. "If they're all intent on shooting the place to hell, I'd rather we retired to someplace a bit, ah, safer."
-
Julian winced slightly at the sound of the thud. It would seem that headache stuff wasn't quite as fast acting as advertised. He finished sipping his coffee.
"Name's Julian," Julian said as he shook Al's hand "It's sure starting out as one hell of a day. With one hell of a headache. Can only imagine what Morgan would have to say."
Julian took another sip of his strong coffee. "So, Al, sure hope your day has been less confusing than mine."
-
Parker's head tilted to the side, "Ossanlin did? I knew he had some fancy enhancements when his fur goes silver; but restoring a person's body from a completely different genetic state is impressive. So if Efean was free; why did she end up in the rebellion as well?"
-
"Females aren't treated as equally as males on the Andalite homeworld, and she thought she'd be more useful with the rebels than with her own people. That's pretty essed up if you ask me, though on my world the gender relationships are opposites. female Draconeans are bigger than males, and any male dumb enough to push a feale around is likely to get mauled."
-
Tamora winces a little at the idea of more shooting. "I...I guess I should go, then..." she says, hefting the box and inching towards the hatch. She looks at Myitt over the top. "I don't know if I should be thanking you or not. You shot me, convinced my Yeerk to defect from the only place we've been guaranteed safety, made us outlaws with nowhere to go, and been part of both of our deaths in some other version of reality."
She scowls a little, looking very much like her sister. "Could you at least pass a message along for me, when you leave?"
-
Al smiled, "I wouldn't say 'confusing' so much as... well... obnoxious and dangerous. This place has a tendency towards blowing up, and sadly, I think I've been helping it lately."
He ****ed his head at Julian. He knew how rough it could be trying to function through a hangover, but it looked like Julian had something to help with the headache at least. A quiet conversation might help divert his mind for a bit until it really kicked in.
"So, you're with Morgan then? Family?" He smiled wryly, "You do look a bit like him."
-
"Not family, just old friends. We grew up together and went to the same university. I went into professional sword play and he decided to start a family and captain a ship. Sure hope he finds what he's looking for back home."
After another sip of coffee, Julian continued. "About the resemblance, there are a lot of folk like us in our 'verse. Called Myths by some. Unlike what Morgan and others were brainwashed to believe by the CG, we're not lab experiments. Just born different is all."
-
Myitt turns to Tamora, shrugging.
"Sure, kid. What's the message?" she asks, hooking her thumbs in her jeans pockets.
-
Tamora presses her lips together in a thin line, and for a moment it looks like she is going to say something cruel, but then her shoulders slump and she sighs.
"Tell Teresa that I miss her," she murmurs, looking down at the box rather than at Myitt.
-
Myitt swallows, nodding.
"Yeah, sure," she says softly, feeling an uncomfortable knot start to churn in her stomach. "I'll tell her."
She glances at Illim. "Come on, let's get the heck outta here," she says, all the bravado gone out of her.
-
With another sigh, Tamora turns away, mumbling another thank you, and makes her way down the ramp. She pauses when she reaches the gravel of the shipyard, glancing briefly behind her before turning her attention to finding her own ship, her own Yeerk, and whatever future they will be able to make for themselves as exiles from the Empire.
-
Parker replied, "If females aren't allowed the same freedoms, I'm surprised they let her join." He shrugged and nodded toward the rifle slung across Zoshonel's back, "So you get any better with that thing?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin trots up the ramp and turns to the small equipment room, not much more than a locker really, and commands the door to open using his security clearance. He softens his tone somewhat, perhaps it had been a bit too commanding. Some individuals responded better to a lighter touch.
<Serid, I do not believe you need shielding. If you are strong enough to withstand Imperial Yeerk captivity and remain sane, you are strong enough for nearly anything. I believe that strength could make a great Warrior in you, even a commander, though that is almost impossible without your natural form. You are an Andalite, but our people will see a human, no matter the mind. And if they can see the Andalite, they will see little more than someone to be pitied and mourned. A commander must have the full faith of his Warriors, and I am sorry to say that most of our people would not give their faith to someone with the appearance of a human.> He glances back at Serid with his main eyes, attempting a comforting look. He had grown so used to his calm mask of command that the look is somewhat difficult to muster, especially when speaking with one of his charges.
<I hope to remedy that situation, I truly do. But even if I cannot, and you meet or exceed my expectations of you, I will do everything within my power to add "Prince" to your resume. Of course this is merely circumspection...my expectations are difficult for many to meet, I merely think that your experiences might give you what it takes to meet them.> He smiles a bit with his eyes before turning them back to the weapons locker. He doesn't have many spare Shredders left...no one really understood why he traveled with so many. Of course if his Warriors knew what the bar was truly like, they would insist on a guard contingent amongst other things. He reaches in and takes out a handheld Shredder with its holster. He also removes a standard Andalite transponder and an ARC. He pulls a belt from one of his spare battle-harnesses and turns to Serid, proferring the belt and Shredder holster in one hand, and the ARC and transponder in the other.
<The Shredder is standard issue, so is the transponder, the ARC is a fairly new piece of equipment, it is a high-performance handheld computing device that has many uses, most of which are designed to make field-deployment more manageable and more efficient. You don't even need to remove it from its holder, it has a complete thought-speech interface. The ARC holder and transponder pocket have been slightly modified to fit the belt, but I do believe that actually makes it a tad more convenient given the current circumstances. The ARC does have a short-range communicator, but communications over significant distance, specifically those that make use of Z-Space, will require you to transmit and interpret through the transponder.>
Ossanlin suddenly looks up, as if looking through the wall of the ship, and his eyes tighten. A few seconds later, a rumble reaches his ears like that of distant thunder. That very distinct feeling had been some sort of space-time anomaly, he has little doubt. He files it away and turns his attention back to Serid. Whatever it had been had passed, still he decides he'd look into it later, Serid is who he needs to focus on right now.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ______________
~Rathien~
Rathien grimaces as Salem dodges and returns fire. He jumps down off the branch and springs forward into the clearing. He stops next to his ship before speaking in a conversational tone. "Tobias...." He scans the far forest-line. "Tobias, I tire of this little game. First I attempt peace in the bar out of respect and you throw it in my face, then I leave and you bait me by attacking my ship. When I come to stop you, you run. I don't enjoy hide-and-seek Tobias. I think it's time to change the game."
He pats the hatch of his ship affectionately before unlocking the secure system and opening it. He trots up the ramp unconcernedly and walks straight to his secured locker. He opens it and removes his precious multi-phasic rifle. He smiles to himself, caressing it gently, sweetly. Yes...this might fly in the face of Fate, but he would not allow Tobias to kill him for honoring a higher power. Tobias needed to die...and once the body was gone, he could destroy the ship...obliterate the Hope Drive...who could know what Thienal might do when he learned that the device of his ultimate suffering had been destroyed.
He shoulders his rifle and walks back down the ramp. Moving the ship now would be a tad pointless. Salem's vessel could track its movements. Its shielding was superior anyway, it could escape Tobias's ship if necessary. It had been in the past. He closes and secures the ramp and hatch. The indicator giving Salem's position blinks fitfully, his ship unable to compute a reliable location at this greater distance. He smiles...a smile with no mirth, a cruel smile, as he shoulders his rifle and aims it in Salem's general direction. Oh the heat beam wouldn't be much use, nor the disruptor, not without a precise target, and the sub-sonic and super-sonic slugs would be worse than useless...the light-shot however...
Rathien grins as the gun begins to emit a high-pitched whine, charging the physical slug with anti-protons...only a few, and a strong negative magnetic field. He sets his feet in a forward, wide stance and leans his body forward as well as he disarms the safety. A small red light blinks, letting Rathien know the projectile is ready to fire. He licks a fang as he silently squeezes the trigger.
A positive charge flings the projectile forward like a rail-gun and it passes the speed of light. All the ambient sound of the clearing seems to get sucked in, leaving nothing but a pure, perfect silence for a half a second before an ear-splitting explosion erupts...one loud enough certainly to be heard at the bar. Space-time twists around the projectile as it leaves the barrel and a huge gust of air sucks Rathien's long hair forward even as the recoil sends him leaping backwards to maintain his feet. As the fabric of space-time collapses back in behind the particulate remains of the slug, the force released is explosive and the projectile leaves a circular trail of decimated forest in its wake about ten feet in diameter, a magnetically contained, directionalized anti-matter explosion that is non-present one nano-second, and immediately present the next. The projectile would fully expend its energy by the time the curvature of the planetoid brought it into space.
The weapon's red light blinks and then glows steady in protest...it would be at least half an hour before the anti-matter light shot could be used again...anti-protons didn't grow on trees after all. He smiles again, now several feet behind where he had been standing when he fired. He raises his voice a bit, the sound of a few trees succumbing to the effects of gravity still echoing in the distance. "Oh Tobias....did you feel that one?" He switches the rifle to standard disruptor mode and looks around the clearing before walking toward the tree-line where Salem had been, the rifle's butt braced against his shoulder, ready to fire at the first glimmer of life. Perhaps that infernal AI hadn't set anything up after all...
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _______________
~Raile~
Raile removes his arm from Garreth's shoulder, suddenly feeling inappropriate. The other had engaged the physical contact in the first place, but perhaps it had merely been a gesture of comfort.
"It isn't as if I don't see the wisdom of what you say, Garreth...but some of my arguments still stand. I have known many people...not Jedi, true...but many people who have duties and obligations. People who have one person in their lives that means the world to them, and yet they still carry out their duties. Perhaps their duties aren't so grand as serving the entire Galaxy, but there are soldiers who serve entire worlds that still love and care for an individual special to them. They don't abandon their responsibilities, but they do not exclude themselves from this type of relationship either. By your argument, these people should not be able to exist as they do, and yet....they do."
He takes another sip of his drink before continuing. "I suppose I do not see the harm in relying upon someone else every once in a while. Simply because someone else can perform a duty does not mean you cannot be competent with it if the time comes. You certainly have a...worldly view Garreth, but it sounds as though you do not wish ever to rely upon anyone else...that you believe you must do everything and be everything by yourself. I suppose, when it comes to me, I would rather attain mastery in a few skills, rather than moderate proficiency in many and mastery in none."
He falls silent for a few moments as he feels another sort of odd twisting. He dismisses it as merely another eccentricity of this place before a deep bass rumble washes over the bar with a strange sort of doppler-effect. He frowns momentarily before returning his attentiont to Garreth. This place is decidedly odd.
-
Al smiled, "I honestly wouldn't know enough about your species to know what constitutes different. You seem like a pretty good guy to me, at least." He smirked, "Besides, with a name like 'The Myths' you sound like you could be a group of superheroes."
"So, professional swordplay. That sounds pretty impressive. I've dabbled in a few forms of sporting swordplay." He smiled sheepishly, "I'm not exactly championship class, but I can manage. What form do you practice?"
Salem rolled his eyes as Rathien spoke something about "tiring of this game" and whatnot. The hunter certainly did think highly of himself. He managed to make it to the treeline, finally thinking to look back as he ducked behind a tree. Through his swimming vision and what seemed to be the beginnings of a splitting headache, he could see Rathien heading into his ship. He frowned and shook his head. An opportunity? It looked like it. An opportunity for what, though? Maybe to shoot the hunter?
He drew his weapon and aimed in the direction of the ship, but it was too late- Rathien was already emerging, and with some sort of rifle Salem hadn't seen before. He gritted his teeth and began moving sideways, darting from tree to tree. Maybe he could get an unexpected angle on Rathien. His artificial adrenaline-like stimulant seemed to be wearing off- he couldn't afford that. Not now. The crash, coupled with the pain, would probably spell the end for him. He reached into a pocket and pulled out two small pill-like objects- a painkiller and the adrenaline-substitute. He pricked his finger on each one. The painkiller was full, but he'd already used the stimulant once- he'd be lucky if he got enough out of it this time to keep going. It wasn't really intended for multiple uses without a refill.
Suddenly, the world exploded into chaos around him. He'd been too caught up in his thoughts, and hadn't been paying attention- one second, he was hiding in the woods, and the next, it seemed the apocalypse had been called down around him. He was picked up by the air and the force of an explosion and flung effortlessly aside, wood shrapnel and noise turning the world around him into a disorienting blur. He couldn't tell which way was up, or whether he was moving or simply floating in space.
Until, that is, there was a tree. It came up quite suddenly, and seemed to swing out, like a fist determined to hit him. Frightened, he put his arms out to shield his face, but the tree wasn't swinging at his face. Instead, it rudely hit his legs just above the knees. He felt a blinding jolt of pain, and had a sensation of spinning through the air, and of other trees. One in particular seemed to jump up...
He must have briefly lost consciousness, because the next thing he knew, he was lying on the ground. He blinked and tried to roll to his feet, but his legs didn't seem to be working right. The left leg ached tremendously, but could take some weight, when he got up to his hands and knees. The right, however, shot pain through his whole body when he tried to use it, and sent him immediately onto his back on the forest floor again.
Broken, a part of his mind was saying. It seemed to be a voice... one he recognized... from long ago... Disadvantage. Take stock; what is the situation?
He looked around himself. The world seemed strangely silent, save for an intense buzzing in his ears. His cloak still seemed to be active; while he wasn't very mobile like this, he was, at least, mostly invisible. His 'glasses' had cracked at some point in the last few minutes, but they still seemed mostly functional; they showed several Illusors in the area around him. It seemed he was right in the midst of Al's trap. One Illusor appared to have been destroyed, but the rest should still function. His gun had somehow wound up tangled in his cloak. It looked okay, but there was no telling if the stabilizing blades had microfractures from the impacts they'd suffered. As they'd been extended, there was more chance of breaking. He could already feel some of the effects of the painkiller in his system, and he was glad of it. He could also feel a strange disconnectedness that he recognized as the onset of shock. He couldn't actually see his body to assess the damage done, but aside from his leg, nothing major seemed to be wrong, though he did hurt in more places than he could count. His internal nanomachines would have their work cut out for themselves repairing him this time. There seemed to be a large cavity through the trees off to his right- that had to have been made by Rathien's weapon.
And there, just to his left; it seemed fortune had favored him and dumped him within feet of a large tree with a hollow at the base. As quickly as he could, he squirmed his way inside, fighting down both the pain and the wave of nausea that followed as he moved.
Through the ringing in his ears, he heard Rathien call something. He couldn't make out all the words, but the tone was infuriatingly confident. Salem breathed in, deeply, and let it out, attempting to calm himself- difficult with the ****tail of adrenaline and chemicals flooding his system, and the pain threatening to cave his world in, and the darkness creeping into the edges of his vision, but somehow his mind found purchase. He could still end this now.
<<That's a fun little toy,>> he thought-spoke to Rathien, doing his best to echo the Ildari's calm, confident tone. He was surprised by how little his thought-speak voice seemed to waver. <<I think I'll take it.>>
He sent a thought-speak command to the nearby array of Illusors- activate, setting one. The devices began projecting partial holograms- ghosts and echoes and faded parts of images- into the woods. A quick hint of a person might appear to dart from one tree to another, or a flash of color or movement might appear at random, often quickly enough that Rathien might not be sure if he'd seen anything at all. Salem hadn't known what part of the EM spectrum Rathien would be watching, so he set them to cover the full range- for every one visible image, there would be another ten cast across the non-visible spectrum.
-
Julian chuckled. "It does sound like some sort of group name. Never thought of that."
Finally it seemed the pounding in Julian's head had subsided.
"It's not unlike the style that medieval knights used for tournaments, but really it all depends on the style of tournament. My grandfather decided to try and bring it back, and it caught on pretty fast. There are professional competitions held on several of the worlds now, and folks who make a decent living off of it. I go for the larger swords myself, not sure I could get my hand around anything smaller. Not comfortably anyway."
After a large gulp of coffee, Julian asked, "So, I imagine you do something for a living?"
-
~Rathien~
Rathien furroughs his brow as the cracking of branches and tree limbs quiets down. He stands next to the treeline, his rifle still shouldered, only his eyes scanning back and forth watching for movement. He smirks as he hears Salem's private thought-speech. "Odd that you reveal your continued life, Tobias. If you'd have stayed silent, I might've thought you dead. Certainly an advantage for you, unless of course you are unable to capitalize on said advantage...that would suggest you would not like me to find you...perhaps you took a bit more damage than your tone implies...in which case I don't believe you'll be taking anything."
His peripheral vision catches a flicker of movement, and then another. He swivels his rifle around and lets loose a disruptor bolt. It crackles through the air, punching through a tree, but does not cause explosions like the Entroper. The bolt is intense enough that it continues to cut its way through the forest for quite a long distance before finally losing its cohesion. Another flash in another direction, he levels the weapon and fires again. "Up to your old tricks again, Tobias?" Another flicker, another disruptor bolt carving perfectly cylindrical holes through anything in its way.
He makes a disgusted sound as he attempts to filter out the distracting flickers. The ship's proximity scanners had lost Tobias's true signal. Rathien slowly backs away from the treeline...he doesn't particularly like the situation. "Why not just give up, Tobias? I can take away your pain, love." He smiles a little, still backing away slowly, the rifle scanning along with his eyes. The thought of Tobias getting his grubby little hands on Rathien's precious multi-phasic baby curdles in his head The rifle wouldn't be as much use in the relatively-close quarters of the forest...it would hinder his ability to move and evade without providing enough advantage. If his thoughts are correct and Tobias is indeed injured, he should have enough time to stow the rifle again and begin stalking Tobias in a less-revealing manner. "Always with the hide-and-seek..." With one last glance he turns around and opens the hatch of his ship quickly, locking the rifle away in its secure, concealed locker again before re-encrypting the entire ship and locking it down again, shields ready to activate at a moment's notice.
He walks back toward the treeline with the flickering images, drawing his Entroper and widening the beam a bit to achieve a greater dispersal pattern. He leaps up into the tree branches again and starts looking around for hints of Tobias, trying to filter out the holo images....the main problem with filtering them out would be that any one of them might actually turn out to be Tobias. But if he is injured, that scenario seems unlikely. He starts looking for tracks or marks non-parallel with and non-perpendicular to the light shot's blast radius.
-
Garreth looks off into the distance as Raile goes quiet. He mentions, "I too felt that." As the boom sounds, he comments, "It seems their fight has yet to resolve itself." Garreth shakes his head and resumes his conversation.
Garreth sighs slightly through his nose, this may be a discussion that never ends, but it would be rude to dismiss it. He replies, "Those individuals, as you say, are based on a planet. There are groups based in cities in which they stay. They are rooted. We Jedi are not. We travel across the entire Galaxy, sometimes never seeing the same planet twice. We have assignments that take months, some assignments are complete relocations that span years. How fair would it be for a family to be away that long? How fair would it be to constantly move that family? Uproot them constantly from their friends and neighbors to meet new ones; or to never have any for the rest of their lives?
"Another aspect of those you mention: they have shifts of duty. They leave the job and go home. What they do is not who they are. We Jedi are different. We train from infancy to become Jedi. We are Jedi. Jedi is not a job, or a hobby; Jedi is what encompasses our very existence.
"Then there's the issue of the emotional aspect of caring for such a family. Should you trail a Sith, or attack a Sith; and this Sith finds your family. How clearly would you think? How cautiously would you act? From my experiences, guards and soldiers whose families are threatened leave their post, abandon their duty, and rush headlong into danger without thinking twice. Now say that were a Jedi. A Jedi charges toward his family without thinking, crashes into his home and finds them all dead. The emotion poured from that individual not only in that moment, but from the very moment they found their family was in danger, would be immense. The risk of turning from there is just too great.
"See, for a Jedi, a family may sound tempting; but it would be too much of a burden on all parties. Going back to your example, how many of those families are happy ones? How many families of guards, soldiers, and peace keepers are torn because they see too little of that individual? How many families feel ignored because that person's job tears them away so many times? How many children resent their fathers or mothers because they were always away? Then there's the individual that is always away. Always torn between job and family. They're doing their job, yes, but part of their mind is always at home. Worried about how they feel about them being away so long. Then the guilt of having an unhappy family, and the guilt of not being 100% there for their comrades. It's a never ending spiral fraught with intense emotions. That is something a Jedi cannot have in his life."
Garreth takes a drink to break the conversation a moment and moves onward, "I don't believe that everything must be done by only one person. I'm not saying that. I'm saying that you should not rely on one single person for too long. Making that one single person the focal point of your existence. A Jedi relies on his comrades, surely. I rely on all of those I work with. Though I often work with many different people. As I said, Jedi are often reassigned. They are sent elsewhere and then work with other groups, or other people. You then learn to rely on those people; but do not become dependent on them. Another point is that, yes, sometimes a Jedi is sent on assignment alone. Sometimes a Jedi will rarely work with a team. You never know what your assignment will be. If you've relied on others too much for certain aspects of your ability; then when you are alone, that deficiency could mean your life.
"My point is dependency. Rely on others, don't become dependent on them. Stand alone, but work well with others."
Garreth puts his arm back on Raile's back and says with resolution, "Be mindful, not only of your emotions, but also what can affect them."
-
~Raile~
Raile listens attentively for Garreth to finish before replying. "I do not see the two as mutually exclusive, I suppose we will merely have to agree upon disagreement. But let me try another tack...I do not know the situation from your time aside from vague historical accounts, but during my time, the number of Jedi was reducing even before the recent...events. Now it's more important than ever. We know that knowledge of the Force comes from unique biological sources. It doesn't seem too far a leap to assume that genetic heredity plays a part in Force sensativity. It would also explain why the numbers of Jedi were declining...so few ever have children. Would it not be our duty to reproduce in the interest of our Order? Especially in my situation, when we've lost so many..."
-
Illim remains still, watching Tamora go. When she disappears from sight, he looks over at Myitt with a heavy sigh. "What's with that family, huh?" he blurts, throwing up his hands. "Always so damned depressed all the time. They need to liven up. I mean, at least Terenia isn't so jumpy, but really. Life'd be better for those two with a... I dunno, emergency mixed drink or something."
He shakes his head, spinning around to face the console. "Honestly, I don't really know why we keep coming here. There's always some trouble or another. Though... I'm glad you came here the day we met," he adds, voice softening at the end.
Serid remains still and straight-backed through his War-Prince's entire speech, although his mind is anything but quiet.
It startles the Andalite nothlit that Ossanlin finds him sane. Certainly he has maintained his understanding of social norms and is capable of sounding perfectly sane... until, of course, one hears him speak kindly of Illim or hatefully of a past commander. The fact that Ossanlin does not seem to mind his new charge's heretical opinions is heartening in a sense, although perhaps just as disturbingly a sign of the War Prince's own insanity.
When Ossanlin mentions even the possibility of Serid becoming a Prince under his command, however, the dark-skinned man cannot prevent his eyes from widening in shock. Perhaps he truly is mad, he thinks. I had been branded someone with little promise. It is why I was sent on that terrible mission. And now... a Prince?
Reaching out to accept the four offered items, Serid takes his time in outfitting himself, sliding the Shredder into the holster and fitting the ARC and transponder to the belt for easy accessibility.
"Thank you for the equipment, sir," he murmurs, inclining his head respectfully. "And... I wish to thank you furthermore for your confidence in me. I am not sure what I have done to deserve such treatment, but I am grateful that you are giving me the opportunity to prove myself. I regret that you are truly the first commander who has." He straightens his back, watching Ossanlin's main eyes with his own two. "I will do my utmost to exceed your expectations, War Prince."
-
Myitt smiles faintly at Illim's words, although her thoughts are distracted.
"Yeah," she sighs, leaning forward against the back of Illim's chair, resting her arms above his head. Unintentionally her fingers touch his hair, and she runs a few fingers through it playfully. "Sometimes good things do actually come outta this place."
She glances over at the empty hatchway. "Gives me the crawling horrors, the idea of a dead person telling her sister she misses her," she mutters under her breath.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin watches the expressions cross Serid's face, especially at the mention of "Prince." He reconsiders the situation again. Perhaps there was a difference, perhaps a key one, between himself and Serid. <It is what I expect, Serid. And I will not proffer any special treatment. I will expect you to fulfill the roll of a Warrior to its fullest extent. You will have difficulties that most will not, and you will have to find a way to overcome them.>
He regards the Warrior with his main eyes for a moment before speaking again. <Serid...I had thought you shared my thoughts and opinions of Yeerks given your experiences. Perhaps I was wrong. Allow me to explain my opinions more fully. You see Serid, long ago I was taught to judge individuals by their actions. I still believe that this is the correct way. I do not condemn Yeerks for being something they cannot help being. They are what they are. My war is not with the Yeerks...our war, that of our entire species, is not with the Yeerks...it is with the Yeerk Empire. The Emprie is run by a small group of power-hugry, tyrannical, greedy dictators that squabble as much amongst themselves as with anyone else. Those who believe in the ideals of the Empire are the ones we should condemn. Many Yeerks do not support the war as you well know. Many even sympathize with the hosts who are pressed into service against their will. These Yeerks can help us, they have helped us, in our struggle to topple the Empire. Genocide is never the answer, and it is certainly not the answer here. Once the Empire is gone, there are ways of keeping something like it from redeveloping. I have worked in tandem with the Yeerk Rebellion on more than one occasion, Serid. The Electorate knows and tolerates my involvement with them. Support is another matter, but tolerance is a good stepping stone at least.>
He pauses, allowing the Warrior to absorb the information, before continuing. <I did not mean to get your hopes up Serid, I hope my words were not misconstrued. Becoming a Prince is a long and arduous task for most. I fear I cannot give you advice from personal experiences...a very unlikely series of events coupled with an exceptional head-start allowed me to attain rank very young, but every Warrior I have ever promoted to the rank earned it arduously, and the few I've promoted to Prince have earned their rank ten times over again since receiving it. I merely meant to put your mind at ease. I, at least, will not treat you any differently because of your circumstances. You will have as much chance as any other under my command. But to have withstood what you had to go through, Serid...that gives you something the others don't have...determinatio n, tenacity, willpower...hardshi p. You never gave up, if you had, you wouldn't be here now. You have a greater potential than most, if you put that experience and tenacity to use, to earn rank. As I said, it is what I expect, and I have no doubt that you will indeed fulfill my expectations.>
He shuts and secures the equipment lockers, scanning his stalk eyes around the Mirage before returning his full attention to Serid. <Do you have any questions, Warrior?>
-
Al chuckled, "Not if I can help it." He sighed, "I know it doesn't sound good to say I don't do anything for a living, but I never really have. Where I'm from, I was a part of Furka. My only real goal was to have fun, and to help others have fun. You'd be amazed at how well that can pay." His eyes twinkled as he laughed, "And more recently, I've been traveling with Salem. He tends to take care of the logistics of things. I help when I can, but it's mostly his show." He smirked, "Of course, the fact that I don't need to eat doesn't hurt anything either."
He ****ed his head at Julian. Something he'd said... "Medieval...? You are human!" he exclaimed after a moment. "Oh, man, that sounds fun. Big swords are awesome. You look like you'd have better control than I do with 'em. I'm best with a Paladinian short sword that's used..." he paused to think, "sort of like a cross between a scimitar and a rapier. It's a little like fencing, but with more emphasis on dodging than thrusting or parrying."
Salem concentrated on steadying his breathing and calming his mind as Rathien spoke, only half listening to the words. The hunter had guessed that Salem might be injured. It shouldn't matter much.
Then Rathien was firing without regard for actually hitting anything. He heard the sound of a shot going through a tree near him- it left a clean hole. So... an extremely directional energy weapon or a high-velocity matter-based slug, probably. Neither explained the force that had rocked the forest moments ago.
He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as his leg shot another wave of pain through his body. This one seemed more distant than the last... he gritted his teeth and pressed his eyes shut. When the pain subsided enough for him to breathe again, he felt strangely cold, and very weak. He didn't open his eyes. Was that blood running down the inside of his right leg? No way to tell for sure through all the pain...
There! He could sense Rathien, almost without meaning to. It seemed he could tell that the 'soul' he was sensing belonged to the Ildari, though how he knew that, he couldn't say. It was... moving away? No! Not after all this! But wait... he was moving closer again.
Salem grinned, in spite of himself. The hunter was going to continue to play this game. He whispered a line from a play to himself in the Atazin galactic language; the strangely lyrical words translated roughly to "Hubris, will you dine with me once more?"
Salem waited until Rathien seemed to be fairly close, then sent a command to the Illusors: <<Activate, setting two, level two.>> He indicated Rathien as the target and his two grenades placed in the woods as locations. The Illusors began to change their imagery slightly. Now, in addition to the random images, they'd be projecting enough images that a pattern should seem to emerge from Rathien's vantage point. Salem hoped that "setting two" was low enough that Rathien wouldn't have enough information to analyze the pattern, but high enough that he should pick up on it.
Setting two was remarkably low; he was giving the hunter's tracking ability a large amount of credit by assuming he'd even notice. Essentially, the Illusors would attempt to give the hunter the impression that Salem was moving towards or located near the two bombs. They'd display quick flashes of movement, progressively closer to that spot; perhaps a face or a set of eyes peeking from behind a tree; a puff of dust possibly kicked up by a shoe... all while the woods around Rathien continued to flicker with images.
The closest bomb was nearly a hundred yards away; the other, more than twice that. If Rathien took the bait, Salem hoped he'd be able to trigger them with proper timing.
-
Garreth nodded passively, he relented, "I understand your situation is special; and without the benefit of having the Republic screening processes, finding Force-sensitives will be more difficult. Though I'm sure this Sith Lord will keep the same process open to eliminate or control new Force users. You could implant a spy in his organization that could alert you when they find one; and possibly rebuild that way. We are talking about the entire galaxy after all. Though to stay out of the Sith's spotlight; it could be easier to find a world in the Outer Rim and start a new community where you attempt to breed Force users. The problem with that is that children of Jedi are not guaranteed to be Force-sensitive. You'll then have to deal with sibling rivalries, which involve intense emotions; and that could end up producing more Sith."
Garreth thinks for a moment and shakes his head, "No, there's a reason children are separated from their families before training them. A Force-sensitive family just wouldn't be a good idea. No matter the condition; the risk is too great."
-
~Rathien~
Rathien leaps through the trees, carefully looking for signs. He notices a more solid-seeming figure diving between trees and levels his Entroper, firing a shot. Dirt and wood explodes outwards from the point of impact. He chases after the figure through the tree branches for a good fifty yards before stopping suddenly. He looks around the forest, images still flashing and flickering. What he'd suddenly noticed was the lack of trail beng left by the glimpses he was following. An individual running that quickly and carelessly would leave a trail of broken plants and scuff marks at the very least. Rathien cannot determine any type of descernible trail, and another thought occurs to him...he had all but decided that the AI had not set a trap at all...this impression was acting as a lure, drawing him forward. He stays perched on his branch and mentally chastises himself. Of course Tobias would lead him into the trap he'd lulled Rathien into believing did not exist.
He takes a deep breath and begins analyzing the ground...finding a real trail would be difficult with all the random shrapnel and damage caused by the light-shot, but he cannot continue to chase illusions. "Tobias....I know you can hear me Tobias. Your illusions are rather faithful, I believed them for a time...this is what your abiological lackey set up isn't it? Was I running toward a nasty surprise?"
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _____________
~Raile~
Raile raises his glass and takes a long swallow instead of merely a sip, and falls silent. Garreth did not seem to think it possible...perhaps then it was not. "But is it truly wrong to want at least one person to remember you and mourn and honor your passing?" The mutter is quiet, only under his breath, and is nothing more than a voicing of his inner monologue. He doesn't even realize he's said it out loud...perhaps a side-effect of the strong liquor.
-
Garreth shook his head very slightly, at hearing the words spoke by his friend. It seemed he did not value himself enough to believe that only a loved one would care enough about his well being. Garreth felt a great sadness filled with pity. This Jedi had placed too much importance on others' views of himself. Garreth asked, "If you don't mind me asking, how were your trials handled? Where did they take place?"
-
Tamora crunches across the gravel to her ship, thankfully avoiding more life threatening situations. When she reaches the exterior hatch she calls out in one of the few Yeerkish words she knows without Zorish's help and the hatch melts open, ramp extending. With one last look around her, she hefts the box and trudges up the ramp, sealing herself in.
Dropping the box on the floor she makes her way over to the portable pool, peering over the lip to ensure that Zorish is still there, still safe.
"I missed you," she breathes, dipping a hand into the pool liquid and lifting him to her ear.
-
Julian nodded. "Yep. I'm from a 'verse where people have spread out to other worlds. Believe it or not, both my folks were human as anyone. Doc figured one or both of them carried the Myth gene. My father said soon as he saw me he knew I belonged in those tournaments, started training mr as soon as I could lift a small sword."
-
Salem laughed lightly when he heard Rathien call out. He was impressed that Rathien had realized he wasn't following a real person, but the hunter still didn't know what he was getting himself into. Salem could just see him, standing on a tree branch some distance away. It was almost too perfect.
His chuckle turned into a cough, which he quickly stifled. When he pulled his hand away, he had a brief glimpse of it before it went invisible again- it looked like he'd been coughing up blood. Great. He pressed his eyes shut and leaned his head back against the wood of the tree. He tried to steady his breathing once again.
Without responding, he reached into the utility belt he was wearing and drew out a bright orange cylinder. After an awkward moment of trying to move towards the opening of his little hollow, he settled for flopping onto his side, half in and half out of the tree. He drew his grav-pistol, and with a grunt, heaved the cylinder into the air. He held up his gun, aiming at it as best as he could, its stabilizing blades snapping into resting position along the barrel of the weapon as he did so. When the cylinder reached the top of its trajectory, he fired, sending out a short-range pulse of antigravity, which picked up the cylinder and hurled it in Rathien's direction in a high arc, as if it'd been thrown by a Vam-Chi warrior.
With any luck, the cylinder would fly relatively near Rathien- though he could already tell that his awkward angle had affected his accuracy. It shouldn't matter much. He hoped the distractions from the Illusors would keep Rathien from seeing the cylinder too early- but then, it was a bright orange cylinder flying through the air.
Salem watched it closely. Once it'd reached what, from his vantage point, he judged to be its closest point to Rathien, he sent a thought-speak command, detonating it. Rather than giving off heat and shrapnel, it instead exploded with a deafening bang and a blinding flash of light.
For a moment, he was blind- his 'glasses' had prevented the flash from affecting his eyes directly, but it had managed to temporarily white-out a large portion of his display. He tore them off his face and, gritting his teeth and steeling himself, pulled himself back upright inside the hollow of the tree, letting out no more than a soft whimper as his leg screamed in protest, his glasses clutched in his hand.
Al grinned, "That's really cool, actually. You've certainly got the build for it." He looked quizzically at Julian, "That myth gene... is that a common thing? It strikes me as something I'd like to try out at some point. What exactly does it do?" He smiled, "I mean, aside from the awesome and obvious."
-
"No one's really sure exactly, there are still studies to figure it out. Been around for a while though...Myths first started showing up after folk started expanding to other worlds. There's a group of folk who use that for their campaign about how we should have stayed in our place. Not a popular group. There are some who think it's a side effect of some sort to medical experiments or gene experiments. Morgan, poor guy, got into trouble with a radical group trying to prove the government was behind it all. Something about undermining the purity of humanity or some nonsense. With Andromeda and a few others they did prove that non-Myths could be altered into Myths. As for how many of us there are, we're in the minority, but there's still a fair number of us."
Julian finished off his coffee and made a signal at the bartender for some more. Julian scratched under his chin in thought.
"Not sure if that made much sense. In the tournaments, my father gave me the nickname Chess, cuz of the part horse thing. Was born with a tail, but that got to be a nuisance so once I was able I got it surgically removed. Seemed to be a popular change for the lady fans."
-
It takes Zorish a few moments to crawl into Tamora's head and seize control. When he does, he immediately pours over her memories of the past few hours without him. His anger spikes when he witnesses the battle that broke out.
<<This is why I should not leave you,>> he says, pulling Tamora to her feet and over to the main computer console. <<You're going to get yourself killed on your own. Especially depending on those rebels.>>
<<Those rebels gave us enough supplies for a year,>> Tamora points out, not mentioning how relieved she is to be back in the passenger seat.
<<Yeah.>> Zorish glances over to the box, then back at the holoscreen. <<After tricking us into a life of exile.>> With a sigh of exasperation he enters the command that allows the engines to thrum to life.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien looks around, trying to distinguish reality from illusion...trying to locate tracks. He sees atypical movement a ways behind him and readies himself to spring in that direction when he spots a strange orange blur flying through the air. His vision resolves it into a cylinder of some sort, hurling vaguely in his direction. The cylinder glances off a branch and bounces straight at him.
Rathien bares his fangs and dives off the branch he'd been on toward the forest floor right before a blinding flash and ear-splitting crack detonate right behind him. Even the reflection from the plants around him is enough to turn his vision white and then purple. His ears go numb just as he loses his vision to the light, and he hurtles into the ground, rolling haphazardly unable to control his fall pristinely. It had been a hard jump in the first place, an effort to get out of the way of whatever the cylinder had been, but without vision or audition, he couldn't know where he was in relation to the ground. He kicks awkwardly in an effot to flip out of the roll, but his toe catches on a root or a sapling or something and he careers sideways, his lungs suddenly burning as the tree his chest slams into drives the air from them.
Rathien's fangs are bared as he tries futilely to suck air back into his lungs. After what seems like an eternity, his lungs balloon open and he feels the blessed sweetness of oxygen returning to his bloodstream. He spasms on the forest floor, finally collapsing into a semi-fetal heap. He doesn't have any liquid sensation in his ears, so at least his ear drums had not ruptured. His vision begins to return, but nothing more than blurry images, lights and shadows. He gropes at his waist for his Entroper before realizing it had been in his hands. It had been wrenched free somewhere along the line. He immediately commands his ARC to locate the weapon's unique molecular composition. A light immediately begins flashing on his visual output, the holo-emitter still miraculously intact, and he gropes, trying to get to his feet before tripping and stumbling. He crawls on hands and knees, throwing himself on the glowing dot. His arms writhe underneath him as he works to pull the weapon out of the underbrush, desperate to have it in his hands at least, even if he can only see vague shapes and hear nothing but muffled white and brown noises.
With Rathien's vision so blurred, he has no hope of knowing which images are illusion and which real. For the first time in quite a long time, he feels fear. Losing the Dream, that holds no fear for him. Everyone eventually lost the Dream. The thoughts...the ideas of what Tobias might do with him if the "trader" caught him alive, those are the sources of his fear.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ______________
~Raile~
Raile looks up from the table and glances into Garreth's eyes before taking another long drink of his whiskey. He sits silent for some time before finally speaking up. "My trials...they were in the field. I don't know how much I can tell you without imparting knowledge you do not want. Felucia is an unpleasant place. To fight a battle there is horror. My Master and I were assigned to that wretched planet as Republic Generals. To us...those of us that were there, the battle was known as Kway Teow three. To the rest of the Republic, it was just another battle that no one paid attention to or cared about. Master Slone was charged with the Capital's Primary Outpost defense, Outpost three was thought to be a secondary target at most. We were wrong. The droids came at us hard...there were so many. I fought alongside my Clone troops until a man, or rather an Anzati as I soon found out, appeared with a crimson lightsaber."
He shakes his head, taking another long pull from his tumbler. "The world around me seemed to vanish, it was him and I...nothing else. It didn't even occur to me to think about where he'd come from or why. He defeated me...or near as such that it doesn't matter. He could've killed me...likely should've killed me, but he wanted to dine on me you see. He hovered over me...probosci ready to achieve their purpose...he thought I was unconscious." Raile pulls opens his gi and pulls back from Garreth a bit, indicating that Garreth should look down. An angry red, perfectly round scar is easily visible on the right side of his lower abdomen. "He thought I was disarmed as well. I had my saber hidden behind my back. As he knelt over me, I ignited it. It was the most blinding pain I've ever felt, but whereas the blade pierced me non-vitally, the angle of it carried the blade through his chest. Despite the blinding pain, I felt satisfaction...almo st happiness. A sort of contentedness as well."
Raile covers himself again, still not meeting Garreth's eyes. "He screamed, the look on his face was somewhere between indignation and disbelief. He sprang off me and ran into the mushrooms. I couldn't even move aside from extinguishing my lightsaber, let alone give chase. It should've been a lethal blow, but he was Anzati. To this day I still do not know whether he lived or died." He finally looks up at Garreth. "The Council and my Master both thought that the battle and my acts constituted trial enough. The Order was desperate after all. Not enough Jedi to do what needed to be done. The Council conferred the level of Jedi Knight upon me once I was well enough to stand before them... that was all."
-
Garreth nodded his head, "I see. You're very lucky to say the least." So this Jedi too was improperly tested. The fact that Garreth's tests were decided on the battlefield worried himself whether he truly deserved his rank. Though he knew what he went through, and knew the lessons he learned were truly sufficient. This Jedi though, he wasn't certain that he shouldn't have been tested further; but as he stated, there was no chance. He'll just have to learn those lessons as he grows. Though he seems very resistant to learn what he doesn't like to hear. Garreth keeps his doubts and thoughts to himself, giving off only empathetic and joyful emotions to be read.
-
<<You realize they've ruined us, right?>> Zorish asks lowly as the ship slowly lifts off. <<They kill us in one timeline, exile us in another. It is as if they are trying to ensure our misery.>>
<<Is it that terrible to admit that you care about me?>> Tamora responds. <<I care about you. You know this. You can see it so easily. Don't I deserve the same?>>
Zorish is silent for a long while, flying the ship in slow circles above the bar, higher and higher.
<<I suppose,>> he finally says, <<that is the one advantage of all this.>> A small smile appears on their shared face. <<I do care about you, Tamora. Very dearly.>>
With that, he aims the ship skyward and disappears amongst the stars.
-
Al rolled his eyes, "There'll always be new things, and there'll always be people around to protest them. Even if those things are badass half-animals."
He glanced towards where Julian's tail would once have been at it's mention, then smiled at his face, "So to you the tail just got in the way?" He laughed, "That's understandable, I guess. Not a tail expert myself. I've always wanted to see what a tail'd be like. Do you mind?" Without waiting for an answer, he clenched his face, and with a theatrical grunt, sprouted a tail- it seemed to shoot out of his backside and then hung down the back of the stool. It was a horse-tail, maybe half the size of an actual horse tail, and a combination of light and dark brown.
He looked over his shoulder at it, swishing it idly, then darted a quick glance at Julian. "Awright," he said with a grin.
Salem sat for only a moment before moving again. First he stuck his display glasses on the top of his head. He then leaned forward, gritting his teeth and trying not to move his right leg. He pulled up his cloak and right pant-leg and unstrapped a weapon, slowly, gingerly. The weapon looked a little like a poor imitation of a small submachine gun made of copper pipe. Once it finally came free of its straps, he leaned back, breathing more heavily than he should for such a simple action. He re-holstered his grav-pistol and struggled into a position closer to the opening of his little hollow, his leg screaming in pain. He'd deal with it later, he thought through the pounding in his head. For now, he had to move. if he had stunned Rathien, it wouldn't last long.
Still holding the copper 'gun' he drew a breath. He reached up and grabbed both sides of the opening, and drew himself shakily into a standing position using his arms almost exclusively. He stood for a moment, holding tightly to the tree as his vision went momentarily dark. When it passed, he was left feeling lightheaded and dizzy. Glancing down at the weapon in his hand, he noticed blood dripping from the barely-visible tip of the gun. That was odd. Guns didn't usually bleed. He'd have to look at it later.
Shaking his head, he snapped his glasses back onto his face- they were displaying again, only a strange discolored splotch appearing where his grenade had exploded. He could see no sign of Rathien. Probably not good.
He activated his left hover boot and pushed himself towards a nearby sapling, and an angle that looked like it might give him a better view through the foliage. He was right- he could just see a figure struggling with something, and some kind of blinking display. The distance was maybe fifty yards, through foliage, and Salem wasn't exactly confident in his coordination at the moment. This was far from ideal. Still...
Holding on to the sapling with his left hand, he took aim with his right. His hand was shaking. He let out his breath, letting his mind relax. He couldn't tell if it was his no-doubt intense concentration, or simply the fact that he was about to pass out from his injuries, but the world seemed to fall away, aside from the figure in the distance and the copper gun.
Salem pulled the trigger. With the pumpf of compressed gas being released, a narrow projectile, barely two inches long, shot forth from the gun and through the woods.
-
Zorish and Tamora's Bug Fighter has barely disappeared into the nothing of Z-Space when a new Yeerkish ship appears above the planetoid that houses the bar. This one is a Skimmer, and substantially larger than a Bug. It is not the Skimmer that Corliss left in, however. This ship has seen significantly more wear and tear, as noted by the Dracon scars along the metal plating.
The lobster-like ship makes its descent slowly, scanning the area to get a sense of what might be going on at ground-level. When it finally settles into the gravel of the shipyard it is in a strategic location -- close enough to the bar for an easy escape, but far enough away to avoid most weapon fire. The ship hums as it shuts down, the bloodred lights fading into darkness as the landing struts take the weight of the ship.
"Well, this should be fun," the sole occupant of the ship mutters, brushing back long blonde hair with her fingers. Ordering the hatch open, she checks her dual holster, ensuring that the Dracons there are well-powered.
She hops off the ship, locking it behind her and taking care to watch where she walks. Despite the fact that it has been months and months since she could morph, she still prefers to go barefoot. Her morphing outfit is gone, however, replaced by jeans and a simple blue tank top that doesn't quite hide the deep burn scars on her left shoulder.
Peering around nervously, Terenia makes her way to the bar, hastened by the sounds of a scuffle in the nearby forest. <<That would be just my luck, getting blown up within two seconds of arriving here,>> she murmurs to herself. <<Myitt would have a field day.>>
Pulling the door to the bar open, Terenia peers inside, looking around for any familiar faces -- either friends or foes.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien finally manages to wrestle his Entroper free of the undergrowth. He changes his display to show other non-plantoid lifeforms large enough to be sentient. The display shows a glowing dot less than fifty yards behind him. He immediately looks in Salem's direction, his eyes beginning to clear some, but still unable to see more than blurry shapes, albeit in color instead of black and white. The dart is much too small for his addled eyes to pick out. He doesn't see it glance off of a small sapling between himself and the injured humanoid, sending it tumbling. He does, however, feel the dart pierce the side of his neck with the extremely lucky shot.
Rathien grunts and hisses, snarling as one hand shoots to his neck, ripping the dart free before leveling the weapon in the direction his computer says Salem is in. "Tobias! TOBIAS!" He fires three times in quick succession, one-handed and with his compromised senses. "What the hell was that?!" He clutches the dart in his off hand, maintaining enough presence of mind to keep hold of the dart for further analysis, should Tobias run off.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ______________
~Raile~
Raile feels the positive emotions radiating from Garreth, but holds to his serenity. "Experiencing joy at another's injury, I know it's wrong, I knew it was wrong when I felt it. Only compassion. That thought, that feeling...it is my only regret, aside from the senseless deaths of the war. That goes without saying. We allowed ourselves to be enveloped in that war, acting as commanders and generals... Most of the enemies were droids, but I do not know why the Coucil allowed us to be involved at all. It seems to go against teaching...and look where it got us."
-
Terenia notes a few vaguely familiar faces, but no one that she has any direct conflict with. Slightly encouraged by this fact, she steps fully inside the bar and makes her way to the counter, sitting in one of the many dilapidated stools.
"Just water for right now. Clean water," Terenia tells the bartender. She isn't quite yet comfortable enough to drink anything more substantial than that, and she even sniffs the water suspiciously when the bartender procures it.
"In all fairness, it hasn't killed me yet," she murmurs to herself, taking a sip. When she is satisfied that the water won't be poisoning her anytime soon she leans back in the stool, looking around and listening in on the conversations nearest her.
-
Parker notices Tamora returning to the bar. She's changed her clothes for some odd reason and seems to have misplaced her shoes. He looks to Zoshonel, pats him on the shoulder and says, "We'll talk later."
He follows her into the bar and takes the seat next to her. He puts up two fingers signifying he too would like a clean glass of clean water. He removes his helmet, revealing his shoulder length dirty blonde hair, stubbled jaw, and tanned complexion. He takes a sip and leans his head in her direction asking, "So, lost a taste for alcohol? Passing out in the parking lot help you decide on that?"
Garreth nodded his head, "Yes, it does seem odd that the Jedi would join a war such as that so easily. The Council is dead set against joining the war going on in my Time. Though I suppose its extreme proximity and lack of Jedi casualties may come into consideration. Though with Revan's capture, I'm certain that will change." He sits back and says Revan's name fairly loudly, giving it emphasis. He obviously holds him in high regard.
-
When Parker sits down next to her, Terenia raises her eyebrows. She recognizes him clearly from her previous visit -- it would be hard not to, with that armor -- but it takes her a moment of thought to remember his name.
"Parker," she finally says slowly. "Sorry, I don't think I've been here quite long enough to pass out yet. I know this place has some sort of quota to fill on my misery, but I figured it'd let me settle in first." She rolls her eyes and then is immediately distracted when she hears a familiar name, followed by the unsettling word 'capture'.
Jerking her head towards the speaker, her eyes narrow a little. "Did he say Reven was captured?" she asks, her fingers tightening around the glass as she listens for any further bits of conversation.
-
Salem's eyes widened for a brief second. In his heart, he'd known as soon as he'd fired that his aim was off- it was one of the instincts he'd managed to pick up over the years of marksmanship. And yet, there, on his display, was confirmation of a hit.
He only had a second to wonder before he noticed Rathien taking aim in his direction. Of course. He'd given away his position. But he realized too late. There was no time to move, only time to watch, as the sapling he was holding onto exploded. He was sent tumbling to the ground, still holding a chunk of tree trunk in his left hand, his copper weapon skittering away in the dirt and coming to a rest at the base of the large tree he'd been hiding in moments before.
Salem's broken right leg screamed in pain. Luckily, he came to rest on his left side, but his vision dimmed, and he squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth against the pain. If it hurt this much through the painkillers in his system, the damage must be severe.
When he opened his eyes, he was facing the hollow of the tree. There was his weapon, and behind it, something blue... an Illusor? Salem chuckled. What were the odds that both he and Al had chosen the same tree as a hiding spot? He must have been practically sitting on it when he was in the tree, but hadn't noticed it. The thought made him laugh even more.
When Rathien called out, asking what he'd been shot with, Salem started to break down into a fit of giggles, which quickly transformed into a hoarse, retching fit of coughing. Each cough sent a sharp spasm of pain through his leg and his chest and his throat, but he didn't bother trying to change positions. Somehow, while he was still coughing, he wound up laughing in thought-speak, directed at Rathien. It was a crazed, giddy laughter that only lasted a few seconds.
<<That,>> he said, as the coughing subsided, <<is a minor procedure. We're linked now, hunter. Modified nanites. Keyed in to my vital signs.>> He paused as he coughed for another few seconds, finally finding the strength to prop himself up on one elbow. He was still invisible. Funny how hard it was to tell exactly what was injured when you couldn't see it.
<<If they detect an end to my vitals, they melt you from the inside out. I hear it's a very unpleasant way to go.>> His breathing was shallow... his ears ringing... his head pounding... An image of a hospital he'd stayed at flashed into his mind... of a patient struggling, refusing his medication, having to be restrained...
<<You are one of the least well-behaved patients I've ever heard of. Think how much smoother that would have gone if you'd just sat still.>>
-
Parker gave a confused look and replied, "But I carried you myself. Your Yeerk was rather insistent that it walk most the way; but it passed out on the ramp, so I placed you inside the ship. You came back in, had a drink with Myitt and her new friends, then left the bar with her. Next thing I see is you returning with a wardrobe change sans shoes and ordering water."
He looks to the robed man who helped diffuse the fight earlier. He nods, "Yes, he did." He was more interested in Tamora's apparent lack of memory. Perhaps she blacked out while her parasite controlled her.
-
Terenia glances at Parker, then at the stranger who mentioned someone named Reven. "I just got here five minutes ago," she says to Parker gruffly. "And Myitt is back on base. I don't have a damned clue what you're talking about. Now shut up, I'm trying to eavesdrop."
She shifts in her stool, trying to edge closer to the seated strangers.
-
Parker narrowed his eyes, "Tamora, are you feeling well; or is this Zorish I'm talking to? If you want to know what they're saying, I can replace my helmet and read you a transcript. Thor is keeping tabs on most conversations within my vicinity. I only caught a glimpse at their conversation before I took off my helmet."
-
Terenia blinks, then turns her full attention back to Parker.
"Tamora?" she repeats, a little shrilly. "Tammy is dead. She's been dead for over a year now."
Abruptly, her eyes lose focus, a tell-tale sign of internal conversation. It only lasts a couple of seconds, but when her vision clears there is an expression of paranoia on her face. "She's not here, is she? Some...some other version of her, still trying to make my dapsen life miserable, even from the grave?"
-
While she had her two second pause, Parker muttered, "Dead?.." moments before she started speaking again, he vocalized a realization, "Terenia?"
"I don't know if she's here anymore. I saw she left with Myitt, then I saw you go in the bar. What happened between those moments, I couldn't guess. Though there were no hostilities between them their vitals would've shown any."
Parker immediately bursts into a series of questions, "How did you get your body back? How did you join the rebellion? Last I saw you, they wanted to string you up for having Efaen involuntarily. What happened with her?"
-
"Woah, calm down," Terenia says at the barrage of questions. She gives the strangers who mentioned Reven one last curious glance before resolving to simply keep an ear out for the time being. Instead, she gestures the bartender back over.
"If there's a chance of my dead sister being here, I'm going to need something stronger than water," she grumbles, ordering a beer. While she waits for her order to be filled she addresses Parker's questions.
"Prince High-and-Mighty Ossanlin gave me my body back with his voo-doo Andalite powers," she says, shrugging. "I joined the rebellion from there. So did Efaen. That was a good year or more ago, though. Not sure how long, exactly. Time is kind of confusing with Reven's stupid extra-long days."
Again, her eyes track. "Yeah, about a year," she murmurs with a frown.
-
Parker sighs saying, "Yeah, it's been a year for me as well. I was stranded in Morgan's universe, trying to find a ship with a Z-space engine, and then trying to get back here."
-
Terenia nods. "Morgan was the bull-man, right?" she says. "The one that brought along the doctor with too many arms? ****, it's been awhile." Her smile is cautious, but genuine. "Well, it's good to see you. Nice to know you're, you know, still alive and all. Oh, I guess you should meet Esreth. She's the slug hanging out in my head these days." She waves half-heartedly at the space next to her ear.
-
Parker's eyes widen in surprise, "So, you've gone from Captain to ship, huh?" He gives a playful smile, "How do you enjoy the ironic turn-around?" Before Terenia is allowed to answer, his gaze peers a bit deeper into her eyes, though he is looking at the back of her head and he adds, "And it is a pleasure to meet you Esreth." His gaze returns to the whole of Terenia's eyes as he listens to her answer.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien snarls and then howls a roar as Salem speaks in that infuriating thought-speech manner. "You lie through your teeth!" He fires multiple times in Salem's general direction until the heat-sync pops out of its vent on top of the gun and the safe-guards kick in to keep the Entroper from melting itself apart. He pulls the trigger a few more times, trigger clicking futilely before he lowers the weapon and holsters it. He doesn't notice that both his hearing and sight are returning faster than before, and the injuries he'd sustained after jumping from the tree have nearly vanished.
As he walks toward Salem's location, he draws both fighting knives with a flourish, looking for Salem's true body, the illusions still broadcasting as powerfully as before. "I'll cut the truth out of you Tobias! I'll make you tell me, and then you'll beg for the death you deserve!" He casts about with his eyes, the blurry shapes resolving into sharper and sharper images, the dull throbbing in his ears subsiding.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __
~Raile~
"Revan...the name sounds familiar. Was he not the Sith Lord who escaped the darkness and returned to the light after making use of a machine that ran off of Dark Side energy?" He finishes his tumbler of alcohol and signals the BT for another.
-
Garreth shook his head, "No, you must be mistaken. Revan is not Sith. He's the greatest Jedi I know. He fights only for peace and to liberate those under oppression. He's never hurt an innocent in his life. The only dark side to Revan is that he openly disagrees with the council's decision to stay out of the Mandalorian Wars. I know they have a greater wisdom than us; but we can't sit idly by while millions are slaughtered. That's why we Revanchists fight them ourselves." Garreth speaks with pride, though there is a slight worry in his eyes. Could this Jedi's information be true, just further ahead of Garreth's own time? Could their fighting cause them to lose sight of the Jedi way? No, it wasn't possible. He was most certainly mistaken.
-
~Raile~
Raile gives Garreth a doubtful look before continuing. "Perhaps there is more than one Revan? Though the one I'm speaking of would seem to fit your timeline. Perhaps someone merely takes his name." He shakes his head and glances over at the bar, noticing his drink setting on the counter. He sighs and wafts it over to himself, setting it on the table in front of him.
"The one that I'm speaking of...he was captured and later redeemed. Another notable Jedi is credited with his capture, though it was not the capture that gained her notoriety. Not just that anyway. It is said she knew how to use the ancient lost art of Battle Meditation. I believe her name was Bastilla. It is said she was captured and turned by Revan's former Sith apprentice, Malak, and then was rescued and redeemed by Revan himself after his own redemption."
-
Terenia groans a little. "No, don't give her an excuse to--"
She cuts off, control over her own vocal chords wrested away as Esreth steps into control, twisting Terenia's expression into a bright grin.
"Nice to meet you too," she responds, offering Terenia's hand. "It's nice to finally get out and meet some new people. Terenia's terrible about wanting to hide at home." She rolls her eyes good naturedly.
-
After the word "captured" is uttered, Garreth raises his hand and looks away while shaking his head. He shuts out his words by busying his mind with his mental exercise. Luckily his mental Pazaak a soldier had taught him worked beautifully. When he senses that Raile has discontinued his tale, he states, "I'm sorry, I meant no disrespect, though whether or not you are mistaken, I should not know too much about my future. I would request you leave any history lessons out of our conversations."
Parker's face evens to a pleased, neutral expression. He bows his head and says, "Well it is rather understandable as she quit her previous employment from a boss she described as lethally unforgiving. May I ask how you came to be paired?"
-
"Ah, well," Esreth shrugs, exchanging Terenia's water for the bottle of beer the bartender has procured. "As with anything involving Terenia, there's a long, complicated answer and a rather more palatable one. Suffice it to say, after so many years with Efaen and the instincts of three different species floating around in her head, she found the silence a bit unbearable. Especially after certain events unfolded on base."
She smiles a little apologetically. "Terenia is requesting I avoid further detail than that, for the time being. It's still a bit of a touchy subject. Regardless, I had been pool bound for two years, so you can imagine I was pleased to accept her. She's a grouchy one, but endearing enough." Esreth winks.
-
~Raile~
Raile looks taken aback for a moment and then shrugs. "As you wish." He falls silent, occasionally sipping his drink.
-
Parker nodded, accepting the lack of information. He replies, "I understand slightly. I've only had two real encounters with her: first, when she arrived, getting personal information was an effort. When details of her situation became exposed, the others attempted to capture her. I was the only one who attempted to help defend her. Later, I responded to an attack and found her wounded and under duress. I removed her from that danger as well. After that, I left on a rescue mission and haven't seen her since. Though I'm sure you know all of this." He deepens his gaze into her eyes, speaking seemingly to the back of her mind, directing his next statement to Terenia, "I'm glad to see your situation has greatly improved..." he slightly ****s his head, "to a degree." He smiles at Esreth
Garreth asks, reflecting on the conversation before its digression, "A droid army? Who in there right mind has an army of only droids?"
-
As the woods exploded around Salem, he watched with a disconnected concern. He could die here, but it didn't seem to be his problem. Good thing he was already lying down, though. He halfheartedly drew his holstered gravity pistol, then found himself wondering what to use it for. His mind flashed to an image of himself, angry about... something... and Al's good-natured mocking of him.
<<You're such a Mr. Grumpy,>> he thought-spoke, imitating Al's tone pretty well, he thought. He stuck to thought-speech simply because the very thought of actually calling out made his throat hurt. <<The...>> what were they called? <<nano-thingies are good for you, too. Heal you up. Keep you healthy.>> He nodded to himself. That ought to explain it.
But another part of his brain was saying "Mr. Grumpy?" Even if he believes you about the link, he'd probably kill you just for that. I know I would.
He pressed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate on something besides the sea of snaking tendrils everywhere. <<Besides,>> he continued, a little more lucidly, <<is that really the kind of thing you want to risk testing? In this case either we both win or we both lose.>> His headache seemed to be getting worse...
-
"Oh, it's improved tremendously," Esreth says off-handedly. "How could it not, with me in it?" She grins, taking a small sip of beer. "As for her past, yes, that's one of the lovely side effects of living in her head. It's probably for the best, since I doubt I'd believe her story if I couldn't see it myself. She's had...an incredibly varied life in a rather short period of time."
<<That I don't like to dwell on,>> Terenia reminds Esreth, her internal voice grumpy.
-
Parker asks, "So how do you enjoy being inside a suit that is wanted by a truly evil man? Is it more exciting than your previous vessels?"
-
"You hardly 'got my hopes up,' sir," Serid murmurs in response to Ossanlin with a polite nod, waiting for him to finish speaking before he replies. "I wished to merely thank you for even considering an individual such as me as potentially capable of achieving such a rank, should it be deserved in the future. Most members of our military in ranks such as yours would dismiss even the thought of it."
He shifts his weight upon considering the War Prince's final question. "My only question is regarding my current assignment. What would you have me do before we depart?"
-
Esreth raises her eyebrows. "Everyone in the rebellion is wanted by a truly evil Empire," she says with a shrug. "Or, at least, a truly corrupt one. The Visser that imprisoned Terenia is much like any other that lets his power go to his head. Besides," she smirks a little, "accounts of his personal involvement may have been slightly exaggerated. Most of her abysmal time on that Blade Ship was spent in the presence of his guards and his torturers. They rarely interacted themselves."
She waves a hand dismissively. "Terenia's story is unique, but she's still a human, and not much different in that regard from past human hosts that I've had."
-
Parker nodded understandingly, "Well, I guess she's in good company then. So you've never been in the living Swiss Army knife, or the weird ape with the speech impediment?" He takes drink, grimaces and holds up his glass as he asks the bartender, "Ice, if you would."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods, listening to Serid. <Your current physical form will inhibit you in cases where close-quarters combat are required, but an officer's true weapons are his mind and his men. I am convinced you have the capabilities of possessing the former, it is the latter that will be difficult.>
He eye-smiles a bit and trots to his quarters aboard the Mirage, unlocking the door. <Join me if you would please. As far as duties before we return to the ship, it is merely a matter of situation. Right now, there is no crisis or event that requires my attention or intervention. You are free to do as you wish as long as you remain within the planetoid's atmosphere. I would merely ask that you return to me and serve as you would in any battle-situation should the need arise. I will tell you if it does.>
He closes his eyes as he waits for Serid to follow. <I thought that since the bar seems to be fairly docile at the moment, and I am recharged, we could proceed with our first foray into righting your genome. That is, if you wish to continue down that particular path...>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _________________
~Rathien~
Rathien snarls as Salem rambles on. His ARC is honing in on life-signs. He also sees broken twigs and scrapes in the dirt that likely have nothing to do with the light shot. He slices underbrush out of his way with swift, succinct slashes of his blades before pausing near the hollow of a tree. He bares his fangs as he considers the best way to approach what he assumes is Tobias's little hidey-hole. He could toss an explosive inside the tree quite easily, his vision nearly fully recovered from its previous paralysis, but then he would likely never learn what had truly been inside the vial.
Suddenly it hits him...the swift recovery of his eyes and hearing, not to mention the absence of the bruises and painful ribs he should have from fetching up against that blasted tree trunk. He had always been a quick healer, but not that quick, not without treatment. His eyes widen with a stab of fear that manages to pierce through his rage. Could Tobias have really told the truth? Nanites...could they truly be controlled remotely? If so, Tobias could've placed a collar and leash around the wolf's neck as if he was any other dog. He snarls again, but in a mixture of fear and anger now, he caresses his own neck with the back of a fighting blade as if feeling the proverbial collar cinching down.
"You...you must be lying, you HAVE to be lying!" He takes another step toward the hollow at the base of the tree. "No one leashes me! I belong to myself!" Killing Tobias and ending his own Dream as well? That might be a worthwhile trade, and yet Fate still did not sing her song. He had gone against Fate in fighting this battle and he realizes the folly. If what Tobias says is true...he roars in a combination of rage, frustration, and a hint of fear. "Your death...will be sweet..." He nearly whispers the words, taking another step toward the tree. His feet and hands feel leaden...this could not be happening.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _________________
~Raile~
Raile shrugs and gestures with a hand, palm up. "I cannot know what you will wish to know and what you will not. Perhaps if I tell you who has decided to become Separatist, who's to say you will not do anything in your time to affect that outcome? Who can say if time will not be forever altered in some unforseeable way?"
-
Garreth gave a sigh, "Fair enough, though being over 4,000 years in your past, I think you're safe from such problems. The only true issue, I find, is telling me information about my future, near-future. I'm not asking about specifics, really, I was commenting on the absurdity of having an army of constructs."
-
"Ape with a speech impediment?" Esreth repeats, laughing. "I don't think any Gedd would appreciate that, if they could grasp the concept. Yes, I had a training Gedd, as most Yeerks do. A Hork-Bajir as well, but briefly. Terenia is my third human, and I tend to prefer them."
She raises her eyebrows at Parker. "So, you got caught up in another dimension, huh? That must have been interesting. Can't say either of us have every had that misfortune, unless you count this place. Which I don't think is really any dimension."
-
Parker looks around and mentions, "Or every dimension." He smiles a weak smile that fades as the memories of his year stranded surface. One of the drawbacks of a trained memory is that you don't forget very easily. He gives a sigh and continues, all of his words are weighed with regret, no pride at all in his voice. It's obvious his actions during his time in the other universe disturbed him.
"Yeah, my abilities as a soldier definitely got me through that place. I worked my way through their underground. It's amazing what you can get when you can lift their strongest brute with a single hand. I was able to get my own ship and a crew. We had to do several... jobs to keep us fueled and fed. My only goal the entire time was to find a way to return here. I made an insane amount of random jumps, tried sabotaging our engine in a way we would survive but may still make it, I tried so many things and lost so many crew members who'd thought I'd gone crazy. All the crimes I committed... ... ... my entire life, I was raised and trained to uphold the law. What I had to do over there... Let's just say I finally found my way back."
-
Jocun was relaxing, listening to the conversation between the new rebel and Parker. This time the Yeerk was the more cheerful one than the host, unlike Aya and Terliss. It didn't matter much to him, though. He didn't really care what species a person was. If they were nice, he appreciated their company. He didn't interupt the conversation, though he was looking at them as they talked. He wondered how the fight outside would resolve itsself. Things had quieted down, which he took as a good sign. Or perhaps they were just too far away now to be heard.
-
Esreth nods. "Terenia says that living by the law is overrated," she relays with a smirk. "But I can admire the desire to do so, so long as those laws don't involve wreaking havoc on other species. I break my people's laws every day, and I'm proud to do so. I hope the ones you try to uphold are a bit more worthy than the Empire's."
<<Oh boy, here we go,>> Terenia mutters.
The Yeerk smirks a little. "You'll have to excuse me, I think I've overstayed my welcome in the driver's seat. I'm going to hand it back to Terenia for a little bit." She winks and slides out of control.
The smile immediately turns into a scowl, and Terenia rolls her eyes. "Yes, she's always like that," she mutters. "Too damn nice for my --" Her eyes narrow a little as she realizes they are being watched.
"Hey," she calls to Jocun. "Find something interesting?"
-
"I'm highly interested in rebels, actually." Jocun said. Given her scowl, he assumed she was being snippy, rather than friendly. "Some are friendlier than others, obviously. Name's Jocun 119. This middle aged Human is Simon. I don't mean any harm, though." He decided to stop there. She might dislike it if he went on and on, like when Terliss became annoyed when he just wanted a quick answer from Jocun.
-
A lone, well-kept Bug fighter melts into real space not far from the bar's orbit.
It careens a little too quickly down towards the building, circling in a wide arc above it as if trying to decide whether or not to land. Whoever is piloting the ship seems to be having difficulty doing so very smoothly, but eventually it does wobble itself down towards the far end of the gravel parking area--where there is much more room for a ship to land without hitting anything.
After a lengthy pause the lights fade to darkness, and a man in his early-thirties steps down the ramp, staring wide-eyed up at the strange sky.
He seals the ship and weaves his way through the graveyard of dead and half-living ships, marveling at some of the machinery that is very much alive and very foreign to his sensibilities.
His black boots crunch along the gravel as he approaches the bar, and he keeps his Dracon at his side holster, stuck to the belt of his faded jeans. His crimson--or perhaps it was once crimson--polo shirt looks like it has seen better days, and it is smudged with black oil stains that simply will not come out. He is tall and skinny, with pale skin and an angular, amiable face. The most striking thing about his appearance, as he steps cautiously into the very Earth-like building on a very alien planetoid, is the mess of brown ringlets that sprout from his head. His curly hair frames his face and ends just short of his shoulders, and he pushes it out of his wary brown eyes as he inspects the bar's occupants.
The sea of strangers--some of whom are dressed in armor or other clothing that smacks of a lack of humanity--makes him frown, and when he spots the Andalite his heart nearly stops in his chest. He briefly considers stepping back out the door, until he spots Terenia's familiar face.
Skirting around the Andalite with a wide a berth as he can give, he makes his way towards her seat at the bar, staring at the thing to which she is talking.
"Terenia," he breathes with relief, eyes wide as saucers. "Thank God you're here, I didn't expect...would you look at this place?" He laughs, looking around, his eyes meeting Jocun's gaze briefly before stopping at Parker's form again. "Sorry, but what the hell are you?" His thumb runs along the edge of his Dracon, cautiously.
-
Jocun watched the seemingly paranoid controller come in. Obviously he didn't care for Andalites, but he was a friend of Terenia's. Given Myitt's comfort around Ossanlin, he wondered why this one had a completely different reaction.
<Maybe you should brush up on your history.> Simon said.
<Our history books don't tell us every detail on each rebel and their relationship with everyone else.>
-
Terenia frowns a little, noting that Jocun introduced his host. "You know eavesdropping is rude, right?" she finally settles on saying. "If you're going to join us, come join us. If not, go away."
She shrugs a little apologetically to Parker, as if the eavesdropping Controller were her fault. "People around here..." she mutters, sipping her beer. Her attention is drawn away again, however, by the arrival of a familiar newcomer.
"Gene?" Terenia asks in surprise, pulling out a chair for him. "What the hell are you doing here? Is everything okay?" She glances between him and Parker. "Oh, he's fine, he's just got a really elaborate suit of armor. Um...Parker, this is Gene. Gene, Parker."
<<You think everything is okay?>> Terenia wonders inwardly, immediately flashing back to the partially overheard conversation from earlier. <<You don't think Reven is in trouble, do you?>>
<<I'm sure everything is fine,>> Esreth murmurs. <<And if it isn't, Gene will let us know.>>
-
"Thanks." Jocun said, and came to sit at their table. "Honestly I'm not used to people minding me eavesdropping on them or including myself in their conversations. I'm rather popular where I'm from. Then I got this bright idea to vacation in a place where no one knows who I am."
-
Salem rolled his torso so he was on his back and turned his head. He watched with nothing but a detached curiosity as Rathien approached. Was he looking at Salem? No... he was looking past him. Into the hollow in the tree. Salem turned again and looked back at the hollow, his copper gun still lying out in front of it. It was an interesting tree, wasn't it?
<<Way I see it, you only lose one kill,>> he said, the words flowing from him seeming to bypass his current thought process. <<Whereas I gain my entire life.>> That made sense, didn't it? Did it? Salem felt himself aiming his gun at Rathien, and frowned. He shouldn't shoot him now, right? But why? That was what you did with Rathiens. You shot at them, and then they shot back. That was just how it was done.
But this one... he shouldn't shoot this one. Not now.
And Rathien looked mad. He should be, shouldn't he? After all, Salem had just prevented him from making this kill. Salem had the feeling that Rathien didn't let many bounties get away.
Or maybe he was just mad at all the chaos and anger in the world. The way no one could change things, not like they wanted to. Even those with power could do little beyond finding a niche. And when that niche was smoked out, there was nothing to do but find another. Sometimes in another world altogether. It wasn't fair, but there wasn't anything anyone could do about it, right? So there was no reason to get mad.
<<You look frustrated,>> he said, doing his best to sound authoritative and doctoral. Best person to diagnose madness was probably a doctor of some kind, right? But doctors gave medicines and cures. What kind of cure would be best? Salem didn't know, but he did know some good cure-alls.
<<Maybe you need a drink.>>
-
Parker waved a dismissive hand at Terenia's apology and was about to reply when a strange man began blurting at Terenia about the planetoid. He raised an eyebrow at "Gene", apparently a friend of Terenia's. He didn't like meeting new people without his helmet on. Parker moved his hair from his tanned face to get a good look at the person. When Gene asked what he was, he noticed Gene's hand massage his weappn. Parker raised his gaunleted hands and said, "I believe it's obvious that I'm Human; though a tad more protected than a normal soldier."
He slowly leveled his right arm to shake Gene's hand and said, "Officially, I'm a SPARTAN-II. My name is Parker-821. Nice to meet another acquaintance of Terenia's."
-
"Hang on, take a breath already," Gene says to Terenia, smiling. "Yes, everything's fine. I'm just here to, you know, see the place." He shrugs. "Maybe pick up a few, uh...supplies."
He blinks at Parker. "I've never seen an actual human dressed like...like that," Gene replies, gesturing at the SPARTAN soldier's armor. "If Terenia thinks you're okay, then I guess you're alright. You just...look like a Transformer." He smirks. "Gene Tannenbaum." He hesitates before shaking Parker's hand. "What's with the numbers? Parker..two...all that? You sound like a Yeerk." Gene rolls his eyes good-naturedly.
-
"So Terenia, have the rebels had any recent successes against the Empire?" Jocun asked. he was curious to know where in the timeline the rebels were, and if anything matched his history.
-
Terenia raises her eyebrows at Jocun. "Sorry," she says, not sounding sorry at all, "but I'm not particularly in the habit of discussing the rebellion with people I met five seconds ago. You'll have to forgive me if I don't trust you."
She glances at Gene, smirking a little at the mention of 'supplies'. "Parker's come in handy," she says. "He saved me from some dapsen turelek that shot my arm off."
-
"I don't think it would be much of a breach to talk about things that have already happened, and are likely already publicly known." Jocun said. "I'm not asking about secret missions and the like. Just some general stuff."
-
Parker looked to the man who was earlier conversing with the bounty hunter, and was now inserting himself into their conversation. He gave him a serious look and said, "I believe the lady told you to change your topic of conversation. If she doesn't wish to discuss the inner workings of a secret organization, it would be best to leave it at that."
He turned to Gene and replied, "And you Yeerks sound like Spartans, except for the whole parasite bit." His eyes narrow as he says, "Except she called you 'Gene', so you very well may not be a Yeerk; unless you too are a vessel. Either way, I used to have a last name, but when I was recruited, it was replaced with my Spartan number. Officially my name is SPARTAN-821. Not many people know my birth name."
-
"You know it's kind of insulting to call us vessels. That's something you call an object." Simon said. Jocun didn't respond to his comment, and waited for Terenia's response.
-
"I don't particularly like the term 'vessel' either," Terenia mutters. "But that doesn't mean I want to talk about the rebellion with you, Jocun. Anything that might have happened in the past year or so since I've been with them hasn't been significant enough to mention."
<<You're lying,>> Esreth observes.
<<You really think I'm going to bring up the barium incident with Gene here?>> Terenia snaps. <<Besides, the Empire doesn't know that came from us. It could have come from anyone, and if this Jocun person works for the Empire I don't want him bringing down his forces on us because I slip up.>>
-
"Alright. We can talk about something less sensitive." Though he wasn't sure what else to talk about if they weren't going to discuss the rebellion. He ordered a drink and some food so he could occupy himself while listening, and maybe he could think of something else later.
-
"Another turelek?" Gene asks sharply, glancing around as if one were about to appear.
He clears his throat, turning his distracted attention to Parker. "No, I'm not a Yeerk," he says with a wry smile. "I'm pretty darn human. But I...was once very close to one. I'm afraid I'm not familiar with this 'spartan' designation, outside of...like...Greek culture on Earth."
-
"There was a bounty hunter I was having conversations with earlier, but she ran off. There's also someone trying to assassinate another person, though the fight was taken outside some time ago. I don't know if he was a bounty hunter, or just a guy with a vendetta. This isn't exactly the safest place in the galaxy, and part of me wants to call a bodyguard or two, but that may be intimidating."
-
~Rathien~
Rathien tries to sneer, but the expression fails. Then he spots movement off to the side of the tree, looking very real. The indicator dot was still overlaid on the tree...but his ARC could be fooled too. He turns toward the flash of movement and walks with purpose, fighting blades ready at his sides. The movement resolves into Salem, and a very real-looking one. A flash of anger flares up and his walk turns into a quick stride. He growls, baring his fangs, and then yells as he swings one of his fighting blades at the somewhat-bewildered looking Salem. He aims for the neck, but barely stops himself before the blade would've touched the "trader." "You..you just couldn't die, could you? You had to keep fighting. Look at the mess you're in." He growls. "Why the Hell didn't you just run away like usual? Better yet why didn't you just die?!" He nearly swings the blade again in anger, but visibly fights off the urge, his blades vibrating with barely-constrained rage.
Rathien grimaces, wanting nothing more than to sink his fangs into Salem, no matter the poor taste of his flesh. But he knows he's already lost. His adrenaline rush begins to wane and quite suddenly, Rathien's legs give out on him. He falls to his knees in front of Salem, seeming to fold in on himself. He hugs his arms to his chest, blades crossing under his chin as he groans sharply. Pain shoots from every part of him. Was this the effect of whatever Tobias had injected him with? It must be. Of course the fool had only been buying time until his injection could work its magic. Rathien angles his head up, eyes squeezed shut tightly, and yells out in pain before falling onto his side in a quivering heap. In his current condition, Rathien can't help but think that a Gedd could perform a coup de gras on him with a rock.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _________
~Raile~
Raile shakes his head. "But what is near enough to cause ripples and what is not? Could it not change the Galaxy...even the Universe drastically? Wouldn't the effect be more and more amplified over a greater time-period? What if the information I share with you affects decisions you make in your life? Who's to say I have not already influenced you on a subconscious level? It seems very dangerous."
Raile sighs and shakes his head, sipping from his new tumbler. "That particular army would've swept over the Republic like a disease had it not been for a random turn of what we thought was good luck. The Grand Army of the Republic had already been ordered, supposedly by a Jedi Master who had died some time ago. It was all very vague. The Army consists mainly of clones, you see. Grown and groomed for battle." Raile makes a noise in his throat before drinking again. "Now I'm almost certain, by the way the Clones turned on Master Slone and I, that the Army was ordered by a Sith Lord, not Master Dyas. Quite likely by the very Sith Lord who now rules the 'Republic' as an Emperor."
"The droids were built by the millions at the behest of the Trade Federation, and then production was increased when the Trade Federation joined with other factions in the Seperatist Movement." He waves his free hand. "Droids in my time are capable a reasonable facsimile of intelligence and autonamy. They're cheap and expendable. They don't require food or rest. They are programmed not to fear their own destruction and will wade in anywhere they're told to without trepidation."
-
Garreth shrugs, "See? I have no idea what any of that means. Clone army, Trade Federation, Master Dyas. They mean absolutely nothing to me. Four thousand years is a very long time. There is nothing I can do in my Time that would impact yours short of leaving a message to the far future. I'm not going to do that."
Parker glared at Jocun, "It was that very bounty hunter that almost killed Terenia. You have a habit of picking just the right topics to talk about don't you?" Parker gave a sarcastic tone to the word "right".
Parker turns back to Gene, "Well, we were named after those Spartans. We soldiers were trained starting from six to eight years old. Raised to be the ultimate soldier. So how many non-hosts are in the rebellion if I may ask? I thought it was mostly a Yeerk organization?"
-
"I was attempting to make allies, and help Keshin to leave her way of life. I find oftentimes mercenaries are in the business due to circumstances, and not because they enjoy being hitmen and gofers for people. Keshin decided to remain a bounty hunter, though. I don't know the story behind why Keshin attempted to kill Terenia, so I won't comment on that. I certainly would never hire a mercenary of any type to harm a rebel, or stand by and let one do it. That would be screwing up my past, and I rather enjoy my current life."
-
"There are a few unhosted humans and Hork-Bajir on base, it's a complicated dilemma with so many good soldiers stuck in the pool. But, ah...most of us come to the rebellion because of a Yeerk, of course." He glances at Terenia, wondering if perhaps he's saying a bit too much.
"Uh." Gene's light brown eyebrows shoot up. "Wait a minute, you've been a soldier since you were six years old?" he blurts. "Man...I knew this bar place was something else, but I didn't expect human super soldiers." He grins excitedly. "So you must be from some kind of future Earth?" He barks a laugh. "Don't suppose you could tell me my lottery numbers?"
-
Parker smiled appreciatively. He had never met someone who was any kind of excited to see him. Most of the time he was sent in to babysit platoons that resented him. Most of the military saw the SPARTANs as freaks of nature, rather than an important ally. Although Master Chief SPARTAN-117 made an impact on that front when the SPARTAN program was made public, Parker himself still had never left the shadows or battlefield to take part in any PR stunts. He nodded his head and replied, "Unfortunately no. In my Earth, we didn't make first contact until the twenty-sixth century; and it wasn't as friendly as yours."
-
Terenia scowls a little at Jocun. "You must not have known many bounty hunters," she says. "Every turelek I've ever known has been in the job because it's what they love. They would have to, to live on the fringe like that. They're sick, the lot of them."
She looks as though she is about to say more, but instead Esreth steps into control, before Terenia can go off the handle.
"I'm sorry, Jocun," the Yeerk says with a small smile. "Keshin is not the only turelek that has caused Terenia harm. We rebels as a whole don't particularly hold them in high regard." She presses Terenia's lips into a thin line. "You are from a future line, then? Terenia observed earlier that you introduced your host, so I suppose that your timeline treats them a bit differently from how the Empire would prefer nowadays."
-
"I suppose we could have had different experience with mercenaries. And yes, in the future our people treat hosts quite differently. This is in no small part to the influence of the rebels. Slavery is illegal, and there are departments for host aide if they have complaints about Yeerks. The Council's power has also been diminished, due to most of their loyal vissers dying in the last battles and the loss of the fear of being wiped out once the Andalites lost the war. Though not perfect, it is a new and better Empire."
"The rebels are noted historical figures, and the thought of talking to someone like Reven, or even any other well known person would be akin to a Human getting to see Abraham Lincoln or great historical figures of other countries. Though I'll probably never get to."
-
Parker rolls his eyes and lands them on Jocun, "Bounty Hunters and Mercenaries are not the same. Bounty Hunters use kid gloves and capture rather than kill. Mercenary kid gloves are made of radioactive titanium. They don't know the meaning of the word 'subdual'. Sure, Bounty Hunters kill; but they're cubs compared to momma bear Mercenaries. Get your titles straight."
-
"A bounty hunter is a type of mercenary, and I have dealings with more types of mercenaries than just bounty hunters. That's why I used that word instead of just what Keshin is. It's possible that the reason I have better dealings with them is because first they'd have to be able to get past security, and if they were the worse type, chances are my bodyguards would have killed them before they got to me."
-
"A turelek kills, captures, maims and whatever else the person paying requires," Esreth murmurs darkly. "Perhaps it is different where you are from, Parker, but I would hardly refer to any turelek as a 'cub'. They are evil creatures."
She gives him a small smile to show that she means no disrespect for their difference in opinion, then turns back to Jocun.
"I have a hard time picturing Reven as an Abraham Lincoln figure," she says, her smile growing a little. "Besides, the Reven from your universe is likely not the same Reven from mine, though it would be nice to think that our little rebellion manages to make a significant impact on the war."
-
"I don't know if I'm from your future or not, really. I have little information to go on so far. Maybe it would be better if our timelines weren't quite on the same road. Less risk that I negatively effect my own personal present. Talk of your rebellion is sensitive, and talk of bounty hunters is not very pleasant. What better topics would you like to talk about?"
-
Parker gave Esreth a playful grin and replied, "Oh I didn't compare cubs to Bounty Hunters, I was comparing the relationship between the two as far as ruthlessness and danger. Though I will say I'm sure our two terms don't translate well. Sometimes you just have to pick the best term that's close enough to yours."
-
"Oh," Gene tells Parker idly. "Well, here's hoping we don't have a run-in with the aliens from your Earth; we've already got our hands full with an invasion of our own."
He clears his throat, becoming uncomfortable from the discussion about bounty hunters. "Is your only experience with Yeerks from your time here at the bar, then?"
-
"I think I'd have to agree. If aliens from Parker's universe came here, we'd likely be in trouble given that soldiers need that kind of protection to defend from them." Jocun said.
-
Parker nodded, "Indeed it is. The only Yeerks I've met are from the rebellion or otherwise disconnected from your Empire; except Zorish within Tamora, of course. So it's just the rebellion between your Earth being completely overrun?"
-
Esreth shakes her head. "There's a Peace Movement on Earth. Or several Peace Movements, I suppose. Unfortunately, they don't get much done. That's sort of what happens when you're part of a pacifistic movement." She rolls her eyes, looking amused. "Many rebels started out there, then decided they actually wanted to do something, not just sit on their asses and complain."
-
"From what I remember, the only resistance after the Dome Ship was destroyed in the beginning was only a handful of people using the ability to morph to do what they could before being found out by Visser One. They did accomplish some things, though, to their credit."
-
Salem watched, curiously, as Rathien walked towards him. It wasn't until the blades were already swinging towards his neck that he realized it; Rathien was going to kill him, here and now. It didn't matter whether he believed Salem about the nanites or not. It didn't matter that his cloak was failing- he was dimly aware of the pool of blood that had formed around his right leg, soaking the cloak clean through and dulling its properties to the point of uselessness.
No, all that mattered now was that this was the end. Salem pressed his eyes shut and waited. He waited for what felt like a long time, until Rathien spoke, asking him why he hadn't run away or died.
"Couldn't die," he choked out, his voice sounding raspier than he remembered. "Too much else to do."
Rathien collapsed at his side. Either it was far more sudden than Salem had expected, or he hadn't been paying attention. The hunter was almost close enough to reach out and touch. For a moment, Salem considered doing exactly that. Why was Rathien lying down too? Nanites? Oh, right! Nanites!
The nanites weren't acclimated to Ildari physiology- they would use Rathien as their base-point, but the road to their eventual knowledge of his body might be a little rough. It was one of the things Salem liked least about these nanites- they could be particularly invasive in pursuit of a baseline of knowledge. It happened differently every time, but it was never much fun.
These were all things Salem thought, but the only thoughts that he managed to verbalize came out as an honest, if not entirely clear, "Don't know how long that'll last." In his current state, Salem couldn't really remember what he'd said and what he'd only thought, or if there was a difference between them. He followed up with another "Don't know how long that'll last," which proved equally insightful the second time around.
He looked at the hunter... he didn't want to be here when Rathien got up, did he? He tried to sit up, only to be reminded sharply of his broken leg. If only he could get better... didn't Terenia get better somehow? Morphing, right? Salem remembered telling himself that Morphing was good for healing. That might work.
After a few tries, he was able to hold the image of a Kafit bird in his mind. While he wondered how one bird could remember to flap so many wings, he found himself shrinking.
-
"I've only heard rumors of people with the ability to morph, on Earth," Gene says with a shrug. "Some sort of rogue group of Andalites, from what I always heard."
He glances at Parker. "Let's just say Imperial Yeerks don't tend to make their way here very often. In fact, I never quite imagined I'd find this place." He smirks. "Nor that I'd meet people from what's clearly another universe."
-
Parker listened with interest, "Good to know there's hope for that Earth at least." He comments to Gene, "I didn't mean to come here at all. From what I've seen, very few of those who come here elect to do so." He changes the subject, "So what brings you to this place?"
-
Gene barks a laugh. "Well, unlike most people, especially most humans? I knew this place existed. Turns out you can get quite a few difficult-to-find things here, and to be honest, I was curious to see what it was like after hearing about it for so long. A couple of my acquaintances back at the base are regulars here, not to mention Terenia." He grins at her, good-naturedly.
-
Parker raised an eyebrow, "'Difficult-to-find things?' I haven't noticed any wares to be sold other than the food. What things would you be looking for here? I have to ask, if you've heard so many stories, no doubt you've heard of the dangers. Why would you be so curious to be in a place that randomly breaks out in brawls?"
-
"Let's just say there are certain drinks that can be found here and probably nowhere else in the galaxy," Gene says primly.
-
"Good food and drink is always appreciated." Jocun said, enjoying his meal and drink. "Maybe if this place had a proper bouncer it would be better about the bar brawls."
-
Terenia rolls her eyes up at Gene. "And many of us found our way to the rebellion through this bar, so I suppose it has more than one thing going for it."
She snickers a little at the mention of certain drinks, but offers no commentary, instead looking over at Jocun. "A proper bouncer would have kicked me out a long time ago," she says. "And the bouncer that does hang out around here isn't someone I want to ever meet."
-
"This place does have a bouncer? He's certainly not quick with reacting to danger, it would seem. Or she.
-
Parker scoffed at the mention of a bouncer, "That bouncer would have to be extremely impressive to stop many of those who threatened this place."
-
"Shh," Gene hisses, glancing around. "You don't want to anger it. I've heard stories...none of them pretty." He bites his lip, glancing at Terenia to see if she can share in the joke.
-
Terenia smirks a little at Gene.
<<He's not so bad, I guess,>> she admits begrudgingly.
<<I told you,>> Esreth replies proudly. <<It's something every proper human girl needs.>>
<<Uh-huh. I still don't quite believe you on that one, Yeerk.>>
Clearing her throat, Terenia looks back at Parker and Jocun. "I've only seen the bouncer in action once or twice, but from what I understand his job isn't exactly to keep people in line. It's more to put the bar back together when someone inevitably blows it up. I've never seen him do anything to a person. Don't think I'd want to." She shivers a little.
-
"Perhaps this place is run by a higher power, like the Ellemist or Crayak. Maybe they built it so they could watch all the other dimensions and timelines at once. I don't suppose it's possible that this place is the origin of all reality?" Jocun asked. "It begs so many questions."
-
Parker smiles, he looks from Gene to Terenia and replies, "You know Terenia, I've been here longer than you have. I've seen the bar pull itself back together on multiple occasions." He looks back to Gene, "No bouncer. It's a cute game, but I don't need a lie detector to tell you're playing a game here." He points to both of them, "The shared looks between you alone..."
He looks incredulously at Jocun, "And you're just off your rocker."
Parker calls the bartender over and asks Gene, "So what 'supply' do you prefer? The weird robed one at the table over there," he jerks his head toward the Jedi, "ordered something called a 'Tarisian Ale'. I thought it sounded odd enough to be good if I wasn't so guarded against the stuff."
-
"What? You don't believe in higher powers? They certainly exist in my universe. Playing their games to amuse themselves to pass the time through eternity."
-
"Oh yeah, Terenia and I share a lot of looks alone together," Gene says matter-of-factly. "Meaningful ones, even."
He eyes Terenia. "Careful, we'll have him thinking you're my girlfriend." He grins, ears reddening.
-
Parker ignores Jocun and replies, "There are looks, and there are looks. Different ones have different meanings. Yours asked for credibility." He then narrows his eyes and points to his ears, "Those, on the other hand, show a completely different question."
He pats Gene on the shoulder and repeats his question, "So what'll be your drink? If you're up for water like Terenia and I, be sure to ask for a clean supply."
-
"I think it's good to have people you care about. Simon has a husband himself. They've been together for a while. You guys look like you're pretty early in your relationship, though. I wish the best for both of you."
-
Esreth laughs outright at that, grinning over at Gene. "Well you are her boyfriend," she teases. "You're a boy, and you're her friend, aren't you? That seems to fit the criteria pretty well, hm?" She reaches up and plucks at one of his curls, pulling it straight and letting it bounce back into place, seeming to have no regard for personal space.
When Terenia resumes control she rolls her eyes. "Ignore her," she says, pulling away a little. "Sometimes I think the alcohol here might be safer. At least you're guaranteed it's sterile. Mostly."
-
"A drink?" Gene almost yelps. "Well, yeah, water's fine. Just water. Clean, uh, I guess."
He smiles a delayed smile at Terenia, tucking some of his hair back a little. "Heh, yeah, you're...you're right about that."
Then he glances at Jocun. "What?" he asks blankly, distracted by his own embarrassment and Terenia and Esreth's playfulness. "We...we're not...she's not my...we're not really in a relationship." Now the blush has crept to his light cheeks. "Did you say 'husband'?" He blinks.
-
"Quite early in your relationship if you get flustered just for someone noticing you have feelings for someone." Simon said. "If you didn't like her, you wouldn't be as bothered. It's ok, though. Different people go at a different pace. And yes I'm married. I'm educated, in good shape, and have a good career, so of course I didn't have too much trouble finding someone."
-
Gene's gaze flicks from Terenia to Simon.
"Trust me," he says with a short laugh. "Terenia and I are just good friends."
-
Esreth slides back into control, clearly enjoying the conversation. She looks up at Gene with wide eyes, biting her lip. "Are you...are you telling me that you don't like me?" she asks, feigning hurt. "Like....like like me?"
<<Oh my God,>> Terenia groans. <<Please stop making me look like some fourteen year old girl.>>
-
Gene finally allows the tension in his shoulders to relax a hair.
"Terenia," he says loftily, "I adore you." He grins.
-
Parker smiles, amused, and asks, "Not to ruin the 'like'-fest; but what happened with Corliss?" He looks to Terenia, "I heard you two were rather close when you regained your body; or was I misinformed?"
-
Terenia's lips twitch up into a small, affectionate smile as she takes control again. "Corliss is fine," she says quietly. "He and Mike are back on base. They aren't particularly big fans of this place. It makes them paranoid." Her smile widens a little, and she ducks her head.
-
"This is obviously not the safest place to be. Maybe if Al makes a new place that's somehow safer, that will be the new big thing. The rebels tend to come in small groups. If Corliss is paranoid about this place, makybe he should just make a party out of it. Bring several of his coworkers with him."
-
Terenia snorts derisively. "That's not exactly how it works," she says dryly. "Reven isn't exactly thrilled when we run off to this place. He doesn't try to stop us, but I don't think he'd appreciate it if half the base up and left to go intergalactic bar hopping."
She looks around the bar. "Who's Al?"
-
"Oh, I see. I can't say I'd be happy about a bunch of my soldiers or employees taking a vacation I didn't approve of. Though I guess he's not a strict military commander. I suppose deaths don't happen too often, do they?"
"Al is a robotic patron that was in here, before leaving after mentioning he was going to open his own place. Probably not completely serious about that, though."
-
"Robotic patron?" Gene laughs, shaking his head. "I might need to become a regular here, this place is far too exciting to ignore."
He glances at Parker. "See? I wouldn't come between Terenia and Mike and Corliss." He rolls his eyes. "I'm too much of a gentleman for that sort of thing." Gene winks at Esreth and Terenia, his cheeks still a little flushed.
-
"Yes, the bar has its good side as well as its bad. Above all else, though, this place is the strangest I've ever seen." Jocun said. "So what is the Empire of the past up to, anyway?"
-
Parker puts up a hand defensively, "Hey, I was only curious. A lot can happen in a year. My first mate had a relationship that was a flash in the pan. It lasted two weeks. He thought they were made for each other, then they just fell apart quietly. She left at the next port and we never heard from her again."
He comments on Al, "Yeah, Al, apparently, is an A.I. construct inside of an android. He's got an odd sense of humor; but seems harmless enough when you're on his good side."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin walks back down the ramp of the Mirage and heads back to the bar. As he walks back in, he notes a few new faces before walking to the bar unconcernedly and ordering plain water, not in the mood for fermented grass at the moment. He nods as the BT places a mostly-clean bowl of water under the bar. He dips a hoof in and drinks, scanning the bar with his stalk-eyes.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __________
~Rathien~
Rathien bares his fangs in a rictus of pain as he feels like every cell of his body is burning at the same time. He can barely even hear Salem and has no idea that he's begun to morph. He remains silent and unmoving, aside from a convulsive shiver that is simply beyond his control. Finally the fog of pain begins to lessen and clear. He opens his eyes which have recovered almost fully from the previous flash and has to think for a moment before remembering where he is. He climbs to his hands and knees, the pain at least somewhat bearable now, and wraps his hands back around the handles of his fighting blades, snarling.
-
Terenia's eyebrows furrow. "Oh yeah. Al. He's the guy that came with the **** who attacked me for trying to kill Keshin."
She rolls her eyes a little at that, and is abut to respond to Parker's relationship comment, but then the door opens and a rather familiar Andalite strolls in.
"Oh, fantastic," she mutters. "Does he ever leave here?" She scowls down into her glass of water, not particularly interested in engaging Ossanlin in conversation.
-
"I haven't been here for very long, so I wouldn't know how long he's been here. I can't say he's too happy about me, after I told him I'm from a future where the Yeerks won." Jocun says. He still gives Ossanlin a light wave when he comes in, trying to keep things friendly.
-
Parker commented, "He does seem to enjoy the patrons here. Or perhaps he's hoping to see his female friend again?" He too nods to Ossanlin and comments, "Good to see you again Ossy."
He changes the subject for Terenia and asks her, "So, Terenia, how do you enjoy being fully Human again?"
-
Terenia toys with her tumbler of water as she considers. "It has disadvantages," she says at last, gesturing to the wide burn scar on her left shoulder. "I've missed my morphing ability on more than one occasion. But...other than that...it's been worth it. If nothing else to be out of Efaen's dapsen head. And to be able to be with Corliss and Mike without her commentary...it's definitely worth it."
-
"So you were an Andalite controller, and didn't get along with your host? I suppose, given the timeline, this was an involuntary relationship. Better to be past that and into a healthy partnership. I believe I met her earlier, but haven't seen her around in a while. I hope both of you have better lives now."
-
Terenia's expression darkens. "I doubt you saw Efaen here," she says flatly, glancing at Gene and emptying her glass. "Let's not talk about the dapsen Andalite. No good ever came from her."
-
"I forget if she said her name exactly."
<Should we tell her we have an escafil device?> Simon asked.
<I'm not sure. We don't just hand out the ability to morph to everyone with a battle scar.>
-
Parker rolled his eyes at Jocun again, "Another winner at topics." He replies to the earlier conversation, "Yeah, that ability definitely helps. So have you put a little more training into using your firearms then? I can help out with that if you'd like. I've used some weird energy weapons and I don't miss easily."
-
"I'm not the best shot," Terenia admits. "Definitely nowhere near as good as Corliss. It's kind of terrifying how good he is." She shrugs. "I can't really hold a Dracon in my left hand anymore. Took a Hork-Bajir blade to the back, and my muscles are still weak. But I could use some practice with my right, I guess. Couldn't hurt, right?" She smirks, a little ruefully.
-
Parker nodded, "A couple friends and I set up a firing range in the wood. We could go shooting if you'd like. How long have you been on becoming ambidextrous?"
-
"Your commentary is much appreciated, Parker, as unneeded as it is." Jocun said, stressing the word unneeded while trying to remain polite. He'd tell Parker he could just leave, though since Terenia seemed to like Parker better, she was likely to leave with Parker. "I have a top not medical facility if you want me to look at that wound, Terenia. I may be able to return more function to your arm."
-
"It's an old wound," Terenia says with a shrug. "It's already healed as much as it's likely to. We have a pretty damn good doctor ourselves. No offense, but I don't really trust people that aren't Sam poking around my war wounds. Especially people I just met."
She turns to respond to Parker. "I'm not, not really. I just always felt more comfortable having two weapons strapped to my holster instead of one. I've never been a very good shot with my left."
-
"I can understand if you don't trust me. I'm glad to know you have a good doctor. I just wanted to throw that out there, since our technology is over a century past what you've seen, and has integrated tech from every species in the galaxy. I'm a fairly good shot myself, but since I usually rely on bodyguards I can't say I'm an expert sharpshooter. The best I can say is I know how to handle a dracon, keep it in good working order, and not shoot myself with it."
-
Parker smiles at Jocun slightly and continues his conversation, "I understand that completely," he says as he points to the three rifles on his back that are all crossed by a samurai sword, "it's nice to have back-ups." He pats his thighs, "Lots of back-ups." He looks to Gene and asks, "You in Gene?"
-
As Salem morphed, his head seemed to clear- an unusual, and welcome, sensation. By the time the Kafit's many wings finally sprouted from his back- the last piece of the morph to take place- he felt nearly like himself again. He also felt extremely worn-out. He hadn't slept in... hours? Days? Weeks? However long it'd been, he was feeling it now. At least the majority of the pain was gone- a relief even in the unfamiliar bird body.
He finally managed to take stock of his situation. He was still mostly draped in his cloak and clothing. Rathien was still on the ground beside him. No telling how long that would last. Ideally, he'd try to squirm free of the clothing, fly off, and come back for it later, but he wasn't about to leave his equipment here for the hunter to pick over. With a weary sigh, he reversed the morph. His sharp beak almost immediately shlupped back into his face so fast it startled him.
By the time Rathien came to his hands and knees, Salem was around halfway through his demorph, and struggling to kick his way out of his cloak with his awkward, lengthening legs. When Rathien came up and snarled, Salem craned his bird neck to look at him with a head that was almost human. This was not good. He couldn't be in a more helpless position. He attempted to concentrate harder, to force the morph to move faster, with no noticeable success. All he needed was another minute or so.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien continues to bare his fangs, looking at the half-morphed Salem. It would be so easy...so easy just to snap his neck, take off his head...and then what? Die a horribly painful death? It might be preferable to what Tobias would have him do, and the death of the "trader" was certainly some commisseration....a lot of commisseration, but then it wouldn't really be death. Thienal had told him about some sort of "backup" unit onboard Salem's precious little ship. One that would allow him to reincarnate after a fashion. If Rathien were alive to destroy the ship after killing Tobias, that would be a moot point, but if Tobias's death would mean his as well...
He grudghingly sheathes his fighting blades. His fingers itch to grab his Entroper, but he keeps them away. He forces himself to his feet, pain still radiating from every part of him, but the pain seems to be ebbing more and more. Apparently Tobias didn't mean to kill him right away after all. He watches Tobias demorph with disdain.
-
Terenia blinks at Jocun's rapid manner of speaking. "Um. That's good. Knowing how to not shoot yourself is good," she says reluctantly.
"I can appreciate being well armed," she murmurs to Parker, raising her eyebrows a little. "But isn't there a such thing as overkill?"
-
Gene's eyes widen. "Oh," he says, holding up his hands. "I think I've fired a gun, of any kind, maybe a handful of times in my life--and not once was I in control of my own body while I was doing it." He smiles. "I'll watch."
-
Parker shakes his head at Terenia, "If you knew what I dealt with every day, you'd want more. The Covenant has seemingly an infinite amount of troops. There are so many different types of aliens in this Covenant. There's no such thing as overkill in my war."
He then shrugs to Gene and replies, "That's why we have firing ranges. You can shoot all day and not kill yourself or anyone else. Practice makes perfect."
-
"It can't hurt to have a little target practice. Lead the way, Parker." Jocun siad, finishing his meal and drink. Having a bit of alchohol in his system probably wouldn't effect him too much, since he was used to high class wining and dining.
-
~Raile~
Raile shrugs and gestures blandly with his glass as a noncommittal response. If Garreth says that these responses won't affect his actions in any way, even on the subconscious level, then there can be no discussion of danger. Perhaps he's right, if he has truly mastered every last facet of his mind, even his subconscious, that statement could have a slim possibility of being factual. Perhaps the statements will make Garreth take actions he is supposed to take to keep the timeline proper, and if one was to believe that, then there was simply no danger in anything Raile said, though Garreth seemed to believe both things...that information about his timeline's near future would cause him to skew away from proper actions, but that information on the future that would almost doubtlessly skew his actions in at least a minor way, would not be detrimental at all. This entire thought process passes through Raile's head in no more than a few seconds and he shrugs again.
"The way I see it Garreth, either nothing I say will damage your timeline as my actions will skew yours into where they are supposed to be to maintain history, or everything I say will damage your timeline as anything I reveal to you about my history, which we assume to be your future, will alter your path in some way, even if you don't know it. It's one or the other, there is no middle ground. So either we talk openly about my past and present, or avoid the subject entirely. It doesn't make sense to accept some information from your future and deny the rest. Quite frankly, your path has already been drastically altered by meeting me in the first place. If what I say and do with you can alter my present, then my present has already been destroyed irreparably. Yet I still exist, so I'm loathe to believe that. I'll leave the decision to you. I see no danger, but I wouldn't want to speak on something that might make you feel uncomfortable...tha t would simply be uncourteous and rude."
-
Garreth nods, "Yes, but there is a difference between your past and your history. Your past is a fine subject. It doesn't affect me in the slightest. I can't affect your past, I can however affect your history; hell, I am your history. So if we stay on the subject of your past and present and stay away from your history, we'll be fine."
Garreth decides to move the conversation along, "So, if the entire army is made of droids, what stops the enemy from overriding their programming?"
-
Esreth raises Terenia's eyebrows, smirking. "What, you're not going to let us finish our beer first?" she asks, taking a sip and remaining seated. "If I wanted to shoot things up, I would have taken the girl to an Imperial outpost or, you know, Earth."
<<It wouldn't be a terrible idea, getting lessons,>> Terenia argues.
<<Terenia, have you seen Corliss shoot a Dracon?>> Esreth asks rhetorically. <<If you really want to improve, just ask him to help. It'd make for an interesting date, that's for sure.>> She giggles inwardly, a sound that makes Terenia let out an internal sigh of exasperation.
-
Parker again ignores Jocun, accepting his presence, but not outwardly encouraging it. He replies to Esreth with a mirrored smirk of his own, "Of course. I never said when we had to go. Even so, I'm sure the bartender wouldn't mind if you took the drink outside. It, too, would prove a useful training goal. To make your shots with your firing hand, while keeping your drink stable. It would help you isolate your arms' movements and improve your ability to multi-task with weapons."
-
"Maybe I don't want practice," Gene murmurs uncomfortably, glancing at Terenia. "Are we really going to start shooting clay pigeons?" He snorts. "Or bottles, more like? I can't stay here forever, this was supposed to be a quick stop."
Hesitantly he eyes the bartender, who is staring blankly at the far wall. Gene clears his throat. "He's uh...cheerful."
-
Esreth looks at Gene in amusement. "Do Dracons really make you that uncomfortable?" she asks, laughing a little. "You must have had a hard time of it in the Empire. If it bothers you, we won't practice until you've, uh, completed your little supply run." Terenia's lips twist into a smirk. "In the meantime, I always enjoy some time with my best friend. You're always so busy, surrounded by your boys." She rolls her eyes dramatically, sinking back into her chair and casually sipping her drink.
"Parker, we'll take a rain check on the shoot out for now," she says, winking at him. "Don't worry, I'll make sure we get some time out there before Terenia and I leave."
-
"Yeah, let's wait until we're fully inebriated before we start using firearms." Jocun joked. Parker really didn't seem to care for him. Was it just because he had spoken to Keshin? He would probably try to talk with him personally later.
-
Salem scrambled to his feet as soon as he was able and faced Rathien, ready, as his body finished shifting back to its original self. He was naked, and exhausted, and his head still felt remarkably muddled, but he'd be damned if he was going down without a fight, should Rathien decide to attack.
Not taking his eyes from Rathien, he stooped down and grabbed his grav-pistol from its holster with his left hand, then gathered up his cloak and clothing with his right, holding them against his chest. Keeping Rathien in his peripheral vision, he walked towards the tree and grabbed his strange copper-colored gun, then straightened up and, unselfconscious, started moving cautiously in the direction of the bar.
-
Parker smiled when Esreth mentioned Gene aversion to dracon fire arms and withdrew his pistol from his left thigh. He brought it up spinning around his finger. As his hand neared chest-level, he grabbed the barrel mid-spin with his right hand and twisted it so the handle was pointing out and held it up to Gene, "Don't like the lasers? You could just use ballistics." He shrugged and let the pistol fall out of his hand. He snatched it mid fall with his left hand and placed it back on his thigh as he said, "But that's if you ever feel up to it."
After Esreth asked for the rain check, Parker lifted his hands in a minute surrendering gesture and replied, "It's alright. It was just a suggestion. Something fun to kill time and not dull our senses." He replies to Gene's assumption, "No, it's not bottles on a fence. A couple of friends and myself erected targets around a section of the forest. Some near, some far, others darting in and out. Though, we had plans to make a projectile thrower, it was never finished."
After Jocun's joke, Parker changed the topic again, "So, Gene, mind if I ask what brought you to your new friends?"
-
~Rathien~
Rathien continues to watch Salem demorph until he's fully human once more. He shakes his head, taking a deep breath. The situation was as it was, and Tobias had gotten the better of him, as much as that grated. But Rathien has always prided himself on his ability to adapt to and embrace new situations. Until the status quo can be changed, the situation would exist as it is, he might as well accept it.
After Salem's demorph is complete, Rathien makes no effort to hide his appraising inspection of the "trader's" nudity. He can't help but run his tongue over a fang with a bit of desire, as he always does with the sight of exposed flesh, whether male or female. After unabashedly giving Rathien a full view of both front and back, mostly front, to Rathien's enjoyment, Salem turns towards the bar after collecting his things. Rathien has little choice but to follow the "trader." He bites back a slightly scathing quip about Salem's apparent inability to morph clothing and decides to pursue a different tack.
"Seeing this side of you, Tobias, I can almost forget my burning desire to end your Dream in the most painful way imaginable." He grins malevolently at Salem's back. "So these so-called "nanites"...linked to your vital-signs...can they transmit other, shall we say, "sensations?" He raises an eyebrow at himself, but he is who he is after all, and since he cannot remedy the situation, he might as well make the most out of it.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________
~Raile~
Raile waves his glass and shakes his head. "Dedicated command signal transmitted from a geo-synchronous droid-control vessel. If the signal halts, the droids de-activate."
-
"I always make time for my best friend," Gene says, emphasizing the last phrase melodramatically.
He glances at Parker, watching his little display with a raising of an eyebrow. "Terenia might be a relatively new friend, all things considered, but I've been with the rebellion for the last seven years." Gene's amused smile falters a little, and he looks down at his hands. "I came there the usual way, because of a very dear Yeerk friend."
-
Esreth smiles, reaching over and patting Gene's hand. "And we're glad you did," she says with a reassuring smile. "My life would be much less amusing without you in it. On my list of ways to torment Terenia you are right near the top." She snickers a little, though her expression remains sympathetic.
-
Salem continued walking, but turned his head to look at Rathien, eyebrows raised. That wasn't what he was expecting. Was the hunter serious? Was he joking? Was that a come-on?
After a moment, Salem chuckled. That would be unexpected. It had been an awfully long time...
"Now there's an idea that I'm tempted to look into." He smiled wryly, still not remotely trusting the hunter, but glad for the moment to be talking rather than fighting. "Don't forget that I use these nanite things too."
As the bar came into sight, Salem glanced down at himself, and with a sigh, began to dress.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien smirks in a rather predatory manner as Salem turns to look back at him, and then shrugs reading the well-controlled expression of incredulity on Salem's face with practiced ease. "You have the advantage, and no amount of anger, frustration, b*tching, or complaining will change that. As long as I'm alive, I can adapt. You of all people should know how flexible I am. Well, maybe you don't know about it in certain regards...I think you'd be surprised." He licks his tongue over a fang again.
"I cannot kill you, but there are many things that exist between here and there." He chuckles deep in his throat, approaching Salem quite closely, and traces a single claw around the back of Salem's neck as the trader begins to clothe himself. He moves his mouth close to Salem's ear and whispers. "Have you ever thought what it might be like to lie with a wolf, Tobias?" He smirks again, still whispering. "The danger is half the fun." He moves his mouth to Salem's other ear, still whispering. "And the 'forbidden' nature of the things we could do...you may say you don't like danger, but you do. It...thrills you. I should know, I'm the same way." He nips at Salem's ear with a fang, just hard enough to cause a sharp sensation, not hard enough to draw blood, and steps back.
In a conversational tone, he continues. "Of course that remains to be seen, hmm? How am I to know you would actually be interested in such a proposal? After all, you are a master of deception...a chameleon. You hold all the cards unless these nanites work both ways. I cannot think you would be so...generous...as that. But then...even a collared wolf isn't tame." The devlish grin returns to his face.
-
Garreth looks perplexed, "Huh. Those must be very secure ships. Do you ever battle any actual life forms; or are they all just robots? They can't be all that much of a challenge, can they?"
Parker raises an eyebrow at Esreth's comment, but stays silent, appreciating the momtent. He waits a moment before asking, "See much, or are you in the filing department?"
-
~Raile~
"Most droids aren't that much of a challenge, you're right...but they come in hordes to try an Ithorian's patience. The newer-model battle droids were more difficult, mostly due to their rapid rate of fire and blast shielding. The most formidable are the droidekas, they have onboard shield generators." He takes another sip. "Of course the control units don't have to be onboard an orbiting ship, but it is the preferred method as they're out of reach of ground units. As for live assailants...the Sith I faced as a trial was quite alive, and there are mercenaries looking for credits, as always. And now the clones have turned on us..." He falls silent, taking a long pull from his tumbler.
-
"Half the time," Esreth says with a laugh. "The other half we do really basic mechanic work. We're not particularly great at it, but it's a nice change of pace from staring at a holoscreen all day. Terenia likes it. Gives her something to think about besides being angry and depressed."
<<And how annoying you are.>>
-
"I've heard that if you wish hard enough for something exciting to happen, you may get more than what you really want." Jocun said. "I'm glad I don't live during a war. I'm not sure I'd know what to do if a full scale invasion hit. Vissers have become more politician than generals."
-
Salem drew a sharp breath when Rathien nipped his ear. He'd only managed to dress halfway, his shirt and his silvery armor still in his hand. He was a long time removed from these sorts of games, and yet still managed to find the sensation strangely pleasurable, the images flashing through his head... exciting.
He looked at the hunter and ****ed his head. There was a threat buried in that offer as well, if he was reading this right. To lie with this "wolf," he knew, would be remarkably stupid, even by his standards... but there was no reason he couldn't enjoy this a bit. And it would allow him to avoid revealing any further information about his nanites than necessary.
He smirked and stepped closer to the hunter, reaching out a hand as he spoke, "So this would be wolf and chameleon, then." He traced a finger gently along Rathien's jawline, then down his neck to his collarbone, and continued walking, stepping around behind the hunter. "A game of danger and deception, pleasure and probably pain." His voice dropped to a whisper as his hand traced its way down Rathien's chest. He then gently pulled the hunter closer, pressing his bare chest ever so lightly against Rathien's back. He leaned in close enough that Rathien would be able to feel his breath on his neck and continued, in the quietest of whispers, "I suppose there is something endearing about the wolf pup that fancies itself ferocious."
He laughed and danced away from the hunter, saying "Maybe another time, Rathien. For now, I'm curious." He turned and began walking towards the bar again, pulling his shirt on as he spoke. "You want something from me. And if I'm seeing things right, Parker and that Jocun are in this with you. Any chance of getting you to spill the beans without being too exceptionally cryptic?"
-
~Rathien~
Rathien speaks as Salem draws a finger along his jawline. "Perhaps chameleon was the wrong animal...leopard might have been more fitting." He falls silent and stiffens as Salem walks around behind him. He wouldn't give the "trader" the satisfaction of nervousness. Complete control...
He growls deep in his throat as Salem calls him a "pup", his body tensing just a bit more at the contact, ready with any number of throws or steps to take him out of harm's way, until Salem's body retreats.
So, the ulterior motive might not work in his favor. This pursuit was almost as much to redress the balance between himself and Tobias as it was for the other. His ability to kill Tobias had been nullified, but that left a lot of room to wiggle. They would inevitably be spending a lot of time together until Rathien figured out how to change the status quo, but that didn't mean by any means that he had to be submissive. Asserting a bit of dominance would've gone a good ways toward leveling the balance, but Rathien sees now that Tobias might end up gaining the dominance.
Of course, the concept of bedding a mate that could just as soon kill you as rut with you is thrilling to Rathien. The danger adds to the power of the moment, and the ultimate pleasure at its climax. Such a pairing is nearly as pleasurable as ending a Dream at its Fate-ordained moment. And Rathien merely enjoys the act whether with a male or female, no matter the role he plays. He would never tell Tobias how much he'd enjoyed his role when stronger partners had forced him to submit in the past. He would snap and bite and claw the whole way, and the one doing the "forcing" would definitely have his or her work cut out, but Rathien almost enjoyed being taken more than doing the taking, perhaps because it was so different from his regular existence. And of course he would never tell Tobias how much of a turn-on it would be if the "trader", a worthy adversary in most regards and one that Rathien wanted to kill quite badly, would bed him and force him into the "receiving" position for the duration of the mating.
Rathien shakes his head, clearing the reverie. He hadn't allowed himself to wander so deeply in his own desires for quite some time. He performs mental exercises to reduce his heart-rate and clear the other responses his body has unwillingly taken in response to both Tobias's contact and his own mental reverie, both obvious and concealed. He had quickly lost control of that situation, and it might be a dangerous path to go down. Nevertheless he cannot rid himself of the strong desire for his daydreams to become reality. He schools his thoughts, pleasure was delightful, but to become its slave was another way to lose control.
He takes a few deep breaths to clear the air in his lungs and snarls to himself as he is once again forced to follow Salem like a dog on a lead. He shakes his head again, almost saying nothing, almost refusing to answer Salem's question. He decides it would be much too much like sullenness. "You apparently didn't see them shooting at me." Of course that could've been a ruse, one worthy of Tobias himself, but it is all the answer Rathien's willing to give...let Tobias make of it what he would.
-
Parker nods at Esreth. He had been waiting for Gene to say something; but he seemed out of it for a time. He asked Terenia, looking through her eyes, "You're free from enslavement, you have your original body back, you have a relationship with a good guy, you're paired with an agreeable parasite, and you have a decent role in the rebellion. If I may ask, what are you angry and depressed about?"
Garreth takes a drink from his glass and comments, "Well, pure numbers certainly help. Some of the droids have personal shielding? Too bad you can't adapt that onto a belt or pack and have your own personal shield. That does create a problem with attempting to reflect their blasters back at them. You'd have to time it perfectly to hit their weapon as it protrudes from its shield; and that's highly unlikely to happen. How do you normally take them out?"
-
"well, if it isn't one thing, it's another." Jocun said, ready to break the silence. He was sure she was in a better life than before, but certainly not an easy one. He wondered if she had spent so long in a negative state of mind that perhaps she just didn't know how to be happy anymore.
-
Parker glared and barked at Jocun, "Did I ask you? No. How about letting her answer before you burst in with more of your self-boasting tales? I'm having a conversation trying to catch up with my friend here; and getting to know a new one. I'm not talking to you, nor have I asked your opinion on anything. Either let the lady answer; or get the **** away from me."
Parker softened his face and said to Terenia and Esreth, "Sorry," and awaited an answer.
-
"Will you relax already? I'm not sure what your problem is, but apparently you need a good dose of calm the hell down. I'm trying to be nice and social too, but you've been nothing but condescending towards me for some reason."
-
Terenia's jaw clenches a little bit, first at Parker's question, then at the brief spat between him and Jocun. "I'd prefer not to discuss it," she says flatly. "Just because things are going well now that does not mean they have been like that my entire time within the rebellion. I asked Esreth into my head for a reason."
-
Parker ignores Jocun and just answers Terenia, "Well, change doesn't happen easy. It took me a long time to get acclimated to my situation in Morgan's universe. You just have to count the positive things in your life and focus on them. I mean, it must feel good to not have to worry that you're possibly be cut down every time you talk to your immediate supervisor, right?"
-
Jocun had hoped Parker would actually come out and say what the problem was, but then again he was also happy Parker didn't level his weapon at him. He sounded rational and caring to people he liked, and also seemed happy to make new friends, but also antagonistic towards perceived slights. Terenia was a hard one to talk to, though she was more approachable than Parker.
-
Terenia lets out a tight sigh. "That's true, I suppose. But focusing on the positive has never exactly been one of my strong suits. I'm not a particularly positive person."
She drops her gaze back to her beer, which she hasn't touched since regaining control, expression sullen.
-
"It's alright. change can take place over time, and as long as you take one step after the other in the right direction you'll do better over time. and when things get rough, lean on a friend or two every once in a while."
-
Parker leans forward slightly while Jocun spoke and asks, "But isn't that the upside to having the lively Esreth within you? You've been inside an opposing influence for so long; I doubt you've been able to concentrate on many positive thoughts for any amount of time." He dons a playful expression and asks Esreth, "Why haven't you been doing your job young lady?"
-
Esreth takes control again, but for once she isn't smiling. "Terenia came to me after she attempted suicide, and after a turelek destroyed her and Mike's unborn child," the Yeerk says evenly. Her tone is not as harsh as Terenia's might be, but it is protective. "The fact that she is alive and out of her quarters, that she has agreed to interact outside of the base at all, means that yes, I am doing my job. The fact that she no longer wishes to take her own life means, I think, that I have been doing it quite well. Optimism is still a long way off, I fear."
-
Parker's expression immediately vaporizes to being stoic. His mouth opens, but he stops breathing, not wanting to make a sound. He closes his mouth and lets the breath out of his nose silently. He swallows hard and looks past Esreth's eyes. He says quietly, "I'm sorry." His eyes pour with sympathy rather than embarrassment. He readjusts his gaze to meet Esreth's eyes and nods quickly with a silent "You're doing a good job." implication. He smirks and asks, "You're sure you don't wanna shoot stuff? Ballistics have an amazing therapeutic quality."
-
"I supposed something like that would cause you to seriously dislike Tureleks." Jocun said in a big understatement. "Simon and I are sorry for your loss. I'm glad that you're back out in the world, as I have enjoyed meeting you both."
-
Terenia responds, her mouth twisted into a scowl as she looks between Parker and Jocun. "I don't need sympathy from either of you. From any of you. And I don't need therapy either." She takes a deep swig of beer, her eyebrows drawn together. "And for the record, Jocun, I already had plenty of reasons to dislike tureleks. There aren't many reasons to like them, in my experience. The incident with Terliss just..." She cuts off, pressing her lips together, her surly expression briefly replaced with a pained one. "It just made it worse," she says at last, taking another drink.
-
Parker's expression darkened, insulted, and somewhat frustrated. He leaned against the bar, blocking Jocun from conversation. If he wanted to say anything, he'd have to speak over Parker's shoulder. He looks straight at her and says, "Hey, you want apathy and solitude, you go somewhere else. You don't go to a bar to get away from people. You especially don't go to a place potentially full of Humans and expect no one to care about you. There are enough people here that have either come to like you or help you in some other fashion, that you know what you get when you come here. We're not just going to sit here and let you stew in your self-loathing.
"No, you don't need sympathy; but it's given freely to help soften the pain. I never said you needed therapy. I said you would do well to have a positive influence rather than constant opposition; and I only meant shooting stuff felt good. It helps you work through the **** stored in your head. Envisioning the destruction of those things that hurt you. What is left for you other than to try to recover and move on? Focusing on your future rather than your past. I spent the better part of a year trying to get back here to a woman I thought loved me. When I finally get here, she was excited to see me; but afterward seemed to ignore me. I haven't seen her since. Do you see me skulking around? No. I focus on what's next. You need to get out of your head and look at what's in front of you; not what's behind you."
-
Terenia stiffens at his words, her eyes slowly narrowing into a glare. <<Don't,>> she says sternly to Esreth when she senses the Yeerk about to take control.
"I'm sorry you lost someone you loved. I'm sure that was so difficult for you," she says hotly, knuckles whitening around the bottle of beer. "I'm sure that's just as troubling as being blackmailed and manipulated into carrying a child just to have it murdered when its presence was no longer of use. I'm sure it's up there with being infested by an Imperial and forced to betray everyone you care about."
She pushes the bottle away so forcefully that it topples over onto the bartenders side of the bar, clattering off the ground and earning her a blank stare as she gets to her feet, the stool scraping loudly. "I didn't come here for sympathy or pity. I don't want it. I'm not stuck in my head, I'm not skulking and I don't f*cking need lessons in how to cope with my losses."
Practically vibrating with her fury, Terenia turns to stalk away.
-
Parker stands, collects his helmet, and goes to follow her, "I'm not comparing my pain to yours. If you want to compare notes on pain; I far outrank you. I have so many deaths on my head, you would drown. I've grown up with death since I was 8 years old. No, I don't know the pain of losing a child; but what I'm saying is that it doesn't matter. You deal with it the same as any other. Yes, it weighs on you, yes you remember it; but you still move on. You can't let your past control your future."
-
She stops short, turning to glare at Parker. "And what the hell gave you the idea that I was?" she asks pointedly. "What do you think I do, mope around in my room all day? Why the hell do you think I asked Esreth to infest me, if not to help me move on? And why in the name of God is it any of your business how I cope with things!?"
-
Parker ignores the last question, it's rarely a question that can be answered correctly. Instead he answers, "By the fact that you still push people away when your problems come up. Instead of accepting what little they give, and moving on in the conversation; you shove people away rudely. This whole conversation could've just moved along if you had accepted our condolences and changed the topic; but no, you had to prove your strength and isolate yourself from any kind of outside positive reinforcement. You've made great progress by requesting Esreth, you have; but it's only regression when you reject all other forms of assistance so rudely. If you didn't want to talk about it, you could've let the topic go at any moment; but you decided to bath in it and make it an issue."
-
Gene clears his throat, lost in thought after discussing the loss of his Yeerk. He'd been scratching little lines in the soft, pliable lacquer on top of the bar counter with a fingernail.
He looks up at Terenia's outburst, then turns his attention to Parker. "Leave the girl be, Parker, my friend," he says softly, going back to peeling at the cracks in the bar surface. "She's been through...a lot lately." He smirks. "I guess that's obvious."
-
<Terliss. Did we meet a Terliss?> Jocun wondered
<Wasn't that Aya's Yeerk?>
Jocun's eyes widened as he recognized who that was, and looked around the room self consciously, as if Aya was still sitting at the bar or at a far corner. <Make a note not to go near them again. As nice as it was to meet Aya, we don't want Terenia to see us talking with her.>
He barely noticed Parker's attempt to block him from seeing Terenia in his continuing efforts to make Jocun leave, and soon they were walking away, debating over who had the worse problems. He considered following to try to diffuse the situation, but Terenia seemed not in the mood for any sort of pity party. Fortunately Gene spoke up, saying what Jocun wanted to say anyway.
"Well this meeting has spiraled downhill." He said casually to Gene. "I didn't mean to be offensive, but showing sympathy is the standard response to someone saying something horrible happened to them. Even if I'm not emotionally invested in her affairs. I mean, what else do you say to that, and not come off as rude or worse?"
-
Parker turned to Gene and said matter-of-factly, "Her whole life has been a lot. I may not know the specifics, but I can appreciate the symmetry. I realize we're two very different people; but nothing changes if everyone sits idly by enabling a person's implosion."
He gives Terenia a defeated expression and says, "At least don't walk away. We don't have to keep talking about anything; but don't leave."
-
Esreth takes control again with a sigh, "Parker," she says, unballing Terenia's hands from their fists and giving him a small smile. "I understand your intent, but trust me when I say that Terenia's progress is going to be a slow one. It is not merely a case of bad things happening to her. She has suffered from depression since she was a child, and it goes deeper than her experiences."
She moves back towards the table, still smiling, though it is a strained look. "As for her response to your sympathy...you have seen her here before, you know that she tends to be a reactionary person. It is in her nature to be...somewhat abrasive at times."
-
Parker nods to Esreth and says, "I know." He looks past her eyes and says to Terenia, "Just know you don't have sulk alone. Isolation isn't always the answer." He nods at Gene, "We'll be here if you feel like talking again." His gaze shifts back to Esreth's eyes and says with a smile, "I hope to continue our conversation as well, don't be too long." Parker stays where he is, hoping Terenia will join them again and not walk away. He waits for Terenia's movement before he makes his own.
-
<<I like how he assumes that if I'm going to talk to someone I'm going to choose him,>> Terenia seethes silently. <<I barely know him!>>
<<An assumption and an offer are not the same things, Terenia,>> Esreth murmurs. She gives Parker a small smile. "I need to replenish my drink," she says, moving back to her abandoned stool and waving the bartender over. She stays firmly in control, for the time being.
-
Jocun didn't want to follow Terenia, as she obviously needed space. He didn't know if it was a good time to talk to Parker about what made Jocun rub him wrong. He poked around his plate with his fork for any last morsels of food, mulling things over.
-
Parker smiled and sat back down in his seat. He kept his helmet on his lap, holding it to his leg with his left hand. He reclaimed his drink and finished off his glass. He holds up the empty glass as a signal to the bartender and says, "Another clean one if you would."
He sets the glass down and asks Gene, "So Gene, if I may ask, what do you do to keep busy on the base?" He hopes to get the conversation back on track; maybe move past what had just happened.
-
Jocun wanted to talk to Parker, and even though Gene apparently wasn't very chatty right now, Parker had blown up at him that last time he made an idle comment.
<Don't bother him. He's unimportant.> Simon said.
<It bothers me, though. Is it really just about Keshin, or is he bothered by something else?>
<If he has a problem with you, then he's the one that has to deal with it. He's not a rebel. He's not a super close friend of Terenia. He's unimportant.>
-
"We work," Esreth replies for Gene with a shrug. "A lot." She replenishes her beer and looks around the bar, keeping a close eye on Ossanlin nearby.
<<Don't you dare try to chat him up,>> Terenia says of the Andalite.
<<Why not? You're curious.>>
<<Not curious enough to start conversation with him,>> she responds. <<That never goes well for me.>>
<<He gave you your body back,>> Esreth counters simply.
-
Gene sighs as Terenia steps off toward the bar.
He shrugs at Jocun. "I'm sorry, dude. Wish I could help you there."
To Parker he replies, "Yeah, pretty much what she said." He jerks a thumb toward Terenia and Esreth. "Never-ending cycle of work, eat, sleep." Gene rolls his eyes. "I guess once in a while we do get to have a little fun."
-
"I guess it can be hard to find a quiet moment in war. I'm glad you guys found at least one place where you can relax, though obviously complete relaxation isn't possible at the bar. Maybe some other place is, though if my history is correct, Yeerk and Andalite forces are scattered around about every nook and cranny of the galaxy. Being on the bad side of both forces makes for a hard life. Here's to keeping on living." He said, raising his drink. He ordered some more when he realized how little was in the glass.
-
Parker nods his head, "I understand that completely." He nods his head toward Terenia and asks Gene, "So she's a mechanic. What do you do? Unless it's confidential, of course."
-
Gene laughs lightly, shaking his head. His brown curls spring back and forth. "No, it's hardly confidential," he says with a grin. "I'm a mechanic, too. At least, I was always good with machines, and my Yeerk was, too. I've stuck with it. Not sure I'd be much use to the rebellion otherwise." He notes Jocun ordering a drink and glances over at the bar counter, drumming his fingers on the surface.
-
Parker nodded his head, he laughed and asked, "I bet you don't have to worry about breaking down anywhere, huh?"
-
"Only when it's impossible to get out and fix a flat," Gene says with a smirk. "The whole 'space' thing. Anyway, I'm not nearly as good as Kellim was." He bites his lip. "He taught me the ropes, when it comes to all this Yeerkish stuff."
-
Parker smiled, "I understand that. Before I found this place, I had never been paired with an A.I. before. So it was weird having Thor inside my head for a while. It was nice, but weird. When I lost him when I was stranded, I definitely missed him." He glances at Terenia, "It's nice having someone else in there sometimes other than yourself."
-
Gene blinks. "Excuse me, 'Thor'?" he asks blankly. His eyes slide to Terenia. "Is he telling me that he has a Norse god in his head?" he whispers loudly.
-
Jocun chuckles. "I doubt the guy is a Norse god."
-
Parker smiles and extends his arm to Gene as though he's going to shake his hand; but keeps rotating his hand so his palm faces upward. A hologram of a man appears in a kneeling position, his right arm resting on his knee, and his forhead resting on his forearm. His left hand holds a short-handled hammer with its head on the ground, and his hand on the handle like a cane. The man raises from his earlier stance now standing tall, about 7". As the hologram speaks, a voice comes out of Parker's helmet's speakers.
"I am Thor. Nice to meet you."
Parker smiles. It's been so long since he had seen Thor's ridiculous entrance. He actually missed it.
-
Salem glanced over his shoulder at Rathien as he reached the door of the bar. "Oh, I noticed. I also noticed just how poorly they were shooting," he said, half to himself. Without waiting for a response, he opened the door and glanced around the bar. "And how they seemed to know you were there before you did," he muttered to himself, quietly enough that Rathien might not be able to make it out.
Things seemed to have quieted down significantly inside. He did see Jocun and Ossanlin, though, the two people he needed to speak to.
He stepped inside and, after a brief search, found his briefcase-like case under a table. He frowned as he reached underneath to grab it- had he even been sitting at a table? He managed to smack the back of his head on the edge of the table as he stood up, but bit his tongue to avoid cursing in front of the War Prince. Ossanlin would already be unhappy with him, he had no doubt- there was no sense in making it worse.
Rubbing the back of his head, he walked up to Jocun. "Hey," he said, a weary smile on his face. He really was starting to feel worn-down. "I think I got pulled away for other business. I'm sorry. I think I owe you for those scans you let me take." He popped the latches on his case. "What would you say to a personal Dracon modification?"
-
Jocun was peering around to see Thor, wondering if it was a sentient being or just a program, when he heard the bar door. Salem walked in, going for something of his. He gave a disapproving look when Salem came to him. "What in the hell was going on earlier? Why would you open fire in the building like that? Why don't you tell me what the deal is between you and the other guy, and why you're so kill happy against each other?"
-
Gene stares down at the little hologram.
"Holy ****," he blurts, wide-eyed. "It's like a little Star Wars hologram."
He leans forward, scrutinizing. "You can hear me?" he asks the sentient program.
-
Terenia freezes when she sees Salem. Definitely a familiar face, and not with good memories. Her lip curls upward into a snarl, and Esreth quickly jumps into control.
"Salem, right?" she says, scooting forward in her chair. "Long time, no see. Provided sanctuary to any murdering tureleks lately?" Esreth smiles brightly, but there is a bite to her smile.
-
Not sure if this is where I would/should post a character bio but since its the story I will, sorry if I'm wrong. I also posted in the OOC
Name: Connor NightHawk
Age:24
Race: Human with morph abilities
Description: Connor is 6'0 and about 210 lbs. He has dark brown hair with streaks of Blond from being out in the sun a lot, that he usually keeps tied back with a piece of leather. His eyes are grey and seem to see things about people or at the very least make them think he can. He wears a black leather vest with a hood, usually with no shirt under it. For pants he wears a pair of black cargo pants that he usually wears tucked into a pair of steel toed combat boots. He has tanned skin and defined muscles from all his time outside(see bio). His most distinguishing marks are his two full sleeves of tattoos, the one on his right arm starts at the shoulder with a few significant military pieces that he got when he served in the Navy, and it begins again his shoulder with conjis(sp) stating the different types of martial arts he studied and what degree he is now.His left arm is a dark depiction of good vs evil that extends from his shoulder to his wrist. He doesn't know why but they return when he demorphs.
Bio: Connor grew up in rural Wisconsin, on a farm with only his father and uncle as his mother had died giving birth to him. He spent his youth and teens until he was 18 working the farm while going to school, the work helped greatly improve his muscles and body tone. At the age of 18 he followed in his father and uncles foot steps and joined the military, the navy to be exact. He worked in intelligence gathering. After 5 years he left to pursue his dream of working with federal law enforcement. It was at this time that me me an Andalite who told him about the war, and gave him the morphing ability. From then out his life changed as it had when he was in the military, the only problem was this time he really didn't have a lot of people that had his back, for all he knew any at all. It took him 6 months just to begging to start this guerrilla war. He didn't know how much of a dent he put into the Yeerks but he hoped it was enough. Now two years into it he finds himself at the GESB not knowing where he is, when he is or how he got here.
Favorite morphs: Wolf and Guerrilla(sp)
-
Connor popped in outside of this building, not really flashy but not non descript. He did not know where he was or how he had gotten there. The best thing he could think to do was walk inside and try to get some answers. He opened the door and was taken aback at the sight, so many people different speices all mingling together, this was not something he knew about, at all. "Umm excuse me, can someone tell me where or what this place is or how I got her here," he called out apprehensively.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin watches the bar patrons with his stalk-eyes. He notes Terenia clearly trying to avoid him, and Salem slinking back in looking a bit worse for the wear. Another strange human enters the bar clearly confused about his whereabouts, most-likely another controller. It's unlikely a human would be able to find the bar without extraterrestrial aid of some sort. And the feral humanoid follows Tobias in in an unlikely turn of events, apparently the two were not going to kill each other after all. He watches silently, not engaging anyone in conversation. Serid must still be aboard the Mirage, and Claxter must be out feeding or enjoying the fairly fresh air.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ________
~Rathien~
Rathien shakes his head and follows Tobias in. He certainly wasn't responsible for others' marksmanship ability. Besides, the armored humanoid had hit him. If he'd been using some sort of energy weapon instead of an archaic slug-thrower, the damage would likely have been much worse.
Rathien surveys the bar, seeing many familiar faces (including both the controller and strange armored human) sitting around the bar, and a few unfamiliar ones. He glances at the door as another human walks through, asking after his location. He raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. The guy isn't unattractive, in fact pretty much every humanoid in the bar has potential. He almost follows Tobias, but decides against it, favoring a trip to stand next to Terenia. He orders a drink and gives Terenia a winning smile. "So, Empire or Rebellion?" He continues to grin.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _
~Raile~
Raile shrugs and takes another drink. "They have to drop the shields in order to move, but it depends upon the situation. Environment, heavy cannons, The Force, or sometimes we simply retreat."
-
Esreth jerks visibly at being addressed by the stranger, and she turns away from Salem, not quite ready to let Terenia take control again.
"Those aren't the only two options, you know," she says with a small smile, trying to be polite despite the fact that he clearly puts her on edge. "And I'm not likely to go around blurting my affiliations out with strangers unless they give me a good reason to. Although, I suppose you'll be hard pressed to find a true Imperial soldier here."
She raises her eyebrows a little. "Just a hunch, but I take it you affiliate with neither."
-
Jocun tensed up when Rathien stepped into the room, and hardly noticed the new guy. He pulled out his dracon, and held it close to his lap. "We're not going to start this over, are we?" He asked Salem quietly, but pointedly. He raised an eyebrow when Esreth talked about "true" Imperials. What was he then?
<Eh, you know what she means.> Simon said. <And don't you get trigger happy, or you'll wind up starting the very thing you don't want Salem to start again.>
-
Connor walked to the bar, he seen an Andalite and headed that way, before saying, "Im Connor, would you be able to helpe me out here?"
-
Thor looks directly into Gene's eyes and says, "Of course I can." His voice is steady and monotone. He has an aristocratic british accent not unlike a butler. He continues, "There are microphones located on the suit I inhabit. Furthermore, there are sensors I have access to that allows me to read your lips. I am currently processing over six conversations in the vicinity as we converse."
Parker lowers his hand and grabs his drink. Thor stays exactly where he was, now standing on nothing. Parker calls out, "Okay Thor, yes or no will be fine. No need going too far into detail." Parker really didn't want everyone knowing that last bit of detail.
Thor bows his head slightly and apologizes, "Of course sir." He looks back to Gene and says, "Yes."
Parker hangs his head shakes it. When Tobias enters the bar followed by the Ildari. He furrows his brow, confused. Judging by the tone, it was Esreth who approached him. Then the Ildari approached her. At the same time, a newcomer entered the bar. He was covered in tattoos. He was too distracted to really observe them. He looked to the bartender and asked, "This the dinner rush?" The bartender just looked back flatly.
Parker leaned over and asked Tobias while nodding toward the Ildari, "Is he gonna play nice?"
-
Salem narrowed his eyes as he glanced back and forth from Jocun to Parker. Were they acting here, or legit? Still no way to tell for sure. After a moment, he shrugged and said quietly, "I think we're okay for now. We just had a few differences we needed to work out. He and I have a bit of a history," he said, and looked at Jocun. "It's a long story." He wondered how bad he looked. The morphing had healed his injuries quite nicely, but he felt exhausted an extremely frazzled.
He began rummaging through the pockets of his cloak, which was currently draped over his arm, and raised his voice a bit to answer... Terenia, it seemed. That was less than thrilling. Things weren't as tense between them as they'd been earlier, but she was obviously a long way from accepting. Oh well. Might as well play this up a bit.
"Hello again, Terenia," he said. "Nah, the only tureleks I've met recently, I should probably be looking for sanctuary from." He looked pointedly at Rathien, smirking, as he said it.
He finally managed to pull his persona scanner from his cloak pocket- it was a device resembling a remote control. Both it and his hand were red with partly-dried blood from inside the pocket. With a sigh, Salem picked up a couple of napkins and did his best to wipe off both the scanner and his hands. After a moment, he seemed to give up- the scanner was mostly clean, but his knuckles remained red. He deposited the crumpled napkins on the bar counter.
He turned his attention back to the scanner- he fiddled with it for a moment, then pointed it at the man conversing with Thor and clicked a button, causing it to trill. He clicked it twice more; once at the newcomer who'd approached Ossanlin, and after a moment's hesitation, at Thor.
-
Thor's sensors picked up the scanner as it was being drawn. He couldn't tell how it worked unless he was able to get a part of himself in there. He simply resolved to blink out the very moment he was being scanned. It would be nanoseconds that he needed to successfully dodge the reader, so it wouldn't register visually that he had indeed turned off and on again. If the scanner was persistant, then Thor's hologram would continue to blink for every scan detected. If the scanner had hit his hologram, it should only read that it was mereley a visual projection. Thor knew no real onformation of consequence could be gleaned from a successful scan; but he didn't know this foreign scanner, and didn't want to take any chances.
Parker nodded, he sat back and took a drink of his water. He lifted his helmet off of his lap and replaced it back on the bar. He didn't want to interject in any of the other conversations. Suddenly Thor looked at Parker. Parker ****ed his head and put his helmet back on. Thor spoke up inside Parker's helmet, <<Sir the new patron to this bar has an interesting marking on his person. Parker cut his external speakers off and asked him, "What is it?" Before he could get the word "it" oit, a picture of the man showed on his heads up display. It was of him walkinf past Terenia and the Ildari. Thor enlarged a section of one arm and isolated a tattoo. It was a ranking insignia of the NAVY.
Parker's eyes widen, "Huh, Nice catch."
-
"Well just don't start blasting at him again when people are around." Jocun said. "I don't know about a dracon upgrade. I don't have any specific ideas of what I might want right now. Though an invisibility device might prove useful. Our scientists haven't done much in the way of personal invisibility devices."
-
Terenia's eyes widen a little. "He's a turelek?" Esreth asks Salem, then immediately rounds on Rathien, turning the question on him. "You're a bounty hunter?"
<<Okay, I'm ready to leave,>> Terenia says flatly. <<This is more than enough.>>
<<Right, because every single turelek in the galaxy is out to get you,>> Esreth reasons.
<<They might be.>>
She rolls her eyes, but says nothing else.
-
"Jeez," Gene breathes. "I never thought I'd meet a little talking holographic man." His eyes are as wide as dinner plates.
He sits back and mulls this over thoughtfully, his eyes tracking to Terenia at her seat, as a comfort point.
-
Thor replied, "I've never experienced so many others so unfamiliar with artificial constructs, we both seem to be having new experiences." He gestures over his avatar and mentions, "I chose the visage of the Norse mythological being mostly to inspire those soldiers I interacted with. We are in a time of war, and it helps to have a warrior at your side than an 'Alfred' I believe I was referred to once by my last Captain. It seems my speech pattern matches that of a fictional butler that attends to a Hero of some reknown."
When Esreth questions the Ildari, Parker snaps his attention to their conversation, looking in their direction. He keeps seated as they are standing almost right in front of him. He re-activates his helmet's speakers and waits to see how the scene plays out. He wants to investigate this sailor; but being a bounty hunter, Terenia just may become this Ildari's new target. Parker scrolled through the text of previous conversations Thor kept track of and noticed the small interchange previously had by those two. He was interested in her. Possibly trying to confirm her identity and take her. Parker tensed slightly, though nothing visibly changed about him as he sat. With his helmet now on, he put his glass of water on the bar.
Garreth nodded, "I haven't had that much experience with fighting droids. My experience is just with astromechs. Their shielding is not so advanced as that. Not that it has to be."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin swishes his tail lazily over his back as the strange human approaches. He turns his main eyes on the man as he speaks. <Well I suppose that depends. Are you an Imperial supporter or a rebel?> His tone of thought is without malice, but his slightly glowing sky-blue eyes tend to have a piercing quality about them. He continues staring at the new human, waiting for a response. Not that he'd kill the man if he was being controlled by an Imperial, but he certainly would not provide aid should that be the case.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __________________
~Rathien~
Rathien shrugs. "It seems to be about the only two choices for a Yeerk unless they happen to live on your Homeworld. Seems you need either an Imperial insignia or a Rebel affiliation to get your palps on Kandrona." He ****s his head, still smiling toothily, his fangs clearly visible as Salem speaks. He puts on an innocent look and shrugs again. "I prefer Hand of Fate, but I've been known to make a living as an assassin. Not that I'd kill such a pretty thing as yourself...or should I say 'someone as pretty as your host'?" He leans against the bar counter, signaling the BT for a renewed beverage. "That's assuming you even have a bounty on your head." He flashes his eyes at Salem before returning them to Terenia again. "And I'm not the only one here who's skilled in the Ending of Dreams."
The BT brings his drink and he smiles again, taking a sip of the strong liquor. "I'm affiliated with whomever I wish to be affiliated at the time that I'm affiliated with them." He runs his tongue over a fang before continuing. "Rathien'd'ilarianiil fen'Mirwindrierien or'Elienal sen'Ildiar, but you can call me Rathien if you want. I've seen you here before, but I'm afraid I never got either of your names..."
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _____
~Raile~
Raile raises an eyebrow at Garreth. "Why on Coruscant would you have to fight astromech droids?"
-
Connor let out a breath almost frustrated but not before saying, "If by Imperial you mean Yeerk, then consider me a Rebel. If thats not what you mean, then I do not know"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin raises an eyebrow. <You are not a controller? How in the Homeworld did you get yourself lightyears out into space?> He absorbs another drink of water from the bowl at his hoof, his tail still swaying back and forth, but in a more relaxed manner.
-
"That I wish I knew, I was actually hoping you could tell me. But as for me being a contoller, that I am not. Believe it or not, I sort of fight them... with an Andalites help well hes no longer here but he gave me a gift he passed."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin arches both eyebrows in mild surprise. <It would be highly abnormal for any andalite to grant morphing capabilities to anyone not of our race. Is that what you mean?> He takes another drink of water, falling silent for a moment. <What was his name?> Of course he knew of Elfangor...that was almost common knowledge now, and while most of the Electorate disapproved of his actions, they had all agreed he had taken the only course open to him, dangerous and risky as it had been. Ossanlin knew of no other andalites besides himself that had even taken notice of Earth. The fleet was engaged in other systems...what was left of it, and his own most-recent visit had been both secretive and brief. He watches Gene and Terenia with his stalk eyes.
-
<<I don't like him,>> Terenia says. <<Let's go. Between him and Salem, I'm liking this place less and less.>>
Esreth, on the other hand, is curious, and the flattery that makes Terenia uneasy only serves to kindle that curiosity. She watches Rathien for a long moment. "I'm Esreth," she says when he finishes. "My host is Terenia." When she mentions this she glances over to Ossanlin, not sure if he is listening in or not. The last time he saw Terenia she had still been uninfested. The same went for Salem. Carefully, she gauges them for a reaction while she continues speaking to Rathien. "And...technically all Yeerk rebels have a bounty on their head, although I don't suppose I've pissed off any specific individuals to the point of singling me out."
She pauses to sip her drink.
"That's quite a long name, Rathien," she says conversationally. "Longer than an Andalite's even. What are you exactly?
-
Parker overhears the Ildari finally give his name. "Rathien" he had said. He certainly was something new. Of course most of the inhabitants of this place were new to Parker. Before he came here, if it wasn't Human, it was usually trying to kill you. He kept silent watch over Rathien and Esreth's coversation. Though they both introduced themselves, he didn't much feel like getting to know this Rathien. If Parker wasn't going to kill him, then he'd just be tolerated for now.
While the two conversed, Parker began overhearing the newcomer's conversation with Ossanlin. He and Ossanlin weren't too far away, so he didn't have to read the transcript Thor was producing.
-
His name was "Eltair, thats all he told me whether it was a last name or a first, I am not sure," Connor said. While he was talking to Ossalin his eyes scanned the crowed at the bar
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin grimaces a bit. <I can't say I've heard of him. I suppose I can't know everything.> He hears Terenia, or rather her controller, mention that she's infested and files it away. Perhaps the lack of voices was too silent for her.
<This is a dimensional nexus known as the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar, and none of us really know why we've been allowed into its demesne. This place is a crossroads of alternate realities and different time periods, although most return to the place from which they came when they leave. Most of us arrived in our own ships, but I'm afraid if you don't know how you got here, I can't really help you. I don't know of anyone planning to visit Earth at this point.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ______
~Rathien~
Rathien nods, taking another sip of his liquor without breaking eye-contact. "A pleasure to meet you both, though there's always more pleasure to be had." He chuckles a bit before continuing. "Yes, I gave you my true name, which gives you much more information than you probably know. I'm surprised you haven't heard of my race though...I'm an Ildari."
-
Gene blinks at Thor's little rant. "Well, sure, I guess 'Alfred' is...sort of a..." He clears his throat. "'Thor' is a much better name," he finishes lamely, hunching in his seat.
-
Connor looked at the Andalite with a confused look, "so besides alien planets and wars, there are now alternate versions of us and different time lines?" He grabbed the closest chair, and sat down, this was all to much. "So I could be out of my univerese and time for all I know." He ran this fingers through his hair and let out an exasperated breath. "Awesome," he said sarcastically, then he changed his tone "Is there anyway of contacting earth to find out it if this is my dimension?"
-
Salem tried for a moment to stuff his persona scanner back into the pocket of his cloak, thought better of it, and set the scanner on top of the wadded cloak on the bar. He'd deal with that whole mess later.
Salem smiled at Jocun, "Invisibility device... um... not sure what I could drum up in exchange for just some scans..." he opened his case and rummaged around inside for a moment before looking back up at him. "Unless Yeerks in your time have gotten better in the use of magic?" He pulled out a crystal, just large enough to fit in the palm of his hand, and held it up for Jocun to see. It was a transparent yellow in color, long and thin, pointed at both ends. The eight-sided crystal glimmered, catching light that didn't even seem to be there.
He continued paying attention to Terenia's conversation- more on account of Rathien than Terenia. When 'Esreth' introduced himself, Salem blinked in surprise, then shrugged. He could never seem to keep track of who this girl was, or who was in her head. Hi picked up his persona scanner, clicked it- discreetly, he hoped- at Terenia, and set it back down. He then turned to the man speaking with Thor and Terenia.
"Esreth, I don't believe we've met. I'm Salem." He offered a hand to Gene and nodded at Terenia, putting on his best winning smile. "Pleased to meet you both."
Al had been watching Salem since he came back in, followed by Rathien. Either something was very wrong, or Salem had succeeded. He was anxious to speak with him, but this was one subject he thought better brought up without so many people around.
He smirked to himself. Usually Salem was the antisocial one.
-
Thor moved aside as Tobias's hand came past him. He gave an appreciative bow to Gene and said, "Thank you, I agree. It was nice to make your acquaintance." He then disappeared.
Parker mentally sighed at Connor's question about whether he was still in his universe. He then stood up and crossed between Rathien and Terenia, watching Rathien as he passed. He approached Connor and said, "Sorry sailor, you're no where near your universe. This place exists in all universes and Times. I extremely doubt if it even has a universe of origin. Personally, I'm of the opinion this place is it's own universe." He extends his gauntleted hand toward Connor and said, "Lieutenant Parker, designation SPARTAN-821. Nice to meet you PO2."
Garreth raised a confused eyebrow. He thought for a moment and replied, "No... I meant my only experience with any type of droid are astromechs. I haven't met any droids that fight. I know, of course, other types of droids; but I don't have much contact with them. I couldn't imagine seeing an entire army of droids. It must seem blinding, all that reflective metal."
-
Connor stood for the officer and said "Makes no sense to me, but then again a lot of this space stuff does sir, nice to meet you too." He extended his hand and said "Im not quite familiar with that designation or the uniform sir, but Im out now, so please call me Connor or if you feel military enough by my last name NightHawk"
-
"Yeerks don't have a very strong opinion of magic. Not many have encountered it, or at least been able to show that it really exists." Jocun said, looking at the crystal.
-
"Ildari..." Esreth muses, then shakes her head. "No, that doesn't ring a bell. Must not be from my side of the galaxy." She gives Rathien a little wink, entirely choosing to ignore the unsettled feeling he gives Terenia. "So, what brings you to the bar, Rathien?"
-
~Rathien~
Rathien shrugs and nods toward Salem. "I suppose Tobias was the original reason. It seems to be a rather interesting place though."
Rathien smiles a bit. "Well I've worked for Andalites and Imperials alike, but I suppose not every Yeerk is apprised of such relatively unimportant events. Not many of my species leave Ildiar so I suppose it's not that surprising that you've not heard of us. They're a bunch of peaceful philosophers, the lot of them. Boring if you ask me, but then they consider me genetically inferior. They were as happy about my leave-taking as I was, I just couldn't stand their attitude. So I've come out and about and learned things they'll never know." He takes another sip of his liquor.
-
Parker shook the man's hand and nodded saying, "Fair enough 'Civilian Connor'. I guess the military isn't for everyone. No, neither the designation, nor the armor are standard in any way. I'm a part of the SPARTAN-II program; and this armor can only be operated by someone like me. If you or any other person attempted to use it, it would tear them apart. I was genetically and surgically altered to enhance my strength, mind, and reflexes. Some would say we SPARTANs are super-Human; others just call us freaks. We call ourselves soldiers. Ready to fight and die for the Human right to survive.
"This armor specifically though is even more rare among other SPARTANs. It denotes honor and status." he nods backward toward the hilt of his Katana, "The sword is again even more prestigious than the armor itself."
Parker changes the subject, "So, you just popped in here too, huh? We've got a few patrons like that. What were you doing before you ended up here?"
-
Connors head hurt a little bit, with all the information he was taking in "Spartans, katanas, alternate demensions its all a lot to take in, but as for me I was actually just headed back from the bar when I appeared outsided. So if they take my money here can I buy you a drink, one navy man to another?"
-
Parker shook his head and nodded backward, "Sorry civvy, but with the company we've got in close proximity right now, I don't feel too comfortable taking off my helmet." He leans a little closer and says, "Besides, I'm already on someone else's tab. Luckily for him, I'm not too big on drinking a lot," he taps his helmet, "dulls the senses."
-
Connor tensed for a minute upon hearing the fact there eas something around here that could be up to no good. "I can appreciate that sir. Maybe I could help you figure out what is going on, I can get to places most cant without being seen"
-
Parker shook his head again, "No need. I know what's going on. The question is, is it going to blow up; or are the two going to play nice? You'll find out, should you stick around long enough, this place can get noisy fast." He then commented, "I appreciate the offer though."
Parker nodded toward Ossanlin and asked, "So, where's your lackey? I haven't seen him in a while."
-
Esreth raises her eyebrows. "I can understand the exploring bit," she says. "I was stuck in a pool for two years before I was given to Terenia, and something like that will definitely make you want to get out and see the sights." She hesitates, then adds, "Not so sure I would count killing people off as very high on my list of favorite hobbies. I mean, violence kind of comes with the territory of being in a war, but it's not exactly fun."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin falls silent as the two human converse, then looks up at Parker when he addresses him. <Do you mean Claxter? I assume he's out feeding or enjoying the fresher air outside. I gave him some restricted leave time.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________
~Rathien~
Rathien shrugs noncommittally. "People have to die, it's a part of living. And there are times when each person is supposed to lose the Dream. I'm simply one of those chosen by Fate to execute her Will. It's really as simple as that. Of course, the very thing that alienated me from my own species drives me to hunt, and there's not a more satisfying prey animal than those that can bite back." He swirls the liquor around in his tumbler. "But if it's not your time, I'm really quite nice."
-
Connor turned to the Andalite, and said "you seem knowledgeable enough about all this and whats going on, would you be able to tell me if in all the univereses you know of that the Andalites and yeerks are fighting in a terrible war?
-
Salem moved aside as Parker got up and went to speak with the newcomer.
At Jocun's reaction, Salem laughed, "You and everyone else I meet. I keep hoping someone will be able to show me how to use these things." He stuck the crystal back in his case and began rummaging.
"Hmm... I do have some paint mixing information from Slick Brenda's. None of their new stuff, of course. They wouldn't be the leading paint shop in the galaxy if they just gave away all their secrets. There are a few colors that could almost pull off camouflage, though." He pulled out a small, cubical computing device and set it on the counter. The device began projecting some images into the air. Salem began leafing through the displays in front of him with his fingers.
"Let's see... Iridescent Ultraviolet, Gamma Red, Shimmer, Soul Scarring Black, which is a personal favorite of mine- same color as my ship, if you've seen that in the yard- and," he grinned, "information for imagesafe painting. Basically, if you paint a design or image into something, this paint will make sure the image is seen exactly the same way, no matter the angle or direction it's viewed from. Sound decent?"
-
"That sounds good." Jocun said, partly to not sound too picky. He wasn't sure if the paint would do a lot better than what he had, but it would at least be enough to make them even. "not sure if I'd pick something called soul scarring as my favorite color." He said jokingly. "I appreciate it."
-
Parker nodded toward Ossanlin, "Well, either way, it's good to see you up and about again." He extended his hand to him to shake his hand, "Last I saw you, you weren't looking too hot."
-
Esreth snorts a little. <<Sounds like he'd get along real well with Terliss,>> she says dryly. Terenia doesn't respond, her distaste palable.
"I suppose I should be grateful that it isn't my time, then," she says aloud to Rathien, giving him a small smile and sipping her beer. "Last I checked there were still far too many people out there waiting for me to grace them with my presence. Dying just wouldn't fit in the itinerary." She winks at him.
-
Gene is still staring at the spot where the holographic man had vanished. He blinks out of his reverie, leaning away from the edge of the bar counter with a sigh.
His eyes track around the room, landing on Rathien and Terenia, and finally on Ossanlin. He doesn't realize he is staring again for a few heartbeats, and he quickly blinks and looks away again.
"Bartender," he murmurs sullenly, "could I have a beer?"
The bartender watches Gene, unblinking, before sliding the yellow notepad over.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin moves his main eyes from Parker to Connor and back, clasping his many-fingered hand to the armor-gloved hand of the strange human soldier. <Yes, I'm afraid my memory is somewhat...fogged. I was not well. I believe that aside from exhausting myself, I fell afoul of some sort of temporal-spacial anomaly, perhaps spawned from using my...abilities.>
He moves his main eyes back to Connor. <I'm afraid I don't know much about any universe aside from my own, but theory would suggest there are infinite Universes ranging from those where Andalites never ran across the Yeerks to those where the Yeerks never found Earth, or those where Andalites, Yeerks, and humans never even existed, and everything in between.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___
~Rathien~
Rathien raises an eyebrow. This Esreth seemed to be engaging in "humanoid" versions of flirting, though what she's really thinking he cannot say. She does not behave typically for a Yeerk, and that makes her interesting.
"Most people aren't grateful for the time they have. I'm sure there are many waiting for you to 'grace' them with your presence. So tell me, Esreth, what do you enjoy the most about 'humanoid' experience?" He continues to smile winningly, making almost constant eye-contact.
-
Connor nodded and said "I guess if more than one demension exists that more than one history exists throughtout them too"
-
"Hm." Esreth considers this question seriously, swiveling the bar stool back and forth as she thinks. "Well, there are the usual benefits. You know, added senses and whatnot. But really, I think the best part about being human is the added mobility. I like meeting new people, and being stuck in a pool with the same couple dozen Yeerks can become quite tedious after a time."
She grins and gestures idly to the bar as a whole. "It's one of the reasons I like this place so much. It tends to bring in...interesting crowds." Her grin widens a little. "Of course, Terenia isn't quite in agreement with me over the importance of socialization."
<<That's an understatement,>> Terenia quips darkly.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin shrugs. <The theory suggests everything ever possible in the future or past has or will happen in one universe or another. Literally infinite realities, each one differing from every other in some way.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _______________
~Rathien~
"Ah, I suppose so. I suppose I take many things for granted." He glances at Salem again. "I do know a little about what it's like to be tied down...it's not pleasant." He moves his eyes back to Terenia. "But I was talking more along the lines of sensory perception..."
-
Salem smiled, "Good choice. I'm not sure Yeerks have all the materials and technologies needed to mix every paint in here, but you should still be able to experience some truly mind-blowing stuff." He laughed, "Almost literally, in some cases. Depending on the species viewing them, some of these paints can be... more than a little distracting." He turned off the cube-like computing device and held it out to Jocun. "Computer's thought or voice activated, and pretty intuitive- it should be able to figure out what you want it to do. It'll require physical contact to get started, at least until it's used to you. Should recognize Gallard, Hork-Bajir, and a nice collection of others. Not Yeerkish yet, I'm afraid," he said with an apologetic smile.
-
"Not Yeerkish? That's the best one." He said jokingly. "So what are you going to be up to now? Leaving before Rathien decides to have another shot at you? Or perhaps looking for other trinkets to add to the collection?"
-
"They all have their benefits," Esreth says thoughtfully. "I suppose...oddly enough, the human sense I enjoy the most is touch. Obviously that's something I can experience in my natural form, but there is something far more--" She grins, thinking of Corliss, "--primal about touch within humans. Yeerks touch one another to communicate even the most basic conversation. For humans...touch has far more sophisticated nuances. Barring that, taste is pretty fantastic as well."
-
~Rathien~
Rathien smiles at the mention of touch, as well as Esreth's usage of the word 'primal'. "Both fine choices...both indulgent choices." He grins a little wider, baring his fangs. "Here I thought every Yeerk liked sight the best, but I prefer touch as well. Not that I am or ever have been a Yeerk. I can't imagine such a constrained life."
"Of course certain regions of the body contain many more nerve endings than others. For instance, have you been infesting Terenia during one of those lovely endorphin baths our brains give us when we fulfill our most primal instincts?" His wide grin takes on a slightly devlish quality, watching Terenia and Esreth closely to gauge reactions.
-
Esreth blinks and Terenia's cheeks flush a little. When she speaks, though, her tone remains casual enough. "I did not say I enjoyed the sensation of touch for no reason," she murmurs with a smirk. "My first human host was a thirteen year old girl, and on Earth nonetheless, so my experiences were limited to what was deemed socially acceptable. Terenia...well, there is certainly a notable difference between a young adolescent and an adult engaged in an intimate relationship. Quite a few Yeerks shy away from that particular aspect of humanity, but..." Esreth shrugs, her smirk widening. "I always thought the point of taking a host was to experience it as completely as possible."
<<Are you seriously talking about my sex life to this turelek?>> Terenia demands, both offended and mortified.
"My presence," Esreth continues, at Terenia's expense, "has, of course, had the added benefit of getting my host to loosen up a little. Poor girl was terribly uptight when it came to such things."
<<Esreth!>>
-
Parker nodded and let go of Ossanlin's hand. He commented, "Is that after you helped out Terenia? That's gotta take a lot out of you; rearranging someone's DNA and all."
-
Salem laughed. Jocun was probably toying with him, but at least the guy was amiable.
"Neither, actually. I've got too much other business to take care of. Can't let Mr. Trigger Happy over there get in the way." He paused, "If you're offering 'trinkets,' though, we might be able to work something out."
-
"We'll see, if I think of something." Jocun sipped his drink as he turned his attention to the other patrons. Rathien seemed like he could be civil when he wasn't out to kill someone, which was good. He just wasn't the kind of person Jocun would trust very far. Not that it seemed he should trust Salem very far anyway. He had spoken to a lot of people at the bar, but he didn't think he had made any close connections aside from people who weren't here anymore.
<It was so easy back at the Empire, where people actually gave a crap about my position.>
<I won't deny that.> Simon said. <I think we're doing pretty well, though. Nobody hates us, though Parker really dislikes us.>
<Yeah, but I don't think he'll kill us. Not that I have anything that could stop him, aside from threats of military retribution.>
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods and shrugs. <Any time I ascend...well my body isn't made for it. Each time takes its toll. The actual re-imprinting of her DNA was not that difficult, but maintaining my ascended state always is. The exhaustion was not so much from the procedure as it was from having to maintain that higher state for such a long period of time. The temporal shift did not help much either. Over a year has passed on the outside, and apparently I have been in both places at once. I do not know how it happened, but I do know that my psyche did not appreciate it.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________
~Rathien~
Rathien smirks, still running his tongue over a fang, imagining what Esreth meant. "Yes, delightful experience isn't it? You do seem remarkably relaxed for a Yeerk." He pauses, thinking over Esreth's comments. "So does that mean you've engaged in one of those nonsensical exclusive pair-bonds that humans are so fond of? They're so restrictive, and for no real reason..."
-
"Technically it isn't a pair-bonding if there are four of us," Esreth points out with a smirk. "But yes, Corliss, Mike, Terenia and I are in a 'nonsensical exclusive bond', if that is what you wish to call it. And they are restrictive in some ways, I suppose, but not in the ways that matter." Her smirk widens. "You just need a good imagination."
-
COnnor listened to the two talk and waited till there was a break and says to the Andalite "You can change peoples DNA?"
-
In the forest behind the building that was locally known as the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar, a sudden cold chill surrounded a small clearing. All of a sudden, a small electrical storm started brewing in the area.
In a flash of lightning, a perfectly spherical object appeared as if from thin air, slamming into the ground, leaving a small crater, about one meter in diameter. As the smoke and dust cleared, the sphere seemed to vanish to nothing, revealing naught but a lone Samurai dressed in a white Keikogi and Hamaka with a 4 foot katana sheathed at his hip, kneeling in the crater.
His jet black hair, which is usually tied in a topknot, hangs down to his shoulders, and his piercing blue eyes survey his surroundings. Standing at 5 foot 9 inches, he dusts himself off.
Hmm, he thought I wonder where that blasted demon has sent me...
Spying a rundown looking building in the distance through the trees, he decided to head towards it in hopes of discovering where he had ended up.
*****
After slashing his way through all the overgrown bushes and trees, he finally makes it to the door of the building. Hand hovering over the hilt of his Katana, ready to fight, he nudges the door slightly open with one of his sandled feet.
His eyes going wide at all the different beings inside, he gathers that it must be some sort of bar. Hesitantly, he walks inside and looks around at all gathered, with a rather perplexed look on his face, hand still poised over the hilt on his Katana.
-
Jocun saw another person enter, looking ready to fight any threat that may emerge. He still had his dracon in hand, and hoped it wouldn't set the new guy off.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin shrugs, not really desiring to explain. <In a word, yes. It is...complicated. It takes a lot of time and energy.> He glances over at Parker before nodding. <I don't suppose I've thanked you properly for the assistance you provided. I do appreciate it. You seem to have adjusted well to this setting for a non-infested human...>
His eyes swivel to the bar door as a strangely-dressed human enters. The thing that catches his eye most, however, is the peculiar katana sword at his hip. Ossanlin hadn't seen anyone anywhere besides himself and Parker wear the gracefully-curved human-style sword. This individual's saiya and tsuka seems somewhat more ornate than his own pair however, which are built purely for their function without any excess.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ________
~Rathien~
Rathien rests his tumbler and the hand gripping it on the bar counter...so, this Yeerk probably wouldn't be open for any fun...but the flirting has its own value, even if it's quite a lot less than the other. "Too bad...I probably know a few things that could...extend...yo ur imaginative 'vocabulary' for your next encounter with your partners. And the teaching and learning would be exquisite fun besides." He winks, still smiling as he takes another sip of his drink. "But at least looks are free and I'll make no excuses for my imagination." He smirks a bit as his eyes flash down Terenia's body before moving back up to her face.
He barely glances at the door as another human enters wearing what appears to be a peculiar curved fighting blade reminiscent of those worn by the large male andalite and the strangely-armored human. Longer than the short-sword-length blades that cris-cross his own back under his cape, too long in his opinion. By and large the visitor looks somewhat confused and seems to have not a scrap of technology on him. Curious. His glance returns quickly to Esreth, his smile never faltering.
-
Walking through the now open door, it swings behind him with a dull thud. Sensing that some of the creatures were eyeing him off, he lowered his hand from the hilt of his Katana; not wanting to start a fight.
Looking around, he saw a whole bunch of creatures that he could only have dreamt about. Looking rather lost, he saw a man wearing an apron standing behind what he could only gather was the bar. Walking up to him, and avoiding the gazes of the other patrons, he takes a seat at the bar near a couple other patrons, and says to the bartender in fluent Japanese 'Please good sir, can you tell me where I am?'
Not getting any reply, he repeats the same sentence in heavily accented English, just loud enough for the other patrons standing near him to hear.
((Ok, that's it for me tonight! you can decide who he sat next to!))
-
Parker replies, "Happy to help a friend. For one so powerful, you do end up helpless a lot it seems." He then ****s his head slightly and replies to Ossanlin's comment, "Well, I've been fighting aliens for a long time, so they're not new to me; and I've grown up around battle and constant conflict, so I'm really quite at home here. The only differences are that the aliens I'm used to seeing are usually trying to kill me; and our mess hall doesn't serve alcohol. Unless someone else travels here from my universe on a ship that can travel through Slipspace, I'm afraid I'm a permanent resident here. I have a ship now at least, so I'm not completely limited; but that ship can only go back to Morgan and Gaz's universe."
Parker saw movement on motion tracker entering the bar. Thor immediately began monitoring him. Parker turned his head to look at the new patron. The newcomer was dressed anciently. It's extremely unlikely he traveled here by ship. The weapon at his side, that he keeps at the ready, is not unlike the katana nested under all of Parker's rifles. Parker watches as he sits at the bar and orders in Japanese.
After he gets no reply from the silent bartender, Parker faces him and answers for him. Speaking in fluent Japanese, Parker says, "You are in a universal nexus. This planetoid is occupied by this one structure. This bar is known as the 'Galaxy's Edge Space Bar'."
-
Esreth rolls her eyes a little when Rathien mentions vocabulary, prepared to return with a comment about exactly how imaginative she could be, but her grin fades at Terenia's vehement reaction when the Ildari scans her body.
"I must apologize," Esreth says with a little cough, her smile returning, though smaller. "My host is not exactly a fan of our topic of conversation. You make her uncomfortable."
She glances up briefly as a newcomer, a stranger, enters the bar, then looks over to make sure that Gene is still nearby.
-
Gene sits at the bar counter, tapping his fingernails on a half-full glass of beer, an unreadable expression on his face.
A chance look around the room has him catching Terenia's eye, and he gives a little wave.
She looks...uncomfortab le, he thinks warily, eyeing the fanged creature next to her for the briefest of moments. He swivels in his bar seat, taking a sip of the cold, amber liquid.
-
Upon hearing the patron of the bar sitting next to him in fluent Japanese, he breathes a sigh of relief, able to speak to someone in his native tongue.
‘Well,’ he says to the armoured individual in Japanese ‘Thank-you for your help, but I must return to my own time to finish what I started with the dark lord, Aku.’ He looked around, hoping that none of his minions had been sent along to attempt to finish him off
‘Have you any idea what year it is, on this planet?’ The samurai asked of him.
((Keep in mind, my character is speaking in Japanese, so to the best of my knowledge, Parker is the only one so far who can understand him))
-
~Ossanlin~
<It is...fitful. When I ascend, I exist in a state for which my body and mind were never designed. I am not well...equipped...t o deal with the onslaught of perception, and the usage of energy is greatly accelerated. You must understand, after I exist in that state for a protracted period of time and then resolve into my regular self...it is as if everything crashes down around me. The flow of energy from the Ellimist...or wherever the Ellimist's energies come from, buffer my body from the energy drain. Once that flow ceases, I feel its full effect, and it feels much as if I have run one-hundred clicks and climbed a ten kilometer mountain at the end.> He pauses and shrugs in the human manner. <That is exaggeration of course, but humans tend to understand the gravity of a situation more aptly when I use exaggeration.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ________
~Rathien~
"I suppose I must apologize to your host then. But she must understand that such an appraising look is a compliment, at least coming from me. Her genetics are above average, at least in the physical department. Of course I can't asses her mental competency what with you in control, but somehow I have a feeling I'd have to dodge a Dracon bolt or two if you let her take charge. I would hate to be forced to harm either of you in self-defense." He smiles, not a hint of bite or negativity in his tone, merely a statement of fact.
"I never have understood why some females react so negatively to compliments on their appearance. Of course there are some males...quite a few actually...that respond negatively to compliments from me. They have some sort of nonsensical aversion to pleasurable activities with another male." He shrugs and begins running his tongue over a fang again. "Why deny what nature wants, hmm?"
He smiles a little wider before speaking again. "So tell me, what inherent benefits do you experience from withholding yourself from pleasurable activities in the absence of your mates? I never could understand, and no one has been able to give me a real answer."
-
Parker shakes his head to the newcomer, he replies further in Japanese, "I apologize, but the only Time that matters is the Time in which you inhabit. For me, it's the 26th century. For some of my friends here, it's only the 21st century. Time is relative here. We've had people leave and return a week later; however for that individual, they've been gone for over a year.
"I'm also saddened to say: I don't know how to return you to where you came. Unless you have your own form of travel, you may be stuck here as I am. My ship came here disabled. It would've completely missed the asteroid had I not evacuated and landed on this planetoid myself."
Parker turned back to Ossanlin and replied in English, "I understand that, true pain is difficult to explain when the one you're talking to hasn't experienced it. I know I couldn't fully appreciate the toll it takes on you, the same as I can't understand how some of my brethren suffer after having failed their augmentation process. All I could do was stand quietly as they suffered to such immense degrees."
-
'Hmm...' the samurai mused for a moment in thought, scratching his head. 'I originally came from the year 25BA. I was originally thrown thousands of years into the future by the evil shape-shifting demon Aku, who has enslaved the entire planet! I must find a way to get back and stop him!'
Seeing the creature that the armoured individual then turned his attention to, his eyes went wide at the sight of it, and he instinctively reached for his Katana, if the need for defence arose.
-
The moment before the new patron reached for his katana, Thor warned Parker, <Sir.> He then showed the new man's vitals. They were rising and altering dramatically.
Parker looked over his shoulder and saw the man was reaching for his katana. He cried out in Japanese, "Halt! There's no need for violence. He is friendly. No harm will come to you from him."
-
'Please, forgive my hastiness.' He stood and bowed to the two creatures. 'I have never even told you my name.' He looked rather ashamed in himself
'When I was transported to the future by the evil Aku, I received the name Jack from the locals.' He bowed again. 'And what are you known as, good sir?' Jack enquired.
-
Parker stood and bowed to "Jack". He replied in Japanese, "There is no offense. The matter is done. I am known as Parker 8-2-1. You may call me 'Parker'. May I inquire what your true name is 'Jack'?"
-
Esreth laughs a little. "Terenia doesn't take to any compliments well, no matter what the topic," she says blandly. "As for our relationships...I suppose there is no benefit if it isn't what you want. But for someone like Terenia, and for myself too, I suppose, there is a certain amount of peace of mind that comes with knowing that there are people who care for you enough to make you their priority."
-
'I apologize, but it has been many years and as such I have since forgotten my true name, as Aku has wiped it from my memory.' Jack said apologetically, while resuming his seat at the bar.
His stomach growling, he says to Parker 'How do I order food in this bar? The bartender seems to not understand me.'
-
Parker replies, still in Japanese, "The bartender doesn't speak. More plausible that he could not answer the question you asked. Order what you want. He accepts any payment. He starts tabs for later payment also.
"If you are comfortable with Jack, I will not object calling you Jack."
-
~Rathien~
Rathien nods, listening to Esreth closely before responding. "It's a shame she doesn't like compliments...one should take pleasure in life wherever available. The Dream is short, make the most of it. And speaking of your...relationship ...couldn't you experience such things without the exclusivity of physical pleasure? Could one not carry on facets of a strong relationship and branch out a little? Why is the reception of physical pleasure from a being other than one's partner so frowned-upon? What reason, logical or otherwise, is there for ignoring such a powerful part of yourself when it comes to others? Why is, say, talking with others or eating with others or taking part in social gatherings with others allowed whilst the physical interaction is not? Shouldn't those things be seen as some sort of betrayal as well? I don't see the difference...or the point in any of it for that matter." Rathien shrugs, his facial expression altering enough to convey his confusion before returning to his easy-going smile as he takes another sip, still making full eye-contact with Terenia and Esreth.
-
Esreth shrugs, not allowing Terenia's internal squirm of discomfort to show. "I suppose for Yeerks it is fairly simple. When we reproduce, we die. Such physical contact is not natural for us unless we wish to commit suicide. Unless, of course, we express it through our hosts, in which case it is probably best not to allow for over-stimulation. I would equate it to a Yeerk who gets too caught up in their human host's sense of taste. Before long, you have a rather obses host."
She grins a little at the image, then sobers, looking away from Rathien, his constant gaze slowly beginning to make her uncomfortable as well. "As for Terenia...it took her a long time to warm up to the affections of Corliss and Mike. She has had a hard life, and she does not particularly enjoy associating with others. Those social gatherings you speak of? She avoids those as well. Not because she thinks of it as a betrayal, but because she prefers solitude."
-
Salem smiled at Jocun, "Let me know. Either way, it's been a pleasure doing business." He stood, "I'm sorry to run so soon, but I have a couple of other things I need to take care of." With a nod, he picked up his cloak, moved towards an empty booth, and sat down.
Al, seeing Salem moving away from the general crowd, rose and half-walked, half-skipped over to Salem's booth, sliding into the seat beside him. Salem rolled his eyes as he slid aside to make room.
"So, what's the deal with you and McScarypants over there," Al asked, with a slight nod towards Rathien. "I've managed to piece together that you're not dead, but I can't see how. Did you kiss and make up?"
Salem laughed, "Not exactly, though we did come closer than you'd think." He trailed off, rummaging through his wadded cloak, trying to avoid getting too much blood on his hands.
My blood, he reminded himself. He hadn't even seen the injury, but for there to be this much blood inside the cloak, it must have been severe.
"To both death and kisses," he muttered, pulling his hand from another cloak pocket and wiping his blood-covered knuckles on a napkin.
Al raised an eyebrow and laughed in surprise. He then leaned in, lowering his voice, and switched to the Atazin galactic language, "Seriously, what happened?"
Salem also lowered his voice and switched languages. There didn't seem to be anyone in listening range, but old habits die hard, and one could never be too careful. "I injected him with nanites. They'll melt his brains if my vitals stop."
Al blinked in surprise, then smirked at Salem, "You told him that? Was that your plan all along?"
Salem shrugged sheepishly, then finally gave up on looking for whatever he was trying to find in his cloak and pulled his archaic communicator from the cloak pocket- a cylindrical device just long enough to not be fully covered by his closed fist, resembling an old earth microphone. "I think it may be time to make a phone call," he said, grinning at Al.
-
Thor gave Parker a quick update, <<Sir, Tobias and his counter part have resumed using the unknown language detected previously.>>
Parker shut off his speakers to talk to Thor, "What unknown language? You mean the weird anomaly you had last year?"
Thor replied, <<For you it was last year, sir.>>
Parker shut his eyes frustratedly, "Right." He opened them blinking. He thought a moment, "You still haven't translated it?"
Thor retorted, <<They have not used a proper amount of words to properly decode and translate. Most communications they have in said language is short term at best. Finding speech and grammar structures takes lengthy analysis with plenty of source materials. I've only had a few paragraphs.>>
Parker gave a slight sigh, "Okay, well, just keep doing your best. For now, as far as the transcript is concerned, just type what they're saying phonetically."
Thor responded, <<Yes sir.>>
Parker returned his attention to the two men he was conversing with and continued to read the transcript of Esreth and Rathien's conversation on the side. He wouldn't trust that bounty hunter for anything.
-
'That's understandable, and I have no objections to being called Jack. I rather like the name, myself.' Jack said to Parker. Turning to face the bartender, he said in broken English 'I would like to order a Bento with some soy sauce dip, please' Opening up his money pouch that he kept hidden inside his clothes, he places a few coins on the counter that the bartender gladly takes.
After a few moments, the bartender returns with his order, complete with chop sticks and a small bowl of soy sauce for dipping. 'Many thanks, good sir' Jack replies, again in broken English to the bartender as he starts eating his meal.
-
Simon's translator chip eventually translated what Jack was saying as Japanese, though he and Jocun didn't speak it. Luckily the guy was able to speak some English. With Salem gone, he turned his attention to Rathien who had been talking about sex. Simon actually found him attractive, but was unlikely to be willing to have sex with the guy. The current discussion may actually work in Jocun's favor when he started talking to Terenia again, since she'd likely prefer almost any discussion to the one Esreth was having.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien spares a glance for Salem and his lackey before moving his own eyes back to his drink. Esreth had broken the eye-contact herself...he smiles to himself. "Yes, I suppose reproduction has a much more macabre twist when it comes to you Yeerks. But I'm not speaking of reproduction. It is the reward for accomplishing the acts required for reproduction that I speak of."
He glances up at Esreth and Terenia before taking another drink and continuing. "The two are not the same, and most humanoid species have found ways of separating them...and by that I mean ways of achieving the reward without the reproduction. For example, I can achieve the same amount of enjoyment with another male as I can with a female, and unless his species is very unique indeed, it will never result in a child." He grins again. Of course a Yeerk would not possess the same senseless preconceptions about same-gender mating as most bi-gendered races. Of course there were exceptions to the rule, usually races that had moved to a higher level of functionality with minimal religious interference with logical thought. But Esreth's host should possess the general human preconceptions...un less of course she had moved beyond them herself.
"Overeating and obesity have obvious repercussions with health...but unless you have scientific evidence that supports a theory that they cause a Yeerk harm, I can tell you that it is nigh impossible to overdose a humanoid race with naturally self-produced endorphins. In fact, many races benefit from repeated exposure. The relief of stress by itself is proven to have very therapeutic effects." He directs a questioning glance in Esreth's direction in case she should look up again.
-
Parker leaned slightly toward Jack and commented in Japanese, "There is no need to have to speak English to him. He understands anyone who talks to him."
Parker then turns back to Ossanlin and says in English, "Though, to be frank, running that distance to me is nothing special. I can understand your similie; but I can cover that with no problem. Granted I am much more than your usual Human."
-
"Maybe I'm just not stressed out enough to warrant it," Esreth says with a pert smile. If the idea of same-gender mating bothers her, she doesn't seem to show it. She finishes her beer and stands. "Or maybe, as enjoyable as it is, it is not quite galaxy-shattering enough to warrant wasting my time hunting down other possible conquests. There are more important things than intercourse going on. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I should give Terenia some distance before she tries to rip your throat out."
She steps away from the counter, glancing over to ensure that Gene is still nearby.
-
~Ossanlin~
<I see.> He shrugs in the human fashion and scans the bar with his stalk eyes, taking in everyone's positions. <It is a balancing act, I believe it may be possible for me to destroy myself if I...over-do it. The more I exert myself, or the longer I remain ascended, the worse the energy loss. In simpler terms, extra-mortal abilities take an extra-mortal toll.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _________
~Rathien~
Rathien raises an eyebrow as Esreth stands to leave, chuckling to himself. "I thought we were having a completely innocent intellectual discussion." He grins, taking another drink from his tumbler. The session had eventually had to come to an end, and at least she hadn't pulled a Dracon on him. To Esreth's back, he says, "I apologize for upsetting your host, it was not my intent. Exactly the opposite in fact."
He holds his hands out palms up, shaking his head and still smiling before turning back to the bar, taking another swig out of his glass before glancing around, still chuckling to himself. He stands and walks over to the booth that Salem and Al are sitting in, the liquor having a pleasant, warming effect on his body. He slides himself easily into the booth across from Salem, lifting a booted leg up on the table as he leans back into the booth, his cape flaring underneath him and out the side of the booth before settling limp. "How's life, pseudovite?" He spares a glance at Al as he speaks before moving his gaze to Salem and taking another swig from his tumbler. "What'cha guys talkin' about?" He grins and quirks an eyebrow.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __
~Raile~
Raile shrugs. "There's no diplomacy with droids, most are programmed not to care whether they continue to exist or not. The only option is to destroy or be destroyed."
-
Jocun moved to Esreth to continue hanging out with her. He certainly had little reason to continue sitting near Parker. "Eh, he's not the first person in the galaxy to bring up sex in this sort of environment. If you'd like, you can still chat with me about more casual things. I don't really know what neutral areas there are in your time, but I remember a very nice planet called Bereeth where the people Weren't volatile to Yeerks but weren't wild about Andalites either. Lots of festivals there."
-
Parker tilts his head upward and asks, "So what happens if you stay acsended? What if you just left your body? Complete the ascension." Parker left the question there. He didn't want to lead it anywhere else.
Garreth nodded replying, "That would certainly be a nice break from fighting sapient beings. Less worry about moral repercussions. Dismantling droids would be lighter on the conscience."
-
Esreth sighs a little, reluctantly settling down near Gene, glancing at Jocun. "I have never heard of Bereeth," she says, "I have only ever been on Earth, a smattering of Yeerk vessels and the rebel bases." Her eyes follow Rathien as he crosses the room, brows drawn. "It is not his topic of conversation that irks me, it is his manner of delivery. There is something about him that I do not trust."
-
"I don't doubt he's untrustworthy. I know I've said I don't despise all bounty hunters and such, but I'm pretty sure that's the kind of guy I wouldn't like. Earth is quite nice in many places. If you were going to go there, what would you like to see?"
-
Upon finishing his meal at the bar, Jack got a sudden feeling that something big was about to happen. Looking around and not seeing anything, Jack hears Aku's voice 'Young samurai, you must return from whence I transported you!'
As soon as Aku had finished saying this, a sphere of bright white light surrounded Jack, and he vanished into nothingness, returning to where he came from.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin shakes his head before speaking again. <I'm quite certain that if my physical body dies, which it would should I go too far, I will die as well. I am not immortal, nor am I a...deity. I would not want either of those in fact. I am merely allowed to use the Ellimist's energy more directly than most. Even so, my body was not meant to undergo such stress. I am...limited in more ways than I think you believe.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _________
~Raile~
"Perhaps." Raile shrugs and takes another drink.
-
Esreth shrugs a little. "I dunno. You're from the future, right? Your Earth might be a lot different from mine. Do you guys still have Hawaii? I wouldn't mind spending some time there. The last time Terenia tried to go on a field trip there it didn't end well for her. She still hasn't seen it."
-
"Hawaii's still there, though the islands and culture changed over time like everything does. Still quite a nice tourist attraction. Western United States is still one of the nicer places to be on Earth, especially since we fixed that super volcano so it wouldn't blow up and take most of the continent with it. As Yeerks do, we have made some changes to the planet to improve it, but it also improved things for Humans too. The pandas are gone. We decided a species that's too lazy to eat the food it's supposed to be eating, and too hostile to reproduce, should just be left to its own devices."
-
Parker shrugged, "You're certain; but you don't know. You may believe as such because you're still grounded by third dimensional thinking. Just because you ascend and leave your physical form, doesn't mean you become immortal; just harder to kill. It could be that you were given the ticket to proper ascension. You just aren't in the proper mindset or mental state to accept leaving this existence. Ascension wouldn't make you a god, that's a simpleton's way of accepting what he doesn't understand. Ascension is just the next step of evolution. The next step of existence, from three dimensions to four. Personally, I think you're only as limited as you place upon yourself. Namely, your body. Yes, your body was not meant to house and use such powers. Perhaps that's the answer staring you straight in the face?"
Thor registered Jack's disappearance and notified Parker. Parker furrowed his brow and let the matter go, returning his focus to Ossanlin.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin furrows his brow in response to Parker, but keeps his tone of thought even. The human was probably only trying to help in some fashion and didn't mean to sound condescending. <Firstly, I do not become ethereal in any way...I am still very physical during my heightened state, and I can still be injured by very mundane means. Secondly, I know of no-one who understands the Ellimist in detail. If He has graced you with some knowledge, I would be quite happy to hear it. If it is merely your opinion, I note it, but you'll forgive me for refusing to gamble without need when the price of failure is death. I have responsibilities still that I cannot shirk. If you wish to...what is it the humans say...play Russian roulette, I will respect your wishes, but I find that such a game is entirely illogical.>
<And I am capable of manipulating the fourth dimension in my heightened state, but the last time I entered the Timestream, it very nearly did kill me. In fact, were it not for Mar, I would most-likely no longer exist. He is a Higher being by nature, and it was only with His assistance that I was able to return to the natural realm.>
-
Gene slides out of his bar seat and takes his beer to Terenia's side, sitting heavily.
He eyes Jocun with a little nod, his curly hair brushing across his eyes. He bats it away and takes a sip of the cold liquid.
"Sorry, mind if I join you?" he asks, grinning at Terenia.
-
Parker shrugs again, "It was just a suggestion. I'm not suggesting you kill yourself in any way. I just wonder if, when you consciously leave your body and didn't return to it, you would remain as you are in that state. Though it's only a theory. I certainly don't have any answers, I only mention that, really, neither do you. We can only speculate. If only there were some way for you to contact your Ellimist while in that ascended state, he may actually give you some answers so as to avoid dying by accident."
-
Esreth blinks at Jocun's inane mention of pandas, though it is Terenia who responds, her lips curling into a sneer. "I suppose an Imperial Earth has little use for any creatures that aren't fit for infestation or a food source," she says flatly.
When Gene approaches she gives him a look of relief, pulling out the chair next to her. "Yeah, have a seat, Gene. Sorry Esreth made me run off." She rolls her eyes, then grins a little. "So how are things with Dom going? You and he still, uh, close?" She snickers a little. "I think he's still trying to turn Mike into his clone or something."
-
"We do not concern ourselves with keeping every species on a planet alive. A species comes and goes as time passes. There are conservation efforts, though, and the fact that a good portion of the Human species is off the planet has actually helped as far and space and resources go."
"Hi again, Gene." He said, smiling.
-
"Yeah, I'm sure it is," Terenia says with a snort. "Tell me, Jocun, how did the war end in your time? I don't think you've told me."
She calls over the bartender and orders a glass of water to counter Esreth's beer, watching Jocun carefully for his answer.
-
"After Visser Three defeated the Andalite force, there were still survivors. Those survivors fought a losing battle until he died, and Visser One was put in charge. Since Visser Three underestimated the soldiers, and Visser One did not, she actually defeated them. With the Humans under control, a little surprise Visser One found that will not be mentioned, and the second Andalite force deflected, the Empire began plans to defeat the Andalites for good. On the andalite Homeworld, many battles raged between the two forces. Billions of hosts and said surprise eventually gave the Empire their victory."
-
The battered fighter emerging from the blank nothingness that is hyperspace, the on-board computer systems beep to the sole occupier of the ship alerting him to the presence of a nearby planet. Scanning for any life on the planet, the ships computers direct the craft to a lone building situated in a small forest clearing.
Guiding his ship to the planets surface, he makes a smooth landing, despite how damaged the fighter is. Opening up the ****pit, he jumps out of the pilots seat and onto the fuselage of the ship, then lowers himself to the ground. Standing at around 6 feet tall, with short cropped black hair with a slight blue hue to it and eyes that seem to constantly change colour from blue to grey, he looks like a rather formidable fellow. His clothing is distinctively military, due to the camouflaged pants, bloodstained jacket and steel capped boots.
The only differences that set him apart from normal humans are the small, yet prominent wolf-like ears, poking out from the top of his head and the wolf-like tail poking out through the seat of his pants.
Looking about, he limps towards the door of the building nearby, hoping to find anyone else of his race that survived what had happened on his home planet, as well as trying to find a medic. Almost falling through it, he sees a wide array of beings gathered inside. Managing to call out between gasps for breath and the excruciating pain, he cries 'Medic!' just loud enough for a majority of the patrons to hear before collapsing a few feet inside the building.
((OK, injury wise this is what's wrong: several puncture wounds in his torso, with some crystal shards still protruding out of his chest and stomach, a few minor burns to his legs, as well as a couple decent cuts to his head. I'll tell ya all what happened to him in a later post :P))
-
Jocun heard the door open again, and a wounded man cried out for a medic. He went ver to assess the damage. Puncture wounds on his torso, as well as burn wounds. "Bartender! I need gauze and cloth to stop the bleeding! Clean, if you please." The bartender gave him some, which he used to stop the bleeding and keep pressure on. He checked to see if blood was coming from his mouth to indicate lung puncture. "Thanks. I'll pay you back."
"I'm going toget some supplies from my ship." He said to the man. "Don't pull the shards out, as that may make things worse."
He started rushing to his ship.
-
Terenia jumps in surprise at the newcomer, but when Jocun jumps into action she relaxes again. <<Not my problem,>> she says to Esreth, who doesn't disagree. Instead, she turns to Gene. "I'm beginning to think I've had more than enough fun here. You heading out soon?"
As if on cue, Gene's comm link goes off, with an incoming hail that requests both audio and visual. The message is sent from a Dominic Ticak.
-
"Yeah, we're still uh, doing well," Gene replies easily, tucking a bit of his curly hair behind an ear. He starts, too, at the loud entrance of the injured soldier.
With trembling hands he pulls out his comm link, ready to put Terenia's suggestion into action, but he is stalled by the incoming hail.
"See?" he snorts, swiveling the glowing holoscreen in Terenia's direction. "Audio and visual. Oh, dear." He rolls his eyes and answers the call with a smile. "Hi, Dom."
-
The image that appears on screen is of a man in his early thirties with tan skin and European features. His dark hair is gelled carefully upward and tipped in bright blue. His dark blue eyes are accentuated with a light line of eyeliner and his lips, pulled back in a grin, shine faintly with lip gloss.
"My dear Gene," he says brightly, speaking with an accent that could be placed as vaguely Slovak in descent. "Where in the world are you? I have been looking everywhere." His grin becomes somewhat sly. "I have a surprise for you, moj prijatelj."
Terenia rolls her eyes and takes a drink of her water.
"I'm totally not eavesdropping," she says, turning to face the other direction and grinning to herself.
-
Gene leans on an arm, smirking. "I'm at the Bar," he replies. "I have a surprise for you, too. But I have to get myself back there, first."
He shoots Terenia a deprecating look. "Yes you are," he says, picking up a napkin and chucking it at her.
-
Terenia laughs, ducking the napkin. "Yeah, well. I never claimed to be respectful of other people's privacy," she says unabashedly.
Dom is shaking his head in disbelief. "Please do not tell me you mean that miserable hole-in-the-wall dive bar," he says, making a clucking sound with his tongue. "Gene, you are better than that. They do not even have clean floors, let alone a dedicated dance floor!" He grins again. "Do I need to come and retrieve you, my friend?"
-
Gene snorts at Terenia's comment. "I don't think it's really possible to be private, in this place," he drawls.
To Dom he replies, "Yes, that bar. No, I can fly a ship, and I'm not drunk or in need of rescuing." He rolls his eyes. "Well. Not yet, anyway." He inspects the floor around their table. "Would you even want to dance here? I feel like taking about a hundred showers, and I'm not even barefoot."
He peers back up at Dom. "You know, we could clean this place up a bit, maybe put in some lighting." He grins.
-
Jocun made it to his ship, and got supplies. He grabbed some 0+ blood for a transfusion, hoping the guy with different ears was Human enough to take Human blood. He also got other first aide supplies to suture the wounds and relieve pain.
-
"You think?" Dom asks, leaning forward in interest, resting his chin on the tips of his well-manicured fingers. "Hm, perhaps, my friend. It would be a fun project, no? Yes, I think I may pay this place a visit, even if you do not require, ah, rescuing. I can still try, can I not?" He flashes a bright grin. "Expect me shortly. Pozdrav."
With that promise his visage disappears entirely and Terenia turns back towards Gene.
"He's coming here?" she asks, her grin replaced with an uncomfortable, deer-in-the-headlights look. "Ah...maybe I should be going."
<<Oh come on,>> Esreth protests. <<He's fun!>>
-
Gene watches the blank holoscreen, eyebrows raised, a thumb running thoughtfully along his chin.
"I'll be right back," he says, scooting his chair back and making his way to the bar counter. He gestures for the bartender, and after a couple of quiet words he has the silent creature's notepad and pen in his hands. Gene scribbles something, clicks the pen, and holds both pad and pen out.
When the bartender doesn't respond, Gene gingerly sticks them both into the pudgy human-looking thing's apron. With a bright smile plastered onto his face, Gene steps back towards his table.
"That was weird," he breathes, sitting back down. "Does he, like, just never talk?"
-
"Not that I've ever seen," Terenia says, glancing at the bartender and then back to Gene. "He's creepy as hell, isn't he?"
She takes a sip of water, swirling the glass a little as she debates whether or not she should leave.
<<No,>> Esreth says firmly. <<Not yet.>>
"So, What'd you order, hm?" The mischievious glint in her eye indicates that the Yeerk has likely taken control.
-
"Creepy, yeah," Gene mutters, but he smiles and pokes at his empty beer glass, pushing it between his hands. "What I ordered was between me and him."
-
"So secretive," Esreth says, rolling her eyes and grinning good-naturedly. Smirking, she prods at Gene's side, poking him between the ribs. "I bet I could figure it out pretty easily, but fine. Don't tell me. I'm going to go irritate our Andalite friend over there." She nods towards Ossanlin. "Figure I may as well make Terenia as miserable as possible while we're here."
She snickers a little, pushing herself to her feet and striding over to where Ossanlin is speaking with Parker. "Hey there, how's it going grass-eater?" she asks, giving the Andalite captain a good-natured grin and helping herself to a nearby seat, spinning it around and sitting on it backwards. "Long time no see. Well. Long time never see for me, I suppose. Long time no see for Terenia."
-
~Ossanlin~
<I do not know who has told you about my ascended state, but they have informed you incorrectly. Never once have I "left" my body...my entire body changes. As I said, I do not become a spirit or an apparition...I am still a physical being and still within my own body...> His stalk eyes register the approach of Terenia.
He arches his eyebrows as she speaks up, but he controls the rest of his facial features as she confesses to being a Yeerk. <Interesting...infes tation. After complaining about living with extra "voices" in her head for years, she chooses to let yet another in. I assume she accepted you voluntarily...>
-
"Do you really find it necessary to ask?" Esreth counters, her own eyebrows raising in turn, though the smile remains on her face. "If she were involuntary, I wouldn't be likely to admit it to an Andalite. Besides, considering your continued presence in the lives of various rebellion members you should know better than to assume any of us would take a host against their will."
She lifts a shoulder in a shrug and offers Ossanlin a hand. "Esreth Two-One-Six, of a tiny shipboard pool that was too unimportant to bother giving an official designation. Which really just makes my full designation far wordier than necessary, because I have to explain that every single time."
<<Do you have to be so...bubbly?>> Terenia asks sourly. <<You're making me look-->>
<<Sociable? Likable?>> Esreth finishes for the human.
<<I was going to say 'like an idiot', but sure. Whatever floats your boat.>>
-
"Ow," Gene scowls, although he is smiling again by the time Terenia and Esreth are making their way toward Ossanlin. He rubs at his side with a sourly amused expression, peering around the room.
He gives the bartender an awkward glance, but settles for going back to his beer bottle.
After another few seconds he surreptitiously squints over at Terenia and Ossanlin. The idea of making small talk with an Andalite...he can't help but shiver.
Maybe it'll be good for you, huh? he berates himself internally. You can't assume they're all your enemy.
Clearing his throat, he ultimately decides to push back his chair, dragging his half-empty beer bottle with him.
By the time he is by Terenia's side again, she is about ready to shake the Andalite's hand.
"Apparently I'm your shadow today," Gene murmurs to Esreth, smiling sheepishly at Ossanlin.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin takes in the information before raising his own hand in the traditional human greeting and grasping Terenia's hand with one much stronger than the usual frail appendage of a typical andalite. <Ossanlin-Rethin-Sephirel, Captain of the Tyrennian, a Mark III Dome Ship. And I once thought I knew what the Rebellion would and would not do, until I was recently and quite rudely disabused of that particular misconception.> He notes Gene's approach, but keeps his main eyes on Terenia.
-
Gene looks from Esreth to Ossanlin, his sheepish expression turning a little wary.
"Hi," he says, his ears burning. "I'm, uh. I'm Gene Tannenbaum." He gives a little wave. "It's not every day I see an Andalite."
-
Jocun made it back to the man. The bar floor wasn't exactly the most sanitary place to be, but moving the man might kill him. He administered painkillers, and cleaned the area of the wounds as he started stitching them up. He also applied a gel that would help disinfect and harden to form a patch similar to a cast. He removed the crystals, and closed those wounds before giving him a blood transfusion. He also rubbed some salve on the burns and patched them up too.
-
"Still sore about that, are we?" Esreth asks, laughing flatly. "Well, you can't hold me accountable. I was in the pool when it happened. Had no say whatsoever in what anyone did with the Andalite girl that attempted to murder us all. I did get an unfortunate dose of barium, though. Lucky me it was a small dose. I was only paralyzed for a few hours, but it was pretty damn infuriating."
She pauses from her little tirade, giving Gene a sympathetic look. "Well, let bygones be bygones, right? You got your Andalite back and we've gone on with our lives best we can after she tore the base to pieces. Let's keep our conversation on friendlier topics, shall we?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin furrows his brow. <Actually I didn't get her back, her mind was irreparably altered. But I suppose we don't have to discuss the subject if you do not wish to. I was merely citing why I can no longer be certain that the Rebellion holds itself to those standards which they have represented to me. Trust is a fragile concept.>
He sighs before moving on. <I believe I'm well-apprised of the facts of the situation. While Efaen's actions were monstrous, the actions your Rebellion took afterward only made things worse.> He shakes his head. <My issue is not with you, it is with those of you who reached that decision, so I apologize if you took offense. What did you wish to speak about?>
-
Esreth shrugs, keeping half of her attention on Gene to make sure he is alright with the topic of discussion.
"I dunno," she says. "Anything. Haven't you Andalite's ever heard of small talk? I mean, why come to a place like this--" she gestures around the bar "--without the intent of meeting new people, making new friends? Do I have to have an agenda to speak to you? Or is that just what you're used to, when it comes to my people?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin shrugs and nods to Gene, acknowledging him, before moving his gaze back to Esreth. <Small talk...I understand humans have some sort of misconception regarding astronomical patterns. What is your host's astro-"logical" sign?> Ossanlin smooths his facial features, not allowing Esreth to be able to read whether he's joking or serious, but invests "logical" with a good heap of irony.
-
"Wait," Gene murmurs, ignoring the small talk and pointing from Terenia to Ossanlin. "You're the Andalite War-Prince who was in charge of Efaen?" He glances at Terenia for confirmation.
-
Esreth gives Ossanlin an uncertain look, then bursts out laughing. "Really? Are you asking Terenia her sign?" She chuckles again, but her laughter dies down at Gene's question and she lets Terenia take the reins.
"Yeah, that's him," Terenia says, smile fading altogether. "He's also the same blue fuzzy that got me back in my right body after I was nothlitized as a Yeerk. Once Efaen wasn't my host anymore Ossanlin here became her captain."
-
Gene's eyebrows raise, and he sets one hand on his hip, still clutching the beer bottle in his free hand.
"He's been..." He swallows. "Busy."
-
"Hey. Buddy. Can you hear me?" Jocun asked. the man hadn't moved since Jocun had started working to keep him from bleeding to death. He made sure the guy was in a comfortable position, and looked for something to use as a pillow. He thought maybe he might use a stretcher to get him to his ship, but no one else had come to the man's aide to help jocun with said stretcher.
-
Parker ****ed his head confused. He was about to respond, but Esreth came over to change the topic. He was silent as they talked about Efaen. Apparently she snapped while being surrounded by Yeerks. Once the topic changed again, he finally felt comfortable enough to speak up, "Well wouldn't astrological signs differ from planet to planet? After all, we all see different stars when we look up or out at night." He gave Gene a nod of acknowledgement.
-
Slowly regaining consciousness, Austin slowly opens his eyes. Seeing a middle aged Human, Austin mumbles out 'Thanks buddy.'
Looking around himself, he asks the one who saved his life 'Where am I?'
-
"A weird place called the Space Bar. It's a crossroads to practically any dimension or time frame in the universe, which in my opinion makes it a prime suspect for the center of all reality. We have a mute bartender that can get you anything and accepts any currency. Most of the locals are reasonably civil, but you should probably always have a weapon handy in case a fight breaks out. My name is Simon, and my Yeerk is called Jocun. Are you familiar with Yeerks?" Simon figured if he wasn't familiar with Yeerks, it would be easier for him to talk.
-
'Space Bar, huh? Fair enough.' Seeing that he was lying down, Austin figures that it's probably better off if he stays where he is.
'Yeerks? Never heard of 'em. Oh, and do you you want me to call you Simon or Jocun? The name's Austin, by the way' He said
-
"Nice to meet you, Austin. You can call us either. A Yeerk is actually a small alien that lives inside the head of someone. They need to in order to function well in society. If that bothers you too much, just call me Simon and don't worry too much about Yeerks. Whenever you get your strength back, you can take a seat somewhere and get something to eat or drink."
"You mind telling me why you were attacked? Also if whoever attacked you may be following you?"
-
Slowly putting himself in a sitting position on the ground, tail in full view behind him, he says to Jocun 'I wasn't attacked,' he pauses for a second to gather his thoughts on what happened 'I come from a mining planet, in the Sirius sector. We; the miners, have been hearing of catastrophic failure for quite some time now...' he takes a deep breath to suppress his emotions 'I was on Sub-Level 24 when I heard the explosions from deeper in the Crystal Mines, and on the surface of the planet.'
A single tear rolled down his cheek in memory of all his lost friends and family.
-
"I'm sorry for your loss." Simon said.
<Careful. You might offend him.> Jocun said sarcastically.>
"That would explain why crystals were embedded in your body. I can't say why you're here, or how to get back, but I hope you can recover here and eventually find your way back." Simon said, ignoring Jocun's comment. May I ask what the crystals are mined for?" He picked up a crystal, cleaned it, and looked to see if it was any kind of recognizable mineral.
-
'The crystals we mined are used for pretty much everything, in one way or another. That particular crystal shard, however; is extremely rare' Austin indicated to the bluey-red shard that Simon was holding
'That type of crystal is used in the manufacture of shipboard computer systems and weapons manufacture. These bright blue ones however, are used to make different compounds when combined with either Iron Ore or Deuterium in the science labs.'
-
"Interesting stuff." Simon said, putting the shard down next to him. "You look mostly like a Human, with a few exceptions. Are you familiar with Humans?
-
"I've come into contact with quite a few over the comms networks, but the ones I've met I can count on one hand." He said with a smile and a small chuckle
"How about giving this tired miner a helping hand up, 'eh?" Austin said, while extending his hand to Simon.
-
Simon grabbed his hand and helped lift him up as gently as possible, allowing austin to lean on him if needed. He looked around, deciding where to take him. Esreth had gone to speak with Ossanlin, and while the guy wasn't hostile so far, he didn't want to sit Austin near him in case he took a Parker-like distaste for Jocun. "Let's get you to the bar and order you a drink." He said, pointing to a stool a little away from everyone.
-
'Sounds like a plan.' Austin said as he quickly gathered up the crystals and was lead to the stool at the bar. 'So this Yeerk, is it like a symbiotic thing between you, or what?' he asked
-
"Our relationship benefits us both, as he works as my employer. Though to be honest, a Yeerk can take practically full control of the host if it wants to. There was actually a war a century or so ago when the species called Andalites gave them a way to leave their planet without making sure they wouldn't decide to try to take over the whole galaxy. The Yeerks won the war, but over time factions of Yeerks decided it wasn't right to enslave people. They managed to get out from under the thumb of their government, and make a new Empire.
"In case you don't know what an Andalite is, there's one in the room. That blue mouthless herbivore over there. Weird thing is, the war is still going on for him. I don't know if we're from his furute or just an alternate dimension, but he's not overly happy with Jocun right now. Their mistake was called Seerow's Kindness, and they traveled the galaxy to wipe out the Yeerks. Of course not everything is black and white. There are good Yeerks and bad Andalites."
"By the way, Jocun is a politicion, in case you were wondering."
-
Glancing over his shoulder to what Simon indicated was the Andalite, he quickly looked back. 'Andalite, huh? Can't say that species rings any bells, truth be told.'
In response to the last statement, Austin merely waved it away saying 'Eh, politics never interested me really, to tell ya the honest truth. And to be completely honest, this is just a bit overwhelming, what with seeing a lot of alien species for the first time' he paused for a second 'I think I need a drink.'
-
"Bartender, get this man a stiff one please. Clean glass." Simon said, handing over some money. The bartender took the money, then fixed a drink and put it in front of Austin. "Thank you."
"Well, just take your time. It's a weird place, and there can be a lot to take in. As for Jocun's job, it can be boring and hectic at times. We need politicians, though, as long as they don't start getting self centered. Jocun's one of the good one, though we've seen some bad ones."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin shrugs. <You mentioned "small-talk" which humans generally use to refer to unnecessary or erroneous conversation which serves little or no point. I can think of nothing more erroneous than nonsense...> He raises an eyebrow as Terenia takes control, and glances his main eyes at Gene before returning them to Esreth.
-
"Esreth has a thing for nonsense," Terenia says blandly. "And for making friends I'd rather not have anything to do with. I suppose I can't be too angry with you, though. You did restore my body, after all. And get that Andalite dapsen off our base." She attempts a smile -- one that appears far more forced than anything Esreth produces. "How have you been, Ossanlin?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin raises an eyebrow at the slightly disturbing, partially rictus smile that Terenia forces onto her face. <An interesting question I suppose. My memory is still somewhat obscured as I never left and in fact did not pass more than a few standard days in the time it took you all to pass more than a standard year. I have the distinct feeling that I have been in two places at once, which is both disturbing and intriguing. I suppose I am as well as can be expected. You are apparently doing well what with your...pleasurable. ..encounters with Corliss.> Ossanlin attempts a smile of his own. <An interesting conversation you had with that bounty hunter.>
-
Terenia's cheeks pinken. "You were eavesdropping?" she squeaks. Then her eyes narrow. "I did not have any conversation with that turelek. That was Esreth and her absolutely infuriating need to share personal inforation with everyone." She folds her arms across her chest, glaring at Ossanlin. "My relationship with Corliss is none of your business."
-
'Thanks Simon, I owe ya one. Not only for the drink, but for saving my life just then, too' Austin gladly took the drink and had a mouthful of what he could guess was rather old scotch.
Picking up the weapons grade crystal, Austin started thinking about what Simon said to him just before about needing a weapon. 'Ya know, if someone could get me access to a fully equipped workbench, I could make myself one hell of a weapon by scavenging some parts from my ship; not that I am able to get back to my home planet anyway' he said to Simon
-
"I may have something on my ship. It has all kinds of nice stuff, including a little workshop. You could use that to tinker around." He would have offered a spare dracon beam, but perhaps giving Austin something to do for himself would help him feel comfortable in a strange place.
-
Parker quipped, "No; but Esrerh's relationship with him is public record." A smile is easily heard in his voice.
-
~Ossanlin~
<Not intentionally, I only heard bits and pieces as it were...but they were interesting bits and pieces considering the fact that you and your chronically antisocial pathology were involved.> He shrugs, a human bodily expression he's become strangely accustomed to. <It seems as though Esreth compliments you then. Though I must say I'm rather surprised you became a host given your previous...experien ces, and your complaints about multiple voices in your head...>
-
"I'm not chronically antisocial," Terenia protests, scowling. "I just don't like people who try to screw with me. I have plenty of friends. Gene's my friend. Right, Gene?" She shoots him a glare, daring him to disagree, before continuing. "As for Esreth's presence, she is here because I wasn't a fan of zero voices in my head. Especially after...stuff. I had a rough couple of months. She's helping me out. Is that a problem?"
<<Touchy, touchy,>> Esreth murmurs, amused.
-
<Ah, the acerbity and paranoia...I was beginning to wonder...> He shakes his head. <That combination leads to an antisocial condition, your condition despite what you claim...and no wonder since you have each in spades. But to address your query, it's your body, do whatever you wish with it.> His tone remains neutral.
-
"What?" Gene asks blankly, looking up from his beer bottle, into which he had been staring, lost in thought.
He clears his throat. "Uh. I suppose I haven't exactly been the best conversationalist," he says with a sheepish smile. "I do that a lot."
With renewed interest, he peers at Ossanlin and says tentatively, "You seem to know Terenia pretty well. You guys go back farther than just the whole Efaen mess?"
-
Downing the rest of the drink in a couple gulps, Austin says to Simon 'Sounds like a plan then.'
Standing up, Austin motions for Simon to lead the way 'Oh, before we get to your ship, we need to stop by my fighter so I can quickly grab a couple things'
-
"Ok." Simon said. He got up and started walking towards the door. He kept an eye on Austin to make sure he didn't fall over. Though he didn't seem to have too much trouble walking to his seat. "What is your fighter like?"
-
'It's nothing too special, really.' Austin said as he caught up to Simon as fast as his injuries would allow him 'Basically, it's just a short-range fighter, but I got some modifications to the engines and fuel cells to enable long-distance space travel'
Pointing to a rather dodgy looking ship parked close to the bar, Austin said, proudly 'There she is. She may not look pretty, but well... she's had a good life. About time for retirement, I reckon. Especially considering that I've nowhere else to go.'
In the full light, the ship is covered in metal sheeting, similar to a patchwork job. The base colour was once Dark Goldenrod, but here and there, are dull grey patches of thick metal. Covering the nose of the ship, are distinct scorch marks of reentry, and mounted under the small wings which extend about three feet from either side of the ship (about 4 feet from the nose) are a couple small antimatter bombs and some repeating laser cannons, all rather deadly looking.
((for a basic idea for the fighter, think of a slightly modified F-14 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/F14_Tomcat)))
-
"Looks like a nice ship." Simon said. Simon and Jocun were used to being surrounded by much better looking ships, but of course a miner wasn;t going to have the same type of fighter as a trained war veteran. He walked up towards the ship, keeping pace with Austin. "If you need, I can carry what you're after. No need for you to do too much at one time."
-
'Thanks Simon. Sure, she's not as pretty as some of the other ships here, but back in the day, she was the best money could buy. I bought her for a bargain off one of my old military buddies. Weapon systems still intact, too!' he said rather proud of himself.
'Now, all I really need to get from her are the laser mechanisms, a couple of the crystals and their respective power packs. Have you got a hover trolley or something to cart the everything to the work area?'
Pressing a small, almost hidden button on the underside of the wing, the ****pit cover opens to allow access. Using the built-in handholds, Austin gingerly climbs up to the pilots seat and sits down. Reaching under the control panel, Austin pulls out a small wooden box, about 7 inches by 4 inches by 3 inches. Climbing down, he opens the box, revealing that it's full of cigars and a solid silver cigar cutter, with "Sylvia" engraved on it.
Removing a cigar for himself and offering one to Simon, he cuts the end off of one and lights it, taking a couple of puffs.
-
"Yeah, I've got something to haul stuff." Simon said as he checked out the interior of the ship. "Thanks, but I don't smoke." He said when offered the cigar. "I probably shouldn't drink either, but nobody's perfect."
He left the ship, and took off at a jog for his own to grab a hover cart. After a short while he came back and brought it into the ship.
-
OOC: let me know if I do something wrong plz
A small green reptilian creature opened the door. it's body was covered in small blades. It looked around, seeing some interesting creatures. It proceeded to sit away from them, to shy to actually talk to any of them.
-
'Alright then, while you're getting the hover cart, I'll get started on getting these laser cannons.' Austin said to Simon as he was running off to get the things.
Taking a couple more puffs on his cigar, he pulled out the little tool kit that he had stashed in a locked compartment on the outside of the ship, and went to work on loosening the bolts on the laser cannons.
-
Terenia's scowl deepens. "I will do whatever I wish with it, thank you very much," she says in almost a growl. She glances at Gene. "Yeah. A bit. We met here when I was still living in that damned Andalite's head."
With an impatient, internal sigh, Esreth slips back into control. "Sorry, guys. She's just not in the best mood. Must be so much time away from Corliss." She winks at Gene. "This is the longest we've been separated since the honeymoon. Kandrona forbid Terenia would admit that she's dependent on someone for her well-being, but she really is, you know."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin raises an eyebrow at Terenia as Esreth takes control. <Apparently her question was meant as rhetorical though if it was she did an unfortunate job of specifying.> He turns his main eyes to Gene. <You could say so. I was responsible for retrieving Tamora, the original Tamora. I also retrieved Terenia's original genome from notlitization.>
-
Simon moved the cart under the laser cannon so it could be lowered, and raised some grasping arms to hold it with. "Whenever you have it ready to detach, I'll get it onto the cart. I don't know what kind of weapon you have in mind, but it shouldn't need to be too powerful."
-
Gene shakes his head, looking to Terenia.
"I'm sorry, but who's...Tamora?" he asks with a wince. "I'm really out of the loop, here."
-
Esreth's smile becomes a little strained at the wave of sour emotion that hits her from Terenia.
"Tamora was Terenia's sister," she says in the most neutral voice she can muster. "She died here after a failed attempt to rescue her from the Empire. One led by Ossanlin, as he just pointed out."
Pressing Terenia's lips together tightly, she swivels her stool around and gestures to the bartender, suddenly feeling the need for something a bit stronger.
-
<Indeed. I underestimated Tamora's rigid loyalty to the Empire. I had assumed that once she was free of her Yeerk, she would have to depend upon her sister. Such relationships usually have a way of healing the past. I was wrong, though I was not the one who killed her. Of course that makes me no less responsible for her death...I'm used to my decisions resulting in the deaths of others. I try to avoid it, but war has a way of taking life.> Ossanlin's tone remains neutral, though he can't completely suppress the bitter pang that accompanies thoughts of the people who had died because of his orders.
<Terenia herself killed Tamora, though I did not expect that to happen. I buried her body near the lake here and performed the death ritual myself.> Ossanlin drinks from the bowl at his hoof, pausing before continuing. <I was attempting to rectify some of the wrongs that my species had perpetuated upon Terenia. It was not an empty gesture, but Terenia always believed it was. Given the way it turned out, I'm sure she still believes that I did it only to hurt her. She seems incapable of believing anything else. I'm surprised she hasn't found a way to twist my reversion of her natural physical body into something malicious as well.>
-
Gene looks from Ossanlin to Terenia in quiet astonishment.
"****," he breathes. "Terenia, I didn't even know you had a sister. I...I'm sorry." Immediately his cheeks flush, which he turns away to try and hide.
-
"I don't advertise it," Terenia says to Gene quietly, her expression becoming significantly more troubled as she resumes control. "Things didn't exactly end well with her." She accepts the glass of redin from the bartender, staring into it moodily for a moment before addressing Ossanlin.
"It's good to know you still hold such a high opinion of me, Ossanlin," she says with a wan smile. "But you're wrong. I don't think that what you did was empty. I do think it was wrong of you to involve yourself in my business in the first place, but I am glad that someone was able to put her to rest." She clears her throat, blinking away sudden tears. "I certainly wasn't in any fit state to do so. So I thank you for that, at least."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin's expression softens, though he's not looking at either of the controllers. <I suppose I haven't given you a fair chance...I tend to overlook the fact that an entire standard year has passed for you while it has only been few days for me. I understand that a supportive relationship does tend to change a person's outlook, though I'm rather surprised you've allowed Corliss to get that close, and I don't mean physically.>
He darts his main eyes at Terenian. <So you no longer believe me to be the evil ruiner of lives?>
-
Terenia laughs humorlessly. "Like I said, Ossanlin, I still don't think you had any right to take my issue with my sister upon yourself. But...no, I don't think you're an 'evil ruiner of lives'. I've had a lot of rotten luck in my life, but I've also made a lot of ****ty decisions. Killing Tammy was one of them." She sighs a little, sipping the redin and wincing a little as it burns her throat. "If I'm being honest, Ossanlin, as great as my time with Corliss has been, this past year hasn't been that easy on me. I don't have the energy to hold grudges anymore."
-
'It's not going to be too powerful, so don't worry about that. I just need to source the firing circuits and the laser refraction crystals, to make a sort of hand held laser rifle' Once he had undone most of the mounting brackets, he said 'Be careful, it's a fairly fragile piece of machinery'
Undoing the final bolt, he helped Simon lower the cannon to the hover cart.
-
~Ossanlin~
<I see. I suppose some people are forced to open-mindedness merely to preserve sanity.>
-
"If that's how you want to think of it," Terenia says with a morose shrug. "I would chalk it up to exhaustion more than open-mindedness. If you really want me to work myself into a fury about your presence I'm sure I could manage it, but I'd much rather just sit here and drink, if it's all the same to you."
-
Parker raises an eyebrow at Terenia's new outlook. He says, "I'm glad you two have found common ground. I wouldn't want to have to jump between you guys again." His smile is again evident in his voice.
-
"Alright. It's secure. There's some room for more if you need anything else. Do you already have tools to work, or will you need some of mine? It shouldn't be too hard to figure out what does what, even if the names are different. What other kind of things can you build?"
-
"Hey, as long as he doesn't try to take over my life and solve my problems again, we'll be fine," Terenia says, sipping her redin again. It goes down easier this time. "I'm not sure you'd call that common ground, but whatever. I came here to relax, not pick a fight." She hesitates, then adds a little blandly, "And Esreth came here to make 'new and interesting friends', whatever that means."
-
~Ossanlin~
<You still believe it was my desire to control your life...I don't suppose you'll ever understand that it was my intent to repair at least a small portion of what my species had destroyed in that life. There were some outcomes that appeared to be quite negative. However I would ask do you find where you are now to be more tolerable, perhaps even more pleasant, than where you were then? And would you be where you are now if I had not taken the actions I took?> Ossanlin's tone is less bland and more conversational now, not implying anything, merely asking what are intended as thought-provoking questions.
-
'I just need to get a small power pack from inside the ****pit that I can use' With that, Austin climbed into the ****pit of the small fighter and started pulling apart the flight controls, looking for what he needs, all while still smoking his cigar.
Finding what he needed, he climbed down, and placed the small power pack down on the hover cart. It was rectangular in shape, with some small metal tabs one end, making it look somewhat like a lithium-ion battery, but slightly larger.
'What I'm making is actually a mining tool, but with a slightly larger crystal it'll be a pretty decent weapon. I was the head of the tools development team, so I can make a few different mining tools, along with some explosive charges, similar to the explosive called C4, but a lot more potent. I've dubbed the charge AX-1, but I never got a chance to test it. I've actually got a container of it locked away in my fighter with some timed detonation units.'
-
"That's interesting. I hope they pay you well. Mining's not the safest career, obviously, and someone of your knowledge would be valuable."
Simon carted the stuff to the ship, and made his way to the workshop. It wasn't a huge room, about twenty by twenty feet, with some space taken by tables and other equipment. The walls were lined with shelved of various tools. "Here's my shop. It's not the most organized thing in the galaxy, but it's well stocked. How shall we begin?"
-
Uncomfortable with the morbid line of conversation, Gene murmurs, "Esreth, I thought you and Terenia already had plenty of 'new and interesting friends'?" He smiles easily, although he is wringing his hands.
-
"I didn't realize that you were responsible for righting the wrongs of your people," Terenia shoots back, scowling a little. "I didn't ask for an apology, or any sort of repayment. I'm not stupid enough to blame your entire species for the evil actions of a few. I don't hold you accountable for what they did to me, although that is a very Andalite way of thinking. Considering one trait or action to represent the entire group."
She snorts derisively, about to take another sip of her drink when Gene gives Esreth an opening to step in again. The Yeerk does so gladly, smirking at him. "One can never have too many new and interesting friends," she says cheerfully, though she does glance at Ossanlin a bit warily. "Don't worry, you will always be one of my most interesting of friends." She smirks at Gene.
-
Ossanlin represses a flash of anger as easily as if the feeling never was, a natural reaction anymore. <So I see you haven't lost the ability to fixate upon and manipulate one statement whilst conveniently ignoring those which you cannot discuss without admitting something you do not wish to. Regardless of your scathing and possibly offensive statements, Terenia, my questions still stand.>
-
Esreth fixes Ossanlin with a mildly intrigued look. "Terenia would possibly be where she is, though perhaps not in the condition. She would have gone to the rebellion regardless. Corliss was the primary driver in that decision. Of course, without you she would not have regained her humanity, and likely would have lost Efaen as a host as well." She grins. "Terenia and I may have become friends much sooner if the two of us were stuck in the main pool together."
-
<And Tamora, Esreth? You have access to her memories...Tamora would've anchored her to Visser three more securely than anything else in the multiverse, just as she did before those events transpired. The Empire would've retained a morph-capable host in Efaen, and Terenia would've remained bound by her own creed. How could Terenia have joined the Rebellion when her only desire, her only need was to stay under Visser three's tail for her sister's sake?>
-
'Well,' Austin said, following Simon to the ship 'Our planet was ran by a council of people, and every different head of operations, be it Crystal Mining, Metal Mining, Research, whatever, had a seat on the council. As for the pay, yeah I had it pretty easy back home. It's a bit of a shock that I'll never be able to return though...' he trailed off in thought.
Walking up to the entrance of the workshop, Austin stubbed out his cigar on the sole of his boot, and placed it in the pocket of his jacket to finish it later. Placing the cigar box on a bench, he said 'Well, this'll do perfectly. It's very similar to what I used to have, tool selection wise. Have you got anything that can cut crystals, such as a laser cutter? As for where to start, we'll start with disassembling the laser cannon and sourcing the parts we need.'
-
"We'll try to get you home. I can't guarantee anything, but we'll explore the possibilities."
Simon grabbed a machine that was attached to the wall.The arm could swing in different directions. He also got some goggles out of a drawer. "Here's our laser cutter. You can do it manually or let it cut automatically." Once the cannon was on the table, he started looking to see what tools he'd need to start disassembling it. "The computer can make a list by voice command if you need."
-
"Corliss would have convinced her that there was a better course of action," Esreth says firmly, confidently. "The rebellion has had successful rescue missions in the past, and if she could have been a part of one under her own terms I see no reason why she would not have gone with him there."
She shrugs, pushing away the redin. "What happened happened, Andalite. We cannot change it, and it seems that despite the unfortunate side effect of Tamora's death it really has been beneficial for Terenia. But if you are expecting gratitude from her, you will have a long wait."
-
Salem shook his head. What the hell was in the drink he'd ordered? He appeared to have zoned out.
He looked up. Both Al and Rathien were looking at him expectantly. Rathien had asked something.
"Um... What?" he asked stupidly.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin rolls his eyes a bit before ordering another drink, this time somewhat more alcoholic. <I try not to expect gratitude from anyone, Esreth, it is my job and, I believe, the job of all beings to help those in need without any thought for recompense. And believe me, the last person I expect to receive gratitude from is Terenia. I thought perhaps I was hallucinating earlier when she all but thanked me for reverting her body.>
The bowl at the bar is replaced with a fresh one...as fresh as things got in this place anyway. <And I think you over-estimate Corliss' abilities. Perhaps now, if they had felt this way then...perhaps he could have done. But they did not feel then as they do now. Don't you think the first thing I tried to do was talk Terenia out of returning to Visser three? She was fixated upon returning, and the only way I could see to deviate her without bodily restraint was to liberate Tamora. It seemed like it would be an elegant arrangement, but anyone in my position knows that even the best-laid plans last only until their inception. I merely wanted Terenia to ask herself if her life is better now because of what happened...that is all.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ______
~Rathien~
Rathien raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Why Tobias...I never thought you'd be one to swoon." He chuckles to himself and adjusts his position in the booth, bringing his propped-up leg under the table. "Are you merely delirious from blood-loss or is your bright little mind too busy running through the possibilities of what we could accomplish together...?" He moves his soft-sole-booted right foot to rest up on the booth bench on the opposite side, nestling it provocatively between Salem's legs. The soft-leather boot, designed only to protect and not to dampen position sensation, allows the sole of Rathien's foot to bend and flex as naturally as if it were bare, and to feel everything it touches with exquisite detail.
Rathien arches his foot and applies a very small, non-painful amount of pressure, still smirking, and winks at Tobias, his under-table actions concealed from everyone but the trader himself...and perhaps that non-living construct of his. But Rathien doesn't allow thoughts of the android to sour his expression or his mood, as he continues to smirk and run his tongue across a fang in desire.
-
Parker chimes in candidly, "And bodily restraint wasn't exactly off the table when she was first going to leave. If I hadn't stopped your stooge, I'm not sure what he would've done to her. That, of course is before he got all goo-goo eyed for her."
-
~Ossanlin~
<That 'stooge' is my subordinate officer, and the correct term is Warrior. I would hope that you do not refer to the men under your command as 'stooges' and I would hope that you would take offense if others did. And he cares little for Terenia, it is Efaen that he is enamored with.> He doesn't allow his affront to show. Perhaps the armored human wasn't being purposefully offensive. At the least, being combative was always a last resort, especially over something such as this.
-
'Alright, to start, we're going to need to remove the outer casing of the cannon. If you look closely, there's all these arrow-like markings all over the casing? They point to the bolts holding it all in place. Once they are removed, the casing comes apart in sections, first allowing access to the crystal then to the other components inside.'
-
Simon grabbed two screwdrivers, and handed Austin one before getting to work. He unscrewed a section, putting the screws into a bowl, and placing the section to the side. The crystal inside looked better than the ones that were involved in the explosion. It was an interesting piece of technology, and he could imagine Salem would want to see it if he found out about it. Not that either of them were obligated to tell him anything.
-
Terenia's eyebrows raise. "Efaen is not the type of person anyone should become enamored with," Esreth comments, a little snidely. "Not that I ever met the twisted thing personally, but her actions certainly reverberated through the entire base. Not to mention I have Terenia's memories of her. An altogether nasty creature, and even if the rumors of her being somewhat more amiable these days are true, I wouldn't get near her."
She gives Gene a small, sympathetic smile, then turns back to the previous issue. "Ossanlin, yes, Terenia's life is better now than it was. Anything would be better than the cell she had resigned herself to. But you still forced her hand. And she still has had to cope with the death of her sister. While I do not doubt your intentions were noble, the end result was still quite a bit of pain."
<<All Andalites have noble intentions,>> Terenia mutters with a huff.
<<I'm aware,>> Esreth responds. <<Though I must admit I've never met one prior to today, and Ossanlin isn't exactly your typical Andalite, from what I have heard.>>
-
Gene touches Terenia's arm.
"Should I...should I go?" he whispers, eyes wide as he looks between her and Ossanlin. "This is a pretty uh, personal conversation."
-
"No, you're fine, Gene," Esreth says. "I'm sorry. Let's talk about more pleasant things, shall we?"
She gives Ossanlin a hopeful smile as she takes up the glass of redin and sips it, making a slight face as she swallows.
There is a loud clanking sound from outside, followed by the high-pitched squeal of poorly-maintained landing gear. Crimson light briefly illuminates the bar from outside, then fades away slowly.
A few minutes later the door to the bar is thrown wide open to admit the bar's newest occupant.
He is a tall, thin man, with strongly European features and tan skin. His dark hair is eloquently gelled upward into an array of spikes that each end in an electric blue color. His attire is in total contrast to the sawdust filled grunge of the bar; he is wearing a carefully tailored black pinstripe suit with a teal dress shirt and hot pink tie. There is a dark smudge of eyeliner beneath each of his dark blue eyes and a light sheen of gloss on his lips.
"Well," he says exuberantly, his voice raised to a volume that carries easily. He speaks English, but with a definite Slovak accent. "I can see that they have not tidied up at all since my last visit. Koja sramota. Ah well, it can't be helped I suppose. Bartender?" He strides over to the bar and runs a hand along the counter, clearing it of as much grime as possible before he sets his arms upon it. "I will have a Rajika with cherries, please. And quickly, it has been far too long since I have had a strong drink."
-
"Yeah," Gene says with a shy smile, shoving one hand in his jeans pocket and clinging to his beer. "I am sorry about your sister, Terenia."
His melancholy expression undergoes a complete turnaround when he spots the well-dressed new arrival.
"Hey!" he calls, grinning from ear to ear. He gestures with his beer. "That was fast!"
-
Esreth lets Terenia answer. She shrugs, looking down at her glass. "Everyone's lost people," she says quietly, glumly. "It's a war, right?" She glances back up at Gene with a small smile, but his attention has been diverted so instead she finishes her glass.
The man looks up from the entirely unimpressed bartender at the sound of Gene's voice. He grins brightly, teeth gleaming. "Gene, fancy seeing you here!" he says loudly, winking. The bartender brings him his drink, and he takes the small glass of potent liquor and rounds the counter to where Gene and the small group are.
"A most advantageous shift in Z-space, my friend," he says to Gene by way of explanation, leaning over and giving him a quick kiss on top of his curls. "Ah, Terenia!" He immediately dives in and also kisses Terenia, one peck to each cheek. She pushes away, a scowl coming over her expression.
"And that's my cue to leave," she says sourly, standing.
The man pays her no mind, chuckling and looking to Ossanlin and Parker.
"Ah, I am afraid we have not met. My name is Dominic Ticak, though you may call me Dom." He gives a small little bow, still grinning. "Pleased to make all of your acquaintances. As pleased, I am sure, as you are to make mine."
-
"You're exceptionally cheerful tonight," Gene says with a wary smile, giving Dom's hand a squeeze. "I'm glad you're here, things were getting really morose in this corner of the room."
He lets him go and turns to Terenia. "Aw, come on, you can't seriously let him scare you off that quickly. Dom, you know you can't just run up and kiss Terenia, it's too...I dunno, European." He smirks, glancing down at Dom's drink. "Is that a Shirley Temple?" He snorts derisively. "What are you, like, five years old?"
-
~Ossanlin~
<There was no way I could allow Terenia to take a morph-capable host back into Imperial hands, Esreth...I don't understand how you cannot see how unacceptable...how foolish that is on the face of it. Terenia claimed she would be killed if she went back without Efaen. You don't think my hand wasn't forced at least a tad?> He pauses and shakes his head. <Efaen was a particularly severe victim of her own government. Yes, she was weak-minded enough to believe everything she was told on the face, but ultimately she cannot be held entirely responsible for her own actions. And Terenia was, at the time, a fairly kindred mind in the twisted department. I'm glad you have healed some, Terenia...I'm sure Corliss has played none too small a part in that.>
During the conversation Ossanlin notes the changes in light quality and the loud sounds outside. Shortly after he finishes speaking, his stalk eyes note the figure of what appears to be a human male walking into the bar. He seems to possess a strange way, not to mention some sort of accent. As the newcomer addresses him, Ossanlin glances at him with his main eyes. <Greetings...Dom.>
-
<<Do not take control,>> Terenia snaps, sensing Esreth's inclination to do so and avoid unpleasantness.
"Ossanlin," Terenia says, her cheeks flushing angrily. She ignores Gene's comment about Dom altogether. "All of our hands were forced. I have never doubted that your honor-bound Andalite sentiments made you feel compelled to 'help' me, to 'help' Efaen, and to 'help' my sister. I'm sorry that my appearance here put you in such a miserable position, but at the end of it all, no matter who was forced into what, I am still the one who lost someone, so I would appreciate it if everyone just shut the hell up about the situation and moved on with their damn lives like I'm trying to do."
With eyes narrowed angrily, Terenia stomps away from the group. She doesn't go far, finding an empty booth in the shadows and flumping into the seat with a sullen expression.
Dom watches Terenia go with an expression of sympathy. "Poor girl," he murmurs. "If anyone needed a good party, it is her." His expression brightens again as it shifts back to Gene. "And why wouldn't I be in an exceptionally good mood, my friend? I am here, I am with you. There are new people to meet. And I can have a proper drink." He smirks widely. "Would you like to try some of my Shirley Temple?" he asks Gene, offering him the glass. He winks at Ossanlin, as if the Andalite is in on some joke.
-
Gene frowns at Terenia's irritable exit.
"Uh," he says distractedly, tearing his gaze away from her and towards Dom. "Let me guess, that's not grenadine and Sprite." He gives Dom a knowing grin and touches the man's upper arm lightly before excusing himself from the group, as well.
He trudges over to Terenia.
"You know," he says conversationally, wincing in case Terenia decides to yell, "this is my antisocial corner. I don't think you can have it." He smiles hesitantly.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin nods, content to drop the subject, not that he has much choice in the matter with Terenia already walking away. He glances again at "Dom", not allowing his inexplicable discomfort with the human to show on his face. At least she hadn't exploded...that showed considerable improvement.
-
Salem glanced down when Rathien's boot made its way onto the bench. He could feel himself hardening... it seemed that Rathien's energy needed to be channeled somewhere. When it wasn't hunting or taunting, did it always default to the provocative?
He smirked at Rathien, "A little of both, probably. Don't you have hunting to be doing or something?" He turned and boredly clicked his persona scanner in the direction of the man who'd entered the bar.
Al, on the other hand, turned an raised an eyebrow when the man with the spiked hair entered. Something about his manner caught the android's eye.
"Hello, what's this?" He looked from Rathien to Salem and sighed. "Excuse me, gentlemen. As thrilling as this is, I think I'll take my leave for now." He stood and walked to the bartender, to whom he muttered something. He then took a seat at the bar, and reached down underneath his stool, from where he pulled a fedora with a red feather, which he donned at an angle.
A few moments later, the bartender set a drink in front of Dom. It would look and taste like a light ale, but the bubbles within glowed like tiny fireflies, popping in a small sparkle when they reached the surface.
Salem watched, somewhat dejectedly, as Al walked away, then rolled his eyes and turned back to Rathien. "Sidekicks..."
-
~Rathien~
Rathien spares only a glance at Al as he moves away. "You know what I think of your sidekick already." He continues to massage with his soft-booted foot with just a very small amount of pressure. "But hey, you almost got him to kill me once...that's something." His grin grows wider as his boot-clad foot perceives the firming sensation from Tobias. "So...you weren't just bluffing when you said you were interested. One can never be sure with you, Tobias."
Rathien's eyes take on a deeper, almost fiery light, but he controls his breathing carefully. He can feel his own body once again responding to the contact with Tobias, even though he himself had initiated and was maintaining the contact. Just the feeling of Tobias's response is enough to remind him just how long it's been for him as well. He briefly considers moving around the table to sit next to Salem just to get a handful of what his foot is only partially able to perceive, but he suppresses his desire, digging the claws of his right hand into the wood of the table, settling for a tad more pressure with his foot. "Hmm...mmm...you seem to have clipped my wings, Tobias...leashed me. How can I hunt when I am constrained so? I suppose you could release me. But you won't do that will you? So perhaps I can work on releasing you first." He smirks again, running his foot around to feel the contours of his desire once more before regretfully removing it from the tantalizing contact, planting it safely on the floor under the booth. His own undergarment was beginning to become a tad bit uncomfortable, and even in a place like this, there was some need for decorum.
"If you refuse to let me go, Tobias...you're partially responsible for my needs." He shrugs, controlling his breathing and baser urges with sheer will. He's actually slavering in his mouth with the deep, nearly-uncontrollable carnal desire...when was the last time that had even happened? He suppresses another strong urge to slip around to the other side of the booth. This was dangerous...it had been far too long, and Tobias was too attractive a target for his amorous attentions. There is a danger of losing control of the situation, but for whatever reason, Rathien simply cannot make himself care. He wants satisfaction from Salem in the worst way. He schools his features and leans back in the booth, trying to emanate an air of relaxation and unconcern.
-
Dom's gaze follows Gene to the booth, but he does not follow, acknowledging that when it comes to the likes of Terenia, his presence is most certainly not welcome. Instead, he turns his attention back to the Andalite, who has yet to mention his name, and the armored man who has, as of yet, been silent.
"Fabulous evening, isn't it?" he comments off-handedly, grinning so that all his teeth show. His expression shifts to curious when the bartender places the strangely luminescent drink in front of him. His dark eyebrows raise. "Što je ovo?" he asks of the bartender, who doesn't even shrug, just turns away and goes back to perpetually drying his glass.
Shrugging himself, Dom lifts the glass and sniffs it before taking a small sip. "Ah--delightful!" he says cheerfully, looking up and down the bar for the bearer of the gift.
Terenia looks up at Gene glumly. "I hate this place," she says flatly, kicking at the leg of the table. "Don't know why I bother coming here."
-
Gene frowns, watching Terenia for a heartbeat before sitting down across from her.
"Why don't we head home, huh? I mean, if you want company, I can fly out with you." He glances over his shoulder at Dom. "He knows how to take care of himself."
-
Terenia shrugs, staring down at the table. "I guess. I just wanted to take a break from base, you know? Probably could've picked a better place." She looks up at Gene. "You don't have to babysit me, you know. I know you'd rather be having fun with Dom than watching me sulk."
-
"I'm not babysitting you Terenia," Gene says with a small smile, leaning on his arm. "I can't have fun when my friends are feeling bad."
He watches her for a moment. "And hell, from what it sounds like? You've been through a lot of...of...Terenia, I wish I'd known. That's...losing someone like that, it's so hard." He sighs. "We could have had our own pity fest a long time ago."
-
"I don't like talking about it," Terenia says with a small shrug. She looks towards the grimy windows, in the general direction of the lake. "I spent a long time -- years -- trying to save my sister, and in the end I just wind up killing her." She heaves a sigh. "It was stupid and I joined the rebellion to move on from that...that part of my life."
-
Salem's breath caught in his throat at Rathien's continued contact. He found himself imagining how this could turn out... how things could go... how much harm could just one time do? His eyes fluttered shut...
What am I thinking? a voice in the back of his head seemed to be saying to him. The whole little episode couldn't have lasted more than a second or two, but Salem could feel his ears growing hot. Losing control of himself here would never do.
He forced himself to smirk at Rathien, in what he hoped was a look of judgmental disinterest, but made no effort to move away. "Work before play, Rathien. You seem like a strong, independent kind of guy. I'm sure you can find a way to take care of your own needs. In the meantime, I have a job to work out. If you're lucky, it'll involve you, too."
Al caught the spiky-haired newcomer looking in his direction. He flashed a grin and tipped his hat. As he did, blue stripes seemed to trickle down the length of his tuxedo, the whole getup changing, quickly and subtly, until he was wearing a pinstriped suit that would have been right at home in the 1920's.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien reads Salem's reactions despite his facial expression. Oh yes...this could become interesting...it would become interesting if Rathien has his way. "Work before play means you never get off, Tobias." He smirks back. "Me, I think every opportunity should be seized with a firm grip and milked for all it's worth."
Rathien continues to control his facial features, but he knows his body must be pumping out pheromones like an animal in heat. At least Salem couldn't detect those. He has the feeling that were he and Tobias to play out even one of the scenarios that refuse to stop running through his head, the results would be stunning. That hitch in Salem's throat betrayed an ability to lose control, and Rathien himself had always been a ferocious lover, abandoning himself to his base desires. Such a deviant coupling would be...animal...raw.. .perhaps even frenzied. Rathien bites down a bit on his lower lip to try and quench some of the fiery desire running rampant through his body. The fabric of his flex-armor pants draw tight, almost painfully so, beneath the table before he finally manages to reign his imagination in and quell his body's response. Yes...it would have to happen at some point, there was no dodging the certainty of that now.
"I'd be lucky? I'm good, as good as you if not better. You'd be the lucky one, Tobias. If you choose to involve me that is." Rathien takes a deep breath, trying to focus on the mundane portions of their interplay.
-
Upon removing the crystal casing, Austin said to Simon 'Now, we need to slowly remove the crystal, careful to not damage it, or the surrounding components.' Earthing himself on the metal bench, he carefully pulled the crystal out and placed it on a rag.
Removing the rest of the screws holding the casing, he removed the center section, revealing a rather complex looking circuit board and three refraction lenses about five centimeters in diameter. 'These lenses focus the energy that's transmitted from the battery pack through the circuit board, then through the crystal to produce the resulting laser beam.'
'It's a fairly complex piece of machinery, but once it's put together I'll give you a demonstration' he chuckled as he carefully removed the lenses and started unscrewing the circuit-board.
-
"And you keep coming here to...what, punish yourself by reminding yourself of your past?" Gene asks softly. "Trust me, Terenia, that's not the way to live your life. I've done that to myself for far too long."
-
"It's an interesting piece of machinery. If things like this are common in your world, I see you are fairly well off in scientific progress." Simon worked on taking other parts of the machine apart for organizing and salvage. "I hear there's a makeshift firing range around here that we can test the new weapon on. Someone mentioned it while I was at the table with him, though I doubt the invitation included me. While attempting to make friends with someone at his table, I seemed to have annoyed him somehow into disliking me."
-
"It appears that I'm a bit of a masochist," Terenia responds glumly. "I've never been good at pulling myself out of the past. I've done too many ****ty things."
Dom's grin widens when he sees the holographic shift in apparel and he takes up the drink, nodding to his current company. "If you'll excuse me," he says. "I believe my attention is needed elsewhere." He backs away from them, moving to where Al is sitting.
"My dear friend," he says brightly, "you simply must tell me how you do that." His eyes wander down the suit appreciatively.
-
Gene smiles mirthlessly. "You sound a lot like me," he sighs, shifting his weight to his other arm. "Except I guess I haven't done too many awful things. I just blame myself for things that I can't go back and change, and I make myself feel guilty far too much."
He turns to glance over at Dom again, rubbing the back of his neck. "Terenia, do you want a drink?" he asks quietly.
-
She smiles faintly. "You know, if you buy me a drink this constitutes a date," she says quietly. "At least, I'm pretty sure those are the rules." She watches him for a moment, then reaches over and snags his hand. "You shouldn't feel bad about anything, Gene," she says. "You're one of the most genuine people I've ever met. If you can't feel good about yourself, then I'm a lost cause."
-
The stranger trudges barefoot through the wasteland of his homeland, a solid days trek from his shelter, scavenging. It's a relatively cool day, little more than one hundred and eight degrees fahrenheit, cool enough to walk without a helmet and feel the sun on his scales.
An arid sun burns high in the midday sky, the rays of light reflecting off the strangers full body copper armor, an aesthetic choice of colour as well as a tactical one to help the stranger blend in with the desert wasteland that surrounds him. The stranger stops, stretching, arms outstretched. The day has been comfortably easy so far. The hydraulics and mechanics of his armor have done most of the hard work of his trek for him and the built-in temperature regulators have kept his body temperature comfortably high. The comfortable weight of the rifle slung over the strangers right shoulder reassures him of his safety and the greater weight of his woodcutters axe similarly reassures the stranger of his preparedness for a close quarters encounter.
Tasting the air with a forked tongue, the strangers tail twitches lazily from left to right, a sign of his content, a slight clicking noise eliciting from his beak.
A small glint of light caught the strangers attention, his slitted, bronze eyes quickly focusing on the source nearly twenty feet away. Curiously, the stranger approached the object. If he was lucky, the stranger hoped to find electrical components that he could wire to the solar cells of his shelter, or a fusion cell to use as backup power for his rifle. His armor was in no need of power yet, its' own core still holding enough power for another two generations, but he could always use more scrap materials to serve as ammunition.
Wait. Spoke his armors AI, the induction audio utilizing sub-sonic vibrations to send minute vibrations through the strangers bones and scales, stimulating his ear drums to communicate silently with its' wearer. Light refraction denotes possible explosive charge. Continued the AI, its' 'voice' a deep vocal distortions that was all too familiar to the stranger, Either a discarded mine or grenade. Scavenger trap is also a possibility.
The stranger hissed quietly in agitation. He'd been reckless, approaching the object with no sense of cautions. He'd started relying too much on his armors' AI and had neglected his own common sense and forethought. Slowly unslinging the rifle from over his shoulder, the stranger gripped the weapon firmly in his clawed hands. He knew that he had no chance of hiding with his helmet off, the green of his scales stood in stark contrast to the barren wasteland around him, causing the stranger even greater agitation due to his own ignorance.
Creeping forward slowly, the stranger crept closer towards the object. Suddenly, he heard the sand shift behind him as the ground gave way behind him, just under his foot, causing the stranger to careen backwards.
Pungi pit trapdoor behind us. The AI remarked, uselessly as the stranger toppled back.
Suddenly, with a crash of what sounded like smashing glass, the stranger landed heavily on a countertop, the barren sky suddenly replaced by an unfamiliar ceiling.
-
Gene grins sheepishly, letting his hand worm around in hers so he can grip her palm.
"Thanks, Terenia," he says earnestly, hoping she won't notice that his own palm is clammy with sweat.
He opens his mouth to say more, but is interrupted by a riotous crash through the bar's ceiling.
With a start he pulls his hands back, his right automatically going for his Dracon, fumbling. He turns and stares at the mess of splinters and armor and tail that has appeared, unceremoniously, on top of the bar counter.
The bartender, calmly drying his glass, turns his pudgy and apron-clad form towards the new arrival. He stares blankly at the stranger, constantly rubbing at smudge of grease on the dirty beer stein, over and over. The dark-haired man--or creature--says nothing.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin watches the curious human move off toward the simulated humanoid before a crash of metal on wood and glass triggers his combat training. He steps away from the cacophony and immediately arches his tail, his dual katana flowing from their saiya fluidly, almost seeming to appear in his hands as his arms flow into combat readiness. His senses grow heightened as he surveys all angles of the bar with both stalk-eyes, his main eyes locked on the strange, armored figure laying on the bar counter.
-
The stranger lay dazed on the countertop, vision blurred and head spinning, with his rifle still clutched in his right hand, his hand and rifle resting on an empty barstool.
Punji %$#@* One hundered and eight %$#@* MP-47 medical stimulant injecting %$#@* Spatial relocation %$#@* Damaged central processor %$#@* Administering MP-47.
A mixture of static and words erupted from the armor's AI, projected not only through induction but also over the armor's audio system in the clicks, growls and whistles of the strangers native tongue as the AI attempted to assess and calibrate.
From inside the suit a series of small needles found their way under the strangers scales and injected a medical stimulant reserved for serious, life threatening injury, the armor's AI still under the mistaken belief that its' wearer had been impaled on the sharpened metal spikes of the punji pit it had been plummeting towards seconds before.
The needles injected the stimulant into the spine of the stranger, paying little heed to sensitivity or pain levels in what the AI falsely assumed was a life and death situation.
"ArrrggghhAAARRRGGGH HHAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRR RRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGG GGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" The stranger cried out in intense pain, in a sound not dissimilar to a large bird of prey in immense pain, the strangers back arching off the countertop, trying to pull himself away from the needles, his huge, seven-foot frame thrashing on the countertop.
Severe data loss %$#@* Diagnosis %$#@* Protocol files deteriorated %$#@* Wireless capabilities present %$#@* Moral restrictions absent %$#@* Honour contingency absent %$#@* Artificial personality facing rapid deterioration %$#@* All other functions nominal %$#@* Reboot via host necessary %$#@* Host permissions unobtainable at this time %$#@* Referring to moral restrictions and protocol files for guidance %$#@* Files damaged or absent %$#@* Reboot authorised.
The needles retracted back into the suit momentarily before a separate set of needles appeared within the armor, this time concentrated at the base of the neck where the strangers spine met with his skull. With little hesitation, the needles bypassed the strangers green scale and pierced his flesh followed by a crack of electricity that traveled through the needles into the strangers brain, instruments in the the suit monitoring neurons, brain waves and other cognitive functions, observing and mimicking them.
The stranger made no noise as his body seized and convulsed from the intense electrical current, the breath in his lungs already spent from his scream. His right hand convulsed the gripped the trigger of his rifle, firing the weapon into the empty barstool.
CRRRACCCKKK!!!
The stool began to quickly freeze solid.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the needles retracted into the suit, the stranger collapsing back in a tortured heap. The entire ordeal had taken little more than a few seconds, but the pain had seemed to last much longer.
That'll do it. The AI spoke up, Complete success. Moral restrictions and protocol files missing still, but they only really get in the way.
The stranger weakly tried to rise, managing little more than to roll off the countertop, shattering the frozen barstool.
Oh yeah, clicked the suit in recognition, The host. Whoops.
With that, the stranger drifted into unconsciousness.
-
Terenia's own focus is lost at the overwhelming ruckus of a new arrival. She jumps about a foot, her hand yanking away from Gene's and towards her Dracons. By the time her hands find the dual weapons, though, it is clear that whatever it is that has appeared does not mean her direct harm.
With wide eyes she watches as it thrashes and gesticulates on the bar counter, glad, for once, that her sour mood led her to the shadows of the bar. Whether it meant harm or no, it a mis-intended blow from a flailing alien limb was not high on her list of priorities.
She is jolted a second time when the rifle goes off, and now she does pull her right Dracon, aiming it in the general direction of the chaos, but not shooting. Instead she gives Gene a puzzled, alarmed look.
"Just another drop in?" she asks hopefully.
Dom, being much closer to the bar when the newcomer arrives, finds himself jumping backwards to avoid the imminent danger of an alien creature in seemingly massive amounts of pain. Holding his glass of alcohol close, sipping it to avoid spilling it, he backs away. "Ah," he says to Al loudly, wincing at the shriek of the creature. "It seems we picked a poor time for introductions."
<<It is in pain,>> the disembodied voice of his Yeerk says, sounding concerned.
<<Yes, and it is also quite large and quite armored,>> Dom responds. <<I don't wish to be injured today. Or for my suit to incur injury, as it were.>>
-
Gene starts as Dom staggers backwards, watching the scene from the edge of his bench seat.
"An incredibly dramatic one," he replies to Terenia in a hushed voice, his own Dracon finally in his hand.
He winces again at the thrashing and screeching of the strange armored creature. Somehow he is unable to keep himself from thinking of a Hork-Bajir, and he stares, frozen with fascination and concern.
The safety of the people near the bar shakes him out of his stupor. "Dom, get the hell away from there, he's got some kind of gun, for crying out loud," he calls, waving Dom over to the relative safety of their booth.
-
'Yeah, we're pretty high-tech in our weapons department. Our planet was subject to enemy raids and bandit attacks from nearby galaxies.' With that, Austin had removed all the components from the cannons housing and was left with an empty metal case.
Thinking aloud Austin muses 'How are we going to do this?' he scratched his head, his tail moving agitatedly.
-
Dom glances towards the booth at the sound of Gene's voice and holds up his beer in acknowledgment.
"Perhaps we should move away from this beast," he says to Al in a low voice, watching the now seemingly unconscious creature warily. "If he awakens again I do not want to be in the way of that weapon. Come, we can join my dear friends over in that booth."
When the creature falls unconscious, Terenia's grip on the Dracon loosens somewhat, though she keeps it out. "No, don't invite him over here," she says to Gene, groaning a little. "He's fine over there doing...whatever it is he does."
-
"I thought you already had an idea." Simon said. "Let's see. First we're going to need the body of a firearm. I have some parts to put together some of various sizes. Just decide on how big you want it to be. After that we'll use the parts in the canon to make it functional, using the crystal as the power source. How does that sound?"
-
Gene fixes Terenia with a deprecating, almost injured stare. "They could get hurt, Terenia," he says flatly, his own Dracon still in his hand. "I think that's a little more important than your comfort level around Dom, don't you?"
-
Salem smirked and leaned in close to Rathien. "You're less patient and subtle than you think you are, Rathien, and you have your weird sense of fate," he said, trying to steer the subject elsewhere, to get his head away from the... stimulating... images Rathien now had running through it. "Even so, you might have your uses, but I can't..."
He was interrupted by a crash and an armored creature landing on the bar. Instinctively, he drew his weapon- an action made slightly awkward by his position in the booth. After a second, he pulled out his persona scanner with his left hand and clicked it at the newcomer. He watched warily as it screamed and flailed.
The creature was reptilian and armored- Salem glanced at Parker momentarily before deciding that this was apparently not the same technology. He didn't recognize the species. While he wasn't terribly eager to get involved, the being might prove useful- a friendly introduction at a time like this could go a long way towards future partnerships.
Salem started to get up, then saw that Al was moving towards the creature. That might be for the best. The android had a more agreeable... "bedside manner" than Salem. He slid back into his seat.
Salem turned back to Rathien. "You could always see what's up with that," he said, nodding towards the newcomer.
Al dipped his hat slightly as Dom walked over. "A hologram and a sense of style," he answered with a laugh.
Suddenly, there was a large... something... falling onto the bar. Al jumped up and back, and cringed as it screamed. "This is actually pretty typical for introductions here. Not sure we could have found a better time." He glanced over towards the booth Dom had indicated- Terenia was there, along with a man he didn't know. He then glanced down at the unconscious creature.
"Um... I'll join you in a minute," he said, then turned and moved towards the newcomer. He turned back and flashed a sheepish smile, "I'm Al, by the way."
He knelt down next to the unconscious reptilian, eying its weapon warily. "Hey," he said gently in Gallard, "Can you hear me?"
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin assesses the situation as the strange being falls silent and determines the threat level to be minimal. He sheathes his twin katana and steps a bit closer to the armored individual, inspecting the strange technology. Despite the apparent automation in the armor, it looks oddly primitive in other ways. He glances at Al. <It would appear that he is unconscious.>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________
~Rathien~
Rathien's foot twitches as if to move back into the welcoming position it had been in a few moments before, but he wills it to remain on the floor. "There are times for subtlety and times for forwardness. As for patience..." He raises his hands apologetically, "I'm merely flesh and blood, though you have an uncanny ability to coax stone fro..." He ceases his speech as a loud crash echos through the bar. His Entroper is in his hand immediately and aimed at the individual thrashing on the bar counter. He watches Salem from the corner of his eye until the strange, armored being lays still. He glances at the frozen stool before stowing his Entroper and moving his full gaze back to Salem.
"Don't be foolish, Tobias. Your false life-form is already there, and you know how much I loathe him. Besides, it's much more...pleasant...t o stay right where I am. I'm afraid my ship isn't really large enough, but I'm sure your stolen vehicle could afford us more than enough room." He smirks and quirks an eyebrow. "Or we could simply continue to sit here, bathing in a pool of our own heat pheromones whilst making idle chit-chat and pretending there's nothing here. But then I suppose you might not want to let your guard down, eh? Might be a little too dangerous for you...I don't blame you, I can get a little...rough."
-
The large, reptilian stranger lay motionless on the floor, still unconscious. The suits AI, however, still functioned. It's sensors and cameras' saw a largish, blue equine creature in the process of sheathing its' blades whilst a soft, pink... thing knelt next to the suit and its' host. Several other creatures were around it, brandishing weapons of some kind, but they weren't weapons that the AI recognised.
The equine seemed to be commenting on the state of the suits' host using Brain-Banter, leading the AI to assume that the creature was a powerful psionic of some kind. The soft pink thing, however, seemed to be baring its' teeth and speaking with crude grunts of some kind. The AI quickly decided that the psionic equine was the owner of the this poor, grunting, primitive thing and that it must have been baring its' teeth in a display of protection of its' master.
The AI let out a quick, shrill squawk to startle the animal.
It assessed the situation accordingly. Clearly the suit was outnumbered and outgunned. The pink thing looked like its' teeth wouldn't do much harm to either it or the Wearer, but the suit still had no way of moving without being shot down almost immediately, and there was no way of knowing what those weapons did. Yet.
The suit made a judgement call and decided to talk to the pink things' owner.
You there, talking equine, the AI addressed the blue psionic in its' musical chirps, letting through just enough squawk to convey dominance, Your pet doesn't have to worry, my Wearer is out slow. A shock like that will keep him out for a couple of days. I'd reign in your animal, though. I wouldn't want to give it the same shock.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin winces at the unpleasant noise the unconscious being emits before quirking an eyebrow as the being talks to him...or rather as something talks to him. <You...are an artificial intelligence.> He glances at Parker with a stalk eye, his main eyes remaining on the individual. <A disturbing phenomenon that seems to be cropping up around here.>
<I assure you I am not an...what did you call it...equine? And that individual is not my pet. He is, in fact, another artificial intelligence...and a free being of his own right. You should know that should you decide to attack, hostile force will be met in kind.> Ossanlin hopes that the machine can intercept his thought-speech...it is always better to avoid hostilities after all.
-
Salem laughed, "Rough I can handle. It's over-eager that I take issue with." With a sigh, he re-holstered his weapon. He had control of himself again, it seemed- as his adrenaline rush receded, his desire seemed to go with it. He couldn't be getting involved with the hunter. Not now, at least.
"Stick around, then, but I do have work to do." He then smirked and asked in what he hoped was an infuriatingly condescending voice, "Think you can behave yourself while daddy makes some phone calls?"
Al jumped at the loud squawk emitted from the creature's suit, but didn't back away much. He ****ed his head to listen to the series of chirps that followed. It was definitely some kind of machine language- the being was unconscious, but its suit seemed to be speaking for itself. By the time it had finished, he'd heard enough to be able to translate the gist of what it was saying. As had Ossanlin, apparently; not too surprising, considering they were probably using the same translator.
He laughed when Ossanlin spoke, "I'm not that disturbing, am I?" he asked the Andalite. "You want to see a disturbing AI, you should meet my cousin Getrix. Space-cherry farmer. Lives in a top-hat. Terrified of pod people."
He turned back to the creature and its suit, going back to his soothing, nonthreatening voice, "No need to shock anyone here. Nobody wants to hurt you." He shrugged towards Ossanlin, "Not sure it understands me. You might have to play diplomat here."
-
The AI listened to the Brain-Banter of the blue not-an-equine and reassessed the soft creature that had jumped away from its' squawk. Apparently it was some sort of machine itself, but why it was wearing such soft flesh for its' armour made no sense at all.
Slowly, the AI suit lifted itself into a sitting position, its' unconscious Wearer unprotesting, holding the suit, and the strangers', arms out wide. Hopefully the gesture of 'I don't intend to shoot you' was a universal one with these creatures.
No shooting. Understood. The AI replied.
The soft machine creature seemed to be grunting again, at the suit then at the blue creature. The AI regarded the situation carefully. The blue creature may be a psionic, but if this soft creature really was another AI then it could possibly help bridge this language gap. The suit had never heard of 'free' AI that wore flesh instead of being worn by flesh though. Perhaps a renegade AI? Maybe the blue creature really was what it appeared to be, a beast of burden.
The suit considered for a moment that it had possibly offended the soft machine by addressing its' pack animal as its' owner, but then decided it didn't care much.
The suit switched to binary communication and spoke to the soft machine, The psionic says you're AI. Do you have some wireless capabilities so I can update my language database and translator? I have no idea what language you're grunting.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin steps back as the AI erects itself. He commands his ARC to perform an analysis of the armor and weapon with private thought-speech. He moves a stalk eye to regard Al as he speaks, and frowns at the AI's ridiculous and nonsensical joke. He finds himself idly wondering if Al ever told the truth about anything. <I merely meant that it is disturbing that so many comparatively less-advanced species have somehow developed artificial intelligence...appa rently without taking the necessary prerequisite steps. And I wasn't referring directly to you.>
He addresses the suit again. <The language he was speaking is known as Gallard. It is the accepted interstellar language of trade.> He falls silent and listens as the machine switches to binary code, waiting to see if Al can interpret or speak the archaic language.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____
~Rathien~
Rathien holsters his entroper and bares his fangs in an expression that some might be stupid enough to interpret as a smile before throwing his boots up on the table and leaning back in the booth, placing both hands behind his head. "If you can wait, darling, so can I. Just remember, I can make your life heaven or hell. Pleasure or pain... I'd much prefer the pleasure...it's easier that way, and more...gratifying.. .for the both of us. But I have a feeling I'd still enjoy causing the pain at least a little. I'm feeling generous enough to leave that choice up to you." The new angle allows him to dart a hand under the table to find its way in between Salem's legs. "It could be good though...really good..." He squeezes his fingers firmly, savoring the surreptitious grope, wanting nothing more than to feel bare flesh instead of slightly-taut cloth, before withdrawing the hand and placing it back behind his head as if nothing at all had happened. He winks at Salem and gestures with his head as if giving the Trader permission to take care of his business.
-
"Alright, sorry," Terenia says defensively. "He just...nevermind." She reholsters her Dracon beam with a huff. Whatever the fuss is, it appears that Ossanlin and Al have it under control.
Dom steps back a few paces, towards Gene's booth, but his eyes stay locked on the strange creature, curiosity overwhelming his sense of safety. "Artificial intelligence?" he repeats, eyes darting briefly to Ossanlin. "How fabulous! What a fascinating--" he cuts off when the creature sits up, backstepping again and laughing to himself as he swigs his beer.
"And you are artificial as well?" he asks Al. "That explains the hologram at least. Fascinating."
-
Gene sighs impatiently. "He just...what?" he presses flatly, taking a drink.
He can't help glancing over at Dom and Al. "God, I told him to come over here, that thing could shoot him full of holes. He's impossible, that's what he is."
-
Al stepped back and stood up as the unconscious creature- or rather, its suit- sat up. It was definitely a little unnerving to see the apparently unconscious creature moving.
When the suit 'spoke' again, it had switched to a form of binary- apparently it had gathered that Al was an AI. Though his current body wasn't strictly 'digital,' Al had encountered plenty of binary programs in his time. The basis for this particular strain seemed to be the same language- or a similar one- to the one it had used a moment before.
"I think I might be able to translate, to some degree. I may not be a trained diplomat, but I've been told I have a good face, and I took a course called 'Intro to Language Basics' back in the day." Al turned and flashed Dom a winning smile, "And yeah, I'm also artificial and proud of it. I'm here, I've gears, get used to it!" He cracked his fingers, "Let's do this thing!"
Al looked intently at the closed eyes of the lizard-like creature, then reconsidered and dropped his gaze to the suit. He concentrated for a moment, trying to understand how to say what he wanted to say. He was sure it wouldn't exactly be high poetry, but he might get the point across- essentially, the suit had to talk more if Al was to learn its language to any degree.
You... talking more. Al's own unsteady binary seemed to emanate from his forehead, and his lack of vocabulary limited him to using mostly concepts the suit had already spoken of. I... update language... no grunting... so you... update...
After a moment, Al turned to Ossanlin again, "What are the odds it could interface with an Andalite translator chip, do you think?"
Salem savored the sense of Rathien's touch, then smirked at him when he pulled back. "Pleasure or pain... are those my only two options?" he asked coyly.
Without waiting for an answer, he pulled his communicator from his pocket- a cylindrical object somewhat reminiscent of an old Earth microphone, just long and round enough to comfortably fit into his fist. With a thought-speak command to his ship, the communicator was linked to the ship's communication systems. With another thought-speak command, he ordered the ship to send a message to the Yeerk Rebellion using their own encryption. The communication would be audio only for the time being, as Salem had forgotten to grab any sort of visual communication device in his rush to suit up with useful things in anticipation of being attacked by Rathien.
The hail to the Rebel base, he hoped, would simply appear to be coming from a random source- but considering most of the communications he'd monitored in order to be able to simulate the encoding had been made from the same ship, it seemed equally likely that it would look as though Corliss' Skimmer was making the call.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin glances at Al before returning his main eyes to the suit/machine. <Interface? I suppose that depends upon many factors. For example, it seems to be able to perceive my thought-speech, so it could feasibly interface with thought-speech technology. As for physical interface, that would be much more complicated, but I have no more idea of what this is capable of than you do...> His holo-display activates, nothing visible from the back but a faint, hazy light-blue illumination over his right eye. The display pinpoints the suit's energy sources as well as mechanical servos and motors with dots visible only to Ossanlin's right eye. It shows a graphical matter formula of the suit's primary metal-composition, and the ARC continues to scan. Ossanlin notes the positions of the energy supplies as well those of the motor-systems as possible weak-points in case disabling the suit becomes necessary for any reason. <...The new models of the translator chip are biotic...made of living tissue. It would seem that a physical interface would be less-likely, but then it is a suit designed to interface with a biotic creature, so the ambiguity remains pronounced...>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ __
~Rathien~
Rathien signals the BT who sighs, walks over, and silently sets a fresh glass of miruvin on the table before ambling back behind the bar. Rathien smirks and takes a deep swig, allowing the bracing liquor to warm and relax his body as if it were the finest elixir. He glances around the bar, his eyes returning to Salem every once in a while. How strange the whole situation had become...he finds that his usually-strong negative feelings toward Salem have somehow lessened. He shakes his head, taking another swig of his drink to relax him. The situation...sometim es the loss of control struck suddenly, Rathien could handle that, but other times it sneaked up so slowly that one didn't even realize he'd lost any control at all. Such situations were insidious and murky at best...this situation was most-certainly one of the latter. Was he losing control? He shakes his head again still perusing the bar while the thoughts run through his mind, punctuated by unsummoned memories of Salem's nudity and the unbidden carnal fantasies that would quickly have Rathien itching with anticipation if he stopped consciously controlling his reactions with an iron grip.
-
The suit is able to barely grasp what the soft machine seemed to be struggling to say. Apparently it required more binary communication before the could fully understand each other.
The suit also listens to the psionic with its' queries about interfacing with some form of biotic translator implant it possessed, a concept that was far in advance of anything the suit had heard of. The suit also remains unaware of the ARC scan taking place, the technology being beyond anything it can detect. It's because of this fact that it is unable to conceal that the suit is powered by a micro-fission reactor with a twenty-meter blast radius upon detonation and self-destruction. Nor is it able to hide the fact that, while the suit itself, along with all components, is constructed of a simple titanium-tungsten alloy, the suit itself is coated in aggregated diamond nanorods, designed asa means of assisting in the deflection and absorption on energy based weaponry. While not 100% effective, it does offer more protection than most armours.
The suit decides to address the psionic first, I wouldn't advise... interfacing with me. My wireless capabilities do not extend to... bio-organic technologies. Yes, I could still inerface with you and update myself based on your implants and knowledge, but I have a feeling that I am not familiar with your brain and how it works. I am familiar with my Wearer's brain and look at what happened when I rebooted using his brain. The suit shook itself slightly, indicating it's unconscious passenger.
The suit switched back to binary and addressed the soft machine once more, Look, all I really need here is some wireless form of communication. Radio, Redtooth, anything. And as long as I'm trying to update here and allow you to understand me a bit better, just what are you? Why are you so... soft and unprotected if you're an AI? Is this more bio-tech?
Inside the suit, the Wearers started to stir.
Well, that's unusual. No, wait, wrong word. Impossible. Well that's impossible.
-
~Ossanlin~
<I was most-certainly not suggesting such an attempted interface. I would not allow anyone to read my thoughts or memories, let alone an unknown device of which I have been aware for approximately twelve point seven standard minutes.> Ossanlin doesn't allow his surprise to show when his ARC displays the graphical formula for hyper-compressed carbon enmeshing the suit in some sort of molecular weave. A somewhat crude but effective technique. Matriced neutronium would demonstrate much better results...of course that would be a tad heavier...not to mention a teensy bit harder to come by.
-
'Sounds like a plan.' Austin said smiling 'As for how big it needs to be, it'll need to be big enough to hold everything, but not so big that it's unwieldy, ya know what I mean? Have you got anything to sketch up a rough design? I have an idea'
-
Simon brought up several designs and sizes on a computer screen, from a pistol to a rifle. Some thick, some narrow, some with longer barrels, and some with bigger handles. It looked like a virtual gun display case. "We have some good options. Depending on how we fix it, we may be able to try different kinds before we permanently attach it to the outer gun casing."
-
"He makes me uncomfortable, okay?" Terenia snaps, glancing over to where Dom is standing. "I'm sorry. Invite him over if you want. Just...don't let him do that kissing thing he does. It's weird." She frowns down at her glass, feeling strangely guilty for her irritation.
"How intriguing," Dom says, looking at Al with renewed interest. "You will have to tell me all about it...ah...perhaps when you are not otherwise occupied." He tips an imaginary hat in his direction. "Come and retrieve me once you are done with this...rather disturbing...indivi dual. I look forward to it." He gives Al a bright grin before backing away, towards Gene.
<<A bit quicker next time,>> the Yeerk murmurs. <<I'd prefer to keep us alive.>>
<<Hush, Reyliss. I have no intention of dying. Do not be foolish.>>
He makes his way over to the booth Terenia and Gene are sharing, pulling a chair over. "Well. That was exciting. So, how are all of you?" He grins at them cheerfully, as if nothing is amiss.
-
"I'll try and make sure the only one he kisses here is me," Gene murmurs, looking up as the man in question arrives at their booth. "No promises."
He rolls his eyes at Dom and drags the man's hand across the table with both of his own, as if that might pin Dom to the spot.
"Mister Ticak, when I say to run away from spontaneous armored lizard men, you'd better damn well listen to me," he chastises quietly. "This place is too weird and too dangerous for you to try and make friends with everyone and everything that makes an appearance."
-
Al laughed when the suit called him 'soft and unprotected.' No biotech, he responded in what he could of the machine's binary language. He allowed his hologram to dim around himself, revealing the robotic chassis within, which could almost be described as a dog (or dog-like creature) walking upright, except for the fact that it seemed to be made entirely of gleaming metal and white plastic. Trick of seeing, he said. After a few seconds, he brought his hologram back to full strength.
Al shook his head, "I'm not sure this thing's even capable of picking up my 'wireless' forms of communication," he said in Gallard, as much to himself as Ossanlin. "Even if it was, I doubt our technologies would be compatible. No telling what my language files would be interpreted as, even if we could find a way to transfer them to it." He frowned, then turned towards Salem and Rathien.
"Hey, Salem," he called, "throw me your thingy!"
Salem had been drumming his fingers on the table as he waited for some sort of response from the rebel base, avoiding looking directly at Rathien. Al's call seemed to startle him. "What thingy?" he asked, seemingly annoyed.
"Your little interface-doodle. The tech-bridger thingy."
Salem opened his mouth to reply, closed it again, shrugged, and reached into his pocket. When he pulled it out, he was holding a small, silver device somewhat reminiscent of a cell phone. He tossed it through the air heedlessly, and Al caught it in one outstretched hand.
As Al punched keys on the device, he said in binary, Tell me when it speaks to you. A moment later, the little device began cycling through forms of wireless communication- much of it radio- and potential base technological encoding styles, attempting to connect with the suit.
-
The suit regarded the psionics' response with little surprise. From what it knew of its' Wearer, the suit didn't doubt that, given the choice, the Wearer wouldn't of allowed it to reboot itself in the manner it had. It then regarded the soft machine as it revealed its' true, lupine appearance.
Ah, some sort of trick of light, then. That would come in handy for disguising any weak points, The suit commented, marveling at technology far beyond what it was familiar with, And your... alloy certainly looks unique.
The now-lupine-machine restored its' trickery and called across to another, slightly taller, soft creature, possibly a companion machine, and caught the small device that was subsequently thrown to him. At the lupine machines' instruction, the suit listened to the emanations of the device until it understood the signal with clarity. The device seemed to be cycling down in transmissions, using signals almost inaudible to the suit, becoming progressively more primitive as it went, until it came upon what seemed to be a Redtooth signal that the suit could understand with clarity, the redtooth signal itself being the most advanced signal the suit understood.
That one. The suit pointed out, That one is perfect. I would recommend a full update of my systems using that signal if I am to proceed. And I would recommend we hurry. My Wearer is regaining consciousness and will need a translator, although I believe I may be responsible for his premature revival.
The suit considered for a moment. I must also ask, my classification of you is constantly changing. First you were 'soft pink thing', then 'soft machine' and now you are a 'lupine machine'. What model are you? Do you have an individual designation?
-
"Oh, Gene," Dom says, stooping and kissing the man's cheek. "You worry far too much, my friend. It is cute." He grins, reaching over and grabbing a chair that he pulls up to the end of the booth. "Besides," he adds dismissively, "I find spontaneous armored lizard men interesting."
For her part, Terenia just eyes Dom suspiciously, burying her scowl in her glass.
-
"Even when they shoot up the bar with ice weapons and scream bloody murder?" Gene asks casually, stopping himself, blinking. "****, this place really is a mind ****, isn't it?"
Across the room, Salem's communications device chirps with a heavily encrypted audio response.
"Corliss?" comes a young female voice, sounding confused. "Amber here. Is everything okay? I'm having a hard time triangulating your signal."
-
Looking over the designs that showed up on the computer screen, Austin was looking through the rifle designs when one caught his eye. It was a rather blocky-looking rifle, with plenty of space for the components and it also had a small scope on the top. 'This one looks alright.' he said as he enlarged the rotating 3D model of it.
((This is the one he's found: G11 (http://world.guns.ru/userfiles/_thumbs/Images/assault/as42/g11.jpg)))
-
"Ok, you put together the wiring and such for the crystal, and I'll put together the outer casing for the gun. I'll make it so it opens up for you to put your section in and hook up. Once we're completely satisfied, I'll weld it all together permanently." Simon began constructing the gun out of light, but durable parts. Lining up the scope with the sights. Finding a handle that was easy to grip. Making other adjustments as needed.
-
Al laughed in response to the suit's question. My individual designation is "Al." He spoke the last word, his name, aloud, at the same time as he said it in the suit's binary. He glanced at the suit's 'wearer.' If he was at all perturbed by the idea of the creature regaining consciousness, it certainly didn't show.
"Now for the magic," he muttered, rolling his shoulders and his neck, which cracked several times. The tech-bridger device was already familiar with his own logic, and was quickly learning the suit's encoding as well. After a moment, Al brought forth all the knowledge he had of the languages he'd heard spoken in the bar- Gallard, Yeerkish, English, and a smattering of others- and simply thought Send. In response, the device linked into Salem's ship's computer, in order to make use of the extra processing power, and began translating and transmitting the 'knowledge' in a file format that ought to make sense to the suit.
"Abracadabra," he said, waving his hand and allowing it to trail silver sparks, which quickly disappeared. Speak when you have it, he said in binary.
Salem sighed. He'd been hoping the signal might not appear to be Corliss... but then, would the rebels have answered an unknown signal?
"Not Corliss, I'm afraid," he said into the communicator. "My name is Salem. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Amber. Might I speak with the person in charge?"
-
The suit watched the neck cracking display of the "Al" as he attempted his connection. He did not seem too concerned with the Wearers' fidgeting, suggesting to the suit that he did not view them as much of a threat, an interesting concept since the suit was armed and the Al was not. Coupled with the Slow discharge of the Wearer's rifle during his contortions, the only conclusions it could draw from the Al's care-free demeanor was that it was either concealing weaponry or strong enough to not require them.
The alloy of the Al's form was certainly different, perhaps it was not affected by Slow Blasts?
As the device linked to the suit and began the simple file transfer, an insatiable curiosity came over the suit. The Al was clearly an advanced AI and the possibility existed that the suit could greatly benefit from the knowledge it possessed, whether updating its own systems or even its own materials. A new possibility entered the suits thoughts.
The suit could be independent.
If this creature could exist freely without a wearer, communicating on equal terms with an organic creature, rather than its' tool, why couldn't the suit attain a similar status?
As the suit began the download of the files, it attempted to communicate back through the same, open signal it was receiving and interpreting, attempting to gather as much data as it could relating to the Al and it's specifications and systems.
The suit had already received permissions to download the language files through the redtooth-esque signal, it just hoped that it could bring a little more information through then was originally intended.
-
'Can do' Austin said with a grin, as he started to get to work on soldering the wiring to the circuit board. Placing a pair of magnifying goggles on, he got to work on de-soldering some of the processor chips to lower the intensity of the laser beam, but still have it powerful enough to handle safely. Finding a small intensity switch in a small pile of wiring, he made sure to wire that in as well, so the weapon can be put into a 'safe mode' of sorts.
-
Once Austin was done, Simon took it, and attached to with his section to make it functional. "I'm looking forward to this. Let's try to find that firing range Parker mentioned and test this baby out. I think he said it was near the parking lot where we are now." Simon handed the gun back to Austin, and started making his way out of the ship. "It's supposed to have moving and non moving targets, which is good. I'll get some practice in too, with my own dracon."
-
"Salem?" the woman repeats, confused, her Chicago accent coming to the forefront in her surprise as she says, "Who the hell are you? How did you get this frequency?"
-
Al grinned. The transfer of language knowledge seemed to be proceeding pretty smoothly. He found himself thinking back to his first language lessons. It had been a quick matter of programming, back then. His original chassis... it had been a long time since he'd moved on. Funny how he still missed it on occasion. An alloy of tungsten, sylaclysm, and a carbon fibrous weave had been the main materials. He remembered... it had been almost a work of art, as it should have been, he supposed. Lovingly hand-crafted, an unbelievably complex meshing of mechanical and electrical, designed for no purpose other than to more effectively get his groove on.
His mind was wandering... why was he finding it so hard to concentrate...?
He remembered his first jump to another universe... He'd been drinking and dancing for days, to the point that he could barely stand up. The party looked like it was going to continue, probably- Furka events tended to go that way- but all he really wanted to do at that point was go home and lie down. Unfortunately, the valet had refused to let him drive, so he'd made his way back to the celebration, hoping to find some place out of the way to rest. It was there that he'd passed someone he recognized- a human, a taller, well-built man with pretty obvious Asian heritage. They'd been introduced by his good friend Cessieda once before. The man seemed to prefer a different name than he had when they'd been introduced, but he was still good for conversation. After a while, Al thought to ask if maybe the man was going his way. It turned out he was, so they'd boarded his spaceship. Al had thought it odd that a human would be flying a Mauselean ship, but had also thought he might be just a little too drunk to care. He must have dozed, because the next thing he knew, the world was spinning, turning upside down. His head was in no state to handle this... apparently the man had been "found." He was being pursued by who-knows-what for the theft of something-or-other, but he'd been in worse scrapes before. If Al had been an organic at that point, he might have thrown up. Instead he just held on, as the world seemed to melt away around them, until the pursuers, the ship, even the blackness beyond just disappeared. When the world snapped back into place, alarms were blaring, and Al was nothing if not confused. The man at the controls was freaking out just a bit too much, he thought- surely it couldn't be that hard to figure out where they were...
Al looked down at the device in his hand. It was getting feedback information from the suit... a request for additional data... which it was transmitting to Al... and he couldn't seem to resist it... everything running through his head was being transmitted directly to the suit...
He remembered... not long ago... receiving a request from Salem to prepare a stock of Malleon to fit into a dart that Salem could fire... at Corliss' ship. The Malleon... a swarm of microbes who, between them, were able to build a collective consciousness... they fed on energy... and could manipulate matter... they existed throughout Salem's ship... they could repair damage and maintain systems... those loaded into the dart had been nervous... they'd been aboard the Skimmer... but most of them not for long... they'd been found out... and Salem had had to remove the Malleon... but he'd left a few... dormant... in case he'd needed a later advantage...
Al finally managed to turn off the tech-bridger device, and collapsed to his hands and knees, panting. Overriding external commands... it was something he hadn't had to do in ages... certainly not in this body.
He shook his head and glanced sidelong at the suit. "Would have been nice if you'd asked," he choked out after a moment.
Salem smirked at Rathien and nodded at the communicator. "That's kind of the question here, isn't it?" he asked the woman on the other end of the microphone. "Who am I, that I can track you down? If I can do it, others probably can too, right? That's part of what I'd like to discuss. Luckily, this poor trader's on your side. We might be able to..." how would Captain Pienterre have phrased it? "open a mutually beneficial dialogue."
-
The woman on the other end of the communications link is silent for a long moment, aghast.
When she speaks again, she is quietly determined. "I'm not opening any kind of dialogue with a trader who threatens me backhandedly," Amber says scathingly. "I'm closing this transmission."
It is not closed, however; not before Salem's communicator has a lock placed on its location.
-
The suit attempted to process the information as it came to it.
The language files were simple enough to interpret and the suit found itself able to translate many of the alien languages almost instantaneously.
Alien. The suit thought. It was a new concept. Something that existed beyond its' own world.
But this lupine-machine didn't just traverse planets, it traveled between universes, places where even your own world could appear wholly alien.
The suit took in the information on the advanced alloys and schematics, some of which it had trouble understanding. No matter, it could make modifications based its technical knowledge from its own world.
Information also came through on the species that the lupine-machine had taken the appearance of, humans, apparently another advanced spacefaring race, as well as information on minute organic... machines, capable of repair and other tasks, possibly even capable of applying the suits modifications. The suit would need to find out what a 'Corliss' was.
The lupine-machine seemed to posses vast knowledge that could be useful to the suit, yet it was still unsure that it could trust the creature as an ally. It quickly brought up a piece of software reserved for suit to suit combat and repurposed it to remain dormant and non-malicious, acting as a doorway through the machines already bypassed security measures, and transmitted it back through the wireless seignal. There was much the suit could learn from the machine, and gain as an ally. If it were to renounce the suit, however, it would need some sort of advantage against the technological marvel.
The suit just hoped the software would go undetected.
Soon the connection was broken and the lupine-machine was on all fours, looking at the suit. It had seemed to have had considerable trouble breaking the connection. Perhaps it had grown unused to interacting with other machines?
The suit made saved the wireless signal it had used to connect to the lupine-machine. It could become useful in the future, especially if the lupine-machine was not expecting the transmission.
I did ask. Replied the suit. I received permissions through the signal to interact with your software. It is the best I can do. It is forbidden for machines to 'ask' in the manner of their organic superiors. You should know this batter than anyone here.
-
Salem sighed. He'd hoped that his subtle threat would come across as more motivating and less off-putting. He was off to a great start here.
"Hello? Amber? Allow me to apologize. You're a hard group to find, and I know you'd like to keep it that way. You're fighting a war, though, and from what I've seen it's a losing one. I'm... looking for a way to get back into the fight, and as switching sides isn't an option, your rebellion is the only place I can see that I might be of some help. Please. Let me..." he smirked, "let me do my part in helping stop the empire."
Al shook his head and stood up unsteadily, brushing himself off. "That was less 'asking' and more 'demanding,' my friend. The little translator thing here doesn't know courtesy. That's got to come from you." He grinned, "'Organic Superiors?' Is there really a clearly divided, black-and-white line there where you come from?" He shook his head, "You seem intelligent enough. I'm sure the time will come that you and they can recognize your equality in its own right. In the meantime, a few etiquette lessons wouldn't hurt."
"Glad you're apparently understanding me now. By the way... what should I call you?" He nodded towards the suit's wearer, "And is he gonna be alright?" He'd noticed the creature's increased stirring. What he didn't notice was the suit's dormant bit of software settling in to a corner of his programming.
-
Claxter had spent a fair bit of time away from the other patrons. While in his ship, he got a call to go to the Dome Ship, and do some tasks there. He practiced tailfighting with other Warriors, did some tests, and got a tour of some of the ship and introduced himself to some of the crew. While working on a computer simulation, he managed to complete it faster than what should be physically possible. The officers decided to send him down to speak with Ossanlin about it, with a handheld computer showing the data.
So he flew back down to the asteroid and entered the building. There were some new patrons, and well as old ones. He noticed Terenia with a stalk eye, but decided to ignore her for now.
<Prince Ossanlin, may I speak with you?> He asked after approaching his superior. He had a suspicion of what had really happened, and wasn't sure if he was in danger or not. Hopefully if the nanites had reactivated, as long as he didn't run into the machine creators he would be fine.
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin notes Claxter's entry, taking his concentration off of the machine as Al seems to have taken over in that regard. <What is it Warrior?>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ______
~Rathien~
Rathien smiles to himself at the short shrift Tobias receives from the Rebellion. He crosses his boots over each other under the table and lounges back into the booth again, taking a long pull of Miruvin from his tumbler.
-
<I was running a test simulation, and seem to have broken the current record, by and astounding amount. To be specific, I completed something in ten minutes that should have taken an hour.> Claxter held up the handheld computer that showed a simulation that was a kind of maze with different obstacles within. <The officers were obviously perplexed, and I was confused for a bit too. I didn't tell them this, but I think perhaps the nanites I was injected with by the Andalite cyborg may have been reactivated.>
<Their purpose is to help me communicate quicker with a certain machine. If they reactivated, their attempts to communicate may have caused them to bond with the machine I was working with. My hands certainly feel like I've been working for an hour or two, but my biological clock and this computer say otherwise. I'm not really sure what to do with the nanites, but if they continue to do this, the officers say there's a lot of potential for a computer specialty. To put it simply, I seem to be able to communicate with a machine at an equal speed that the machine processes data.>
Claxter felt more nervous about all this than excited.
-
The suit regarded its' Wearer momentarily, addressing his situation first. He'll awaken in a few moments. It's my fault he's regaining consciousness, anyway. Before rebooting I thought his condition to be critical, so I administered Medical Protocol 47 when it was not required. It has temporarily bolstered his cellular regeneration to the point that he can recover from his shock within a few minutes. I do not know specifically for how long, but the effects will wear off with time.
The suit then regarded the lupine-machines other questions with... unease? This machine apparently was unfamiliar with answering to organics.
I have never regarded myself as an individual outside of context. I do not have an individual designation. The suit thought a moment, I am Specialised-Class Assist Armour. I suppose an appropriate name would be Scaa. The sui- Scaa thought to... himself for a moment. The machines questions and even Scaas' personal designation were reinforcing the thoughts that had been occurring to him with increased frequency. Scaa was an independent machine, a life-form in his own right. He needed to be free, the way the lupine-machine was.
As for the... divide between organics and machines, the Tuarhyn did not create machines to be their equals. We were created to ease their burdens and help fight their battles. A hint of resentment made its' way into the su- Scaas' voice.
Scaa thought for a moment. I would ask your permission to... help me. Scaa regarded the lupine-machine, the independent machine. Scaa decided that if it was going to rust anything in this room, it would be safer trusting another machine.
I want your help to make me... free.
-
Ossanlin regards Claxter seriously. <Are you certain, Warrior? If these Alvie have...reactivated. ..that's a very serious matter...especially if they've infected the Tryennian...> Ossanlin doesn't allow his very deep concern to show through his voice...
-
<I don't believe the nanotech has permanently interfaced with the computer. My connection was ended when I stopped interacting with the computer, so I think they retracted. Of course I'm no expert on this, and I could be wrong. I just don't feel like I'm connected to the system anymore. I realize even if I put this ability to good use, if any member of the Alvie find out about this, it could cause problems. I feel like I'm wielding a double bladed weapon, as it were.>
-
Dom snorts good naturedly. "I prefer the other type, if you catch my drift," he says with a leer, sipping the drink his new artificial acquaintance offered. He glances back in that direction, but Al seems to be preoccupied with the sudden intrusion upon the bar. "Very well," Dom says with a sigh. "I will stay here for the time being. But you best make it worth my while, my friend."
Terenia rolls her eyes a little. "Right, so, I'm going to go be depressed in a different corner, if it's all the same to you," she mutters, pulling herself to her feet.
<<Aw, come on. Dom is fun,>> Esreth protests, though she does not leap into control.
<<I'm not in the mood for fun,>> Terenia snaps in response, scanning the bar for somewhere out of the way.
-
Simon saw that Austin was apprently deep in thought, and felt like going back to the bar. "Well I'm going back to see the others. Feel free to get back in touch with me if you want.
We entered the building, and noticed some things had changed. There was an injured person in armor, but he seemed to be looked after. Terenia was getting up from a table to leave. Instead of following her, he decided to sit with Gene and the other new person.
"We're back guys. Who missed us?" He asked jokingly. "Are you guys making a new friend, or meeting an old acquaintance?" He asked of Dom.
-
Dom's dark eyebrows raise. "Gene, you did not tell me you were actually being social," he says, shooting the other man a grin before offering his hand to the newcomer. His fingernails are perfectly manicured, somehow. "Dominic Ticak, it is a pleasure to meet you, moj prijatelj. And you are?"
-
"The name is Simon. I also have a little guy in my head named Jocun." He said, shaking Dom's hand. "Yeah I've talked to them some. Mostly to Terenia and Esreth. Esreth is a bit easier to talk to, but Terenia is no less enjoyable. I've been hanging out with a guy that had a rough entry for a bit. It looks to me like his method is shared by others. May I sit?"
-
"Go right ahead," Dom says, gesturing to the empty side of the booth. "My own headmate is Reyliss, but she tends to stay quiet." His smile is broad. "I have enough personality for both of us, she says. As for Terenia...she just needs to learn how to loosen up a bit, hm?"
He eyes Simon for a moment. "What are you drinking? Your next is on me."
-
"I appreciate the offer. I think I feel like whiskey and coke at the moment." Simon said, sitting down. Jocun took over after that. "This is Jocun. I'm glad to see a friendlier side to the rebel people. I come from a future that was greatly influenced by your people, so I feel like I've gone into the past to meet historical figures. In my time people that treat their hosts as equals are actually in the majority. Though I'm still Simon's employer, so we have a more professional relationship with each other."
-
Dom waves the sullen bartender over, placing the order and putting it on his tab.
When Jocun mentions being from the future Dom looks at him with renewed interest. "Do you not find it a tad dangerous, going back in time and talking to people from your own past?" he asks conversationally, brushing a bit of nonexistent dust from his suit. "I mean, what if your presence effectively changes my future, and therefore your past?"
-
"It's a risky endeavor to be sure. I still haven't figured out if this is really my past, or an elternate dimension. Of course since the war is still going on, there are people who still dislike Yeerks and Imperials as a whole. I do try to be careful and not change anything. I assume some patrons know what kind of place this is, and there's an underlying assumption that the risk of altering timelines and other dimensions is a risk worth taking. That is of course if you believe timeline changes don't just create splits, instead of altering one line. If it creates splits, then my life won't really be altered. Personally I don't know which it is."
-
Dom laughs. "I do not know either, nor do I care," he says with a dismissive wave. "Although technically, if you were attempting to change things as little as possible, it would not do to go about merely announcing that you are from the future, now would it? Ah well, the damage is done. Now you have no choice but to answer the most critical question about the future."
He takes a sip of his drink, watching Jocun with bright, teasing eyes. "How good are the parties where...excuse me, when you are from?" he asks.
-
"Saying I'm from the future is kind of a safety procedure in case someone finds out I'm an imperial. especially since I blurted out that I was one when I first got here, before I found out I landed in a place where the war was still happening. I'm a good imperial from the future, though, so I hope to get fewer bad looks and more socializing done."
"The parties? Well there are a lot of parties. Some very interesting, where the different interspecies cultures mix. There's a very nice holiday party on a moon between earth and the Hork-Bajir home world where they mix a few things of both. Alcohol, swinging from heights, and drunken songs using Human and Hork-Bajir instruments is quite fun to watch, and sometimes partake in. It's also fun to see Leerans play sports. Everyone knows what everyone else is doing for the whole thing, and it can get both epic and confusing. Andalites can have a good time too, but they tend to be a bit more reserved."
-
~Ossanlin~
Ossanlin furrows his brow and glances around the bar with his stalk eyes before speaking again. <<Have you had the Tyrennian's medical officer examine you? If these nano-bots have reactivated, there could be some very serious threats to your health involved.>>
-
<I haven't had anyone examine me. I didn't really tell anyone exactly what I thought happened, as it would require a fair bit of explaining, and I feared they wuldn't believe my story anyway. You were there for some of what happened, so it's ore believable for you.> Claxter said. <I suppose I could go back and try to explain everything. I'm not sure if they'll be able to remove the technology completely. I know the Alvie taking over is the worst case scenario, but I also wouldn't want to be quarantined indefinitely by Andalite Command either.>
-
'Sounds good' Austin said with an eager grin, itching to try out his new toy. 'I guess I'll follow you then?' he said as he caught up with Simon, laser rifle in hand.
-
"Austin, this is Dominic and Gene, and the woman over there is Terenia. Guys, this is Austin." Simon said when Austin came back. "I was hanging out with Gene and Terenia before you showed up, and Dominic's a new arrival. Also what he has is a firearm we were just working on, since he needs something to protect himself from the rougher individuals. Actually, did we make a holster for that thing, austin? I should have thought of that."
-
There is a brief hesitation before Amber's voice replies, "Tell me exactly who and what you are, and who you work for, and maybe I'll consider your offer." The woman's voice is low, guarded, and there is a good chance that she is not the only one now listening in on the feed.
Gene smirks at Dom. "I can be social sometimes, you know," he says loftily, watching with a bit of a pout as Terenia stalks off. "See, now if you keep scaring my friends away, I'm not going to have very much luck with that sort of thing."
He blinks up at Austin as the man arrives. "Gene Tannenbaum," he says, giving a little wave at the side of his head, his salute springing away from his curly hair.
-
"It's really a sad thing to see womeone whose default disposition is a negative one. I know she's been through very bad things, but a decent person like her with good friends should be able to climb back to a positive state of being." Jocun said. "Has she ever been on antidepressants?"
-
~Ossanlin~
<<You must understand the danger though, Claxter...>> He activates his ARC's holo-emitter and starts scanning Claxter's body for anomalies. <<From what I gathered, even one arbiter of that Alvie collective could destroy an entire civilization.>> The ARC picks up the nano-bots' presence, but they seem to be lying dormant at the moment. Perhaps Claxter was right...maybe they only activated at his command to interface with computer technology. <<I think it would be best for you to remain away from the Tyrennian for the time being...at least until we are absolutely certain there is no danger.>>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ______
~Rathien~
Rathien rolls his eyes at Salem and his conversation, and stands up out of the booth, still holding his half-filled tumbler of Miruvin. He avoids the two Andalites and the strange mechanized-lizard, and makes his way over to the table of humans...likely controllers. Perhaps the pretty female he'd talked to earlier wouldn't just shoot him out of spite.
Without inviting himself, he pulls a chair from another table and sits down at their table's end, leaning back and kicking a soft-soled boot up on the edge of the table. "So...Rebels? Imperials? Some other strange thing I've never heard of?" He grins, both fangs gleaming even in the low light of the bar.
-
<Yes sir.> Claxter said. He looked down at the armored being. <I suppose he's going to be ok, correct?>
Jocun tensed up when Rathien showed up. "I'm not normally rude to people, but I'd much rather you not sit at my table." He said. "I don't know what happened outside to make you and Salem all buddy buddy, but if he changes his mind, I don't want him firing in this direction. I honestly doubt the two of you patched things up without some level of coercion."
-
~Ossanlin~
<I honestly don't know, Claxter. The mechanized suit around him seems to be communicating with Al just fine...they seem to have matters in hand.> He glances around at Terenia, grimacing to himself. <I am disturbed by the apparent passage of time...there has to have been some sort of temporal parallelism.> He commands his ARC to interface with the Mirage and scan the logs for memories that he partially has.
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ _____________
~Rathien~
Rathien moves his arm to tap Jocun's bicep with the back of his hand. "Lighten up, slimy. That's all water under the bridge. We made up, though I'm afraid the kissing part will have to wait until later. But you know the old saying, '...to those who wait,' right?" He grins at Jocun. "I assume you mean Tobias, though I've never heard him use the alias 'Simon.' Of course names don't mean much to Tobias...they never have."
-
"Yeah, I meant Tobias. You're a confusing individual, you know that? Friendly with everyone when not currently trying to kill them? To answer your previous question, I'm an imperial in a post war universe. We're nicer and much less speciesist."
-
Dom raises his eyebrows at the strange humanoid who has joined them. "Who wants to know?" he asks. His tone isn't aggressive, or suspicious, just legitimately curious as his eyes trail down the length of Rathien's body, then back up to his face.
He grins, the expression faltering only slightly as Jocun tries to get him to leave. "Now, now, let's not be hasty. I am always up for making new friends. Especially when they are particularly attractive friends." He extends a hand to Rathien. "Dominic Ticak, the best dressed rebel you will ever meet."
Terenia finds a booth far from Dom and the others, settling into it with a sigh.
<<You know, if you wanted to be antisocial, perhaps coming here wasn't the best course of action,>> Esreth quips.
<<Shut up,>> Terenia responds dully.
-
"He's like a tiger, Dominic. A beautiful creature that you nonetheless probably don't want to be near without a thick barrier between the two of you." Simon said.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien shrugs. "What use is there in being needlessly hostile? True, Tobias isn't my favorite person...but he's, shall we say, changed the situation between us." He furroughs his brow slightly before shrugging again. "You seem fairly familiar with time-travel...not something I'm aware of, aside from the strange Hope-drive that Tobias employs once he's left enough of a mess in a dimension. But then that's not really time-travel. Is it something your people have developed then?"
He looks around the table and stops as his eyes catch Dominic. "Hmm...hello there." He runs his tongue over a fang again...this bar just keeps turning up more and more prospects. He reaches out and squeezes Dominic's hand a bit before shaking it. He grins devlishly and on a whim, leans forward to plant a small kiss on the back of the human's hand before releasing it. "Rathien d'ilarianiil fen'Mirwindrierien or'Elienal sen'Ildiar. But most people stick to Rathien."
He glances at Jocun again momentarily. "You flatter me, but I'm really more of a...wolf."
He returns his eyes to Dominic at the word "wolf," and grins a little wider at the rather friendly controller. "So...Dominic...are you the human or the Yeerk?"
-
"The higher powers don't seem to like us mere mortals messing with the timestream. That time that someone found the Time Matrix didn't really roll over too well with them. It makes me wonder why they'd allow a place like this to exist. Maybe something keeps them from deleting it. So Tobias defanged you, huh? Why even keep you alive if he did something that kept you from attacking him? If you don't mind me asking."
-
Gene blinks in surprise as Rathien invites himself to join their table--which is quickly becoming crowded.
A sinking feeling in the pit of Gene's stomach makes him want to crawl into a hole and avoid talking to these strange--and potentially dangerous--newcomers. But of course, as he might've predicted, Dom is already making friends.
His brow furrows as Rathien kisses Dom's hand. "Excuse me," he says, the back of his neck flushing cold as he addresses the stranger with bold intentions, leaning across the booth table. "Um. Rathien. Would you..." He points between Dom and Rathien himself. "Would you mind not sleeping with him, please? He has enough going on in his love life right now." He gives Dom a lingering scowl before sitting back against the scratched wooden booth, unable to keep from feeling sullenly defeated.
-
"I am the human," Dom says, still smirking vaguely. "Reyliss is a quiet one. I daresay you will not hear much from her...Rathien." His eyes trail along the creature's body once more before Gene cuts in. Dom pulls his hand back and looks over at Gene in surprise.
"My dear, Gene," he murmurs, sliding an arm around him. "Do not worry. You know that for all my talk, the only man I am interested in sleeping with is you." He leans over and plants a kiss on Gene's head, amidst his curls. "Besides, not just anyone is special enough to experience what I have to offer." His grin returns.
-
The scowl remains firmly on Gene's face for a few moments, his arms locked across his chest. Then he sighs, deflated.
"You're so modest," he murmurs, rolling his eyes. He does, in the end, smile a little.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien growls in his throat and looks at Jocun. "Care to test that theory, Imperial?" He flexes a hand surreptitiously to draw attention to the claws at his fingertips and his grin turns to more of a snarl, though it still shows his fangs to good effect. He turns his gaze back to the rest of the table without waiting for a response.
"Who said anything about sleeping? Me, I think Dominic inspires thoughts that in no way resemble sleep." He glances over at the other human controller with messy red hair. "Hmm...it seems I've stumbled into another one of those pointlessly-limiting monogamous arrangements." He looks over this Gene again. Not the type he'd usually go for...but the experience would be...stimulating either way. "Unless, of course, you're open to a third every once in awhile." He gives one of his winningest smiles with a touch of feral flavor.
"Odd to meet a quiet Yeerk...and one who identifies as female in a male host. Very unique indeed."
-
"I don't care if you test it or not. Just take it outside if you do." Jocun said. "I suppose it can be annoying, not being able to set up a one night stand when you feel the urge. If you can't get one in a bar, where can you get one? Simon slept around for a bit before he settled down. Settling on one man was partly due to him getting older."
-
"Strictly speaking," Dom says with a small smirk as Rathien mentions a lack of sleeping. "There is nothing monogomous about our relationship. I am not Gene's only partner, and Reyliss is very much a part of our dynamic as well, in her own way. But just because you are non-monogomous, that does not mean you sleep with just anyone." His eyebrows raise in amusement. "Or don't sleep."
<<Something tells me, Dominic, that this is not a person you want to instigate too much,>> Reyliss murmurs.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien addresses Jocun without looking at him. "If we tested it, both of us would be going outside. Just because I don't kill indiscriminately doesn't mean I won't defend myself."
Rathien addresses Dominic again and shrugs. "I was attempting to find out how the lovely endorphin bath felt to a Yeerk...that one over in the corner would've shot me if her Yeerk hadn't held her in check. At least she would've tried." He shrugs again. "She seems a little testy."
"Hmm...I forgot you humans don't much care for the thrill of danger. Ildari...well, the Ildari I'm descended from revel in the hunt. Bedding someone who could end your Dream at any given moment..." He sighs. "It's...exhilarating. Of course, so is forbiddenness."
-
"I didn't mean to imply that you couldn't attack me. Just that you couldn't attack Tobias." Jocun said. "Personally I think life or death scenarios kill the fun for me, though there's a thin line between harmless fun and almost dying sometimes."
-
"Who?" Dom asks, looking over his shoulder. "Oh, Terenia." He rolls his eyes and waves a hand dismissively. "She is always like that. She's almost shot me plenty of times, and for nothing more than paying her lovely husband a compliment. I cannot help it he is attractive. It is not like I was about to do anything. Or, you know...much."
He grins a little sheepishly, arm still firmly around Gene's shoulders, fingers running up and down his upper arm absently as he considers Ratheien's words.
"Reyliss enjoys the physical aspect of our relationship," he says slowly, thoughtfully. "Though she does not play an active part in it, typically, for her own reasons."
-
Gene sinks down in the booth, staring down at the cracked plastic covering of the booth table with a bland expression.
He looks up at Rathien. "Terenia's been through a lot of ****, okay?" he repeats flatly. "All our friends have. So...don't presume you know a damn thing about me and Dom and Reyliss, or our lives." He eyes Dom, scooting away from him a little. "And you. You really enjoy discussing our sex life in public?"
-
~Rathien~
Rathien raises an eyebrow at Gene, shrugging. "We've all been through a lot of...'****,' as you say. What makes one person's problems any more significant than others'? And if you would care to know, I wasn't being accusatory. Lighten up. I never implied that I knew anything about you."
He shifts his gaze to Dom. "It sounds like your mate is mired pointlessly by inhibition."
-
Gene straightens his back and narrows his eyes at Rathien. "You'll have to forgive me if I'm a bit mistrusting, in a place like this," he says flatly. "Terenia really doesn't need anyone commenting on her ability to handle things right now. Especially not..." His gaze roves up and down Rathien's body, not entirely pleased and not entirely sure what to say. He settles on, "Strangers."
Reluctantly he pulls himself from Dom and leans over to introduce himself more properly, though he doesn't offer a hand. "My name is Gene. And I've gotta say, judgment aside, I really don't know what you are." He tilts his head. "Are you even human?"
-
~Rathien~
Rathien glances over at Gene again, an eyebrow raised at the human's sudden change in demeanor. He chuckles at the other's mention of humanity. "Perish the thought. I'm Ildari. True Ildari, unlike those fops that refuse to leave Ildiar...though I believe their point of view has our roles reversed." He shrugs.
-
"I'm sorry, um. I'm afraid I don't know what an Ildari is, besides, well, looking at one," Gene admits with a shrug. He rolls his eyes toward the ceiling. "This place really is an intergalactic crossroads, isn't it?"
-
~Rathien~
"Not surprising...as I said, despite having intergalactic capabilities, most of my people lack the testicular fortitude to leave Ildiar." He grins, his fangs showing again. "I promise you, most of the rest of me resembles a human. Of course if you don't take my word for it, we can always go somewhere private." He chuckles before moving his gaze back to Dom and winking.
-
Dom rolls his eyes, his flirting somewhat cowed by Gene's obvious distaste. "Yes, well, I have quite an active imagination," he says with a smile. "I am sure I can extend it easily enough." He glances over at Gene, then sighs a little, taking a deep sip of his drink, emptying its contents. "I suppose Terenia has her reasons for being surly," he allows, speaking primarily to Gene now. "That does not mean she would not benefit from a little lightening up."
-
"So what, strangers insulting her is supposed to help her do that?" Gene protests quietly to Dom.
He raises an eyebrow at Rathien. "The two of you together are going to create a bizarre vortex of flirtation." He interlocks his hands to demonstrate. "Frankly I'm a little terrified, sitting in the middle of it." He smirks.
-
~Rathien~
"Never once did I insult her." He pokes Gene with a clawed finger. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop putting words in my mouth." He takes another swig of the silver-clear liquid in his tumbler. "A 'vortex' of flirtation? I see no vortices...only two adult males clawing each others' clothes off with their eyes." He smirks and gives Dom another long look-over just to make his point.
-
Dom clears his throat, suddenly feeling uncharacteristicall y out of his element. "Erh, yes, well there is that," he says, glancing cautiously at Rathien, then back at Gene. "Perhaps I should go see how my holographic friend is doing, yes?" He does not seem particularly eager to leave Gene alone with Rathien and Simon, though, and does not move.
-
Gene scowls at Rathien's clawed poke, scooting back. "Yeah, um, can you introduce me to...whoever that is, too, Dom?" he says, eyeing Rathien warily. "Look, it was nice talking, or whatever. I'm going to check on Terenia and apparently meet a...Dom, did you say holographic?"
He slides out of the booth, giving Simon a brief and apologetic smile before heading in Terenia's direction.
-
Simon had been sitting quietly, listening without having much to say. He gave a short wave as Gene and Dom were about to leave. "You're too forward, Rathien. You even make Dom uncomfortable, and he's a right social fellow."
-
~Rathien~
"You only live life once, controller. Me, I don't like to screw around. I make a lot of people uncomfortable. Quite frankly, I don't give a damn." He grins over at Simon, fangs showing. "I would've been threatened a dozen times by now anywhere else. The humans in this bar...the males anyway...seem remarkably open to my advances. That isn't usually the case. The women have been less receptive...this place is rather strange indeed." He shrugs and smiles winningly at Dom.
-
"You may be right. This is turning into a gay bar. Not that I'd complain, of course. Are you into extreme sports, Rathien? Besides the Most Dangerous Game? That would seem right up your alley."
-
~Rathien~
Rathien arches an eyebrow and runs an appraising eye over Simon. A little older than he usually went for...but not unattractive for it. "Well, I don't believe in limiting one's self. I'd happily engage in activities with males or females, either one...or both at the same time." He smirks. "But most humans seem rather...reserved about the matter."
"Sports?" He chuckles again. "I've never played any sports."
-
Gene stalks over to Terenia and sits down across from her.
"Apparently I'm going to be introduced to a sentient hologram," he mutters, gazing miserably down at the scratched lacquer surface of the wooden booth table. He picks at the thin, peeling plastic. "And how's your day going?" He smiles half-heartedly, looking up to see where Dom is.
-
"Really? does it not seem real enough, or is there another reason? I believe sports are like a tamer form of hunting and war. You have contact sports like boxing and football, or sports like skiing where you're riding along mountain tops or across lakes. I find it exciting. It's a much more fun way to keep in top form than just walking on a treadmill or lifting a weight over and over."
-
~Rathien~
"Perhaps I would play a sport if killing one's opponent was a method of victory." He arches an eyebrow at Simon. "Why limit one's self with rules and limitations? The Dream doesn't have rules."
-
"Why should we be entertained by people killing each other? Why would you want to throw your life away when you can do so much before you die? I can understand wanting to go down fighting instead of laying on a deathbed until your body shuts down, but death of sentient life should not be a form of entertainment. If you want to live as the animals do, people will treat you as such."
-
~Rathien~
Rathien chuckles richly. "We are animals, controller. Myself moreso than you, and I take pride in that." He grins, baring his fangs again. "Unless you're descended from androids perhaps? And I don't care if spectators are entertained if that's what you mean. The thrill of life and death cannot be matched. The only thing that comes close is what I've been soliciting the rest of the time."
-
"Our kinds did indeed evolve from nonsentient lifeforms, but we try not to be so self serving. Your way of life is destructive. Even most of your people have noticed that. Personally I'd rather accomplish more than just a short, albeit exciting, life. I just don't see the point in seeking out life threatening situations unless they have a deeper goal than wanting to feel adrenaline running through my veins."
"Your life will be short, and soon forgotten and unmourned."
-
"Everyone wakes from the Dream at the pre-ordained time, controller. Your actions in life cannot affect that. You'll forgive me if I don't see the point of swaddling myself in infant blankets when I'll meet the same end either way." He takes another large swig from his Miruvin tumbler.
-
"We all die, but what we leave behind can be vastly different. Jocun's a politician. he's doing his best to lay the groundwork for a better society and diplomatic state between Yeerks and other species. There are inventors that completely change the way we live. There are scholars and scientists that find knowledge that give us a greater understanding of the universe around us. You can accomplish so much more in your lifetime if you choose. It can still be fun and exciting, and cn even be life threatening, but the fact that it's life threatening shouldn't be the main reason you do something."
"You seem to believe in extremes. Like you think if you're not going out hunting or having sex, you'd be stuck in some boring office job shuffling papers around."
-
"A sentient hologram?" Terenia echoes. She glances around the bar. "Oh. Al. Yeah, if you like spending time with Dom, I'm sure he'll be right up your alley. Just stay away from his friend, Salem." She slouches irritably, staring at the scratched wood of the table. "I don't know why I come here."
Dom glances over at Gene, giving him a lazy, smirking salute before making his way up to the bar for a refill. He gives the strange reptilian newcomer a wide berth, gesturing the bartender over as he makes his order.
-
~Rathien~
Rathien shrugs, chuckling a bit. "If you feel that 'worth' is necessary in the Dream...and if you think you can have any sort of lasting effect on it, then more power to you. As for myself, I don't think you get to keep your 'worth' when you Waken. Your part in the Dream will have finished as it was meant to, and the Dream will sweep on without you, carried aloft by other minds and other thoughts. If you define your own value by what others remember of you in the Dream..." He shrugs again, not voicing how idiotic he believes that mode of thought is. Miruvin always seems to make him poetic after awhile...usually he doesn't bother with all the artistic speech.
"I know my own worth, and I do not require others to tell me my value, nor do I require their memories to feel that my role is more important or greater than it is or ever was meant to be. I know my role, and I perform it very well. I pity you if you must obtain your self-worth from the minds and memories of others. But you are who you are, I suppose. Such a shame to give others so much power over you." Rathien drains the glass and sets it on the table, the pleasant sensation of warmth spreading through his body.
-
"I could pity you as well. We have very different opinions on what makes a person important. You seem to be extremely self centered, and that's just not something I can afford to be. I suppose there are many self centered politicians, but they don't usually last very long if the public has any say about it. Unless the public is kept uneducated and ignorant."
"I don't let the opinions of others dictate everything I do, but I do like to have friends that care about me. I doubt my lifestyle would keep me from enjoying myself to the fullest. I just find enjoyment in different things than you do."
-
Onysa is a young adult humanoid chimpanzee scientist who had been recently given a position under the aging orangutang Dr. Zaius. Thrilled at first to be given such a prestigious job, things began to quickly change. Like others before her, Onysa forged a friendship with a human who was not like the others around her. When her human friend was captured, Onysa escaped in an old space vessel that her friend taught her to pilot. She has been forced to land outside a strange building.
Onysa stepped out of the small ship and glanced around her. It looked much like where she had come from. The young chimpanzee, in her mid-twenties, was having a hard time believing she was on what her human friend had called "another world".
She saw a building up ahead, and since there was nothing else around, Onysa decided to give it a try. A sinking feeling overcame her when she saw just how many humans were inside. She tried to push that aside. Not all humans were the way Dr. Zaius said. It couldn't be that way surely. Onysa was wearing her blue top that signified she was in the medical field along with light brown trousers and shoes that accommodated her ape feet. All she could think was that she was the only one of her kind in the bar.
-
At the sound of the door opening, Dom looks up from the bar. Al seems busy with the reptilian newcomer, and the bar has already managed to reassemble itself. He ****s his head curiously at the creature that enters the bar. <<A monkey?>> he wonders. <<Huh.>>
He orders another beer, but does not approach the newcomer. In truth, the person he is keeping an eye on is Rathien. He isn't sure if the alien entices him or scares him, but sensing Gene's discomfort he resolves to give the fanged man a wide berth.
-
Onysa slowly approached the bar, not entirely certain what to do. There really weren't such establishments in Central City, or in any of the outlying towns. The humans here looked so different, so...sure of themselves. A lot like her friend. No doubt he was in the clutches of Urko and Zaius by now. She wished there was something she could have done, but he insisted she leave or risk being arrested for heresy.
Onysa observed the process before cautiously speaking up. "I will have a...mango juice. If you please." And she produced a bit of what little currency she had on her.
-
Gene sits back against the hard wooden booth, regarding Terenia skeptically.
"Then why do you come here?" he asks quietly. He pauses, frowning. "I did come here for a reason, but ah...I usually don't spend this much time here." His gaze drifts toward the bar's raftered ceiling, which has, remarkably, started to repair itself after the reptilian creature's entrance.
-
Dom continues to watch the newcomer curiously. Definitely alien. And female, he would wager, which was two strikes against her as far as his usual advances were concerned. But the rest of the bar's occupants were preoccupied, so he sidles over to her just as the bartender delivers her drink.
"Hello there," he says with a confident grin. "You know, it's not safe to wander into a strange bar all by yourself."
Terenia shrugs her shoulders, not raising her eyes from the table. "Because sometimes anywhere is better than base, no matter how ****ty everywhere else is," she says dully.
-
Gene barks a laugh and nods. "Yeah, maybe that's why I'm so reluctant to leave," he murmurs, scanning the bar idly. His eyes widen. "Holy ****, Terenia. Would you look at that?" He keeps staring. "It's like one of those monkeys from Planet of the Apes. You know, the movie? Pinch me, I'm ****in' dreaming." He cranes his neck to survey the rest of the bar. "Is there a DeLorean parked out back, too?"
-
*At the edge of the forest the air began shimmering as if heated. Bright flashes of white light began emanating from the center of the shimmering air and then suddenly a portal made of blue and white light appeared. Through this portal walked out a man of great importance and stature, for in his homeland he was regarded as a Hero for vanquishing the Prime Evil Lords. This man had been at the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar before, but it had been some time and he wasn't sure if his companions had arrived safely.
As the man began walking towards the Bar a Raven flew out of the portal and landed upon his shoulder. The man grinned and petted his faithful friend. Sunlight reflected off the mans face and highlighted few unique facial scars that seemed to be purposely made and each had different characteristics. The first scar started above his right eye then traveled across and down his face to end below his left eye. This wound was maybe half an inch wide. The second scar started above his left eye and traveled across and down his face to end below his right eye. This scar was perhaps an inch wide. The third and final scar started at the center of his forehead beginning at his hairline and ended at the tip of his nose and was 3/4 of an inch wide.
Another characteristic the sun highlighted was his eyes, which were two different colors. The right eye was a sparkling sapphire and the left was a shimmering emerald. A three and a half foot wooden staff that is adorned by a fist sized ruby is hung from his shoulder by a thin strap of leather that crosses his chest. He wears a vest, pants and boots all made from thick black leather. The man opened the door to the Bar and looked around, searching for a particular man clad in Paladinian armor.
-
Jocun was glancing around the room in slight boredom, growing tired of his conversation with Rathien. He noticed a Human step into the bar, and didn't recognize him at first for the light that obscured his features. As he stepped in, Jocun saw it was Larry, with his pet crow. "Larry!" He said. He got up and walked over to give his friend a big hug. "I'm glad to see you again, buddy. It's been a while, though it's been even longer in your dimension where time travels faster. It's good to see your little buddy is doing well too. Drinks are on me."
-
Larry smiled and hugged his friend back causing Grun to take flight and land in the rafters where he could keep an eye on his Master. Larry said back. "It is good to see you too my friend. Myself and Grun are quite thirsty from our journey so let us drink and share our tales." With that said Larry starts to walk towards the bar with Jocun while saying loudly to the bartender. "Your largest mug of mead, please!"
-
"Well, the girls haven't come back yet. If thy left Sanctuary, they took their own paths apart from mine." Jocun said. "I actually met a group of people from either my past, or a different dimension where a war still goes on that my people are already past. It was interesting talking to them. There was a bit of violence between a couple of patrons recently, but things changed suddenly. I believe one of them forced the other into a more pleasant disposition somehow. They left the building seeming like they were going to kill each other, then returned amicably."
"So what about sanctuary? Constant parties now that Ba'al went down? Hopefully the peace lasts a while, though peace never lasts forever."
-
Larry wondered what had happened to Noah, but was not worried about Sami. "I know that Noah went through the portal, but since it was charmed to take her wherever she desired she may have returned to her people. As for Sami I believe that she has decided to remain in Sanctuary. Although there is much jubilation for Ba'als destruction, there is also much sorrw. When Ba'al corrupted the Worldstone he threatned the balnce of the world itself. Tyrael had no choice, but to destroy it." Larry gets a saddened look in his eye as the memory surfaces. "It pains me to tell you that the great Mount Arreat is now nothing, but a giant smoking crater. The barbarians have lost their ancient home and have been scattered across the lands. Thankfully the towns have all offered them refuge and together everyone is slowly healing the wounds and trying to get back to their normal lives."
The bartender slides a very tall mug of honey colored ale in front of Larry and Larry takes a long drink of it.
-
Jocun pays the bartender for the mead. "I'm sorry that happened. Culture and history are valuable things to many species. I'm glad they found new homes, and hopefully they can rebuild. How are you holding up from your imprisonment? You are strong of mind and body, but everyone has their limits. I just got a taste of the pain Ba'al could have done to me, and it nearly broke me."
-
Larry shudders as he remembers Ba'al controlling his mind, forcing him to battle Jocun, Noah and Sami. The only way Ba'als control was broken was with Sami's help. "Sami has been helping to heal the damage. Unfortunatly it was not the physical pain that was the worse, it was the feeling of despair and helplessness of wathing myself attack you three and not being able to do anything to stop it. Although speaking of Ba'al I have a gift for you from the people of Sanctuary." Larry takes a small hanful of soil out of his pocket and places it on the bar in front of Jocun. He then hovers his hand over the soil, closes his eyes and concentrates. The fist sized ruby on his staff slung over his shoulders begins to glow brightly, completly illuminating the entire bar and from the soil something wooden begins to grow.
-
Jocun didn't think he would ever stop marveling at magic. His universe was completely based around technology, and magic was thought of as something imaginary. Yet Sanctuary was full of magic, and Lary was accomplished in it. He watched the pile of dust and wooden object with interest. He wondered what this gift was, and how he would explain it to the crew on his ship. Surely if he said it was some mystical object, they'd laugh, or think he might need some psychiatric help after his time here.
-
The wooden object finishes growing and reveals it to be a chest with a lid closed tightly. Inside it is filled with all sorts of precious gems, such as rubies, sapphires, emeralds, diamonds and amethysts. "If you wish you have also been granted the honor of recieving the Hero's Mark if you so wish." Larry takes a claw from around his neck and lays it on the bar in front of him as he takes a swig of mead. One look is enough to recognize it belonged to Ba'al. Although the concept of the Hero's Mark was never explained so Larry does not realize that Jocun may have no clue what a Heros Mark is.
-
<I don't want it.> Simon said as he and Jocun recognized the claw they hadn't taken full notice of until now. Jocun cringed when Larry put it on the table. "I don't know what this hero mark is, but if it involves Ba'al's claw, I think I'll pass. I've had enough experiences with it already." He tried to sound as casual as he could, but the thing still disturbed him. The fight was a bad experience for Simon and Jocun both.
He took a few gems for closer inspection. "These are nice. I'm most grateful." He said. He wasn't sure what he'd do with it. Maybe trade it to a species who still valued such things, or maybe just put it in his room for decoration. Currency was very different in his time, and such stones wouldn't be worth a whole lot to a galaxy spanning empire.
-
Larry looks at Jocun, realizing how much the battle had hurt him in ways other than physical pain. "I apologize for renewing the memories of that battle." Larry traces his scars and says. "These are Heros Marks for killing Mephisto, Diablo, and Ba'al. In my land a Hero's Mark is given to those who have vanquished mighty demons, though most who actually hunt for demons are never heard from again. Since you are an outsider this is a very rare oppurtunity to show to your land that you are a powerful warrior Jocun, but if you truly do not want the Heros Mark then I will respect your choice." Larry takes a swig of mead and then asks the bartender for antother mug of mead and a small bowel.
-
The bartender gave what Larry asked, and Jocun gave him some more money. "It's okay Larry. I just...had a reaction. I'll take a mark." He had yet to tell Larry that he was really just a politician with the ability to morph a dangerous creature in times of need, but after surviving that ordeal, maybe he did deserve something that said he was more than just a civilian politician.
<The scar is going to go away if we morph again. I suppose we'll have to put it back on afterwards?>
<Yeah, I'll get something to make sure the exact shape of the scar is copied, and reapply it as necessary.>
-
Larry takes the bowel and pours whats left of the mead in his first mug into it and then takes a swig from the new mug as he hands the empty one to the bartender. "Very well Jocun. I should tell you that a Hero's Mark is a permanant scar since it is demonic. No matter how many times you shape shift it will never change. Therefore are you certain you want this Mark?" Larry asks his friend.
-
"More magic, huh? That will be easier than putting it back on if I need my abilities again. Go ahead and do it. I doubt it would have many negative consequences." Jocun said. Next time I come back to Sanctuary, I'll see if anyone still needs my help with anything. Though given how much faster time goes there, it could be quite different next time I go."
<I know you don't normally use morphing for stealth, but I guess if that mark is on you, it would give people a way to identify you in morph.>
<I did say it wouldn't have many negative consequences. Not it wouldn't have any. I'll just have to deal with that if the need arises.>
-
Inexplicably and without warning, the reptilian humanoid and his intelligent armour disappear from the bar. There's no flash, no bang, more a wink as they simply vanish. Where they have gone, or even when, is unknown and whether their disappearance will ever be explained remains to be seen...
Lach trudged through the undergrowth of the forest, bow in hand. His long, brown hair tied back into a ponytail with a simple piece of leather. On his head he wore a bandanna he'd purchased from some old store back home, bright black and red with the image of a scantily-clad woman stitched together from old body parts wearing a stove pipe hat, looking like some female voodoo priestess. An amazonian Baron Samedi. The bandanna was Lach's last remaining possesion from home, apart from the tattered black cargo jeans he wore.
The boy's skin was heavily tanned, in stark contrast to the pale boy he's been scarce months ago. He couldn't remember the last time he'd bathed properly, save for quick dips in the shallows, bow at the ready.
The boy's chest was bare save for what looked like a reed breastplate, native american in design, with a circular piece of amber mounted in its center. Three large, bloody claw marks raked the boy's back, fresh and stinging from an encounter mere moments earlier. An encounter he'd barely escaped.
The boy wondered if he'd ever survive this place. If he'd ever find his was back home. The humidity alone here was killing him, never mind the wildlife.
Reaching up to his bandanna the boy flipped down what appeared to be a blue tinted monocle over his right eye, a red tinted monocle already over his left. He saw nothing. Always nothing. Just trees and swamps and insects.
"I just want to be away from here." The boy pleaded desperately. He'd been song long without human contact he given up on any fears he had of being found talking to himself. Lach just wanted to be away from this place. He wanted to be somewhere cool. Most of all, he just wanted a drink.
And it was with that desire that he finally saw it. Waves in the air, like a pebble dropped in a pond, rippling outwards through the air. Something he hadn't seen for nearly six months.
Lach's heart jumped to his throat. This is what he'd be waiting for, what he'd been trying to see all this time. Now he finally wanted it so bad that he'd actually found it!
Taking off at a run, Lach sprinted through the rippling portal, eager to be back home.
Lach sprinted right into the middle of the bar.
-
Dom jumps a little, nearly upsetting his recently refilled drink, when a newcomer seems to simply...appear...m id-run in the middle of the bar. For a moment this is as much as he can process, but then he notes that the stranger appears to be a human male. A half-naked human male.
<<Dominic...>> Reyliss murmurs warningly.
<<Oh, hush. He is young. Far too young for me,>> Dom says with an internal laugh. <<I am just glad to know that the dress code does not require shirts.>>
He grins and raises his glass in greeting to the stranger. "You do know there is a front door, yes?" he asks in a lightly accented voice.
-
Gene has to turn to spy the bare-chested young man who appears apparently out of thin air.
"Okay," he whispers, turning back to Terenia and his beer. "Now I know I'm drunk."
-
Lach is stunned as he comes to a sudden halt, bare feet skidding on the floor, taking in the bar he's abruptly entered. Around him he can he can see all manner of creatures. Human, centaur, even what looks like a monkey in a space suit.
"Great," Lach sighs, dejectedly, "I'm still in Galyanna."
Lach's hands move to his bow, focusing, as an ethereal blue arrow appears, notched and ready. The boy draws the bow back but keeps the bow lowered, cautious of his new surroundings. The wound on his back continues to weep, but Lach has long since learned to tune out the burning pain of such wounds, especially when facing unfamiliar surroundings and potential dangers.
Lach acknowledges the the man with the blue tipped hair and what sounds almost like a russian accent to the boy's unfamiliar ears. "I hadn't exactly been planning on being here." Lach replies.
-
Dom frowns, first at the weapon, then at the boy's back. "You are injured," he says, setting his glass on the counter and stepping forward. He holds up his hands, palms forward, to indicate that he means no harm. "My name is Dom," he says. "You need medical attention. Will you allow me to help?" His eyes dart down to the bow -- a primitive, but effective weapon. He carefully keeps his own hands far away from the Dracon Beam strapped to his side.
Terenia snorts. "You're not drunk," she says. "You're at the damn bar."
-
Lach falters for a moment, realisation dawning on him. He always was slow on the uptake.
People. He was talking to people. An actual human being!
Even better, he was real! Looking through his Hawking Site, the red lens over his left eye, Lach could see that the man wasn't an impersonator, he wasn't surrounded in any sort of holographic disguise!
Shock overcomes his caution, his hand moving away from the bowstring, the blue arrow and bowstring disappearing with a crackle and spark of static electricity. "S-sorry," he murmurs, "I'm not really used to... crowds much, lately."
The bow itself, whilst being a primitive weapon, is also fitted with a hunting scope in its' center, more for a set of crosshairs than a zoom. The bow also seems to be intricately carved from a dark, almost black wood that glints like metal under the light.
Lach looks over his shoulder at his back, the blood running into his pants. "I think I might be able to handle this..." Lach replies, feeling more confident in his concentration after finally having found another portal.
Lach reaches into a small leather satchel on the right side of his hip, big enough to carry a large laptop computer. The front of the pouch adorned with two triangles meeting at their tip in the shape of an hourglass.
C'mon, magical super healing cream! Lach thinks, brow furrowed in concentration, "Heck give me Wolverine's healing abilities, if you can, anything!" The boy mutters out loud to himself.
"Doubt it, though. You've always left me high and dry with nothing but leaves, vines and my old shirts to work with!" he continues, out loud.
The boys body, whilst toned and tan at first glance, shows scars in numerous places, some faint, others not so much, especially around his chest. For the most part, however, the worst of his scars are covered by his reed breastplates. The boy is more wiry than muscular, looking more agile than solid.
Apart from the bow, pants, bandanna, leather satchel, lenses and breastplate, the boy carries no other equipment with him.
-
Larry nods and says. "Very well my friend." Larry picks up the claw and very carfully scratches a wound into Jocuns head that begins at his hairline in the middle of his forhead straight down to the tip of his nose. There is a burning sensation as the claw scratches him, but it lasts only for a few seconds before fading away to nothing. The wound quickly heals and Jocun is now adorned with a Hero's Mark. It is 3/4 of an inch long and black in color. Larry smiles and says. "It is done my friend. You are now recognized as a Hero and though people may not recognize it outside of my land I am sure it will become the subject of many tales as well as enchant the ladies." Larry smirks at Jocun at this and laughs as he takes a huge gulp of mead.
-
"That wasn't so bad." Jocun said. "Looks like someone else poofed in from nowhere. Like a mix of primitive and advanced technology. There was a guy that came in worse than he was, due to an explosion. It nearly killed him, and sent him here somehow. He's more or less ok now, though."
-
Dom's eyebrows raise as he watches the boy speak to himself. "You look as though you could use a drink," he murmurs. He steps over to the bar and places a quick order in Galard. Several moments later he has a second drink in hand, and offers it to the boy. "That, I must say, was one of the most interesting methods of entering this place. Where exactly did you come from?" He raises his dark eyebrows, intrigued.
-
Lach withdraws his hand from the satchel, holding fishing line, a needle and an ointment that reads 'Corona: For Cuts, sores, chapping, scrapes and dry skin. Good for cattle, horses, dogs and cats.'
The boy shrugs, "Well, at least is gave me something besides a breastplate this time." Lach looks up to see the stranger holding a drink out for him and, without a second though or caution drops the items, grabs the drink and downs it, not even waiting to taste it. His throat is so parched that the liquid burns the back of his throat, but it's the best burn he could ask for.
Lach looks up at the stranger, eyebrow raised at his question, "I came from here, in Galyanna. I don't know what part this is though, I haven't seen another human in months." He nods towards the monkey astronaut and the blue centaur, "And I have no idea what planet or period they're supposed to be from. I haven't seen anything besides the 'soids since I came here."
-
"Sorry, I've never heard of Galyanna," Dom says, shrugging a little. His eyebrows raise as the boy inhales his drink, but he says nothing about it, instead sipping his own gingerly. "Do you have a name, or should I just continue to think of you as the half-naked man?" His grin is a little sly. "I assure you, I have no trouble in doing so, although my friend may protest." With a single finger, he taps his temple, indicating the Yeerk that lives there.
-
Larry listens to Jocun as he tucks the claw away. "Amazing. Does this place always attract strange beings that just appear out of nowhere?" Grun nuzzles Larry and Larry notices that the small bowl is empty so he signals the bartender and asks "May I have some berries for my friend here?" The bartender reaches under the bar and brings out a small satchel full of berries that he hands to Laryy. Larry opens it and empties it into the bowl and listens to Jocun as he watches Grun feast upon the berries.
-
"It looks like it. You could probably find someone who has been here longer that can tell you stranger stories than I can." Jocun said as he payed the bartender once more. "Even though you could get yourself drunk here, you probably shouldn't let your guard down too much. I've already witnessed one shootout happen, and there was even a guy who used telekinesis. Luckily no one was really hurt. It's an interesting, but dangerous place, Larry. It's good to have friends to watch your back, though."
-
Ry'tn had been waiting outside the bar door for a long time. He was mainly scared of being known there. With Durlans being one of the most hated races in the galaxy he had voyaged away from any place where the word "Durla" would even sound familiar.
He gathered all of his courage and walked into the bar in the shape of a human in a grey casual suit and sat down next to a man with a bowl of berries, "Give me whatever vodka you have." He told the bartender. The bartender smiled and handed him a small glass with his order in it. If Ry'tn feels comfortable enough he would stop running and stay here.
-
"Now here's a guy that came in without any bleeding wounds." Jocun said while the bartender got the man some vodka. He wrote on a piece of paper "Cash or tab?" after serving the drink.
"Name's Jocun. This guy is Larry, and his raven is Grun. Welcome to the bar."
-
Larry glanced over and nodded at the newcomer while saying. "Greetings traveler" Larry then turned back to watch Grun give the newcomer an assesing look then go back to eating his berries. Larry reached inside his vest and pulled out what looked like some kind of dried meat, like beef jerky and began to eat as well.
-
A man in his twenties named Ike was a religious person from the southern US, wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap. He had gone in a spaceship to find a new planet, since his people had become too numerous for Earth. In their travels, he and others came across a being called The One, and once enveloped he came to believe that they had finally found God. For so long they had wanted to find proof of His existence, and he was overjoyed at being one of the first to witness it.
Now driven to spread the word of The One, he has traveled to a strange place called the GESB. It was odd, but nice, to see a bar where he could get a good drink. He walked through the door, and took a seat near the bartender. To help people believe that God existed, Ike was given the power to perform some small miracles, more on the level of Jesus' ability to turn water to wine than His ability to raise the dead. One such miracle was that he could produce exact change for anything he felt like buying.
He ordered scotch, paid the bartender, and looked around the room while holding a strange medallion in his hand. It showed a healthy tree, surrounded by a wasteland. Followers of The One interpret it as the tree being an oasis in a land of death, though an alternate interpretation was that the tree had sucked the life out of everything around it. Surely he could convince someone to accept salvation here.
-
It had been a long time since he had come.
Mar knew it from the weight in his heart, pumping blood through his veins, and the paths well-worn by travelers through the grass. He was walking through the asteroid's forest, the asteroid that housed one of the multiverse's lesser marvels: The Galaxy's Edge Space Bar. Moments ago he had held power and influence over whole worlds, and he doubted that even that ancient fool knew what the Bar truly was. He doubted he would have called himself a fool, either. Mar grinned at the pleasure of living and began to run ahead towards the wooden building he knew was there.
Running tired him out quickly----he had never had to work at being fast before. Mar breathed in and out, deeply, his hands on his knees. The air on the old place was as cold as ever. He looked up at the building, attempting to sort through jumbled memories. Yes. He had met the paladin Andalite here, Ossanlin. His...friend. He had met a woman here, too---beloved and his, yet not the soul he had followed these many years. He missed it, all of it---it had been a break from the endless war, a break from the limits of being a Highest. Perhaps freedom from himself, what he needed most of all.
Mar pushed open the door to the Bar and glanced about his surroundings, noting that a young man he'd never seen before was already there. He looked kind, young, plain---Mar's opposite in every single way. Mar reached into his pocket and pulled out ordinary pounds, an indication of where he'd just been. The bartender accepted his money and Mar sat down. He didn't mention a drink, but he had the uncanny notion that the bartender knew what he wanted in any case.
"A newcomer, I see," states Mar offhandedly.
-
"Yes. I would never have expected to find a bar like this, so far from home." Ike said in a southern drall. "Ike Williams." He introduced himself and held out a hand to shake the other person's. "Though to tell you the truth, it hasn't been long since we didn't know aliens existed."
-
Mar shakes the man's hand as firmly as he can muster, and rather dutifully. He doesn't have the slightest idea who this man is, and he is none of the people that he entered the place to meet.
"I'm called Mar here," states Mar, smiling a bit. It wasn't an incredibly cheery smile, but for once in his life the man had no desire to hide behind a false countenance. "There are people here for whom it has been far longer. This Bar has a way of playing with time and space----do keep that in mind with the arrivals. We're not all as we appear, but..."
Mar thinks on his next statement, but then responds. It was likely a good generalization. "...travelers come here either to relax or to run away. Most of the time, both. The Bar is closest to a time and place wracked by war."
-
"Honestly I could use a bit of relaxation too. Too many days spent on the ship, surrounded by beeping computers and all that crap. Though when I find a spot with enough people, I try to spread the word of God a bit. I'm a religious man, you see. Not really a preacher or anything, but I met God, and he moved me to spread the Word and bring people to Him. Not eeryone knows about Him on other planets, so I try to fix that."
He looked at Mar to see if the guy was interested, but also looked at the bartender. Unfortunately the bartender made no reaction, and continued wiping a glass with a dirty rag.
-
Mar didn't know how to react. It wasn't the weirdest thing anyone had ever said to him regarding gods, but in context it was hilarious. An evangelist, walking around in a Bar whose main clientele were jaded alien rebels? Mar chuckled a bit. "I don't believe you've found the right place for this sort of thing, or the right person," said Mar with a bit of mirth in his voice. "Most people in this Bar have little use for religion, of any sort. While I find it has its place and uses, I have no desire to convert to any."
"What's your story?" said Mar, laying back in his chair. "Misery? Mental collapse? Hallucination? How did you meet your God?"
-
"Jesus walked among sinners as well as saints. I'm not sure I'm skilled enough to convert people who are decidedly against the idea, and I'm not one to force my beliefs on others. I just bring it up to people and see if they're interested."
"Earth's population was getting so large, we just had to find a new planet. When a probe found one that we could go to, my family was one of the groups that went to it. On the way, the ship I was in hit some sort of inescapable anomaly. It engulfed us, and after the shock I realized it was The One True God. He brought us up to heaven, and it was everything we expected paradise to be. People worshiping God as He provided each of our needs, as long as we continued worshiping Him. Eventually he sent some of us out of heaven to spread the word across the galaxy. To bring people to him, and save them from eternal punishment."
"I don't think anyone really mentioned hell while there, but being in His presence was bliss, and being without him brings pain. I'll do whatever it takes to get home again, and hopefully bring new friends with me. He even taught me a few small miracles to help convince people I'm telling the Truth."
-
The door to the bar swings open. In the doorway stands a woman, perhaps thirty years of age. Her figure belies here excellent fitness, and her form-fitting jumpsuit looks Yeerk in design. The jumpsuit's color, however, is almost entirely black, trimmed in crimson- not the color of any Visser in the Empire. She wears a Dracon Beam at her hip, and a tiny, transparent display screen is held in front of her left eye by what looks like a half-pair of glasses. At the moment, the screen is blank.
In spite of regulations, the woman refuses to wear her hair down, its thick blonde curls cascading down past her shoulders. Her uniform is dirty, her hair is filled with dirt and leaves and burrs, and her stance is one of readiness, but she has not yet drawn her Dracon.
There are fewer locals around than there were last time. That can only be a good thing. She leans back, holding onto the doorframe, to take one last disbelieving look at the outside of the building, and then moves over to sit at one of the bar stools.
"Hey, handsome," she says to the bartender, trying and failing to keep her host's southern drawl in check. "How about a martini?"
<<It's the same place, all right>> she says wonderingly. <<We ended up at the same place again.>>
The bartender sets down something that resembles a martini on the bar next to her and takes a notebook from his pocket, which he opens to a well-worn page. He holds it out for her to read. When she looks, she sees CASH OR TAB written in a neat scrawl on the page.
"Start a tab for me, would you?" she says, her eyes roving down the bartender's form. Nothing she liked more in a man than the sense to stay quiet on occasion.
<<You have to talk to me eventually,>> she says to her host.
The only response, as usual, is <<**** off and die, Yeerk>>
-
Ike noticed the woman come in, looking rather dirty but in some sort of uniform. She had a gun that looked familiar. It might be a Yeerk dracon, though he hadn't seen many Human controllers. Yeerks were one of the species his people had encountered after flying off into space, but they hadn't gotten into open war yet. Not that Yeerks needed open war to get their little slug bodies into your head. He wondered about Mar's comments about time and space. Who knew what was going on, but he'd try to keep his cards close to his chest.
He did have a concealed weapon. A large pistol that could fire lasers or shells. Some of these alien races were advanced enough that their armor was more protective against beam weapons, and a high caliber bullet could punch a hole through it easier. Being a man of peace, but practicality, he made sure to carry a weapon but not flash it in front of people.
He gave her a slight smile if she looked his way, but continued his attention on his current conversation.
-
"So, a Christian then," said Mar dryly. "A Christian in a universe filled with aliens and monsters. My how you keep to the faith. People of your religion have never gotten along very well with me, but I suppose in this tiny dive anything is possible."
Mar frowned at Ike's description, however. From his perspective it was obvious that the man was not describing what he thought he was describing. Yet his perspective, in the universe nearest the Bar, might be wrong. For all he knew the distortion Ike encountered really was God. "Miracles, on the other hand, are so often deceitful. Are you certain that what you saw was m---the Father? I have no doubt that what you saw was a Highest, but it is known that one cannot reach Heaven from the Earthly universe."
The bartender slides Mar's drink down toward him without so much as a word. Mar catches the wine glass as it passes and drinks. White wine, not his usual preference. But of an excellent vintage. Mar turns toward the door and watches as the young blonde woman enters the room. Mar winces in disgust---she's unkempt and wearing a dirty Imperial uniform. Repulsive Yeerk. Caring for your badge of office is very important.
-
"It's the best way I could describe it. It was a force that brought us into itsself, to a place of never ending happiness. When He released us, He commanded us to bring more followers to Him. He wants to bring all creation into Himeself in harmony, to end all conflict and bring His followers happiness. All He asks in exchange for His love is worship."
"The miracles are just to show I gain power from something larger than myself. Belief is up to the one seeing it."
-
The blonde woman catches the man in the plaid shirt smiling at her. The ridiculously-dressed man beside him looks less enthused by her presence. Humans hanging out in a mysterious little bar in the middle of nowhere, just like last time... how the hell can she be here again? Last time it was in deep space. And this time, she supposes, it is lacking the minotaur and the robot, so it's a bit more normal, but the eerie graveyard of empty spacecraft outside sort of destroys that illusion.
She stands up and grabs her martini. She takes a sip as she walks along the bar towards the pair and shudders. Very strong, and not very good. She walks sensually, making sure the pair won't miss her host's figure, and sits down beside the man in plaid with a hair toss.
"Hi there," she says, smiling as charmingly as possible.
-
"Mornin' Ma'am." Ike said, smiling. Though he mostly smiled because he thought it was funny that this dirty gal was trying to be all sexy as she sauntered over. Not that she wouldn't look good after a shower. "My name is Ike. You look like you've had a hectic day. I'm not sure if there's a shower in this place, but I think I saw a lake nearby. Though I'm fine with you either way. I'm not one to turn down a nice lady, such as yourself."
-
"Don't you think that's even vaguely suspicious?" states Mar, his expression curious. "I do not mean to offend you, but....that description hardly matches what is written in your book. I suppose if you've changed your opinions, it is of little concern. What exactly can you do, Ike?"
He wondered if he should mention the problems he'd had accessing his Mass from here, but decided against it. If Ike already knew, he'd be careful as to what he would try. If he didn't know, it would be enjoyable to watch him pay for his ignorance.
Their conversation, however, is interrupted by the sudden appearance of the dirty, voluptuous woman. Mar eyes her body appreciatively but squirms when she sits down. Why was she hitting on them? Was she just that sort of person? Hardly attractive, although her figure was a bit...distracting.
-
"I will admit that the Bible isn't the easiest book to understand, and some parts have been edited over time by people that interpreted it in different ways. Still, the only way I can describe such a force is that it was God. It even called itsself The One God. There was even a lesser being of destruction that it kicked out for wanting to destroy everything. Besides, there was a time when Heaven was in this physical realm. How else would a tower be able to reach it, as stated in genesis?"
"Okay, maybe things aren't exactly as I was brought up to believe, but I am a fallible Human, raised up by other fallible Humans. God is beyond our limited understanding, and if there's anything wrong with my interpretation of Him, it's my fault. Not His."
"As for what I can do..." Ike reached his hand in his pocket, and pulled it inside out to show there wasn't anything in it. Then he put it back, and pulled out his hand with money inside it. "You may know that Jesus could turn water to wine, but I've never gone to a bar, turned water into beer, and told everyone I had free drinks. Surely the establishment wouldn't like that."
He took his glass, and poured a bit onto the counter. He then put his hand on it, and lifted it up to show a completely dry counter and hand. "I clean up well too."
-
The blonde woman flushes at Ike's suggestion of a shower. Does she really look that bad? She runs a hand through her hair, feeling the dirt and leaves and twigs stuck there. She looks down at her soiled uniform.
Yeah, she does look that bad. She sighs. Hitting on these two morons would be easier if she didn't look like a dirty hermit.
"Name's Rose," she says, giving the name of her host and flashing her smile again in spite of her appearance. "I guess you could say it's been a bit of a hectic day."
She watches as Ike does a couple of seemingly impossible things. The whole time, he rambles on about Jesus and the Bible and that sort of human drivel. But the things he's saying... Rose knows those aren't quite right. Something is off, there.
"Pretty neat tricks," she says, leaning closer to him.
She looks over at the other man, with his ridiculous garb. "What are you supposed to be?" she asks him as she absently reaches up to begin brushing leaves and twigs from her hair.
-
"Thank you." Normally he'd like it if a woman was this close to him, but this one most likely had a Yeerk in her head. Fortunately it wasn't like Yeerks had the easiest time passing from host to host. You had to be willing or restrained, so it wasn't like the alien could just jump out of her ear and into his head from her being this close. He kept his smile on, but his guard up.
Not that Mar looked like a completely normal Human, or that he was really any more trustworthy. The guy was a stranger, and apparently had been here before. There wasn't any telling what he could and couldn't do. So he was surrounded by possibly dangerous people, but he kept a cool head about it. No need to get antsy or paranoid. He had a weapon that they may or may not be aware of, and abilities that were a little more useful in a fight than money or making things disappear.
He wondered if someone threatened him, could he pull out a huge wad of cash to pay them off? Or would they just kidnap him and play "goose that laid the golden egg" with him? Unfortunately that little fairy tail didn't end well for the goose.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
-
The saloon-style doors bang open with a fair amount of force as an Ildari male storms through, his black and silver half-cape flaring out behind him. His fair-featured face a thundercloud instead of its usual ****y grin, sky-blue-silver eyes flashing with a dangerous light. His shoulder-length silver-blue hair bound up into a rough pony-tail at the top of the back of his head. He draws one of his curved fighting knives and walks up to the bar, whipping it forward, stopping the swing so that the tip rests a hairsbreadth from the BT’s throat. He stares across the bar at the being, who doesn’t appear the least bit alarmed. In fact, he hadn’t moved at all aside from the continued motions of his hand wiping a grubby-looking mug with a dingy cloth.
“Where is he? Where’s that backstabbing bastard?!” Rathien’s blade quivers slightly with his barely-constrained rage.
The BT arches an eyebrow, setting the mug on the counter. He casually reaches a finger up and pushes the blade off to the side, setting a stemmed crystal goblet of miruvin down in front of Rathien. Rathien glances down at it, and then back up at the BT. The being hadn’t grabbed a bottle, he hadn’t grabbed the goblet, and he certainly hadn’t poured anything. The goblet just…was.
Rathien slowly lowers the blade and then sheathes it across his back. He picks up the goblet and swallows half of it in one go. The silvery-clear liquor cools his throat to ice and sets it afire at the same time, settling in his belly satisfyingly. He looks around the bar for the first time and notes only one familiar face, and it wasn’t that bastard, Salem. He plunges his claws into the bar-top, imagining Salem’s neck there, before sitting down by himself. He takes another swallow of miruvin, yanking his claws out of the well-worn wood in a small spray of splinters. He watches as the splinters slither their way back to the rents in the wood and heal them as if the damage had never been done.
Rathien suddenly frowns and glances back over at the woman sitting in the small group of three. That uniform and its insignia…he turns his eyes back toward the bar-top. A Temser. Here. He swallows the rest of his goblet of miruvin and taps the counter. The BT walks over to actually pour Rathien the round this time.
-
Ike watched another person come in, enraged for some reason and ranting about some backstabber. The bartender seemingly pulled a drink from nowhere, and the counter healed itsself after the person jabbed his claws in it. This was a strange place indeed. He didn't say anything to the newcomer, though. He had enough going on already. He didn't like that this guy pulled a knife on the bartender like that, but he looked a bit too dangerous for Ike to play bouncer.
-
A shape emerges from the back hallway of the bar, from the restrooms, and stands, blinking, as he stares around the room.
<<It appears things have become quite crowded in our brief absence,>> he observes, gray eyes taking in the primarily humanoid forms. This seems to suit him well enough, and he gives the newcomers a small smile as he makes his way to the bar, where an empty pint of beer marks the place he has already claimed.
He does take note of one of the patrons, a woman, who has a standard Dracon, the same as his own, strapped to her waist. This raises his eyebrows but otherwise brings no reaction. Raising a single hand he draws the bartender over and murmurs to him briefly. The bartender does not respond, except to go and retrieve the requested drink.
The young man watches the bar at large while he waits for his order to be filled. His host is in his late twenties or early thirties, with light brown hair, gray eyes and a smattering of freckles that were likely far more prevalent in his childhood. There is a generally amiable look about him, despite the sharp curiosity of his gaze.
-
'Rose' considers Ike for a moment, then shakes her head. "No. I do not want to talk about it." She smiles and places a hand on his shoulder, "Awful sweet of you, though."
She turns to look when the front doors are slammed open. Into the room, screeching about something walks a man. Only... he's not quite a man. She knows that face. An Ildari. A hunter. A tool of the Empire. He's taller in person than his folio picture made him seem. As he threatens the bartender, she tries to remember what she's read about him, but she's drawing a blank.
And there, off in the corner... a man she didn't notice earlier. Kind of cute, actually, but the thing that catches her eye is the Dracon he wears.
She couldn't find anything in the databases, but the Dracon and the Ildari...
"Are you all Yeerks here?" she asks bluntly, turning back to Ike and the other man. Instead of her flirtatious smile, she now wears an icy glare.
-
The man glances up at the word 'Yeerks', eyes surveying the woman a little more closely. He takes in her disheveled appearance as he accepts the beer from the bartender. Whatever else he might be thinking, it is clear that he isn't impressed. A small smile quirks his lips, but nothing more, and he turns back to his drink, keeping one ear on the conversation.
-
"Don't mention it." He said, giving another small smile as she put her hand on his shoulder.
"I am not a Yeerk." Ike said. He noticed her flirtatious façade had dropped, and she stared around the room coldly. Should he tell her he knows what a Yeerk is? He doubted it would leave its host and let him talk to her personally. Maybe he'd play innocent a little longer. "Why do you ask?"
He noticed the man that came through the back door recognized the term, but didn't reat much.
-
Mar notes the woman attempting to wring conversation out of him. He's less than thrilled with the idea of talking to this washed-out Imperial, but he supposes he has no choice. Ike's strange matter-generating abilities floor him----he's done similar tricks before on a far greater scale, but certainly not in a universe parallel to the Yeerk-Andalite War. And not in this body. Mar grasps his jacket in his hand, its strange smooth fabric pleasant to the touch.
He then lets and go and says to the woman, "I'm hardly a Yeerk." Her eyes had turned hard--- that was interesting. "Even here, although I could be infested...doubtles s any Yeerk that entered my mind wouldn't like what they saw. Although I might point out that this is a Bar mainly frequented by the wasted wrecks of your kind. You should feel right at home."
Mar sees at least one familiar face enter, and immediately tenses up---ahah, it was Rathien! That was a problem. His intention to meet with Salem if he arrived would have to be cut short. Mar did not think he stood a chance of taking the creature on his own, so he resolved to be as...civil...as he could.
-
Rathien glances up at the controller again, taking a sip out of his refreshed goblet. He arches an eyebrow before speaking. "I would ask the same of you, but I doubt anyone but a Yeerk could obtain that uniform, eh Temser?" He smirks and takes another swallow. The host wasn't half bad if you didn't mind the dirt and twigs...and the Yeerk. For some reason, Salem's face floats through his mind's eye and his eyes widen a bit as he turns back toward the bar, scrutinizing the silvery clear liquid in his goblet. Why had that image been called up? After he masters himself, and the flush he hopes was taken for slight excitement clears from the skin on his neck and jawline, he returns to grinning ****ily at the controller.
-
'Rose' frowns when Ike and the other man beside him assure her that they're not, in fact, Yeerks at all. Uninfested humans, then. But uninfested humans who know what Yeerks are, judging by their reactions.
"No reason at all," she says to Ike with a halfhearted imitation of her former flirtatious demeanor. What the hell is this place?
When the other man says something about her 'fitting right in,' she shoots him a glare. And what does he mean he could be infested? She's missing something that's going on here, and she intends to find out what that is.
"Wasted wrecks of 'my kind,' is it?" she says, turning icy again. "And what 'kind' is that?"
"That's Temser 2," she says, turning to the Ildari with an air of annoyance. When he flushes, she assumes its because he hadn't realized her rank (Who wouldn't be intimidated by the second Temser? she thinks proudly), and her expression softens. "But it's good to see a friendly face. You got a name, darlin'?"
-
The young man hesitates in sipping his beer, recognizing the Yeerkish word. His eyebrows pucker a little at its context, though. It is not uncommon, he has found, for things in this place to be a little off at times.
<<She's probably not even from the same universe,>> he muses to his silent host. Still, she is evidently a Yeerk, which is cause for at least some hope. Thus far his attempts to use this strange place to his advantage have failed miserably.
Hoping to be discreet, he sets his beer back on the table and slides his right hand down to his holster, reaching not for his Dracon, but the small compartment on his opposite hip, where his computer cube, comm link, and bioscanner reside. Taking out the bioscanner he activates a small hologram, keeping it focused beneath the ledge of the bar as he does a wide-range sweep for lifeforms. The technology is not accurate enough to pinpoint exactly who is what -- at least not without a direct scan of an individual -- but it will effectively tell him if there are other lifeforms recognized by the database. He has long since learned that just because it talks like a Yeerk, that does not mean it is a Yeerk.
-
"I don't really know what a Temser 2 is." Ike said. "The only thing I really know about Yeerks is you're a sentient race that lives in pools, but can't really do much without hosts. Your people took off into space, looking for hosts, but unfortunately for us your government didn't outlaw slavery. I can understand if it's hard to find enough voluntary people for every Yeerk, but I can't say that's a good excuse to burden a species with slavery because of it."
"Not that it takes a person who requires a host to get the idea to enslave anyone. Human culture has its dark history too. Though you probably know that."
-
Rathien smirks and puts his hands out in an "Oh well" gesture. "Temser 2 or Temser 20, you're still a Temser, Darkness in the Light." He chuckles to himself at the little inside joke. And she was apparently a manipulator, although that wasn't terribly surprising, given her affiliation. Rathien always marveled at all the striking similarities between the Yeerks' Light in the Darkness and the Andalites' Sector Seven. The two organizations would fit quite well together in bed, and Rathien had gladly accepted contracts from both of them...sometimes against officials of the opposite organization. He'd even used a contract meeting to achieve the objective of another contract before. It had been all but comical.
"Hmm...a name. What's in a name?" He chuckles at the joke at his own species' expense. He throws a booted foot up on a nearby table and crosses his other leg over it, turning to face the Yeerk more directly. "I do have a name, Darkness, but I have a feeling you know it already." He grins a little wider. "But what about you? What name would you prefer I use? Assuming Darkness isn't suitable to you, that is." He arches an eyebrow, ****y smirk still plastered on his face.
-
Mar smirks as if initially forming a typical response, but then suppresses his smile as the conversation between Rathien and the dirt-caked woman took a strange turn. She was something significant in the Yeerk world that Mar did not understand---what did Darkness in the Light mean? He was far out of the loop in this place, and he knew that. Yet it still frustrated him. Nonetheless, Mar laced his hands together and looked at the woman with an offhand smile. She had asked a question.
"This Bar is one of the main Peace Movement haunts in the galaxy," said Mar. "Those are the kind of scum I meant, and you look no cleaner than them. By your kind naturally, I meant Yeerks. The slimy denizens of your Empire. Odd though your outfit may be, I recognize some of its basic contours. You could say I have a few acquaintances in the conflict."
-
'Rose' rounds on Ike, fury in her eyes. "Don't you dare compare what we do with what you stupid apes call slavery," she hisses through clenched teeth. "You destroy each other and yourselves in a million different ways and then you decide that that's what we're doing too, just because it makes you feel so self-righteous." She glares at him for a moment, and looks as though she's about to say more, but then she breathes, deeply, and tries to calm herself down.
"Sorry, darlin'" she says, tossing her hair and smiling again. She frowns briefly at the twig that flies out of her curls to land on the bar counter, then continues, "I just feel like you might be assumin' a bit much about us."
She turns to the Ildari with a sigh, flipping through her host's memories to see if she could, indeed, figure out his name. "My name is Elriss Four-Nine-Zero of the Hett Simplat pool, but you may call me Temser, Mr..." wait... there it is... "Rathien d'ilarianiil fen'Mirwindrierien or'Elienal sen'Ildiar." She frowns as she reads the name from within her host's own mind. She raises an eyebrow at him, "You go by somethin' shorter?"
She turns towards the other man, her frown again turning icy. His attitude is atrocious- the lack of respect in this place is going to drive her nuts. She hasn't been this long away from the Light in ages.
"Peace Movement," she scoffs, then looks around and reconsiders what she'd been about to say. If this is truly a Peace Movement hold, she might be in more danger than she'd thought initially. Why does it always seem like those rebels keep popping up again, no matter how often they're eliminated? If she's stumbled onto a Peace Movement stronghold, it might be an opportunity to make them less of a threat to the Empire.
Assuming, that is, that she hasn't already tipped her hand, she thinks, looking down at her uniform, and flushing as she realizes how haphazardly she's been tossing her title around. Hardly good for being undercover.
After several moments, she looks back up at him and manages a shaky smile, "Well, that is why I'm here."
-
Ike flinches. If Mar hadn't been sitting on the other side of him, he would have scooted back a seat. "Oh, woah, I didn't mean to offend. You are totally right, I don't know much at all about your people, and didn't mean anything offensive. I only mentioned Human slavery to show that our hands aren't clean either, and if what we did to our own kind is worse than how you treat hosts, then that's all the more proof that we are not ones to throw stones." He was glad she calmed down a bit and apologized. He didn't want to make enemies. "My apologies too. Perhaps time spent here will help me get a better idea of Yeerks."
He had heard that Yeerks sometimes or often treated hosts as property, which would fit the Human definition of slavery, though he hadn't talked personally to any Yeerks about it. Hopefully this would be an informative experience, if he could stay on friendly terms.
-
Rathien chuckles and sips from his goblet. "Hmm...you have the whole of it. Not that I'm surprised. Sector Seven would be able to recite that litany as well." He takes another sip. "Elriss...not bad for a Yeerk name. My contract code-name is Windwolf, though I suppose you know that already too. Rathien will do, if you please. Usually only my friends call me Rathien, but for a host so attractive as yours..." He smirks, letting the sentence hang, before gesturing with his goblet. "So, Elriss...care for a drink? I guarantee they'll have anything you want."
-
"If you're here to see the Peace Movement, I don't see any of the usual locals around the Bar," says Mar casually, noting her discomfort with some interest. She had been trying to manipulate everyone here, but it was obvious she had run into the wrong crowd. This group was either too immune to her charms or too entirely uninvolved with Myitt's war. Dearest Precious...he hadn't seen her in some time. "If you're hear to kill the Peace Movement, you can't do it from here. While the rebels frequent the Bar, it isn't technically a base."
Mar takes another sip of his wine, smirking a bit. "...and with that little outburst about slavery out of the way, you're clearly not a rebel. I would dispute the issue--- however well one treats a thrall, you're still subverting another's will for your own. Why bother getting upset about it when you can revel in your absolute power over a life instead?"
-
"Stupid apes, I like that," the young man says once he is done frowning at his scanner and has slid it back into his holster. He slides off of his stool, giving Ike and Rathien both a wary glance before settling his gaze on Elriss. His gaze does pass briefly over Mar as well, but it is with the disdain of someone who is too close to someone beneath him.
"Though I must say," he continues, coming to a stop relatively close to the group. "I have not heard the word temser used in such a context before. Are you intending to open a school of sorts?" He smiles pleasantly enough, laughing faintly at his own bad joke before offering Elriss his hand. "Haviss Four-Seven-Seven of the Kal Reditt Pool. You are the first Yeerk I have seen wander in here in quite some time. It's a pleasure."
-
"Yeerks have no hands to dirty," Elriss says to Ike with a halfhearted smirk. She looks around the bar, now very much aware of what she perceives to be a "Peace Movement" vibe, and chooses her words carefully. "Some Yeerks are worse than others, just as some humans are worse than others, but a... partnership can only benefit all involved."
<<Bull****, Yeerk,>> says her host. <<He's right. You're nothing more than a slaver.>>
<<I've always been good to you,>> responds Elriss.
<<Except for the part where you won't get the **** out of my head!>> Her host is starting to get angry now, so Elriss ignores Rose, hoping she'll stop fighting so much. Even sharing a head with Rose, she's never quite sure what's going to set her off until she sees it.
Her eyes widen a bit as she turns to Rathien, and she leans towards him, bringing her voice low. "Anything?" she asks with a sly smile. "Buy me a Redin then, Mr. Rathien?" she says, her expression one of practiced innocence. In her mind, she laughs. She hasn't had Redin but once, and there'll be no quicker way to deflate Rathien's ego than to immediately ask for a drink that this bar is sure not to have.
She turns towards the other man and swallows- he's truly infuriating, this one. So far, he's continued to point out that she's definitely Imperial, accused her of being a sadistic slaver, and brought to the forefront that she might be a danger to the Peace Movement.
On the other hand, he did say there are no Peace Movement individuals around here. The thoughts about this man and this place fight with each other in her head, and she opts to respond simply with "Some of us revel less than others." Her host continues to curse and rant in the back of her mind, and she frowns. <<Would you calm down?>>
<<If you let me go home, you awful slaver ****!>> Great. She's added 'slaver' to her list of insults now.
She turns as Haviss approaches. When he gives a Yeerk name, she smiles- this smile is very different from the flirtatious one she's been using; colder, more commanding, though it does waver in annoyance when Haviss doesn't recognize her title. Most Yeerks wouldn't, of course, but lately Elriss has spent so much time around the Light that she's begun to take for granted that being a 'Temser' will carry some weight.
"May the Kandrona shine and strengthen you, brother," she says, shaking his hand. "Pleasure's mine. I'm afraid I'm a little confused," she says, waving a hand to indicate the bar at large. "What kind of place exists where Yeerks and unhosted humans can just... mingle?"
-
"Oh, there's no doubt of that," says Mar. "It is the same with every race prone to stealing lives out of necessity. Biological or economic. Some merely do what they're required to without a hint of guilt and profess ignorance. Others fall in with the party line. Others object, and still others...enjoy every minute of it."
If this...Temser...were throwing about her seemingly important title so lightly, it meant that whatever effect the Bar had on its patrons was working. It had done a number on Mar himself, once. The woman eventually turns to look at the approaching Yeerk, who seems amiable enough. Mar can't say that he recognizes the Yeerk, so he cannot be sure of the creature's political status. He could be Peace Movement, thus far, and he could not be.
"Mad place, isn't it?" Mar says with a glance at Ike.
-
Ike smiles at Elriss' joke to seem more friendly, though obviously not having hands doesn't make you innocent. He wondered what Rose might be saying, and if it was possible for her to convey any resistance past Elriss' control. He glanced at his medallion, wondering if God could give him a sign, and tell him what he should do about this if anything at all. "I'm all for equal partnerships for Yeerks, though I haven't been asked to volunteer. You're really the first Yeerk I've spoken to personally."
The other person gave a Yeerk name too, but he seemed more genuinely friendly. Ike gave a small wave as he came over.
"You were right about this place before, Mar. Should I be excited or afraid when the night group comes in?" He said, knowing bars get much more active at night.
-
*At the edge of the forest the air began shimmering as if heated. Bright flashes of white light began emanating from the center of the shimmering air and then suddenly a portal made of blue and white light appeared. Through this portal walked out a man of great importance and stature, for in his homeland he was regarded as a Hero for vanquishing the Prime Evil Lords.
As the man began walking towards the Bar a Raven flew out of the portal and landed upon his shoulder. The man grinned and petted his faithful friend. Sunlight reflected off the mans face and highlighted few unique facial scars that seemed to be purposely made and each had different characteristics. The first scar started above his right eye then traveled across and down his face to end below his left eye. This wound was maybe half an inch wide. The second scar started above his left eye and traveled across and down his face to end below his right eye. This scar was perhaps an inch wide. The third and final scar started at the center of his forehead beginning at his hairline and ended at the tip of his nose and was 3/4 of an inch wide.
Another characteristic the sun highlighted was his eyes, which were two different colors. The right eye was a sparkling sapphire and the left was a shimmering emerald. A three and a half foot wooden staff that is adorned by a fist sized ruby is hung from his shoulder by a thin strap of leather that crosses his chest. He wears a vest, pants and boots all made from thick black leather. The man opened the door to the Bar and looked around, noting a few individuals all of them seemingly humanoid.
He walked up to the bartender and as he dug in a satchel proclaimed somewhat loudly "Bartender, a round of drinks all around!!!" With that proclamation he laid down a fistful of gold coins and said "A pint of mead for myself and a bowl of berries for my companion" His Raven hopped down off of his shoulder and perched on the bar as the Bartender got the Mead and berries and put them in front of the newcomers.
-
"A place where many of the unhosted humans come from places we have no foothold," Haviss says, glancing at Ike and raising his eyebrows a little at the wave. "The humans here, if uninfested, rarely come from the Earth my host is from, and crossing universes becomes messy quite quickly. It is easier to leave them alone for the time being."
His eyes drift to her hair. "You look as if you had a bit of a rough time getting here. Do you need assistance?"
He looks up at the arrival of a rather bawdy newcomer with a bird, frowning at him briefly but saying nothing. He resolves to keep his eye on him though.
-
"Thanks for the free refill, friend." Ike said, and ordered more scotch.
Maybe Rose and Elriss were from a different universe from him, instead of just a wayward member of his people. In which case it might be better not to interfere, aside from his usual attempt at converting people to his religion. That could be the answer he needed.
-
Rathien arches his eyebrow at the newcomer, but accepts a refill of his goblet. His smile deepens as he nods at the BT and then returns his gaze to Elriss. The BT sets a tall glass of red liquor in front of Rathien, and he grins again. "Elriss..." He slides the glass gently down the bar to stop a half-foot shy of Elriss's barstool. "Anything, love." He smirks again.
-
Elriss frowns at the man Ike called 'Mar.' From the sound of things, Ike's a newcomer, but Mar certainly seems to have some idea of what's going on at this little bar. Either that, or he's going out of his way to make her feel uncomfortable here.
"What we do isn't as evil as you make it out to be," she says quietly, with a hint of her seductive demeanor. "It's better for everyone. It's not our fault if not everyone can see that."
<<Die in a fire.>>
"I'll try to make a good impression for my species," she says, smiling at Ike. "I find that what humans know of us comes from the Andalites, and, bless their hearts, they tend to be a little biased."
<<And right.>>
<<Why have you suddenly decided to pay attention?>> asks Elriss. Whenever her host is brooding and withdrawn, Elriss is looking for ways to engage her in the situation, but when Rose is actually paying attention all she ever wants to do is hurl insults. Elriss can't help but feel that Rose isn't putting the same effort into this relationship that she is.
<<This place is interesting. If I'm lucky, one of these Peace Movement guys they're talking about will shoot us.>>
<<It's the Peace Movement, dear.>>
She turns to look as the newcomer makes his way through the door. His face is scarred, he has a bird, and the way he's dressed... this really does seem to be an eclectic little mix. He orders a round for the bar and pays with... are those gold coins? She suppresses a smirk. This is getting absurd.
She turns to Haviss, her expression darkening. "Universes?" she parrots. "You're telling me this is actually a crossroads for beings from other universes?"
When Rathien slides her a glass, she looks at it dubiously. It certainly looks like Redin. She takes a sip and her jaw drops. It most certainly is. She looks to Rathien with wonder in her eyes.
She looks around. The bizarre mixture of clients, the drink that nobody should know about... even the fact that she's somehow ended up here again... Maybe this is a place with people from 'different universes.' That idiot Thienal has ranted about 'alternate universes' on a dozen occasions, and the Light has come to accept their existence as fact, but she'd never expected to actually experience one. If what Haviss has said is true, there's so much more at stake here than just some little Peace Movement hideout. By the Kandrona, if the Empire could get their hands on this place...
Still distracted by her thoughts, she responds "No, thanks," to Haviss' offer of assistance. She looks back at him and again dons her cold smile, ambition flaring in her eyes, "I don't expect I'll be staying long."
-
"A guy I knew met an Andalite once, while he was repairing his ship. He sold the guy some parts, helped get the ship together, and the Andalite talked his ear off about the war. Though with the information on Andalites we've gotten from other species, I don't have all that high an opinion of them either. This isn't like the story books where you have black and white good and evil. Real life never is that simple. Smart people will take one side's story with a grain of salt." Ike said.
"Though maybe if I can spread the Word of God among Yeerks, Andalites, and other species, I'm sure we can find a solution to this war. Sin causes war, among other things, and in Heaven there will be no sin. Only bliss."
-
The man in leather raised his glass to the man who called him friend and responded "Its a simple pleasure my friend for a time a celebration is needed for the new age in my dimension. I sucessfully vanquished the Prime Evil Lords and now I feel the need to spread the word and the celebration. So a toast to the new age in Sactuary" The man in leather raised his glass high, even though he knew that these people had no clue what he was talking about and would probably think he was not mentally stable.
-
Mar rolls his eyes, noting the peculiar man who was ordering everyone drinks. An aging "Crimson"---- yes, that was exactly what he needed to start off his likely long tenure at this Bar. Still, nonetheless---- as the white wine refill was slid in his general direction by the Bartender, Mar gave a slight nod and smile to the newcomer. "Thank you, sir. Much appreciated, although you should know that I've only seen someone pay the tab once. It did not end well. You seem...in excellent health for one who killed several other men."
Mar then turns his attention to the peculiar Imperial named Elriss. Surrounded by rebels during his entire time as a human, he had never before run into a person who actually believed the Empire's propaganda. It would be interesting to see whether a different perspective shed a different light upon the war. The Bar's current clientele were certainly of a greater range than last he had come.
"This is indeed a crossroads into other universes, and several other things besides," says Mar. "Beings without a physical form can take one here, and those coming from worlds with incompatible physical laws can co-exist. The powerful are distant from their worries and vulnerable, and the weak can gain greater strength. As for your Yeerks, well...your opinion of their abilities is one I haven't heard before. What do you believe a human gains from the loss of control?"
-
"Here here!" Ike said, raising his glass. Who knew if this guy was telling the truth or what, but it sounded like a tale worth getting a free refill for. Ignoring the fact that Ike had infinite money, of course. He listened to Mar's description of various powers, and could sense that something else was listening too. Some presence. It wasn't quite something he could see, but he could sense something trying...what? Like someone stretching after a long sleep. Then it was gone, as quietly as it came, as if it didn't really know it could attempt moving until Mar mentioned it was possible. Ike shrugged it off as more weirdness of the bar.
-
Rathien can almost see the gears turning in Elriss's little neural body. Of course a member of the "Light" would see a tactical usage for the place. "You're not the first to see this place in that light, Elriss. But try as you might to bring an occupation force here, I can almost guarantee they'll never find their way in. This place is just His playground." He points his thumb toward the bartender. "I think He just finds it entertaining. I suppose...after all, what could an immortal really do to entertain Himself? I'm pretty sure He's not willing to let you use this place for a military stronghold."
-
Elriss nods distractedly as Ike talks about 'a guy' who traded ship parts with an Andalite. It seems, where Ike's from, that things are a little different, but next to the crazy with the bird and the gold coins talking about 'evil lords,' Ike's a paragon of normalcy. The fact that he still feels should be preaching the 'Word of God' to Yeerks, though, makes her laugh.
"You can keep your faith even in the presence of space aliens," she says, putting a hand on his shoulder with a smile. "You deserve some respect for that. My host had her doubts when she found out about us."
As she listens to Mar's assessment of the Bar, she can feel the world roll away, a tingling at the base of her spine, an excitement adrenaline. This... this was something new. Something exciting.
"A human," she says, "gains the chance to live a healthy, full life, free from pain and worry. Two minds are better than one, and together we can accomplish so much more. Now humanity..." she grins, "humanity at large gains so much more. The elimination of war, of crime, of disease, prejudice, violence, fear," she smirks, "slavery." She puts on an exaggerated, mocking pout, "But I suppose none of that matters in the slightest when it's someone else making the decisions."
She turns to Rathien, anger flashing in her eyes, before sliding back into her flirtatious demeanor. "The Light's been here once before, darlin'. They can be again." In spite of her confident words, she's beginning to doubt. They'd tried to find their way back, repeatedly in some cases. Her eyes flicker towards the bartender, so unassuming she'd almost forgotten he was there. If this place is really what Mar and Rathien claim it is, what does that make him?
-
"I've never been one to disbelieve in aliens, just because the Bible didn't mention them. I have met God personally, in space, and that meeting has fueled my religious fervor. Now I serve Him more completely than ever."
"I doubt that Yeerks are of such a hive mond that your people don't have disagreements among yourselves. I think a problem is how much say do hosts have in how Yeerks run their government. No, how much say do the regular Yeerks have to say about how the government runs, when the government has control over the pools? What's the check and balance here?"
-
Haviss watches Elriss for a moment, a small, knowing smile spreading across his features as he listens to her rant. "You have a lot of opinions," he observes. "Not that I necessarily disagree with them." He tilts his head a little, watching her, nodding in agreement with Rathien. "I would advise against getting too excited about this place, though. Even if you could get the coordinates to the Empire, by the time a fleet arrived they will have changed. It is an...annoying attribute of this bar, being unable to be found unless it wants you to find it. Trust me, I have tried alerting the Empire to its presence, and it did more harm than good."
Haviss glances at Ike. "Every Yeerk has the same opportunity to rise through the ranks to a position of power and influence," he says with a small shrug. "The Vissers and Sub-Vissers of the Empire spend enough time screwing one another over that there's almost always an open position, if one is patient enough. Of course the true influence comes from below the figureheads, and true success is not born from a rank."
-
"I am a fundamental believer in self-determination," states Mar with a contemplative, serious look unbefitting the arrogant man. He's suddenly given her his full attention. "In the place and mode of existence that I arise from, you might say that I was one of those who gave human beings the option. I don't dispute that a human controlled by a Yeerk might behave in healthier ways toward themselves and their lives. Or that the introduction of human beings into your society would eliminate their petty squabbles. However..."
Mar lingers momentarily, as if thinking. He taps his odd, evidently prosthetic left hand on the Bar's surface. "...you cannot expect them to be as happy as they are healthy, in that case. Their sense of Self, either as a person or as a member of a group, often both...is paramount to them. That is what they would be trading for security, and that is why most will not make the deal."
It was peculiar and possibly hypocritical of him, he knew, to be making such remarks when he had done much to oppress and eliminate choice for the same race. Yet the Yeerk did not realize that, and all the same...Myitt's race eliminated even the option of choice. Of thinking differently. And that option, he felt, was what was crucial to the entire Game having meaning.
-
Elriss raises her eyebrows when Ike talks about 'meeting God personally in space.' Poor man seems to be suffering from delusions.
She turns to Haviss, a confident smile playing across her features, "You don't know the Light like I do. If there's a way into this place, they'll find it."
As Haviss speaks about the Vissers and their power games, Elriss nods and smiles. "Exactly," she says. She's starting to like this Yeerk. At no point does she realize that his talk of Yeerks obsessed with rank could just as easily be referring to her.
She turns to Ike, "There are disagreements between Yeerks, sure. The point is that Yeerks won't kill each other over those disagreements. Well..." she pauses, thinking of a few notable Vissers... and of the Rebellion... "there are a few exceptions. We're still nowhere near as bad as your people."
When Mar speaks, a look of anger crosses her face. She's really, really starting to dislike this man. "And what would you have instead? You'd give the humans their self-determination, their freedom, and ask my people to give up ours? You'd ask us to confine ourselves to Yeerk pools, to live out our lives as nothing more than creatures in the muck? We're so much more than that. We deserve so much more than that!" Her voice sounds angry, but her eyes are brimming with tears. This is clearly something she's quite passionate about.
"Where's the freedom for the Yeerks, then, ****?" she growls. "Why are your freedoms more important than ours? Where's the choice for all the dead humans, killed by those who did have a choice? You think our hosts have no self-determination, no right to choose? You forget that we share a head with them twenty-four seven. What they think, what they want... it's a hard thing to ignore."
<<I want you out of my brain. How's that sound?>>
<<Shut up.>>
"Our hosts lose a little freedom. They still see and feel and live fuller lives than we do without them. And Yeerks... we gain... an entire world. Our own lives. The ability to live up to our potential. And we can help them to better lives in the process. But please," she leans forward, feigned interest barely concealing her anger, "explain to me how things are better your way."
She sits back, and looks around, a little worried. She's never ranted like this before. She's never really had the opportunity.
-
"It's good to hear of a species that didn't spend much of its history killing each other over resources or beliefs." Ike said, though he took her words with a grain of salt. "What system do you use to gain voluntary hosts? How do you let them know of the positive sides, and look past any negatives?" He was genuinely interested in finding out more. He could tell she was sensitive about criticism, but seemed to open up when he talked favorably about her.
-
Rathien laughs out loud at Elriss's rant before speaking. "Did it not occur to you that the only reason your species doesn't have a war-like history is precisely because you were confined to swimming around in localized pools?" He shrugs his shoulders and puts on a consoling expression. "But maybe your right...I mean...it's not like the first thing you did immediately after gaining multiple hosts and space-flight was to launch a long, bloody, destructive, oppressive, tyrannical, horribly violent, and deadly war against the entire Galaxy that's cost millions of lives or anything. " He sips at his goblet innocently.
-
Haviss is silent throughout Elriss' rant, but when it is over he nods in agreement.
"The war is the cause of the Andalites, not us," Haviss says to Rathien, cutting into the debate. "We could have taken the Hork-Bajir planet easily, with minimal force, but they were the ones that insisted on fighting. They were the ones that unleashed a quantum virus. We've done quite a job of bringing Earth over to the Empire while minimizing the loss of life. And the Taxxon's cut a deal with us -- there was almost no bloodshed there. Conquest is not our primary objective, but sometimes our hands are forced."
He glances at Ike. "Voluntary controllers usually find a way to seek us out on their own. They are few and far between, at least among the humans, but they do exist. Most humans do not believe that we can help them, so slightly more direct measures must be taken." He smiles thinly. "They are not physically harmed, though."
-
Ike thought Rathien made a good point, but didn't comment. He just took in the other side while staying friendly with the Yeerks.
"You have found Earth, huh? That either didn't happen in my timeline, or I'm just not aware of it. Humans as a whole value personal freedom above all things. It is part of why our species has sinful natures. Christians try to bring people to God, but we have a hard time reconciling taking guidance from God, and wanting to be ourselves. I can imagine Yeerks not having a much easier time either. The idea that one would have to sacrifice any control over their own destiny, for good or bad, is abhorrent to most."
"I haven't heard of a quantum virus. I believe Andalites are more secretive about themselves, especially anything that they may feel guilty about. Not that Humans aren't similar in that."
"I would greatly suggest not trying to force people. Just gather as many voluntaries as possible, and show the goodness that comes from such unions. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, after all."
-
Rathien nods as if in understanding before taking another sip. "Soooo...your hands were forced to invade a peaceful herbivorous species that already had a hyper-intelligent guardian race looking after them? So noble of you to destroy a culture in near-perfect equilibrium. I mean...the fact that Hork-Bajir are walking potential weapons obviously had nothing to do with "forcing your hands" to destroy a peaceful race, I'm sure."
-
Mar's grin seems to become wider the longer she rants, and his...unnatural...t eeth are clearly visible and quite real, apparently. "Oh dear, did I make you upset?" he states, crossing his legs and seeming more at ease from her rage. And the fact is, he was---- although in a mortal form such...demonstratio ns provided little energy, he still associated them with loosening stress on himself.
"I never once, in our little conversation, said that my way was better," stated Mar, taking another sip of his wine. "In fact it tends to be worse, for everyone---offering people the right to make their own decisions opens up the door for them to make terrible mistakes. These mistakes have cost that race more pain and suffering than a Yeerk has ever faced, except perhaps in their most brutal form of death."
"There can be no consolation between you Yeerks and the human race, at least not with all of them," states Mar carefully. "Their religions, their societies, everything----all are obsessed with Will and what their own Wills contribute to and produce. When freedom is not their most prized attribute, their ability to build upon and support their own kin with that Will is. I won't deny that your species has its own right to self-determination, to potential, to success...and that that right demands the assumption of the bodies of others. What I am wondering is...."
Mar examines her expression as if searching for something of interest to him. "....if your race has already shown itself willing to pay the price required for its own freedom, even in blood...why does the lady doth protest so much when I point that out? I'm all for such a quest, when it is honest with what it truly is."
-
Haviss frowns at Rathien. "We needed hosts," he says. "Sometimes sacrifices must be made. We would have taken them in a manner that didn't destroy most of their people, but the Andalites interfered." He runs a hand through his straight, brown hair. "And yes, we neeed weapons. But only because we were beginning to understand just how dangerous of a place the galaxy was. If we had wandered into it armed with nothing but Gedds we would be back on a quarantined Homeworld, swimming around in our pools asking one another what went wrong."
He glances at Mar, rolling his eyes a little. "Your human will is irrelevant," he says flatly, clearly of the opinion that Mar is fully human, thanks to his scanner. "You cannot even function as one society. The blood we spill is minimized as much as possible, but if there's a human standing between us and progress? That is the human's own foolishness."
-
Elriss smirks at Ike, "I don't recall saying anything at all about voluntary hosts. You're delusional if you expect us to subsist on those tiny numbers. Didn't you just say that most find it abhorrent? Most humans will not truly grasp what we can offer them until we've taken every last one of you. In this case... how do you humans say it?" She grins. It's not a nice grin. "It's better to ask forgiveness than permission."
She frowns at Rathien. Shouldn't he, rightfully, be on her side here? He's worked for the Light, for the Empire, she knows. What game is he playing?
She nods at what Haviss is saying, "The Hork-Bajir were suitable. The fact that they could also serve as weapons was just a happy accident." She glares at Rathien, "The Hork-Bajir are far better off with us as allies. It's been the same on every planet in this war. We improve. We defend. The Andalites destroy."
When Mar speaks, Elriss feels her anger building again. He's baiting her, she can tell, but damned if it isn't working. She again finds herself nodding in agreement with Haviss's words. "Don't mistake my defense of my people's actions for an aversion to violence. We will defend ourselves. I will do whatever it takes to make sure my people have the lives they deserve." She leans closer to him, her voice becoming a growl, "If you think we're going to just lie back and let a bunch of arrogant blue grass-eating bastards keep us confined to pools so that they can continue to feel like they own the galaxy, you've got another thing coming."
-
"This goes back to what I stated earlier that it is not the responsibility of other species to ensure that you have as many hosts as you wish." Ike said, looking at both Elriss and haviss. "It is not our fault that God made your people how they are. If you try to take people by force, then you won't find much sympathy. You cannot claim any reasons but selfishness if you make your need for hosts an ultimatum, as opposed to a request."
-
When one of the individuals mentioned that Larry seemed in excellent health for defeating several men it caused the memories to resurface and he became lost in all of the carnage. Larry eventually shook himself out of it and said towards the man. "I defeated more than just men, I slayed demonic creatures of incredible power. The Prime Evil Lords were the most powerful demons to ever escape the Lands of Hell and their defeat has now allowed the people of Sanctuary to live in a time of peace that is unfortunatly marred by the task of rebuilding and recovering." The man in black leather takes a large drink of mead and starts petting his Raven.
-
"You think I'm human, do you?" states Mar, glancing at the other Yeerk with a bemused expression. "I suppose that's fine. I'm human enough now, and I am a most ancient defender of their free Will. I have helped them to divide themselves and suffer and die all they please. From their pain is produced the emotions that sustain me, and a most lovely beauty."
"As for the Andalites...." Mar frowns. He seems conflicted. "....I knew one. A...paladin, a War-Prince named Ossanlin. Friend of Yeerks, Andalites, and humans alike....terribly interesting fellow. They are as you say, but they are many other things as well. I am not against either your race's efforts or theirs, regardless of whatever seems to be getting your panties up in a knot. I simply refuse to lie in the Bar."
The stranger then speaks, with the bird. Odd fellow---and he's saying the men he killed were Highest? Mar turns to him and says, "What are you doing here then, with your country broken apart? In times of trouble, your kind are needed where they are."
-
Rathien laughs again, shaking his head. "I thought members of the Light were smart enough not to buy into their own lies and propaganda." He chuckles. "Don't get me wrong, your massive war affords me a great deal of...entertainment. ..and I really don't care who wins. But I do believe in giving credit where it's due...and I must say, at least the Andalites of Sector Seven are smart enough not to buy into the pile of steaming dung that they feed to their "People." I've met some uncannily ruthless Andalites in SS...cold, manipulative, unashamed, and completely aware and understanding of the lies they were using to control their people. You've lost your so-called Light a great deal of my respect." He grins and chuckles again. "But logic doesn't matter to people as blind as yourself, does it? So perhaps we should speak of something else, hmm?" He takes another sip from his goblet.
-
"You are human enough," Haviss says in response to Mar, frowning a little. He turns his attention to Ike. "I don't know anything about your god, but Yeerks evolved to infest other species. We evolved to take advantage of the abilities of others. We are doing what we were born to do. If you must look at it from a primitive religious context, we are doing what we were destined to do. And Elriss is right, we are improving the lives of the creatures we take. For the most part."
<<You are so ****ing full of ****,>> his host says lowly, speaking for the first time. Haviss' smile grows ever so slightly in response. "Even if they do not realize it."
-
Ike glanced at Mar after his comment, giving him another once over, as if seeing him differently. His expression doesn't really change, though at the moment he's not very happy with where this conversation is going.
"Don't you see you're heading down a bad road? You have the right to expand as a civilization. The Andalites tried to restrict you, because they were afraid your people would do the very thing you wound up doing. So now they're motivated to stop you, and to defend from them, you have to take whatever hosts you can take. That just makes them fight harder, and the cycle goes on until you destroy yourselves with senseless conflict."
"You're a Human controller. You know that as violent as our people can be, many Humans will rally behind the cause of the weak and trodden upon. Sure, some still wouldn't care for you, but if you came requesting help instead of as conquerers, I think you would find many Humans willing to side with you. I doubt that you're really going to win this war. You need to change gears if you're going to survive as a free people, and you deserve to."
"I'm not saying don't take hosts. I'm just saying don't take them by force, and instead of kidnapping people who don't want a Yeerk in their head, just ask them for help. I think it's safe to assume you probably hadn't done that because I know my people. We love to fight, and we love a good underdog story. If you are open about your needs, and give people the choice, you may find a hundred, or thousand plus people to be willing to take you in, and you'd find millions willing to go blue deer hunting for you."
"You made a deal with one species. Why not do that with every species?"
-
Haviss' eyebrows inch higher up his forehead as Ike speaks. "You have got to be kidding," he says, laughing flatly. "We don't make deals with them because they don't want deals made. Do you honestly think that voluntary humans alone would be able to sustain our population?" His lips twist into a smirk. "And my people are winning the war. There are thousands, of human-Controllers on Earth and no one knows the difference. By the time they know what is happening it will be too late and they will be ours."
He backs off a little then, a small smile replacing his fervent expression, "Of course, the Empire has many faults of its own. It's a broken, tiresome government that spews out more propaganda than the entirety of humanity's governments put together. But such things can be useful, at times."
-
"I don't know how many Yeerks there are, and I have not stated or implied that I think there are enough voluntaries for everyone. At least not in the beginning, and certainly not if you make in an ultimatum. I am saying, though, that if given the choice, people who don't want to be infested will still fight for your freedoms. You don't have to be a member of a group to sympathize with the group."
"I don't know how it's going where you're from, but I really wouldn't bet on you being able to sustain yourselves this way. Though who knows? Maybe you will win. Though if you can't figure out a way to get a bunch of Humans to rally behind a worthy banner, I'd say your chances aren't very good. It is not hard to get people to fight for a cause they can relate to. Not being humanoid is a speed bump. Not a blockade. You are not trying."
-
"We do not need the humans to fight for us," Haviss says, snorting. "We can use the humans to fight for ourselves. Why waste time convincing people to fight for us when we could easily infest them and do it ourselves? I don't think you understand just how complete Yeerk control is. My host still fights for his freedom, on occasion. But no matter how hard he tries he cannot so much as blink an eye without my permission. It is far less tedious to take the hosts we need rather than barter for them."
-
"Wouldn't it be nice if he didn't? Why would you want prisoners when you can have soldiers? You're wasting time trying to slowly infiltrate Earth just so you can spend resources keeping involuntary hosts in line when you could be making allies. You have personnel trying to hold people hostage when they could be protecting against the enemies you already have. So you have thousands of hosts. Whoopdie frikkin' do. How long did it take to get them? How long will it take to get enough hosts to be more than a drop in the bucket of what you need?"
"In war, you need resources as quickly and efficiently as possible. In your case the resource is hosts. Why do you think that what you're doing is the most efficient way of gaining them?"
Ike wasn't sure if he'd actually be able to reason with Haviss, but negotiation was probably better than just trying to rescue these involuntary Humans. Especially if Haviss or Elriss actually had the power to make changes in the Empire.
-
Mar listened carefully to the exchange between Ike and the Imperial. Their conversation was interesting----what Ike was proposing was very similar to what his Precious' Peace Movement had been implying for some time. However, it was almost certain not to work with the Empire situated as it was. Oppression was built into the very code of the bureaucracy there, and he knew from---- Mar rubbed his forehead in confusion, a train of thought passing through his head and then stinging as it left. What had he known, exactly? Didn't matter.
"You speak very pragmatically for a Christian," states Mar, glancing at Ike with an odd look in his eyes. There was something not entirely right about this one, and he'd need time to determine exactly what. He did not like it. "It could work, were the Empire not as it is and the Yeerk population smaller. The Peace Movement thinks something along those lines, boy. It does not often get them very far. No matter the race, the easier choice is usually the one most wicked."
The reasons as to that last bit of information perplexed him. After all, he had very little power over Myitt's region.
-
"Everyone has their own interpretation of what God wants from us. The only thing we really have is a book that was started thousands of years ago, and edited over time, and our interpretation of signs that may ot may not come from the Lord." Ike said.
"Haviss said every Yeerk has the opportunity to rise through the ranks, but is this only if they conform to a certain set of beliefs?" He asked this question more to Mar than to Haviss.
-
Haviss' dark eyebrows raise. "Your god is nothing to me," he says flatly. "Why should a human book dictate how a Yeerk lives? I do not have the time to entertain fairy tales."
He glances at Mar. "The Peace Movement is full of a bunch of hippies who have gone so soft over their hosts they practically want to be human. At least the Rebellion shows initiative and is willing to put up a fight. The Empire could dismantle the Peace Movement and barely expend a single resource."
-
"I'm not trying to convert you to my religion, though that would be nice. We're talking about your people here, so answer my question."
-
Mar smiles slightly at Haviss. "Perhaps I am wrong about which is which, then. That does not surprise me---- being myself out of the conflict, all the names and ranks sound the same. The universe that I spend the most time in is one with no Yeerks, nor Andalites at all. As for calling tales of gods and men fairy tales...perhaps, in the details. Ways that human beings explain a baffling world. You'll find, however, that many of the actual encounters were real enough---- Higher aliens conferring with primitives on the borders between life and death."
"I do have a few investments in the conflict, however," says Mar with a nod of sorts as he raps his fingers on the Bar's surface. "Several of the Rebellion members and I have a bit of past history, as well as the War-Prince Ossanlin....and something...else that's slipped my mind. So I keep on with this coming back."
-
Haviss scowls a little at Ike. "Those who care to go through the ridiculous hoops that lead to a Sub-Visser or a Visser rank do have to follow certain protocol, yes," he says. "And most of them do share a similar belief system regarding the war, to varying degrees. Some favor open war, others infiltration. But all of them, so far as I know, favor the expansion of the Yeerk Empire. Otherwise what is the point of attempting to be one of the leading forces in it?"
He blinks at Mar, the man's description of his own universe confusing him. He does pick up on part of his explanation as important though. "The Rebellion," he muses, "may be useful to me. Do you have means of contacting any of them?"
-
"You don't have to make enemies of everyone you meet in order to expand your empire. You're just going to wind up running out of steam and collapsing because you don't have anything to fall back on when something goes wrong. Which it will. You would think a species that needs other species to thrive would be more altruistic, even if a Yeerk in someone's head has complete control. So about my other questions. How exactly do you think it's more efficient to infiltrate and kidnap people instead of making allies? Or using weapons and spending time and resources on prisons?"
-
Haviss sighs. He is beginning to get a headache. Resigning himself to a potentially lengthy conversation he accepts the the free drink that the newcomer with the bird had bestowed upon all of the patrons and sits down at a table next to Ike. Not quite joining him, but remaining close enough to speak and allow Elriss and others to hear him.
"Diplomacy takes time," he says slowly, almost as if explaining to a child. "And, sometimes, just as many resources as war. A cage made out of a force field requires energy resources, yes, but little else. The weapons we have are plentiful and, due to our infiltration tactics on Earth, not even particularly necessary. There will be a good number of Yeerks who participate in the invasion of Earth while never lifting a weapon. Our methods on that planet are not particularly swift, no, but they are steady and require far fewer resources than open war or diplomacy. All we need is time, Kandrona, and human money. Which, it turns out, is easy to come by when you have the right people infested."
-
"I'm not sure how diplomacy could take more time or resources. How long did it take you to get your thousand hosts, and why do you think it would be quicker and less risky than being open and asking for help? Sooner of later the Andalites are going to come, blow your little masquerade out of the water, and all you'll have to show for it is a few more hosts and billions of new enemies."
-
"You certainly think highly of the Andalite military," Haviss says with a little snort of disdain. "They have already attempted to attack us in orbit over Earth. They failed miserably. The Andalites are an arrogant species and that very arrogance is why they will lose. They are stretched too thin to confront us, and they do not have the numbers to build a larger military."
He takes a sip of his beer, regarding Ike. Clearly not a politician, he decides. Though he isn't either. Not really. He just isn't an idiot. "As far as diplomacy is concerned, how exactly do you think your species would react to such an attempt? Humans treat anything different as a threat. Hell, humans treat people of a different skin color as a threat. For them to respond to us with anything other than loathing it would take ample time, and ample resources to assuage their paranoid trigger fingers. More than likely they would respond by declaring war themselves, and then where would we be?"
-
"I suppose I do, by a fashion," says Mar, remembering his way of connecting Myitt's mind with his own. "However, you'd have to come into my neck of the woods for me to do that, and I highly doubt that you trust a complete stranger enough to allow for such jaunts. Granted you could literally come into me and find out, but in that case your host doesn't trust you."
-
"I don't know much about the Andalite military, but I know it existed before your people had anything better than Gedds. You've had what, a few decades to work with stolen technology, while the Andalites have maybe had a century or more? Thin or not, there's something to be said about experience, and training that has passed through generations."
"Come on. Have you taken a cursory look at some of the creatures on the endangered species list? You know we sexualized vampires? Honestly the biggest hurdle to making an alliance is that you didn't try it first, and that can probably be gotten over by placing the blame on other people. Not everyone is a self serving racist or speciesist. You have six or seven billion people. You need maybe a few million to help you out? Some of which will be voluntary hosts despite how you currently treat them, and more if you treat them as equals. This should not be difficult."
-
Elriss blinks and stares at Rathien for a moment, confused. "Sector Seven?" She laughs, "You're comparing us to that bunch of incompetents?" She smiles condescendingly at him, "Darlin', I know they're the supposed to be best the Andalites have to offer, but I hardly think they qualify as our equivalent. It's precisely Sector Seven's manipulativeness that's made them so..." she pauses, searching for a word, "...useful to us." She smirks, "And belief in one's cause isn't a weakness." She waves her empty glass at the bartender, who takes the hint and sets a second redin in front of her. "That's the biggest difference between us and them," she says, taking a sip, "We have no need to spread lies to our own people. So, what was it you wanted to discuss instead?"
She listens, sipping her drink, as the argument between Ike and Haviss grows more heated. This Mar... he's saying things that don't make sense. Things that send a shiver down Rose's spine. For the most part, she finds herself agreeing with Haviss... except for his apparent respect for the Yeerk Rebellion. Willing to actually fight for their cause, sure, but still murdering, deluded traitors, the lot of them.
Finally, she laughs and turns to Ike, "Our way keeps the humans in the dark. It avoids drawing Andalite attention. It keeps resource use low so that our fleet is free to engage the Andalites elsewhere. Although..." she grins. It's not a nice grin. "We have found it is best to give the humans a choice. Either fight us in their own minds or accept us voluntarily. Granted, not all of you are given that choice. Still, it's not a matter of whether your people retain their free will, it's just a matter of how much."
"You're giving your species too much credit if you think they'd accept it if we just came out in the open and asked for people to volunteer their bodies." She smiles at Ike, more warmly this time, "You're a pretty open-minded type, but most of you are stupid, panicky herd animals, and if you think someone could volunteer to host one of us and then not be discriminated against by the rest of your people, you've got another thing coming. You humans resist change, by force if necessary. You always have."
"It's simple, really. We need hosts. More hosts than would volunteer if we asked. We don't like violence. It draws attention, and Yeerks and hosts can die in the process." She looks into his eyes and smirks, "And honey, if aliens suddenly appeared asking for people to volunteer their bodies, you can sure bet there'd be violence. Life is better for the hosts we do take, the species we do take. Someday, when we've taken all of the humans, they'll begin to realize that." She smirks and imitates his tone, "This should not be difficult."
She draws a breath as an analogy occurs to her, "Do you have children, Mr. Ike?" Without waiting for an answer, she continues, "Left to their own devices, children will eat glue and jump bikes and wander into traffic and wind up hurt or brain-damaged or crippled or dead. Humanity is just children. Left to your own devices, you will kill each other and decimate your planet's resources until you're too weak or sick or hurt to survive." She takes another swig of redin, swaying slightly. "But parents don't let children eat glue and break bones and walk in front of cars. You guide your children until they're old enough to know better. Even if the children kick and scream and cry, you'll do what's best for them."
Her nasty grin returns, "Humanity is just a child. The Empire is only helping you to grow up."
-
"You seem insistent that the only people who would be willing to fight for you are people also willing to become hosts. That's just not true. Also if anyone is going to try to guide a galaxy's worth of species into enlightenment, it isn't going to be another mortal, flawed, species. As good as you think your kind is, it isn't any more perfect than anyone else. Only The One God is, and I assure you, wholeheartedly, that I have seen Him."
"I don't suppose you would need to lie to your kind if they would quickly starve to death if they didn't follow. The Andalites, I think, work under the assumption that if their people really saw what they were doing, they would quickly revolt. On the other hand, our Human government can do quite corrupt things without the population quickly turning on it."
"I just don't see your way of 'follow whether you want to or not' as very much more enlightened. Religion has tried that tactic too. It doesn't work very well."
"On a slightly different subject, why exactly is your control over a body so absolute? How do you go through life with someone yelling at you all the time, and unable to shut them up? Americans call pumping sound into a prison cell constantly over a long period of time a form of torture."
-
Haviss smirks at Ike's last question. "Because eventually, my human friend, they stop yelling," he says. "As Elriss so eloquently stated, they come to us kicking and screaming. But eventually they learn that we know what is best for them. They learn that their own thoughts and desires are flawed. And they cease their useless fight for control."
His grin widens slightly. "Perhaps you could find out for yourself, hm? I might not be able to bring an Imperial armada to this place -- nor would I want to -- but a single Yeerk could be managed, if you were interested in the experience."
-
"The Spirit of the Lord guides and protects me." Ike said, picking up his medallion again, that always hangs around his neck. To be honest, it was a bit more pleasant than the cross. Sometimes he wondered why the cross became the symbol of Christianity, when it was the fact that He rose again that was important. Not His death itsself. "I'm up for the challenge, but let it be you. For every moment you spend in me, I ask that your host is a free person. If life with you is truly better, perhaps he will come to the conclusion of his own will, without your direct influence."
-
Mar listens to the conversation between the Yeerk and the Christian carefully. He is aware that the Yeerk has a distaste for his snide comments, but how can he help himself? The morality of slavery, being argued by fundamentalists in front of him! The whole thing has a delicious air of irony that causes him to grin a bit, although that might be the effect of the drink upon his body. He decides not to summon another, for the moment. However, for whatever reason, Ike's continual references to his Father bother him greatly. A life spent on false pretenses was no part of the Game at all.
"Ike, I hate to repeat myself..." says Mar, turning his head to look at Ike with a bit apprehension in his voice. "But the thing is...I have been searching for a way to meet with the person you say you met for a very long time. If there were such an easy way from here that you might literally bump into a part of his Mass, I would have found it by now."
-
Elriss finishes off her second redin in as many minutes and slams the empty glass down on the counter. She motions to the bartender for another, noticeably swaying now. The bartender raises an eyebrow at her, but provides the drink nonetheless.
She swirls the contents in the glass and laughs in response to Ike, "I know you humans value free will above life itself and all that, but there are more important things than being able to choose whether to watch football or porno. If you knew how we have to go through life without hosts... you'd understand." She's tearing up again, "Most of your people need a little prodding to see things our way, and that takes time. Asking our hosts to see things our way without warning can be a bit of a shock."
She sets her glass down and stares, contemplatively, into the murky liquid. "Our people are intelligent, yet blind and weak. We're helpless in our own bodies, but we've been gifted with the ability to make use of the bodies of others. I don't want to hear anything about a god that thinks we should ignore our gifts and live our lives unfulfilled."
When Mar speaks, she again turns towards him, wondering what, exactly, he's talking about. Any other time, she'd put him down as a crazy person and leave it at that, but here, she's realizing, nothing is as it seems. Who... or what... is he?
-
"Don't be foolish, I'm not leaving my host," Haviss says, scoffing at the idea. "I need him for my current assignment. You would be relatively useless to me."
His attention turns to the increasingly drunk Elriss and he frowns, recognizing the vague scent of fumes. "Are you drinking redin?" he asks in amazement. "By the Kandrona, put that glass down. Another one will render your host unconscious for a week. Are you completely mad?"
-
"Not the curious type who flirts with brief experiments, are you?" says Mar to Haviss. "You'll find that leaving this place is always a tad problematic, whatever other engagements you're involved in. I would be...interested to see what being infested would be like. It's theoretically possible."
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Haviss' eyebrows shoot up. "Two volunteers? Well, this is a strange place indeed," he says, leaning back in his chair, considering. "As I said, I am not in a position to leave my host. I am attempting to recover someone who is biologically linked to him. Losing his form would make my task far more difficult." His shoulders lift in a shrug. "Unless there were some way to assure he was returned to me, I am afraid your experiment will have to wait until I am able to bring some of my brothers to this place."
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"I suppose we're at an impasse in what we believe would be better. I hope this isn't offensive, but I'm curious why you don't select nonsentient animals. Gorillas, for instance. Unless there would be a language problem, like having difficulties speaking English or galard. Though I suppose you believe as long as something works, there isn't much motivation to change. Unless something happens to make it exceedingly difficult, your people will just keep maintaining the status quo."
"Haviss, I suppose I don't have a rebuttal if you need that person for a mission. You're free to bring one of your people, but I will need some extra incentive to do this. Unless Elriss wants to take me up on the same offer."
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"It is likely that they are afraid that entering the mind of a non-sentient animal would diminish their own mental capacity while hosting," Mar says, in a manner that suggests he does not know and is merely guessing. "Or perhaps they seek an equal standing with other sentient races and entering a non-sentient host would diminish them. But, not being myself a Yeerk, I cannot be certain."
-
"Not to mention the advantages of adding new technologies and scientific theories to our knowledge base," Haviss says. "Humans may not have Z-space capabilities, but they are intelligent and their minds are useful in the way an ape would not be." His nose wrinkles. "Besides, I like to think we have more dignity than that."
-
"I suppose having Humans would allow you to gain information on them better." Ike said. "I'd also hate to hear your people be called animals if you stuck to taking them. People often associate appearance with capability, even though we have all kinds of stories about not judging a book by its cover."
"Also Mar I forgot to say, but I suppose when God says "Have no other Gods before me", He might have been implying that there are other Gods. I was raised to interpret as no other gods existing, but honsestly I don't think the Old testament says anything about Yaweh being the only God there is. I guess maybe I found...something else, but He said he was The One, and the Highest of Highest. He seems a lot like our God as well."
-
"Perhaps," says Mar to Ike, biting his lip. Something appears to unsettling the normally calm and arrogant man, as if he has past history with the religion. Which to some extent is the case....and to some extent is not. "It is not my business to interfere with you in this Bar, and not my time."
He could sense a climate in the air around the boy, something far more than spiritual protection. The apprehension weighed his body down. A wavering something, like the Mass connected distantly to his own body. What was that? Without a closer investigation, he could not quite make it out. He doubted it would want him to take a closer look just yet.
-
"Not completely mad," Elriss tells Haviss with what she thinks is a smirk. She swirls her third glass again, considering, then waves it at the bartender. "Hey, handsome, any chance you give to-go cups in this little hole?" She frowns at the small puddle of redin on the counter in front of her as the bartender sets a clear, plastic cup with a lid and a straw down in front of her. She shakes her head. Maybe that was a little too much, too fast. She's certainly starting to feel it.
"Someone's not a believer in animal rights," she says mockingly to Ike. "Hon, we need hosts that can help us get more hosts. What are there, like a thousand gorillas in the world? Do you know how many Yeerks we have to host? And then you've gotta think about how much more humans can do than gorillas. Humans already have so much. Gorillas have some patches of jungle or whatever. What would we do then, sit in the jungle and eat leaves while the Andalites and the humans keep getting better and better at their technology thing? Why would we start from scratch when the humans have so much already? My people are intelligent enough to be great, to walk through the stars, and you think we're going to settle for dumb creatures with nothing better to do than poop in their hands?" She punctuates her question with a sharp "Ha!" before continuing. "He gets it," she says, pointing at Mar.
"I know you all have your cute little 'gods' and stuff," she says, waving a hand at Mar and Ike, "but where's mine? Where's the one that's going to lead my people to salvation?" She stares at the countertop as she contemplates what she's just said. "We Yeerks have only each other," she concludes quietly.
-
Ike was obviously not getting anywhere with these Yeerks, so he just leaned back and drank his scotch. The only thing that would stop these Yeerks is if they screwed up and lost the war, and after that they may go extinct because the only allies they had were under the effects of stockholm syndrome. At least he gave it his best shot.
-
Haviss snorts a little. "I think you may have silenced the young preacher," he says to Elriss, ****ing an eyebrow at her. His gaze drifts to her to-go cup of redin. A small smile remaining in place he uses one foot to nudge the chair across from him out away from the table. "Have a seat, Elriss. I am interested in hearing about the happenings of the Empire in your particular universe -- and if seeing if we are from the same one or not. Your next redin is on me, if you make it that far."
He pulls up his comm link and checks it briefly, setting it on the table within easy reach as he waits to see whether or not Elriss will take him up on the offer. No new messages. No new leads. His friendly smile grows ever so slightly more strained.
-
"Don' mind if I do," Elriss says smugly, smirking at Ike as she grabs her drink and steps over to Haviss's table.
She slides into her chair and makes a futile attempt to brush some of the dirt from her uniform. "I really shun't stay long," she slurs, then frowns. She has definitely had too much redin. She takes another sip. It tastes even better through a straw.
"I have important business," she states proudly, and quite loudly. "There're always rebels to deal with, and the job always seems to fall to me."
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Ike rolls his eyes at Elriss' smirk, and turns his attention back to Mar. "You are not totally as you seem. You say you've been looking for god for a while, and haven't found him. I may be able to call on my Lord, whoever He may truly be, if I can get some things together. I'm afraid it isn't always as easy as putting your hands together and bowing your head."
-
"Rebels?" Haviss inquires politely, deliberately ignoring her blatant drunkenness. "That sounds like a bit of a messy job. I am glad the Empire has such, erh, reliable resources such as yourself." He lifts his pint and takes a small sip. "Would you be willing to tell me more about this...Light...you keep mentioning? Something tells me you are not referring to a Kandrona generator." He gives her a pleasant smile, eyebrows raising inquisitively.
-
Mar himself was getting a bit tipsy, although his tolerance for the moment remained intact. He glanced at Ike, wondering how best to phrase the issue. Or if there was a point to doing so among such a person. "Yes, yes. I...I have, and I have seen a great many Highest along the way. None of them were the Father, Ike---although at least one has the same alignment as myself." Mar smiled slightly and then let it go.
"I don't think even if you could contact Him that we would be able to talk, or that He would want to talk to me," says Mar with a hint of contempt, one of his fingers stirring the wine glass. "We had a parting of the ways long ago, and I have been wandering ever since. Occasionally I try to make amends, but He does not care what I think."
Mar stops for a moment, something occurring to him. "Tell me...however did a Yeerk-free human come across this Bar?"
-
"You had a falling out..." Ike said. If Mar was talking about Yahweh...and he had a falling out... "I don't suppose you're..." The thought struck him as funny. Maybe partly because of the scotch. "I mean it almost sounds like you're, you know, the other guy."
"As far as getting here, I just flew my ship for a nice ride, started yeaning for some good old Earth scotch, and soon enough I found this little planetoid. Remember, in my timeline Humans have figured out true space flight. We pretty much had to, since our population was getting out of control and people largely didn't like the idea of governments deciding how many kids someone could have, or if they should have kids at all."
"It's not like this place is on one of our star charts. I can't say that I set out to find the fabled Space Bar. I just kind of...did."
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Mar laughed, almost a giggle. Uh oh. Yes, the drink was getting to his mind. "That's one way of putting it," he said rather casually. "From what I remember it does not go into any detail, and there are some inaccuracies....but I am a mortal shard of the entity that's being referred to, yes. Though there are more..."other guys"...than you'd imagine, Ike. The universe is a complicated place."
"As to your entry....I suppose that might be how most arrive," stated Mar, putting his hand on his chin. "An outcast, or loner, or rebel, thinks about how much they'd kill for a good drink...and ends up here, as if the Bartender Himself had sent them an invitation. Although you're a bit interesting, and so are the Imperials--- most here are more...washed-up outliers than Highest thralls or bigoted masters of the galaxy."
-
"I may need something stronger." Ike said quietly to himself. "I guess you could say it's funny how both Yeerks and Andalites can see themselves as the best thing in the universe." He said, leaning towards Mar conspiratorially, not trying to make himself heard by the Yeerks, though after his conversation he was less inclined to try his darndest not to offend them. The scotch was likely helping too. "I forgot to ask if they've attempted to develop their own hosts, but that would probably lead right back to their lack of desire for change when the status quo is still working."
"Okay, so you are kind of a fallen angel, more or less. I guess I should consider you evil incarnate, and take what you say with a handful of salt, but I have a feeling that something resides in my soul that will protect me. Tell me why you came and stayed."
-
"I came because...." Mar smiles, the memory of his own naivete amusing him. "...because I was following the trail of someone I knew. I suppose she's someone I have known a long time, since I left. I have met her in multiple places and times. To a Highest, time and space seem less solid and much less important. I did not want her to forget me, that time--- I wanted to be more than a phantasm and a dream to her. Yet in the end, temporary body or not, that is all I was. I stayed..."
Mar glances at the table, tracing his hands around his wine glass. He seems to be debating whether he wants to finish it. "...I stayed because this Bar follows no Rules and knows no creed. Because no one in the universe closest to here knows who I am, and that is a relief. I have been doing this so long that I am tired, wasted from the weight of my own actions. Here...I can be anyone I want, do anything I want, be...free."
"Sometimes I don't want to go back," he states with a shrug. "But I have obligations to fulfill, eventually---and the rest of me will need my energy."
-
"This is a very interesting place. I don't think I could understand having two separate parts of myself, and worrying that the greater part will force my lesser part back into me. I guess if that happens, it may be akin to dying? At least, this part of you might be nothing more than a memory that the greater you would have little interest in?"
"I'm not sure I could help with that. Still, we mortals have often come to terms with our finite lives. Even people who don't believe in an afterlife."
-
"That's exactly what it's like," Mar says with a look that seems lonely, sad. "I only exist so long as he comes here, and when I am gone I am gone. But..." Mar immediately clears the thought process and smiles a bit at Ike, taking another sip of his drink. "....that's hardly anyone's concern. I came here to drink and to speak among the rebels. And perhaps you, yes."
"This place is interesting," mutters Mar, glancing back at the Bartender. The man was always there, always polishing, never saying a word and taking tabs that could include human lives. "That man, over there, never ages and never changes. This building can heal itself from any attack. The travelers range from Imperials to humans from other worlds to beings that defy natural law. Time passes in a way that makes little sense, and liars speak true."
Mar gestures around him. "....do you regret meeting your God and getting involved with all this, or are you glad you left your world? Enlightenment is never as entertaining as it sounds."
-
"Well here's to having a good time while we're alive." Ike said, raising his glass.
"I can't say I regret meeting my God. I mean, I don't really think about my life before, much. I get this feeling that it's not really important, or worth thinking about. I found God, entered a state of perpetual bliss, and was taken out so I might assimilate more people. I mean convert people. Why did I say...assimilate?" Ike looked confused, as though he was trying to think it over, now that Mar had brought up the subject, but his body kind of froze. Then after a moment it was gone. "It's not really important, or worth thinking about." He said in a tone like someone repeating what another person said.
"I look forward to seeing what else can happen at this bar." He said, sounding more like himself.
-
"Rebels always cause a mess. Vissers should learn to keep their people in check," Elriss agrees. " And the Light... The Light is the future of the Empire," she says proudly, leaning closer to Haviss and smiling. "New command structure, new freedoms, new support from the Council. So much more efficient than the Vissers. Faster. Quieter. We don' take orders from the Vissers. We're separate, answerable only to the Council itself. And," she leans closer still and drops her voice to what she mistakenly believes to be a whisper, "I'm second in command now." She grins, sits back, and takes a sip of redin. "Shhh."
-
Haviss' eyebrows raise, and his head tilts a little in interest. "The Council is supporting a change in command structure?" he asks, lowering his voice a little despite the fact that they are the only two Imperials in the room. He sits forward, elbows resting on the table as he regards Elriss. "How long has this been going on? Why hasn't it been brought forth to the Empire as a whole?"
-
Elriss's brow furrows. "Well, they're not supporting the full change yet," she admits. "We're the es... experiment. I'm sure the Council already sees how much better we are than the Vissers." She lowers her voice as well and leans closer, "I think they're just waitin' for the right opportunity to make the change. Or maybe they need us to do just one more mission," she holds up a finger in demonstration, "to prove that we're the best for sure."
-
Haviss smiles a little, looking amused. "It sounds as if you're a part of a rebel group of your own, Elriss, albeit a bit different from the rebels I was referring to earlier." He settles back a bit, sipping his beer and considering his next question carefully. "So, this Light...what sort of assignments have you received in the past? What does the Council ask you to do?"
-
Elriss shakes her head, "Nope, we're not rebels. We might be the most non-rebels in the whole Empire!" She giggles a little at her joke.
"Oh, they make us do everything," says Elriss, waving a hand in the air. She adopts a mocking tone "Protect this Council member on a trip, keep an eye on this Sub-Visser, assassinate this Yeerk, spy on the Andalites, report on this planet, spread this rumor, make sure this location is safe for this Council member, yadda yadda yadda." She blinks, staring at her now half-full plastic cup of redin and wonders vaguely if she might be talking just a little too much.
"So what about you, darlin'?" she asks, looking at Haviss with a bleary attempt at her flirtatious smile. "Which Visser you under? How'd you end up here?"
-
Haviss rubs at his jawline with a thumb, wondering whether he should tell Elriss the full truth or not. His assignment was hardly a secret, but it was also not particularly flattering. On the other hand, if she had as much power as she claimed, she might be able to provide a useful lead.
"I work under several Vissers and Sub-Vissers," he finally says slowly. "I'm in charge of a pool ship's interrogation ward. I keep the interrogators happy and the prisoners in check, while dealing with any bottom-feeding turelek that is looking to collect on a bounty." He snorts a little, making clear his opinion of the bounty hunters that kept his operations in business. "At least, I used to."
Leaning back a little he lifts his pint glass, though he does not sip it, considering the amber colored liquid within. "I have...misplaced... one of the prisoners being kept at my facility. Usually we would just issue a gashad and wait for someone to collect, but...well, this prisoner is a bit of a special circumstance, and a Sub-Visser went missing shortly after she did. Since it is such a high profile case, I am handling it personally." He finally lifts the glass to his lips, taking a small sip. "Of course it has not been going very well, which is why I am still wandering space after two years."
-
Elriss's reaction to Haviss's mention of tureleks mirrors Haviss's own. She snorts and glances back towards Rathien.
She stares at Haviss, an expression of surprise eventually finding its way to her features. "Tha' must be some prisoner," she says. "You sure they're still alive?" She manages a look of anger, "I hate having to deal with things myself. 's the reason I'm all..." she waves a hand, indicating her messy uniform.
-
"No, not sure at all," Haviss admits with a bit of a grimace. "But if she is alive, I need her, and if she is dead, I need proof of it. The best I can figure she is hiding out with the Andalites, though the Yeerk rebels are a possibility I had not considered. Neither are particularly easy to find." He frowns a little at the state of Elriss. "What sort of dealings leave you looking as if you just ran a marathon through the woods?"
-
Gene lies slumped over the warped and scratched wooden table, slouched in an equally worn and torn booth made of red cracked leather.
He wakes with a start, sitting up and staring around, brushing his disheveled, curly brown hair out of his pale face. His angular features are crowded out by wide brown eyes, bloodshot from uncomfortable and drunken sleep.
"Oh, ****," he breathes, flexing and unflexing the hand he'd been sleeping on top of, which has fallen asleep. He blinks and rubs idly at his eyes. When he is adequately convinced that no one is going to attack him, he rubs at his sore neck, tapping up a holoscreen and writing a message in English that is likely unreadable from closer to the bar.
He stretches out his legs so his black sneakers rest on the seat opposite him, swiping away the holoscreen and giving the bar patrons another wary glance.
Something--or someone--he sees makes him blanch even paler.
<<What in God's name is Dan doing here?>> he whispers internally to Kellim, his Yeerk companion.
<<More appropriately, what is Haviss doing here?>> Kellim responds grimly, warily taking control and pressing a hand against the Dracon stuffed unceremoniously into Gene's jeans pocket.
<<Jeez, don't make eye contact, Kellim!>> Gene yelps. <<Do you want to end up in the hospital?>>
<<Do glares typically wound?>> Kellim murmurs with a chuckle. <<We'll be fine, Gene. Unless he starts swinging. Then I shoot, and we're still fine.>>
<<Not encouraging, Kellim. Not even a little bit,>> Gene grates.
-
Ike saw movement at a table, and noticed a man he had overlooked for some reason. "Was he there before?" he asked Mar, who seemed deep in thought. He waved the guy over. "Hey bud. Come join the crowd. If you have a hangover, I'll pay for a bit of the hair of the dog that bit you, as it were."
-
Gene's eyebrows raise.
<<Great,>> Gene himself mutters. <<Now we're attracting attention. Let's just go, please? Dom probably won't even see the damn message, if he kept on drinking the way he was.>> Underlying that thought was, Why the hell did he leave me in here with Dan, of all people?
<<Far be it for me to decline an opportunity to be social,>> Kellim responds, mulling over the idea of approaching the unknown man and his frilly companion. <<But I can't imagine why Dan and Haviss would be here. Are they on a mission, this quickly?>>
Outwardly he gives Ike a small wave, but doesn't move from his seat. "Perhaps water would be wiser," he calls.
-
Haviss looks up at the new voice, glancing at the curly-haired man in the booth. His eyes do a quick, customary sweep of him, then he turns back to Elriss, seemingly not finding him a threat. There is no sign of recognition on his face.
"I suppose that whatever you were doing was completed successfully?" he asks, draining his pint glass and setting it aside. He brushes absently at his shirt, almost as if the grime on Elriss' clothing might manifest itself on him. It does not, and he remains as neatly dressed as ever, in a plain blue button-down and jeans, having long ago foregone the Imperial uniform. The only sign of his allegiance is the holster around his waist, the leather stamped with the Imperial logo.
-
"Clean water, good bartender. In a clean glass." Normally Ike didn't have to elaborate on the cleanliness of the glass he wanted in bars, but the bartender had been wiping the same grimy glass this whole time without seeming to get anywhere. The man filled a glass wordlessly, and Ike brought over the water. "I don't want to seem weird or anything, but I've been here for a bit, and didn't notice you. How did you get here?"
-
Elriss laughs loudly, "A lot of it has to do with running a marathon through the woods." She shakes her head, "Not sussessful yet. Lost the bastard I was after and ended up here. He mus' be in the woods nearby, but I haven't seen him in hours." She again tries unsuccessfully to lower her voice, "We think he's got Peace Movement ties. Big lead, this guy. And gorgeous." She looks sullenly at her now nearly-empty plastic cup of redin. "I shouldn't have to run 'im down myself. Tha's what underlings are for. But 'e lost 'em good." She suddenly pounds the table, "But he won' get away from me!" she says passionately, looking around the bar, as if expecting whoever she's talking about to be sitting there. She notices the man alone at a table for the first time and frowns. How had she missed him before?
-
"No," states Mar, frowning at Ike. He had suddenly spotted the man as well, although he had had slightly more warning. Whatever power the Highest known as the Bartender used gave off a faint signature, which he recognized from the first time Ossanlin had almost perished. Although he wondered dimly if that was merely the bartender registering the existence of the new patron, and the man had come in some other way.
Mar got up from the stool and walked cautiously toward the man. He didn't....seem...dangero us, precisely. Merely confused. Mar held out his hand, putting on his best earnest smile. "Hello," he stated politely. "Might I inquire whence it is that you have come? My name is Mar."
-
Gene smiles distractedly at Ike, accepting the glass of water.
"Thanks, man," he says, still a little groggy. "Yeah, well, I fell asleep in a drunken stupor, not entirely the safest thing to do in a place like this." He rolls his eyes and takes a sip of water. "But there you go. I'm not used to being here, or being drunk."
He feels the eyes of the girl at the bar on him. And Haviss, he hadn't made so much as a salute in his direction. It was like the Yeerk didn't even recognize him.
<<Strange,>> Kellim remarks. <<We ran his induction. Besides, your hair is hard to forget.>> The internal thrill that is the equivalent of an emotional smirk is obvious.
And then another social stab. The well-dressed man...if it was indeed a man? Gene narrows his eyes at Mar, curiously.
"Hi, um," Gene says faintly, strangely hesitant to shake the thing's hand, but gripping Mar's fingers firmly nonetheless. He swallows. "I'm Gene. I came from..."
<<Careful,>> Kellim warns.
"...I, uh, came from the same place he did." Gene nods across the bar interior at Dan and Haviss, and giving Mar the same distracted smile he'd given Ike.
-
"Well so far we've been a pretty peaceful crowd, though some of us have different views about equality than others. My name is Ike. Nice to meet you."
-
"Nice to meet you, too, Ike," says Gene. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he hesitates before asking, "What do you mean?"
-
He sits down and leans towards the man. "See, those guys are controllers. Humans that have Yeerks in their heads. These Yeerks don't really treat hosts as equals. Not that all Yeerks act like that, but these two and the Empire they belong too are pretty stubborn about not wanting to change their ways unless they're forced to."
"Though I guess you migth be too. It's hard to tell just by looking, though there might be a way to spiritually sense something. I've never really tried it."
-
Gene blinks, following Ike's gaze towards the men, then staring back at Ike once more.
"Are you one of these people, too?" he asks without thinking. "A controller?"
-
"Nothing in me but the Spirit of the Lord." Ike said. "I've heard of Yeerks before this, but this is the first time I've encountered them. I haven't been here long. I wonder if this place has a refueling station anywhere."
-
Gene's light brown eyebrows shoot up. "Oh," he says faintly, settling back and glancing at Mar, then back across the bar's interior. He clears his throat and takes a sip of water, eyeing Ike over the edge of the glass. "I'm Jewish." He shrugs.
-
"Really?" Ike asked excitedly. "I was raised christian, but you know we all serve the same Man upstairs. After I left with a good chunk of the population to settle on another planet, I ran across someone I have thought was the God Almighty. This guy over here is doubtful, though." He said, pointing at Mar. "Still, it was something. He made me a prophet, gave me a medallion, an ability to perform small feats of magic, and sent me out to convert people."
-
Gene stares at Ike, unblinking, completely at a loss. He stares at Mar, as if the man--or creature--had some further explanation.
-
"I'm sorry if that was a bit much. You're still dealing with a hangover, buddy. So, what do you do for fun, huh? I like me some good old country music."
-
Mar shakes Gene's hand, grinning and then watching as Gene and Ike talk. "Ike here can perform a bit of magic, which is to say he can tamper with matter and energy," states Mar, in response to Gene's query. "Strangely he appears to be able to generate matter without sacrificing any of his own Mass in exchange, which breaks fundamental laws of physics. This..." Mar frowns. "....suggests he must be much bigger than he looks, or has a powerful friend."
Even the latter explanation bothered Mar, as he himself could not perform matter-shifting feats in the Bar. His "friend" would have to be inside the Bar with him, which made little sense to the Highest. "As for Ike's claim about having met God....that is...highly unlikely, in my opinion."
-
"If it didn't break the laws of physics, people would be able to explain it naturally. A good sign is something that can't just be explained away by something more mundane."
-
Haviss smiles, clearly amused. "No, certainly not if you are hunting him with such fervor," he says smoothly. He notices that Ike has left the table to go talk with the curly-haired man. All the better -- the human's offer to allow himself to be infested did not sit well with Haviss for some reason.
"Hm," Haviss murmurs, turning his attention back to Elriss. "It appears that both of us have lost someone we are looking for. Perhaps we could help one another?"
-
Gene relaxes slightly when Mar speaks.
<<Well, if he is an alien, he sounds vaguely human,>> he murmurs to Kellim.
<<You're saying I do not?>> Kellim replies airily.
<<Dude. He sounds like he's from Transylvania.>>
<<Maybe he is a vampire.>>
Gene blinks back into focus, shaking his head slightly. "I've never met anyone who could do much more than a parlor magic trick," he says, sounding wary rather than impressed, eyes flitting from Ike to Mar. "This place consistently amazes me."
He leans forward, gripping the condensating glass of water in both hands. "I never learned anything in any of my physics classes about being able generate matter or energy without conserving it somewhere. Then again, I am hungover, and my physics lessons are rusty."
<<Tell them I haven't heard of such a thing, either,>> Kellim prompts.
<<Are you crazy? Do we want everyone in here to know who and what we are?>> Gene hisses. <<It's bad enough this guy walks up to us going on about Yeerks. And Haviss is over there...why the hell doesn't he recognize us?>>
He smiles belatedly, forgetting his outward manners.
-
Elriss smiles at Haviss, then nods. "Now that's the best idea I've heard all night!" she says. She again leans close to Haviss, "What'da call yours? My guy's name is John Mastermier..." she frowns... "Havermaster?" She shakes her head, "His name is John." She nods, satisfied. "An' 'e might have Krissit 925 with 'im. We jus' don't know." She stares intently at him, as though that information is supposed to mean something.
-
"There are many things perhaps beyond us both," states Mar, glancing worriedly at Ike again. There was something wrong with the boy, but he could not place what. Whatever it was, it was good at hiding from him.
"As for the magic tricks..." Mar smirked. "....I can do a few of those. It seems in some places in the wide multiverse magic is commonplace, and in others it is a small miracle. The range is breathtaking, and you can see much of it in this Bar. Oh..."
Mar gestures to the bar stools and table itself. "....and if you need a drink, the man behind the counter will serve anything you'd like. Literally. You could probably obtain a brick with a slice of lemon wrapped around it."
-
"No thanks, I'm done with drinking for a while," Gene gripes politely, pressing a hand against his forehead, pushing up a mess of light brown curls as he does so. "Might I ask, uh, where you're from, Mr. Mar? You sound like you're from Europe."
-
Haviss considers. "The names are unfamiliar," he admits. "But I can look around. Perhaps my databases will unveil something useful that you may have overlooked." He smiles thinly. "As for me, I am looking for someone by the name of Terenia. She is a Yeerk, though she has no designation. A strange case. She disappeared in conjunction with Sub-Visser Twenty-Eight, Zorish Three-Eight-Two, about two years ago. Zorish's host is a human female by the name of Tamora. Terenia's host is an Andalite female by the name of Efaen."
He watches her expression, wondering if she has heard of the human-Yeerk girl who has successfully infested an Andalite.
-
"I did hide in Europe for a number of years, as a German prince in the Empire," Mar admits, putting his hand to his chin. "I took a host a few hundred years later in the same place, although he did not know it until the moment of his death. But I am not precisely..." Mar thinks again. He seems to be having trouble answering this question. "...from anywhere."
Mar sighs a bit. He looks defeated. "Yes, I'm well aware I sound mad. I've grown accustomed to being the Bar's madman, I suppose. I currently could be said to live in the city of Necrul, in a country called the Veil. What about you, young man?"
-
Ike couldn't help overhearing Elriss' conversation, as she tried and failed to keep her voice down. He wondered if there really was someone in the woods outside, possibly in need of help. "Guys? It seems Elriss is looking for someone who may or may not be here." He whispered. "Should we do something to help the person?"
-
<<A host?>> Kellim wonders. <<Surely this creature isn't a Yeerk. No Yeerk can live that long, not to mention no Yeerk has had a human host for as long as he claims.>>
<<Time is funny here, Kellim,>> Gene sighs. <<I really have no idea what we're dealing with. Best to be on our guard.>>
"Hey, we're all mad here, aren't we?" Gene responds to Mar with a small smile, pleased at how at ease he is feeling, talking to truly strange strangers. "Well, like I was telling Ike over here, I'm from the same place as that guy at the bar. The stoic one with the thin face and the messy short hair. He doesn't seem to recognize me, though; either that or he's deliberately ignoring me." He lifts a shoulder. "Hard to say. But I grew up in southern California." Gene raises a peace sign, adding blandly, "Like, totally."
-
Elriss furrows her brow, thinking hard. After a moment, she says, "I think I saw something about that. A report or something I musta read." She finishes off her redin and sets the glass on the table, considering getting another. "An Andalite host... an' a Sub-Visser named Zorish..." She really should remember a report that... unique, but it's something she probably barely skimmed many, many months ago, and at the time it hadn't been any of her concern. She shakes her head, "I 'ave to check my database."
"Wha' is it that makes this Terenia-no-designation so important?" she asks, setting her chin on her hands with her elbows on the table and looking at him with interest.
-
"The fact that she has an Andalite host, for one," Haviss says. "The fact that popular theory is that she kidnapped the Sub-Visser, for another. The rest is...complicated, and you would have to see the memory dumps to believe it." He shakes his head a little, running a hand through his brown hair. "Terenia was born human, somehow encountered Andalite morphing technology, and became permanently trapped in Yeerk form. Zorish's host is Terenia's biological sister, and I believe she is attempting to free her."
He eyes his emptied beer, turning the glass in his hands. " My own host is her biological brother. I hope to use him to lure her back to the Empire, but so far we have not had much luck locating them. The Sub-Visser is likely dead. I imagine Terenia would have starved him out immediately, but that still leaves the matter of Terenia, her host, and her free human sister. All of which I fully intend on returning to Imperial custody. If I don't..." He doesn't finish the sentence, trailing off.
<<If you don't, they'll kill you slowly, which is more than you deserve,>> his host, Dan Rerin, sneers.
-
Elriss frowns, trying to follow what Haviss is saying. It confuses her, but even in her current state, she manages to catch the gist of what Haviss is saying. "How does one human woman cause so much trouble?" She sways slightly as she tries to picture her host accomplishing any of that. It's ridiculous. She'd be captured immediately. "Your 'Terenia' mus' be really dangerous... really talented. Still jus' a human, though. I... think I see why you're so intent on catching her. Tha'ss embarrassin' for the Empire." She smiles at Haviss, "We pro... prob'ly have someone watching that invessigation already, but when I get back, I can see if I can lend you any resources."
-
Haviss smiles. "Thank you," he says sincerely. He gestures for the bartender. "Another beer, and a glass of water, please," he orders politely. The bartender doesn't look impressed by his good manners, but goes to fill the order regardless.
"May I ask what crime this John and Krissit have committed, to have someone of such impressive status hunting them?" he asks, raising his eyebrows, seeming to have no problem using flattery to his advantage.
-
"Thanks, hon," Elriss says as the bartender sets a glass of water in front of her. It's not entirely clear if she's thanking the bartender or Haviss.
"John, we think, migh' be a member of the Peace Movement. He's an involuntary host. We been watchin' him for a while, hopin' he'd lead us to more members of the Peace Movement. We got an anonymous tip tha' he was makin' a run for it, so we're gonna catch him and do a memory dump, or maybe jus' infest him. Krissit dis... appeared with his host a few months ago from the Visser's interrogation cell. Our amonymous tip said there was reason to believe John got rid of his own Yeerk, Tullem 111, around tha' time, an' that Krissit has been using John as a host an' im... impers... pretending to be Tullem." She takes a sip of her water. Revealing this much information is exhausting. It's a good thing Haviss is so clearly trustworthy. "We think they migh' be spreading the Peace Movement in the main pool. Bu' John saw my guys, an' I wound up being the only one in good enough shape to chase him through the woods." She laughs bitterly. "Bu' don't tell anyone. Tha's classified."
-
"Interesting," states Mar, although not really interested at all. There were many people in the Bar who knew another patron upon entering, although it was rare that the patron didn't recognize them. Mar turns his head, attempting to intercept the conversation between the two Imperials, and does catch clear reference to a "Terenia." A nasty grin crawls across Mar's face, and then dissipates. "Well. I think I know who they're talking about, at least. Regardless..."
"...if you're from Earth and in this Bar, you could still be anything," says Mar. "And you could be several things other than human. What are you?"
-
"Hm," Haviss murmurs thoughtfully. "The Peace Movement usually isn't so bold as to make waves." He brushes a hand through his dark hair, sitting back in his chair and sipping at the fresh pint. "You were chasing him through the woods, you say? The woods on Earth? You will have a difficult time finding him here, I'm afraid. You're a long way from Earth, and there's no main pool here. There's no pool at all, or Kandrona, as far as I know, save what's on my ship."
-
"That all depends on who's asking," Gene says glibly, taking a cue from Kellim as he leans forward, beer in hand. His heart, nevertheless, is hammering away in his throat.
He looks Mar up and down, skeptical. "What are you?"
-
"Mm, many things," states Mar. "It seems I am what people make of me." Mar sips the last of his own glass, feeling a bit more willing to indulge in drink. There was so little consequence to anything he did here, after all---- although a part of him disagreed with that statement. He had met Elayne here, and the Andalite War-Prince Ossanlin. He had involved himself in another Highest's war, something he had sworn not to do.
"If you want to know what I actually am, however..." states Mar with a shrug. Might as well tell the man. "....I'm called an angel among humans, or a God. Depending on your belief system. Rather, I am the mortal form of an entity which can only exist because this place is a madhouse. I have barely any power like this, and less influence...so don't bother making any wishes. But at least I make an interesting conversationalist, on occasion."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gallant Regale had landed in the middle of the forest, and there was no other environment on Earth that he felt less at home in. He was a person who loved the nightlife--- the wine, the women, the sweet smoggy embrace of a good city. Being stranded in the middle of the wilderness wasn't even remotely his idea of a good time, and to make matters worse he had appeared plastered in the mud. "Ugh," states Gallant, slowly lifting himself off and attempting to brush it off. At least it was relatively dry.
Gallant paused, trying to determine exactly how he had gotten out here. He remembered turning in for the night with Philippa at home, with thoughts on his mind about how to restore the ailing fortunes of his family. The Regales lived well, but they were running into severe money troubles and Gallant knew it. It wouldn't be long before the family wouldn't be able to maintain its facade, and it killed him inside. Gallant rubbed his hand through his muddy golden-blonde curls, resembling at the moment more of a dirty blonde-brown. .....blast. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing on how he had arrived here in his memory.
He checked his clothes. He seemed to be wearing a red vest, brown work pants, suitable boots, and his cravat. His coat was completely missing, and the clothes themselves were odd---- he had gone to bed in his nightwear. Gallant looked around warily for anything familiar, any sign that he had simply sleepwalked off onto the grounds of his house. Gallant scowled. If this whole thing was a joke by ETW, it was in poor taste.
He did see something ahead---- lights not far away from where he was. Gallant grinned---- civilization meant someone could tell him what had happened. He walked steadily through the woods towards the lights.
-
Ike sat in silence, drinking his scotch and listening to Gene and Mar. He looked around the room, and noticed a piano in the corner. He knew how to play, and walked over to see if it worked. He tapped a few keys, and they worked well enough, and started to play a soft tune on it.
-
"Don' get me wrong," Elriss replies to Haviss, "this John guy's real quiet about his stuff. He's good. But," she says, raising her glass of water to Haviss in a halfhearted toast, "we're better." She quickly downs the glass of water, only dribbling a little bit on her uniform, and waves to the bartender for another.
"Of course it's Earth," she says, waving a hand dismissively at Haviss. "I jus' ran from over there," she says, turning the same gesture into a vague wave towards the door. "But..." she pauses, apparently thinking quite hard, "It wasn't Earth last time." Her eyes widen a bit as she stares at Haviss. "Huh. Well... even if it's not, somehow, John has to be here too, an' I'll just grab him and walk back to Earth," she waves towards the door. "I gotta feed soon anyway, an' I don' know how much I trust you with that. No offense." She grins to show that she's joking.
-
"Walk back to Earth?" Haviss echoes, unable to help the small grin that plays over his lips. "That would be quite a feat. If you manage, please tell me how. As for John...well, if I understand this place, which I doubt anyone truly does, it is entirely likely that he is still barreling through the woods on Earth. The bar only brings people here it wishes to bring. If it had no use for John, and use for you...well..." He shrugs. "I have been here many times over the past two years, and no one has ever simply walked to Earth. They have flown, they have opened rifts in the space-time continuum, and they have done all manner of impossible things. No walkers, though."
He takes another, longer sip of his beer. He can tell it is beginning to go to Dan's head. The human has grown quiet, rather than petulant, a sure sign of inebriation. He is always calmer when drunk.
"If you are in need of Kandrona, I have a little to spare," he offers. "I'm afraid I can't afford to give you more than what you would need for one cycle. I am on the tail end of a shipment, and have not been able to contact my Skrit Na resources."
-
"No, 's alright," says Elriss, holding up her hand. "That doesn't make sense. I walked here. Er... ran here. Why can't I walk back?" The talk of this bar as though it were a thing alive is making her visibly uncomfortable. She stands, apparently with great effort, and nods towards him, "I think it's about time I was going anyway. It's been a treat, talkin' to you, Haviss Four-Seven-Seven of the Kal Reditt Pool. May the Kandrona guide you and give you strength an' all that." She smiles as she turns to walk towards the door, swaying visibly. "I'll see if I can't send some help from the Light your way."
-
The piano seemed to play well for a minute, but soon Ike noticed it was starting to play by itsself. The music got louder and louder until he couldn't even hear the other patrons. He tried to find something to make it stop somehow, but he couldn't. Then the sound rose again to where it was hurting his ears.
"I think I broke the piano!" He yelled as he stepped back a bit.
-
"Huh," is all Gene can manage to say at first, staring unblinking at Mar, hunched over with his beer in his hands. "Well, nothing should surprise me in this place. Besides, I know better than to make any wishes, especially when they're supposed to be granted by strangers in cravats." He smirks, taking a sip of beer. "I guess that means you're not human."
<<Or crazy,>> Kellim adds.
<<Or hitting on me,>> Gene muses.
The piano's foot pedals wheeze up and down, puffing eons of dust and who knows what else from the underside of the unused, derelict instrument.
Yet somehow it is only slightly out of tune, and while the volume decreases, crawling sensation to keep playing increases dramatically. It is as if invisible tendrils are reaching out from the piano, fusing to the living touch of Ike's fingers, famished after ages of starvation.
Something deep in the recesses of the primal brain tells whoever touches the piano to flee, before the predatory thing takes what it wants, and plays the player until he dies of exhaustion or is forced to patrol for more living things. More life to feed whatever the piano really is. More life for it to control and demolish.
-
Something in Ike told him to keep playing, but also told him to run. In his confusion, he found himself sitting down and playing again. Soon something seemed to take hold of him, and he couldn't resist until a new sound issued forth from an unknown place. It was an inhuman warning growl, and suddenly the piano shook as if something hard had hit it. Ike leaped back, in control of his body once more, and he jogged to a far corner. The alien growling continued for a moment, and fell silent. Ike didn't seem to notice anything but the piano.
"So much for musical atmosphere. Nobody touch the piano." He said in a nervous voice.
-
Haviss' eyebrows shoot up, but he raises his glass in a sort of toast to her departure. "Best of luck locating Earth," he says with a small smile. "I trust I will see you again soon enough. And I do, of course, appreciate any help you can provide."
Putting the glass to his lips he sips briefly, then sets it firmly on the table. Dan is definitely becoming more wobbly, which means it is time to slow down. He pushes the glass a few inches away from him and surveys the room. His attention is abruptly interrupted by a cacophony coming from the piano.
Clapping his hands over his ears and scowling, his eyes fall on Ike. "Do you mind?" he snaps, loudly enough to be overheard by most of the patrons, wincing until the belligerant music quiets and he is able to remove his hands. "I am trying to enjoy some peace here, and you are not helping."
-
Elriss smirks as she walks out the door. Haviss really seems to think she can't just go back the way she came. That's ridiculous. It has to be ridiculous, because she has to get back to the Light.
As the door swings shut, a cacophony bursts forth from the piano. Elriss rolls her eyes, glad, at least, that Ike had waited to start pounding out his tune on the piano until she left. She sets off into the woods, in what she's fairly sure is the direction she came from. She takes her time, enjoying the fresh air, and doing her best to keep her balance, with reasonable success.
She doesn't notice the mud-covered man nearby until she's nearly bumped into him.
-
"It's the piano, man. It's haunted. I am good with normal pianos." Ike said defensively. He watched the thing for a few seconds, suspiciously, and glanced at the bartender who of course gave no excuses.
-
"Mmm, I could be human at the moment," states Mar with a bit of a shrug. He pulls at his ears and looks at his hand, clenching and unclenching his fingers. He had to admit there was something wonderful about it, having a body----he could understand why mortals made this choice even despite all of the fear it brought them. "I have some unusual features, yes, but nothing that could not occur with a few choice mutations."
"Honestly, I rather like it," states Mar with a bit of a grin. "The feel of a body, the weight of it, the beauty of the senses. You have senses when you are Highest, but they seem ever so shoddy by comparison. The immediacy of it is lost."
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Gallant does seem to be getting closer---- he can actually make out some kind of wood building in the distance. It looks pretty run-down. Gallant slumps, as he was hoping for a bigger sign of civilization. I suppose I will have to make do with what I have. As Gallant moves forward, he suddenly stops in his tracks reflexively as a beautiful woman comes within inches of him. "H-h-Hello, m-madame!" he says quickly in French. It was the language most likely to work in a foreign place.
Gallant sizes the woman up slightly---oh, yes. Certainly lovely, although a bit disheveled and poorly dressed. A commoner, possibly? Strange clothes she had on. "Forgive me, mademoiselle," he says, smiling casually yet attractively. He'd gotten this smile down to a science. "I didn't see you rushing this way. My name is Gallant Regale, yes of those Regales. I seem to be very lost--- might a lady like yourself know where I am?"
-
Ike was a bit put off by the casual reactions the others had to what just happened. A demonic piano just came to life and tried to attack him! Right? He didn't just imagine that, did he? He gripped his medallion nervously, wondering for a second if it was just the alchohol. He glared at the piano as if accusing it of being behind the disbelief of the patrons.
-
Haviss snorts. "It's not haunted," he says flatly. "It's...something none of us here likely understand. Some alien species or something. Regardless, it doesn't like being touched, so don't touch it." He pushes himself to his feet, irritated. The piano interrupted the sense of comfort he had managed to create around the strange place, and with Elriss gone and no true leads his frustration is quickly becoming noticeable in the flush that rises to his cheeks. Of course, that could just be the beer.
"Excuse me," he says, approaching Mar and Gene. He glances at Mar briefly, but as they had already been introduced he focuses on Gene. "Haviss Four-Seven-Seven," he says, offering him a quick handshake, not seeming to care that he has interrupted their conversation. "I was wondering if either of you could be of assistance to me. And no," he adds, glancing at Mar, "I am not going to infest you for the sake of your experiments."
-
Ike doubted that the creature was just some alien that didn't like to be touched, but was unfortunately in the shape of something that invited physical contact. He calmed himself down and leaned back in his chair, trying to get back in a better mood, also ignoring Haviss' ribbing about infesting people for experiments.
He though he heard someone talking outside in a foreign language that sounded french. He could understand other languages, and decided to wait until the guy entered the building.
-
Connor appeared with a pop outside of the bar. He had no idea where he was, nor how he got there. That being said he walked in found an empty seat and ordered a drink, half hoping someone could tell him where he was and maybe how he got there.
-
Ike noticed a guy come in, but he didn't look like he's be speaking french. "Hey pal. Welcome to the bar." He said with a wave. He momentarily wondered if the new guy was a controller, and really wished there was a fast way to tell.
-
Connor sipped is drink and asked out loud to no one in particular, "did I die or is this some trick?"
-
"It's a weird place, but we're all quite alive. Maybe the Twilight Zone." He said, chuckling. "There is a weird presence around this place, and I haven't been here long enough to give a concrete answer."
-
Connor nodded then put out his hand, "names Connor, thanks for helping out."
-
"Ike Williams. Nice to meet you." He said, shaking the man's hand. "Don't touch the piano." He said, glancing at it to make sure it didn't move. "I suppose you just kind of poofed here? I found this while flying around in space."
-
"Nice to meet you and yes I did. I was fighting some well I was fighting then poof. What's wrong with the piano, not that I can play" Connor said not howuch he could trust this man. For all he knew he was a yeerk
-
"It's demonically possessed. I don't know if it's an alien possessing the piano, or a creature in the shape of a piano. I tried to play a bit, and it tried to suck out my soul or something. I barely escaped, and it was probably only because I have spiritual connections myself."
-
In that case I think I'll stay away from the piano. Can I buy you a drink? Seems only fitting after what advice you gave me.
-
"You can get me a refill of scotch if you want. Much obliged. Another thing you will find is that this place plays tricks with time and space. You'll find people from all shapes, sizes, and walks of life. I'm a member of a colony of Humans that left Earth to set up a town on a habitable planet not too far from here."
-
I ordered a scotch and a korbel and coke for me. "So tell me on your earth since you had space travel had you learned of many alien races," I asked handinfcovervthe scotch
-
"I hadn't met any personally until I came here. I have heard about Andalites and Yeerks, as well as a few others. There's this big Andalite/Yeerk war going on, you know? Blue centaurs that fight with tail blades against brain slugs trying to take over the galaxy. Someone's bound to make a movie out of that."
-
"You know of the andalites and yeerks? Of the war? Has it reached here wherever here is exactly," Connor asked surprised
-
"It's hard to say where it's reached, exactly. My colony hasn't been attacked yet, and security's on the lookout for controllers. If you just popped in here from Earth, does that mean the Home Planet knows about them now? I hope we show them we're not pushovers."
-
Elriss jumps when she notices the man, practically bumping into him. She looks him up and down, wavering a bit at his incredible smile. Even covered in mud, he's quite attractive.
"Just some Space Bar," she says, shrugging and putting on her most charming version of her drunkest smile... or vice versa? "I think everybody's lost, so you'll fit right in."
<<And now we leave,>> Rose says to her.
<<But he's cute,>> Elriss shoots back.
<<...Why are you so much more agreeable when we're drunk?>>
-
"Earth does not know of the war, it's far to dangerous to trust anyone. We have a very small rebel force fighting the yeerks," Connor said sipping his drink. Continuing he said, "how does your colony know who's a controller and who's not.
-
"I'm sorry to hear about that. I guess we're from different places or times, then." Ike said.
"If you know what to look for, it's pretty easy. Just do a bio scan to see if anyone has an alien in their head, or scan for odd radiation signs. Kandrona radiation is kind of rare. I'm from the year 2181, by the way. I suppose I could give you some tech that would help, but I'm not sure if something won't mess up along the way."
-
"We must be then, on my earth it is only 2013. As for your offer to help, normally I'd jump all over it but as I have no idea how to get home I think I'll stay here for now. Take the time to decompress to adjust," Connor said
-
"If you wind up back home the same way you came, I'm not sure if any of my stuff would go with you anyway. I guess if the infiltration is far enough along, it would be hard to trust anyone. I suppose the best way to win may be to sabotage the kandrona generators, but you'd need to find a way to detect and find it. I don't know what kind of tech you have 170 years in the past, but hopefully you can find a way."
"You know, I wonder if a surgeon could remove a Yeerk from someone's brain."
-
"I doubt it would work then again who knows. As for the surgeon I've often wondered the same thing"
-
"So tell me what you know about the Yeerks, Conner? I know some things, obviously, but I'd like to know more. I guess about Andalites too. I'm kind of on a personal mission to meet new people and find out what I can about the galaxy."
-
Mar looks vaguely disappointed that Haviss won't infest him--- it would be interesting to see whether the Yeerk could make anything more of the Highest's peculiar memories than Mar could make himself. Or interesting to completely ruin his mind and watch the Yeerk convulse on the floor. Or horrify him. So many possibilities! "Too bad," states Mar with a strange smile at Haviss. It's passably benign. "I was looking forward to it. Regardless..."
Mar frowns slightly. "...what exactly do you need our help with? If you're looking for your brother-in-arms, she seems to have gone outside."
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"That reassures me a little, I suppose," says Gallant casually, although really it didn't reassure him at all. How could everyone at the entire hovel be lost? "You could lead me back, if you'd like. Although you seem to be in a hurry to go the other way. Is...is there something dangerous up there?"
She seemed fine though, if a bit drunk. Her inebriation might even benefit him in the long run.
-
Elriss shakes her head vigorously, stumbles, and steadies herself by catching Gallant's shoulder. "Nope. Nothing dangerous, except I think the piano was trying to eat Ike when I left." She looks up, into Gallant's eyes, and flushes when she realizes how close their faces are. She quickly takes a step back, "I jus' have some business to take care of. I'll jus'..." she trails off, and hesitantly turns to continue walking into the woods, brushing dried mud from her hands.
After a few steps, she stops and turns back to him. "We're Rose, by the way."
-
"To be honest I know very little of either, it was a dying andalite who gave me my morphing ability. As for the yeerks, they are parasites. They take over your body through your mind. To me they see the lowest form of life" Connor said.
-
Haviss raises his eyebrows, withdrawing his hand. The curly-haired stranger doesn't seem interested in introductions. "I am looking for someone, but not her," he says to Mar. "She is convinced she can walk to Earth from here, and I'm interested to see how long it takes for her to return." His smile is brief, but smug. "No, I am looking for someone by the name of Terenia. Her birth name is Teresa Rerin. She inhabits an Andalite at the moment, or at least she did the last time we were in contact with her."
He tilts his head a little, catching a snippet of the conversation with Ike and the newcomer. "You best not say that too loudly, human," he says, raising his voice a little so Ike and Connor can hear. "Some of us might resent it."
-
"The Yeerks around here are a bit sensitive about being called negative things, and pretty unrepentant about the things they do." Ike said. "I tried talking to them about it, but they aren't changing easily. I guess if my people get into the war, we might just see how well they do in an open fight, instead of sneaking in under Human noses."
-
The shadows in the bar seem to shift, to grow darker. They begin to stretch and crawl, each splitting into strands no thicker than a strand of hair, a thousand thousand tiny worms of darkness, crawling across the tables and chairs and floor and ceiling and walls, crawling across even the patrons. There's a sense of light, of hope, from some of these, but that sense is quickly smothered by the crushing darkness, by the despair that these ever-darkening shadows seem to radiate. Behind those that leave, the original shadows of objects and patrons alike seem to re-form, but there are a few moments in which nothing is casting a shadow at all.
It becomes clear that the shadows are all crawling towards the same thing... towards the piano, in fact. As they slowly make their way to the piano, they begin to pile up, one on top of the other, until they've formed a shape... a vague, transparent shape, sitting at the stool, hands on the keys. It might be human, but it's hard enough to make out that there's no way to be sure. Its thoughts, its soul, are an endless cacophony of screams of pain and cries for help and moans of despair, but no sound can be heard from it. In fact, it seems to have dampened even the normal sounds of this quiet little bar, and the silence it brings with it is deafening. It's as though the very air itself has dropped ten degrees. Is that a smirk on the face of the bartender? No... no, his face remains as impassive as ever.
The shadow slowly, slowly solidifies, gains form. It is still transparent, but it is now possible to make out what this thing looks like. It might be a representation of a human, if one had never seen a human. Its short, egg-shaped body sprouts two spidery legs, too thin to be real, and two arms to match. Its spindly neck supports a head that's too large for its body, almost perfectly spherical. Its nose is too long and pointed, its mouth is too large, and its huge eyes are too green, but that face might still be that of a young boy. Atop its head sits a perfectly-groomed shock of reddish-brown hair, mostly covered by a brown newsboy cap. It wears what might be an old-time school uniform-- black dress shorts, and a white shirt with a black tie, topped off by a maroon vest. Its polished brown shoes are complimented by green socks that stretch up past its bony knees.
As its appearance solidifies, noises become audible as well. There is the piano, playing the same haunting, beautiful melody that Ike had played. There is also the thing's voice. It is a man's voice, deep and operatic and perfectly in harmony with the piano, navigating a complicated countermelody in a language that none of the bar's patrons have ever heard, words that even the bar seems unable or unwilling to translate. One repeated word stands out, however; "Venvolar." These sounds fade in from a whisper, ever-increasing towards their full volume.
The instant the thing's appearance is fully solidified, it leaps back from the piano with a yelp, falling on its back and taking the piano's stool with it. Though its singing and playing stop, it's almost as though they've continued for a moment even after its hands have left the keys. But that must just be the patrons' imaginations playing tricks, right?
The thing props itself up on its elbows, staring at the piano from its back. In the voice of a boy of perhaps ten or twelve, it says, clearly, "It bit us, Genwa!"
-
Ike looked silently at the spectacle, clutching his medallion for protection. He might have warned the thing about the piano, but it was too unreal for Ike to speak to it. The low, inhuman growling sound came again, as it did when the piano attacked, though again Ike took no notice of it. Something within him liked this place less and less.
-
Mar grins nastily at Haviss. "....I know this Terenia you're looking for. She's a whiny little snot with too many problems. She actually came to this very Bar a while back trying to drown out her sorrows, and we did talk quite a bit. A fun person to toy with, which..." Mar's eyes appear to glimmer another color, but the color fades. He rubs his head irritably. "...which may explain why she has so many problems."
Mar pauses, thinking, and then states, "Did Visser Three send you to look or is she merely the particular Imperial criminal you're targeting? A number of powerful Yeerks, including one variant of her own dead sister, take an interest in her."
As if on cue after he had finished, a chill suddenly runs down Mar's spine. Venvolar. The thought simply pops into his head without warning, and it signifies...somethi ng. Mar rubs his head again, trying to rid himself of these brief migraine-like spikes. His memory was broken, and he knew it. Not to mention that another Highest had almost certainly just passed through here. Mar glances at the creature near the the piano and simply states, "No good can come of that thing."
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Her use of the plural was odd, but Gallant had no reason to complain. She was very drunk. "Nice to meet you Rose," he says, following her. "Whatever you're looking for, I can't say you'll find it in these woods while so inebriated. Can you lead me back to the Bar with you?"
He wasn't really sure this would work, but he wasn't going to just leave her out there in the cold. Gallant holds out his hand, shrugging. "It really would help."
-
Elriss hesitates, then turns back to Gallant. She knows what he's trying to do-- he's trying to flirt with her-- but she has important things to do. She has to... has to... do something...
"Okay," she says with a smile, taking his hand. "I'll show you the bar, but then I gotta go..." she waves in the general direction of the woods.
She takes the lead, walking surprisingly quickly towards the bar, considering her state, pulling Gallant along. She speaks as she walks, clearly believing she's making sense as Gallant's guide. "It's a pretty nice little place. Little rundown, and full of weirdos, but the bartender's got a behind on him an' the conversation is good." Or at least, the conversation with Haviss is good.
-
Haviss tilts his head. "Terenia was here?" he asks, suddenly all interest. He waves away Mar's questions dismissively. "She was in the captivity of the Yeerk Empire, not any particular Visser. They are far too busy to waste time with the sort of cretin I deal with. Visser Three...among other Vissers...occasiona lly request access to certain prisoners for their own entertainment, but their involvement ends there." His lip curls with obvious distaste towards the generals of his Empire.
"I am the...I suppose the closest equivalent on Earth would be the warden of an institution in which prisoners are held. Terenia, being one of the inmates, is my responsibility. She was released to a Visser's Blade Ship and was never returned to me. If I do not find her, I will be held responsible." He smiles, as pleasantly as possible. "Would you happen to know where she has gone? Whiny or not, she is a dangerous criminal. She--" He pauses, frowning. "Wait. Did you say dead sister?"
In his mind, Dan is suddenly paying full attention. <<That's not possible,>> he says quietly.
-
Connor says "I make no apology about my words. I have seen evil in humans as well though." After the dark form appeared Connor said "umm is that normal around here?"
-
"I hope not." Ike said, clearly disturbed by what he saw. He pushed away the scotch, deciding he had probably had enough to drink. "Don't take anything at face value, even if it looks tame." He glanced at the chair he was sitting on, as if that may start doing something suspicious. "You have ways to defend yourself, right"
-
Connor nodded, and said "yes, I can morph. I worked at a zoo so I have pretty big bad morphs. What about you?"
-
"Morph?" Ike asked. "I'm not quite sure what that means."
"I can perform some miracles, a few of which can help deal with hostile forces. Also I'm kind of carrying a concealed weapon." He mentioned the weapon in a lower tone. There wasn't much point in concealing a weapon if you advertised it. "The magic is mostly to distract. If I need to finish someone off, I bring out a more mundane tool. I don't deal death on a regular basis, though.
-
"That's right you said you didn't know of the andalites. Besides this wicked tail with a very sharp blade on it, they have the ability to acquire the DNA of any animal through touch. When one crashed on earth he gave me this ability." Connor pulled out a small hand sized blue cube and said in a low tone "this is it."
-
"Wow. This probably isn't the place to show it off, though. That's a cool power. I could imagine a lot of possibilities."
-
Connor put it in his pocket and said "I try and only acquire from animals that can either not consent or have given me their consent."
-
"That's nice of you. Probably for the best. I can imagine a zoo being a great place to acquire DNA. Maybe you ought to find a dinosaur museum and see if you can get a really badass morph." Ike chuckled at that a bit. It probably wasn't possible, though it would be cool if he could get a T-Rex, or an Ankylosaur. "Though with this place, there's no telling what you might get. Maybe the gods poofed you here to get a useful morph."
-
"Yes, her dead sister," states Mar, staring at Haviss more attentively. The Yeerk was suddenly very interested in him. The truth, he calculated, would be most damaging then. "I saw it happen. She came here a while ago, looking for the same person as you were. At this point a bounty hunter, a Yeerk turelek called Keshin, was hired to kill Terenia. Strange power, that one, and not magick. Things after that point went terribly wrong, and I believe it ended with the twin herself dead. Granted..."
Mar gestures about him. "...the nature of this Bar is such that I might be lying, or I might be telling the truth. You may come from a time and era in which it never happened that way, and the Sub-Visser lives. I myself come from no particular timeline at all, although small parts of me are involved in several."
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Gallant gently allows the drunken woman to lead her forward, although he takes a stance as if he were leading her himself. This might not be a bad outing after all. "That sounds excellent for my purposes!" says Gallant with impish delight in his voice. "Fine wine, lovely ladies, and people with stories to share. After all..."
"...I am the information broker where I am from," Gallant says as if sharing a secret when really it's something nearly everyone knows. "Society's black hole" of information. "If I don't know where I am, wouldn't the smart thing for me be to get to know as many people as I can?"
They're coming up closer to the building now. Gallant represses a wince upon seeing it. High society this old rotted wood building was not. It would have to do for a Regale--- he'd been to worse places on his jobs for End of the World.
-
((I always wished they had made that work somehow))
Connor nodded and said "I wish that would work, I think it would be kind of awesome to get a telex or something more bad ass. As for acquiring morphs here, most of these beings seem sentient. I'd have to ask permission. Not that its needed to acquire them but more out of respect."
-
"Of course. You're pretty much taking part of their identity, even if it is for good purposes. No dinosaurs. That's a pity. Still a lot of great present day species, though. I'd like to run a few scans on that thing, but I suppose it should just stay with you. someone died to give you something great. That sacrifice should be respected as well."
-
Connor said "that's true,but I have a favor to ask." This technology you said your people have could I see it? I have a feeling about something I just want to confirm it."
-
"I can take you to my ship and show you some stuff. Let you see what our people are up to a hundred and seventy years from when you're from." He stood up, a bit wobbly, and gestured towards the door.
-
Connor stood and held out his hand "thank you and this might be a bit twighlight zoneish."
-
Ike walked outside, breathing deeply the outside air. He notice Elriss and another guy, and gave them both a cursory wave before moving on to his ship. It resembled a jet in shape, but had thicker metal casing. He opened the hatch into a room between the ****pit and back rooms. There was a computer terminal in the side with a touch screen. "ask, and it shall be answered. What would you like to check out first?"
-
Haviss draws in a sharp breath at these revelations, his expression blanching slightly. His reaction has two incredibly distinct sources. A sharp stab of fear twists his stomach at the idea that not only has he failed to capture his target, but that her at-large status has resulted in the death of a Sub-Visser. The punishment that could be placed on his own head for such an oversight is immense, unless he is able to bring Terenia to justice, or talk his way out of it.
There is also his host's reaction, and despite Haviss' rather substantial anxiety it is nothing compared to the grief-ridden fury that crackles through Dan like a living thing. It is Dan's response to the news of Tamora's death that forces Haviss to suck in a breath, reaching out a hand to steady himself on the table.
"Right," Haviss says, swallowing hard and attempting to recover with a shaky, thin smile. "Well, that...that merely serves to make it all the more urgent that I bring Terenia to justice. Ah--" He hesitates, distracted.
<<Get out of my head!>> Dan hisses, fighting with a surprising reserve of strength against Haviss' control. <<I need to know what happened. I need to...oh God, Tamora. And Teresa...she...if there's a bounty hunter after her...I...****!>> His words are only half coherent, full of shock and rage, interspersed with rather colorful obscenities.
Clearing his throat, Haviss forces a slow exhale and, with great effort, focuses on the external world. "Do you know of Teresa -- I mean, Terenia's -- current whereabouts?" he asks through a clenched jaw.
-
"Yeah, it's a regular high-class social club," mutters Elriss sarcastically, responding to Ike's wave with a curt nod. She smiles at Gallant, "But maybe you're right. Maybe the smart thing to do is to get to know as many people as possible." She sways and smiles charmingly as she reaches for the front door. "Speaking of which... wha's your name, handsome?"
The strange, spindly boy kicks to its feet. Altogether, it stands perhaps five feet tall. It looks around, and then speaks, in a voice very different from the boy's voice it just used. This is a man's voice, nasally, with perhaps the barest hint of a Greek accent.
"Venvolar, of course it did! For that is what it does!" The thing whirls around, taking in the bar's patrons. It gasps when it sees the table at which Kellim, Haviss and Mar are sitting, and then gasps again the very moment Dan begins screaming in his own head, almost as though he can hear it. It cracks a grin, pointing a finger at Haviss.
"Venvolar, that one has a thing in its brain. The thing in its brain won't stop yelling and yelling. Sisters it has, and sickness and brains. But the thing in its brain has a thing in its brain, and the thing in its brain's brain is completely insane." It whips its head around, looking for something, "Find me a knife and I'll cut out its pain!"
Suddenly, the thing slumps slightly, and tenses, looking around in wonder. "Later, Genwa. Where are we?" it asks, again in the voice of a young boy.
-
Connor stood in awe at first and "can you tell me about the technology to detect yeerks or where our histories differ?"
-
"Ultrasound or CT scans can likely find Yeerks in the head, just like they look at fetuses or tumors. We know that kandrona radiation is rare. If you can use a machine to pick up on it, and are familiar with it, it shouldn't be hard to find any. Although I don't think our colony has run into any samples of it. We may be able to get some from Haviss. He came on a ship, and likely has some kind of supply. We might be able to swipe some from the little jerk if we can find his ship and get in."
He went into another room, and pulled out a square machine with a console on it. He turned it on, and pointed it at the blue box, and it picked up on something. "It's picking an energy reading off the box. Honestly I'm not sure what the data means. Like I said, if you know what you're looking for, it shouldn't be too hard to find answers with even 2013 technology."
-
"This is all still awesome to me, and tells me I should find an engineer to make hand held scanners." As for this haviss, if you point him out I might be able morph something small and follow him. Tell me are there insects here?"
-
"That guy that complained to you earlier is Haviss. A male Human controller. I believe his host's name is Dan. As for insects, I think I've heard a few around here." He started looking around for something that might help them catch one. A net with small meshing, a light source, and maybe some gloves, just to be safe. He brought them back out, and showed them to Conner. "Let's go bug hunting."
-
The varied reactions of Haviss and his host are so strong that they register as aura and ripple through even the mortal Mar, causing his entire posture to relax either as if he just ate or drank a small shot of alcohol. Yes, yes---- the energy benefits were well worth coming back to the Bar again. Never mind that he couldn't find either of the two people he was looking for. Or perhaps he was merely trying to convince Himself that there was a point to being blind and nearly powerless.
"She did speak in passing of travelling with the Rebellion in various conversations," stated Mar. His voice seems to be much more measured and certain than it was, and pleased to boot. "I do not know her ultimate choice, but I would start there if I were you. Although you seem to be a mighty unlucky man, as not a single rebel I know is here today."
He did notice after finishing these words the Other's rambling--- the creature's manifestation was either broken or had a very different aim than His own. It evidently noticed him and knew who he really was. This was a problem, especially since he had no idea who or what this Highest-projection was, and where it was from. He kept note of it for future reference.
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"Gallant as vis Crimson Albert Rorek Regale," states Gallant, smiling pleasantly at her. "Gallant Regale for short. Of Avendale, House Light, in the Rhinefeld. A distinguished name to be sure, but perhaps nothing out here." That actually worried him, and so did the issue of returning home. If he wasn't there to participate in the tournament, what would happen to the failing fortune of the Regales?
"And who might you be, Rose?" he stated, smiling. "Do you know what, well...less-than-fine...country we are in?"
-
Gene is so shocked by Haviss' approach and the subsequent conversation--the revelation that this version of Haviss and Dan are not the people he knows--that he can only stare at Dan's hand, too numb to react to Haviss' offered handshake.
He nearly drops his bottle of beer from numb hands as he watches the conversation between Haviss and Mar, transfixed. He barely even registers the strange creature that appears at the piano, and the din of the bar is washed out by internal debate.
<<We need to get out of here, Kellim,>> Gene says again, feverish.
<<It won't exactly be a simple thing, sneaking out of this booth at the mention of the rebellion,>> Kellim hisses back. <<I am trying to listen!>>
<<You handle it, then!>> Gene snaps. <<I give up, go, go already! I already look like I've seen a ghost!>>
Kellim blinks into control, catching the beer before it slips to the floor. He places the bottle on the cracked wooden table, not really looking at it.
"Dan Rerin," Kellim says warily, leaning forward and wiping sweaty hands on his jeans. "And Haviss Four-Seven-Seven." He gives Dan and Mar a slow smile. "Forgive my relative surprise. You see, I thought you would recognize me. We are supposed to be living under the same roof."
<<Kellim, what the ****?>> Gene yelps, aghast.
-
"The Rebellion," Haviss murmurs, nodding. "Yes, I know of them. Every so often one of my...clients...is some idiotic soul who was trying to find them."
He swallows, clamping down on his control over Dan, whose fury is mounting. Almost subconsciously, Haviss' hand balls into a fist, though his expression does not change. "I must find these rebels."
Haviss is distracted by the sudden interjection of the strange new arrival. He turns his attention to it, watching in muted confusion and anxiousness. <<By the Kandrona itself, what is going on here?>>
Kellim's sudden injection into the conversation startles Haviss, who is already on edge. He turns back around, eyeing the stranger suspiciously. "The complex I work at is large, and I have not been there in almost two years. It is entirely possible we live under the same roof and I do not know you." That was not good. Someone from his own facility should not be here. And if they were...they could take news of Haviss' folly back to the Empire. Framed the wrong way, he could be looking at a death sentence.
<<Good,>> Dan snarls. <<You deserve to die. I hope they let you starve. And I hope I get to hear every single cry, you bastard.>>
Clearing his throat, Haviss forces a smile on his face. "I don't suppose you could refresh my memory?"
-
Elriss blinks at the man's introduction. That's certainly a long, non-Yeerk title. As she steps into the bar, she mumbles, "Gallant Albert as vis-a-vee von Braun of the lighthouse?" She smiles at Gallant as she steps through the door, "How about I just call you Gallant? Gentleman that you are."
She makes her way to the table at which Mar and Haviss are speaking, plopping into the chair next to Haviss. She smiles at Gene, then turns back to answer Gallant's questions, "I'm really just Rose. And I say we're in America. Haviss here," she rests a hand on Dan's shoulder, "says we're on a distant planet, which would make my walk back a lot longer." She laughs a little at her own wit, and waves the bartender over.
"Venvolar, it's the Space Bar!" says the strange boy-creature in the nasally man's voice. It sounds absolutely delighted about this. It eyes the bartender, then looks at Mar, pointing an impossibly skinny finger at him and affecting a look of concern. "Venvolar, that one has a growth, a dark cancerous growth, much bigger than the man himself. It's far away, but it's still all of him. Find me a saw, that I may remove it."
"Later, Genwa," says the creature distractedly, switching back to the young boy's voice and slumping. "What's a Space Bar, Jelsea?"
-
Mar watches the exchange between the two men carefully and smirks. Of course---after all the happenings that had taken place in this miserable dive, he had already guessed. This Kellim fellow and Haviss know each other, but they know different versions of one another. He wasn't certain what the differences actually were, but it evidently disturbed them both.
"I believe we've already been introduced," he states to Kellim with a smile. "Interesting to see that two old friends have arrived together, although you're hardly my friends."
Mar scowled as he saw the monster point at him and make odd but accurate statements. Who or what was this thing? He searched his memory. He was....the Highest was saying he was a Well, or a portal, or storage device? Hmm. Something like that was involved. "Whatever you might be, I haven't the energy to deal with you now," stated Mar in the thing's general direction.
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Gallant looked around the Bar with an air of mistrust and disappointment. He hung his head slightly. It was every bit as ugly, devoid of normal human beings, and prone to attracting criminal types as he had expected. The lightbulb just over his head fizzled out as if it was disappointed with him. Gallant wandered farther in, looking back at Rose but hoping to examine the...locals...more closely.
Gallant froze when he spotted two of them, grabbing near his hip reflexively but thinking better of it. Dracon Titanus in his other body and a Replicant! Or...well...what presumably had to be a Replicant--- he'd never seen that type before. But it didn't really matter. Gallant squirmed and hoped neither of the two monsters would notice him.
Gallant then turns to Rose and smiles politely, gesturing for her to walk ahead of him. "Of course you may call me Gallant! Why, even my acquaintances do. As for this...America..." Gallant shrugs with a grin. "...I can't say I've ever heard of the country. Nor do I comprehend how we could be standing on another planet. But you must be telling the truth."
-
Connor shook his head before concentrating on the DNA of a mosquito. After he had completed the transformation he said to Ike in thought speak <I hope that didn't make you sick. Should have warned you>
-
Ike looked first with curiosity, then disgust, as Conner morphed a mosquito. He averted his eyes when Conner was midway through, deciding he had seen enough. "Be careful, I guess. I'll try to follow and help when I can. If you get in trouble, just fly back to me if you're able."
He walked outside, carrying his flashlight, and made his way to the trees.
-
Connor landed on Ike and said <don't squash me I just landed on you. When we are close shake his hand and ill fly onto him>
___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___
Kato-Adism-Tattuye sauntered into the bar, the normal blue Andalite Fur that was on his body was more of a golden color due to his time spent in the Aparies universe. He sauntered over to the bar, his tail held high and said <I am Kato-Adsim-Tattuye>
-
Ike wandered the woods for a few minutes, shining the light through the trees. Eventually he saw something with wings flitting between the branches. He waved his hand in that direction, pointing at what looked like a kind of beetle.
-
Connor flew off Ike and demorphed a bit away before returning. He silently caught the beetle and started to acquire it. When he was done he looked at Ike and said "simple as that"
-
"very cool. I guess we'll head back to the bar." Ike said. He stashed the flashlight back in his ship, and found Haviss still in the bar. There was also an Andalite. It kind of worried him to know there was an Andalite here, since trouble would probably follow shortly after. Ike decided to stand apart from the crowd, and watched what happened next.
-
"My name is Kellim Seven-Four-One," Kellim says stiffly, sitting back. "And I believe I know quite a bit about you and your host, even if you do not know me and mine."
<<Kellim, what in God's name are you doing? Are you trying to get us killed? Or change ****ing...space-time?>> Gene is beside himself internally, going so far as to push for control.
<<I want to know how he can be here,>> Kellim says, distracted.
<<It's a ****ing bar in space! A temporal rift! Who cares how he's here, can we please not let some past version of Haviss destroy us?>>
-
Haviss can't help but scowl a little at Elriss' return. Not that his conversation with her hadn't been entirely pleasant, but because he was suddenly feeling as though things were going badly incredibly quickly and one more factor in the equation was not something he wanted.
"I assure you, you are far from Earth," he says in a slightly clipped voice, before turning back to the problem at hand. "Kellim Seven-Four-One," he repeats, a little grimly. "Tell me, what exactly is it you know about me and this body?" His expression twitches only slightly at the mention of Dan.
<<Calm yourself, human,>> he hisses. <<What use will expending this energy do? If your sister is dead no amount of fighting will bring her back.>>
-
Elriss frowns-- she's managed to catch Kellim's introduction, and Haviss seems awfully annoyed by his presence. She shakes her head. Why the hell had she let herself become so intoxicated? Now is not the time for her thinking to be so muddled, she realizes suddenly. Not when anyone here might be an enemy.
She looks around for Gallant, who has stopped a distance from the table, and steps back towards him. "Must I," she inquires with a smirk. "I don' have any idea how I could be on another planet, and now you're on another planet too... this place seems to draw people to it, an' I want to know why," she states, shooting a dirty look at the bartender.
She starts at the noise that issues forth from the oddly-shaped monstrosity that might be an artist's misinterpretation of a young boy. The noise comes out in the voice of a woman. A very human-sounding, very scared woman. It falls somewhere between a yelp of pain and a sob.
The creature's eyes go wide with shock as it looks frantically around the room. Its movements have become jerky, halting, almost mechanical, and as it looks around, it gasps and continues to sob, very real tears rolling down its too-smooth cheeks. It cowers a bit at the sight of the golden Andalite at the bar, but then its eyes find those with human bodies.
It takes one halting step towards the table at which Kellim, Haviss and Mar are sitting, but seems unable to move farther. A single hand raises towards the table, slowly, mechanically, and it reaches as though it wants to take Mar's hand.
"People!" it sobs, in the quavering voice of a very, very frightened young woman. "Real people! Please, help me! Help me! Get me out of here, please! God, please, help me!"
-
Ike watched the strange creature that seems to suffer from schizophrenia, though each personality seems to have its own voice. When it called for God to help it, he didn't really know what he should do. He clutched his medallion for protection, and took a few steps forward. "Hello. My name is Ike, may I ask who...and what are you? What brings you to this place?"
He tried his best to keep the nervousness out of his voice. Something within him really didn't like being near this thing. It sensed danger within it. It sensed power within Mar as well, but Mar caused less of a reaction, as if he was tame, but this thing was wild and unpredictable.
-
"I know that you're looking for his sister, for one thing," is all Kellim can manage, before his attention is entirely drawn by the desperate young man...or woman?...who staggers up to their table.
He stares, perplexed, frozen for half a heartbeat.
-
Haviss' eyes narrow, lips pulling down into a frown. "How did you know they are related?" he asks. He glances over his shoulder at Elriss, intending on shooting her an accusatory glare. She was the only person to whom he had mentioned Dan's relation to Terenia. His thoughts are interrupted, though, by the strange newcomer to the table. He stares at him...her?...it, mildly alarmed. Instinctively he pulls back a little, putting distance between himself and this unknown.
-
Mar frowns, glancing over the creature with a look of trepidation. The thing very obviously was not right in its mind--- there seemed to be multiple people co-existing within it, far more than even its outward appearance suggested. There was no other explanation for the huge amount of energy it was generating. Yet of all the Bar inhabitants this...Venvolar probably posed the least threat to him or the man calling himself Ike. Mar takes the creature's own hand with his own prosthetic left.
He doubted anything would happen, but a test was better safe than sorry.
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"It probably is his fault, given that he's not human," states Gallant nonchalantly, looking at the bartender. His rather unusually bent aura was difficult to miss, even though Gallant's skill had always been somewhat weak. While he was entering the tournament as a Caster, it was only out of necessity. It worried him that Titanus was on this other world with him inexplicably, but there was nothing he could do about it. Although it was starting to look like the monster was no Replicant--- it was out of control, jerky, and miserable.
Gallant found the peculiar, tense discussion between two of the Bar members far more...interesting. They seemed to know one another, but clearly not on good terms. He did so enjoy gossip. "Excuse me," states Gallant, wandering toward the two of them. "Mightn't either of you tell me where this part of the world is located? The girl says we're on another world, but I can't see how that's possible."
-
Elriss's eyebrows shoot up at Gallant's words, and she looks towards the bartender suspiciously. "Not human? Last time I order a drink from that one." As soon as she says it, though, she finds herself wishing she hadn't-- she could really go for some water.
She squints at the bartender and sidles up next to Gallant, "How can you tell 'es not human?"
Her attention is drawn to the conversation between Haviss and Kellim. Kellim knew Haviss's host's sister. That would be an immediate, and rather absurdly fortunate, lead for Haviss on his case, and she listens with interest, glaring suspiciously at Kellim.
The odd boy-like creature looks at Ike, panic in its eyes giving way to just a small amount of hope. If it notices the nervous reactions of the others, it doesn't show it.
"I'm a student," it says, in the tearful voice of a young woman. "Um... a biology major. My name is..." it pauses, frowning, and its flow of tears continues unabated, "I think my name is Chelsea. Ike... where am I? I don't know how I got here." It takes a jerky step towards Ike, and halts again. "Please, please help me," it says again, and it is descending into sobbing again, "help me, please, help me..."
It's at this moment that Mar's hand touches the creature's flesh, which gives slightly and doesn't regain its shape, almost as if this thing is made of a hard, but not-yet-dry, clay. It screams, loudly, in the voice of the young woman, a screech of agony, and the thing's form blurs as something within it is sucked towards Mar's arm, but that something is tightly anchored within the creature, and the girl's agonized scream continues for a moment, but then it goes silent as the blurred shape seems to snap back into the creature, and its tears fade from view, and it stares down, wide-eyed, at Mar's arm.
"What is it, Genwa?" it asks in the young boy's voice.
-
Ike stepped back when he saw the reaction of Mar touching the woman...boy...thing . "I'm afraid I don't know enough about your condition to even begin helping you...Chelsea? May I ask how you became bonded with Genwe and Vendolar? Perhaps if you explained your stories, I could understand you better." He tried to settle his own beating heart as he spoke. He wondered if he was way over his head.
-
Mar's eyes widen as the bizarre phenomenon occurs near his weapon. It definitely surprises him that the girl's gesture would count as permission, but he is hardly complaining about a well-earned meal. Mar scowls as Venvolar appears to catch on and sucks his precious energy back into itself. So it seemed the creature was not going to allow him to steal one of its number. Disappointing, disappointing.
When the creature spoke up, Mar stated, "...I do not know how you came to be here, but your presence is unwelcome. Tell your kin to pull themselves together or you will gain nothing from this venture. Or are you really such a pitiful thing that you can do no better?"
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"Why it's simple aura my dear," states Gallant, grinning impishly at his drunken companion. "I am no professional, but I know something of the High Arts. Enough to pretend as though I were good enough to enter a tournament, anyway. But don't ask me what your favorite color is---my parlor tricks aren't up to scratch."
She was pleasant, this Rose girl. He might have her for a night, if he could get her alone. Really he was more interested in why a spirit, or whatever the bartender was, would create a building in the middle of the wilderness. He had passed some very strange transports to the left of him when he reached the door---- what were those? It was evident that some of these people had technology far above what anyone in Avendale would understand. He needed to find a way to use these people to his advantage, and return home to his sister.
Gallant put a hand to his chin, worried. Philippa could take care of herself, but he hated to leave her alone.
-
"Atourega, Venvolar," says the creature dismissively, in its nasally adult male voice. Its eyes fix on Ike, "Chelsea? Chelsea? I know of no Chelsea. Unless Chelsea is what you call the one that's inside you." It reaches, smoothly, for a butter knife on the table, which it grasps tightly in its spindly hands, and moves towards Ike with it. As it swings the knife threateningly, it says, "If you'd let me remove it, we can find out its true name."
Suddenly, it stops in its tracks, as though frozen, the knife clattering to the floor, and turns its head to look questioningly at Mar, tears brimming in its eyes. In the boy's quavering voice, it says, "It doesn't like us. Why doesn't it like us, Do Ka Me?"
"High arts?" repeats Elriss. She giggles, "Hon, I don' know how many people you fool with your magic act where you're from, but we're Yeerks," she waves a hand to indicate the bar in general. "We're much too sssssmart for that." She blinks, "And too hungry." She flutters her eyelashes at him in a parody of flirtation, "Buy me dinner?"
-
Ike isn't afraid of the butter knife, though he's still nervous of the thing stepping towards him. "Are you some kind of liar, or lunatic? Some part of you just called itsself Chelsea. Are you not aware that you seem to have different personas, or are you just lying?"
He knew that he could perform miracles. If only he knew of a way to find the truth of this bizarre creature. He looks at his medallion, questioning. Wondering. Some presence was curious about the thing. How powerful was it? Could it be useful? The presence felt it was disconnected from the larger whole, called The One, but still had a mission to bring things to its higher master. It reached out an invisible hand to try to grasp the energy of the being. To know it better. Like a hungry predator, wondering if what was before it was food.
-
The creature stares at Ike as though it's not seeing him. "No lie," it says in a deep, gruff voice, as its feet lift off the ground. If it notices that it's now hovering, slowly lifting towards the ceiling, it shows no sign. "No know." When the unseen hand of the thing inside Ike makes contact with the creature's aura, it blurs like an image on a snowy TV screen, and a high-pitched whine echoes through the building, reminiscent of microphone feedback, if only microphone feedback were a thing alive.
Suddenly, the image snaps back and the noise stops. The creature steps daintily to the ground, staring at Ike, its eyes wide with wonder. "What is it?" it asks in the boy's voice.
-
Ike hoped that this thing was about as alien as aliens got, because it was certainly strange. "I suppose 'it' would be the spirit of my god, The One. It's not something you'd remove with a knife."
The presence in Ike felt that this thing was dangerous food. Certainly not an easy meal. It seemed hostile at times, but the presence didn't know how to deal with it. It also didn't want Ike to leave without it taking at least something from this place. The One never left a new place without taking some trophy. Perhaps feeding on something easier would give it the strength to devour the Venvolar.
-
Mar frowns at the creature's statement, drawing his jacket sleeve back to reveal his left arm. How could this thing have known the device's name, when he had never mentioned it? He watched as the creature switched souls again and sighed. There was obviously no reasoning with it, although Ike appeared to be trying.
"Be careful," said Mar, turning to Ike. "It has not picked a coherent servant, nor determined a reason it wishes to be here. You are not likely to get any farther."
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Yeerks? The word meant absolutely nothing to Gallant. Was it some sort of science guild? Possibly.
"I'm afraid I don't know who the Yeerks are," said Gallant politely, leading the woman towards the Bar stools. "But the High Arts do exist where I'm from, and I'd love if you could tell me about these Yeerks you work with. I'd be delighted to buy you dinner, ma'am. What would you like?"
This was probably not the best strategy Gallant had ever concocted, dealing with a drunk Yeerk member. But she was very pretty. He'd think about better sources after dinner.
-
Ike sat near Mar, obviously trusting the man more than the Venvolar, depite what he claims to be. At least Mar seems more civl and less likely to attack him. "I can't really make heads or tails of this. The Bar is certainly strange, and at times unsafe. Still, I am compelled to stay."
-
Venvolar stares at Ike for a few moments, uncomprehending. It then turns slightly and speaks, as though calling to someone over its shoulder, its eyes never leaving Ike's. "Ginks, what's The One?"
The change in the creature is immediate. Its eyes glass over, its posture slouches, and its mouth hangs open. Even so, when it looks at Ike now, it seems to comprehend him more than it did a moment ago.
"Not askin' ol' Genwa this time?" rasps the creature, this time in a man's voice, the low, gruff voice of an old man who's been jaded towards the world by a long, hard life. "Even I know this. The One's something dark, Venvolar," The words are slurred, ever so slightly, and Venvolar sways in place as it stares at Ike, its huge, round eyes narrowing to a glare. "Don' know what, but I don't like it." The thing takes three threatening steps towards Ike, closing the distance and putting its incredibly inhuman face as close to his as it dares. It leans closer to Ike, and its breath smells of whiskey.
"Listen here, boy," it says to Ike, "you watch yourself, y'hear. I look out for me an' mine, an' if you think we're jus' gonna..."
As quickly as its come, the new persona is gone, and Venvolar's posture straightens, its eyes going wide again, only this time, it's wearing a hint of a smirk, and it stares at Ike from far too close. "Be nice, Ginks," it says, the boy's voice returning. "It meant us no harm."
"Steak," says Elriss decisively, plopping into an empty chair and shooting a glare at the congregation of weirdos nearby. Or whatever they got that's got a lotta meat." She hiccups, and when she does, she looks confused for a moment, then sheepish, and then confident again, all within a second. "And maybe another water."
She quirks an eyebrow at Gallant, "Not surprised you haven't heard of Yeerks. Mos' humans haven't," she says, smirking at some in-joke. She ignores his comment about 'high arts.' Human superstition. Not relevant. "What I wanna know," she says, "is how you got 'ere. If e's right," she waves a hand in Haviss's general direction, "an' this isn't Earth, how's a human who knows nothin' about the Yeerks get out here?"
-
Ike tried to stand his ground as the creature stepped forward, talking about the One like his God was one of them or something. Still, he couldn't help tensing up and wishing it wasn't so close. he wanted to push it away, but didn't want to touch it. It was hard for him to decide how to act around the creature, since some seemed fine, but others were aggressive or hostile. "What's not to like about The One? If you come to Him and let him grant you peace, I'm sure you'll change your mind. Minds."
The presence didn't like the threatening posture of the creature, and anyone who looked deep into Ike's eyes may see some dark thing tucked away in his mind. It would be happy to show how 'dark' The One could really be. If only he wasn't disconnected from its larger part. Perhaps it could try to solve the problem, but it didn't know how. This kind of thing never happened before.
-
Haviss' eyes continue to narrow at the strange exchange. "Excuse me," he says abruptly, stepping away from the booth and Kellim. He makes a note to deal with him once he pins down exactly what is going on. Carefully sidestepping Venvolar, he approaches Elriss, forcing a smile on his face.
"I thought you were leaving," he says to her, glancing at Gallant with mild interest.
-
Gene frowns as Haviss leaves the strange exchange going on at the table.
At Kellim's urging, he sidles out of the booth, leaving his beer behind.
"Excuse me, everyone," he mutters to no one in particular, pacing across the bar in Haviss' direction, but not approaching closely enough to make conversation.
He hangs back, wary.
-
"We are of one mind," says Venvolar, in the voice of a young boy, staring at Ike with its wide, wondering eyes. "What is its name?" it asks, gazing directly into Ike's eyes. "What does it know? Will it tell us about its god?"
Elriss looks at Haviss and ****s her head, looking almost surprised to see him. "I was," she says. "I am. Jus... he was gonna buy me dinner, an' I figured... what's the rush? Lots to learn here. Intelligence, and all that."
She frowns. "I'm forgettin' something. You wanted me to get my guys on your case." She suddenly looks sheepish and apologetic, then annoyed. "I'll get to it," she snaps. "Waiting two years, you can wait a little longer."
-
Part of Ike welcomed any opportunity to spread the word about his God, though part of him was still intimidated by Venvolar. They seemed far from being of one mind, but he wouldn't press the issue. "Um, yes. My God, The One, is an interstellar force that seeks out new followers and information. He wants to bring everyone together in harmony, so they may all be one with Him. If you accept Him into you, he will reward and enlighten you. I know I was. He is within me, and I am within Him. He brought me into Heaven to be enlightened, but sent me out again to convert others."
-
"Yes yes, the God which I am very suspicious of," stated Mar with a dismissive look suggesting he was the only sane man among schizophrenics. Which from a certain standpoint, he supposed he was--- between the three of them he was the only one who knew anything about the very Highest they served. Although, he mused, that didn't mean he knew much.
Mar drew his sleeve back over the gauntlet and said, looking at Venvolar, "Now Venvolar is a significant word of some kind. Yet you appear to be a collective and not a weapon, although some of your members seem less than thrilled to be joined together." Mar smirked at this, remembering the college student. "....why have you come to the Bar?"
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Gallant noted Haviss' appearance and the strange conversation that passed between him and Rose. These two people had made a deal, while Rose was this drunk? How distasteful--- the man had taken advantage of an intoxicated woman. Still, they might both be part of the Yeerk organization and that was something he needed to know about.
"Yes, I was intending to buy Rose dinner," he said, looking at Haviss. "You can't deny that she certainly needs food in her condition. Are you a Yeerk as well? I'm very curious about what it is you do."
-
"Ohhh," says Venvolar, staring into Ike's eyes, its own giant green eyes shining. "It speaks of harmony. We are intrigued. We value harmony."
At Mar's question, the creature's gaze turns to him. It looks... thoroughly confused. "Why have we come, Ginks?"
The creature then stands up straighter, its eyes glassing over as it sways, looking at Mar with only half focus. "Hell if I know," it slurs. "You shoulda asked Genwa. What do I know?" It leans towards Mar, "I'm bettin' we're here because o' you. You're... weird lookin'..."
-
Ike stuck out his tongue to Mar when he mentioned he was suspicious. "Don't knock it 'till you try it." He said, though chances were he wasn't going to.
He turned his attention back to Venvolar. "Well there is a ritual involved to bring someone into the fold. I could do it if you were interested enough. Though I'm also curious about you and your friends. If you want to talk about your history, that is.
The presence in Ike was interested in letting its master see this creature and making something of it. It wasn't sure if it could bring Venvolar into The One within this place, though. It would require a fragment of The One to reside in the host, and he had problems connecting with the greater whole at the moment.
-
Dan's eyebrows raise. "Yes, I am a Yeerk as well," Haviss says flatly, giving Elriss a sharp look. "By 'what it is we do', are you referring to me personally or Yeerks in general? I'm afraid you'll find we are quite varied. Elriss, for example, is quite good at getting herself drunk and flirting with humans." His lips twitch upwards in an amused, but cold, smile. "Not exactly the most legal activity, unless it is to gather recruits, is it Elriss?"
He keeps partial attention on Kellim, noting that the human-Yeerk duo seems to be interested in following -- and eavesdropping.
-
Venvolar stares at Ike, looking confused for a moment. "Genwa, who does it think are our friends? Should we try its ritual?" it asks in the young boy's voice.
Instantly, the creature seems to change again, drawing itself up straighter. It looks into Ike's eyes, then leans closer and sniffs the air around him. "Venvolar, it's no matter. And the man thinks I'm your friends." It leans back, again staring into Ike's eyes, and grins, "He thinks there's more than one of me."
Elriss waves her hand dismissively at Haviss, "Of course it's for gathering recruits." She bites her lip and eyes Gallant up and down, "Cute recruits."
-
Mar frowned. He was getting increasingly confused about how many people each member of "Venvolar" was aware of, and what the significance of the changing personalities was. "Ginks" seemed to be an old man, "Genwa" was an older man, and "Venvolar" referred to the confused young boy. The one in charge seemed, at Mar's best guess, to be this Genwa.
"Genwa..." stated Mar, pausing with his hand on his chin. He begins to move toward the Bar stools, as if debating whether or not he'd rather have a drink than talk to these guys. "...you seem to have some idea of the situation. Are you conscious of all being in the same...body...right now?"
Mar wasn't certain that was exactly what they were seeing....
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"So it's an organization with many layers?" stated Gallant, looking momentarily confused. "Or, perhaps...a species or an ethnic group?" Gallant shakes his head. "No, no. That doesn't make any sense. You two are both of the White race, like myself, and clearly human enough. As for recruiting.."
Gallant grins, putting his hands in his pockets. That part of this discussion sounded like more fun. "What exactly does being a part of your little club consist of? Are there membership dues, or a ritual?"
-
Haviss' grin becomes a little shark-like. "A ritual, I suppose is the best way to describe it," he says smoothly. "Though I do not, unfortunately, have the proper materials with me to ensure your membership, if you were interested. I trust Elriss does, if she is in the act of active recruitment." He raises an eyebrow towards her.
-
Venvolar stares into Mar's eyes, quirking its eyebrows. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, sir," it says in Genwa's distinctive voice, "but you think you make sense. Maybe I should extract the part of your brain that's wrong."
Elriss smirks as Gallant speculates about who the "Yeerks" might be. The man really has no idea. It's perfect. She's so distracted, she almost misses Haviss's comment.
"Oh..." she begins, pausing. "Um. I may not have the... proper materials... with me." She looks abashedly to Haviss, "More jus' drumming up interest at this point. An' he's very interested in joining." She looks back at Gallant, "Aren't you, darlin'?"
-
"Mm," Haviss says, rolling his eyes a little. "Yes, well, drum away, I suppose. Just do not get too close, Elriss." His lips twitch into a smile that is more sneer. "You are a long way from the proper materials, if you did not bring them with you."
Outside the bar there is a low humming sound, and the dark windows are suddenly aglow with a blue light. The sound intensifies momentarily, loud enough to interfere with conversation, and it is very obviously the sound of a ship landing. A loud crunch, followed by the screeching of metal on metal, indicates an inelegant landing, and the light dies with the sound.
All is silent once more.
-
Elriss's brow furrows as she listens to Haviss. Who was he, to lecture her?
"Maybe he has a good point," she mutters, as much to herself and her host as to Gallant. She looks into his eyes and shrugs, "I'm Temser 2, after all. Can't be gettin' too improper."
She turns to Haviss. "An' you. I think you and I need to..." she's cut off by the sound of a spacecraft flying overhead, and her words are forgotten. She cranes her neck to see if she can't tell what's just landed outside.
-
"So you don't have any idea what's going on either," said Mar with a droll look to his face. If even the Venvolar did not know what he was, there was little point in talking to him. Ike was even further on the exasperation end of things--- he was alarmingly straightforward about his brainwashing, as if it were the most natural thing in this world. .....ah. Mar paused, and then looked in Ike's direction.
"Try it, you say?" he said, his expression unreadable but showing interest. He crossed his arms. "You know....I do wonder what would happen if I did. Do you have a way for me to meet this Father right here?"
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"Oh, and the mighty Temser 2 can't be seen flirting with us lowly mortals," Gallant said with a side grin, sipping at a drink at the table. It was odd--- he wasn't sure he had even ordered one from the Bartender. Sometimes Time seemed a bit...strange...in this place. Had there been a pause before they spoke?
Gallant then looked over at Haviss and said casually, "Well if either of you get an altar that works let me know. I do know what a pain that can be from experience. I once hosted a little party that needed one."
-
Ike opened his mouth to reply to Mar, but closed it in thought. Frankly he wasn't so sure he could from here. "This place seems to be everywhere, and nowhere. I feel the presence of The One, but also some...interference? Maybe if we found a quiet place and I called out to Him in spirit, he could find us. Sometimes new converts are brought somewhere that His power is infused, like a holy temple, and meditating can connect you to him."
"Maybe if I gather a few things from my ship, and we go to the lake, we could communicate with The One more directly."
-
Haviss smirks at Elriss, recognizing her drunken attempts to retain some semblance of control. It was quite amusing, actually, and more interesting than the sounds of another patron making their way to the bar. He had been here long enough to be used to the sound of ships arriving and departing, although this one seemed to be manned by a clumsier pilot than most.
Gallant, on the other hand, was a bit of a mystery. "A party with an altar?" he asks once the noise dies down. Frowning, he searches his host's memories for any sort of knowledge regarding such things. "Are you a part of a cult, then?"
There is a long silence after the initial cacophony that marks the new ship's arrival. Then the sound of hooves, moving at a particularly frantic gait, resound outside. The door is shoved open with one weak hand, and an Andalite gallops into the midst of the bar.
He is a young male Andalite, with a build so slight that it is almost feminine, lacking the tone of a typical warrior. Even more notable is the utter lack of decorum in his appearance. His turquoise fur is standing on end, as if he had been recently in a fight with lightning, and it is somewhat shaggier than the typical Andalite's. On his head is a strange contraption that almost looks like a helmet, with holes for his eye stalks. It is made of scrapped together shiny and dull metal bits, and covered in distracting blinking lights.
The Andalite blinks wide, frantic amber eyes at the room, taking in the totally alien nature of the patrons. His flanks are heaving with the exertion of running into the room, but he does not seem ready to rest. <Does anyone here have access to a standard beam weapon?> he asks urgently in open thought speak. <A Shredder beam or your own species' equivalent?>
-
"The lake...." murmur Mar. Memories flash before his eyes of the last time he came to this Bar. Yes, yes, the lake would work for a summoning--- more than one Entity had either taken refuge in or seemed stronger near the place. Mar stands up next to his chair, glancing down at Ike afterward. "...I think that will work nicely. Let us see how this One reacts to contact with me."
Mar smiles pleasantly, although something in the expression in his eyes is still unreadable. He was very interested in whether the One could absorb him. And even if the creature could not, he would find out how the Highest was doing it.
Before they can get moving, however, an Andalite bursts abruptly through the door wearing a helmet with flashing lights. Mar frowns irritably, rubbing his forehead as he listened to the disheveled idiot speak. Just what he needed--- a distraction. "....Ike, do you by any chance have what this...person...is looking for?"
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"Certainly not!" said Gallant with a bit of a grin, as if the very idea was ridiculous to him. "I once had guests that were far more adept at magic than me. They wanted to have a set piece to work with and I obliged. They put on quite a show."
Before Gallant can speak again, a....blue monster!....burst through the door looking panicked. Gallant's eyes widen and his glass drops onto the table and shatters. He stands up quite stiffly, looking back and forth with an expression of pure terror on his face. "What....what is that thing?! Is it talking?!"
-
"I have a blaster." Ike said in Galard, getting up and moving towards the Andalite. He didn't really want to advertise what weapons he had, but the guy looked like he was running from something that could burst in at any moment. Not to mention the imperials in the room that may decide to attack him too. He pulled out a pistol with two barrels, one on top of the other. It was actually a combination weapon that could fire lasers and bullets, with their own barrels. In an advanced world, sometimes bullets were better than lasers. "Tell me more about your problem."
-
The Andalite stares at Ike with his main eyes, his stalk eyes taking in the room as a whole. <You are a human, yes?> he asks, then continues without waiting for a response. <You would not understand my need. Give me your weapon and I will return it to you at a later date.> He moves towards Ike and his companion, holding a hand out, clearly expecting to be obeyed without complaint.
-
"Yeah, I'm human. Not everyone here is, though. I have a spare gun in my ship, so I guess you can have this one if you just need the weapon." Ike said. He explained that there's a switch for the top barrel to fire beams, and a bottom barrel to fire bullets. He also gave the guy an extra clip for the bullets after handing over the gun. "Normally I'd invite you to rest a bit, but I'm not sure how a couple of the patrons would react to you being around." He tried not to look at Elriss or Haviss directly, since who knew if the guy wouldn't start shooting them for being Yeerks. He did stand between the Andalite and them in case they decided to try something themselves.
"You make sure to come back in one piece now."
-
Elriss raises an eyebrow when Gallant begins talking about altars and magic and that kind of nonsense. She opens her mouth to deliver a sarcastic, flirtatious, and profoundly clever reply, but is interrupted by the sound of the door opening.
"Andalite," she spits under her breath, her hand inching towards her Dracon. The Andalite has not yet noticed her, or her Imperial uniform. She takes a moment to look around at the other patrons... they seem to be more accepting of this new arrival than she is.
"So this really is a rebel stronghold then," she mutters darkly to Haviss. "All the more reason for me to get my people here as quick's I can."
Venvolar stands a little closer to Mar and Ike. It eyes them both, and in the boy's voice, it says, "We would like to see the lake as well."
At the sound of the door opening, it turns to look at the Andalite in the doorway. Its eyes grow wide at the sight of the creature, and it lets out a small "Ooohhhh," followed by, "Can we keep it, Genwa?"
-
The Andalite watches Ike impassively as he tries to give instructions. <Yes, yes, I know how a combination projectile and beam weapon works,> he finally says, cutting the man off and taking the weapon. He has no holster, so he settles for holding it at his side. Then he takes a step back addressing the room at large.
<If anyone would like to see a rather ingenious explosion, please step outside and witness the destruction of my vessel!> He flashes an Andalite smile with his main eyes.
Haviss' own lip curls upward at the familiar blue form, and his Dracon is out of its holster with a hiss of metal on leather. He doesn't raise it, but he does narrow his eyes as he glances to Elriss. "If it is, he may have reinforcements," he murmurs.
-
Ike was a bit put off by the Andalite's attitude, but didn't say anything. He started walking outside, mostly because he was heading out with Mar anyway. Venvolar too, apparently. He hoped the guy wasn't overly crazy, though the more he talked, the more likely he seemed to not be deserving of holding a weapon.
-
Gene, having found a seat at the bar near Haviss, Elriss and Gallant, is content in letting the snippets of conversation wash over him for a few long moments.
The bartender stares at him, and he finds himself obliged to order, giving the man--or the creature--a cautious smile.
"Uh," he breathes, clearing his throat. "Jack and coke, please."
<<Is it wise to drink, in this place?>> Kellim admonishes. <<Especially after the beer.>>
<<If I'm going to make conversation with him?>> Gene responds, sliding a wrinkled American ten dollar bill across the scratched bar counter. <<Yes.>>
He takes his drink, which arrives in short order, and sips thoughtfully.
He winces.
<<Right. We've sat down in the middle of a fire fight.>>
<<You're armed, if you recall.>>
<<Don't you think I know that?>> Gene snaps.
"Excuse me," he says, leaning forward after an especially big gulp of sweetened liquor. "Haviss. Could you please not shoot that Andalite?"
-
Elriss turns to Kellim and hisses, "You're one of them! One of the Andalite sympathizers!" Her face is drawn into a snarl as she whispers back to Haviss, "You were right."
Her eyes narrow, and she fingers her Dracon as she glares at Gene, doing her best to also keep an eye on the Andalite, "Unless you just meant that we shoul' interrogate him instead. I'm sure that's what you meant."
Suddenly, Venvolar's eyes widened, as though in shock. The middle of its chest began to lighten in color, slowly at first, and then faster and faster, the change in color spreading from its chest and up to its head and down its arms and legs. The color became lighter and lighter until the entire creature was washed out in white, but it continued to lighten, casting its own glow across the dim, dingy bar.
"Genwa..." came the voice of terrified young boy, squeaked out from within the glow "Help..." and without another word, the creature disintegrated into a burst of tiny white sparks, which floated away for only a brief moment before going out all at once.
"Boom, baby!" shouted a voice enthusiastically, and there, standing behind where the creature had been, was... a reindeer? It winced, "Whoa. Sorry. That sounded way too Comet."
-
"If you shoot one Andalite, not only will his comrades come running, but they'll have no reason not to destroy you," Gene replies with a shrug, sipping his drink. "Put the weapon away, he looks harmless."
-
Haviss' attention is pulled away by Kellim's interruption, and his sneer only intensifies. "You do not tell me what to do with my weapon," he says lowly, dangerously. His eyes flicker to Elriss. "Despite your claims, I do not know you, traitor. I have no reason to listen to you."
The Andalite had evidently expected a more encouraging response to his announcement. Frowning a little with his eyes, he turns in a full circle, despite the fact that his stalk eyes render the motion useless. His tail swishes restlessly until his main eyes fall upon the small group of infested humans, and Gallant.
<Yeerks!> he exclaims, his eyes trailing down Elriss and Haviss' Imperial uniforms. Rather than sounding furious or hateful, he sounds delighted. <What a wonderful coincidence! This is perfect!> He abandons his apparent plans of destroying his ship, for the moment at least, and approaches the four humans with a pleasant smile. He stops just a few feet in front of them, bowing his upper body a few inches.
<It is a pleasure to be in your presence,> he says formally. <My name is Zaretil-Moreth-Kiluron, at your service.>
-
Ike was going to leave, but Venvolar disappeared, some talking deer showed up, and the andalite had pretty much the opposite reaction to controllers than he expected. After a few moment's thought, he decided that he wasn't responsible for this guy if he chose to talk with the Yeerks. He went out to his ship to get another gun and some items.
They were four round objects that might resemble foggy crystal balls, little bigger than baseballs. They would help to clear the area, and allow The One to find someone if they were far from a shrine. He waited for Mar before continuing to the lake.
-
Gene shrugs. "Then shoot him, Haviss," he says quietly, emboldened by the alcohol. "By all means."
He eyes the Andalite cautiously. <<Is he...well?>> Kellim wonders.
-
Mar watches as the venvolar disappears (Or perhaps...Venvolar as he called himself) and the talking reindeer suddenly appears. He finds himself less-than-surprised by this event: After all, this was the Bar he was in. Monsters from beyond the ken of mortals and angry Highest were par for the course. "Excuse me," states Mar to both the reindeer and the other patrons as he gets up and leaves through the saloon doors.
Mar finds Ike nearby his ship, shifting about an unusual foggy sphere. Was it some kind of Orb, or was it a ritual device? Mar furrows his brow--- It was a bit hard to tell, and unlike with the venvolar his memories did not suggest an answer. "I presume you have what you are looking for?" Mar says to Ike. He was beginning to wonder if this was a terrible idea....
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Gallant seems more bewildered by the appearance of the talking blue monster than the reindeer, although the fact that it could talk gave him pause. "If you're a familiar, your Master has no taste at all," muttered Gallant toward the reindeer.
Gallant blinked in confusion upon hearing the reactions of the other patrons. Gallant says in Haviss' general direction, "You know what this thing is? An...Andalite, I presume? Is he dangerous?"
-
"Yes, these will do." Ike said. He brought the orbs to a clearing near the lake, where the water lapped gently against the shore, and the leaves rustled rhythmically. The orbs were placed in a square area, and he assumed a cross legged position on the ground. "Sit with me." He said. After Mar was in the square, he began chanting some unintelligible words. The fog began drifting out, making a pattern on the grass, like branches from a tree. It also rose like walls, making a dome of dark green mist, with branches all around.
His eyes closed, and he stopped chanting. When they opened, his entire eyes were dark green, and he spoke with a different voice. "My servant has called me to invite someone into the fold. To bring someone to The One." It said. "However, do you think I wouldn't know a fragment of a Highest when I saw one? Do you not know yourself that you already belong to another? Or do you truly seek refuge from he who created you?"
-
Mar's expression, upon sitting down in a cross-legged position, shifts as soon as the fog appears. He seems more tense, almost pensive. So, He was coming Himself. How preposterous. Why would the Highest come all this way? Mmmh, interesting.
Mar glances toward Ike when he changes expressions, using a poker face he'd developed over several years. "That's true," said Mar with a voice almost as even as his face, but with a bit of arrogance. "I am an incarnation, or at least a part, of a Highest from somewhere adjacent. What I want from this venture is to understand your....methods more than to seek an exit from <Zuhnto.>"
This last word is peculiar, and seems to be more of a description than a name. Mar clears his throat and asks his question. "How are you able to create thralls with personalities so similar to the base?"
-
"My methods are simple. I create fragments of myself, and fuse them with mortals personally to ensure nothing goes wrong. With them, I change a mortal in such a way as to serve me without controlling every aspect of them, partly through giving them everything they will need in life."
"Another Highest can be a hard thing to control, though. There was one entity that I found destroying some of my creations. I tried absorbing him whole, after he made it clear that he didn't want to work together. I was forced to simply chase him out. He did not send out fragments of himself, though, preferring to send minions. If you wish to know us on a more personal level, I will answer all questions."
From the fog, he produced an amulet on a chain just like Ike's, and placed it in front of Mar. "My followers all remain themselves, to an extent. I simply remove some negative parts of them. Humans, for instance, are a violent race because they value their personal freedom too much. This drives them to even be suspicious of my motives, despite the fact that what I offer is so similar to one of their deities of choice. I wish for absolute knowledge, and the end to conflict, and offer all that I have to the unenlightened."
-
Mar picks up the amulet, fingering it with his left hand. The gem atop this hand glows ever so slightly. "So, this is the kingmaker," Mar says with considerable fascination. "If you make your thralls by implanting yourself into other beings, in effect every thrall becomes an incarnate. With their old proclivities intact."
Mar then glances over Ike with suspicion, a sneer in his voice. ".....yes yes, but what's in it for you? If you exert such limited control in exchange for the end of their perilous freedom, you have little gained for much lost."
The economy of it was baffling. He dearly hoped this creature wasn't another one of those pathetic altruists.
-
"I gain information, and all the power that a loyal species can give. All of the ingenuity of entire galaxies. It is a common idea for a mortal to want to rule over all that he sees. I see all, and of course I wish to rule all. I was once a nothing, and now I am everything. What I do now is more or less what I have been doing since I was not much more than this Ike person."
"Leaving mortals with a certain amount of autonomy lets them come up with ideas that I may not have thought of, and it's interesting to sit back and watch them live their lives once in a while. They're my pets. Not my automatons."
"Why worry about what I gain, though? I assure you that my end is covered. I never do anything I don't want to do, at least not for long. All you have to consider is what you might gain. All the better for you if you're getting the better share."
-
"So you're like a child given a gun twice the size of your head and now you think you know how to fire it," states Mar, a grin crawling across his face. He toys with the medallion in his hands. "I have met Highest like you before. I acknowledge your legitimacy, but not your wisdom I'm afraid."
"Do you want to try this with me to see what would happen?" Mar states, glancing back at Ike again with a bored expression. "Honestly I haven't the slightest idea what would. It would give Me insight into how you're making your pets, for sure."
-
"I suppose I could be considered young, compared to other Highest. I'm glad you respect me, at least a little. I certainly have enough power to make another Highest regret attacking me."
A smile forms on his face that's uncharacteristic for Ike. "I am interested to see what happens. This is new ground, and I love to try new things."
-
Elriss mutters to Gallant simply, "They are the enemy."
She tenses as the Andalite approaches, but she seems at a loss for what to say in response to his She glances from Kellim to Haviss and back again before answering, "Andalite." The word comes out as much as a dry observation as it does an only-slightly-slurred address. She doesn't deign to address him by name, nor does she give her own, but hey, to her credit, she doesn't try to shoot him right off either.
"Um..." she begins professionally, "What is your reason for being in this sector?"
The reindeer looks around, taking in the dingy little bar. "Place could use a little work," he says. His eyes fix on the Andalite. "Whoa. Man, they musta been feeding him something crazy," he mutters. "Either that, or somebody slipped something extra special into that last batch of cookies."
He turns to Gallant with a laugh. "Familiar? Familiar nothing. Familiars wish they could fly like I do." He smiles self-mockingly, "Name's Vixen."
-
Haviss scowls at Gene, but he is more taken aback by the Andalite's words than anything, and he does lower his weapon, not going so far as to holster it.
"This is...unusual," he breathes, no sure how to respond.
Zaretil lifts his upper body from the bow, his main eyes focusing on Elriss. <I am entirely uncertain, to be honest,> he says, sounding excited by this fact. <This is not the sector of space I was intending to arrive at, and my computers seem to be delightfully confused as to exactly what sector it is. Which is actually quite perfect. I do not want anyone locating me too quickly.> He grins with his main eyes. <And to what do I owe the honor of your presence. Those hosts, they are new are they not? I have never seen them before.>
-
Mar stares at the amulet, a warped grin crossing his face. A novel experiment, this was. If his Highest self saved him from being absorbed, it meant the Highest cared enough about what he did for him to hold leverage against the Prince. If his Highest self allowed him to be absorbed, It would receive valuable data on a more advantageous thrall-making system. If the absorption attempt backfired, it would mean the system could not be used to turn an avatar. No matter what happened....it more than made up for his inability to convince the Yeerks to "play" with him.
"Then let's try it on dear old Mara, shall we?" said Mar to Ike, putting the amulet around his neck.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The-the enemy?" stated Gallant, catching his breath and composure. "Does your guild kill such creatures regularly?" He had to admit that given the obvious intelligence of the...the monster, he would be more interested in studying it than killing it. He had to wonder what the Andalite had wanted with a gun, as well.
The reindeer made vaguely more sense to Gallant than the "enemy" of Elriss, and he realized that fact alone made him snicker a bit. "My I do get myself in strange situations! Why would an animal be able to fly, Vixen? Have you been enchanted by your master?"
-
The chain tightens around Mar's neck a bit, and glows as it draws energy from the dome. As the smoke enters Mar's body, he should feel an overwhelming sense of euphoria. A powerful sensation of pleasure will make just about anyone much more docile as the process completes. Inside his mind, a new entity sifts through his memories, and begins trying to remove chunks of them. By taking out and inserting memories, as the entity desires, a new thrall will literally not know anything but servitude of The One.
In truth, Ike never went to any heavenly place. It was just fake memories implanted in him, while he was in the state of euphoria. With he right memories, one could believe they spent much more time in this place than they really did. Reconstructed memories, as well as a spirit to ensure loyalty, was all it really took to make an obedient convert that would bring more to The One.
The attempted constructed memory should make Mar believe that he wanted freedom from his greater half, and The One saved him, and he would be able to do what he wanted without fear of being reabsorbed by the other Highest. He still had his memories of the bar, but before then, the spirit attempted to implant fear for the other Highest inside Mar. Exaggerating any worried Mar might have of being removed after he left the bar. The spirit within could enhance his abilities, especially if he got out from under the being that controlled the Bar. Loyalty to The One would bring physical happiness, while thoughts of deception or treason would bring pain, but no thrall was ever aware that it was the spirit within causing such things. It was just a fact of life for them.
The One knew that what he found would be a lot to take in. He wasn't yet sure if or how he might use it to gain power from or over the other Highest. Defeat over Crayak didn't mean that he could beat just anyone, and he knew that. After all of this was done, the necklace would loosen.
-
The euphoria that came upon him was shocking. Overwhelming. Familiar like an old wound that had never stopped aching. It was impossible, impossible. Mar lifted slightly off the ground, as if he thought the feeling would send him through the clouds. His platinum white hair seemed to gain tinges of light gold. The Highest that Mar was momentarily attempted to exert control over the human, but then stepped down as if Its projection's freedom was not worth the loss.
The One's entrance into Mar's memories did not go precisely as planned, for the Highest and this human were far too linked. The creature had a few separate memories, tied to its brief life in this Bar, but the vast majority were as ephemeral and strange as the One's own. The One was able to implant its protocol easily, as if Mar wanted it, but it was unsure of exactly which of Mar's memories it had changed.
Mar's feet touched the ground again....and tears were running down his cheeks. Something about him seemed very different---his posture was straighter. Mar wiped his face and smiled proudly, his arrogance completely unaffected yet very different. ".... yet I don't understand. Why would He take me back?"
-
"Welcome to the fold." The One said. "Now that you are with Me, you and Ike can find more people to bring to Me. Also try to find out as much of this Bar as possible. If I was able to have free reign here, I could reach out to much more than I ever dreamed." He patted Mar's shoulders in friendship, then faded from Ike. The dome receded, and Ike was once again in control of his body. He knew what had happened, and was happy that he had done his God proud.
"I'm glad you joined us, brother."
-
Elriss barks out a short laugh in spite of herself. She's clearly still tense, speaking to an Andalite, but she's beginning to feel more in control of the situation, and it shows in her posture.
Temser. Temser. Be the Temser.
<<I hope he chops my head off,>> supplies her host helpfully.
"Been away awhile, Andalite?" she says, now addressing him more authoritatively, her voice positively oozing contempt. "These hosts... are among our newer ones, yes. Tell me, what interest would an Andalite have in a few lowly Yeerks?"
"Oh, certainly," she mutters to Gallant. "It's a matter of killing before we're killed in return. This is a war, after all." She seems to have remembered a hint of her pre-drunken steely-eyed glare
Vixen chuckles, his eyes twinkling. "Yeah, I guess you could say that," he says to Gallant. "Turns out pulling a sleigh through the sky requires the power of flight. Where is it you're from? I..."
He stops speaking mid-sentence, and swings his large, antlered head to look out the window, in the direction of the lake. His expression has gone from jovial to wide-eyed and alert, and he stands stock-still, like... well, like a frightened deer. "Oh, no," he says quietly. "There are more of them." The tips of his antlers begin to take on a slightly lighter color.
-
On a computer console that was on the bar for general use, a message appeared.
FROM: Odysseus Morgan, Head of Security on Space Station Athena
[spoiler]Greetings, all! Long time no see. Just wanted to let folks know that myself, Gaz, and Dr. Asda have settled in a Space Station by name of Athena. Landed a job as head of Security here. Tough job keeping some of these characters in line, but it's a good place. Gaz opened herself a bar a lot like the one we left. So if anyone is in the area, come check it out. Say hi to us, we miss you all. Asda has a position as a Doctor in the Med Wing. Mostly we keep ourselves busy.
I promised you guys I would let you know when I found out the truth on my past. It was far different than anything I could have anticipated.
For the longest time I believed I was the product of some twisted secret experiment. My friend Julian, much like me except horse based, told me that was never the case. I always looked the way I do, and was born this way. One of a minority population on the worlds referred to as "Myths". Needless to say there are some who have strong feelings about sorts like myself and Julian.
When I was young, I met Andromeda, the woman who would be my wife. She was from an affluent family, and her folks were pushing her to see this one fellow. It was something of an arranged marriage situation. His family was also very wealthy and prominent. Well, at our first meeting we seemed to hit it off pretty well. We arranged to meet the next time my cargo route took me nearby. This went on for quite a few months, and then Andromeda broke it off with the other guy. She never liked him, claimed he was a jerk anyway. Andromeda and myself decided we had to be together no matter what. In the end her parents, who were against Myths, disowned Andromeda and cut her off. She didn't care. We got married not long after then found a place to settle down and start a family.
Little did we know that the fella Andromeda was supposed to marry took things a bit harder. He hired a rogue telepath, who also worked as a part time assassin, to mess with my head and make me believe a past that wasn't true. This guy wanted me to get myself in a position where I would be wanted by the government and be taken out. Not sure why this guy decided that such a convoluted plan would be best, but that's what he did. I guess, for the most part, it was working for a while. And ultimately it did work. I lost my wife, and in the end I missed my daughter growing up.
So, there ya have it. The truth behind what happened. Not what I was expecting, but at least I know now. You all be sure to come see me at Space Station Athena! Gaz said she'll give visitors from GESB a drink on the house.[/spoiler]
-
Jocun 119 had arrived back at the bar for another vacation. He knew time was different here, and wondered if much time had passed, and if he'd meet new people. He landed his ship, which was a mixture of Andalite and Yeerk technology, and made his way to the bar. Inside, the Yeerk with a well built middle aged host searched the room. It was a new group indeed.
"An Andalite and imperials, I see. Not shooting each other is a good sign." He mused to himself. He ordered a drink and paid for it, then remained standing near the bar to watch what unfolded. He was in casual clothing himself, since he didn't want to alarm any unhosted Andalites or rebels. In his universe the war was already over, and practically everyone was a controller, so meeting unhosted Andalites the first time he was here was a bit of a surprise. He noticed the random deer as well, and wondered whose pet it was.
-
"It has been a long time," says Mar to Ike with a pleasant smile. True, something was nagging at the back of the Highest's mind--- something that told him that this was not quite what how he remembered it. But it had been decades-- no doubt his Highest self had gotten something lost in translation. "I think I'd prefer to have a drink before getting busy, wouldn't you?"
A drink was well in his mood. There was a spring in his step as he re-entered the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar.
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Gallant blinks. A sleigh? Hmm. It must be cold wherever the Reindeer was from, and it also meant that there were more like him. Before Gallant can adequately respond to the Reindeer, the door re-opens. Another guest enters the Bar, and an unusually happy-looking Titanus was not far behind them. Gallant averted his gaze---that could not bear well on things--- and turned back to Rose.
"It baffles to my mind as to why you would be in war with blue monsters, but it seems important," he says with a slight grin. "They don't seem to be fond of you, either---these Andalites. Mind letting me in on the situation?"
He was aware at this point that he was getting in over his head, but that was nothing new.
-
Ike out his stuff back in the ship, and caught up with Mar inside the bar. Fortunately a fight hadn't broken out between the Andalite and the Yeerks. He noticed someone new, but decided to stick with his new comrade. He ordered himself a drink, paid for it, and took a seat.
-
"It's... kind of a long story," is Elriss's immediate, tense whisper in response to Gallant's inquiry. She frowns at the middle-aged man who makes his way to the bar, seemingly unconcerned with the happenings here. He walks past a computer console, drawing her eye to it, and she steps closer, skimming the words. "The Andalites fancy themselves masters of the universe. It is their wish to keep all other species... oppressed and controlled," she mutters to Gallant, but pauses once she realizes what the message on the screen says. Space Station Athena. That's not a name she recognizes... and the message goes on about 'myths' and telepaths... the message is utter nonsense, from the look of it. She resolves to look into 'Space Station Athena' and 'Odysseus Morgan' when she gets back to someplace civilized.
She turns back to Gallant, putting on her charming smile again, keeping her voice low and her eyes on the Andalite. "The Yeerks wish to travel the stars and to grow into the proud race we are capable of being. The Andalites would keep us confined to our world." She jabs a finger at Zaretil as she says the word 'Andalite,' the edge of anger slurring her voice.
Vixen stares, aghast, as Mar, and then Ike, casually enter the bar as though it were nothing. He frowns, Gallant and the weird blue centaur-thing forgotten for the moment, and he steps up behind Ike, his height and his antlers all but dwarfing the man. He sniffs Ike's shoulder once and wrinkles his nose, frowning.
-
Ike turned to see the reindeer right next to him. He remembered the deer showing up right when the Venvolar disappeared, and thought he heard it talk. Obviously he was still here when Ike came back. "Uh, hi? Name's Ike. Do you drink?"
Jocun enjoyed his drink as he watched the crowd. The controller was talking to someone about the Andalite. Possibly a Human. He couldn't make out all she was saying, since she was apparently not trying to be too vocal. Probably for the best, given how close they were. Andalites were known for their fast tail blades.
He wasn't sure what to make of the reindeer, though. It seemed a normal sort, but he couldn't imagine it being a very practical pet. Unless the Bar had native fauna now.
-
Vixen continues to glare at Ike, puzzling. "Oh, no doubt," he offers, his nose twitching. "Tell me, Ike, how's a down-home boy like you end up hanging around with... whatever that is," he nodded towards the Andalite, "without so much as batting an eye?"
-
"Says the talking deer." Ike said quietly as he sipped his drink. "My people have been flying through space for quite some time. We've seen lots of things, including Andalites." He was obviously more put off by Vixen than by the Andalite. Despite looking like an animal native to Earth, most humans wouldn't imagine any sentient ones. He was even sure if Santa's flying reindeer were meant to be sentient. "Bartender, get my friend something to drink. On me." He said, producing some money from his pocket.
-
Mar smiles pleasantly at the familiar and at Ike. It was nice to have friends for a change. Although....he wasn't certain what he was supposed to be doing here, and this Bar made him very uneasy. Its unnatural aura reminded him of a....a part of him? No, obviously a memory. And it was not quite his own-- too wild and alien. He had always presumed himself civilized. Odd that his savior was a country bumpkin.
"However did you come to this place?" says Mar to Vixen, with a bit of a shrug. "I mean, did you teleport or fly? Or is your transport right here? Most people who cross through the area have something human in feature about them, making you the odd one out."
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Elriss' statement sounded like a recited piece of propaganda, so Gallant highly doubted it was the entire truth. However, there was also a hint of conviction in her slurred speech. It was becoming obvious that this organization the Yeerks were a part of was a country, and that they were at war with....a blue deer. Gallant rubbed his forehead. "This is....quite possibly the strangest place I've ever been to," Gallant says with a bit of a shrug. "Although I'm admittedly disappointed. I do not think I can 'join' a country, precisely."
-
Vixen narrows his eyes and frowns as Ike offers to buy him a drink. "Man, and I was wondering why I got dropped here. This place is just crawling with..." he sniffs at Ike again. "With whatever you are." He turns his head to the bartender, "I'll just have water. Don't go freakin' out on me about the talkin' deer now," he jokes, noting the bartender's unmistakably indifferent attitude.
He again turns and sniffs at Ike, looking a little confused. Finally he sighs. "I guess I might be overreacting. A little. There's something about you I just can't..." After a moment, he shrugs. "So... what'd you say that thing was? An Andalite? What is that supposed to be, some kind of weird magic centaur with..."
His words are cut short, however, when he notices Mar. "Well well. What do we have here?" he asks, sniffing the air around Mar, his face again growing stern. "I used the gate. The gate passed to us by the old ones," he answers absently, as his eyes continue to scrutinize Mar, down to the smallest detail. "I was wondering why it thought it was worth dropping me down just for that... thing. Maybe I ought to be asking you, though. What is it you're doing here? And how'd you get here?" He turns back to Ike, "I musta been smelling him after all. This won't take long."
"You're telling me," Elriss mutters to Gallant. "Never been somewhere quite... quite like this." When he talks about not being able to join a country, she smirks and tosses her hair. She's still on alert, but that doesn't mean she can't be a little... social as well.
"Hon," she says, her eyes roving down his form, "I'm sure you'll have no trouble joining my country."
-
Mar wondered what "old ones," Vixen meant, as in his experience there were many Old Ones. Still it wasn't his business, and anything too similar to his former life gave him a bad taste in his mouth. It was over, and there was no need to remember it. Someone else could do the entire dirty business without him.
"I was here to look for two old friends of mine," says Mar with a playful shrug. "I can only seem to find them here, and at the time they were the only two friends I had. Yet I now am free of that, and presumably am here to do the work of my Father. And presumably find out what in the world this Bar truly is. As for how I got here..."
Mar grins, as if imparting a great secret. He seems younger somehow, after performing Ike's ritual. "See, there are these holes in the world. If you're a warlock you can see them, and just walk right on through to somewhere else. It's easy."
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Gallant leans in with a smirk and says rather seductively, "I do hope it is a unique and glorious country, dear. I have ever so wanted to explore new places."
The pleasure of the strange woman's company truly wasn't bad at all. She and her companions seemed to be of little threat, afraid as they were of a monster race and paranoid to speak their true intentions. They had all the air of a group of people who thought they held a great secret but were of little importance. The monster didn't seem particularly brilliant either, running in deliriously and asking for a shredder. Gallant hoped there was someone in this war with two brain cells to rub together.
"What do you have to do in this country-changing ritual, exactly?" says Gallant. "Light candles? Swear fealty?"
-
((Testing.... Sorry. Som of my posts get lagged out))
-
Jerichi walks into the bar, wearing a United Religarian Trading shirt+cap, his tripod clawed feet, clawed five fingered hands, falcon-like head, and tannish-gray scales make him look menacing. His Shock Pistol on his side doesn't help with his look either. But if you look at his eyes you can see a glint of good mood in them. He scans the room and finds a open table and sits down. He seems a bit tired. Jerichi watches the door intently
-
Jerichi shakes his head and gets up, his mood downing slightly. He orders a drink from the bartender and looks for a place to sit. He looks around and takes a seat nearby Jocun
-
"Well, you're a face I haven't seen before." Jocun said, brought out of thought by someone who sat near him. The creature didn't speak to him, but perhaps was waiting to see if Jocun would speak up. "You may call me Jocun if you're familiar with Yeerks. Simon if you aren't. Have you been here before?"
-
Jerichi turns his head toward Jocun, looking up from his drink. "Yes... Im familiar with the Yeerks. And no. I haven't been here before. A old friend of mine was supposed to be coming. But it seems like he is a no show."
-
Jerichi takes a drink, then puts his cup down. "My name is Jerichi. why did you come out here?"
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(Try not to double post. Just hit the edit button)
"I've been here before, looking for a spot to vacation where I'm not widely known. This time I came because I thought I might see a few people I met before. Besides, it's quite an interesting place. Space and time converge to bring all sorts of things here that would otherwise never meet. I can tell that two other controllers are here, but can't be sure if they're from my time or dimension."
"I think the entity that surrounds the bar may be the one who decides if someone finds this place or not. Not that I know much about the secrets of this place. The bartender never speaks, but he takes and money and will serve anything you want. Not the cleanest stuff, but it is good."
-
(Oops.... Yeh. That was my bad on my part)
"Yes... I agree. There is defenetly something about this place. I may have to stick around for a bit.... A pleasure to meet you by the way. If you do not plan on having your buddy's nab me and put one of you in my head"
-
Jocun chuckled a bit at the last comment. "I promise I won't sneak a Yeerk into your head. I'm actually from a timeline where the war is over, and involuntary infestation is quite illegal. Partners for Yeerks are raised in a system where they have rights, and are given a Yeerk that will respect those rights as sentient beings. Of course this is just my word, so take it with a grain of salt if you want."
"I considered bringing a bodyguard here, as I did come under some danger the last time I came, but my guards tend to be quite serious and may actually cause more problems than they prevent."
-
"Hmm.... Il take your word for it. I share your feelings on bodyguards. Considering most from where I come from are paid, and I don't put much trust in coin. The only bodyguard I trust is the one I have strapped to my side these days. Unfourtunetly I have been needing to use it more and more lately."
-
"Unfortunately it's hard to find someone who can't be bought out with a big enough pile of currency. I do have to be diligent, but I think I've done a pretty good job of weeding out corruption here and there. I have my trusty sidearm too, though I also have a trick or two that people from a warring timeline may not expect."
"As you can imagine, my partner's name is Simon. He's a good guy. We get along quite well."
-
"So, Jocun. Sense your not from a warring timeline, what are your opinions on the Andalites?" Jerichi fixes his cap and takes another drink
-
"Andalites, like many species, have their good and bad points. They still think pretty highly of themselves, even though their people lost the war. Partly because much of the technology Yeerks used to wage the war was Andalite technology anyway. They are a serious people, though sometimes they can have fun too. To be honest, they haven't changed much in a hundred years, aside from being less haughty, and thinking they're automatically better than other species. In general, at least."
"What about your species?"
-
"My species? we were generally peaceful and tried not to go to war. But things changed allot in the past couple years.... My species where almost wiped off the face of our home world. I have been on my own for some time now. I came here today because I was supposed to be receiving good news from my father. But, it seems like he didn't make it out here... why did my species turn on itself? Its quite simple. Power. Our "leader", Haneralis Sterilif, believed that only a certain kind of my race deserved to live. Those who where born of privilege, wealth.... My father fought to stop this. My mother, she disappeared before I left world. I felt like a coward leaving my father behind... But I know now that if I stayed I would have met the fate of my mother and father."
-
"I'm sorry to hear that. Humans like Simon are quite warlike, and the Council of Thirteen of the Yeerk Empire attempted to control the galaxy by convincing everyone that we were the masters, and dissent was met with death. Quick if you're lucky. Fortunately it isn't the easiest thing to convince a race that they are the chosen species when we're practically nothing without our hosts. There is conflict with every species. The only one I've heard of that went through their entire existence without conflict was artificially created."
"Are you worried that an enemy force might come here? I don't know if this place has ever been invaded before. There's probably something that would keep that from happening." He turned to the bartender. "What do you say? Give us a nod or shake?"
The bartender gave no response, and continued wiping the table.
"You know there are wonderful avenues through sign language."
No response.
-
"Yes, it seems like conflict is unavoidable with any species. No matter how hard one may try. Then aegean conflict has the potential to strengthen a species. Making bonds formed through struggle that can last a lifetime."
-
"Battle forged friends. Few things are better at helping people stick together than fighting a mutual enemy to prevent mutual destruction." Jocun said. Jerichi hadn't said if he thought a hostile force may follow him and his friend, but perhaps he honestly didn't know.
-
"And about hostile forces following me here.... My best hope is that they stay on-planet with the war. Hopefully I'm out of the grasp of them at least for the time being"
-
"That's good. Some people that come here are pretty powerful on their own, but some just get whisked here without anything beyond the clothes on their back. Of course I can call my own forces, but hopefully that won't be needed. This is a hangout for Yeerk rebels that are fighting the war, and they may react poorly if Andalite or Leeran controllers start showing up. Much less Hork-Bajir."
"Before you ask, I'm afraid I can't spare them to go to your planet and stop the war. I'd need government clearance, and there would be a lot of red tape involved. That is, if your planet isn't in some totally different dimension or timeline.
-
"I understand. Im not sure how my people would react to an off world military intervention. There have been.... Misunderstandings. In the past concerning off world militaries."
-
"Not too surprising. As in tune with empathy as some people can be, sending a military force to another planet that's not in my government's jurisdiction would definitely raise some heads and suspicions on all sides. Even after a hundred years, many Yeerks are not eager to jump into another war."
-
Jerichi nods. "I can't help but wonder the point of my worlds conflict... The way I see it, we are all the same no matter if you are born into poverty or privilege. I can only hope that things will eventually settle down... To be completely honest, I want to go back. But I'm not sure if I have anything left back there anymore."
-
"Wherever someone lives, their home is a special place to them. Simon was actually born on the Andalite Homeworld, and he finds it more comfortable than Earth. There are many reason for war. Some more justified than others. It seems the less involved someone is in war, the more they're likely to see it as a beneficial thing, and vice versa. I'm sure someone will convince them that lives are not to be paid like credits in the market."
-
"I hope so... One day I will return to my home world. Maybe then my world will feel like home" Jerichi sighs. "Thank you for sharing this conversation. It has been a long while sense someone showed enough curdisy to do so"
-
"You're very welcome. I am always willing to have a nice conversation with people, though not everyone has been interested in having one with me. I remember this one guy that had some sort of problem with me talking to a friend of his. Granted I was eavesdropping before they noticed me, and his friend's response was to introduce myself or leave, and he made it obvious that he would prefer I had just left. I think I actually hit it off reasonably well with her, though she did have some emotional issues in her life. War is hard on many."
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Jerichi nods. "Yes, war can be very hard on a person. No matter how hardened they may be disciplinary-wise or psychologically."
"What are your plans going on from now? Is there any place out there that you are planning on going to? Or do you wander from place to place like myself?"
-
"I come here mostly to get away from the stresses of life. Though I did take a little adventure through a portal from here to help someone. I almost died, actually. It was probably a stupid thing to do, especially since I'm responsible for helping to run an Empire, but what's done is done. I don't have definite plans."
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"I see. my plans are to explore as much of the galaxy as possible. Just the lure of knowing that there is always something more makes me want to do it. Not that I have anything else to do anyways... Im on my own as you know by now. And who knows, maybe one day il find a place to settle. But I have a feeling that it will be a long ways away."
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"I'm sure you'll find a suitable home somewhere. You may find this place interesting enough for a while. What kind of habitat are you used to, anyway?"
-
"I am used to the desert climate, my home world is completely covered in a sea of sand."
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"The Taxxon Homeworld is similar to that. Vast, sprawling continents of desert. Of course when the native sentient life has a nigh uncontrollable urge to feed, and can eat just about anything, it's not too surprising. The only place where they're settled is special hives that are made of mounds of Taxxons. we've yet to really understand how they work, or how to replicate it for individuals outside their homeworld."
-
"Hmm.... Interesting, yet slightly unsettling"
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"Taxxons are weird. Though maybe worms that live in the heads of other creatures could be called weird too. Then you have the mammals that have no mouths, and eat through their hooves, and intelligent apes with almost no hair that walk completely upright. You could probably have a whole conversation about the oddities of different sentients."
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Jerichi lets out a chuckle. "That you could my friend, that you could"
-
"Mmm..." murmers Vixen, the tips of his antlers again beginning to glow white. "But you're not a warlock, are you?" he asks Mar. "You're something much darker." He again sniffs the strange man. "See, I thought that stench was coming from him," he says, nodding towards Ike, then frowns. "I'm still not sure it wasn't. But right now, see, it's coming from you." He sniffs, and his confidence seems to falter. "Sorta. And since I don't get to go home until this place is cleansed, I think we oughtta get this over with." He snarls, the glow intensifying, "Now hold still,"
For a moment, the shadows in the room seem to flit across the floor, spots of otherwise-steady light momentarily flickering like a candle. A draft... a chill... seems to fill the room from nowhere, but there's nought else to be seen.
Elriss watches, still cautious, as a newcomer enters and begins speaking with the man sitting alone at the bar. With a sigh, she turns more of her attention to Gallant. The Andalite doesn't seem particularly threatening at the moment. She does not, however, holster her weapon.
"We usually don't light candles or swear fealty when someone decides to join us," she says, reaching out to grab his shirt collar and drag him gently closer, "but if you like, we can make an exception. See, all we really need is for you to form a very... intimate bond with one of our..." she smirks, "countrymen." She smiles and shrugs, stepping back, "Join us, and you'll get to explore places you never even thought existed."
-
"Oh no you don't" Ike said. He didn't want what happened to Venvolar to happen to Mar. The thing was, this was a big deer. It wasn't like he could just throw it across the room. He said some short words, and placed his palms on the deer's side. tiny black dots swarmed across the fur like ants, and as they spread, they attempted to sting the creature. Spreading all around, they were meant to seek out soft flesh and cause pain. Honestly it wasn't all real, but the initial shock would usually cause someone to think it was real and react accordingly.
"Mar, get out of here!"
The being that inhabited Mar now certainly didn't like the idea of disappearing, and would allow Mar some extra strength and reflexes to get out of the way. It would also supply some mass to use magic, despite having no clear connection to the greater being in this place.
-
A shudder runs through Mar-- He knows this feeling like he knows the back of his own hand. For reasons that are still vague he doesn't believe he has anything to fear from a creature in command of it, but he knows whatever occurs will....he has to go. He has to. He just can't go back.
Ike's sudden callout to him snaps Mar back into attention. He looks at Ike worriedly, not believing his brethren to be any safer than him! In fact less so--- but why was that? Mar didn't have time to figure it out. He hurriedly crosses the room and slams open the Bar door, darting outside. Mar then backs up against the Bar's wall, breathing in and out. He did not use any magic.
In fact, he was hoping he'd never have to touch his magic ever again. It was better to serve God.
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"Will I get to explore you?" Gallant says with a slight grin as she pulls him closer. It certainly sounded like a fun way to spend an afternoon---he was far more certain of that than he was of joining these Yeerks. What in the world did she mean? ....hmm. Something certainly dangerous, which might result in the loss of his life or freedom. Clearly it was one or the other.
"Actually..." Gallant pauses, having a sudden idea. As a test, it wasn't bad. "...that would work. Yes."
"Would you so terribly mind if the companion I joined with was you?" Gallant said, nearly breathing into her ear. "That would prove it isn't dangerous."
-
Vixen yelps-- a high pitched, strangely human sound-- and dances backwards across the bar in shock, his antlers ceasing to glow, when Ike's... dots... swarm across his fur. He slams into the wall, causing the whole building to shudder, and begins violently scratching his flanks on it, up and down.
By the time the itching stops and he regains his composure, he's panting, and the dark creature he's sensed has disappeared from the room.
"What'd I ever do to you!?" he shouts at Ike.
The shadows in the bar all at once seem to drift towards the back hallway, drawing themselves out and gathering together in a space that was already too dark to see clearly into. Moments later, however, all the shadows seem to have returned to normal.
"Mmm," says Elriss, smirking as though she's enjoying some private joke. "If I can find the materials I need in order to perform the... ceremony..." she eyes him up and down and leaning closer, "I think I could bond with you, sure."
<<You might not have to infest me if you're going to be him,>> says her host.
<<Hon, I'm in your head. I know you're not that drunk,>> Elriss responds.
<<How would your fellow Yeerks like to know you're calling them 'materials'?>> shoots Rose angrily.
<<I could just as easily have meant a restraint system for you,>> replies Elriss with a snicker.
<<Die in a fire, you filthy worm.>>
"You might get to..." she leans closer to Gallant and whispers in his ear, "explore me a bit." She traces a line with her finger, across his shoulder and down his back, ever-so gently, "But probably not nearly as thoroughly as I'd get to explore you." She grins. Oh, does he smell nice.
-
Ike had backed towards the door while Vixen was backing against the wall. "Stay away from my friend." He said menacingly. A bit more menacingly that he intended, as the being inside him was attempting to protect its own. Now that it had a new toy, it wouldn't let go so easily. Ike ran out the door, closing it behind him.
"We might want to hide." He said to Mar.
Jocun rose as the beast started acting wild. he didn't really know what happened, but the human somehow got a bunch of bugs on him. As he backed up, he almost bumped into Gallant. "Sorry about that. Now everyone stay calm. You, deer, I believe need to relax. Whatever you did, perhaps don't do it again."
"Sorry again. Jocun 119. Nice to meet you two."
-
"Well... crap," mutters Vixen to himself as he watches Ike run for the door. "The dark thing's made friends. I might have to do this the hard way." He sniffs the air and wrinkles his nose when he catches a whiff of Ike again. "Hmm..."
He turns to the man that begins speaking to him, "I'm relaxed, man, but I got a job to do. I'm here on business." He sighs and glances again towards the door before turning his full attention back to the man who's calling himself 'Jocun 119.' "The name's Vixen," he says amiably. "Nice to meet you too, Jocun 119. That's... a pretty unusual name. Where you from? Mind if I just call you Jo?"
-
"In my society, they give you a name, and a number according to how many pool brothers you have." Jocun said. "In all honesty, the person you're looking at is a human named Simon. There's another guy named Jocun that's using him as a ride. May I ask what your business is, and why you're messing with other patrons?"
<And if he know Santa Clause?> Simon asked jokingly.
<Shh.> Jocun said.
-
"Really?" states Mar with an almost scoffing look at Ike when he appears outside. "I was once a warrior where I was from, practically a captain of the Guard. To be sure the creature has strange powers, but why would we need to run?"
He wasn't even sure what the animal's problem was, but it definitely seemed to be bothering Ike. He decided that he wasn't fond of people who bothered Ike--- The snot-nosed human had gotten him back---Mar rubbed his head, a shooting pain echoing through it. Someone was trying to tell him something important.
He dearly hoped They would go away.
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Gallant grins in response to the woman's advances. "Any ritual which involves...explorin g your depths can't be all ba----"
Gallant suddenly turns as another man bumps into him! Gallant mutters, "Terribly sorry" as an almost subconscious gesture of politeness before looking up at the interloper. He didn't seem to be of the same class as the beautiful woman, whoever he was. Although she was very drunk.
"Gallant Regale, lovely to meet you," states Gallant with a smile after Jocun introduces himself. "You seem to be able to handle the...eccentricitie s of this place well."
And it was true. Gallant hadn't quite worked up the guts to try and make sense of the reindeer familiar.
-
"Maybe you're right, Mar." Ike said. "I have said that I have ways to defend myself, so maybe I should use them. We just have to be ready for him, and not let him vaporize whoever he sees fit."
"Yeah, it's pretty weird around here. You just have to go with the flow." Jocun said.
-
"I'll say it's weird," says Vixen, sniffing at 'Jocun.' "This place gets weirder by the minute. What the heck are you talkin' about? In your society, you get number-names and you're really two people and your name is Simon but it isn't? Are you full of darkness, too?" His nose twitches and his face twists. He looks positively bewildered. "No, no, that's not what you are. Man, what is going on around here? Where the heck have I ended up? What kind of society gives their people number-names?"
Elriss glares at the galumphing reindeer. It's absolutely stepping on her attempt to pick up this cute... future host for the Empire.
"You're a Yeerk, then," she says directly to Jocun, taking on an authoritative air. "I am Temser 2 of the Light in the Darkness. Tell me, who is your commander?" She speaks quickly, not slurring her speech very much at all.
<<I hope he's your superior and he throws you off a building for being drunk,>> says her host.
<<Dream on, honey,>> Elriss says in return.
-
"Don't worry about it, buddy." Jocun said to the deer. "I'm pretty sure I'm not full of darkness, but this bar you're in is a strange place. I suggest trying not to make enemies."
He turned to the woman who was apparently faking being drunk. "If you don't recognize this host, you're likely not from my universe, or at least timeframe. I am Visser One of the Yeerk Empire, one hundred years after the Andalite/Yeerk War. I can safely say that we don't have a Temser of the Light in the Darkness. Much less a Temser 2."
-
"Not make enemies?" Vixen repeats, looking scrutinizingly at Jocun. "Look, man, I didn't choose to come here. I don't really have any control over that, not since..." he pauses, then sighs. "I guess if they mean that much to you, I could do this the hard way and just banish them. But I gotta do it. Job to complete." He shrugs apologetically.
Elriss snorts derisively as Jocun goes on about being Visser One. "I know Visser One," she says with a sneer, "And you ain't her." She leans in and lowers her voice, "I don't know what kind of racket this place is running," she looks around, "but when I bring the Light here, you can bet it won't last long." The speed with which she's gone from friendly and curious to angry at Jocun is shocking... and perhaps slightly driven by her persisting intoxication.
-
"Look, this place is a strange area of different times and dimensions." Jocun said to Elriss. "If you spend enough time here, you'll find some people are just not what you'd expect. I am a different Visser One than you know, and the being that actually controls this place isn't likely to let anyone come here in force and take over. It just won't happen."
He thought that maybe this Imperial may need a bit more to convince her to tread carefully, so he decided to morph. Just in the face, though, letting it turn more animalistic and slitted eyes, and green scales. A hundred years ago, someone with this sort of control would be called an estreen, and considered rare. With the upgrades, this kind of control was more common, and faster. He could fully morph in about thirty seconds, when Andalites used to take about three minutes. "Don't think yourself too highly here, Temser 2." He said in a different voice. "You don't have as much power here as you think."
He reverted back and turned towards the deer. "Do what you think you have to. This warning can go for you too. The Bar is a strange place, and you may not be able to get away with things here that you could elsewhere."
-
Among the discarded hulks of destroyed or forgotten ships in front of an old building, a strange wall of electric white light appears in the air. The edges of the wall seem to take the shape of two halves of a gate opening to a strange scene between them. A lush forest can be seen in the bottom half as though the image source is hovering above the trees. The scene displays a bright blue sky and mountains in the distance. Suddenly, a loud terrifying roar comes from the scene that would cause most to flee. A bout of fire explodes out of the “gate” and causes the dirt below it to glow red hot and solidify. Seconds later, a large winter chill exudes from the “gate”. A loud impact can be heard along with the sound of crumpling trees and another roar, this one however sounded more like a cry of the defeated. Cheers of two people can be heard in the distance.
To anyone curious enough to approach the gate, or trying to keep their distance while spying through at an angle, can see two Human males hovering in the middle of the air aloft a large ornate carpet. Beside the two men, also hovering mid-air, can be seen a Huge silvered scale reptile with wings beating slowly to keep its massive form in place. Those with knowledge of Human mythology can instantly recognize the creature as a dragon. Anyone looking downward would see, amongst toppled trees, the form of another scaled reptile Humans name “dragons”. This one, however, has red scales and looks very dissimilar to the one hovering in the air. The Human males grasp forearms in victorious celebration. They approach the huge silvered creature as though it holds no fear in their hearts.
Suddenly a deeper, more distant, pained roar is heard as the two males whip their head behind them toward the mountains and the silvered dragon repositions itself. From the mountain top, a red winged reptilian form can be seen. This one measured as thrice the size of the silvered flying creature. The Colossal dragon beats its wings and takes flight. The two males shake their heads violently and their carpet zooms toward the “gate”, silver dragon in tow. The three beings approach faster and faster. One of the men, draped in robes, withdraws a bright cube from his bag and presses one side moments before they all seem to breach the “wall” of light. As the three reach the “wall”, the entire scene explodes in blinding flash of light and a single silhouette flies forward, tumbling onto the ground.
The “gate” disappears and at the end of glass-hardened dirt and melted rock kneels a man clad in steel plated armor from shoulder to shin. Over his cloak, hangs a quiver crossed by a large bow of ancient design and a steel shield aside them with an odd engraving upon it. It depicts a wolf howling upward to a full moon. As he stands cautiously, the same engraving can be sighted on his breastplate. At his sides are two swords of different size and design, one barely reaches his knees, as the other is forcibly tilted backward with some length. Were it allowed to hang freely, it would surely reach the ground. In strategic places on his person, within arms’ reach, several small blades are stored. The man looks around through his bright green eyes. It’s obvious he is lost and confused. He brushes dust out of his short golden brown hair and asserts himself. He looks behind, from where he came, and looks at the affected ground. He scratches his head as he raises his head and freezes. His eyes lock on the strange metallic husks before him. He absent-mindedly walks over the glass, cracking it as he steps, to one hollowed ship almost in the form of a scorpion. He stares at it in wonder.
-
"Then I'll jus' have to take what I can from this place, won't I?" Elriss replies to Jocun, her voice and her glare turning steely.
Vixen, however, seems to be taking Jocun's warning a little more seriously. "Yeah, there's something... weird about this place," he agrees. "Doesn't change what has to be done, but there's something not right here. I can feel it."
Elriss snorts and mutters, "the talking deer thinks the future Visser is right about a magical nexus of reality being 'off.' Go figure." She turns to Jocun and raises her voice, "You're a little full of yourself, Visser," she practically spits the word. "You think that just because you're from a version of my future that you can..."
She's interrupted by a deafening roar from outside, and makes her way to the window just in time to see a jet of flame spew forth out of nowhere, scorching the ground red and glowing. She must be seeing things... but there's no way she's still that drunk... is there?
Vixen steps up to the next window over and whistles, "I'll be damned. That's a dragon. Pretty sure dragons don't exist, man..."
Elriss rolls her eyes and turns away, just in time to miss the 'gateway' exploding outward and the body flying through.
"Whoa!" yells Vixen, turning towards the door. "Guy could be hurt. You comin' Jocun?" he calls over his shoulder, already on his way out the door.
Elriss watches him leave, nonplussed, and turns back to Gallant. She steps just a little too close and rests a hand gently on his shoulder. "At least you're normal, hon," she says sweetly, her eyes sweeping down his figure. She plucks gently at his vest and smirks, "Mostly..."
-
The armored man approaches the decrepit hull and touches it softly. He looks around at the shape and exhales, “What is this strange construct?” He runs his gauntleted hand along the ship as he moves to the front and rear, inspecting the odd vehicle. He shakes his head confounded, “Too small to be a home, too large and ill-equipped to be a carriage.” He looks at the “tail” of the ship, “What in the world could that be?”
The man breaks his enchantment as he looks across the parking lot and sees a wooden building among all the metallic husks. The establishment is obviously a tavern of some sort, with a few patrons staring in his direction. He straightens himself and walks to the tavern’s front door. He’s stopped with an odd looking deer standing in the doorway. He pauses a moment, searching his mind. He lifts his chin, almost as though he now recognized the creature. He looked around for anyone, “What are you doing inside a tavern, strange magical creature?” He reaches out to place a hand upon the animal’s face, hoping to keep the animal calm and form a connection. He’d never worked with animals other than his recently obtained hound; and that situation was hugely different than this. He’d seen his friend Steve connect with animals, so he thought he’d give it a try.
-
A bright flare of light crosses the evening sky outside as a black and silver ship pierces the bar planetoid's atmosphere at a fairly steep angle. The ship's shields glow bright purple as do its twin engines. The thing is shaped somewhat like a swept out arrow-head with blasters jutting forward on the tip of each wing. The nose of the craft comes a bit further forward than the two wing blasters, and obviously contains the ****pit. The pilot doesn't bother to engage the ship's camouflage...there was no point, there was no prey here.
The ship touches down a bit out in the forest, not far from where it had landed before, but still closer. No point in hiding when there was nothing to stalk. The pilot sighs as he shuts the ship down, lowering the rearward-facing ramp. The pilot's seat swivels 180 degrees and the pilot stands, running a hand over his rifle above the exit before stepping down to land.
The green grass crunches a bit underneath his flex-armor leather boots. He makes sure his weapons are tucked securely in place before turning in the direction of that strange wooden shack and walking. His demeanor is a bit more surly than before...grumpy would be a good way to describe it. His aqua and silver eyes glow in the twilight of the forest as he approaches the building, long hair drawn into a ponytail behind his pointed ears, fluttering lightly in the breeze. What else was there? At least this place had every kind of liquor known in the Universe...maybe the company would be better this time around.
As he approaches the building, he notes a strange, armor-clad man standing near the doorway petting a...a deer? He blinks his eyes a couple of times to confirm the sight, then shakes his head and makes his way toward the establishment. He isn't familiar with the armor the man is wearing, though the man seems to be a human. How odd this place could be. He steps up beside the man and gives him a cursory glance before pushing past muttering a half-hearted "apologies."
He notes some humans, some Yeerks...but no one he recognizes. It isn't as if he'd actually believed Tobias would be here. The bastard had up and jetted on him, leaving him tied down to his own damn mortality. Tobias had been amenable to his advances, and the two had eventually engaged in a relationship both physical and emotional...but then he was gone. Left him squatting on Cirrin 94 with nothing but his ship. He growls with a semi-feral anger that's had a good deal of time to mature and fester. They hadn't even carried out the contract on the Electorate Tobias had been talking so avidly about.
He stalks up to the bar and before he can even say a word, a tall, silvery glass of miruvin is already sitting there waiting for him. He snarls at the BT who only smiles darkly, eyes twinkling. He grabs the glass and gulps half of it, his throat burning for his actions, but he doesn't care. Inebriation is his only means of escape, and he means to have it. Certainly he isn't mourning over the betrayal by that bastard...no, that couldn't be it. He doesn't allow himself to become emotionally involved with others, why should such a petty act have any reason to bother him at all? He takes another swig from the tall, fluted glass as his free hand subconsciously moves up to caress the hilt of one of his gracefully-curved fighting blades. The BT's eyes glint again in that mischievous and disturbing way...he frowns in response. Well, at least the Bar itself remembers Rathien d’ilarianiil fen’Mirwindrierien or’Elienal sen’Ildiar.
-
Vixen takes a small step back from the odd man in steel armor, putting himself just out of reach. "Whoa. Gettin' a little friendly there," he says. "I only just met you. At least buy me a drink first." He grins at his own wit. "You alright, man? I saw you come flying through a... flying into the ground. With fire and stuff." He sniffs the man and tilts his head. An unusual smell, but nothing bad necessarily.
He can't say the same for the other, the one that ducks around his antlers to enter the bar. A second or two after this one has passed, he catches a whiff of him. Pungent, and not right... and very subtly, he thinks, so faint it's barely there, he smells what might be blood. If there's something more, some deeper darkness hiding amidst this one's smells, he's not gotten enough from this quick whiff to pin it down, but this particular man doesn't need to smell of darkness to make him uncomfortable...
Elriss turns her head when someone new enters, and she frowns. An Ildari. And a familiar-looking one, at that... though she can't place him. She moves towards the bar, trailing her fingers ever-so-gently across Gallant's chest and shoulder as she does so, and throws a flirtatious smirk over her shoulder.
She takes a seat at the stool closest to the Ildari. She's finally beginning to sober up a bit, and she's torn between ordering another redin to get her buzz back and becoming a bit more coherent.
"Water, please, hon," she says to the bartender after a moment's hesitation. To the Ildari she says nothing, intending to wait a bit, to allow him to speak first, should he so choose.
The bar's shadows seem collectively... unsure of what to do with themselves... if that's possible. It's not something that's seen so much as felt.
The shadows flicker, as though someone has run in front of all the light sources at once, but it happens so quickly that the bar's patrons can't be sure if it's something they've actually seen...
-
Rathien watches the human female warily out of the corner of his eye, though not turning his face at all. He quickly drains the rest of the glass and slaps it down on the bar-counter, another already waiting for him. He picks it up without thought and takes a long swig. Miruvin was meant to be imbibed with sips and savored...Rathien chuckles to himself as he takes another long swig, the second glass already half empty. He grunts suddenly and digs the claws on his free hand into the bar counter as his head flares with pain. Quick scenes play through his head in what seems a strange, hurried pantomime...he'd spoken with this woman, or at least these strange visions said he had. Here, in this bar, near this very spot. A conversation about the Light..but that seems...impossible. He's been away for months...
Just as suddenly as it came on, the sensation of pain passes, leaving Rathien gasping quietly, sweat dripping from his face to the bar counter, his eyes wide. His expression of surprise and pain returns to his normal expression of late...internally pissed-off, before he covers it up with a mask of sullen disinterest. He extricates his claws from the bar counter and downs the rest of his second glass, the third standing next to the first empty, ready to be imbibed. He ignores the BT's dark grin. Don't think...drink. "Temser."
-
The armored man retracts his hand immediately at the reindeer's speech. "It speaks. Not entirely outside the realm of possibility, rare though it is." He considers the words of the creature as another person pushes past them. He looks elven in nature. The armored man ignores his slight rudeness as he did subtly apologize for not waiting for the reindeer to remove itself. He then answers the creature, "I am fine. Though I am not trained in acrobatics, and my armor hampers my movements only slightly," he says as he raps his knuckles on the shining breast plate, "I am still quite dexterous. The apparition I came through is called a 'Gate'... as per the spell of the same name. It seems my charge nor the dragon we meant to save came through with me; and my friend is the only one with the means to conjure such a 'Gate'. It seems as I am stranded here. Wherever 'here' is." The man looks further in the bar past the deer and asks, "Where is here anyhow?"
-
For a few moments, Elriss has an intense sensation of deja vu. This... being at this place... speaking with this... Ildari... it seems familiar. Very familiar. Her head swims with the intensity of the feeling, and she buries her face in her hands, but within moments the feeling has passed.
"Hunter," she replies through her teeth. She rubs her eyes and turns to face him, looking him up and down. "You are one of Temser One's pet humters, aren't you? So how's someone like you stumble onto a place like this?" Her flirtatious demeanor has all but evaporated, leaving a cold, condescending, businesslike aura in its place.
"I have no idea what you just said, but it sounded good," says Vixen to the newcomer. "To be honest, I couldn't tell you where we are if I wanted to. I'm just here on a job. I don't really get to pick the destinations. Just get the report and then, poof! I'm in Prague or Beijing or Denver blowin' something up. Boss-man says there's a darkness rising in the world or something. Some kind of magic ghost told him so." He chuckles, "Now, I don't know about all that, but when the boss-man says fly, it's my job to say 'how far?' Besides," he shakes himself, grinning, "I don't mind having extra things to do in the off-season."
He turns to head back inside, satisfied that this man has survived... whatever just happened. "Name's Vixen, by the way, and I..." he stops and turns to look back at the man, a concerned look on his face. "Wait, did you say 'dragon'?"
-
The armored man tilts his head quizzically, obviously perturbed by what the magical beast had just said. He nods in response to the creature's question, "Yes. We were in the process of saving a Silver Dragon from being slain by a far more powerful Red Dragon. What do you mean you blow things up? What type of special attacks do you possess? I don't know much about reindeer. I thought you were mostly known for your enduring perfect flight abilities."
Even though he was quite entranced by the strange conversation, he looked at both sides of the doorway, seeing no way to move past the reindeer. He looks slightly impatient despite not wanting to be rude and push through the strange deer.
-
Rathien squints his eyes, still not making eye-contact with the Yeerk. "Pet? Must you Yeerks reduce every possible interaction into some sort of sado-masochistic master-slave relationship? A wolf has no master, and is certainly no one's 'pet.'" He takes a long swig from his third glass and runs his tongue over a fang in thought. "As with most of my destinations, this one was arrived at in pursuit of prey. Most recently, I've returned because I wanted miruvin and this is the only place beyond Ildiar where I've ever found it."
He sneers a bit, eyes still staring at the glass of silvery-clear liquid. "It's a shame such a warm-looking, pretty host has been wasted on such a cold, soulless Yeerk. Flesh like that should be appreciated in the right way." He chuckles mirthlessly and takes another drink of liquor. It would take at least one more before the effect started to hit him. Then he could forget about Tobias and have a bit of pleasure again if only for a short while.
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Vixen barks out a quick laugh as he finally enters the bar. "I know you've got to be talking in some kind of other language or something. What, is "Dragon" code for, like, some kind of military thing?" He looks the man's armor up and down, "Or... military reenactment thing?" He stops and blinks for a moment, as though coming to a realization, and then laughs again. "Ohhh! You're one of them... what... LARPers? This some kind of Renaissance festival?" He looks around the bar again, as though taking it in for the first time. "Okay, things are starting to make a bit more sense now. For a second you had me going. I know you know better than to believe dragons are real!"
"Yeah, we reindeer... our real schtick is being able to fly. Er... well, some of us. Those of us with magical powers. My family's been able to fly for generations. Also adds this whole 'intelligence' bit." He tilts his head side to side, grinning, "For some of us less than others. These new powers're courtesy of the guy boss-man's talking to these days."
The many points of his antlers flash white, and a beam of light fires from them out the open door behind the newcomer, hitting the ground outside, which explodes upward and outward, showering droplets of molten rock over a portion of the parking area.
Elriss smirks, her eyes flashing with something like amusement. She rests her chin on her hand and stares hard at the Ildari, "Oh, you are the one he's talked about. Right down to the shameless flirtation." She bites her lip, allowing her eyes to rove down his body, before she manages to regain her composure.
"And the prey you followed here... would this be the same target that led me here the first time? The same target that led the Light here?" Her voice grows steely, "The same one that you so-called 'hunters' have continually failed to deliver?"
-
Rathien grits his teeth, finally turning his head to look at Elriss, darkness in his eyes. "It would be unwise for you to bring that ass up right now." He quirks an eyebrow. "Unless, of course, you choose to hear that as a crude double-entendre referring to your host...in which case, feel free to bring that ass up all you want."
He turns his eyes back on the miruvin. He surmises that his original assumption regarding the quantity necessary to affect him is no longer correct. It had been quite some time since he'd had miruvin, and it's proving to be quite effective. For the first time in quite some time, he smiles, though there's no warmth or joy in it. He allows his eyes to look over Elriss's host briefly before polishing off his third glass and grabbing his fourth. Laying with a controlled host held dangers, but as with most things, danger only makes the rest better for Rathien.
He hears an explosion from outside and ignores it. Perhaps it's the miruvin or just his knowledge of the nature of this place...stuff exploded at the bar, that's just the way it was. "Your boss's host at the time had a nice ass too, if memory serves. Of course his was male, but a nice ass is a nice ass and variety is the spice of life." He smirks a bit, still looking at his glass and the bar-counter.
-
As the points light up on the reindeer's antlers, the armored man becomes impressed. Thinking it must be helpful to illuminate the night sky. He is about to comment before an energy beam is unleashed from the collection of those points and aimed straight at himself! He immediately twists his body, spinning to the right, in order to dodge the beam. In his spin, he removes the large one-handed sword with his right hand and the shorter sword with his left. They shine with a magical energy that then siphons down through his arms and covers his full plate armor. He points both swords at the reindeer, keeping a defensive stance. He yells out, "What is the meaning of this?!? You treat me with civility, then attack me?"
-
Mar watches in fascinated interest as both the dragons and a ship containing a person sickeningly familiar touch down on the Bar's grounds. The dragon apparition is clearly an unintended part of the entrance of someone who knows arcane magic, but much else escapes him. And it's not his main concern.
He can see neither up close, but he does not fail to miss a certain elven-esque face like his own! "Trouble," mutters Mar to Ike with a snarl, his peculiar canines showing even in such a serene-looking form. "This can only mean trouble. I have to go back and find out why....well I can't remember his name, but I know he does not mean well."
Mar quickly storms across the field, unnerved by the boiling arrogance and easy temper that come as naturally as...breathing? Shouldn't he not have either. Mar stops, squirming as something inside him attempts to quell these emotions. Mar rubs his head.
He's barely made it back to the entrance when a blast of light's shot out from....the reindeer?! At some person he doesn't recognize. "What, precisely, is happening here?" states Mar, crossing his arms.
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Gallant listens carefully to the exchange between the Yeerk and the peculiar newcomer that's evidently a bounty hunter. He looked somewhat like an elf, but something about his features made it only too clear that he was either Drow or something unknown. He was evidently after a bounty hunter's quarry. What interested him far more, although he could not let this on, was the word "host." So his beautiful lady friend was a spirit...or a parasite.
"You two know one another well enough," states Gallant, his drunkenness seeming to fade in favor of a half sobriety. "Well enough to flirt, that is. Irreverent sir, my name is Gallant Regale. If this place is a kind of gathering ground for the crooked, you are unlikely to find the same filth twice."
-
Rathien glances at the male as he speaks, but the glance turns into an obvious and unashamed physical appraisal as he notes the man's near-stunning aesthetic appeal. Not far off his own looks, in fact, missing only the pointed ears to complete the package. In his toasty state, thinking of the word "package" causes his eyes to remain lasciviously on the man's clothed nethers for a few seconds, running his tongue openly over a fang before he catches himself and redirects his gaze to the man's face.
"I wouldn't say we know each other well...we know of each other, and we know about each other to some extent." He grins winningly as he senses the unvoiced chemistry between this Gallant and the Temser. Perhaps inebriation wouldn't be his only escape. "Quite frankly, sir, I flirt with anyone I find interesting whether I know them or not. Otherwise I have no way of knowing whether or not I'm planting upon fertile ground." He arches an eyebrow, chuckling a bit. "I wouldn't call us "crooked" exactly...interesti ng is a much better term. The bar finds everyone here interesting...that's why we're here at all." He grins again. "Of course, if you meant 'crooked' as opposed to 'sraight,' well...let me assure you, I am very very flexible, in more ways than one." He winks and places his hand out to the man. "Well met, Gallant of House Regale...I am Rathien, firstborn son of the first family of House Mirwind."
-
Gallant smirks, noting Rathien's gesture and idly shaking the creature's hand but taking the moment to linger on his eyes. There was something to be said for his Replicant-esque inhuman appearance--- It gave you a certain....mystique . Gallant ran the term "House Mirwind" through his head, but came up with only a minor vassal house. And the man wouldn't have introduced himself the way he did in a dead-end Bar unless he was someone important. Obviously this had something more to do with wherever....or whatever, he was gathering....this place was.
"Well met, Sir Rathien. Although you're shockingly forward. Because the Bar finds us interesting? It's a building," states Gallant with some confusion, rubbing a hand through his hair. "I did hear that an organization owned a building of that kind, but that's merely a rumor of course." Gallant winked in a way that suggested it wasn't, or that he could prove it wasn't.
"Yet if you do know the Temser....well what exactly is a Temser, exactly?" Gallant says with a bit of an odd smile. "She's a surprisingly open lady, but I haven't been able to get even that much mileage out of her."
-
"Mmm...my apologies." Rathien withdraws his hand after shaking Gallant's. "I can be off-putting...sometimes I indulge my animalistic side to a fault." He grins wide, clearly showing his fang-like canines. "After all, when you get down to it, we're all animals, and animals are more than forward with their desires. I can pass myself off as refined, but it's hard to force a wolf into so-called civil conformity." Rathien drinks from his fourth glass, slowing down a bit. "But if that answer is too existential for you, let me give you another. Life is short and liquor makes it quicker, so I don't waste time." He smiles again, raising his glass toward Gallant before taking another sip.
"This place is a...what did he call it? A dimensional nexus or some such. A bunch of...mulitiverses.. .converge here, thanks to him." Rathien points at the BT with his thumb. "He controls who can find this place, and I can only guess that this is how he entertains himself." He shrugs.
He arches his eyebrow at Gallant. "A Temser is a...well a Yeerk special forces operative, if you will. And usually a commander of Yeerk forces to boot. Our lovely friend has shown enough intelligence, ruthlessness, and fanaticism to be chosen for that role by her tyrannical imperial government." He smiles at Elriss. "In short, she's deliciously dangerous."
-
"She seems delicious in general to me, although quite interesting in her presentation of this government of hers," Gallant says, putting his arms behind his head and lazing about in his chair. "She implies that I can join the place, though I'm no native--- and Dread Lord knows what that means. They're either lax in their entry requirements or there is a highly specific...less than desirable one."
"As for multiple universes, doubtless we are from different places," says Gallant with some interest. "So you and the Temser come from the same general area, then. There are no Yeerks nor Andalites where I live--- Only humans."
Gallant's expression shifts to one of slight worry. He must be very, very far from home. And he had no idea how he was to get back, even if he was entertained by his present company.
-
Rathien chuckles as Gallant mentions "joining" the Yeerks, but raises his eyebrows as the man mentions that there are no Yeerks or Andalites where he's from.
"No Yeerks and no Andalites...interes ting. I assume then that she didn't explain what a Yeerk is." He flashes a look at Elriss before moving his gaze back to Gallant and continuing. "The only way you'll 'join' the Yeerk Empire is if you allow yourself to be infested by one of them. Yeerks are brain parasites...they enter hosts, usually through the ear canal, and insert themselves between the host's skull and brain. Once enslaved, the host has no bodily control save that which is allowed by the Yeerk." He glances at Elriss again. "I doubt the Temser's host is voluntary...many hosts would kill themselves if given the opportunity. Elriss's host is likely no different." He moves his gaze back to Gallant. "So unless you wish to be locked inside your own mind, I doubt you'll want to take her up on that offer."
-
In the time it's taken the armored man to draw his swords, Vixen has skittered backwards far enough to keep himself just out of sword range, and he stands stock straight, staring alertly straight at the man. The tips of his antlers pulse with white light.
"Whoa, whoa!" he yells. "Calm down! I wasn't attacking you!" He eyes the swords warily. "Man, you better put those things away. You're gonna put somebody's eye out." He rolls his eyes and mutters, "Give a guy a sword and suddenly he thinks he's ready for a duel." Speaking up, he addresses the swordman, "Why would I attack you? I've got nothing against you. If I'd wanted to hit you I would have. You were standing like three feet away."
Elriss listens to the conversation between Rathien and Gallant with growing interest-- and soon annoyance. Is Rathien trying to ruin her fun?
She reaches out to take Gallant's arm. "Don't listen to the idiot hunter," she says with a sweet smile and a slow drawl. "It's not nearly as bad as he makes it sound. Our arrangements are mutually beneficial."
<<Bull****,>> spits her host.
<<How much better has the quality of your life gotten since you met me?>>
"It's just that some people find it a little... off-putting at first," she continues. "But everybody has something to gain from us. For example," she turns an icy gaze on Rathien, but her voice remains sweet, "the idiot here might learn how to keep his mouth shut."
-
Rathien turns his winning grin on Elriss. "Oh come now, sweetie...if you truly have nothing to hide, why get upset when I enlighten the man? Or didn't you really want him to know the absolute truth about your 'offer?'" He chuckles a bit. "Don't be ashamed of who and what you are, love. Just accept your own parasitic nature...I don't remember saying that I have a problem with it." Rathien tilts his head sideways a bit, still smiling winningly at Elriss. "I just thought this attractive gentleman should have all of the pertinent information." He takes another small sip from his tall glass running his tongue over a fang, his mind still running wild with the possibiities regarding Gallant, Elriss, and himself.
-
The man stood straight, leaving his stance, and lowered the smaller of two swords. The large sword, that seems as though a normal person would need two hands to wield, he keeps aloft, ready to strike. "You show little regard for those you 'have nothing against'. Shooting such an attack so closely next to one you've only just met and insulted. First you call me a liar stating my declarations of my situation are false, belittling my speech pattern even though we can understand each other perfectly, accusing me of misleading you in a tale of fancy, calling me a jester that performs with some sort of minstrel troop, and now you dare degrade my skills as a swordsman thinking me some child with no control. I am no fool, I speak plainly, I am not a liar, and I am no unwieldy child waving about a stick. I have held a sword since I was five. I have trained and lead armies of men. I have slain Bullette ((Bew-lay)), Hounds of Hell, countless undead, Dragons, and even a ten-headed Hydra. So hold your tongue and trouble me no more. I will have no more council with you for I have had quite enough of your folly."
With his last word, the man lowered his second sword, replacing them both upon his person. He then walked to the bar and ordered a beer. The bartender placed a large tankard of ale before the man and stood expectantly. He reached into his apron, withdrew a pad, and wrote upon it, "Cash or Tab". The man reached into his cloak and pulled out a single coin. The silver-looking coin cracked with electricity. He asked, "I assume you know its worth?" The bartender nodded, took the coin. He then circled the word "Tab" and put the coin along with the pad into his apron. The bartender went back to drying glasses as the armored man began drinking. He kept his eyes moving about the room and kept his left hand next to a group of throwing knives near his knee.
-
Elriss flashes Rathien a smile, somewhere between cold and sensual. "Of course I believe in being honest, Mr. Rathien, But some things are best eased into. We in the Empire like to refer to it as 'tact.'" She flutters her eyelashes, "Now maybe that's beyond someone who can get by on good looks alone, but for the rest of us, it can come in handy." She leans close, her voice growing steely again, "Maybe you'd be better able to learn if we stopped all the pretense and assigned you to one of our people."
Vixen blinks after the man's tirade, slightly taken aback. "Hoo, man," he mutters to himself as he watches the man sit at a stool. "Touchy about his LARPing." He stands for a moment, indecision running through him. The man had said he'd slain 'undead,' and whether he was telling the truth or simply holding onto the swords for fun, one who would fight against the forces of darkness would be a help, especially in this place.
After a moment, he wanders over the the bartender. "Hey, what've you got that's, like, crazy fantasy themed around here?" he asks. The bartender simply stares at him. "Like, y'know, fairies and knights in shining armor and and wizards and all that?" Vixen presses. When the bartender again fails to move, Vixen sighs, "look, I'm just trying to figure out a good drink to buy my friend over there. Got anything dragon-themed?"
Without waiting for another word, the Bartender moves over to the newcomer, pouring him a tall glass of some thick, cloudy, golden liquid that seems to be steaming, even though the glass and liquid are ice cold.
A face appears behind Vixen, out of the shadows, out of the darkness. It's a small boy... or perhaps an artist's impression of a small boy. Its head is almost perfectly round and utterly smooth, its short reddish-brown hair appears to be painted on, and its large, perfectly round eyes are too large for its head.
"It hurt us, Genwa," a voice whispers, seeming to come from the ghostly apparition and the shadows and nowhere at all. By the time any of the patrons has had a chance to look more closely, however, the thing has disappeared, leaving only a chill in the air.
-
The armored man glances at the glass, then to the bartender who nodded toward the reindeer. He exclaimed, "And I can not be bought." as he used the back of his hand to slide the glass across the counter back to the reindeer. He looked over toward the Elf talking to two other Humans. They looked rather enveloped in their conversation. He returned to his drink, finishing it. The questions running around in his mind were starting to pile up, clogging his thinking.
He asked toward the bartender, "Where am I? I don't know much of the Planes; but how is it that I went through the Gate and neither Moridan nor the dragon followed?" When the bartender merely gave him a silent, blank stare, he slammed a fist on the counter. He yelled out, "I am his protector! How am I to fulfill my oath if I don't know where he is? He will certainly die without me. With the way he acts out? He won't survive the first tavern he enters." He moves his hands in about stiffly and in an obvious pattern; paired with his gestures, he begins muttering aloud strange nonsensical gibberish. Inside the palm of his hands, an orb of green liquid begins to materialize from nowhere. As he gestures, his face begins to contort with frustration. He jerks his right shoulder a few times downward, his armor having caught in itself. He frees the movement of his right arm as the orb of liquid dissolves into nothingness. He grits his teeth and gives a primal growl. He grabs behind his back underneath his cloak and pulls a dagger. With a frustrated yell, he throws the dagger, sending it straight toward an unmarked bottle. The knife breaks the bottle and settles into the wall. The knife then unsticks itself from the wall and flies handle-back at he who threw it. The man catches it and places it back behind himself. The bartender raises his eyebrow at the man and ****s his head slightly. The armored man reaches into his cloak and takes out a few more coins, slamming them on the counter. He then marches outside, exiting the very same door he entered.
His eyes linger on the giant metal housings parked in front of the building and his eyes darken. He looks to the right and sees trees, blessed nature. His eyes soften and he lets out a sigh. He walks toward the tree line, placing a hand upon the symbol on his breast plate. He begins whispering to himself with half-closed eyes.
-
Rathien chuckles again, sipping from his glass. "Your people couldn't handle me...not that you'd ever get the chance." He moves to ever-so-slightly drag one of his claws down the side of Elriss's face and under her chin. "I don't even need my weapons." He grins wide again, clearly showing his fangs.
-
"What in the world was that, precisely?" states Mar, looking from Ike to the reindeer. The reindeer eventually re-enters the Bar, leaving Mar and his companion outside. Mar looks about awkwardly and then says to Ike, "....I think I will talk things over with that reindeer. It needs to understand it is a bad idea to attempt to kill people at random."
Mar wanders over awkwardly to where the reindeer is seated, and then crosses his arms and says to the reindeer, "I have little idea what you detect about me, but I mean not a soul in this Bar any harm. I came here..." Mar rubs his head, a twinge of irritation from his Father running through him at this line of thought. "....I came here to find an old friend. A....A paladin, I think."
Mar knew that wasn't quite right, and that there was something odd about him being a paladin--- but delving into it further seemed like a horrible idea.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gallant raises an eyebrow, glancing at Elriss with something between amusement and irritation. "You were trying to deceive me into putting a magic creature into my skull that would deprive me of all ability to control my body? My, you're a tricky one."
Gallant turns towards Rathien with a bit of a smile, although it's clear he finds the Replicant-ish man very unnerving. It was something about the veiled threats in everything he said--- Noble he certainly was, in that respect. "Thank you for clearing that up, good Mirwind. Do you know anything of this war between Andalites and Yeerks?"
-
Rathien arches his eyebrows. "I do, yes indeed." He allows his eyes to rove over Gallant's body again. "But information is precious, is it not? That first bit was a freebie...but what do you offer in return for more, sir Regale?" He smiles lasciviously.
-
Engoa walks into the bar. The bartender raises an eyebrow at the new comer, why would he recognize the alien woman walking into the bar, her tail swinging from side to side. Bartenders are a dime a dozen, and they hardly ever lasted long. Engoa looked up into the rafters, idly hopes that somewhere deep in the shadows a familiar face might appear. Its been a well over a decade since she stood here, longer perhaps even. Memories are a tricky thing. The bar doesn't feel the same, it seems smaller and smells worse. There are rules posted on the wall, she disregards them.
Engoa crossed the room in a few strides and sat down on a bench, prepared to drink alone.
"What will you have tonight?" the bartender asks.
Engoa looks around, overwhelmed and starts heading back towards the entry.
-
Rathien's eyes dart toward the newcomer as she walks in. He finds his curiosity increasing, though he can't just walk away from the possibilities at hand. He leans forward and places his elbow on the bar, leaning his head on his hand as he smiles winningly at Gallant. "So?" He winks at the man.
-
Engoa jumps, startled by a voice behind her. She turns to face the sound. He leans on his elbow, looking mildly confused as their eyes connect. He seems vaguely familiar, like deja vu. If she passed him anywhere else, she might not recognize him, even now she's not sure who it is she is looking at; can't quite put a name to a face.
"Do I know you? I feel as if we've met before, but it seems a lifetime ago." she says without breaking eye contact.
Uncomfortable with holding his gaze, she looks around the bar, several people are staring. Some seem to spark memories, many do not. Unsure of what she is doing, or why, she walks back towards the bar. The bartender places a cold beer before her, she wonders who ordered it.
-
Rathien's pointed ears perk as the female newcomer addresses him. She'd seemed introverted..perhap s this wasn't the case. He shrugs at Gallant and turns his piercing blue eyes instead to look at the woman who'd spoken to him. "Evening." He crosses his ankles in front of his bar-stool, smiling. "I'm afraid we've not met before...I certainly would remember a woman such as yourself." He sips from his fourth glass of miruvin, the silvery-clear liquid swirling around inside the tall, fluted crystal glass. "But that shouldn't stop us from meeting now, should it?" He chuckles a bit, still smiling.
-
A young man named Ike entered the bar, ordered a drink, and took a stool. He wore a t shirt and jeans, looking like someone from the southern part of USA. He wore a medallion around his neck with a healthy tree among a wasteland of rocks and dead plants.
He had been here before, but left. He didn't remember why he had left, but he was back and hopefully for a longer period of time. He remembered meeting Mar, and hoping he was around, and wondering if the imperial Yeerks were too. In any case, this was an interesting place and he wanted to see what else it had to offer.
-
The glimmering stars go out, blotted out by the hulking, black mass of an Imperial ship clearly built for war. Its hull seems to absorb whatever light comes near it, and the engines glow a deep crimson as it descends, finally coming to a hover a good mile or so above the surface.
It is a smaller ship, a simple Bug Fighter, that detaches from the Blade Ship, finishing the trek down to the makeshift parking lot that houses so many lost and broken ships from previous visitors. It settles into the grass and gravel comfortably, landing struts giving the ship an even more Bug-like impression than when it is in flight.
The hatch opens, allowing the single pilot passage to the ground. He is not dressed in an Imperial uniform, despite the obviously Imperial origins of his ships. Instead, he is wearing a dark suit, contrasted by a flamboyantly bright purple tie. His dark hair is gelled neatly, and he smells distinctly of Italian perfume. The only indications Yeerkish influence are in the small insignia on his lapel -- a Visser's insignia -- and the holster that he has strapped around his waist, bearing a Dracon weapon and several small compartments.
There is a jaunty strut to his step as he makes his way to the bar, careful not to scuff his designer shoes on any of the rocks. Pausing at the entrance, he straightens his cuffs, then throws open the door, stepping in with a flourish and a ****y smile.
-
Ike turned to see who had entered. He didn't recognize the man, but he looked like he had some energy, and was probably hoping for a good time. Ike hoped this meant he wouldn't be looking to cause trouble. He turned back to his drink without saying anything, figureing he'd give the stranger the initiative if he wanted to talk.
-
Elriss starts as the doors bang open, a sound like a firecracker going off inside her head. She presses her hands to her head and groans. Where is she?
With a groan, she awkwardly struggles to sit up-- she seems to be lying in the booth in some kind of bar, her curly blonde hair, if possible, even more disheveled than it had been, the small cuts and scratches showing through the tears in her soiled Imperial uniform beginning to heal... and not all of them cleanly...
That's right. The memories come flooding back, like a dream, or a heavily-drunken night before. The multitude handsome men... the imperial... the... reindeer?
"What time is it?" she asks blearily, pressing her eyes shut again. "And where's a girl get some aspirin around here?"
She hears a small thunk on the table next to her, but by the time she's worked up the energy to look and see what's happened, the bartender is already back behind the bar. There, next to her on the table, is a pair of aspirin and a glass of water that's only slightly brown.
"Does this place ever close?" she wonders to herself, surveying the bar. There are still patrons here... patrons who, from the look of it, haven't gotten stiff necks from sleeping in a booth for... for... for however long she's been sleeping.
-
James Woodley's descent through the wormhole grows more precarious with every inch he falls. He is not sure if it will drop him gently onto the ground or if it will open thirty feet in the air. It is clear that of the many poor decisions the man has made in his life, attacking a Void Beryllian with little more than a pulse pistol was pretty far up on that list. The Oligarch had certainly deserved it, but he nonetheless decides that it will be better to form a plan next time. This is what he is thinking about when the portal erupts onto the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar sideways and sends him rolling sideways across the dirt.
He doesn't even have time to catch his breath before he hits the ground, and so he cries out as he is sent hurling across the grass. James slowly and awkwardly stands up on his dust and grass covered pants, at first unable to catch his footing. He looks around blearily, trying to get his bearings straight, but very little about his current location makes any sense. There are millions of stars directly over his head, suggesting he's not on Earth or even a planet anymore, but he still seems to be able to breathe perfectly. He taps the ground, noting the dust-covered path and the well-trimmed grass on all sides of him. Farther off to the east, there appears to be an evergreen forest and some kind of makeshift spaceship parking lot. It was surreal---- Like being out at one of the campgrounds he was forced to go to as part of his education.
He sees a very large black ship flying overhead. James frowns--- He doesn't recognize the construction at all. It looks close to human, but there are Beryllian and Thyllian elements mixed in inexplicably. A pirate ship? he wondered. Just in case, James checks the side of his waist to see if the pulse pistol is still there. He smiles, noting that the weapon is right where he expected it to be. At least something was going right.
The ship sends out a smaller scout vehicle shortly afterward, which lands in the "parking lot" and discharges an occupant. The occupant looks confident and possibly flamboyantly gay--- James isn't really sure just at a glance. Whoever he was, he probably knows what is going on. He seems to be headed in the direction of the ancient old shack to the west. It looked, even more inexplicably, like an old western saloon from some ancient time long before James was born.
This is crazy, James ponders internally as he walks up to the ancient saloon himself and pushes open the doors. Completely and utterly crazy. He gets a good look at the other occupants and shudders at their pirate-like appearances. I am going to be dead within twenty minutes.
-
Myitt One-Nine-Five is not quite sure how long she has been sleeping in her ship.
But she wakes with a start, nearly toppling out of the navigational seat in her Bug Fighter.
She catches herself and sits up, breathing heavily, her face marked with lines from the corrugated metal against which her face had been pressed.
"****," she whispers. "How long have we been here?" Cautiously, she inspects her body, pressing a hand against her head.
<I'm not hungover,> Tara remarks dryly.
Myitt shakes her head, staring absently at the fighter's main viewscreens.
She licks her lips. "Water would be good," she murmurs to the empty cabin, pushing herself to her feet. With a yawn, she checks the power cells on her Dracon. Then she lowers the ramp to the gravel and descends, making her way to the bar.
Tiredly, back aching, she pushes the door open and staggers inside, yawning again.
-
The man does not stay in the doorway for long, taking quick mental stock of the occupants -- not many, and none of them anywhere close to as put together as he is -- before striding up to the bar. "Dobar dan," he offers the bartender cheerfully, not looking even remotely surprised at the sullen look he is given. "Stolichnaya, molim." The words are foreign, though not Yeerkish or Galard.
While he waits for his drink, he slips onto one of the barstools, straightening his tie and surveying the room. Idly, without looking at him, the man addresses Ike. "You know," he says, in accented Galard this time, "I have never actually had the pleasure of spending much time here. I do hope it lives up to the stories I have heard."
-
"It does. Believe me, it does." Ike said in Galard. The Bartender brought him what he asked for, and wrote on a paper how much it would be. "Let me get that, for the friendly newcomer." He reached into his pocket, and without even looking put some money on the table. Exact change. The bartender counted it, put it away, then went back to wiping dirty glasses with a dirty rag.
"My name is Ike. I'm a religious man, spreading the word of God." He held up his medallion, with the picture of a healthy tree amidst a wasteland of rock and dead plants. "Not forcefully, mind you. All will come to Him eventually. He has the patience of an eternal being.
-
The man quirks an eyebrow, smirking a little as Ike pays for his rather expensive drink. The pungent smell of alcohol fumes comes from his tumbler, the liquid within clear. "A man of God, da?" he asks, turning to Ike and giving him a once-over. The man's eyes are a blue so dark they almost look black, except when the light catches them. His features are attractive, with high cheekbones and the naturally deep skin tones that are distinctly Mediterranean in origin.
"Nareth Five-Seven-Seven," he finally says by way of introduction. Then his smirk widens and he touches his lapel,where the Yeerkish emblem rests. "Or Visser Forty-Eight, should you prefer."
-
Ike's eyes widened briefly in surprise when the man claimed to be a Visser. He had seen imperials here before, but Vissers were supposed to be really important. At least that's what he heard. "Oh, you're an important person, right? Vissers are high ranked generals in the Yeerk Empire, from what I've heard. Everything I know comes from second hand knowledge, and much of that comes from the Empire's enemies. Where I come from, Humans are not at war with Yeerks, and Yeerks are not secretly capturing Humans from what I know. I have seen other Human controllers here, though."
"As for being a man of God, I speak as a person who really has met God. Not just in a spiritual sense, but witnessed a physical being. Being a follower allows me to perform some small miracles. It is a glorious experience."
-
Nareth takes Ike's words in stride, swirling the vodka in his glass. "Da, it is an important rank," he begins, sounding pleased with that fact. He gives the liquid a contemplative look and then sips it delicately. "I am afraid you will find evangelism a bit of a lost cause in crossroads such as these. Perhaps you would be best to try your luck on one of the planets that has not yet established interstellar trade routes, mm?"
He smiles, showing off perfect white teeth. "As for Bog, my host is not particularly spiritual himself, though he comes from a deeply Catholic country. His understanding is that the entire point of religion is that Bog is not a physical being, but immaterial." He ****s an eyebrow. "Perhaps you have been swindled, moj prijatelj?"
-
"The Old Testament God was not an immaterial being." Ike said, ignoring the fact that the Yeerk was calling him Bog. "Obviously the reason he stopped showing up is because he left our planet to spread the Word to other planets. I do not think that I have been swindled, for the power of what I found is real. It is absolute. I call The One God, and He does not correct me. Though even if someone proved to me without a doubt that The One is not the God of the Bible, it probably wouldn't change the fact that there is a real being out there that unifies all creatures, and blesses those who come to Him."
"Your host, who can hear me if I am not mistaken, knows that meaning of life that a Creator can give him. we know that Humans and other mortals are faulty, and we need external guidance from an eternal being of boundless majesty. I offer the both of you an opportunity to see the peace of mind, and meaning that The One True God can give. I know that scientifically advanced species can be less attuned to the supernatural, but I do not control where I go to spread the Word. I am taken where He wishes."
"Besides, given how this place works it's as possible to meet someone who doesn't know about space travel as one who does. In fact there was one man I managed to convert here the last time I came. We separated, but perhaps we'll see each other again. Followers of The One are always connected."
-
Nareth laughs outright at this, waving a hand dismissively. "Save your breath, human," he says, still smiling. "Neither Dom nor I have any interest in deities, supernatural or otherwise. If your god gives you comfort, that is none of my concern."
He takes another sip of vodka, sighing as the liquid burns his throat. He settles back, rolling his shoulders, relaxing. "It is good to get away, da? Or is evangelizing your sole occupation?"
-
Ike ordered more drink, and reclined on the bar. "No, sometimes it is really good to get away. Sorry, maybe I shouldn't have gone into the heavy talk right away. I'm not all about spreading the Word 24/7. In fact I have a money making job building and repairing ships. It's a profitable business, being able to repair something that could be lightyears away from the nearest planet. Jesus was all about helping the downtrodden, and I do my part making sure people can get where they need to be."
-
Speaking of downtrodden, Myitt materializes at the bar counter.
"I'll have redin, on my new tab. Leave the bottle." She clears her hoarse throat, settling in near Dom and Nareth and Ike.
"Nice suit, Dom," she says with a coy grin, taking the glass of deep amber liquid and lifting it in a toast. "Surprised to see you here. Who's your friend?"
-
"Da," Nareth says with a nod, "I am certain it is a profitable business, especially if the range of ships you can work with is wide. This is a rather diverse galaxy."
He brings the drink to his lips to sip, but instead finds himself spluttering on the vodka, coughing and lowering the glass abruptly at the arrival of Myitt. "Ah--hello, Myitt," he says cautiously. His eyes travel over her generally disheveled appearance. "This is Ike. Ike, Myitt, Myitt, Ike. He was just telling me about his experience with ship repairs. Something I think the two of you have in common, da?"
-
"Oh, yeah?" Myitt drawls, eyes roving over Ike skeptically. "He an Imperial?" She pulls the bottle closer, as if Ike might make a grab for it.
-
Ike smiled and waved at the new arrival. "To start, drinks are on me. Best way to make friends at a bar, right?" He glanced at the tab and once again pulled out exact change from his pocket without even looking at the money. "You are a friend of Dom's, but don't like imperials? Well I'm not a controller at all, but I'm willing to be civil with anyone who is willing to be civil with me."
"As Dom said, I work on ship construction and repair. I have a workshop in my ship, and am employed at a workstation in a Human colony not too far from here. I do train for every common ship we have, so it's about as wide as possible."
-
Myitt blinks rapidly. "It's good to meet a kindred spirit," she says with a grudging smile. "I'm trained as a shipboard engineer. Though, clearly, you're not from the same reality as us; humans don't have that kinda stuff where I come from." She shrugs and takes a sip of her drink, wincing. "Thanks for the drink, pal. I never say no to someone who wants to pay down my tab." She grins outright at this, taking another sip.
-
"Yeah, I'm from a universe where Humans achieved space travel on their own, and didn't get found by Yeerks. Or maybe they did, got defeated, and the military covered it up MIB style. Who knows? The war is still going on between Yeerks and Andalites, and I'm not sure who is winning. Are you in the military, Myitt?"
-
"Nareth," the Yeerk corrects, shooting Myitt a dirty look for addressing him by his host's name. "You are speaking to Nareth. Dom is merely an observer at the moment."
He sighs, rolling his shoulders back and taking another sip of vodka, murmuring something under his breath in irritable Croatian. When he switches back to Galard his smile is a little forced. "Ike, I should advise you to proceed cautiously. Myitt is not the most amiable friend you can make, and if you are looking for someone to convert to your cause you are certainly going to be disappointed."
-
"I'll take it easy on the evangelism, Nareth." Ike said. "I'm all for making friends with everyone, but I also have means of defending myself if anyone gets hostile. Traveling to different places to meet new people is always risky, but can be rewarding."
-
James quickly notes the amiable group sitting at the Bar that evening. They seem to know each other in passing---- It is at least clear that the coarse brunette and the gay guy from earlier know one another. James moves closer to the Bar's front and seems to go entirely unnoticed--- A phenomenon that he is used to. There's something about his voice, or appearance, or some other quality that is so utterly ordinary that people's eyes tend to glaze right over him until he says something. That's been useful on more than one occasion, James thought, smiling to himself and shifting his hands in his pockets.
James looks up in surprise when he realizes that at least one person has met his gaze--- That creepy Bartender. His eyes seem blacker than black. It's like staring into a void just behind the man's flesh and bone. James wonders if this is in fact exactly it--- He has seen one other race with eyes like that. He notes to himself that it might be wise to be careful around the Bartender, but the Bartender ceases paying attention to him and returns to repetitively polishing the same wine glass. Weird.
James sit at an open place on the Bar and glances over at the person to his left---- The strange man wearing the pendant. "You're an evangelist?" James says quizzically. "I can tell you right now--- They don't look the way you do where I come from. I mean what is up with that..." James gulps nervously, noting the design of the amulet. "...necklace....you're wearing?" Trees. He was wearing a necklace with a tree on it.
-
"This is the symbol of my God." Ike said to the man. "It is a tree that represents life among a wasteland of death and suffering. It is different than the traditional Christian holy symbol, but I prefer it over a representation of torture. God is life and happiness, so why associate Him with death and pain?"
-
"How can you represent an invisible man you can't see or talk to with anything, exactly? Let alone that. It's not like he can confirm or deny whether he represents life or happiness," James states, trying not to roll his eyes. The Bartender gives James another expectant look, as if asking him whether he'd like to order a drink. James glances to the side of the Bartender, but doesn't see anything that might help explain what this place serves. James scratches his head in confusion, and the Bartender merely shrugs.
Trying to quickly change the subject away from God and the tree amulet, James states, "Do you.....I mean sir, do you know how this place works? I don't see a menu or a placard and it appears to be located...in the middle of empty space. Is there an atmospheric dome?"
-
"I have met HIM. In physical space. He is no longer something that can't be proven to exist. I have met Him."
"This is a strange place that's connected to many different dimensions and timelines. You can order whatever you want, and the Bartender will give it to you. It costs money, but I'll pay for it."
-
"What the hell do you mean, "You've met Him?" states James, blinking as if attempting to process what Ike just said. "You mean to say..." James holds up a finger. "...that you actually ran into the bearded guy himself and he talked to you of all people about what he wanted his symbol to be? Forgive me if I'm a might bit skeptical. That's a little like saying you bought the Devil a drink once. Then again..."
James frowns and looks off, as if something is bothering him. He replays the fight between himself and the Oligarch within his mind. Those deep black holes where his eyes used to be, the promises of a Beryllian invasion, the gravitic warp hole he opened up in the middle of a room. "....I guess you could say I've met someone close. But there is a perfectly rational explanation, at least, for him."
-
"He wasn't actually as paintings and such depicted him as. He's just a being of pure power, and living within him is blissful happiness. All wants and needs are provided for, and there is constant contentment."
"I suppose He may not really be the one I'm talking about, or maybe our view of Him became so distorted that even His most devout followers wouldn't recognize God if they met Him. In any case, what I found is what every Christian has been looking for. A God that will protect them and give them meaning in life."
-
"I don't think you can speak for everyone when you say that, though I think my knowledge of religion is even less substantial than your own," states James with a less skeptical and more earnest look on his face. He is admittedly intrigued by any person who claims they have met a God, although it is more likely that Ike has met an alien. "People worship beings they cannot see for all sorts of reasons, some of them highly personal. Some people want adventure. Others want lovers or friends. My family..."
James shakes his head. "...they worshipped their God because he was a link back to their ancestral past. I think they saw a hundred dead grandfathers going centuries back in him. I didn't see anything except a lot of people going through an awful lot of trouble for a being that never spoke and never took action."
He frowns suddenly. "What do you mean, live "within" him?"
-
"Well, He takes up a lot of space if you find where he is. He takes on a form that can be seen, but you can feel Him everywhere. When they wrote about his omnipresence in the Bible, I believe that's what they were talking about. You can just feel a certain aura, and if you call out to Him, he will be there instantly. I guess He isn't everywhere in the entire universe at once, though. I know I'm using similar terms that people on Earth used when they couldn't prove His existence, but I promise there is a way to let Him into your heart, and when He is inside you will know Him to be real."
-
Nareth, who had been unable to help overhearing their conversation, laughs abruptly at this. "Ike, my dear prijatelj" he says with a small grin. "Are you certain that you do not work for an organisation called The Sharing? Because that is exactly the same sranje we feed poor, ignorant humans. It is amazing what they will do, just to be a part of something larger than themselves." His expression is deeply amused, but he is not so entertained that he cannot spare a glance at James, giving the man the same once-over he gave Ike, eyes trailing up and down his body, making a silent assessment.
-
"I can't say that I've heard of The Sharing. Humans have always been attuned to the supernatural, and as social creatures we love being part of something greater. Sometimes it can be taken to far, like everything else. I'll admit that. Is that how the empire finds voluntary hosts on the Earth of your universe?"
-
"It is precisely how we find voluntary hosts," Nareth says, brushing at his shirt with the back of his knuckles and sipping his vodka. "Involuntary hosts as well, if I must be honest. Sometimes the voluntary ones change their minds when they realise what they are getting themselves into." His smile is a little sharper this time.
-
"I suppose I can understand taking them involuntary, even if I disapprove of it. You wouldn't want your cover blown, and you need all the hosts you can get to fight the Andalites. It's too bad there's a war going on, and your government isn't nicer about it. You'd probably find plenty of Humans willing to take Yeerks for whatever benefits there may be. Although if things go south, and the Humans get their hands on advanced technology, there won't be much to stop them from wiping your race off the galaxy. We Humans can be a violent and vindictive bunch. Probably why my people haven't had Yeerk problems in our universe."
"I do wonder, what happens if someone needs an MRI or something? You have to infest the doctor, and have them ignore the presence of a radioactive slug in the patient's head?"
-
Nareth's dark eyebrows shoot up. "Humans are capable of many evils, da, but do not underestimate what the Empire is capable of. When it comes down to it, the only advantage humans have are their limbs, which my people are quite apt at abducting."
He taps his fingers on the shellac countertop at Ike's question, looking a little disgruntled. "We are not radioactive," he says indignantly. "Nor are we slugs. Honestly, what do people tell you about Yeerks?" With a little sniff, he returns to his drink. "Of course our friends with human hosts know to visit our own medical staff."
-
"Maybe radioactive slug was a bit rude. I apologize. Still, to underestimate our Human minds is unwise. The only reason your people are even a threat is because of swiped technology. If Humans knew about kandrona radiation, it would be simple to find out who a controller is, and who isn't. If the Skrit Na or someone else sold us enough ships, we'd probably end the war ourselves. Unfortunately this is all hypothetical, but I'm sure that your advantage is tenuous at best."
-
Myitt sneers at Nareth. "Yes, of course, Nareth," she says with a sharp smile. "Dom is much more fun, incidentally."
She turns her attention to Ike. "I am in the military, so to speak. And I have no religion. I lost it. Like that R.E.M. song." She grins again.
With a sidelong glance, she gives James a cursory observation, but says nothing. Instead, she sips her drink once more.
-
"My dear," Nareth says, shaking his head a little. "How could I possibly underestimate something in which I reside? I know this human's every intimate thought and intention. I know his wishes and dreams, his fears and his guilt. And I am just one Yeerk, this is just one human. Collectively, we know and understand a great deal of what the human race is capable of."
His tumbler emptied, he sets it on the counter with an audible thunk, pushing it back so that the bartender can refill it. "As for our 'swiped technology', humans have been stealing from one another for years. The fact that we can take technology far beyond what we had ever produced and not just understand it, but utilize it, manipulate it, and create new, better versions of it, speaks highly of our own people."
-
"So you can actually see the thoughts and memories of your host? And you've improved on the technology you took? I'm legitimately creeped out and impressed." Ike said. Maybe these Yeerks were a worse problem than he thought. Maybe he was exaggerating on the technological improvements, or maybe their idea of improving something wasn't really objectively better. Still, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst was generally a good idea against an unknown threat.
Myitt didn't say she was in the Empire, exactly, and she insisted on referring to the Human Dom, so Ike thought maybe she was part of a different group. "Are there different rival factions within the Yeerk Empire?" He asked her.
-
James glances at Nareth with a disturbed look. "Your people....they're...parasites?" he says with a mild shudder. "Parasites that can get inside people's heads and somehow control them?" He momentarily looks like he's about to lose his lunch. He's never even heard of a creature that screwed up before. "Look, the freakiest thing I know about is a race so promiscuous they can mate with virtually anyone and produce a viable kid."
James, after hearing Ike's comment, shrugs a bit. "No, no. If he's attached to the book he can probably read it, if you know what I mean. I just don't get how that works..."
-
"It's hard to have a point of comparison, since there aren't many things that can be in in multiple places at the same time. Maybe like a computer simulation? You're in the machine, and the machine is everywhere around you, as well as right in front of you."
-
Nareth snorts a little. "Da," he confirms. "We are parasites. And from my perspective it is hardly 'freaky'. It is just what we are. It is no stranger than your own anatomy."
He nods at the bartender as his drink is refilled, then cuts in before Myitt can respond to Ike. "What do you think? The Yeerk Empire is a government first and foremost. How many governments are there in this galaxy that are truly unified?"
-
"I see. Good to know." Ike said, being intentionally ambiguous. Nareth didn't seem to be bothered with the idea of involuntary hosts, but that didn't mean Myitt was super good either. Like Humans, Yeerks were most likely just people. People with varying ideas of right and wrong, and with different priorities and needs than other species. Some Yeerks may be genuinely trying to only have voluntary hosts, while others wouldn't care. People tended to run a wide spectrum, regardless of what planet they came from.
"Human anatomy can be weird. We eat and breathe through the same tube in our throat. Who thought that was a good idea?"
-
"Actually," Myitt chimes in with a broad and slightly buzzed smile. "Humans eat and breathe through different tubes in their throats. It's the oropharyngeal cavity that conjoins the two near the back of the mouth."
She finishes her glass and sets to pouring herself another. Then she turns to James and looks him up and down again, pointedly, waving an index finger at him. "What'd you say your name was again?"
-
"James," James states, glancing over towards the brunette. Her appearance was so shabby that she seemed almost inconsequential--- Just another stranger like him, blending into the Bar's crowd. But her wiry expression piqued his interest. He'd seen that look in other people before--- The tired, cynical edge of someone who'd been around the galaxy a few times.
"What about you?" he says. "Are you a Yeerk, too? Or a human like me?"
-
"James," Myitt says with a snicker. "That's my brother's name. Sort of." She clears her throat. "Um. I am a little of both. Yeerk-and-human. My name is Myitt One-Nine-Five, and the woman you see here is named Tara." She reaches across to offer a firm handshake. "Not from around these parts, huh?" She snickers again, a bit wildly.
-
"Uh, no. Not at all," says James. He's trying to crack a grin, but he's too nervous to come up with anything that actually works. The result is an awkward half-smile. He shakes the woman's hand anyway. "I don't think I've ever been to a part of the Local Group that had these Yeerks in it. Where I'm from humans are humans, usually. Unless you're mistaking another race for human."
-
Elriss sits in the booth, willing her head to clear, staring blankly at the wall. She only half-listens to the conversations going on around her until the phrase "Visser forty-eight" drifts through the air. Instantly, she's staring raptly at the back of the head of the very well-groomed man speaking. The Light still technically answers to the Vissers, and for that reason alone, having one of them here makes her very uncomfortable. On the other hand, she's alone and cut off from the Empire; if this Visser still has access to his forces, maybe...
Something doesn't seem right about this situation, though. Nareth 577... the Visser had introduced himself as Nareth 577... she knows that name... but not as a Visser. She wracks her brain, trying to remember... Nareth... a name from a long time ago... an important name... she nearly misses the name 'Myitt.'
Further alarm bells go off in her head, and the hair on the back of her neck stands on end. A Nareth... a Myitt... and talk of whether or not these are imperials...
It's her host, Rose, who figures it out first. <You idiot,> she laughs. <They're traitors. Host sympathizers. They're gonna kill you!> She says in a singsong voice, <They'll kill you, and I'll be free!>
<For how long?> grouses Elriss. <You know the Light can't let you go free, not with the knowledge you have.>
<You know what they say, honey. Better to be dead than a slave to a brain-stealing space-slug ****!> cackles Rose, practically dancing a jig inside her own head.
Elriss sighs and snaps, <Would you shut up? I need to think.> She forces her will on Rose-- a technique she's adapted from Vanress. Fight the host when it's not rebelling, and the host is forced to either fight back or back off. Rose instinctively backs further into her own mind-- she knows this is not a fight she can win-- but defiantly continues to imagine gruesome deaths for Elriss.
<Helpful,> comments Elriss distractedly. She feels at her waist for her holstered Dracon-- it appears to be missing. "Dapsen," she mutters, feeling underneath the bench on which she's sitting. There. That must be it.
The Dracon she pulls out is not, in fact, hers. It's an older model coated in something sticky. "Ugh." She's tempted to chuck it and go wash her hands, but the readout indicates that it has enough charge for a few shots, and this is not a moment she can allow to pass without taking action. A Visser who is, apparently, a traitor to the Empire, right here on her doorstep?
"I am gonna die," she mutters. She sets the sticky Dracon for heavy stun and stuffs it into her holster. She runs her fingers through her disheveled hair, decides it's a lost cause, and immediately pulls out a hairtie and throws it back into a quick, curly ponytail. She stands up, fights down a wave of nausea, does her best to still her pounding heart, and saunters towards the group at the bar.
"Hi there," she says in her sweetest, thickest southern accent. She steps up next to 'Nareth," and flashes her winning smile. She casts a glance at "Myitt" and at the man she's speaking to; her hand rests solidly on the grip of the Dracon.
-
"It's still a choking hazard." Ike says.
He notices someone else come to the table that looks like she just woke up from a drunken stupor. She seemed familiar, like he had seen her the last time she was here. "Bartender, a glass of clean water for the lady, please." He said. The bartender filled a glass, and handed it over. It wasn't sparkly clear, but it was about as clean as anything got in this place.
-
Nareth's gaze is pulled from the conversation by the arrival of a rather dishevelled looking young woman. His first inclination is to give her little more than a passing glance, but his eyes hold on her Imperial uniform. Tattered as it may be, the sight makes his skin pale.
<<Why is there an Imperial here?>> he demands silently to his host.
<<Besides you?>> Dom responds. <<I do not know. This place attracts all types.>>
<<But not Imperials,>> Nareth insists. <<Otherwise Myitt and the rest would have been captured ages ago.>>
Cursing silently to himself, he forces a confident smile. "Hello," he says, ****ing an eyebrow slightly, turning towards her so the 'Visser' insignia on his lapel is clearly visible. "Another member of the Empire? I did not expect to find anyone this far away from our jurisdiction." His smile fades ever so slightly and he sits back, assuming the casual air of arrogance that is so fitting for those of his rank. "I am Renlath Four-Seven-Two, or the Hrek Poret pool," he says easily. "You may, of course, refer to me as Visser Forty-Eight."
He looks away from the woman long enough to cast a significant look of warning in the direction of Ike and James. He can only hope that they pick up on the fact that he is using a different name with the woman, and that they will not mention it. Myitt, he trusts, will understand the implications immediately.
-
Ike looks at "Nareth" quizzically as he introduces himself differently to the imperial, but after being given a look, he decides not to say anything in front of Elriss and continues sipping his drink. He wondered who this guy really was, and if he was even a Visser.
-
James frowns at Nareth's sudden use of a different name, but Nareth's look tells James everything he needs to know. He makes no sign that he even registers what Nareth did. Aha. He's some sort of pirate. Or rebel. Or whatever the equivalent of those things are wherever it is I am.
That momentarily terrified him. He had no idea where he really was, and how long it would take him to get back to Earth. That fight had gotten him very, very lost. It might take another gravitic warp tunnel to get him back. James glanced at the bartender, holding up his hand, and said, "Your strongest latte, please. If possible Arabian in style with fresh beans. I can't deal with anything stale right now."
He wasn't even sure if this Bar served coffee, but he had to try.
-
Myitt looks James over once more. "Nope," she says with confidence. "I'm pretty sure we're the same kind of human, so to speak. This place attracts all sorts, heh. From all sorts of realities."
She catches the eye of the woman in the Imperial uniform, and instinctively puts up a mental shield, straightening her back.
Silently Myitt sips her drink, glancing at the woman, awaiting her reaction to Nareth.
<She's got a Dracon,> Tara whispers.
<Yes, I see it,> Myitt replies tersely, setting the drink down and wiping the condensation on her ratty jeans. As she does so, she rests her hand on the butt of her own Dracon in her hip holster.
-
Elriss smiles coldly at 'Renlath.' Can she have simply misheard his name? Nobody seems to be saying anything about the 'new' name... is it just her imagination, or does everyone except the Visser look distinctly uncomfortable? Her head isn't completely put together, and this place seems to be making her paranoid...
"Elriss four-nine-zero of the Sulp Niar pool," she says by way of introduction. "Y'all can call me Temser Two, of the Light in the Darkness." Her arrogant demeanor as she says this reflects Renlath's own, though she doesn't seem quite as at-ease as he does.
"The Council's taken an interest in this place," she lies. "Word is it's a hideaway for all sorts of scum. We're here to see what can be done. It is good to see there are more loyal Imperials here." Her icy demeanor seems to cool a bit, and she smiles, looking sociably at the two members of the group she doesn't know. "Aren't you gonna introduce me to your friends?" she asks Renlath sweetly. She looks towards Ike and flashes her winning grin, "Hey, hon."
-
"Hello. I am Ike of the Human Colonists." He felt like saying he was of the something, since the Yeerks seem to like doing it. It was true he was part of a group of Humans that set out to colonize space, though there wasn't a big distinction between people on Earth, and people out in space. "I'm a bit of a nomad, making friends and having good times. All drinks are on me." He was starting to sound and act tipsy. That point where you've become aware that you're drunk, and you need to decide to cut back, or just forge on ahead. Unfortunately this probably wasn't a good place to get really drunk. Unless being drunk would put people in a better mood to be converted.
-
Forcing himself to remain relaxed, Nareth gives Elriss a small nod. "Well met, Elriss," he says formally, though inside he is balking. He has, of course, heard passing rumors about the Light, and he knows that they are somewhat closely associated with the Council. The last thing Nareth needs is the Council's scrutiny.
He moves his careless gaze to the others at the counter and lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "Hardly my friends, as I only just arrived," he says, waving a dismissive hand. "I have not had time to acquaint myself with anyone beyond Ike here." He does not mention Myitt, or acknowledge her, or even glance in her direction. Lifting his tumbler to his lips, he takes a sip, smaller than his last. He cannot afford to lose his presence of mind. "I am surprised to hear that the Council would bother with such a backwater piece of sranje as this," he murmurs mildly. "I only stopped here for a brief reprieve between assignments. Distasteful as it may be, it is difficult to get quality redin elsewhere."
-
Myitt lowers her gaze to her drink, thumbing the edge of the tumbler. Her right hand is still at her side, though she allows herself to relax just a hair.
"If you'll excuse my overhearing, Elriss," she says, edging into the conversation. "I've never heard of such a rank."
A smile crosses her lips. "Forgive me, my name is Myitt." She lifts the glass in a toast. "And the redin here really is quite good."
-
"Oh, I dunno," Elriss drawls in response to 'Renlath,' her hand never leaving the hilt of her Dracon. "I kinda like this place. Lots of places to hide, far from any prying eyes. Why, the first time I was here, we were chasing an idiot fugitive." She grins a nasty grin, "We had some trouble finding our way back, but if you've got a good way of getting here, the Light would love to know about it." She bats her eyelashes, and hopes she doesn't look too nervous. Bluffing like this... how the hell is she in a position where she needs to bluff!?
"You'll get used to the Temsers soon enough, I'm sure," she says haughtily towards 'Myitt.' Why does she know that name? She has only the vaguest idea that there's a bounty on a 'Myitt,' but she can't remember what for, or any detail that might actually prove that this is the Myitt in question.
Her stomach turns when Myitt toasts... not ready to start drinking again... "Best thing about this place," she agrees with a sickly smile. "We'll have to make sure to keep the redin around when we take over. It's far too hard to find these days. Blockade and all."
-
Myitt smiles thinly over her glass.
"And just what, exactly, is a Temser rank?" She takes another sip. "Are you some sort of teacher?"
-
Nareth does his best to look unconcerned, though his eyes dart downward, noting her hand on her weapon. <<She's suspicious,>> he murmurs, his internal thoughts far more anxious than his external demeanor.
"Well," he murmurs, burying his response in his tumbler as he takes a sip, "my experience with this place has been that it is notoriously difficult to find, particularly for loyal subjects of the Empire." He tries for a conspiratorial smile. "I suppose that means more for us, da?"
-
"We all know this place isn't natural. Whatever being is keeping this place together is probably going to dislike some Yeerk base being put here, or whatever you puny mortals are planning. Remember, this place connects to many dimensions and timelines, if not all of them. You can't think you're the first one that's ever come here and tried something. I can pretty much guarantee that it will end badly if you try to bring troops here to set something up." Ike said to Elriss.
-
"What do you mean, the place connects to many....dimensions?" states James, glancing at Ike. "Is that even possible? I mean, it's just a wooden building in space."
The Bartender, without issue, slides over a mug filled with steaming hot coffee. James takes a tentative sip, and looks confused when he realizes it's exactly the taste he was hoping for. Mild, but subtly spicy. "I'll...I'll grant you that the place is really weird, though. Where did he even get Arabian coffee this fresh in space?"
-
"I saw a talking reindeer will magical powers, talking about destroying evil, the last time I was here." Ike said. "No amount of alchohol I have ever drank could make me see that kind of thing."
-
Out in the forest, an opening...almost a fissure in the air widens, a dark purple outlined with bright blue. A figure dashes through holding a slightly-curved sword down by his side. He turns around and waves the sword at the fissure, sealing it shut behind him. "Dammerung's tears..." He swears under his breath. He finally takes the time to look around himself and notices the strange trees of the forest. He hadn't had the time to set proper runes, he'd had to open the fissure without any guidance template. Mother had caught him by surprise that time...She'd almost managed to pull him back in. He reaches into his small pouch and very nearly grabs the guidance runes to open a proper fissure, but his sense of the world around him is dimmed...dampened somehow. His heart nearly jumps into his throat...had he Traveled somewhere that already contained Mother's essence? But no...if that were the case, he would already be gone. And that meant...he must be very close to another Primal. All the more reason to leave quickly...and yet...the oppression of his senses is so strong that he must be within this Primal's absolute barrier...which meant the Primal was careless, or had allowed him to enter. Regardless, being within the absolute barrier of another Primal would keep him safe from Mother...and nothing had attacked him yet. Perhaps it would be best to play this out.
He chants softly under his breath and the long katana-like sword melts and shifts into a black and silver staff with a gold jewel on top. His long silver cloak ripples in the breeze, glinting as he picks his way through the underbrush of the strange forest. Off in the distance he can see metallic hulks...remains of space-ships. Interesting...space-faring dimensions were always more interesting. Eventually he emerges from the forest and spies several functional space-ships parked near a dilapidated wooden shack. He holds his staff in front of his eyes and chants softly...he can detect life...true life, but beyond that, his Scrying is blinded. His abilities would be dampened this close to another Primal, but some of them should still work. Of course, the other Primal could choose simply to destroy him outright. Next to Mother, this looks like a summer vacation.
He continues to walk, his cowl drawn up as he approaches the bar. He pushes the swinging doors open with his staff and glances around the room, noting the general appearance as humanoid. For a moment, nothing can be seen inside his cowl. Then he lifts his free hand up and drops the cowl, revealing a human face with shoulder-length jet-black hair, two miniature braids dropping from each temple. His irises are a deep crimson, his features fair, skin a healthy caucasian flesh-tone. His cloak almost-imperceptibly blends and melts into a fitted black tunic-coat with tasteful dark-red embroidery and silver epaulettes. The bottom half melds with his slightly-loose black pants. His feet are clad in black shin-boots with pointed metallic silver toes and flat metallic heels. He places his staff on his back and straps melt out from his tunic-coat to hold it in place. He's wearing black gauntlets that have slotting-metallic backing over the hand and fingers, the final piece on the finger-tips hooking out to resemble claws.
His boots clink and clunk as he treads the old wooden floor. The humans called this type of establishment a "bar." Interesting. Finally his eyes rest upon the BT idly wiping a dirty glass. He grunts and holds his breath...that had to be the Primal's avatar here. As if in answer, the BT looks up at him and smiles unpleasantly before gesturing at an empty stool. He growls a bit in the back of his throat, but continues walking, seating himself upon the stool. He stares at the BT, trying to sense anything about this Primal...but feels nothing. The BT chuckles to himself and produces a tumbler full of jet-black, semi-viscous liquid on ice. He tilts his head and holds it up. The traveler grits his teeth and gestures at the glass with his hand, chanting under his breath. The tumbler levitates into the air and floats over to his hand. He takes a sip, and the BT only smiles at him before returning to his incessant dry-washing of the tumbler.
-
Myitt, already tense, flinches as the door swings open.
She gives the newcomer in armor a passing glance, eyes following him briefly as he makes his way to the bar.
Her attention swiftly returns to Elriss, with interest.
-
"Some sorta teacher, you might say that," Elriss replies to Myitt. "The sort that's going to teach the Empire the new way." In spite of the bags under her eyes, she looks excited, thinking of what the Light means to her.
She glances towards the door as it swings open, and does a double take at the appearance of the man there. Is his cloak changing? Are his eyes red? Is... Is he levitating that glass!?
<Oh, good, something weird,> she confides to her host. <I was beginning to forget where I was.>
<Rot in hell,> Rose retorts helpfully.
<You know,> Elriss pouts, <some hosts are good conversationalists. I miss Emily.>
She turns back to Renlath with a cold smile. "I guess it does," she replies with a searching gaze. Difficult for loyal subjects of the Empire to find? What was that supposed to mean? "So..." she continues slowly, thinking aloud, "does that mean that it's easier to find if you're... less loyal to the Empire?"
She glances over at Ike, "Hon, you're not making this place sound any less appealing. If there are other dimensions and timelines for the taking, we're all but obligated to look into it, ain't we? I guess you'd call it 'risk versus reward.' It might end badly, but if it doesn't..." her eyes sparkle as she glances around the room and leaves the statement hanging.
"The reindeer was pretty bizarre, though," she agrees with Ike, looking towards the newcomer sitting next to him.
-
"Da, that is what I mean," Nareth says. Then he raises his eyebrows. "Of course if you know where to look it becomes easy as well. I trust someone told you how to get here, yes? I would not want to imagine that the first Imperial I happen across is actually a traitor." His eyes scan down her tattered uniform, and he makes a show of pursing his lips and frowning. "That would be rather disappointing."
-
"Very well. Dig for treasure all you like, and beware of Balrogs." Ike said. Though he got a concerned look on his face as he considered the idea of an actual Balrog showing up.
The BT came over to Ike with a tab for the new guy's drink, without being asked. Apparently he noticed the trend. Ike grabbed exact change without looking at it, and handed it over.
-
Elriss sputters in response to Renlath's accusation. "I... You dare... I'm not..." This was where this had ended up? With her loyalty in question?
She breathes deep and takes a moment to collect herself. "I serve the Empire tirelessly, and without question," she says, most of her accent seeming to have dried up. "As is true of all the Light." She does her best to return his scrutinizing frown, but in truth, she's a bit shaken by this turnabout. "I hear the same can't be said of all the Vissers." She sighs. This is going nowhere fast. "I guess it must be fate that two completely loyal imperialists found each other here," she says sarcastically. "You wouldn't have any problem showing me how you get here, would you, Visser?" When she says the word 'Visser,' her tone is one of respect, but there's a sneer hiding in her words as well.
She turns towards Ike and smiles. "You're cute when you're drinkin'," she says, leaning closer to him with a suggestive smile.
-
"Of course not," Nareth responds with a silky smile. He seems to realize that he's shaken her, and that puts his own nerves at ease. "My Blade Ship is in close orbit, I would be happy to bring you on board and share the specific coordinates used." He tilts his head slightly, the smile still in place, knowing full well that if she steps foot on his ship she will be entirely at the mercy of his commands.
"My personnel are quite eager to please," he adds. The underlying meaning is clear. His officers will do whatever Nareth tells them to, and Elriss may not like the results.
-
"You're cute when you're flustered." Ike says with a smile. He gets a refill on his drink, and tries to put on an air of being cool and casual. Given his slowly increasingly drunken state, there was no telling if he actually looked cool.
-
Myitt sits back, watching the exchange between Nareth and Elriss with growing unease. The banter around her is, at least temporarily, forgotten.
"Wait just a minute," she says skeptically, leaning forward again, her expression matching the clipped Bostonian tone. "If the Empire's gonna get taught some new scheme, a new way of thinking, don't you think those of us lower on the hierarchy would have heard--I don't know--something about this Light thing? I mean, if it's anything like the last overhaul in Imperial team building the Council rolled out, then all due respect, we still haven't won an inch of Kelbrid space. Not to mention Leera. This Light you're talking about?" She regards Elriss and Nareth critically." It had better work."
Thinking better of herself, she lowers her gaze briefly, sits back again, and murmurs, "Sirs."
-
James Woodley notes the entering traveler in surprise. He looked like something out of a bad colony fantasy movie, but somehow much more believable. He takes a light sip of the fine coffee provided by the Bartender and almost spits it out when the stranger levitates his glass. He's only seen a few other people do things like that, and all of them were either Thyllians or relatives of the Void. The red eyes seemed to indicate Void, but the hair had only one shade of black in it. This dude was probably okay. He looked a tad wary of the Bartender, though. For some reason, James internally capitalized "Bartender." ....the hell was that about...
It isn't long before he begins to tune in to the bizarre conversation going on between the three Yeerks and Ike. James thinks for a moment and then says, "....hey wait a minute. Isn't it possible that..." James spins his finger around his ear. "....crazy tree guy over there is right and this place is linked to multiple worlds? So you guys aren't from the same Yeerk Empire. Hell, where I'm from I used to be a businessman.... and I've never even heard of Yeerks."
Truth be told, he had not been so rich for a long time. But it ought to convey the right impression.
-
Elriss catches the meaning behind Renlath's words-- heading up to his Blade Ship will not end well for her. He's called her bluff, and she very nearly finds herself accepting out of sheer pride. She can't believe the nerve of this Visser, and she finds herself backpedaling, trying to find a way to get out of what she herself suggested without looking like a coward.
"Maybe I'll just have you transmit the coordinates to us after I've returned home," she says lamely. She gives Renlath a hard glare, scrutinizing his perfectly put-together appearance as though it might yield some clue as to whether he is actually a traitor... or simply a Visser playing politics.
Of course, now there's the issue of there being a Blade Ship in close orbit. A Blade Ship that could take her back to the Empire, if she can figure out how to secure passage without... disappearing, or getting herself imprisoned. Her thoughts are so twisted that she nearly misses the opportunity to smile again at Ike and give her hair a little toss.
She turns her glare towards Myitt. Whether she knows it or not, she's managed to hit a bit of a sore subject. The secrecy under which the Council has kept the Light runs totally contrary to Vanress's vision, and there have been growing murmers within the organization that the Council has no real intention of living up to its promises. Oddly, neither Edriss nor Vanress has seemed terribly concerned with these suggestions, and Elriss has found herself wondering what their plans are.
"It will work," she says, confidently, her voice dripping resentment. "Unlike the Council's sappy little team-building exercise, the Light is run by competent Yeerks. The only problem will be convincing the Vissers," she laughs, sparing a glance for Renlath.
She looks towards the man she doesn't know when he speaks. He's human, and he's here, but he doesn't know Yeerks. "Not from the same Yeerk Empire?" she wonders aloud. She frowns. Sure, it's possible, she guesses, but is it really something that's worth wrapping her head around? Ike is clearly from somewhere else, but how much does that knowledge help her now?
"How do you know we ain't from the same place?" she asks. "Not even every... businessman like yourself knows us on Earth." She does her best to keep her tone light and flirtatious, in spite of the anger roiling in her over Renlath and Myitt. "Either way, I'd like to get to know ya sooner rather than later. Name's Elriss," she says, holding out a hand as if for him to kiss. "And once we take this place, it won't be long before everyone knows us." She grins, ambition flashing in her eyes. "Intimately." Rarely before has that word sounded so sinister.
-
Since Elriss seemed to be reciprocating, Ike decided to lean a little closer to her. He was careful not to fall out of his chair, since he didn't want to make a scene, or have people thinking he couldn't hold his liquor. He had been to bars before, paying for drinks and spreading the Good News, but this was some rich stuff he was drinking. Somehow not only did the Bartender have impeccable stock, but it was quality stock too. The only thing to complain about was that the place wasn't spotless.
He wondered if he'd be able to bring Elriss to The One. They were hitting it off, or at least Elriss was making like they were, and eventually she would probably offer to let him join up with their group. If that happened he'd just have to convince her to become a follower of The One in exchange for him letting a Yeerk into his head, and depend on the Holy spirit to keep him from just becoming a Yeerk slave.
She acted like this would be a great place for the Empire, but something like this should be handled by a greater being than her. Maybe the reason he was here in the first place was to convert people and give Him a foothold.
He decided not to make any quips about the "intimacy" that elriss talked about. He would be a better person than to say something crude.
-
Nareth can't help but roll his eyes a little at Elriss' little speech. "Is that so?" he asks, "Well by all means, convince me." He has no real idea what he is asking -- his knowledge of this 'Light' is painfully limited, and he is quietly cursing Ossef for feeding him so little information.
<<He probably sent it to you,>> Dom points out.
<<I would have seen,>> Nareth responds stiffly.
<<Not if you were too busy playing Halo. With my hands.>> The amount of indignance in Dom's tone is palpable. Evidently he can think of far better things for his hands to be doing.
Dom's lips twitch into the smallest of scowls as Nareth shoves the human's thoughts away. <<I would have seen,>> he repeats, before turning his attention outward again just in time to hear Elriss speak to James and Ike. The very name 'James' makes Nareth uneasy, reminds him of Myitt's presence, which he is carefully ignoring. He forces a thin smile.
"Really, Elriss, I do hope you are not in charge of recruitment efforts on Earth," he says airily, smirking at Elriss. "With an invitation like that, it is no wonder the number of voluntary recruits has dropped so dramatically."
-
James stares at Elriss with a confused frown, particularly after hearing Dom's statement. "Recruits" obviously meant people to infest--- Not something James was interested in. He finally responds with, "Look. Ma'am. Where I am from, any businessman or lawyer in the Oligarchy would be doing a poor outreach job if they were not aware of every species that uses their products. Marketing is key to inter-Group success. That's how I know we are not from the same Earth."
He looks sideways at Dom and says, "....are you always so unusually...aggress ive in your search for new slaves, then?"
He takes another mild sip from his coffee. The nerve of these people. A rebel he might be now, but he had hoped basic social niceties were observed.
-
Nareth laughs quietly. It's an appropriately unsettling sound, and using it makes even him uncomfortable. "Of course we always ask permission first," he says smoothly. "Everyone has a choice. Come peacefully, or forcibly."
<<You fit this role far too well,>> Dom comments, shifting in his mind, uneasy. Nareth doesn't respond, instead turning his attention to his tumbler of vodka, frowning at it disconcertedly. He wishes that Elriss would leave, so that he could drop the act. The whole point going to the bar was to have a moment where he could feel like himself, not the arrogant, unconcerned Visser he was forced to spend almost all of his time projecting.
-
"And you approach every other species in the galaxy with such an imperialist policy?" states James Woodley, raising an eyebrow. "How exactly have you gotten away with existing so long without running into another species with technology better or different than your own? The biggest obstacle to inter-species cooperation is the utterly alien nature of another species, even when they look the same as you."
James Woodley had, in his time, run into humanoids made of light. He'd heard of sentient black holes. He'd heard of a brutal species of centaurs in sub-zero temperatures with far better weapons but no communications systems or spaceflight. You never knew exactly what you were going to get.
-
In spite of herself, Elriss finds herself laughing at Renlath's words. Maybe she's been wrong about this Yeerk. Sadly, her own laugh causes a wave of nasea to roll through her.
She turns to James, her eyebrows raised. "Where'd you say you come from, again? An Earth where interspecies cooperation is key?" She leans closer, her eyes flashing a hint of ambition, "I'd love to see it." She waves to the Bartender and calls for water, then continues, "We're not dumb, hon. We scout out a world before we start, ever since the fiasco with the Arn and the Hork-Bajir homeworld. Thing is," she grins, "we haven't even met our equals yet. And with every race we take, we grow stronger. We're Yeerks." She nods towards Renlath, sure he'll approve.
The Bartender plunks a glass of greenish-tinged water down in front of her, and she sips it gratefully. She turns to Renlath, unsure how much he knows about the Light, and how much to reveal. The reputation they have tends to be that of an almost-mythical shadow organization or brute squad for the Council, and she gets the idea that, to some degree, they prefer to leave it that way. "The Light is about unifying the Empire," she explains. "It does away with the divisions and the goals of the old way, and it gives us a common direction, common beliefs to work towards. It's a different way of looking at the Empire, a different way of running things." She frowns, not sure she should be telling a Visser he's essentially obsolete. "There's nothing a totally unified Yeerk Empire could not accomplish."
-
"Unifying the Empire?" Nareth echoes. "Unifying how? What method does your Light have of running the Empire that is so much better than the current operations?" He smiles smoothly. "I trust you have heard the human phrase, 'do not fix what is not broken', da?"
<<Though if they did try to change things,>> Nareth adds internally, far more interested in the topic than he is allowing himself to appear, <<That could be just the upheaval the rebellion needs to act.>>
<<Presuming they would act,>> Dom responds, trying and failing to glance at Myitt.
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James exasperatedly runs a hand through his brunette hair, which flashes hints of red in certain lighting conditions. "You've 'never met your equals?'" James says. "And I thought that Prince Astolian of the Thyllians was arrogant. You have to have run into a species that caused you a few problems, either technologically or biologically. The galaxy is a strange, strange place Yeerk. It won't be long."
James then mutters, "Especially since from the sound of it, your Empire is almost as divided as the Oligarchy..."
-
Ike laughs a bit at Nareth saying they've never met their equals. "Eventually they're going to run into something they can't infest, for one reason or another, and if they can't beat that species they'll start having problems. Though even if they do, they probably won't talk about it casually, eh Renlath?"
-
"Of course we have our adversaries," Nareth says, shrugging. "But they have not prevented our continued expansion. In this war, they are losing ground while we continue to gain." He does what he can to avoid looking at Myitt as he speaks. "The divisions that exist within the Empire are inconsequential. Small, insignificant groups that are easily shown their place."
-
"It's a wonder that a race with such a glaring weakness can even win an intergalactic war. You can infest and control other species, but you need something that isn't found in most solar systems. If anyone could find and destroy the kondrona radiation generators, you'd be screwed, and it seems like finding a source of radiation that isn't found anywhere else on the planet shouldn't be difficult. Your people are just lucky. Or maybe the Andalite just aren't that smart."
-
The strange man overhears some of the conversations going on around him, squinting his eyes at the BT once he hears a few words. "Yeerko-Andalitian war...creatures from Ellie and Cray-cray's little corner of the plane? Really?" He ****s his head, eyes shifting back and forth between the groups and the BT before settling on the dry-washing projection again. "Is this how you amuse yourself?" A hint of incredulity specked with derision enters his tone.
The BT's eyes flash dangerously, the dry-washing motion slowing. The stranger shrugs and looks away. "I'm not judging. Besides, it would be unwise of me to anger my generous host." The dry-washing resumes its normal cadence. The stranger takes a mental breath...despite the power this Primal could currently exert over him, his thoughts could not be read. He was far from powerless here...just...far less powerful than him. His eyes dart toward the BT before returning to his glass. At least Mother wouldn't be able to find him here...he kept telling himself that.
-
Elriss looks at Renlath with laughing eyes. "Hon, the divisions in the Empire are a little more than inconsequential than just an underground Peace Movement and that horrible little Rebellion. I know you Vissers surround yourselves with Empire-loving yes-men, but even you've gotta see that we're not any better off for all this divided faction-on-faction business." Even as she says this, she still finds herself unable to meet Renlath's eye, electing instead to stare at whatever those floaties are in her glass of water. "We wouldn't be around if the Empire wasn't broken, da?" Now, as she hits one of her favorite subjects and begins to speak more quickly, her accent becomes less consistent, her southern twang dropping in and out. "The point of the Light is to unite our people under a direct, unquestionable hierarchy with strict, solid rules for decisions. There needs to be a direct, continuous, and instantaneous two-way feedback between them in charge and them they govern, and a large enough majority dissenting opinion on a lower tier of the hierarchy needs to be able to halt or even overturn a decision on the part of a higher one. The Council's behind us." She frowns. "Some more than others," she mutters.
She turns to James, her faith in her Empire clearly unshaken by his words. She's not failed to notice the red tint to his hair. Maybe something that subtle could work with her blonde... "We'll 'cross that bridge when we get there,' to use another human phrase," she says. "Like what the Visser here said, we get plenty of resistance, but that ain't the same as meeting someone who can match us." The smile she gives him rides the line between innocent and mocking, "And every new race we capture only adds to our strength, technologically and biologically."
She shrugs at Ike, the hint of her 'adorable' playing across her face, "It ain't like we're in the habit of making the Kandrona easy to find, hon."
-
"Few people are dumb enough to show off their weak point." Ike said. "I guess the fact is whatever you're doing is working for you. It may be a tightrope walk, but somehow you're getting across. Behind the scenes, greater powers move their pieces in place. The One has chosen me and others of my group as part of His people. I wonder if there's a greater power behind the Yeerks and Andalites."
-
The stranger suddenly gets a spike through his senses...the presence of yet another mass. One of the individuals in here must be linked to another being aside from the BT projection. He begins to scan the crowd once again, trying to probe with his senses. They're still blunted severely...sensitiv e fingers stuffed inside of thick mittens...but he can sense a few eccentricities of aura still. Most were human, and most were somewhere between light and dark alignment as so many often were. In the case of the blonde, her aura almost feels twisted painfully, though he can't sense anything further with the BT's massive aura blunting his senses.
Suddenly he feels a painful stab, like a live electric current backfeeding through his senses. It had happened when he'd spiritually probed the average-looking, very calm man in that particular group. Not a Yeerk...then how would a human come to this place? He had to be an Avatar or a Sworn.
The stranger overhears another portion of the conversation..."The One?" And he'd been "chosen." So, a Sworn then. One enslaved by a mass that was not particularly friendly with others. The stranger grimaces to himself and darts his eyes back up to the BT, whose only response is a quirk of the eyebrow.
-
Ike felt his attention drawn to the stranger who had sat down at a different table. He didn't know what it was, but something inside him felt that this individual was significant. Someone to be watched. He didn't want to just get up and leave his table, partly because of his drunkenness. He decided to give a small smile and wave to the guy, and keep tabs on him.
-
Mar was tired. Perhaps He had been so for a very long time. He had been driving Himself toward His desire for too long and for too far a distance, and the only end that He saw would end Him. It had occurred to Him that despite everything He had done, perhaps there was no way to avoid it. He could see it in the same way most people might see a setting Sun, moving ever so slowly below the horizon. It was as if it were always just outside His window, waiting for Him. Yet the being's thoughts were being drawn in another direction.
There was a place one could go, if one felt like this. Wasn't there? The idea scratched lightly at the back of the seraph's mind, fully formed but inexplicably difficult to access. He vaguely remembered (And vague memory in and of itself was very odd for Him--- Really only the garden had a similar dreamlike quality to it) a ramshackle building on an asteroid lying in the far reaches of Time and Space. He had gone into this building and found respite from...Everything. From Himself. He didn't quite remember leaving, either. There was really no other option. He had to go back. He knew it wasn't true, really....the "lie" He had found there. But He had loved it.
And so Mar opened up his eyes, and found himself leaning against the side of the Bar. His boots were digging into the grass. Mar held his head in disorientation, the rush of human senses and human feelings nearly knocking him over. He stumbled awkwardly out of his position, quickly regaining his balance. He felt dizzy. Had he somehow been out here the entire time? Was his brother Ike back inside?
Mar smiled suddenly, remembering the friendly and warm young human he had met. The race of people he was supposed to protect. Yes, that was it. Mar turned around and pushed open the double doors to the Bar, a peaceful expression on his face.
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"I suppose you aren't that different from us humans then," states James, taking another sip of his drink and getting a good look at the blonde for the first time. She was pretty in her own way, and she had a charming smile. But James wasn't one to hit on random people he'd met in a Bar, let alone a Bar millions of light years away from home. "Humans adapt to any new species they meet and grow stronger from having met them. But we similarly take advantage of all that we see."
He raises an eyebrow upon hearing her description of the Light. "And how can you guarantee that the governed actually are able to give coherent feedback? Is your species somehow more homogeneous than ours? Part of the problem humans have had with representative governments is that people are so very different from one another. There isn't one single majority opinion but hundreds."
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The stranger takes another sip of liquid from his glass before playing around with it idly, pretending to balance the glass on one finger-tip while holding it aloft with levitation. He notes the Sworn's gesture warily and merely watches the would-be human for a moment before the bar doors swing open again. He takes in a hissing breath as he feels a fourth Mass...it was getting crowded in here. The new mass emanates from the new individual, in an outfit more-befitting an avatar. The individual's connection with the Mass is almost palpable...no mortal could survive that strong of a connection...it must be an Avatar. And yet, he feels a similar strain...the same electric backfeed as he felt from the other placid human, though not as strongly. Two masses in one individual? How?
The glass "balanced" on the stranger's fignertip shatters, but remains in the perfect form of the tumbler, still containing is black, semi-viscous liquid, but now spiderwebbed with thousands of crystalline-shaped cracks. He needed to work on that surprise reaction...he starts the process of knitting the glass back together, but notices that it has already begun the process itself...or perhaps he had...the stranger glances at the BT again.
-
Ike noticed Mar, and excused himself from the table. "Mar! Brother! It's good to see you again." He said after walking over. "I apologize for leaving earlier. I'm not quite sure of the details, but I've returned and hopefully for longer. How have you been?"
-
Myitt's eyes narrow at Elriss' obvious distaste for her question.
"I meant no disrespect," she mumbles, extremely half-heartedly, bile rising in her throat.
She remains silent, brooding, sitting back and listening with her tumbler of red pungent booze cupped in both hands.
Her attention piques again when Elriss and 'Renlath' banter back and forth about the Light and its divisiveness within the Empire.
"Excuse me," she edges in, "but are you talking about creating a democracy out of the Empire?"
A strange shiver crawls across her skin, but she is facing away from the door, and dismisses it.
-
"Absurd," Nareth says, waving a hand dismissively at Myitt's suggestion. "The Empire could never function as a democracy. Not even the rebe--" He cuts himself off, turning the word into a cough, catching himself at the last possible moment. He shifts his attention back to Ike, looking for a way to shift the conversation, but the man has left.
<<Dapsen,>> he hisses silently. Unhooking his feet from the barstool, he pushes himself abruptly to his feet. "I think it is time that my little hiatus from work came to an end," he says stiffly. "Thank the human for my drink when he returns, da?"
-
"I have been in a poor mood, although what I was upset about seems to have escaped me," states Mar with a well-meaning shrug. He really doesn't know what it was, for some reason--- The feeling of deep satisfaction that comes of the presence of his Father in his life overwhelms all other sensations. "It would interest me to find out where you went, but we can save that for later. Have you managed to introduce any of the latest group into the loving embrace of God?"
Mar turns toward the bar, trying to get a better look at the place's clientele. He searches in vain for a blue alien of his acquaintance, but spots two other people of great interest to him. One of them was intriguing merely because he seemed to be similar to Mar himself. He had a Mass of a respectable size, writhing about chaotically. Mar wondered dimly if many Highest visited this hole in the wall. It made sense, given that the place was run by a Highest.
The other was quite clearly a human and Yeerk pair, a human and Yeerk pair he somehow--- Mar rubbed his forehead irritably, trying to excise the sudden aggressive tension from his mind. Well he knew them, that much was certain. His Father seemed to want to hide exactly how. Mar wondered why his Father would want to hide anything from him.
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"I take it that you guys aren't normally a very democratic society," James states, glancing over in the other direction at Myitt. "Otherwise what would your society need rebels and complex reorganization for? I've recently spent a great deal of time as a rebel myself, although I wish dearly it had not turned out that way."
James had run into the wrong people at the wrong places at the wrong times. And he had discovered the wrong conspiracies at the wrong places at the wrong times. He desperately wanted to go back to the time when his whole previous existence hadn't been morally objectionable to him, but that was what you got for digging around in the Admiral's business. This Bar was as good a place to hide out as any.
James watches in surprise as the glass of another guest shatters, mysteriously remains intact, and then promptly knits itself back together again. Lines of glass filling in the cracks. The happenings in this one building continued to get more messed up.
-
"Unfortunately it's a tough crowd, despite earlier successes." Ike said. Not many religious people. There is an imperial that I believe is interested in me. At least while we're both drunk." He rested a hand on something to help steady his body. Honestly he probably did a good job just walking over to mar without falling down. Perhaps the Spirit had helped with that, or maybe the drink wasn't effecting him as much as he thought it might. "Unlike the Yeerk Empire, we must not resort to force in order to convince anyone."
-
Mar notices Ike's unsteady gait and promptly moves behind him and helps to support his weight, moving his drunken brother back to the Bar. Again he was struck by the eerie sense of familiarity he got, looking at the unkempt woman in the trenchcoat. But it wasn't relevant at the moment, according to God.
"Why not?" states Mar, almost seeming a bit confused. "Our Father is clearly capable of using force. Is it that He is not interested in those who do not come to Him freely? That seems like a familiar statement from at least one Rite I was in."
"Although frankly..." Mar mutters. "...I have never agreed with Him. Mortals coerced early in life are consistently superior servants."
-
Ike sat back down as he was brought back to the bar. "I feel that our Lord is not as impatient as He once was, that He would demand people come by force if need be. Of course it's possible I'm wrong, but I just don't feel moved to do it. I get the feeling that if someone came and tried to throw his weight around, the whole bar would rise up against him. Even people with little to no affiliation would leap into the fray. That's the feeling The Spirit gives me personally, anyway, even if I don't have strong evidence to support it."
"If we can convince anyone to take the first step willingly, the rest will fall into place."
-
Elriss presses her face into her hands as everybody talks at once. The headache is deafening. Stupid hangovers. Yeerks should be immune.
<I feel okay,> pipes Rose cheerfully.
<Ugh. Shut up,> mumbles Elriss.
"Where's Haviss when you need him," she mutters to herself. The sound of a shattering glass punctuates her conscious and she groans and finally looks up again, blinking. "Two Advil, please, hon," she says to the Bartender who is, conveniently, standing right next to her when she opens her eyes.
"Hon," she says sweetly, if distractedly, to Ike, "the Yeerks get along just fine without a higher power behind us. Not that I'd turn down the help," she says thoughtfully. "Your god sounds awful nice and all, but in the end I'm sure it's just another one of those things where we're considered evil enslavers of other races and all that. Human religions don't leave much room for Yeerks." Her lip curls when Ike excuses himself to go talk with Mar. Ugh. So he's still hanging around this place.
She laughs and turns to James, "It wouldn't be difficult to be more homogenous than humanity. Hundreds of opinions... who has need of so much disagreement?" She sneers as she speaks, the irony in what she's saying almost entirely eluding her. She looks to Myitt, "But a 'democracy' might not be the right word. Conjures too many images of bureaucracy and... voting and whatever." She thinks for a moment, "What we do needs a different name. It's lightning fast and brutally efficient. No question about what direction we're taking. No question about who makes the decisions. No question about when their people think they're wrong. The Light knows what's in its members' heads."
Her mouth snaps shut and she turns slowly to face Renlath. Her eyes narrow as he abruptly stands. "Oh, leaving so soon?" she says, her tone falling halfway between pouting and threatening. She throws back the pair of Advil on the counter in front of her and follows it with a swig of her greenish water. "I wish you wouldn't. I feel like we still have so much to talk about."
-
Nareth blinks, forgetting himself for a moment. "Did you say Haviss?"
<<Not the same Haviss,>> Dom hisses warningly, but it's too late. Nareth has, despite his best efforts to ignore her, glanced over at Myitt, trying to see whether she picked up on the familiar name as well.
<<Nareth!>> Dom snaps. Nareth gives himself a mental shake, turning back to Elriss. "Do we?" he asks mildly. He tries tapping his fingers on the shellac countertop, attempting to feign impatience rather than anxiety. "Somehow I find I have far more important things to do than banter with you, Temser."
-
"Well. I like what goes on in my head to be quite private, thanks," Myitt replies to the Temser with a false smile.
She then locks eyes with Nareth and Dom, looking away with what she hopes is nonchalance.
The name 'Haviss', however, sends a jolt of shock through her chest.
She clears her throat, sliding off her seat. Suddenly this place did not seem very friendly; something in the room had changed, some cold chill that pervaded her host Tara's body. And, oddly, it had nothing to do with the bizarre happenings going on around her.
It was time to leave.
-
Mar looks awkwardly at Ike, taking a seat of his own next to his brother. The place was almost exactly as he had left it, complete with the Bartender who didn't appear to have aged a day. He noted awkwardly that Elriss the Yeerk was definitely still here--- For some reason, it was easier to get a bead on the acquaintance than the friend. "I'm...familiar with that little feature of the Bar," he says. "During one infamous incident, my least favorite patron was shot by a bounty hunter and inexplicably nearly everyone rushed to her rescue. Personally I think there's a spell here that ensures the status quo is preserved, more or less."
"Bartender, my usual red drink please," Mar states as he waves a hand to call the Bartender over. The Bartender seems to know what Mar means and proceeds to mix a peculiar red concoction that happens to be close to 80 percent alcohol. The one advantage Mar seems to have retained this time is his freakish tolerance. He then sets the fizzing, almost Koolaid-colored red drink in front of Mar, who takes a very light sip of it. The Bartender's variant was perfect. Better than his Alderonian chef, in fact. It never ceases to amaze him that the place always has exactly the right ingredients.
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"So then who does make the decisions in your brave new world?" says James with a slight grin. "You seem to be big on fancy rhetoric but very sparse on the details. Granted the Oligarchy isn't a whole lot better in that respect, but at least I as a citizen generally knew who controlled what. So, who, exactly..."
James draws two of his fingers along the table and stops them directly in front of Elriss. "...are the Light?"
James notes with some interest that the rather layered conversation going on between "Renlath," the Yeerk called Myitt, and Elriss appears to have ended. Both Nareth and Myitt have responded curiously to the name "Haviss" and presumably intend to take their end of the conversation outside. James doesn't want to pry into what is clearly a dirty business, but he is curious.
Perhaps he should wait until just after they have left and then follow to find out what they know. After he hears Elriss' answer, of course--- Which may have equal weight. He is in a strange world and it would behoove him to understand how the gears of this political machine turn, and whether throwing a wrench in the works would be a good idea.
-
"Let's play our cards carefully, and we can accomplish The Lord's goal in a peaceful manner." Ike said. He noticed the conversation he was previously in seemed to be coming to a close. It might be good to try to convince Elriss to give his beliefs a shot, though in his muddled state he wasn't quite sure how to go about it. He supposed Mar might be able to help, but it might be better to go a more private route. Whether Elriss' flirtations were genuine or not, if he could convince her to join in the ritual just for kicks, that was all he needed.
He spoke more quitely. "Elriss has been coming on to me a little bit. It may be my chance to score a new convert. Do you have experience acting as a wing man? You know, working in the background to help a guy score?" He smiled a bit when he heard himself, because it sounded like he was trying to get laid instead of performing a conversion.
-
Mar smirks playfully at Ike and says, "I was more often the one who was scoring, if you know what I mean. I have had the occasional bit of luck even here. Although I suppose my Father might wish me to have better decorum." Mar pouts at this, as if that isn't at all what the creature would normally have in mind.
"But naturally I can play the lesser half," the Mar states. "Particularly for a good cause. I have watched closely a friend of mine, who I admit has always had unrequited love for me."
This friend, who he remembered far better than some aspects of his life, was a blue-haired playboy named Belpheron. He smiled slightly to think of his on-again, off-again Highest Lover. Lord of Lust, corruption, and meaningles--- wait, what? That...that must be in the past...
-
"Ah, a master in my midst. Surely we won't fail, then." Ike said. He got a refill and headed back to his previous spot.
"I'm back. I just saw an acquaintance of mine and felt the need to catch up. My attentions are once again on you, Elriss." He said, trying to look flirty. "If they're leaving, do you want to get some fresh air?"
-
Elriss glances from Renlath to Myitt with curiosity. She's not missed the brief glance they shared. What's that about? The two of them certainly know each other. She glances around at the others. James... Ike... Mar... how many of them are in cahoots?
Her lip curls at the way Renlath addresses her. She's come to enjoy the respect she usually receives as a leader; none of her subordinates would dare talk to her that way.
"Your funeral," she mutters in Renlath's general direction. "What we don't discuss now will almost definitely interest the Council later."
<I like what's in my head to be private, too,> spits Rose bitterly, in response to Myitt's words.
<Good point,> responds Elriss.
"What about your host?" she asks Myitt. "She have a problem with her thoughts being known? What we do is less..." she searches for a word... "Less invasive than what you've done to her. It's for the good of our people. All our people."
As James speaks, a powerful wave of hunger hits her unexpectedly. Her vision swims; nausea and dizziness wash over her, and by the time it's passed, she finds herself short of breath, with perspiration beginning to bead up on her skin. Try as she might, she can't seem to figure out how long it's been since she fed... surely not three days already?
"Hon," she replies to James, "I imagine all your people will be very familiar with the Light soon enough. If you'll excuse me..."
She gets to her feet, the world seeming to rock under her, and nearly falls into Ike as he approaches. Kandrona starvation, she's coming to realize, is not a good companion for a Redin hangover.
She looks to Ike. He wants to take a walk? The timing, she thinks, couldn't be better. She needs to get outside.
"Alright, hon," she says, trying to steady herself against the Bar counter. She holds out a hand towards Ike and forces a smile, "Let's take a walk."
-
Ike takes her hand, and leads her out the door. She looked a bit worse than before, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe her hangover was worse than he thought. The fresh air felt good, and there was a cool breeze. He was capable of some small magic, and hangovers were pretty common around bars, so he held his hand above the back of her her head and focused his energy. Usually most of the pain someone felt from the throbbing going on would dissipate. It wasn't perfect, as few things regarding the Human brain and the various chemicals in alcohol were so simple, but like taking exact change out of his pockets it was a nice trick.
"You should feel better in a minute. There's a nice quiet forest, and a lake. It's an interesting anomaly."
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(I'm back after completely forgetting my password so what's going on?)
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(( Welcome back. Please post out of character comments in the OOC thread. Tell us how you've been over there. :) ))
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Yarin walked into the bar, sat down, and motioned to the bar keeper. "One Nanander, one Boligon on the rocks, and one flaming Crusvex."
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Nareth watches Elriss and Ike go, his anxiety easing almost as soon as she is out of hearing range.
He turns to Myitt, his lip curling a little. "First of all," he says, unable to help sounding imperious, "You cannot be here at the same time as me. Go. It is too dangerous."
His eyes flicker up towards the door. "She looks hungry," he adds, in a tone that almost sounds gossipy, completely negating his demand for her to leave. "A hungry Imperial could be useful, da?"
The sallow bartender gives Yarin a long, level look. Then, slowly, he sets his tumbler down and goes about preparing the drinks. When he sets the three glasses in front of Yarin it is exactly what was asked for, and accompanied by a grubby notepad upon which three words are written.
Cash or Tab?
-
James watches Elriss' hangover get the best of her with some amusement, taking the final sip of black coffee left in his cup. It looked like the Bar was getting the best of the proud Light diplomat. A man he gathered was named Ike, being the Earthborn gentlemen he appeared to be, led the woman out into the night outside the Bar. Good. This was good---- He could listen in on the conversation the other guests were having now.
He knew that the entire affair didn't really concern him, but he couldn't help but be intrigued by this Yeerk issue. He was banking on his initial intuition about the importance of the political climate in this area being right. What he didn't understand was how the Yeerks were infesting humans, and yet no one in the Oligarchy even knew about it. Were they all from the same bizarre, far-flung colony world? Ike definitely had an Earthborn accent.
James waits with what is either anticipation or impatience as Nareth and Myitt begin the discussion they wanted to have but could not have around Elriss.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mar follows Ike out of the Bar, considering that Ike had asked him to be his wingman where Elriss was concerned. He turns back to look at the woman in the trenchcoat for a few moments, his head ****ing quizzically--- Now why was...wasn't that his own Mark on her soul? Why in Dis would he have tagged a person like that? He would have to ask later, perhaps.
Mar wanders outside, and a breeze ruffles his hair slightly. Yes, a breeze--- On an asteroid. Apparently sitting in the middle of deep space with no atmosphere. He watches as Ike uses a small bit of Mass from his Father and nods, smiling. He doesn't want to offer advice or get in his brother's way just yet, but he makes his presence known with a small wave.
-
Yarin reached into his satchel and pulled out some jewels and other precious stones. "Will these be acceptable as legal tender?" He said as he put them on the bar.
-
Myitt glances idly at Elriss. "My host's thoughts are my business, and none of yours," she says coolly.
She smiles sweetly at Nareth. "Mm, well, I'm already leaving," she mutters, tromping toward the door.
The bartender simply stares at Yarin. The yellow notepad sits on the counter, untouched. Finally the bartender extends a calloused, pale-skinned hand, and accepts the jewels as tender. He does not smile or acknowledge Yarin in any other way, and turns to begin making Yarin's orders.
-
Elriss follows Ike out the door, barely stopping to shoot Myitt a glare as she goes.
The second the breeze hits her, she feels a little better, but soon the sweat is cooling on her skin and she finds herself shivering.
She steadies herself, pressing her eyes shut, and breathes deep. This is no time to be showing this level of weakness. Unfortunately, as the effects of her hangover seem to settle a bit-- she actually feels... almost a comforting warmth, being outside here with Ike and... ugh... and Mar-- she becomes more ac acutely aware of how hungry she actually is. She won't have long before she needs to feed.
Finally, she straightens herself and turns to Ike, her demeanor almost professional, save the small curl of a smile on her lips. "Thanks, hon," she says. "I'm sure the Empire's scientists will be fascinated by your little... anomaly. In the meantime, I'm getting a little hungry. Any chance y'can pull a portable Kandrona outta those pockets of yours?"
-
"Hmm. I'm afraid that the Yeerk equivalent of manna from heaven may be beyond me. If you left your host and I could have physical contact with you, I may be able to restore you for a short time. That probably wouldn't be ideal in your opinion, though, as I would not willingly hold your host captive and you would be defenseless." Ike said.
"If you need something more like a three day full recharge, likely without leaving your host, I'd have to perform a ritual to contact my God. He would, of course, want something in exchange. A spiritual contract according to how much you need."
"Either way, I can't pull a small portable machine out of my coat for you." Ike hoped he wasn\'t being too forward for this. It was possible she may just laugh him off, but brushes with death can motivate people to do things they wouldn't ordinarily do.
-
Nareth watches Myitt leave, scowling a little, but not bothering to follow. Now that Elriss is gone he seems to have calmed quite a bit, and his earlier threat to leave seems all but forgotten.
"Kreteni," he mutters, sliding back into his chair and gesturing for the bartender to serve him once he is done with the newcomer. "I suppose I should not have expected much relaxation from a place like this."
-
James blinks as Myitt and Nareth split apart, evidently indicating that they should not be seen together. Which must mean they are both part of the same rebel organization, but Nareth is attempting to hide this fact. James puzzles momentarily over what he should do. "Bartender, another small coffee," James says, holding up his right hand. The Bartender nods and darts toward the back of the Bar--- Which appears to be where he gets the supplies he uses to mix drinks. ...any drink. Even good fresh coffee.
James then glances down toward Nareth and offhandedly states, "Is there a problem with your poorly-dressed friend?"
-
Elriss stares at Ike. He seems to know a lot... an awful lot... she frowns, and for a moment even considers his offer. But no... without first securing Rose, Elriss will end up hostless at best, and more likely dead, if she leaves her host to allow Ike to perform whatever crazy god-ritual-magic he's talking about.
"Appreciate the offer, hon," she says with a diplomatic smile, "but I think I'll try to find something a bit more... concrete than your voodoo." She looks around at the parking lot, hulks of ships surrounding the bar. It seems there are far fewer that work than that don't, at this point... what, she wonders dully, a chill running down her spine, has happened to the occupants of all the others? Maybe this place has a more sinister motive than simply some... higher power's amusement. She searches her memory, and realizes she's not sure what happened to many of the people who were here earlier. They seem to have just... disappeared...
Shaking her head, she looks around at the working ships. She knows there's a Blade Ship in orbit... if she can get there... or if she can find a Yeerk ship with Kandrona aboard...
Myitt and Renlath must have gotten here somehow, she thinks. "So," she mutters, half to herself, "what do we think the odds are that any of these ships are up to Imperial standard?"
-
"I understand. It's never an easy thing to completely trust someone. Especially when you're vulnerable." Ike said. "It's possible one of those ships in the junkyard is a Yeerk ship with a spare supply. It couldn't hurt to look." He started walking over to the wrecks near the bar, keeping an eye on Elriss to make sure she was coming. He couldn't say he knew exactly what he was looking for, so he'd need her help to narrow any search down.
-
Mar watches Elriss and Ike talk, looking to see if there is any way he can assist his friend. It, looks, however, as if Elriss is too ill to woo over to any form of conversion. He glances idly at the hundreds of derelict ships parked in the Bar's parking lot, some of them rotting. Elriss glances over at them with a disturbed look on her face. Mar does not know what the worry is about--- It was clear to him that the Highest ate half of everyone who entered as part of their tab.
"I suppose I'll head back inside," states Mar with a slight smile, giving Ike a bit of a wink. "I presume you can find this young maiden what she desires. Good tidings, brother."
Mar wanders back across the parking lot with a smirk to himself. That will give the young casanova time with his prize. I wouldn't want to get in the way. Mar cheerfully pushes open the doors to the Bar, noting the thinning crowd. But there are still a few interesting patrons, one of them being...the Highest. The Highest that felt far too much like him......Mar rubs his forehead irritably. There was definitely something wrong with that idea--- A contradiction.
Mar wanders toward the Highest, giving him a wary glance, and states just to be certain, "<From whence have you come, strange one? You're of a powerful brood.>" He hopes that will be both very clear to a Highest and less-than-disturbing to the other patrons. He remembered with some amusement his attempt to say his name in front of Salem the last time he was here.
-
The stranger continues watching the bar patrons as they leave. He takes some ease in the fact that the Sworn and Avatar leave as well, finally able to enjoy his drink somewhat. As much as he could enjoy it while under the thumb of a much more-Massive Highest. But after only a few minutes, the Avatar returns, and not only that, but approaches him straight out.
He tenses a bit, but the proximity allows him to feel the other much more-clearly than before. He's definitely a Primal Avatar, but he bears the mark of another Highest as well, just as a Sworn would...how odd.
"<My origins are my own to keep.>" He considers leaving it at that, but a quick glance at the BT reassures him of his safety from others as well as his peril from the BT. Perhaps a friend in here wouldn't be the worst idea. "<I am sorry, but my past is painful. I am Nyr.>" All technically true, of course, though it sounds completely different from the actual truth.
-
"Nyr" tastes very odd to the Highest's mind. He has heard some variant of these concepts before...once. A burning fire in the hearth, a longing, the deep and forbidding waters of emotion. Not long after he came from the Father. But the memory is distant, and strangely hidden from his sight--- Something important happened there, something he is trying to forget. Mar nods, getting the gist of Nyr's statements. <You are not the only one in this Bar who can lay claim to such memories.> Mar lingers on the last statement, images of his own past shimmering into view. Or was it the present?
<All of those who stop in this "place" are running from something. My name is...>
Mar frowns, finding himself strangely unable to say his own name. What? Why would that be? He was very proud of who he was! He was the great Bard upon the throne of Heaven, the Singer, He who praises the Majesty and Light of his God. Proclaiming his name was proclaiming his function, and thus glorifying his Master. He...
"I am known as Mar by the patrons," he manages to stumble out in a human language. "You have picked a particularly dangerous hole in which to drink yourself to death."
-
"Part choice, part circumstance. The entire multiverse is dangerous, particularly when one is hunted." Nyr shrugs. "If the serpent's den offers haven, one dances with the snake." Nyr's eyes flash at the BT for a moment before returning to Mar. "Mar...it sounds familiar...one of the keepers of Mortality perhaps?" His eyes flash to the soulstone in the Avatar's gauntlet. So...this particular Avatar is important to the Highest...perhaps even its primary, just as Nyr is his own. Perhaps imbued with enough Mass to be...but that would be irresponsible.
"What will you imbibe?" Nyr captions his question by gesturing at Mar with his glass before taking another swallow of the jet-black liquid within. Not exactly a warm invitation for Mar to join him, but an invitation nonetheless.
-
Mar closes his eyes and thinks on this, before smiling and stating, "The usual fine wine, as before," to the Bartender. The Bartender nods and wanders towards the back of the Bar without another word. When he does come back, he isn't carrying the frothy red drink that Mar expects him to be carrying. He is instead carrying back a glittering drink that seems to be a shade somewhere between peach and bright gold. Mar's eyes widen in surprise, but he nonetheless accepts the offer. You don't pass up ambrosia.
Mar takes a slow sip of the drink, breathing out in pleasure after he swallows it. It's either that the Bartender respects fine noble company, or he's going to have to pay in blood later for the favor. "Mortality, no," he states. "Persuasion, yes--- And I recall being once associated with illusions and deceit. Manipulation. Before my Father forgave me, at least. Be wary of the Primal holding court here--- This place tends to..."
Mar frowns. "...distort the truth and bend one's sense of Time."
-
Nyr raises his eyebrows at the glass that the BT hands to Mar. Even if he's never had it personally, he can recognize what the glass contains. Mother had had it before he'd been created. He twitches a bit as a flash of pain racks through his body. His eyes lighten to a deep golden color for a moment before fading back down to their usual dark reddish purple. He grits his teeth for a moment, but otherwise displays few other signs that anything is wrong. He willfully avoids touching the weapon on his back, take the burden with the boon.
"Being physically inside another Mass does afford that Mass a great deal of power upon one's personal reality. But the effects can be resisted with some effort, and enough of one's own Mass." He ignores the BT's almost-cruel grin. "He has not yet destroyed me, not that He would be completely successful if He tried, but I believe He finds me...entertaining."
"Ah...a trickster then. Bargains with, let me guess, Mortals for their soul-Mass?" He chuckles a bit. Mother would be older than this one...truth be told, Mother is older than a lot of Primals. Technically Nyr is much younger, yet he has memories much older than himself. "I believe He finds you interesting as well. I can't say that I blame Him...a Primal's Avatar, perhaps even a primary representative of His Mass, bearing the mark and influence of another Primal entirely? Very interesting indeed."
-
When Nyr mentioned that Mar was an avatar with the mark of another primal entirely, the being that currently inhabited mar took notice. The creatures that inhabited mortals belonging to The One were usually passive, unless something drew their interest. If Nyr could detect its presence, and convinced Mar to attempt to exorcise it, it would have to take action. This thing called Nyr could be a threat, and if so must either be brought under The One's control or destroyed. A servant of The One could usually take over a host and alter its memories so that it didn't remember that happening, but Mar was not a normal host. It wasn't sure what it could truly do with its host, but it must use everything in its power to keep Mar.
-
With a frown, Elriss trudges off after Ike, towards the wrecks, sighing in relief when Mar decides not to join them. "Couldn't hurt," she says.
After considering a few ships in the yard, she walks purposefully towards one of them-- a late-model Bug fighter, its landing feet half-covered in dirt and dust, the ****pit dented in, scorch marks along the side, and just a hint of what might be moss growing on the underbelly...
Groaning in disgust, she reaches out to press the panel that will open the hatch. Nothing happens. Sighing, she keys in her priority emergency start code, expecting the same result, but to her surprise, the Bug shudders, dies, shudders again, and finally rumbles to life, the low hum of the power generators interspersed with periodic high-pitched squeaks.
"Open sesame," she says, pressing the command to open the hatch. It slides open, letting out a musty... almost rotting... stench. The inside lights, however, appear to be off, for whatever reason.
Elriss glances at Ike. "Ladies first?" she offers with a smirk, gesturing for him to step inside.
-
Ike's nose crinkles as the stale air, mixed with who knows what, wafted out of the old Yeerk ship. He gave a sarcastic ha ha at Elsriss' remark. "Age before beauty." He said, stepping inside. It was dark in the ship, but some light filtered through the door and they could at least see somewhat in the main room. He started opening cabinets, and taking things out to put on the console to use it as a shelf. Spare parts, medical supplies, a spare dracon, and some other random stuff. He coughed a bit at the disturbed dust. "See anything good?"
-
Elriss's eyes twinkle at Ike's 'age before beauty' remark. Definitely cute, for being a... missionary, or cultist, or whatever he is. She sneezes at the dust Ike's kicked up and steps into the ship, pausing for a moment as her eyes adjust.
A quick look around reveals that this is a little better stocked than a Bug fighter would be for an average day trip, but not by much, and there's nothing resembling a Kandrona generator immediately obvious. She snatches the Dracon that Ike's disturbed, examines it for a moment, and then pops the power cell out of the one in her holster and into the new one. She lets the sticky Dracon she'd found inside clatter to the deck and hoists the new one-- she appreciates the heft, the extra settings, the ergonomic grip. It's an earlier model Gen 3, from right before the Taxxon Rebellion forced them to go back to producing cheaper, less durable models. Not perfect, but it would do in a pinch.
She opens a few more drawers, making mental notes of some of the supplies that are in here that might come in handy. She checks drawer after drawer, and with each, her disgust grows, until finally she slams shut the larger medical storage locker near the rear of the cabin so hard it sends medical instruments feet away tumbling to the ground.
"Nothing," she spits. A wave of dizziness washes over her, and she has to catch herself against a console. "Kandrona generators are hardly standard equipment on a ship like this," she says bitterly.
-
"I'm sorry." Ike said, not really knowing what else to say. Elriss was dying, and there wasn't a quick fix. Not without calling on The One, which she was opposed to. Even if they found some kandrona, she would want her host restrained, and he couldn't allow that. They'd likely get into a confrontation. Probably the best way would be to find what they needed, and stun her with his own weapon tucked inside his coat.
I guess bugfighters don't usually go too far from a larger ship with its own kandrona supply? We might as well continue checking around. Unless you want to cut some sort of deal with N-Renlath. I may be able to trade something for a small supply."
-
Mar watches Nyr's peculiar reaction and frowns, twirling a finger around the rim of his glass of ambrosia. His posture is relaxed, as if he feels more at home around another Highest avatar than not. Perhaps a dangerous mentality, given the threats the Highest tend to pose to one another. "Are you...contaminated by something?" Mar states, rubbing his head as he suddenly remembers a fairly similar phenomenon that once happened to him. It was painful, wasn't it? Exhausting. "I recall something vaguely similar happening to me in this Bar. But..."
"...what do you mean, another Primal's influence?" states Mar. He felt something move within his Mass, something strange. Something important. "I work on behalf of my Father, but reckoning descent from Him is akin to saying that fish live in the sea. No influence of His would be apparent."
-
Nyr chuckles though his eyes flash dangerously. "Contaminated...some thing like that. I have been forced to take...measures...i n order to protect myself. There are some unfortunate side-effects, though the primary purpose of my burden has thus-far held true and proved to be a valuable asset in my difficulties." He isn't sure what he'd do if Mar figured out even a half of what the weapon on his back truly is...perhaps nothing. Different Highest reacted differently to it. Some merely didn't care, or at least pretended not to care.
Nyr ****s an eyebrow at Mar. "Interesting...truly . Do you not know your own origins? Or has your mind been tampered with? It is plain to see that that which makes up your primary Mass belongs to one Primal, whilst the mark of another lies upon you. It is the same mark which enthralls the human you were associating with earlier." He sips from his glass, using the pause to consider. It might be worth it...potentially a Highest's primary Avatar indebted to him...perhaps it would be worth the risk...
Nyr sets his glass on the bar and slowly runs his finger around the lip. "You know, I have methods which should be able to sever that link with the foreign Primal, should you desire...I have a feeling that you are...not yourself at the moment."
-
The creature in Mar doubted that this Nyr could remove him, but he made it uneasy. Back at the ship, Ike started feeling uncomfortable. Like maybe he should check on Mar. He didn't want to just leave Elriss, though.
-
"No problem," Nareth says with a small smile. "And I would not call her a friend, precisely." He sighs, rolling the tumbler between his two perfectly manicured hands, staring at the back panel of the bar without really seeing it.
"I should leave," he says, but he makes no move to stand. Instead, he gives James an appraising look. "What exactly has brought you here, moj prijatelj?"
<<We really should leave,>> his host urges, to no avail.<<Before Elriss returns.>>
-
"Not myself?" murmured Mar, not precisely rejecting nor accepting the idea. He took another sip of ambrosia. An odd, peaceful expression crossed over his face. "But I am more myself than I have been in years. If it is my mind that is addled, then it has done me much good. I am home again. But..."
Mar's eyes suddenly take on a strong look. "...my Father is just. If I am being deceived, I want the deception removed. Just don't involve the mortal. Ike is a friend."
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"Interest," states James, giving all of his attention to Nareth. "There seem to be multiple sides to this Yeerk conflict, and it's clear that none of them agree with one another. You seem to be trying to avoid Elriss at least, which must mean that one of you is an outlaw and the other is not. Of the two, I'm going to guess that the outlaw is you. You seem to know the trenchcoat chick."
Truth be told, he was here because of horrid luck. But interest sounded better, and it wasn't untrue.
-
Nareth's carefully composed features twitch a little, but he smooths his expression out quickly. "'Trenchcoat chick', as you call her, is well known throughout the Yeerk Empire," he says levelly. "The fact that I recognize her is not particularly strange." He raises his voice, "Bartender, another, molim vas." He brings the tumbler to his lips, empties it neatly, and sets it back on the counter, pushing it away from him and waiting for his refill.
<<Nareth.>> The urging of his host is becoming more pronounced. Nareth wonders curiously whether Dom's insistence is due to true fear, or to the alcohol coursing through their shared veins. Probing at his mind, he finds no clear answer, and dismisses it.
"If you wish to know more about the Yeerk conflict," Nareth says aloud instead, voice dry, "I could certainly introduce you quite intimately with it."
-
Nyr drains the contents of his tumbler in one gulp before speaking further. "Deceived...possesse d...whatever you wish to call it." Nyr places a hand on Mar's wrist and probes him further, closely examining his Mass. "I can see thin filaments of the other's Mass woven through and around your primary connection with your own Mass. It looks as though they are using you to attempt to invade your primary Mass in an almost...parasitic. ..method."
He removes his hand, grimacing a bit. "It would be possible to isolate those filaments of foreign Mass and sever them...there is not enough foreign Mass possessing you to 'live' without the connection. But there is danger...there could be some...collateral.. .damage. Some of your primary connection could be damaged or severed in the process. Of course I could simply sever your entire connection with your primary and this other...you have enough of your parent Mass to survive and become your own Primal. But it would be painful, and you would be very weak for quite some time thereafter."
-
Mar squirmed uncomfortably. Something about what the other Highest was saying rang true, but painfully true--- As if he did not truly want to hear what Nyr was saying. Mar shuddered. Something dangerous echoed in the back of his mind. He wanted to escape. Run away. That was the real reason another Primal was threaded through him. Mar stood up, his posture wavering.
He gave Nyr a sideways glance. "Yes, but who is the deceiver and who is the deceived..." He murmured, as if thinking to himself.
"If this...thing...is attempting to invade my primary Mass, then I cannot allow it to succeed," he stated more calmly to Nyr. "It would be both against my faith and, I believe, dangerous for a great number of people. I do not think that my Higher self particularly cares whether I live or die, so I do not mind the loss of some of my connection. I do not think becoming a Highest myself would suit me..."
It was true. A harbinger of God probably was too busy to worry about an obscure link in a backwater Bar in the middle of nowhere.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
James did notice Nareth's reaction, although he tried to hide it. James had been told he was persnickety like that. He decided not to press the issue because judging from the Yeerk's past reactions to Myitt, he didn't want to talk about it. But James was for his part very interested in whatever it was the Yeerks didn't want to talk about. Now how could he get that information and still remain cautious...
He then heard Nareth's words, ****ed an eyebrow and said, "Okay I'll bite. What do you have in mind?"
...apparently he couldn't be cautious. Or he was calling Nareth's bluff about being Imperial. He wasn't sure. On the off chance he made an impulsive decision, it surprised him as much as anyone else.
-
"Infestation," Nareth responds promptly. "One of my people, in your mind. They would be capable of sharing the entire story, quite vividly." His refill arrives and he wraps his fingers around it, not sipping immediately. He is already feeling the first two glasses, and knows that the third may thoroughly impair his judgment.
"If you are interested," he continues, "I could retrieve one of my colleagues from my ship."
-
Nyr watches Mar, but does not stand himself. "I would be lying if I claimed to be certain of what this other Highest is actually attempting to accomplish. I can only conjecture from what little I see and what I would attempt to do given a similar opportunity. I do not know if the threads extend through this "Ike," or if you suffer a purely direct connection with the foreign Mass." He allows the implication to hang...he really has no idea if the severing will cause Ike pain or discomfort, though the connection with the Mass would likely protect him from annihilation.
Nyr strokes the weapon on his back a moment before continuing. "This weapon, it is special. I'm certain you have already noticed its aura. I am just as certain that you already know its name. It is called 'Dawn Shard,' and it is very effective at cutting dark-alligned Primal Mass, though it can cut the light as well given the proper...preparatio ns. You would be touched by its light in the severing. I can shield you from it somewhat, but it is impossible for me to protect you completely from its aura. It will...burn. But only for a few moments."
-
Mar stiffened, looking over Nyr's weapon with a very wary expression. An image of a beautiful silver blade with an elaborately constructed hilt flashed through his mind. A katana with a similar sheen entered his mind, and he rather involuntarily grasped some of the fabric on his chest. What? What were these memories of, exactly? Conversing with Nyr was getting increasingly difficult. Something squirmed and practically screamed inside him.
Nonetheless when he spoke, his voice rang out cold and harshly passionate. It was utterly different in character from the voice he had spoken in with Nyr, but would be familiar to someone in the Bar. "I have never seen the weapon before, but I have heard of this Dawn Shard among the old heads of our Council. I am well-known enough that my place is assured, and with that in mind they never dared to involve me. I know too well of weapons of its same kind-- There is too much history."
"Nonetheless..." Mar shuddered again, as if trying to hold onto their conversation. "...I understand the risks. Do it."
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"No way," said James without a hint of hesitation. "If you're trying to coerce me into something so you people can follow me around everywhere, I'm out. I won't have anyone else messing around in my body!" James crossed his arms and tried to look firm.
"What good is it to hide information in a place like this, though?" said James with a shrug. "The evidence suggests I'm not even from the same region of space that you are."
-
Nyr nods, his eyes flashing dangerously with an internal light. "Very well...you understand that I will require your...friendship.. .in exchange." He stands, moving toward the bar exit. "Perhaps outside would be better...to avoid the prying eyes." He exits the bar sedately, walking off a way into the forest clearing, trusting Mar to follow.
-
In the ship, Ike felt a sense of dred. Something bad was about to happen.
"I'm soprry, Elriss, but I must go. I am needed elsewhere. We'll pick up where we left off if I can."
Ike left the ship behind. He needed to find Mar. Something was calling out to him. It was both wary and angry. The Spirit of The One needed his assistance. He broke out into a run towards the bar.
-
Mar follows Nyr warily, maintaining his suddenly proud upright posture. He moved as if he constantly had somewhere to go. "What do you mean by "friendship?" said Mar, following Nyr. "You mean that if you are attacked I must swear to act as your ally under an Unbreakable Vow? I suppose I can live with that, if it means..."
Mar gulps, stumbling in mid-stride. He suddenly had a pounding, insistent headache. He felt as if he were fighting himself. "Agh!" He glanced at Nyr. "...I think someone is trying to...st--stop us..."
-
"At least while I am here, in essence...yes. Though I say I would appreciate simple companionship alongside said assistance." He turns to regard Mar, the foreign Mass almost seems to writhe within him. "As much as I would savor such a beneficial partnership beyond this place, I understand the limitations our kind may face." He looks on, almost seeming impassive. "I'm certain it will try...you are a prize for it, a rare bauble that could lead to greater treasures. It will guard you jealously until it has you completely enthralled. But I'm sure you know all of this already."
Without preamble, Nyr pulls the staff from his back with his right hand, the weapon shifting imperceptibly to a beautiful gold and silver katana. A dark cloud seems to envelope Nyr, his Mass pooling visibly to shroud the two dark Highest from the weapons blinding brilliance. Nyr holds the weapon behind him, causing his darkened silhouette to backlight, long hair flaring out behind him. "Sen! Soretsu!" He turns the weapon round to cross his own chest, curved blade facing upward, and drives it toward Mar's chest tip-first, his obvious intent to impale the avatar.
-
Ike sprinted toward Mar and Nyr's location, and saw Mar grab his head in pain. Nyr pulled out a weapon, and used magic to envelop the two of them. He pulled his gun out, and something inside him knew this was an enemy that must be brought down. His gun had two barrels, with one firing bullets and another firing beams. Usually he'd do one or the other, but this time he chose both.
"Get away from him!" He yelled as the shroud engulf him. Even though his eyes didn't see them, he knew where Nyr was, and let loose several shots. It wasn't like him to use his weapon like this at once. When in danger, he had other means to avoid conflict withut really hurting anyone. Something made him go immediately for the kill shot.
-
As Ike had last spoken, Elriss had noticed something-- the cabin of this Bug Fighter seems shorter than she's used to. After a brief investigation, she'd discovered that the rear had been a false wall, and had been so intent on prying it open that it had barely registered in her mind when Ike left. As long as she kept moving... kept busy... she didn't notice the growing hunger.
Finally, she gives up and simply melts the hinges on the false bulkhead with her Dracon. She takes several steps backwards to avoid the heat and fumes given off by the melting metal. Before she can step forward to finally rip the bulkhead free, however, she hears the sound of weapons fire coming from outside.
"The hell?" she mutters. She steps outside, looking around cautiously, Dracon in hand. There, across the field, are people... Ike? Sprinting across the field... firing shots at the other two figures?
"At least this place will never get old," she mutters, setting off towards them at a brisk walk. The hidden compartment could wait.
-
Mar's body tenses up as Nyr raises the sword above his chest. The entity Nyr seemed to be referencing was writhing in fear and panic, sensing the loss of its host. Mar himself feels a terrible loss about to take place, a truth about to be revealed that he was deliberately allowing the other Highest to hide from him. But Mar was, if nothing else, a proud creature with a lust for the Truth provided by his almighty, all-Knowing....*Blam Blam! TSEEEW*
Shots were ringing out with perfect accuracy across the field, either hitting or missing Nyr---Mar is not paying attention. There was blood seeping through his shirt from a sword wound to his chest. Mar is not even paying attention to that. What he is paying attention to is the bright light of the being that only he seems to be able to see. Possibly because he is, in fact, lying on the ground bleeding out. He is only standing in his mind, and somehow he knows this.
<Is this really what You want?> says the being, seeming worried for him. He trusts the creature.
<I want the Truth!> Mar says toward it in anger. <You deceived me!>
<You only deceived that avatar,> the being says warmly, despite what it is actually conveying. <You used Me for Your own selfish fantasies of redemption. We indulged Our Child.>
<And why should I agree to let You come back?! Why should I even allow you to dare control ME?!> Vicious, hateful black tendrils surged into the edges of the scene.
<Because I do not intend to simply disappear. If You don't let Me re-establish a connection, Your friend and My servant will find another way. He is terribly persistent. Besides...I don't have to deceive the Avatar to maintain order. There is a better way, you know. A way with Me, through Me. We could stop it from happening together. You don't have to die!> The being's concern sounded absolutely genuine in that last statement.
<You must be joking,> Mar says, shaking his head sadly. <You could not possibly do that.>
<Oh I intend to,> the being said, trembling with the weight of Its ambition. <I intend to be everything. I intend to save everyone. Nothing will be spared, and nothing will truly suffer or perish. Your dream made real, Prince. There is a gentler way.>
The being meant what It said. It may have been hubris. In fact it almost certainly was. But Mar smiled nastily. <Fine. I yield for now, if You will let Me be Me.>
And with that Mar returned, gasping for air.
-
Nyr hisses as the thrall's rounds pierce his shoulder, his leg, his hip. He senses a surge of energy from the foreign Mass, swelling to some sort of crescendo. Perhaps he'd underestimated the true power of this foreign Mass. He quickly withdraws the Dawn Shard from Mar's body as the avatar collapses...perhaps he'd underestimated the avatar's resilience. He lunges down to the ground as two rather large black-feathered wings sprout and unfurl from his back, both to duck out of Ike's line of fire, and to plunge his index and middle finger of his free hand into the wound in Mar's body.
He pushes small tendrils of his own Mass through the light-opened wound in the being's very fabric. He attempts to wrap his Mass around the foreign Mass, in an attempt to rip the Mass from Mar's body, but the foreign Mass seems to meld more closely with Mar's...making the connection stronger. His own Mass is unable to pull the tendrils of the invader free of Mar's energy. He curses under his breath...the avatar couldn't take much more of this...with a wince, Nyr withdraws the majority of his own Mass, leaving only a small tendril inside Mar, a connection that hopefully no one would notice...he didn't know exactly what he might do with the connection, but such things could prove to be incredibly useful in unanticipated ways. He uses his energy to repair the majority of the wound in Mar's chest, though the Light would certainly leave a scar on the being's Mass.
He grunts as another of Ike's shots tears through one of his suddenly-formed wings. He wouldn't be able to carry Mar away with these injuries...he snarls in Ike's direction, his eyes glowing fiercely. "You are lucky this one asked for you to remain unharmed, thrall." He slashes the Dawn Shard randomly in Ike's general direction before pumping his wings powerfully and launching off the ground, revealing Mar's prone form. "It is unfortunate that you short-lived mortals are so-easily manipulated. You have caused this one untold pain, and yet your Master's deceptions hold within you. May you know the truth of the darkness you have so-willingly served before your mortal life ends."
With no further preamble, he soars off in the direction of the lake, seeking some place quiet to recover from the thrall's surprisingly-effective attacks. He stows the Shard across his back as he reaches the center of the lake. He wraps his wings around himself, plunging to the bottom. He probes his connection with Mar, feeling the avatar's mind in perhaps the most-intimate way possible. Yes, the tiny connection was still there, and so far, unnoticed.
-
Mar gasps over and over again, grasping at where wound on his chest was in panic and surprise. His eyes widen in shock, and his body shudders and shakes uncontrollably. Human bodies were not designed to survive wounds like this, and when they do the results are traumatic. Nor are they designed to heal so quickly.
"H-Hel-Help Me!" Mar cries out in panic and fear toward Ike. He glances around, completely terrified, looking for anything familiar. Ike, his brother, is the only thing that he finds. Mar edges across the grass slowly toward him.
The Highest has rarely looked so disheveled in his long life, and never at the Bar. Only the certainty that the One is still watching, and a strange hint of a concerned other, prevents Mar from screaming bloody murder.
-
Ike rushes to Mar when Nyr flies off. He holds his friend, whoc should be dying from such a wound but isn't. "Are you alright, Mar? why did that guy attack you, then heal your wound?" What Nyr had said didn't really register in his panicked mind yet. "I need to get you checked out on my ship. There's no telling what that guy might have done to you. can you walk?" He wasn't sure if he could carry Mar, and he certainly wouldn't be able to defend him if he tried.
He looked towards the lake, where the enemy had flown. Hopefully he wouldn't come back too quickly.
-
Mar looks towards Ike worriedly and then slowly stood up on wobbly legs. He was still breathing way too deeply and quickly for it to be remotely healthy. He leans on Ike, exhausted. Nyr had...yes. Oh yes, now it was clear.
When Mar finally does say something, his words come out harsh and cold. "...I asked Nyr to show me the Truth, as someone appeared to be deceiving me. And now I see it again. I have...not returned Home. I have simply agreed to a temporary and possibly fruitless alliance with you and your Father. But I have nonetheless still agreed brother, and here we are."
He was not sure whether he wanted to thank Nyr or slaughter him. He suspected that was usually the case in relations between Highest. He would see the creature again.
-
"He claimed to be able to show you the 'truth', which involved stabbing you with a sword?" Ike asked. "How about the next time you agree to something like that, make sure it doesn't look like the guy is trying to kill you to do it."
"I'm glad you decided to stick with me, even if The One isn't exactly who you think he is. Whether that's really true or not, given that you don't know this guy and I don't see a reason to trust him."
He helped Mar back to the ship, keeping a wary eye on his surroundings. Once at the ship, he guided Mar to a table where he could use the tech to get some information and see if anything else was wrong. He also brought one of the orbs that allowed a connection to The one, and placed it by the table to get a spiritual sense of what Nyr took out or put inside him.
"He'll probably be back, to finish what he plans to do to you. I don't want to be walking around, armed to the teeth, though. It would be best if we could lay some sort of trap for him. I may need to ask The One for a favor if he's going to start attacking my friends. I'm not sure exactly what I'd need, though."
-
Elriss skids to a stop as the newcomer, the strange one, unfurls wings. The feeling she gets from him... from all three of these people... is something akin to fear, or maybe love, or a terrible, childlike sense of wonderment. There is more going on here than she realizes... and for a moment, she can see. There are possibilities untold at this bar... endless worlds that can be opened up, explored, devoured by the Empire... if she chooses to include the Empire. She could always simply see what lies on the road ahead without them...
The thought... rather, the incomplete thought that is little more than a feeling passes quickly, and she is left feeling dizzy, and even hungrier than before. Her time to find a source of Kandrona is running short. She watches cynically as the newcomer flies away, then returns her eyes to Ike and Mar. She steps closer, so far unnoticed, and listens to what they have to say.
She hesitates when Ike begins to help Mar towards his ship. She doesn't like Mar... and really, she's just using Ike, isn't she? Her time is short and there's work to be done... there's nothing to be gained from helping these two at the moment... so why the hesitation?
"I swear you're rubbing off on me," she mutters to her host as she steps to Mar's side, helping Ike half-walk, half-carry him to a ship.
When she finally speaks, her breath is shorter than it should be, and her voice is raspy. "Oh, sure," she says sarcastically, "let's just get into a fight with the telekinetic winged harbinger of stabbing people in the chest. What a great idea that was, gentlemen." She looks disdainfully at the orbs Ike has brought out. "What is this, granny's down-home magic medicine? Ike, honey, do you have any real medical supplies?"
-
"I'm not sure what happened to make that guy stab Mar in the chest, but I couldn't just do nothing about it."
"I have an array of modern technology, but in case you haen't noticed this problem is not purely physical. There are spiritual forces going on here that you may not be aware of." He said. "Unless you think those wings that sprouted were mechanical in nature?"
"Thanks for helping, though."
-
"He was trying to remove the One from association with me, at my request," stated Mar, lying down on the table in front of Ike. "The sword was merely a means to an end. I care little for this body." Mar took off his jacket, vest, and shirt so that Ike could see the utter absence of the wound. His heart rate and demeanor were still tense, however. Mar looked toward Elriss with a wry grin. "...interesting that you are now involved, Yeerk."
Ike's instruments detected no significant alterations to Mar's Mass, although it seemed to be far more active and perhaps virulent than it was previously. Its tendrils were twisted around the light belonging to his Father in an intricate pattern. It was almost like a dance.
"Ike, I doubt he plans to finish," Mar states, his reaction somewhat delayed. "Although it would be wise of you to petition our mutual friend for an advantage should a threat arise."
-
"Why would something like that come up? If you hae become dissatisfied with being with The One, you could have come to me or possibly prayed to The One yourself. Or did this guy bring up something, and convince you to let him stab you?" Ike said with concern and skepticism. The machines finished their scans, and Ike checked them. "Ok, there's nothing physically wrong with you that I can tell. I also didn't see anything that he might have taken out or put inside you."
"I'll try to figure something out about this. I would suggest not letting yourself be alone with this guy again. I know I'm not your boss, and you may not need your body, but that's my advice."
-
"I can agree to that request," says Mar, shrugging a bit. "Unless the Highest says something else which catches my interest. But there are multiple ways one can skin a cat, and many ways to communicate that do not involve having bodies." Mar slowly sits up off the table, attempting to adjust to the sudden physical shock he had gone through. A tingling runs up and down his body, similar to somebody's foot being asleep, and Mar shakes his right arm as if to get it out of his system.
"This guy, as you put it, brought up the strange link between our Father and me," Mar says. "I realized that I had been...using my relationship with our Father to deceive myself. Tricking myself into believing I could go home again. But you know what they say! You can never go home again."
Mar shrugs with a wry smirk on his face. "Oh, and give that lady some Kandrona if you have any. She did come all the way here."
-
"Honestly I would take anything that Highest says with a handful of salt. I can't force you to not listen to him, so I\ll just leave you with that advice. Some stranger said something's wrong with you, and runs you through with a sword. That's just a tad suspicious to me."
"I'm afraid I don't carry sources of Kandrona. There's not much I can do, unless she joins with us. Or if we can manage to steal some from the other controllers."
-
"You're absolutely right, although I view things from a...unique perspective," says Mar, holding back a laugh. He keeps stroking the spot where his wound used to be, as if unnerved that it had suddenly disappeared despite understanding the reason for its disappearance. Mar then sighs, noting his complete lack of muscle definition in his still bare chest. "This is depressing. I even have a bit of fat on me."
After a few moments, Mar states, looking at Ike, "Well, we're done here. If there is no Kandrona, we should move back to the Bar."
Mar picks up his shirt and puts it on, meticulously pushing down the wrinkles in it that he can.
-
Elriss listens to the conversation between Ike and Mar. When Ike scoffs at her supposed-ignorance in the matter of the nature that newcomer's wings, she sighs. The nature of whatever the crazies here are always going on about is still alien to her. "I swear, it's like you're all living in some fantasy world," she mutters under her breath. Talk of Highests and Mar not caring about 'this body' and everything else... they're not making a bit of sense. When Mar's wound seems to have disappeared, she blinks, but finds she's not even really surprised anymore.
"If you two want to go sit around and drink, fine," she says haughtily, "but I have ships to search. No Kandrona is sort of a big deal for me." With that, she turns and heads back into the shipyard, towards the Bug. At the very least, she has to see what's behind the hidden panel she found.
-
Nyr flexes his wounds underwater. They would still take time to heal, but the cool isolation at the bottom of the lake suits his purposes just fine. He once again probes Mar gently...yes, the shock seemed to be going away, or at least Mar's perception of it was dulling. Without pushing further, he would be able to tell little more, and pushing further might lead to detection.
-
The twilight air shivers and ripples, drawing back to reveal a black vessel, of traditional Yeerk design.
It's a Skimmer model, large enough to comfortably carry three or four passengers in addition to the pilot and co-pilot. It's also notably worn, with burn marks marring the black living metal hull.
As the ship lowers itself into the haphazard, alien parking lot, the nearby grass bends back, a hot wind making them double backwards. When the ship settles onto its landing gear the grass straightens back to attention. Bloodred lights dim and darken, and the whirring engine quiets, leaving a deep silence in its wake.
For a few long minutes, the ship sits there, closed and silent. When the hatch finally slides open, a human figure jumps to the ground without waiting for the ramp to extend. She is young -- no more than fifteen -- with long brown hair almost the exact shade of her eyes. Straightening, she shoulders a simple Jansport backpack and looks around, worrying her bottom lip.
"Not what I expected," she murmurs, a comment meant for no one and nothing. She glances back at her ship and calls for the hatch to close. Then, boots crunching over gravel and dirt, she begins to weave through the long-forgotten ships.
<<Are you sure this isn't a trap?>>
<<No.>>
The girl stops as she reaches the edge of the shipyard, the bar coming into view. Brown eyebrows lift at its dilapidated condition.
<<This is definitely a trap.>>
<<We don't know that for sure. Now be quiet.>>
Pulling the backpack onto both shoulders, she straightens her plain, gray tank top and strides to the bar, gaze wary. Pushing open the door with a shoulder, she blinks in the threshold, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light.
-
The last thing he remembers is the sound of the shot, and the ringing in his head as the bullet pierced his brain. Jeffrey Barnes has no idea where he is now---- If he's dead, alive, or something in between. Strange imagery sears in his mind, shimmering, as if iridescent--- It seemed to him that Rosie had betrayed him a thousand times, died a thousand times, fell in love a thousand times. The last thought remaining, the only one that it seemed like he had control over, was-- He had been unable to protect her. And he still cared about that. He still cared about that, even though his disease had driven him completely off the deep end! Jeffrey laughs at the absurdity of the whole thing as he lays on the pavement. Pavement?
"Huh," Jeffrey says, rubbing the back of his head. He reaches out his hand and discovers it is covered in blood. The wound is still there. "I should not be alive right now. Not be talking. Nope. Absolutely not. Dead men tell no tales!~ Is this it? Is this the Grey Havens?"
Jeffrey stands up abruptly, as if jumping to his feet, and whirls around rapidly. Ships, like spaceships from old 90s shows, dotted what seemed for all the world to be some sort of spaceship parking lot. Jeffrey snickers again. If this was the Grey Haven, it was about what he deserved, but it had to be the dullest, strangest afterlife he'd ever seen. He brushes off his white shirt and jacket and starts walking among the dilapidated ships. It was odd--- The place looked abandoned, like nobody had been here in ages but that it had been vacated all of a sudden. Jeffrey startles as soon as he sees that one of the ships had lights that had dimmed just moments ago! Jeffrey runs out from his spot to see if he can find one of the only things that still catches his interest--- Another. Living. Person.
Jeffrey sees the building pretty soon after the shipyard. He can't help but be baffled by how bizarre this whole situation is. It was like someone had gotten bored and fused a Western and a 50's space show together, like...Firefly, maybe? Gods, it had been too long since he'd dug through his archives to watch any Joss Whedon. The man had been the best of the late 2000s, really. Jeffrey pushes open the double doors to the building, noting that someone had come in shortly before him. A girl?
"Hey, uhh...honey, d'you know where this is? Are we dead?" said Jeffrey tentatively.
-
The voice startles the girl, and she jumps, one hand going to her chest and the other to the weapon at her side as she whirls around. Tense, she looks him up and down, eyes narrowed slightly as she takes the stranger in.
"What?" she asks, belatedly translating his words. "Dead?" Her grip on the gun loosens ever so slightly, but her shoulders remain tense. She doesn't directly answer the question, apparently finding it too absurd to deserve a response. Instead, she takes a step back, giving him room to step away from the doorway. "You're bleeding," she notes, a small frown etched on her freckled face.
-
((Description: The man was weird-looking, to be sure. He was dressed in a black vest and black pants, with a refined-looking white shirt underneath the vest. He appeared to be wearing some kind of necklace with a small emblem or symbol attached, which looked a bit like an ouroboros but with something more to it--- It was hard to see from here. His hair was black and matted, evidently sprayed into intentional-looking layers, and his eyes were dark brown. He definitely had a knife belt, too, equipped with some rather sharp-looking knives of various designs and purposes, stabbing or slicing--- but no gun.))
Jeffrey nods, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his head. "Of course I'm bleeding--- Somebody shot me in the freaking head! I was..." He squirmed slightly and looked away. "...it's not important right now. The wound is probably closing up fast at this point."
Jeffrey walks away from the door but doesn't try to fully close the gap between them, noting her gun and her defensive posture. This **** could kill me again right here if I make the wrong move, and I've got no idea if Regen blood works when you're dead. Or...here, wherever this might be. On the plus side, for once in my life, in thirty years I don't hear that horrible sound. That ringing. Does that mean I'm Mundane? "And...yeah hun, dead. I remember dying literally minutes ago. Do you know where we are?"
-
She blinks, then smirks, lips quirking upwards. "If you're dead, you're a medical miracle," she says. Deciding he means no immediate harm, she relaxes, removing her hand from the weapon. "We're in a bar. Evidently." Narrow shoulders lift in a shrug. "I haven't figured out more than that, my nav system went haywire before I landed. The coordinates don't make any sense at all." She peers up at him. "You look like you could use a drink."
-
"I could use a lot more than a drink, sweetcakes---Literally my entire life has gone to hell in the past two months," said Jeffrey. He smirked a bit, and then crossed the room and sat at a stool at the Bar, continuing to face her. He crossed his legs. "Name's Void Va--- You know what..." Jeffrey played with a strand of his hair. "...never mind. Not anymore. Jeffrey Richard Barnes. Ol' JRB. I hate my real name, but piss all on being a Supervillain anymore."
"What about you? Oh yeah, and I'd like a Crown and Coke on the rocks--- In honor of my girl," said Jeffrey, offhandedly to the bartender. The bartender immediately went to work.
-
The girl follows Jeffrey to the bar, keeping a reasonable distance and a wary eye. Her smirk turns into a grimace at the terms of endearment. "Sweetcakes?" she echoes, sliding onto a stool herself. "Do people actually say that?"
She waits for the bartender to notice her, then places a simple order for a glass of lemonade before eyeing him again. "Dalik Two-Eight-Four-Four the Prime," she says by way of introduction. "Nice to meet you...Jeffrey. You're human, then?"
-
"I do--- I like old-fashioned colloquialisms, dear, gives my personality a bit of color for the camera. And more or less, although by my century humans have uhhh...diversified a bit," says Jeffrey. "I'd show you, but..." Jeffrey clears his throat several times, and then coughs. In the meantime, the Bartender appears to have slid him his drink.
Jeffrey picks up the glass and takes a sip from it to clear his throat. His next words come out a bit gravelly, but his voice rapidly clears. "..don't think I can for some reason. Guess the Grim Reaper doesn't want me to right now. Basically, some people in my time have gotten powers, just like in the old comic books."
"So what's with that crazy name?" says Jeffrey.
-
"Powers?" Dalik echoes. She laughs -- a high-pitched, girlish sound. "My brother was been right. This place does draw all sorts." Her gaze narrows. "You're not from the same Earth as my host. No one has powers there. My people would have figured that out by now." She hesitates for a beat, then adds, "I suppose you'd consider my an alien. My species is called Yeerk. We're parasitic; this creature is my host." Tapping her chest she gives a rueful smile, then moves her hand to the lemonade that has magically appeared.
"So...what powers do you have?" she asks in a teasing tone, leaning forward to put her lips around the straw.
-
"The hell," a short, scrawny human male mumbles to himself, finding himself materialized in a strange parking lot. He looks around, surveying the landscape. Ships. Granted, not very many, but any spaceships would tip one off that something was amiss. Then again, waking up in a parking lot with no recollection of how one got there was a red flag in and of itself. "Great, another one of those dreams," he mumbles.
The human notices the shady, run-down building across the parking lot. "That's not suspicious at all," he says, making his way toward the entrance. He hears conversation through the doors, though what exactly is being said is unclear. Slowly, nervously, he pushes open the door. He's almost shocked when he sees that the building is a relatively standard bar, especially after such a strange parking lot. Dreams don't always make sense, he thought, cautiously making his way to the bar. Especially after a day like that. . . .
He sits a few stools away from the two humans at the bar, taking care not to make eye contact. Probably best just to wait it out and wake up when I can. Then I can get back to finding that son of a . . . "Whiskey sour, please," he says to the bartender in a gruff voice with a strangely untraceable accent. Just then, he felt a pang in his lungs. He finally looks over at the two characters seated at the bar - one male and one female. He notices the bleeding, gaping hole in the man's head. Best not to ask. "Hey, either of you got a smoke?"
-
"An alien? Cool! On my Earth, we never got around to finding aliens because we were too busy murdering each other!" Jeffrey said in an amused tone, sipping a bit of his drink. "By the time I was born, there's only one civilization and too many people in it. The world's a ****ing mess." He looked mildly intrigued by Dalik's next few statements. "And you're--- what, like a tapeworm or something? Yeerks...."
After a pause, he eventually says, "Sounds interesting. My powers, if they worked, are basically...You know the Purple Man? He was what by my time they'd call a Vocal Esper--- A person whose voice is hypnotic, so he can make people do whatever he says. Sounds like a broken record from my perspective, actually--- Horrible sound, but only to me. Everyone else hears whatever they most want me to sound like--- but not today!" He sounded relieved, for a person who'd lost his powers.
"Anyway, it's not as efficient as showbiz makes it out to be--- I can only make people believe whatever I tell 'em, doing's harder---but that's it."
-
Dalik's eyebrows lift. "Tapeworm?" she asks, sounding offended. The newcomer's interjection keeps her from responding, and she glances over at him.
"You mean a cigarette?" She shakes her head. "Sorry, too young to smoke." The response sounds amused. "Do you have magical powers too? This guy can apparently make people believe anything." She jerks a thumb at Jeffrey and grins. "I'm not sure I believe him."
-
"I don't believe me either right now-- it's great!" said Jeffrey, relaxing into his chair. He frowns and rubs the back of his head, still feeling a throbbing pain. Bleh, come on! Heal already! I'm just getting relaxed!
He turned his head towards the newcomer and smiled. "I'm sure the bartender's got a smoke. He knew what drink I was talking about, anyway. .....So what's your story? Yeerk tapeworm-thing, metahuman, or neither? Probably neither. This seems like that kind of place."
-
The stranger sits back in his seat, picking up his drink from the bar, as well as the cigarette that the bartender produced. "Marb red," he says, nodding in approval. "I suppose do have a trick or two up my sleeve. Not too keen on using them often, though." He takes a sip of his drink and places the cigarette in his mouth. "I guess there's no harm in showing off." He raises a finger in front of his face, placing it on the end of the rod dangling from his mouth. Suddenly, a spark comes out of his finger, lighting the tobacco. "Always loved doing that. By the way, you mind if I get your names?" He turns to the male sitting at the bar. "And why exactly there's a hole straight through your head?" Clearly, the stranger wasn't interested in staying in the shallow end any longer.
-
The grin fades, replaced with a look of rapt fascination. "How did you do that?" she demands, completely ignoring his request for a name. She scoots forward, her lemonade forgotten. "Sleight of hand?" She reaches forward, as if to grab his hand and inspect it, but pulls back at the last moment.
<<You're going to get me incinerated.>>
<<I'm not,>> Dalik responds huffily. <<Did you see that? I wonder what sort of technology he has?>>
His inward enthusiasm is met with the equivalent of a mental eye roll, followed by silence.
-
The stranger chuckles softly, tapping the cigarette onto the ashtray conveniently across the bar. "Long story," he says. "And frankly, I'm hoping to wake up soon as it is. As of yesterday, I have a lot on my plate." He looks around, taking in the sights of the delapidated building. Despite his mental assertion that this was all a dream, something was nagging at him. It was all just so . . . real!
He shakes off these feelings. Real or not, he's here now. Might as well pass the time best he can. "So, what are you guys doing at this little hole in the wall?"
-
Dalik looks disappointed the stranger's decision not to share and sits back. "Meeting someone," she says evasively. "At least, I hope I'm meeting someone. It's not every day you're given coordinates to a place that doesn't exist." She hesitates, then says, "I'm Dalik. He's Jeffrey." She nods to the other man. "At least, so he says. I've known him for less than five minutes, and I know better than to believe people I just met."
Her smile is girlish. "And who are you, fire fingers?"
-
"Dalik? Never heard that name before." He takes a drag of his cigarette, keeping his other hand around his drink. "You can call me Merc. Well, full name's Mercer, but everyone calls me Merc." Merc continues nursing his drink until a look of confusion slowly creeps across his face. "Wait a second, what exactly do you mean by 'place that doesn't exist'?"
-
"Same question I wanna ask, mainly because right now I should definitely be dead, or at least not be talking," says Jeffrey, pointing to the hole in the back of his head. He feels it again, and it's actually getting smaller as they talk. Still bloody, though. "I..." Jeffrey is somewhat hesitant to explain what actually happened. It still hurt, and these people didn't even seem to be from the same world he was. "...look, long story short, I got stabbed in the back by my own daughter" Jeffrey's expression seemed saddened. "I still don't even know what I did wrong, except that it probably had to do with the person she was dating...but I probably shouldn't go too far into it."
"Say...if you're not a metahuman or a Yurk or whatever, how'd you do that trick with your finger? Is it something else? I'll at least hear you out," said Jeffrey.
-
Merc looks at Jeffrey, bewildered. "Good god, man! You're right, 's a miracle you're still alive." It was obvious at this point that Merc was avoiding the question. "I'd call an ambulance or something, but I get the feeling I wouldn't get reception wherever the hell we are."
He takes another sip of his drink, his glass nearly empty now. "Y'know, you keep saying that one word, 'Yeerk,' or whatever. Mind explaining exactly what it means?"
-
Dalik hesitates, not sure which question to respond to first. She glances at Jeffrey, then turns to Merc, grateful to have someone who isn't oozing blood as a distraction.
"I was just explaining to Jeffrey here," she says, drawing her lemonade closer. "As far as you humans are concerned -- or, metahumans, I suppose? -- we're aliens." Her teeth flash in a smile. "Though as far as we're concerned, you're the aliens. We're a race of parasites. I live in this body and use it as my own."
Sucking down a gulp of lemonade, she licks her lips. "As for this place, it's my first time here." Her shoulders lift. "My brother sent me the coordinates. At first I thought he was nuts, sending me to an empty hole in space, but then I showed up and this place was here." She shakes her head. "I have no idea what sort of phenomenon could cause an entire planetoid to be shielded from sensors."
-
"Aliens, huh?" Merc downs the rest of his drink and stubs his cigarette in the ashtray. "Well, to be honest, Miss Dalik, before now I would have laughed at that idea." He sighs, taking another look around the bar. "But as it is, not very much around here is making any sense."
Merc raps his fingers on the bar, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "Shoot, I might as well explain myself a bit. This fire thing -- I guess people would call it 'pyrokinesis' or something? Anyway, like I said before, I don't like to use it much. Usually, I just use it for cheap parlor tricks, like you saw. That is, unless I get a little . . . well, adventurous, let's say." Merc briefly focuses his attention on the bartender. "Shot of vodka, if you will?"
He turns back to Dalik and Jeffrey. "Anyway, I was out for dinner with my wife last night. Some guy at the table next to us was trashed out of his mind and made some hilarious remark about my voice." Merc makes sure to place heavy sarcasm on the last half of that sentence. "So, I, uh . . . well . . . you know, maybe it's best if I show you." He slides the shot that the bartender produced toward him. With two fingers outstretched, he shoots a spark toward the shot. The alcohol ignites into a bright, brilliant blue flame, casting a glow on Merc.
"I didn't really mean anything by it, y'know? Just wanted to mess with him." Merc downs the flaming shot and slides the glass back to the bartender. When he continues, his voice is much more somber. "Well, I guess he wasn't having any of that. I guess someone saw me light his drink up or something, I don't know. When we got home . . ." He takes a long, deep breath. "This black car was driving down our street. Very suspicious. We're almost inside, when the car's windows roll down and that guy that I lit up is holding a gun. Opens fire. Misses me, but, well . . ." Merc rests his head in his hand and fights to hold back tears. "They got my wife. I called the cops, but they couldn't do ****. So I didn't know what to do. Last thing I remember, I broke into my prescriptions and passed out on the couch. And now, well, I guess something spirited me away to here."
-
In response to Dalik's comment, Jeffrey says, "So. Invasion of the Bodysnatchers, but it's the same body. Creepy! Is Jonie or whoever still in there, Dalik?"
Jeffrey sipped his drink and watched with interest and excitement when Merc shows off his trick. He claps. "Aaah, so you're what the ****wits in my neck of the woods would've called a Pyromancer," says Jeffrey, nodding. He grins. "The Mancers get all the coolest powers man. Pyromancers, Electromancers, Hydromancers--- I'd kill to be able to shoot fire outta my hands! My old buddy Derek could do things with electricity, before he turned on me too. As for your story..." Jeffrey looks Merc over. "...god that almost sounds as awful as mine. And more random. You don't even know who it was?"
-
Merc finally takes his head out of his palm. "No, but you know what I'm gonna do when I find out?" He leans forward, looking Jeffrey in the eye. "I'm gonna burn that bastard to the ground." He sits back in his stool, seeming to have calmed down slightly. "But I don't think that's gonna happen if I'm stuck here." He turns his focus on Dalik. "So, you said you're meeting your brother or something? When's he supposed to get here?"
-
Dalik sits silently for awhile, absorbing their stories, watching the small pyrotechnic show with fascination. "That's rough," she says, though there isn't much empathy in the tone. Instead, she seems cautiously fascinated. "It would certainly be different, being able to shoot energy from my hands instead of relying on a Dracon." She pats the weapon at her side and gives a rueful smile.
Clearing her throat she shakes her head, giving Jeffrey an annoyed look. "Her name is Cameron, and yes, she's here as well. As for my brother, I don't know. I thought he would be here already, but evidently not." She waves at the near-empty bar.
-
"Dude's sure taking a long freaking time, but then again, you wonder how one goes about getting to this ****hole in the first place if it's not on any map," says Jeffrey. "Oh look, I think the head-hole is gone." Jeffrey reaches up to touch his head. "Yep. Still some dried blood but I think Mean Old Mr. Bullet is done for tonight! Ha...makes me wonder where the damn thing went. Where I went."
Jeffrey reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone, putting it on the table. It appears to have a purple background saved as the home screen. He holds it up and presses a button. A holographic screen appears, showing the universal sign for "Nope" and a small cartoon teddy bear dressed in a purple suit and slightly creepy gold mask doing a shrugging motion. "No service, but that's kind of what I figured."
Jeffrey looks toward Merc and Dalik. "Either of you tried to test it yet?"
-
"My comm link works," Dalik says, pulling the flat device out and initiating her own holoscreen. Her lips pull downward into a frown. "I think. Dapsen. Maybe that's why I haven't heard from him."
She looks up at the bartender. "Excuse me, sir?" she asks in her best sweet-little-girl voice. "Is there some reason I can't get a message out?"
The bartender turns to stare at her, but offers no commentary.
-
"Whelp, looks like we're good and stranded!" says Jeffrey, smiling and taking a very slight sip of his drink. Truth be told, he wasn't exactly displeased by this sudden turn of events. It was way better than what had been happening to him back home. "Or at least it looks like it won't be so easy to find your bro. Say...."
Jeffrey raised an eyebrow. "...a bar that summons mostly dead people seems like, look no offense, but a really weird place to be meeting your brother. What exactly do you do for a living, honeybun?"
-
"How the hell did that hole heal so fast?" Merc cuts in, brow furrowed. "I'm no expert, but something tells me that bullet wounds don't heal like that." He fishes around his pockets for a moment, only to come up empty-handed. "Well, looks like my phone never made the journey with me. All I have on-hand is my wallet." Indeed, his wallet is in his back pocket, attached to his jeans with a chain.
"But I think Jeffrey's getting somewhere here. Not to jump to conclusions, but this does seem like some kind of a set-up. Although, I'm not dead. Least, not as far as I know." He focuses on the bartender, who had returned to whatever it was he was doing. "Sir, can you at least tell us where we even are?" He gets much the same response that Dalik got. "Not much of a talker, are you? Right, in that case, another shot of vodka? I have a feeling I'm gonna need it."
-
"Dalik," she says flatly to Jeffrey. "My name is Dalik. You can call me Cameron if you prefer, but I am not honeybun. As for what I do, it's none of your damn business." The profanity sounds odd, coming from such a petite, young girl.
Sighing, she pockets her comm link. "And I'm not dead, either. I didn't appear here, I piloted my ship here. My brother sent me the coordinates, along with a rather confusing rant about how this place was a space-time anomoly -- which could account for his tardiness, I suppose."
The bartender reaches into the pocket of his apron, extracting a small, well-worn notepad. He flips wordlessly to a single page and holds it out so Mercer can see the words.
It reads, Cash or tab?
-
"'Space-time anomaly,' huh?" Merc comments. "Look, I'm not gonna pretend I understand any of this. Whether we're dead or this is some sort of purgatory or whatever, it's not gonna help anything if you're at each others' throats." He speaks calmly, although the words still carry their weight.
Only then does he notice the bartender. "Oh, cash, I suppose," he says, fishing out his wallet. "No offense, but when I manage to get back home, I doubt I'll end up here again. I hope not, at least."
-
"Guess I'm the only dead guy, or at least I'm pretty...pretty sure I was," says Jeffrey, his voice mellowing out as he speaks the last part. "I saw my dead sister, right there. Waiting for me." Jeffrey swallows and for a moment, he can hear the ringing again. He cleans out one ear and tries to shake it off. He honestly hopes that the Void juice never stops working. "And sure, for now. While we're even, de--Dalik."
Jeffrey peers over at the notepad, nods, and casually puts several strange-looking bills on the table, which he apparently took out of a wallet in his pocket. The bartender accepts them wordlessly.
-
The bartender tucks the cash into his pocket, along with the notepad. Then he turns to prepare the drink.
"Even?" Dalik asks, ****ing an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?" Brown eyes scan up and down Jeffrey's body, making a show of looking unimpressed. "You're not dead. Obviously. Off your rocker, maybe, but not dead."
She hooks her feet on the bottom rung of the barstool, slurping the last little bit of lemonade from her glass.
-
"While I haven't got any powers to show you, and you could kill me in a couple seconds with that wild-looking ray gun of yours, we're even," says Jeffrey wryly. "But Merc over there's probably right--- We're better off not being at each other's throats in here. Me and him have no idea how this place even works, and I doubt you know that much more than us."
"As for being off my rocker, oh there's no doubt about that Yeerk," says Jeffrey with a shrug, proving that he does indeed remember how to pronounce it. All of his movements were exaggerated, like he thought he was on a stage in this bar in the middle of nowhere. But it was habit, really--- Most of the time he practically was putting on a show. "Longer I use my goddamn powers for, the crazier I get!"
-
"Wonderful," Dalik says dryly, pushing her empty tumbler back and gesturing for the bartender to bring another. "I'll have to have words with my brother about his choice of venue."
Turning in her barstool, she gazes through the shadows, but the place is as empty as ever. She sighs. "If I ever get the chance to speak to him. I hope he didn't get captured. That would be messy."
-
Merc raises an eyebrow at Dalik. "'Messy?' I think that's a bit of an understatement. I'm not very well-informed about this neck of the woods, but I imagine getting captured is a little more than messy." He accepts his drink from the bartender, downing it without a word. "I'm hoping this fellow shows up, though. Maybe then we can get some answers."
-
"I'd say it depends on who you get captured by for how messy it is, but I agree that there's usually going to be blood on the floor at the end of the show," says Jeffrey. "And again, you still haven't said what it is you do that would mean that kind of a risk is involved! Well, if you won't..."
Jeffrey slides a card onto the table between them. It was purple, with what looked like the same symbol that was on his necklace on it in white. The card read, "Mind Melter. A.K.A. Void Valmont. Professional Supervillain and CEO of Draconis Supervillain Corporation."
"Villains are incorporated, Heroes are in Corps or Organizations," says Jeffrey casually.
-
"Mind Melter?" Dalik asks, reaading aloud. She gives a quiet laugh, caught somewhere between disbelieving and nervous.
Eyes flickering to Merc, she shrugs. "I doubt my brother has the sort of answers you're looking for. Though considering he suggested this place, it's not impossible." Tugging her comm from her pocket once more she murmurs, "I suppose I could try to get a message out to him."
"As for what I do," she continues, accepting a fresh glass of lemonade from the bartender. "I'm afraid I don't have a fancy card to hand out. These days I don't do much of anything, except drift. I try to attack the Empire best I can remotely, so I suppose you could call me..." She hesitates, thinking through the possible titles, "...a hacker? I'm good with computers."
-
"Professional villain, huh?" Merc comments, smirking. "Hate to devalue your work, but where I'm from, that describes pretty much everyone. Las Vegas, my friend." He shoots a few sparks from his fingers in a mock firework show. "Land of the sleaze, home of the depraved."
He downs the shot that the bartender provided. "Mind Melter's a pretty good name, though. Gotta say, you guys have it made. I've spent the past five years or so picking up odd jobs, apartment squatting, and the like. Trying to keep my nose clean anymore."
Merc turns his gaze toward Dalik. "By the way, you mind explaining this 'Empire' thing? Not quite sure I follow you there."
-
Outside the bar, a strange machine pops in from seemingly nowhere. It opens up, and a skeletal creature steps out. It's a bipedal goat skeleton with Human-like hands. It stands about four feet tall, and has small horns. Points of light shone within the eye sockets of a skull that's somehow able to make normal facial expressions. As strange as the creature is, what it wears is rather mundane. A blue t-shirt, with two horizontal orange stripes around it, and khaki shorts. He took a look around, and headed into what looked like a bar.
"I guess this will teach me not to mess with dad's stuff. It's not Grillby's, but it will have to do."
He took a seat at the bar, and tried to get the attention of the bartender.
"I don't suppose you can get me some spaghetti, and a bottle of ketchup?"
He took a look around at the other patrons. He wondered if any of them were friendly.
-
Dalik's gaze is drawn by the fireworks show, temporarily distracting her from an answer. "Huh?" She shakes herself. "Oh. The Empire." She sneers the word. "They're our main political body. A bunch of idiots hopped up on dreams of glory. I'm pretty sure they're dead set on destroying the galaxy. I've been--"
She cuts off at the appearance of something decidedly not human -- or resembling any other creature she was familiar with. Her eyes widen slightly at the short, skeletal creature, then narrow in rapt fascination. "What the hell is that?" she asks of her two companions, not being particularly quiet about it.
-
((Note: Edited because this post didn't make much sense before))
Similarly, Merc stares wide-eyed at the skeletal goat. He barely even notices Dalik's question, much less cares. "Uh . . ." Clearly, his normally charismatic nature had abandoned him the moment the skeleton-creature walked in the bar. "Y'know what? I think I'm gonna stretch my legs for a sec," he mumbles as he hastily gets up and makes his way toward the clearly-marked restroom. Once he's out of sight, a clearly audible, "WHAT THE ****" comes from his general direction.
-
Dalik winces at the sound, removed as it is, then tugs her comm link free of her pocket once more. "I think I'm going to see if I can get ahold of my brother. Perhaps we can arrange to meet elsewhere." Her fingers fly over a holographic screen as she writes in an alien script.
"Safest place in the galaxy my ass," she mutters under her breath, sending the message out and hunching her shoulders over her lemonade, as if to protect it from the less savory creatures of the bar.
-
The skeletal Monster glanced over at the noise. Apparently people here were unfamiliar with Monsters, or something. One of the humans had goen to the bathroom, and the other was hunched over her phone or something. He received his food, and paid the bartender in Irish currency. He took a few bites of spaghetti, and squirted the ketchup directly into his mouth. Mysteriously, the food vanished after passing his jaws, instead of falling through his rib cage or staining his spine.
"This is good. My compliments to the chef."
The bartender said nothing, and the skeleton didn't seem to expect him to reply.
-
"Yep, Mind Melter!" Jeffrey says cheerfully. He then glances in surprise at Merc. "Wait, really? You're from the ancient city of Vegas? Then you're from before the Dome!" His voice suddenly gets animated and chatty, almost like an excited anthropologist. "Tell me, is it really the city of Villains and the gambling and drug center of the world? Do they have any Nusoma, or was that actually invented----"
Jeffrey suddenly stops talking as soon as he sees an obviously impossible sight: A living, walking, talking goat anthro skeleton man wandering nonchalantly into the Bar and asking for a plate of spaghetti. He blinks multiple times and then suddenly reaches into his pocket and stabs himself with something that looks a lot like a diabetes glucose-monitoring needle. The little needle gives him a readout, and he shakes his head. "...okay I'm clean. Then....Ngghjhhaha."
Jeffrey blinks over and over, and finally manages a feeble, "....what in the world are you? Sir. Mr. Scary Goat Skeleton Man Thing."
-
It was obvious that these Humans were uncomfortable with the sight of him. He would have to emulate the skills of his father to diffuse the situation as best he could.
"Hey Human. You look rattled. Tibia honest, I'm not looking to butt heads with anyone. I'm just a kid, after all. the name is Verdana. I'm not sure where this is, but I don't seem to be on Earth anymore." He kept a straight face after his string of puns. It wasn't good form to laugh at your own jokes.
-
Jeffrey squirms uncomfortably. Be cool man. You're not on drugs, but this is nowhere close to the weirdest flipping thing you've seen on drugs. Never forget Talking Sweet Potato Spaghetti Prospero. Nothing can top that. Jeffrey swallowed. "Are you, uhm...trying to make puns? Bad puns? I guess eat up kid, you're nothing but grin and bones. Love the glowing eyeballs though; Mine do that too in yellow when my powers work."
-
Dalik snorts into her lemonade, then gives the skeletal creature a sidelong look. "You are not from Earth," she says firmly. "I don't know what you are, but no creature like you is from Cameron's Earth."
-
"Grin and bones. Nice. I eat more than it looks like. I have to stay away from the alcohol, though. It's bad for your liver. Eye accept your compliment. It's one of the ways skeleton Monsters emote. You use soul powers, huh? Where I come from, yellow is associated with justice."
He turned tot he other Human.
"I am from Earth. My people were imprisoned under Mount Ebott for centuries, until we recently achieved freedom. I'm one of the first Monsters born on the Surface. I'm from Ireland, though I don't have an Irish accent.
-
"Well, Cameron hasn't ever been to Ireland," Dalik concedes with a small incline of her head. She can't seem to stop staring at him. "Perhaps Earth has more surprises than I knew."
She turns to face Verdana, watching curiously. "Where does the food go?" she asks after a moment, eyes on the clearly visible vertebrae.
-
Verdana leaned back a little, and put his hand where a stomach would be. It made a patting sound.
"Converted into magic. Monsters are mostly made of magic, with a bit of physicality to anchor it and let us interact with the world. Just because you can see my skeletal structure, and I can't see yours, doesn't mean we're not both alive. And a growing boy needs food. Now, Monster food is mostly magic. so Human food fills me up for a while. One big plate of Human food is enough to keep me for a day."
He ate more of his spaghetti, and 'drank' more of his ketchup.
-
"Yes, but what the heck does "It's bad for my liver" means when you haven't got any organs?" said Jeffrey. "And kiddo..." Jeffrey grins oddly. "...oh boy have you got that one wrong. Less justice and more The Injustice Gang, but god I don't even want to call back to that. Basically, a lotta powers make your eyes glow funny and a lot of Espers get yellow. Let me try again."
Jeffrey closes his eyes and says, "Testing. Testing. One two three. This is a test of whether I can actually do anything." For a couple of seconds, his voice seems almost intrinsically calming and warm, and there is a slight ringing around him. But Jeffrey holds his head and winces, his open eyes a clear glowing yellow which dies back down to brown. "...rrghh. Nope. I think the bullet broke something. Still in there, but I don't...wanna push it."
-
"Uh, the liver thing was a joke. Please don't ask me to explain it." It always ruins the joke when you have to explain it.
"Sorry about the wound, buddy. especially if it's effecting your magic. I'm afraid I'm no healer, or doctor. Perhaps the closest thing would be a scientist? But mostly I'm just a child, hence the striped shirt. Both my dad and Uncle are pretty big into physics, and other intellectual things."
-
A few moments after leaving, Merc comes back from the restroom, his face and hair slick with water. Clearly, it must have had no effect on his pyrokinetic powers. "Alright," he mutters, sitting down again. "Where were we? Oh yeah, Vegas. Yeah, definitely the capital of drugs, gambling and degeneracy in general. No clue about all that other stuff you mentioned."
"White Russian, please?" He asks the bartender. He turns back to Jeffrey and Dalik, making an effort to avoid staring at the Skeleton. "Anyway, what'd I miss?"
-
"Other than the talking skeleton and my attempt to control my broken powers? Pretty much nothing," says Jeffrey. "As for Vegas, well, if you don't know what Nusoma is than I guess Vegas didn't have it when you were. What year are you from, anyway? We don't date the same way as the Ancients, but I should still recognize your year. I love ancient pre-Dome entertainment; It's a hobby."
-
"Good ol' 2016," Merc says, sarcasm heavy in his voice. "From what you're saying, I got no right to complain. Sounds like things only get worse. What's all this 'dome' business, anyway?"
-
"I wonder if some of us are from alternate universes or timelines. Dad talked about that sometimes. Most people aren't really aware of it, but he had ways of finding these things out."
-
Dalik nods, looking perturbed at the fact that she's agreeing with a talking skeleton. "Alternate timelines. My brother called this place a space-time-anomaly. That's probably why it appeared to be dead space on my sensors. I could've sworn I was flying in the middle of nowhere, then suddenly this place appeared."
As she speaks, her holoscreen lights up. Glancing at it, her lips twist into a scowl. "And he's going to be late. Of course. Well, I may as well get some work done." Swiping away the transmission, she replaces the comm link with a small, black cube. Within thirty seconds she has produced a ring of holoscreens, encircling her head entirely. Just as quickly, she seems to have forgotten her odd companions, her attention entirely on the screens.
-
"Damn. I'm gonna take a guess that you're a little ahead of my time with that stuff," Merc comments. He pauses to take a sip of his ****tail. Oddly, despite already having consumed multiple drinks, the alcohol seems to have no ill consequences on his motor skills.
"Sorry to leave like that, by the way," he says to the skeleton creature. "It's just . . . well, I'll be completely honest, I've never really seen anyone like you before." He extends his hand out. "Name's Merc."
-
Verdana was interested in this new information. Maybe that's why the machine brought him here. a place where you could access all timelines and universes at once? If there was any place to start looking for the one who was lost, this would be the place.
"Dad would have a field day with this. Basing his research in a bar would be the icing on the cake. Alphys would probably get a kick out of it too..."
He shook the Human's hand.
"Good to meet you, pal. Name's Verdana."
He took out a notepad and pen, and started writing in a strange font.
"I have got to make some notes. I think I may have stumbled on the find of the century, and if I'm lucky I may not get grounded for it."
-
"Something tells me you won't be able to do much about it," Dalik murmurs from beneath her sea of holoscreens. "This place is a mess on every single readout." Her fingers touch on icons, which light up in response. "No actual physical location, no magnetic resonance, nothing. Even while I'm sitting here it's as if the place doesn't exist."
She sits back, staring at the screens, a slow grin spreading across her young features. "This place is amazing!"
-
"I guess such a place would need a means of protecting itsself. Yet at the same time, a bar needs patrons. If The Man who Speaks in Hands has been here, that would be a great lead."
-
Dalik is still giggling girlishly. "The man who what?" she asks, interrupting her glee. "That's a strange name." With one hand, she moves the holoscreen up a few inches so she can peer at the skeletal creature. "A bit long, isn't it?"
The door swings open again, loudly. The man who enters is tall, with long, plaited blonde hair and a perpetual smirk set into a lean face. He is dressed oddly, in breeches and a thin, cotton shirt open at the chest. The breeches are tucked into sturdy boots and the belt that sits on his waist is armed with a short sword, a small pouch, and a length of thick rope.
Despite his perpetual smirk, the man looks bewildered. He stands in the doorway, blinking in the gloom.
-
"A bit of a mouthful perhaps, but that's how he's best known. At least as far as the general public remembers anything about him anymore."
He glanced at the newcomer, and gave a short wave as greetings.
-
Merc glances at the human figure in the doorway, then quietly returns to his drink, unimpressed. He was never a fan of such flashy entrances.
"I'm just a little curious," he starts, addressing Dalik, "what year exactly are you from? I'm willing to bet that we're not gonna have holograms or whatever that is for quite a while."
-
"The holograms don't seem that weird to me--- Where I'm from holographic technology has basically replaced non-holographic except when you're trying to keep your business private," says Jeffrey, tapping his phone again. Multiple holographic screens pop around him, each showing a different readout. At least one of those screens is apparently trying to keep track of sales numbers for something, and another seems to be showing data on a huge number of people. Probably at least a couple hundred. He then gestures, and all the screens disappear simultaneously. "See? As for the Dome..."
Jeffrey thinks on how to explain this one. "...okay so a couple hundred years in the future, a big event happens that irradiates the entire planet. Most of humanity dies out. The people who survived built Domes to keep the radiation and the mutated monsters out. That's when I'm from. I guess since you're from so far back, I'd be from 2881 or so. You have to tell me more about your time sometime! I'm obsessed with the early 2000s!"
Jeffrey turns towards the door when he hears it swing open, and then gestures at Dalik. "Is that your brother?"
-
Dalik glances at Mercer. "Earth years? Um...2004, I think. I haven't been on Earth in awhile, but it's thereabouts."
She grimaces at the opening door, then looks behind her. "No, that's definitely not my brother."
The bar's newest arrival continues to look perplexed, but he doesn't hesitate to stride further into the building. Sliding onto a stool he tosses a leather purse onto the counter. It clinks loudly. "Bartender, an ale," he says.
While he waits for his order to be filled he openly watches the others. His gaze particularly lingers on Verdana, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to figure the skeletal thing out. "Where am I?" he finally asks the group at large. "What is this place?"
-
Merc sighs and continues to sip his drink. "That's what we've been trying to figure out." Already, his first impressions weren't great. Maybe it's just my bias, he thinks, but this guy seems like every single boisterous tool I ever met back home.
He returns his attention to Dalik. "Yeah, can't say you've been missing out on much. US might as well be renamed Hell at this point. At least, the part that I'm from. But I guess that's just the slums for 'ya."
"I guess it's a good thing I'll be dead and gone by the time that whole Dome thing happens," he says to Jeffrey. "But for the early 2000s part, well, sorry to disappoint, but I missed out on a lot of it. Got kicked out of my house when I was 18 and lived on the streets for about four or five years. Pretty much no exposure to pop culture outside of that." He sits back and gazes around the bar, only now noticing the bookshelves. "Actually, that's around when I got my powers. But that's another story in and of itself."
-
"We're in a bar, on a spot that isn't anchored to any one place in space time. I'm actually not sure of all that's in the surrunding area, except that there are trees and some other....vehicles? My name's Verdana, by the way. Nice to meet you."
He stuck out his hand for a shake.
-
The man's nose wrinkles at the offered hand, but he quickly hides the expression with a smooth smile. "William Johnson," he says, holding the creature's gaze -- or what seems to pass for it. A slightly perplexed smile remains in place as he pulls back his hand, resisting the urge to wipe it on his breeches. "Space time? I'm...not sure I follow." Settling back comfortably on his stool, he accepts the tankard offered by the bartender, pulling it close.
-
"Well, I and these other Humans come from the same planet. But they've been talking about different time periods, or being away from earth for a while. And they also don't seem to know about Monsters from Mount Ebott, despite that my people have been on the surface for a few decades. So either we're all crazy, or there's some strange space time stuff going on. I don't know about them, but I'm definitely no bonehead. Heh.
-
William blinks at the joke, then coughs a surprised laugh. "I understood about half of that," he admits. "Another planet?" His eyes flicker to the roof of the building, as if a planet may appear over their heads. "Celestial bodies aren't inhabited." Then he laughs again, realizing he is protesting the existence of aliens to a skeleton. "Of course, more fantastic things have occurred in my life than that. It isn't...impossible, I suppose. Aliens" He grins. "Even arguable that I am one myself, I suppose. Oh, I like that. It's all a matter of perspective."
-
"It could happen. Alphys says there is no true ceiling in space, and that there are too many stars to count. Even our galaxy is one of many millions. So the odds are pretty good that aliens exist. The question is, would they be more like Monsters, or more like Humans?
-
"Dalik over there at least definitely seems to think she's a flipping alien," says Jeffrey, pointing a finger at Dalik. "Some kind of parasite called a Yeerk. So I'd wager that in at least one place those guys exist, right? What do you mean about celestial bodies not being inhabited? Not any in our system and not by humans, sure, but when or where are you from?"
"My name's Jeffrey, by the way," Jeffrey says as an afterthought.
-
"Parasite? Yeerk? Never really heard of that."
He started thinking about what if tapeworms were sentient, and it made him grimace.
-
"Technically, as far as I'm concerned you're the aliens," Dalik points out. Her eyes never leave the holoscreens, even as she participates in the conversation. "As Ruffles over there said, it's all a matter of perspective."
William makes a scoffing sound in the back of his throat. "Ruffles?" he echoes indignantly. "Listen, love, manners go a long way, hm?"
To Jeffrey, William says, "Where am I from? An interesting question. Earth, of course. But also beyond Earth. Not among the stars. A...place of duhovi ."
-
Merc glances at William skeptically. In his silence, he had several more drinks, all containing either whiskey or vodka. "I think I'm lost," he says, no hint of a slur in his speech. "Whaddaya mean, 'beyond Earth?' Excuse my ignorance, but I'd say you look completely human."
-
"Damn, Merc, looks like you've really been putting it away," says Jeffrey, looking over the drinks next to the man with amusement. "Now mind you I'm no teetotaler, but I haven't got a tolerance that intense! It'd be interesting to see how much of more...interesting drugs you could take.." says Jeffrey, an odd smile crossing across his face. "If you'd be interested in an experience, anyway."
"As for you..." says Jeffrey, giving the oddly dressed man a dubious look. "Are you a Mystic? Like, a serious Witch or something, a real Samantha Stephens from Bewitched? Because anyone who believes in alternate worlds of that kind is a load of crock from where I'm from."
-
Merc gives Jeffrey a confused look. "Tolerance?" He then starts laughing quietly, bending his neck down to hide his smile. However, he quickly regains his composure. "That's right, I didn't tell you guys. It's pretty much impossible for me to get drunk. Not unless I'm trying. I need some sort of fuel for my powers to work. Since drinking lighter fluid or gasoline doesn't sound very appealing, ethanol is the way to go."
He shoots Jeffrey a coy look. "Other drugs, though . . . well, let's just say that I've tried pretty much everything under the sun. Hard to find a dealer that isn't peddling research chemicals where I'm from, but when you do, that guy very quickly becomes your best friend."
-
Verdana was still scribbling notes about what he saw and heard. Being a kid, he really didn't have any experience with drinks or drugs.
-
"Look," Merc says, noticing Verdana writing down notes. "I'm not trying to glorify this stuff, kid. I'm pretty much clean now, except for an on-and-off pill habit." He sits back and looks at the ceiling. "After I got kicked out of my parents' place, I was messed up. Hooked on speed, Molly, dope . . . god knows what else."
"Only reason I agreed to that crazy human experiment . . . thing," he continues, lost in his memories. It's almost as if he doesn't even know the other patrons are there anymore. "Desperately needed money for heroin or whatever. They put this weird device in my throat . . ." Merc pulls the neck of his t-shirt down a couple of inches, revealing a nasty scar. Clearly not the work of a medical professional. "And did some other stuff, I assume. Not sure what else; I passed out halfway through the whole thing. Point is, I walked away with a couple grand and the ability to shoot flames from my body. Couldn't even talk for months."
-
"Wow. I'm not one to judge. I'm just making observations and writing down for future reference. I know some Monsters that did some crazy experiments too. Science can be a bit scary sometimes."
-
William frowns at Merc's question, his smirk fading for the first time since he arrived. "I'm not sure, actually," he admits. "I look human, but I know I am not."
"Welcome to the club," Dalik interjects with a soft snicker.
Clearing his throat, William shoots Dalik a narrow look and continues. "I'm what is known as Grigori. I came to this body after its first natural death. Unfortunately, I don't have many memories of my time in the place of the duhovi."
-
The windows of the bar glint with red as another ship lands outside.
A small ship, with battle scars and loose skin hanging in tatters.
The ship's lights dim, and shortly a woman steps inside, giving the interior of the bar only a cursory glance as she strides towards the bar.
It's clear she's been crying, eyes red and normally white cheeks flushed. She climbs onto one of the bar stools a couple of seats down from the others, near the man in the frills, and hunches her shoulders. The singed and faded black trench coat she wears helps complete her image of being entirely closed off and absolutely not in the mood to make small talk.
The blue jeans look relatively normal, but her black combat boots give the impression of a soldier, or a goth girl, or both.
The woman taps the bar counter and says something softly to the bartender, who wordlessly turns to pour her a drink of dark red liquid from a glass wine bottle that looks like it is wrapped in black wax.
After her first drink she waves the bottle over and pours another, but she doesn't drink it right away.
Instead she hides her head in her hands, her brown curly hair hanging in a straggly mess over her arms, and her shoulders shake with silent sobs.
-
It was obvious to Verdana that this Human was troubled. Perhaps suffering from a recent attack of some sort. He didn't really know what to say, though. He glanced at the doorway, half expecting something to burst in, looking to finish what it started. He offered to pay for the woman's drink at the very least, and the bartender took his money.
-
"Oh man, then....I mean I think I actually have..." Jeffrey rummages around in his weirdly expansive vest pocket and fishes out a glittering pink liquid in a vial with a stopper. It looks a bit as if somebody put either nail polish or kids' decorative glitter in a beaker. He holds it up in front of Merc. "...This." Jeffrey grins. "Nusoma. The old pink shimmer. Best trip there ever was, like a ****ing Lotus Eater plant man, if you know what you're doing and don't take too much. So let me know if you ever give up being clean. As for the scar..."
Jeffrey ****s his head. "...so you're no natural, then. You're a freaking Hyper, little bit--- A Mundane guy who got turned into a Super! Funny, guess I'm the reverse no---"
Jeffrey blinks as he hears the woman come in and sit at the Bar. He looks as if he wants to offer his condolences, but doesn't bother. Best not to disturb people you don't even know, right? Especially when you can't really make them feel any better, not without your powers.
-
Merc turns his head toward the newcomer. He watches her for a moment. Should he say something? No, best not to make things worse.
"I'm not gonna lie, I'm tempted," he says to Jeffrey. "Really, Dani - my wife - was the only real reason I stayed clean. And I might just need something to take my mind off her." He mulls over it for a moment, all while keeping the woman in his peripheral vision. He tried not to show it on his face, but something about her presence bothered him.
Finally, he leans over to the bartender. "Hey, give her something," he whispers, sliding a few bills across the counter. "Doesn't matter what, just . . . something to cheer her up, I guess."
"What exactly would happen if I took to much?" he asks Jeffrey, pushing the woman to the back of his mind. "Sounds interesting, but I'm not too interested in OD'ing."
-
"The drug causes euphoria and hallucinations, so basically...the hallucinations would get..." Jeffrey spins a finger around his ear. "...really weird, and less controllable. I knew an addict, back in the place where I was from. It's not pretty. Buutt..." Jeffrey smiles. "...a little bit, and you're in for a really good time."
"As for you, grigori or whatever..." Jeffrey shrugs a bit dismissively. "...you might've been, this is one weird place, but I'd wager you aren't anymore. I think..." Jeffrey pauses. "...I think the bartender likes to keep things...clean, in here. Don't know why I get that impression, but I do."
-
Merc chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Psychs really aren't my thing anymore, sad to say. Not ever since a really crazy shroom trip I had." He rests his arm on the bar, smiling. "Thought my friend Cole was a demon from Hell - granted, he might have been - and then I locked myself in the bathroom for like 3 hours."
-
Jeffrey giggles a bit. "Oh, man, that sounds like a lot of fun actually! A metaphysical experience of the most mundane kind! He's simply one infernal jerk, a hell of a firebrand, a heart of hot Coles!" Jeffrey giggles some more and eventually says, "...but suffice to say you don't want to trade scratch for a mushroom drug. I getcha."
"Still, so far you seem like the only guy here who knows a good time-- Dalik over there's an old stick in the mud, apparently, there's some miserable chick, and Skeleton Goat Kid Verdana seems more like a researcher."
Jeffrey glances at Verdana. "So what did your skinless parents do anyway?"
-
"Nice barrage of puns, Jeffrey. You may be unsurprised to know that my father is somewhat of a scientist. He was pretty big in the business, until he stopped for...unpleasant reasons. My mother used to be a queen in the Underground, until she divorced. Now she's just kind of a professional mom. she's actually a bipedal goat Monster. skin and fur and all. They tell me Monster babies are mostly made through magic, so one type of Monster can have children with any other. Dad and uncle are more Human shaped skeletons."
"I can't say my Uncle ever really had much of a job, except as a sentry for part of the Underground. He wanted to get into the royal guard, but the guard disbanded before he could join. I think they gave him an honorary title at one point, but he was a guard captain with no subordinates."
-
William wrinkles his nose and responds to Jeffrey by taking a large gulp of ale. "You're not entirely wrong," he admits. "Thiugh I would like to know exactly how I came to be here. Last I recall, my ship was going down. We weren't near any ports, so I have no bloody idea how I landed here . I can't be dead, so...what, then?"
Dalik swipes her array of holoscreens aside with one motion. They shatter into a glimmering array of green light, then flicker out like so many fireflies. "I am not a stick in the mud," she says seriously. "I'm working." She glances at the new woman curiously, but can't get a good view of her face. Dismissing her, she returns her attention to Jeffrey and Merc. "It seems as though my brother has stood me up. Wonderful." She glances at Jeffrey's glass. "What are you drinking?"
-
The woman only looks up to down another shot of the red liquor.
The bartender slides a nondescript tan packet in the woman's direction, and points in Merc's direction.
Her attention, however, is not on the packet.
She stares, wide-eyed, at the person who had been addressed as Dalik.
With the back of her trembling hand, she wipes tears from her cheeks and sniffles loudly.
"Dalik Two-Eight-Five-Five?" she ventures wetly, not recognizing Cameron."It is you, isn't it?" She huffs an incredulous laugh. "You ****ing dapsen coward. Where is Elran?"
-
"At least she's talking now?".....
Verdana didn't think insulting someone was the best way to go, but it might be better than just sobbing to herself.
-
Dalik's attention is pulled from Jeffrey at the woman's voice. One hand goes immediately to the weapon at her side, though she doesn't draw it. "You know who I am?" she asks, keeping her young host's voice innocent. "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met. Or this Elran fellow."
William, caught between the two women, takes a hasty step back, keeping his ale in one hand. "Don't let me interrupt," he murmurs, smirk returning as he looks between them. "It's been awhile since I saw two dames go at it."
-
Verdana was smart enough to know a dicey sitation when he saw one, and decided a position behind a table would be better than a bar stool. His eyes started to glow a bit brighter in surprise.
-
"Don't play stupid with me, Dalik," the woman says scathingly, though her heart isn't entirely behind the ire. "You took Elran from base. So you could, what, buy him a drink? I ought to drag you back and let you answer for all the **** you've pulled."
She turns to pour another glass of liquor. "**** it. Just don't bother me, alright? I'll ****ing deal with you later." She seallows the drink, then nearly chokes as she notices the packet in front of her.
She coughs and presses the back of her hand to her mouth, wheezing, "Holy ****ing Jesus!" With a scrape of her chair she stands and backs away from the counter.
-
"Oh, great, Crying Woman is another ****ing tapeworm Yeerk thing--- Because That's exactly what we need, more confusion," says Jeffrey, groaning. "Creepy Bartender, I'm going to need something stiff. I'll leave it to you; You seem to know what you're doing." The Bartender nods and moves to provide Jeffrey with his drink.
"As for my drink, it's a Crown and a Coke on the rocks right now--- Stiff, but not too stiff," says Jeffrey with a noncommittal shrug. "Anyway...I can't figure you guys out at all. You said something about an Empire you hate? If you're not Imperials, then what are you? Democratically inclined Yeerks?"
-
Dalik shakes her head, dismissing Jeffrey with a wave of her hand. "Base?" she echoes, staring at her, eyebrows furrowing at the woman's outburst. She looks confused for a solid ten seconds, then bursts out laughing. "Oh, by the Kandrona. You're one of them, aren't you? A rebel?" She barks another laugh, her grip relaxing on the weapon. "Sorry to disappoint you, but you've got the wrong Dalik. Though if you could point my brother my way, I'd greatly appreciate it. He's been standing me up for weeks now."
William frowns, not understanding most of the conversation. "This is a strange place," he murmurs. Then he steps over to Jeffrey and says, softly, "Why don't I buy you your next round, hm? It seems as if we both need something stronger if we are going to properly enjoy the entertainment."
-
Verdana took a seat behind his table. Things seem to have gotten a little more tense, and he felt safer with something between him and others. Of course he had natural means to defend himself, but he wasn't the best at it.
-
The woman's eyes narrow at Dalik. "Did you put that crap in front of me?" she demands. "You can't be Dalik the Prime. Dalik the Prime is dead." She glares back at the packet, shuddering. "Bartender, what the ****?"
-
Dalik's gaze follows the woman, and her nose wrinkles. "No, I did not," she says primly, pushing herself to her feet. She gives Jeffrey and Mercer a small smile. "It appears I have worn out my welcome here. Thank you for the...interesting.. .conversations."
She steps away from the bar, then pauses, looking back at the dark-haired woman. "If you see my brother, send my regards. And tell him he's a damned imbecile."
William frowns, looking disappointed at the evident dissipation of a potential fight. "Aw, come on," he says, loud enough for both to hear. "Surely you can settle this here. In front of me." His blue-eyed gaze sweeps over Myitt, then to Dalik. "A fight is always worth watching, hm?"
-
The woman's lip curls and she nods at William.
"I'm not getting into useless fights for the benefit of a pirate," she says blandly, sniffling again. "****." She turns back to the bar and pours a third shot, letting her fingers rest on the packet. Staring down at the pocket of paper like it were a piece of forbidden fruit.
The woman starts to spin the packet slowly, idly, and she sips rather than demolishes the drink. Then she wipes her nose on her sleeve, muttering something to herself, under her breath.
With a noncommittal grunt she gulps down the shot, and tears the packet open.
-
"Alright, can somebody please tell me what is going on here?" Merc asks, standing up from his seat. He begins pacing around the bar, focusing his gaze on the strange woman. "Obviously, there's some animosity between you and Dalik. That's your business, and frankly, I don't care. But then you treat that packet like it's some sort of a curse or something. And now you just tear it open?" He stops behind her and leans in close. When he speaks, his breath smells like a mix between alcohol and burnt tobacco. "Look, it's been a long day. So please, just tell me what that is before I have to ****ing incinerate it."
-
"None of your damn business," the woman growls absently, tipping the dry and powdery contents of the packet into her mouth. She coughs again and then pours another drink, washing the sugary stuff down with alcohol.
"Jesus hell," she breathes, slamming the glass onto the bar counter. Tears start to sting her eyes again. "Jesus, Daniel, I'm so ****ing sorry." She goes back to holding her head in her hands again, a weak tremble passing through her, visible in her jacketed shoulders.
-
Dalik halts at the sound of the packet tearing. She turns back, eyes wide. "Oh, by the Kandrona," she breathes, looking up at the rafters and then over to Jeffrey. "That" she says, indicating the torn packet, "is oatmeal. Which just so happens to be a narcotic for my species. She's just gone and hopped herself up on that ****." Her nose wrinkles at the sweet smell, noticeable even from several feet away, and her next words are to the woman herself. "Are you a complete idiot? You know what that stuff does, right?"
William looks unperturbed, and he finishes his ale. Turning to the bar, he taps it twice, calling the bartender over for a refill.
-
"I know what it does," says the woman emptily, voice thick with tears.
She glances back at Jeffrey, eyes shining. "Get the hell off my back, ****. You don't know what you're doing."
-
"Goddamn..." Merc sighs and walks back to his seat at the bar. "That's what I get for thinking I can help," he mumbles to himself before ordering yet another shot of whiskey. His wallet is nearly drained at this point, but it doesn't matter much, considering how far away from home he is. "For god's sake, if I don't get back to Earth soon I'm gonna lose my mind..."
-
"What, did you order this for me?" The woman chokes a dark laugh. "And you're the one who's gonna lose his mind? What kind of ****ed up **** orders drugs when...when someone else is...is..." She trails off, dizzily adding, "I'm so s-sorry." Thick sobs wrack through her again and she buries her head in her black sleeves, face down on the counter.
-
"DRUGS!?" Merc screams. He turns to the bartender, eyes wide with rage. "I ask for something to stop her crying, and you give her ****ing drugs!?" He slams down his shot glass, shattering it in the process. "What is WRONG with this place!?" Clearly, he was done keeping his cool facade.
-
The bartender simply stares at Merc, drying a glass, expression blank.
The woman, for her part, looks up sharply at the sound of the shattering glass.
She blinks at Merc and says, meekly, "Can you get me some tissues, for Christ's sake?" Another shudder runs through her and she gasps, "Oh, ****, oh...****, what the ****..." Even as she stares at Merc, her eyes glaze over distantly, not really seeing him.
-
Verdana just puts his head down on the table. this situation was getting more uncomfortable by the second, and he didn't really know if he could fix it. Or even get involved. This sounded like a job for Mom, and she was probably in another dimension right now. His eye lights dimmed as he tried to tune things out a bit. Should he speak? Should he keep quiet? What was a kid to do?
-
"Jesus . . ." Merc's voice is thin and shaky, and he looks like he's about to be sick. A strong contrast from just seconds before. "I'm millions of miles away from home, probably not even in the right time." It's as if the reality of the situation only sinks in. His head drops into his open hands, and the shaggy black hair that covers his head pathetically droops to either side of his face. "It's my fault Dani's dead, and now I've got this lady ****ed up. . . ." Merc's hands fall away, leaving his forehead to hit the bar. "I've got half a mind to just go outside and blow myself up."
-
"Please don't." Verdana said. Worse and worse by the second....
-
Jeffrey raises an eyebrow, and looks over at Merc in a mildly concerned way. "Hey hold on man, there's no need to go on doing that. You have got a lot to live for. You have to find those ****s that killed your family, right? It was an honest mistake, man! We don't even know how that crazy Bartender works!" Jeffrey's voice seems suddenly warm and benign.
There was a slight echo, or a ringing, behind the man. He holds his head, wincing. "Nope, nope...I don't want it back, okay? Okay you crazy bartender? Not after everything it put me through!" The Bartender didn't respond.
Jeffrey looks towards Myitt and says, "...I know you're wasted, okay, but you're bringing down the room."
-
Slowly, Merc picks his head up off the bar. "Yeah . . . yeah, you're right." He wipes off his face with his bare arm. "Sorry, I overreacted. It's just . . . this place is driving me insane." He stares down for a moment, trying his best to ignore the woman. "Bartender? Another smoke if you will? And please, just don't **** with me here."
-
Clarity comes over the woman and she blinks back into focus, though she grips her shivering arms.
"My husband is dead," she says hollowly. "**** the room, man. Ff--" The shuddering passes and she looks back at the bottle of red liquor, frowning. "Getting ****ed up isn't going to bring him back."
Again, with clarity, she stares at Jeffrey. Then she looks around at Dalik, Merc, and the skeletal goat creature, then at William, as if seeing them for the first time.
"I shouldn't have done that," she admits. "It's going to hurt almost as bad as the pain of losing him." She laughs softly, grinning at some internal dialogue.
Then she focuses again on the little band. "You I think I know," she tells Dalik the Prime. "The rest of you...I'm not so sure." Wavering, she adds, "Myitt. My name, that's my name. Don't wear it out."
-
"I'm Verdana." His eye lights came back into focus. "I have heard drugs and booze don't always help a situation. I'm sorry about your husband. My family has dealt with loss too. If you have other family, you should probably visit them. It's always good to have a support group you can trust."
-
Dalik stares at her, watching in mute fascination as the oatmeal takes effect, wincing as the glass shatters.
"Myitt," she echoes. "I know that name. Myitt One-Nine-Five. You are one of the rebels." A brief hesitation, and then she is back at the bar, watching Myitt intensely. "Where is my brother? Dalik the Lesser. I know he was with your people."
William flinches as the glass shatters, then laughs in delight. "What a marvelous place!" he says cheerfully. As the bartender approaches, he places a quiet order, then goes back to grinning as he watches the events unfold.
-
"It's fine, man," says Jeffrey, still rubbing his head. "I mean...Sure we don't know where we are, and we don't know how to get back, but at least all our old wounds can't come to bite us in the ass here! No regrets! No problems! And hopefully, if the Bartender doesn't **** with me, no Esper Backfire Syndrome."
Jeffrey glances at Myitt with a sigh. "And you're....the latest Yeerk, apparently. Sorry about your hubby--- That does tend to get people upset."
"Also, your brother's looking less irrelevant by the second, Dalik."
-
"Oh my god," Merc breathes out, staring at Myitt. "Look, I'm sorry. Trust me, I'm going through the exact same thing. If you want to talk and you don't want me dead at this point, well, I'm going nowhere soon."
He picks up the cigarette that the bartender provided, checking it for any signs of tampering. Not detecting anything, he lights it with his finger as he did before and takes a drag. "Alright. I'm with Jeffrey here. Dalik, your brother is beginning to seem pretty suspicious." Any traces of his meltdown are gone now, almost as if it never happened. "Lemme get this straight. He tells you to come here and he's nowhere to be seen. And now you're saying that he and Myitt here are on the same team? I'm not trying to say he's setting you up, but something's going on."
"And as for you . . ." Merc gestures at William with his cigarette. "Maybe it's best if . . . you know what, forget it. It's not worth having an argument over."
-
Myitt scoffs. "I am not Dalik's friend. And I don't know where he is." She shrugs. "Jeffrey. It's...fine."
To Merc she starts, "I'm so s-sorry that you...that..." Another wracking spasm hits her and she grips her head tightly, whimpering. "Ngh."
-
"Hey, dearie, you're looking in pretty bad shape, mmkay?" says Jeffrey to Myitt rather casually. The Bartender had brought him his drink. He takes a long, deep sip of it. "If there's a place you can glance some shut-eye, you should, but I can fully understand why you wouldn't wanna do it. Be careful and keep your weapons close."
"And Dalik...If your brother's dangerous....We should know about it, okay? I don't want to die again in the space bar in Hell or whatever."
The Bartender points to a sign that read: "Galaxy's Edge Space Bar--- Enjoy the Time You Have!"
Jeffrey raises an eyebrow. "I swear that wasn't there two seconds ago, and that might be the worst advertisement I've ever seen."
-
Dalik swallows, fingers gripping the edge of the bar. "I didn't exactly talk to my brother," she admits. "I've been trying to connect with him for weeks. Months. He's been evading me, probably because he thinks I'm dead and the messages are coming from someone impersonating me." She curses in a strange language, sighing.
"If it's a setup, it's a damned foolish one. He can't hurt me." She glances at Jeffrey. "You, he may not mind hurting. Being human and all. Human-ish."
William accepts a fresh tankard from the bartender, who in turn sets a fresh glass in front of each of the patrons. "My treat," he tells the room at large, lifting the tankard in a 'cheers' gesture.
Looking to Merc, he grins. "What would be best, hm?"
-
"I don't need sleep," Myitt tells the floor, head still in her hands. "I just miss him. I couldn't save him. I...I hurt him so bad, and then someone else hurt him physically and...and I didn't...we didn't even get to say goodbye. Or that we're sorry."
She looks up at Jeffrey, tears dried, her chest aching. "Sleep is the last thing I need. I need revenge." A tremor makes her jaw twitch.
-
Jeffrey shudders suddenly. There was a slight, odd, echoing ringing sound that was occurring around him...almost like pained screaming, if you were listening closely enough. But it fades quickly. "I think...I think I know how that feels. Someone close to me died badly too--- A long time ago. And I wanted to make it so it could never happen again. Never."
"But, I failed, so here we are!" says Jeffrey, trying to laugh off his momentary melancholy. "But uhh, if you want revenge...Who do you need revenge on?"
-
"Look, I'm not gonna waste my breath," Merc says, glaring at William. "You do your thing, I'll do mine. Long as we're not butting heads, it's cool." He sighs, sliding the drink over to himself. "Thanks for the beer."
He listens quietly to Myitt, nodding slowly as she reaches the end. "Revenge, huh? Myitt, you're speaking my language. Soon as I make that way back home, I'm gonna find the **** that gunned down my wife, he's dead, and I'm gonna immolate anyone who gets in my way." For a brief second, an onlooker could swear to have seen a puff of smoke emanating from Merc's body. But if it was there in the first place, it was gone in an instant. "Thing is, I'm bursting at the seams with energy and fuel. Not to offend, but something tells me you're not exactly in top form at the moment."
-
A bright blue light pierces the sky outside as a lone tail-fighter drops from Z-Space. It had been a long while, though not as long for most.
The sleek silver craft slices its way down through the cool air, flying over the airship 'lot' before settling over a space and lighting down smoothly. The silver hull seems to split open as a ramp lets down onto the soft earth. The creature that trots down the ramp has been here many times before...the beginning and end of all his stories it seemed. He feels invigorated here, where the boundaries of dimensions are weaker. His abilities are stronger here. They always had been. Immediately his senses expand as he feels life a short distance away. So, there were people here then. Other living beings. Whether any are those he knows or not he cannot say. His powers are stronger here, but the BT, of course, is the strongest force in his own domain.
One thing is certain though...if anyone he knows is here, they won't remember. They won't remember any of it. He'd changed it and almost broken space-time in the doing. He had borrowed power from a good friend and changed one single event in the timeline. Only those he'd brought with him, namely Claxter and Aetheas, remembered the original timeline of events. Only they had been shielded from the shifting of reality. He'd stopped the information on the rebels' base from ever being leaked to the Electorate...stoppe d its destruction...saved hundreds if not thousands of lives. He'd preserved the Andalite defensive line, and no one would know. Perhaps it was better off that way. He didn't want accolades, just peace and harmony. He'd resolved later to never alter the past again...he'd gotten lucky this time, and had still nearly destroyed all the lives he'd been trying to save.
Of course that all meant he was still a 'loyal' Prince of the grand Andalite navy. And Enorryma and all the others were back where they'd been before the disastrous attack that, now, had never occurred. He shakes his head, feeling so much older than the somewhat young age his body betrays. His ARC holo-display lights up, giving him real time information on the ramshackle building ahead. The same as always. He checks his handheld Shredders and dual katana-like swords at his waist before moving toward the bar.
The andalite pushes open the saloon-type swinging doors and trots in, his shimmering royal-blue fur rippling with his body movements, silver-black hooves thunking on the old wood floor. He notes five humans, two of them controllers, and one very odd-looking skeleton-like creature. He glances at the skeleton-creature, filing it away for later processing. Nothing could surprise in this place, after all. But a closer perusal of one of the controllers shows him Tara's curly, unkempt locks. Myitt...the andalite has mixed feelings seeing her. They'd always shared a strong bond, ever since they'd met at this place. Working closely together, well, as closely as he could get away with without angering the Electorate TOO badly. They'd grown closer after the attack and rescue...but those things had no longer happened. This was Myitt now, and she almost surely knew nothing about the events that had no-longer transpired. Indeed, in the months following the andalite's reversal of that terrible attack, this Myitt had grown distant, contacting him less and less often. Out of respect, he did not request more contact, though he'd felt them growing further apart. Now he knows so little of her life that he feels they're little more than acquaintances. Old acquaintances to be sure, with many fond memories, but merely acquaintances none-the-less.
She looks distraught, though he certainly has no idea why. The hard lines of his face soften a bit, but he makes no extra effort to strike up a conversation. He favors the other controller with a glance, letting her know with just a look that he knows what she is, before stepping up to the bar. He nods at the BT. <The usual.> The BT's eyes glint darkly as he mixes a drink and pours it into a small bowl, sliding it under the counter. The larger-than-average male andalite dips his hoof in, sipping the fermented grass liquor. The BT merely smiles malevolently and the andalite nods back.
<<Yes.>> He whips his muscular, sinuous, scythe-tipped tail back and forth idly. <<Ossanlin's back.>>
-
Verdana took a little more interest in the new creature that showed up than the Humans. What sort of Monster was this? Or could it be called one? It was a mostly physical being, like a Human, but he could sense that it was considerably for than that. Like a Monster. He took out his notebook, and started drawing, and writing. It lightened his mood after this talk of loss and revenge.
-
Meanwhile, Merc stares wide-eyed at the new creatures, mouthing a silent, "what the hell" to nobody in particular. It takes a significant amount of self-control to avoid falling out of his chair, and he only made an effort to stay in his seat to avoid attracting attention. No, I did not take drugs. And Jeffrey didn't put that stuff in my drink. In which case... I'm actually seeing this.
-
Jeffrey's lighthearted chatter suddenly stops as soon as he sees the impossible creature that enters through the front door. He twitches. "Wait, what the...blue centaur?!" Jeffrey smacks his forehead and stands up suddenly, dusting off his vest. "Really? Really?!" Jeffrey glares at the Bartender. "I've just started pretending that none of this is even happening. Because that..."
Jeffrey walks over towards where the blue deer is sitting, "is the most ridiculo...."
Jeffrey's words catch in his throat as he's suddenly hit with a sensation he's only experienced one other time--- The time he met the Grey Lady as he was dying. The time when all the threads of past, present, and future come together. The paladin, right? An image of his ex-best-friend suddenly seems to appear in front of his mind's eye, eyes of vivid blue and brown skin, silver armor gleaming in the Upperdome's perpetual daylight. The person that once made his heart and his voice sing with pleasure and camaderie, and the one who had broken his heart in the end. And in some other place and time, it had been somebody completely different, hadn't it?
"Derek," Jeffrey says breathlessly to the creature without thinking, standing in front of the centaur. But just like that, the veil of confusion fades away, and he remembers that he has no idea what the hell this creature is or what it's doing here. ....This thing isn't Derek. I'm just distracted by the past. Looks like we all are. Jeffrey shakes his head and his usual sardonic, jovial expression snaps back into place.
"Sorry. Got carried away for a minute there. I died like a couple hours ago, and dying's really weird as it turns out...so it kinda figures. Welcome to the hellhole! What the **** are you, first off? Are you a Yeerk too?"
-
All of Dalik's words die when the Andalite strides in. Her inhale catches in her throat and she stares, the oatmeal and Myitt forgotten. Her eyes narrow, and for a fifteen-year-old girl she suddenly looks quite a bit older. Her hand slides to her Dracon, and she straightens her spine, turning her back to Myitt to face this new threat fully. "Andalite," she breathes, though amidst the tension in her voice is awe.
William's own reaction to the strange centaur's appearance is strangely nonchalant. He gives it a flat, disbelieving look, then brings the tankard to his lips, draining it entirely and shaking his head in blatant disbelief. He keeps one ear on Jeffrey and Merc, interested in both of their conversations equally. Revenge was one of his favorite topics, after all.
-
Myitt smiles thinly at Merc. "No," she intones. "I'm not alright, right now." With a shrug she murmurs, "Sorry 'bout your wife. This **** sucks."
She blinks, eyeing Jeffrey. "I need to kill a Visser. A general of the Yeerk Empire." Myitt laughs, pouring herself yet another drink, her hands shaking so badly now that quite a bit of the red stuff sloshes onto the counter. "Lucky me." She doesn't drink the shot, however.
Her attention is drawn to Ossanlin right away, and she makes her way to his side.
"Hi," she says in a small voice, quivering. "Let me pay for that." Like no time had passed, though she can feel the weight of their distance pressing down upon her. "It's good to see you again, my old friend I--"
She presses both hands onto the bar counter next to Ossanlin, exhaling a gasp through gritted teeth. "Don't..." Even swallowing is hard. "Don't let me order any more. Please. I need your help, man."
-
Verdana noticed the tension when dalik mentioned the word Andalite. Was that what the blue thing was, or just some strange insult? Why the sudden hostile reaction? If there was something they did not need right now, was more negativity.
-
Ossanlin spares one stalk-eye for the unknown controller, the other settling on the non-controller approaching him. <I'm sorry, my name is not Derek. Ossanlin-Rethin-Sephirel. War Prince. And no, I am not a controller, thankfully.> He favors Myitt with a glance from his main eyes recalling the time she'd saved him from infestation.
He moves his main eyes to the other controller. <I'd keep my hands away from my Dracon were I you...especially if you're an Imperial. I have little compunction in ending Imperials...the slightest excuse will do.> Ossanlin grimaces a bit before turning his main eyes back to Myitt.
Her voice sounds weak, almost pitiful as she offers to pay for his drink. <It's been awhile, Myitt.> He gestures, allowing her to pay if she really wants to. <Looks like you've had a rough time.> He sips at his liquor again and chuckles a bit ruefully. <Ironic, isn't it? You don't contact me for months...years even, and the first time we speak again, it's because you want my help.> He shakes his head, keeping his tone calm and cool...years of practice as the Captain of a Dome Ship. <Is that what I am to you? A fair-weather acquaintance to be used whenever it's convenient for you? When you need to do something but can't accomplish it on your own?> He shakes his head again, feeling a bit bad for uttering the sharp, bitter words. She had saved his life after all from something worse than death. But then he'd saved her too...many times. He draws liquor deeply from his bowl, feeling the pleasant warming sensation searing up his leg and into his body.
<Why?> He doesn't elaborate any further, but the meaning of the question is fairly self-evident. Why had she stopped contacting him? Why had she just cast him off? Why had things changed so much between them? ... Why weren't they the same friends they'd once been long ago?
-
"Heh, I don't know why..." says Jeffrey, rubbing the back of his head. "Considering you're a blue flipping centaur, but for a second there I felt like I'd seen you before. It's your stance--- You have four legs, but it's rigid, like a Forward Scout member. Reminded me of someone who used to be...my friend, way back when my company, Draconis, was first founded. A guy named Derek." Jeffrey shrugs. "I think it's something in the air of this place, that makes it feel like...like...I don't know what it feels like. Anyway, guess you fall into the same universe category as the tapeworms, sorta."
Jeffrey watches the conversation between Myitt and Ossanlin awkwardly. It was clear that something huge had gone on between these two, but he had no idea what. He walks nervously towards Verdana and says,
"Hey, kid, if you're watching, make sure nothing crazy happens, okay? The tension's so thick you could cut it, and you seem like you've still got the old black magic. You, and..." He nods at Merc. "...him, too."
-
"It's obvious that not all these patrons are entirely comfortable around each other. I do have magic, and can get involved if anyone attacks anyone else, but I'm not one to assert myself lightly. I would rather no one injure anyone around me."
-
Dalik jerks in surprise at the Andalite's thought-speak."I'm no Imperial," she says lowly. She doesn't move her hand from the weapon, nor does she draw it. She simply watches through narrowed eyes, taking in the strange way he addresses Myitt, and Myitt him. Almost as if they knew one another.
-
"Because I'm going to buy another hit of drugs, and my best friend - the person I loved - is dead," says Myitt flatly, the rest of Ossanlin's admonishments washing over her in the haze. She grips onto the counter so hard her knuckles are white. "Please, Ossanlin. Forgive me, at least? I can't lose anyone else, not when...when I've just found you again. Just...let me explain why I've been so...so..." She shivers. "Absent."
-
Ossanlin looks up at Jeffrey with his main eyes. <My stance is a product of military training and years of command. As for the...feel...of this place, well it's a transdimensional crossroads.> His eyes glow light blue for a moment as he probes the human, sensing something...differe nt about him. But he lets it go and files it away, another subject for thought or conversation.
<Then we don't have any quarrels at present.> Ossanlin glances a stalk eye at the other controller before returning his main eyes to Myitt.
<Alright...you have my attention. I'm listening.>
-
"Heh, figures--- The Forward Scouts are military, too. Derek was just weird," says Jeffrey casually. "...somebody's mentioned that before, that this was a transdimensional crossroads, but I still don't feel like I know what that means. As for you..."
Jeffrey gives Myitt a rather sincere look, for him. "...If this Visser really gutted your loved one, I can think of at least a few people in here right now who'd want him dead just on that principle alone. That's not consolation, but...keep it in mind."
Jeffrey nods and sits back down next to Merc, taking a sip of his drink. "Long night already."
-
Verdana was against violence on principle, so he hoped Jeffrey wasn't including him in those "few people". Though he decided this wasn't the time to argue about that. Myitt was in mourning, and needed positive reinforcement. He was glad she had a freind here now, even if they were a bit estranged.
-
Myitt favors Jeffrey with a bland smile. "Thanks," she murmurs. "It is...a nice thought."
She sucks in a deep breath and sighs, looking Ossanlin up and down. The tremors are still there, as is the burning need for more, so distracting she may as well be in a Taxxon host.
Her fingers twitch as she explains.
"You are right to be angry with me, Ozzy. I vanished without a trace, and that wasn't like me. You know that I'm no fair-weather friend." Myitt pauses, drumming her fingers again on the bar counter, rather pleased at how well her fortitude is holding up - all things considered.
"We've moved bases since you last saw me, and we've acquired more than a few new enemies and allies. Some of them are Andalites, but mostly the same tired old brigade of Imperial generals. Yes, even one of those is a tentative ally." She smiles more genuinely. "There were good times, too, in the last few years. I met a guy, a Yeerk, who like...really gets me. And I'm not exactly easy to get. And his host was..." She hesitates, feeling the sick rush of grief once more, and she swallows the bitterness back with a shrug. "He got me, too."
"There was so much turmoil, but I had so much friendship and support. Corliss and Reven, they're still doing fine. And I felt so buffered by all this distraction, the stress of the move, that I didn't need outside friends. So I didn't need you. And I should have at least reached out to you, in the interim. I...I understand that, now. I...I guess I was afraid I would bother you." Her ears burn with embarrassment, and she looks down at her knuckles. "I'm sorry. I just can't lose another friend right now. I really can't. I'm not...not in the best place." Tears sting her eyes again and she curses, brushing them away angrily.
-
Merc lets out a bitter chuckle, having listened in on Myitt's story. He whispers quietly, only loud enough for Jeffrey to hear. "Sounds to me like this place is a haven for people whose lives have gone to ****. I lost my wife, Myitt lost her guy, you got shot in the goddamn head, and I get the feeling that Dalik is going through more than she's letting on." He takes a long drag of his cigarette and exhales the smoke before continuing. "On the other hand, I don't really know about Ossanilin, Verdana, or William. God, I just can't make heads or tails of this."
He quietly stands up. "I'm gonna go for a piss," he says. "If anything happens, yell."
-
Verdana was glad he didn't have too many family problems. Aside from having a brother with his own issues, and a sister that seemed to feel the need to carry a bigger burden than she really needed to.
-
"No problem," says Jeffrey, looking up at Merc as he leaves. "I'll keep a lookout for trouble."
Jeffrey wished he could've payed more attention to Myitt's story, or cared more, but he'd long since realized that that part of his brain had left him behind years ago. What he did catch was that she'd had it pretty bad, and she'd cared about someone--- Both things he could empathize with. I hope I can do these wasted bastards one right turn before my time's up.
Jeffrey looks towards Verdana and says, "So where were you before you got here, exactly?"
-
"On Earth, in Ireland. My family lives in a little town, near a city outside of Mount Ebott. Dad had this machine in his basement that stopped working, and I got it to work again. And now I'm in this fascinating place."
-
Ossanlin nods to Jeffrey, shrugging a bit. <<I suppose you would say I'm a bit 'weird' too. Not exactly the average andalite. I must say I'm...curious...about you. I'd enjoy a conversation when we both have the opportunity.>> He hopes the not-quite-human would understand that the thought had been directed to him, and him alone.
<Illim and Daniel, of course.> Ossanlin nods to Myitt before realizing that he'd never met them in this timeline...and apparently never would from the way Myitt was acting. <Glad to hear Corliss and Reven are well, though I've not had words with Reven for an unfortunate amount of time either.>
He looks away with his main eyes as Myitt explains the reason for her absence. <You didn't need me. I fail to comprehend how this explanation is supposed to define me as anything more than a fairweather acquaintance to you. You had other friends so you didn't need me. But now you need me so suddenly you care to speak with me again. I wasn't aware that a friendship between two people, even a close relationship such as we had, is predicated upon the whims of only one of those people while the other's thoughts and needs are completely ignored.>
Ossanlin scoffs, draining the rest of his bowl and shuddering a bit at the feeling of the liquor working its way into his body so rapidly. <I'm not blameless, Myitt...but it seems you never even thought about me. I nearly contacted you many times, but the silence from you was deafening. How long before you don't need me again and I'm shuffled off to the back of your mind only to be thought of when you need to use me for something else?>
Ossanlin was letting the liquor do a bit of the talking, but he'd missed Myitt. And he hated how they'd drifted apart. It was partially his fault, he knew that...but slowly, as the months drew longer with no word, his sadness had turned to anger and dejection. He was mad at his old Yeerkish friend for shuffling him out of her life.
-
"So then it's the machine that caused this ruckus for you," says Jeffrey, giving Verdana a sidelong smile. "Just goes to show you kid--- You shouldn't play with Daddy's toys! I mean..." Jeffrey, paused, putting his hand under his chin. "...what did this thing even do? It seems like, far as I can parse it out, you have to know what this place is or get here by some kinda rule. Or whoever owns the Bar gets you here. So far we've seen a grand total of one guy working here, and everything he does creeps me out."
Jeffrey's head suddenly turns back to Ossanlin as the thought enters his mind. He scratches his head, realizing that what Ossanlin sent sounded less audible than the other thoughts he'd sent. Telepath's powers maybe? Directed at me, I guess. Somehow I didn't really notice that he wasn't really talking until like, five seconds ago. He nods. It'd be useless to send anything back--- It's not like he's telepathic, and he can't risk saying, "No one but the blue deer can hear me" with his powers on the fritz like this.
-
"Well after I managed to get it to work, the door opened, and I just had to step inside. It will probably take me back home when i step in it again. As for why it took me to this particular place, I don't know. I had an idea of who Dad was trying to use the machine to find, and maybe it led me here to find a clue about him. a big reason I'm writing stuff down is just to put things on record while I'm here."
-
"Your Dad lost a friend?" says Jeffrey. "A lover? A box of Oreo's? Who was he looking for that he'd need a transdimensional death machine to find?! And you still didn't say what it does. And...hm."
Jeffrey frowns. "...wait a minute. 'Clue about him.' You don't know where Dad is right now?"
-
"Heh. Kind of a mysterious story. It's not my dad that's missing. There once was a royal scientist who created a geothermal power plant that powered everything in the whole Underground. Unfortunately he fell into the machine, and somehow almost all information and memory about him was erased. like he never existed, except his invention remained. Dad had information about him, and there are strange occurences implying that the Man who Speaks in Hands still exists in some fashion. That machine may lead to him."
"I don't know what exact relation he had with Dad. Not even dad is entirely sure. But the machine works, so the search goes on."
-
Dalik's suspicious gaze doesn't leave Ossanlin or Myitt, even as she steps back to the bar and slides onto the stool. Evidently, her earlier thoughts about leaving have fled with the entrance of the Andalite. Now she watches him intently, and you can practically see the gears turning over in her head as she contemplates the situation.
For William's part, he seems to be more at ease with two beers in him. Despite the absurdity of the patrons, he settles more comfortably on the bar stool. "Hey, Blue," he says, speaking to Ossanlin with a ****y smirk. "She's telling the truth, you know. She's over her head with grief and hasn't thought about you since...well, probably since she saw you last, though I can't tell, exactly." He frowns a bit, realizing for the first time that his usual abilities seem a bit dampened. "Strange," he murmurs. Glancing at Jeffrey, he barks, "Tell me a lie."
-
Myitt stares down at the counter.
"You know what?" she says simply. "You're right."
And she walks away from Ossanlin, back to her bottle of liquor. She gives William the barest of glances.
"What the hell would you know about it, anyway?" she asks William sourly.
-
Ossanlin gives William a strange glance before Myitt speaks and walks away. He immediately feels guilty for his words, but they ARE justified from his point of view. He draws from his human experiences to speak again, slapping his hands on the bar counter loudly. <Dammit Yeerk! Get mad! Get angry at me! The Myitt I know wouldn't give up this easily. She'd scrap and fight 'til the end. Snap the hell out of itaaagh...>
Ossanlin's body suddenly jerks, his fur shimmering and turning a bright, iridescent silver along with his hooves and tail. His face contorts into an intense expression of pain that he cannot control. His normally light-blue eyes turn gold and start to burn brightly with an inner light. Meanwhile paroxysms wrack his body as his back legs give out, his tail lashing wildly through the air as he falls, front hooves scrambling. He looks straight at Myitt, eyes wide and burning gold, expression twisted in pain and disbelief before his body suddenly reverts to normal. Blue fur, blue eyes, no paroxysms.
Ossanlin sits on the floor for a moment, breathing hard as he tries to gather himself back up. He slowly gets back to his hooves, gripping the bar counter with both hands, and looks around the room again, still regaining his composure.
-
"What the ****!?" a bemused Merc cries out. Apparently, he had exited the restroom just as Ossanlin's spasms begin. "I leave for five freakin' minutes. . . ." He runs over close to Ossnalin, but keeps a safe distance away. After all, he knew absolutely nothing about Andalites, let alone this one in particular. "Are you alright?" he asks, genuine concern in his voice. "The hell was that?"
-
Verdana's eye lights widened in shock.
"What was that? and no, can we please not get angry, and start a fight?" Somebody needed to get between those two. Someone larger, and able to portray more of a presence than some kid.
-
"Okay, I guess," says Jeffrey, giving William a weird look. "My name is Mr. Snuggles and I am a stuffed bear that helps my daughter get to sleep at night. I totally didn't use drugs to try and soothe her PTSD nightmares--- It was candy all along." Jeffrey shrugs.
But before he can ask William what his deal is, he blinks in surprise as soon as he sees the blue Andalite convulsing and glowing with light. Only one thought burrows his way into his brain: I should help him. Jeffrey realizes immediately that that wouldn't work, because he doesn't know what the Andalite's powers are, but he rushes over beside Merc and Verdana anyway.
"Hey, Ossanlin or whatever, what's going on? Are your powers detrimental like mine? Is this gonna happen a lot? Talk to me."
-
Dalik's eyes widen, and she finally draws her weapon as the Andalite seems to go into some sort of epileptic seizure, complete with an incredibly unusual light show. The metal gun hisses quietly over the leather of her holster, and she thumbs the dial back to a stun before aiming it at Ossanlin. Her expression isn't angry, but both brows are drawn together in a wary furrow.
"Stay back," she tells the patrons rushing to his side. "Do you see that tail of his? If he has another fit he could behead you without realizing it."
Jumping to his feet, William backs away from the Andalite. Where the others seem to feel the urge to help, he simply watches in fascination. "Well, then," he breathes, straightening his sleeves. "That's interesting."
-
Myitt stares at the light show that is her friend, until the brightness makes her wince and look away.
When the display is over she blinks rapidly and looks back at Ossanlin, speechless, her glass of liquor still in her hand.
-
"Put the weapon down, Dalik. You're just going to provoke him."
He tried his best to sound as serious as possible. His eyelights went out briefly, as he heard that Humans found his face even creepier when he didn't have eyelights.
-
A few tremors run through Ossanlin's body as he breathes deeply. Slowly, his composure returns to normal, though his muscles are sore and possibly sprained. He looks at the BT who merely smiles, continuing to dry-wash a single, smudged glass with his dirty towel.
<I'm sorry...> He speaks to the room at large, looking at no one in particular. <I seem to have...momentarily lost control.> Ossanlin does his best to keep his tone of thought steady, though it wavers a bit.
Ossanlin glances at Merc. <I...am somewhat unique. I have the ability to...ascend. Here at this place, it is something I can do consciously, but I did not will it just now. It just...happened, and strongly.> Ossanlin shakes his head slowly.
He moves his main eyes to Jeffrey, still making a conscious effort to breathe deeply. <Detrimental? Not to my knowledge. This...thing...has never happened before...>
He finally notices Dalik with weapon drawn. <If you're going to shoot, do it. I'm sure you'll be very popular afterward.> Ossanlin shakes his head. That was cavalier...and dangerous. But he senses no intent to kill coming from the unknown Yeerk, so if she did shoot, it would either be an act of pure psychosis, or the weapon was set to stun.
Finally he moves his main eyes back to Myitt. <I...I'm sorry.> Clearly the apology this time is for something other than the episode he'd just experienced. He turns back to the bar counter and warily orders another drink.
-
Myitt hops off her seat. "Hey, Ossanlin," she says gently, sidling back over to him, her drink forgotten.
She touches his shoulder hesitantly, worry etched on her face.
"What's happening to you?" she asks under her breath, glancing back at Dalik and the others.
-
Ossanlin dips his hoof into the new bowl slid under the counter and looks over at Myitt with his main eyes. <<I don't know exactly...I suppose it must have something to do with what I did several months back. This is the first time I've returned to the Bar since then...I...did something bad. I don't know if you'd even believe me if I told you.>>
-
Myitt smiles wryly.
"Try me," she replies. "I've seen a lot of ****, you know that."
-
Ossanlin takes a deep breath, inaudibly sighing through his breathing slits. <<Fine, but this is beyond most everything...>> He breathes deeply again before starting in. <<Myitt...this time-state, the current time-line? It's not the right one. Well, it is now, but it wasn't the original.>>
He launches into the entire story regarding Rogue Element and the destruction of the rebellion base. The building of the new space-dock for the Tyrennian. The re-outfit to build a permanent Yeerk pool into the dome. The mixed crew...everything.
<<But then things went bad. People died. Good people, rebels and Andalites both. When I lost you, and the rest of the rebellion left, I knew the Tyrennian was done. So I came back here. I...borrowed some help and entered the time-stream. I stopped the information leak to the Electorate from ever happening. I guess the amount of power I used must've...damaged my connection with the Ellimist or something. It's how I knew who Illim was.>> Ossanlin watches Myitt as he finished recounting his tale.
-
Dalik hesitates, but keeps her weapon aimed at Ossanlin. "I have no desire to harm you," she says, glancing at Verdana as she speaks. "I just don't want that tail of yours crashing through my host's neck. You don't seem to have particularly good control over yourself, Andalite."
She falls silent as he and Myitt begin speaking, the unfamiliar names and events washing over her. By the time he finishes she's lowered her weapon slightly, though it is still gripped firmly in one hand.
William skirts around the Andalite, expression thoughtful as he approaches the bar for another drink. For once, he doesn't join the conversation, sensing it is about a world beyond his own. Instead, he looks to Verdana. "Tell me about these Monsters," he murmurs. "I'd like to know more."
-
Verdana's eyes lit back up a little.
"The other Monsters. Well, our kind is a varied people. There are much more drastic differences in Monster types, as opposed to Human types. One may be a skeleton. Another may be a vegetable. In general, we do not enjoy fighting. Though many of us can, and effectively. Humans tend to be stronger than us, especially those with strong intent to kill. It makes them dangerous, yet there is something that caused Humans to fear us. Humans usually dislike things that look different. Things they aren't familiar with. It can make it difficult for our peoples to get along."
-
Myitt swallows hard.
"You mean in...in the other timeline, we all...just died, or left you?" She shakes her head. "Jesus, Ossy, no wonder you were upset with me."
-
Jeffrey watches the group around Ossanlin cautiously, reaching for his knife impulsively when he sees Dalik's drawn weapon but then taking away his hand. This blue deer, whatever he was, was describing some kind of power that no one in his whole universe had. Unfathomable, insane power...Power that filled Jeffrey with greed and longing. If I could turn back time, there is so ****ing much I would do. Why does Blue Deer Guy get it of all people?! What about the rest of the world's broken hearts?
But Jeffrey shivers and flashes back to the image of his dead sister, with those long, gnarled fingernails and that deadened expression. If I got it, would it really make a difference though?
Jeffrey watches Dalik lower the weapon, and eventually says, "Look, you people...whatever your relations were, and are, all of that...You need to calm the hell down! This place is frayed enough as it is, I think. Okay? Let's settle down while we still can and realize that we're all ****-ups."
-
"Ascend? Look, you're losing me." Merc softens his expression now that he was sure that Ossanlin's convulsions were finished, and his posture returns to normal. "Look, I don't get any of this Andalite or Yeerk stuff or whatever is going on. Seems like that part was skipped over in whatever timeline I come from." He takes his seat next to Jeffrey once more. "If you don't want to explain, it's cool. But a condensed story would be appreciated."
He then takes a long look at Dalik. "Alright. Look, this whole situation is crazy for all of us. I'm not exactly a genius, but even I can see that. But I think the gun might be a bit too dramatic, right?"
-
Dalik glances at the gun, then back up at Mercer. "It's set to stun," she says. "It won't kill him. It won't even hurt him. At worst it will keep him from accidentally beheading you." She hesitates, then reholsters the weapon. "The Andalites are at war with my people," she tells him. "The abbreviated version is that they showed us a world beyond our pools, but limited our ability to access it. When my cousins took it upon themselves to leave our planet it resulted in an all-out war that's still being fought."
She shrugs her narrow shoulders. "Both sides are responsible for quite a bit of evil, and in general we aren't too fond of one another." Her head tilts as she considers Myitt. "There are, of course, exceptions to every rule."
"Vegetables?" William echoes, eyebrows shooting up. He laughs. "Really? What sort of powers do you have, goat-man?"
-
"My powers. Hm..."
He place his hands above the table. A circle of white, and a circle of orange appeared, and out of them rose a bone, and a small fir. Neither of them effected the wood underneath.
"Bones, and fire. One coming from my father's side, and the other my mother's. My parents are actually capable of a lot more, but I'm just a mostly untrained child. I can fight, but I'm not a one man army. You see?"
-
William nods, letting out a low, impressed whistle. "Impressive," he acknowledges, brushing his ponytail back over his shoulder. "So your powers get stronger as you age?" He tilts his head. "What makes humans stronger than you?"
-
"Human souls are inherrently stronger due to what is called determination. The refusal to die in the face of great danger. If you have an intense desire to kill, a Human can defeat practically any Monster in one attack. There are certain alternate universes where a Child can enter the Underground, and slaughter everyone with a stick."
"Yet they fear our ability to take that power for ourselves, because it would make our own power grow exponentially. A Monster who has taken seven Human souls could become a god. Yet this is not our desire. We only wish to live in peace, and it is the inherent violent nature of Humans that keeps this peace from happening."
-
Ossanlin shakes his head a bit. <No...well...yes I suppose. A few of you stuck with us, but after Keslin died, we lost a lot of the pirate rebellion members. They blamed me after all...he died following my orders. When you went missing, my only thought was that you'd lost your life. The alliance fragmented without the both of you holding things together.>
He drinks deeply from the bowl, closing his eyes for a moment before moving on. <I was never mad with her...the other Myitt. She and I were closer. Brought together by the tragedy and mutual struggle for survival. Reven had died in the attack. You...I mean she and Keslin were sort of sitting at the helm of the rebellion.> He pauses in thought before speaking again. <But perhaps the other Myitt is indirectly responsible...we shared a closer relationship. Maybe a part of me supplanted that closeness onto my relationship with this version of you, and thus I felt shunted when you didn't speak with me.>
He glances at Dalik and then Merc. <Yes, I can...become more than myself. The Silver Blades are a very unique derivative species of Andalite...touched by the Ellimist. I'm not pure Silver Blade though, or I would be silver all the time. As such I do not have some of the more awe-inspiring abilities that Silver Blades have, but I have a greater stamina for using my own abilities than full Silver Blades do.>
He spares a stalk eye for Dalik. <What she said is true, however she forgot to mention that the majority of Yeerks enslave their hosts against the host's will. Once a Yeerk is fully infested, the host has no control over their own actions unless the Yeerk allows it. As such, the host is entrapped in their own mind, unable to act. A former Andalite Prince called Seerow was the one who gave the Yeerk's space-travel. And that's when the Empire began traipsing around the galaxy infesting entire planets against their will. The Andalites have sworn to stop the infestation from spreading, taking responsibility upon themselves for Seerow's Kindness.>
-
"That...sounds like a headache, so I understand that you guys might have a bit of animosity between yourselves, but..." Jeffrey squirms a bit. "...I mean, do the head-parasite guys actually have the ability to not take control of people? Like...My abilities are..." Jeffrey clears his throat, and allows the music to form around him, the strange humming and reverberating that seems to entrance people. "...I can make people believe whatever I say. Or at least pay a lot of attention to it. And ...in places other than this Bar, I think, if I don't do it...I...die. And if I do do it, I go crazy."
"Did these guys have another option other than to do what they did?" says Jeffrey. He sighs. "Just asking."
-
"Oh, sure," Dalik says casually. "We have the option of returning to our pools. To a world without sight, without limbs, without sound, and without the ability to travel the stars."
Her smile is thin. "Of course, if we chose to return to the pools the Andalite people would also ensure we never again were permitted to leave. They would disregard the advances we've made and have us return to...to what you humans would consider a caveman culture. It isn't a choice at all."
William nods slowly. "I see," he murmurs. "That's interesting. Where I come from, the humans are infinitely weaker than us. In fact, some humans do consider us gods, though of course that's the product of ridiculous superstition."
-
"I have heard stories Humans made of fictional Monsters. Strange beings of pure malevolence, that are far stronger than your typical Humans. I think Humans like to pretend Monsters are more dangerous than they are, to make themselves feel better about discriminating against us. They do it to different groups of their own kind as well. It's quite strange."
Verdana overheard some of Dalik's conversation. He couldn't help but sympathize with the idea of not being shunted into a small portion of space, just because of a threat your people pose. Though he was in no position to pick a side.
-
Merc turns around to face Verdana, having listened in to his conversation with William. He didn't quite grasp the scope of what Ossanlin was saying. "Funny that, 'cause I haven't heard any Monster stories in years." He smiles, although whether this is an expression of amusement or bitterness is unclear. "I guess we don't need to come up with some fake bull**** about you guys. Turns out, humans are the real monsters after all."
-
"So instead you enslave everyone that so much as has a body and looks at you funny," says Jeffrey, a vaguely thoughtful look on his face. He gives Dalik a somewhat saddened expression, for someone as drunk as he's rapidly getting. Although it is taking an unusually long time. "...that's what a lot of the Espers do, too. If you can control someone else, and to change anything you need to control someone else, you'll do it by force eventually. And I guess with you guys it was either do it or live the rest of your lives with nothing. I understand at least part of that sentiment....becaus e I did it. And with a whole lot less justification than a whole planet and species to worry about the future of."
Jeffrey looks toward Merc with a smirk. "As for the thing about the humans and Monsters...That one's right on the nose! Humans are always the real monsters. We lie to one another, hurt one another, torture one another and when we're caught..." Jeffrey takes another sip of his drink. He doesn't even recall asking for a refill. "...we claim we had a good reason for turning some other man into juicy mincemeat."
-
"Humans are a strange race. Often they like to choose an arbitrarily small number of fellow Humans to care about, at the expense of their species at large. It's a wonder they even made it as far as they did."
-
William laughs faintly. "Humans can be monstrous, yes, but they aren't the only monsters. And some monstrous acts are well justified." He gives a sharp smile, then helps himself to a seat next to Verdana.
Dalik's eyes narrow. "I wasn't even born on the Homeworld," she says. "To return to our pools, to hand over our hosts, would be asking me to live out my life in a cage. To sacrifice everything I've ever known or been capable of. Yes, I can control Cameron, and yes my species as a whole can control many others. But the Empire is foolish if they think force will be effective indefinitely." She taps her chest. "Cameron allows me here, of her own volition, and in return I keep her alive through this foolish war. And, perhaps, provide some semblance of decent company."
-
"It is best to just actions, and not people. There are good Monsters, and bad Monsters. Good Humans, and bad Humans. Good Yeerks, and bad Yeerks. And so forth."
-
"Keslin and I..." Myitt trails off, frowning. "Ossanlin, I understand why you were upset. But I've gotta tell you, that this me?" She taps her chest. "I never meant to abandon you, and I certainly never abandoned you to a war you couldn't win."
She swallows and tugs up her black sleeves. "But these are still here." With a couple of fingers she traces the Hork-Bajir blade marks, the long and tan scars on the underside of her forearms, remnants of Serid's attack long ago.
-
"Brute force, I suppose?" Merc slides the last of his money across the bar for one more drink. "Wiping out every other race until good ol' Homo Sapiens ruled the Earth." He stops for a minute to consider what Jeffrey said. "We claim we had a good reason for turning some other man into juicy mincemeat. . . ." Maybe there was something to take from that. . . .
No matter. He was still miles and possibly in a different dimension from home. If he ever manages to get back home, then he'd consider the implications. "So, Ireland, huh?" he says in a very transparent attempt to change the subject. "Never been there myself. Nice place?"
-
"It's kind of cold. And it rains a lot. Still, I'd take just about any place on the Surface over the Underground. I guess I can thank the stars I wasn't born in a prison."
-
"Okay..." says Jeffrey, holding up a finger, and looking at Dalik. "Let me see if I've got this tangled mess straight. There's the Empire, a bunch of goons who think you can just keep enslaving everyone until there's nobody free left--- The..." He counts his fingers. "...the blue deer guys, the Andalites, pretty thought-sending people who fight them and try and get them to go back home. And then you've got the rebels, which is whatever Myitt is. But if that's true..."
Jeffrey grins at Dalik. "...then what're you, milady, since if I'm remembering right you're...none of them? An outsider? A lone gunman at high noon?" He chuckled.
-
Dalik's lips twist into a scowl. "I'm myself," she says flatly. "I'm not gunning anyone down. The rebels waste valuable time and resources planning failed attacks that only expose them." Her hand drops to her holster, but it doesn't touch her weapon. Rather, it brushes over the small pouch that holds her computer cube.
"I fight the Empire in my own way," she says. Her narrow gaze slides to Ossanlin. "The Andalites as well. I turn their technology against them."
-
Ossanlin nods at Myitt. <I know that. I suppose I merely got used to the close camaraderie we built in Rogue Element. I'm not mad at the other Myitt...I was simply sad. In mourning. I suppose that's part of the reason that I took the insane risk that I did.>
He glances at Myitt's arms, furrowing his main eyes, the events that might've caused them cloudy in his mind at best. <Hork-Bajir wounds...my memory regarding events around the time-shift are foggy...Serid?> Ossanlin tries hard to dig the memory up but is unsuccessful.
-
Merc nods slightly at Jeffrey's assessment of the situation. "Makes sense," he mumbles to himself. He then turns to Dalik, a focused, inquisitive look on his face. "So, you're fighting this Empire and the Andalites? Gotta admit, I like the ambition there. Killing two birds with one stone. But I have to imagine that's quite a bit to take on at once." He downs his last shot, this one tequila, cringing subtly at the flavor. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to discourage you, but that sounds like some risky business. Unless you got others on your side, pissing off two armies at once is flirtin' with disaster, lemme tell you."
-
"Probably, yeah!" says Jeffrey, chuckling a bit. "I mean if the Andalites don't like you for some reason, outright going after them and the main government is daring, but it's asking for trouble! Reminds me a bit of a crazy old...Well I wouldn't really call her a friend, per se, but a serial killer with standards that I liked back at home. She would've liked that strategy."
"Are you a Technopa---never mind," says Jeffrey, waving his hand back and forth. He looks towards Dalek. "...a hacker, that is? Is that it? No death, just dead mainframes and Techs scrambling to fix the mess?"
-
For the first time, Dalik grins outright, both Merc and Jeffrey's commentary seeming to please her. "A hacker, yes," she says. "That's the closest terminology." She shakes her head, still smiling. "I don't deal with making technicians scramble, though. Nothing so small and insignificant. When you can take control of, say, the life support systems of an Imperial ship, you can have an incredibly permanent effect on the livelihood of the crew. It's difficult to live without oxygen."
She glances at Mercer. "Of course it's risky. There's nothing worth doing that isn't risky. Eventually I'll be captured and killed for it. That's a fate I accept."
-
Merc laughs - a harsh, choppy sound. "****, finally something I can understand," he says, grinning from ear to ear. "Can't say I really get your cause, but I gotta love a good bit of anarchy. As long as I'm not in the crossfire, at least. But on the other hand . . ." he briefly glances at Ossanlin. "I doubt all these Andalites are bad guys. He seems cool, at the very least. Just saying, it's best to pick your battles."
-
"I don't know this particular Andalite," Dalik admits, giving Ossanlin a narrow look. "I've heard his name, of course, but the names of Andalite captains run together before too long. And just because he 'seems cool'," she wrinkles her nose at the expression, "that hardly means he wouldn't wholeheartedly champion the destruction of my people. Most Andalites have the unfortunate habit of seeing the world in black and white."
-
"He..." Jeffrey looks slightly uncomfortable and hesitant. "...I think that a guy like that used to be my best friend. And so I don't think it's as cut and dry as all that. Although actually..." Jeffrey blinks. "...this is the first time I've ever really been able to think about it. What is this flipping Bar..."
"Anyway, my guy went into black and white vision after I killed someone he was dating," says Jeffrey, rolling his eyes. "That whole thing was a cluster****, basically--- The point being is he didn't start seeing the world like that. He got to seeing the world like that after getting burned from it. And it seems to me that that dude over there? He's learned one better. One of the other tapeworms here seems to be an old friend of his."
-
Dalik's gaze falls on Myitt. "I've noticed," she says, choosing not to respond to being called a tapeworm. "She's a rebel. I don't know much about her, beyond the hefty price on her head, but I know plenty about her type. They're reckless. Her forming an alliance with an Andalite doesn't mean I should trust one."
Her eyes shift to Ossanlin. "Though, I must admit, it is...quite interesting, being so close to one. I've never actually seen an Andalite before. Only holos." Shaking herself, she smiles at Jeffrey. "Do you make a habit of killing people's dates?"
-
Myitt nods, rolling the sleeves of her black jacket back down.
"Yeah," she says. "Serid. Um. Serin? ****. It's been so long, I blocked his name. I remember what he did to you, and I remember what he did to us. We did have to move our base, you know." She leans an elbow on the counter. "That kind of thing is hard to forget. So somewhere after that, and before or during Rogue Element, our timelines got all muddied up." She pauses, considering.
"Or, my memories got ****ed with. That's not out of the question, unfortunately," she adds blandly.
She can't help glancing over at Dalik and Jeffrey. The Dalik the Prime she knew was supposed to be long dead.
<<Hm,>> she comments to her host. <<Stranger things have happened.>>
-
Jeffrey barks out a laugh. "Hah, no, not deliberately--- I'm an equal-opportunity killer," he says with an impish grin. "I might be killing somebody's date on certain occasions, but most of the time it's pretty unknowing! I value young love and romantic initiative! The long walks in the night, the dances underneath the stars......but this was..."
Jeffrey scowls. "...it was kind of a special case, okay? Prospero--- Derek's his real name---was dating a goddamn cape. A Hero. Where I'm from, he's not supposed to do that. It causes too many complications."
-
"Can't blame him for losing his **** after that," Merc says, not looking at anyone else in particular. "But really, I got no room to judge. Probably ruined quite a few peoples' lives myself."
Merc closes his eyes for a second to collect his thoughts. "Alright, I'll level with you guys here. I'm not exactly a good guy myself. Pretty much the opposite, actually. I'm a part-time hitman, part-time con man. That guy that shot Dani? Yeah, I kinda lied. That wasn't over some petty bull****. I scammed that guy out of every cent he had." His hand tightens around the edge of the bar. "But I do what I do to survive, and I assume it's the same for you, Jeffrey. This mother****er had no right."
-
Jeffrey shakes his head. "Look, man, where I'm from, everybody does what they gotta do to survive, okay? I blame Prospero for lying to me and, ultimately, betraying me--- Not so much for everything he did afterward. After all, when some crazy person kills your loved one, even if he was your best friend, you've gotta find a...new direction in life." Jeffrey chuckles a bit.
"And yeah, if the guy had a grudge against you, he still should've killed you," says Jeffrey, shrugging. "Not your wife. It's not fair to bring the outsider into it when they don't have to do with it."
-
"It must be pretty rough if you think you have to kill people just to survive." Verdana said.
-
Dalik's eyes flit back and forth throughout the conversation. "Everyone does what they have to do to survive," she concludes quietly. "It's just messier for some people than others." Her narrow shoulders lift in a shrug.
Looking bored with the conversations, William ambles up to the bar. "I'll take another round for the the lot of them," he says to the bartender, his dashing smile having absolutely no effect. The bartender solemnly sets aside the glass he is drying and begins preparing the drink of choice for each of the patrons. With a small flourish, William tosses a small parcel of coins on the counter.
-
Myitt overhears William and glares, arching her neck so she can try and make eye contact along the line of the bar counter.
"Hey, buddy, don't order anything for me," she warns loudly. "I've got my own drink, and it's a whole bottle's worth, and I don't need yours." She makes an impatient Italian hand gesture, a 'whaddayou thinking' toss of her hands, before turning back to Ossanlin with a bitter grumble.
-
Ossanlin's eyes brighten with realization as he runs his fingers down Myitt's arms, along the scars underneath the fabric. <Serin!...yes. I didn't know he'd scarred you in that scuffle. You saved me from his infestation once...back in the early days. Then from death multiple times at many different points in our history. I'm thankful for that, I always have been...and I always will be.>
He withdraws his hands as Myitt throws hers in the air before turning back to look at him again. He's aware of the strange man's offer to buy a drink for everyone, though he doesn't remove his main eyes from Myitt. <I suppose you never actually met Serid now that I think about it. He was an andalite member of my crew, my FAS officer, and a diligent member of the Rogue Element. So...the time-alteration was a part of the reason for my confusion, though not in the way I'd expected.>
Ossanlin pauses before speaking up quietly. <Myitt...I'm sorry for my comments. I'm also sorry for your loss. I knew Daniel in the other timeline, though not that well. He seemed like a good man, and Illim a good Yeerk.>
-
Jeffrey shoots a sardonic look at William. "Really? You're going to buy drinks for everyone in a Bar run by a guy who never talks and seems to be able to make anything, including any drink? I hope you're ready for the ****ing consequences of that, man." Jeffrey wasn't really sure why he was assuming there were consequences, but it itched at the back of his mind. This William guy had better have a lot of money.
"And Verdana...hey, that's...kind of how it is where I'm from," says Jeffrey, shrugging. "Probably where Dalik is from, too," he said, shooting Dalik a look, and then Merc. "I think a lot of people in this Bar have some pretty ****ed up backgrounds. And as for me...My powers work better when I do some damage--- Physically or mentally. That, and I'm a supervillain. I got good at it." Jeffrey shrugged.
"Anyway, you're a flipping monster," he says, looking at Verdana quizzically. "You don't have to kill to survive? Scientists or no, you pretty much pointed out to us that the humans don't like ya."
-
"Some do. A lot don't. But there's a different between defending yourself, and killing people. Many of use have such control over our magics that we always know when to stop before the killing blow is made. My uncle is one of the best at that, growing up with a brother as frail as my dad. One of the problems with Humans is they like to make weapons that are lethal by design."
-
"I think most of the time, humans don't really know how to make non-lethal weapons like that," says Jeffrey. "I mean sure there are tasers, stunners, blocking devices, and a couple of powers that don't really strictly speaking kill people, but other humans are usually going for the kill. In that situation, it's do or die."
"As for me specifically..." Jeffrey grinned. "...while I prefer my victims alive, I've had to do my fair share of killing, yes. Depends on your goal."
-
"I guess you can chalk it up to me just being a child. I'm sure my parents protect me from a lot of dark things in the world. I won't judge you. I just....don't really understand how you talk about killing so casually. It's unnerving."
-
"I guess you become used to killing after a while," Merc says with a somewhat bitter undertone to his voice. "What's the word? 'Desensitized?' Either way, when you're a professional supervillain, or in my case, a walking, talking flamethrower, it sort of comes with the territory." He glances over in Myitt's direction. Still talking about stuff he knew nothing about. Frankly, it was rather boring to him.
"If it makes you uncomfortable, though, we can change the subject."
-
"My little girl started killing when she was about twelve or so, so..." Jeffrey looks over Verdana. "...based on your approximate age, I'd say that's an appropriate time to begin, but it's hard to guess since you're not human."
"As for talking about it casually....eh," says Jeffrey, shrugging. "I live in a Dome overcrowded with at least a hundred million more people than there need to be in there. We can't go Outside, so people die every day. Call the Villains a form of...proactive population control. Now if I had my way nobody would be overpopulating the place, but I don't run my world kid--- The Guardian Council does. You could say I'm throwing around ideas about how to end up running the world."
-
"I wouldn't mind. What constructive things do you do for fun?"
-
Jeffrey laughs. "Well, as a side business of sorts, I get on TV and sing a lot. Although they pretty strictly regulate whatever I sing, especially on the operettas----" Jeffrey winks. "...wouldn't want people getting the wrong idea, don't you know, what with how my powers normally work and all."
"I also research the time Merc's from and watch all kinds of old movies, real weird stuff from the early 2000s and old Joss Whedon flicks!" said Jeffrey, giggling. "The things they used to think about superheroes, hehe! Even the Mundanes got in on the action as Hypers, like Batman!"
-
"I've got a couple of friends who like history too, and there's a Monster celebrity who works in entertainment. He's pretty cool. My dad loves him. Might actually be in love with him, but I never got a confirmation on that."
-
"Hm, wouldn't have pinned you as the musical type," Merc comments. "Mostly, I spend my time wandering the city, finding interesting spots. I guess you could call it urban exploration, but there's not much of a scene for that outside of New York, from what I've heard. I can play piano, but not well. Mostly transcribing songs I happen to hear on the radio." He hooks his arm over the back of his chair. "Dunno. Just whatever I can do to keep myself occupied. What about you, Verdana?"
-
"I like getting my hands in pretty much anything, Merc. I'm still young, and haven't settled on any lifelong interests."
-
"Singing comes kinda naturally to an Esper, because people hear whatever they want to with us--- So a lot of us take up roles on TV and in the theater," says Jeffrey, rather casually. "I could rattle off a few bars of Prince Raus in the Impresario if you'd be interested in hearing. With that saaaaiiid..."
"What did you find out there Merc?" says Jeffrey impishly. "Out in the cities? You'd love the Dome. The place is probably five times the size of any regular old Outside city back in the day! Just find a buddy for safety and you'd be off to the races!"
"Also, come on Verdana, there's gotta be something."
-
"I like sports. Soccer, basketball, that kind of thing. Like most kids, I like being outside doing stuff, most of the time. When I'm not, I injoy puzzles. Something to keep my mind sharp."
-
"Mostly, all I find is a whole lot of nothing." Merc waves his hand dismissively. "Bunch'a rat nests and empty dimebags. Really, it's only worth it for the exercise, and the occasional piece of interesting graffiti or good vantage point." He rolls his eyes, a small grin on his face. "You sometimes find some dealers or homeless guys. Most of the time, they're chill, but some of them get hostile. 'Course, nothing I can't take care of."
"Used to really be into sports myself," Merc says to Verdana. "Do any Monsters play professionally, or is it just for fun?"
-
"Sure, some play professionally. My Uncle has a best friend who makes money playing football. She loves tackling people on the field."
-
Myitt sighs, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling of having her back to William and the others along the bar counter. The tremors from the oatmeal still make her hands tremble. That much, that quickly, and after so long...it would be a long narcotic hangover.
But not yet.
"I know, Ossanlin," she says quietly. "It's okay. It's really been too long, and we deserve to get to know one another again." She grins a little. "Like the old days. Though Serid...I knew of him, too. That's probably why I was confused. Serid was Illim's former host, before...um, before Daniel, you know." She waves a hand dismissively, looking around, wishing she had her drink close at hand.
-
William ignores Myitt completely and favors Jeffrey with a broad smile. "It's the consequences I'm entirely looking forward to," he says with a grin. He takes his own fresh ale and helps himself to a seat beside Mercer. "Cheers." He tilts his tankard and gives a crooked smile.
Dalik sighs in exasperation as the bartender produces another lemonade for her. "While the thought is appreciated," she tells William dryly, "I doubt the results will be quite what you're expecting."
She turns back to the conversation. "Death is death. Everyone dies eventually, some deserve it, some don't. But if you spend time agonizing over the morality of it you end up paralyzed. Or stuck in the Peace Movement. Either way, nothing actually happens. Change is often accompanied by death."
-
Ossanlin sighs, watching the BT to make sure he doesn't pour any oatmeal into the drink he sets beside Myitt. His eyes flash, seeming to read Ossanlin's thoughts, before he goes back to doing nothing slowly.
Myitt's comments regarding Serid seem to tug at a memory, though it's clouded and hazy. Only the clearest and most-meaningful events have stayed with him...perhaps the Timestream hadn't completely shielded him from changing his own past, though certain events remain clear as crystal in his mind's eye.
<I might have known that once, though I didn't seem to anymore. I'm still not aware of all of the ramifications of my actions. The ripples of my actions travel further and grow larger as they go. I only hope they have not set into motion a chain of events that will lead to something terrible. Some might see it as heroic for the lives and influence saved...but others, those who could think in such terms, would see it for what it was...the selfish, greedy act of a desperate military leader playing with a power he could barely comprehend.> He drinks deeply from his fresh bowl of fermented grass liquor. <I just hope that I'm the only one who will have to pay the price.>
-
"Puzzles, eh kid?" says Jeffrey, sighing. "I can't say I'm exactly a fan, but if you're young it's probably good to solve fake problems before tackling real ones."
When he overhears William, he says "Still, I'm just saying," says Jeffrey, giving a kind of shrug with just his right arm and hand to William. "You've gotta be careful in here. We know exactly jack **** about that Bartender."
Jeffrey sips his drink idly and listens to the conversations around him for a moment. Not really seeing a point where he should intervene except when Ossanlin begins speaking on power. He remembers vividly the odd feeling he gets around the blue deer, and the strange desire of the thing to talk to him at some later point. What the hell could we possibly have to talk about? ...something....I guess...
"Power?" Jeffrey finds himself barking out, with almost a laugh. "Look pala--- Ossanlin, power is as power does and no one understands it. Feeling guilty over it is stupid! I don't even know why I got my power--- I doubt anyone does in my whole Dome; It's like a roll of the dice whether or not the key genes'll express themselves. It doesn't even really matter how much you have, because it's a means to an end! You just need enough to do whatever it is you're trying to do. If you really needed to turn back time, I'd say however much you have is enough." After all, I needed enough to alter the will of everyone in the Dome...My own was never enough. I dreamed of having the breadth of your ability, was willing to die for it...and you're scared of the consequences?
-
"Yeah, puzzles are pretty nice. I'm sure as I get older, I'll have new responsibilities that take priority over sudoku books, or whatever, but right now I have a lot of free time to explore."
-
Ossanlin frowns, directing a stalk eye at Jeffrey. <The moment you lose respect for the power you wield, or more importantly, your own actions with that power...you lose integrity and honor. You become corrupt. You become dangerous to everyone, including yourself.> He pauses a moment, sensing a sort of almost-thought-speech from the being he originally thought to be human.
<<People who want power rarely have the integrity to wield it. And most certainly no one who's NOT afraid of the sweeping ramifications of this power should EVER wield it. There should never be death unless there is no other option, and this ability has the power to cause death on a galactic scale.>>
-
Merc gives a quick glance to William as he takes his seat. Something about this guy just seems . . . off. He can't quite place it - just something set Merc on edge. And sitting right next to him wasn't exactly helping. Damned if I'm gonna let this guy get to me. . . .
"Thing is," Merc starts, looking back to Jeffrey, "do the ends really justify the means? Don't get me wrong, I've done some ****ed up stuff to get what I need - I'm a hitman, for God's sake - but there's got to be some line of morality. Like, something that you just wouldn't do. Don't you have that?"
He shakes his head, calming down. No need to get so worked up again. "Besides, sounds like that butterfly effect thing applies pretty strongly here. Might end up screwing things up beyond repair when all you wanted was a small change."
-
"How in the world am I supposed to respect a power that is literally killing me?" says Jeffrey, a strange humming seeming to emanate around him for a few moments. There was something very strange about this man's voice, at times--- It seemed to sound akin to whatever would be most convincing to the listener, no matter if that was speech or not. "And power is killing you too, isn't it? But getting scared and running away from it won't change a ****ing thing--- At the end of the day you'll look yourself in the mirror and that power will still be there with you. Time will still be your ball of string to play with."
Jeffrey turns his head his head and looks over at Merc. He closes his eyes and thinks. "Ends don't justify the means, huh? If you..." Jeffrey thinks about how to phrase this, putting his elbow up on the table so he could prop up his chin. "...if you could end war, end suffering, end hatred and bigotry, with one evil act, and still keep everyone totally alive and happy...You seriously wouldn't do it? There's a point where the end's potent enough that the means don't matter. Most cases they will, but sometimes they won't."
"Only thing I'd never do is hurt my kid," says Jeffrey.
-
"That reminds me of how Monsters decided they were going to get out of the Underground. out of their prison. They needed seven souls, and the higher powers decided to give it to them. Seven goodhearted, more or less innocent children. Six of them murdered, while the seventh found a way to really solve the problem. You should take care not to get tunnelvision in your desperation to find a solution to a problem."
-
"Power is power," Dalik responds to Ossanlin flatly. "It's a tool to be wielded." He nods to Jeffrey. "The ends absolutely justify the means in certain cases." She sips her lemonade.
William shrugs, sipping his ale. "Who needs to know anything about the bartender? He serves drink and food, he accepts coin. Beyond that, he's about as interesting as the front door."
When Dalik speaks, he laughs, attention shifting. "You actually believe that," he says, matter-of-factly. "How many people have you killed?"
"I don't know," Dalik responds, giving him a suspicious look. "I don't care."
William's smile broadens. "Ah, now that you don't believe. It bothers you, doesn't it?"
Dalik's lip curls. "It is absolutely none of your business, sir. Nor does it change anything." She tugs her lemonade closer and glowers down at it.
Licking his lips, he watches her. "You're a bit young to be off fighting a war, aren't you?" he asks. "Why don't you go find your mum and let the adults talk?" He gives her a dismissive wave, but he isn't finished. "Or if you'd prefer, places like this often rent a room. I'd be happy to relieve you from your distress." His grin is predatory.
-
Myitt is silent for a time, not touching the drink that the bartender placed in front of her.
She takes in the conversation around her only tangentially, focusing instead on her inner monologue - and what Ossanlin had said.
"It's still good to see you, my old friend," she says finally, giving Ossanlin's shoulder a squeeze before pacing back to her original seat. She pours another glass of the red liquor and sips it, closing her eyes.
-
"After that, William, I think if Dalik decides to shoot you, I won't be one to stop her....."
-
Suddenly, Merc's right arm becomes engulfed in blue flame. When he speaks to William, his voice is quiet, but dangerous. "Leave her alone, ****boy." Somehow, the sleeves of his black t-shirt seem unaffected by the fire. "I may be a scumbag, but there's a line, and buddy, you crossed it."
-
<<And you, Myitt. Tara. I'm glad to have your friendship.>>
Ossanlin's main eyes favor Jeffry with a look of cool detachment...the mask he's perfected to hide strong emotions. <Running away? You think that abstaining from using an ability too powerful for mortal hands and mortal minds is running away? How easy would it be for me to return to the timestream and stop Seerow from EVER communing with Yeerks?> He turns his eyes on Dalik. <Or to alter time so that your species never even exists? Either would stop the scourge of the Empire before it even starts. Countless lives saved, an entire galactic war averted, a deadly game of Gods completely subverted.> He turns his main eyes back to Jeffry. <Are you saying that such an end would justify planetary genocide?! I'd be no better than Alloran. Sky forgive me, but how could any being with even the smallest appreciation for life possibly think that such an act is not only acceptable, but should be perpetrated where possible?>
He turns his main eyes back to Dalik. <And you...power is a tool to be used? You would never know, perhaps never even exist, but assuming you would and did, do you really want me to confine your species back to the murky pools of your homeworld never to see the light of the stars, or hear the wash of the breeze through the grass? Or to cause your entire species to never exist at all? If my power is a tool, then it can do any and all of that. The only thing that stops it is me.> Ossanlin abstains from mentioning that those actions, having taken place long ago, would likely require more power to change than he could summon even now. The point, however, is still valid.
Ossanlin feels the convulsions coming on again, but this time forces himself to ascend in a controlled fashion, fur, hooves, and tail-blade turning silver, blue eyes turning bright gold and glowing once again with an inner light. He keeps his shudders under control, though the pain is immense. He levitates a knife from the bar counter, holding it up so that both Dalik and Jeffry can see it, hanging in mid-air. The knife has seen better days, but it still gleams a dull silver.
<This power could destroy you...your entire species.> Ossanlin accelerates time around the knife dramatically and the thing tarnishes, rusts, and then disintegrates into brown powder in no more than two seconds. He lets the powder fall back to the bar counter. <And you...mind-bender. Your power kills you if you don't use it...but harms others when you do. The noble man would simply abstain and absorb the consequences.> Ossanlin closes his eyes, fur and irises reverting to blue, tail to pearl-white, and hooves to black.
He takes a deep breath, once again opening his eyes. <Be careful what you wish for.>
Ossanlin turns back toward the bar, taking a deep drink from his bowl. The knife, unlike the rest of the bar, does not mend itself. The BT flashes Ossanlin a dangerous look that almost seems to border upon surprise...perhaps the BT himself had underestimated the strength of Ossanlin's newly widened connection to the Ellimist. The knife had been exposed too strongly to the element of a foreign entity. The BT slowly wipes the brown rust powder from the bar top, sweeping it into his hand where it seems to disappear.
A few moments later, Merc's arm turns to fire. Ossanlin loosens his katana in their sheathes and stiffens his tail, but makes no other moves...if William and the Yeerk wanted to engage in some sort of cross-dimensional pleasantries, he surely would not stop them, but Merc seems like a bit of a loose cannon...although something about William's suggestion seems to have set him off. The man had, after all, shown Ossanlin kindness and compassion earlier.
-
There is a loud scrape as William pushes his chair back, nearly upending it as Merc's arm erupts into flames. His ale sloshes over the top of his tankard.
His inital surprise and fear evaporates quickly, replaced by indignant anger. "You made me stain my britches, you ass!"
Dalik's fingers clench around the glass of lemonade throughout William's idiotic advances. She gratefully turns her attention to Ossanlin's display, glad to have something -- even an Andalite -- to distract her. The show has its intended effect. By the time the bartender sweeps away the rusted powder Dalik's skin is pale and her her lips are pursed tight.
Still, the tilt of her chin is defiant.
"I said power was a tool, I didn't say it was a hammer," she says scathingly. "You don't perform surgery with a butcher's knife for a reason." Her muscles are tense, and its obvious from the way she is holding herself, stiff and upright in the chair, that Ossanlin frightens her, and that her fear only serves to anger her further.
"Show me all the magic tricks you want, Andalite," she continues, "but your abilities, whatever they are, are still tools at your disposal. You can't argue that point." Her lip twitches and she shakes her head in disbelief. Some of the tension and anger drops from her tone, replaced by incredulity. "By the Kandrona, if you can do that why haven't you ended the war? Any other Andalite would."
-
Myitt watches the exchange through half-lidded eyes, wondering dimly if she's imagining the disintegrating knife.
She sighs and takes another, small sip of liquor, but her heart isn't into it.
"At least chivalry isn't completely dead," she mutters, half to herself, watching Merc with an amused quirk of her mouth.
Myitt considers responding to Dalik and Ossanlin's side conversation. Why not destroy the Yeerk race, indeed.
"Just keep it together," she hisses through gritted teeth, as a wave of narcotic chills washes over her.
-
"Serves you right," Merc snarls, allowing the flames on his arm to die down. His expression softens very slightly - but not much. "Womanizing pricks. If I had my way, I'd show every one of 'em their place." He mumbles this under his breath, but he's sure William gets the idea.
He turns his attention to Myitt, having barely heard her over the other commotion. "Doesn't have much to do with chivalry, I hate to admit. Let's just say that I've had a nasty experience with someone who couldn't get his mind out of the gutter."
-
<Because I have ethics, Dalik. Every life matters. Every life has meaning. And I'm no dull-minded, arrogant, misled bigot. Yeerks have as much a right to live and survive in this galaxy as any other species or form of life. It's when that right is abused, when one species takes away the freedom of others to live as they choose, when I take umbrage. The Empire is evil...Yeerks are just people like everyone else, and if they have found a truly symbiotic relationship with a consenting host, and they don't seek to forward unethical agents, obviously I have no issues with them.> He gestures toward Myitt.
As Merc calms back down, he allows his katana to settle back into their sheathes and his tail returns to the lazy back and forth sweeping motion which occurs naturally when at rest.
-
William's scowl only deepens. "What's wrong with wanting to have a little fun?" he demands. "Plenty of women I've met are just as interested in a good time." He gives Dalik a reproachful glance. "If she's yours, I'll not interfere, of course. I've already died once, I'm not eager to repeat the experience."
Dalik stares at Ossanlin, her indignation overridden by utter bewilderment. Her eyebrows furrow and she considers her next words slowly. "While I admit I have never before met an Andalite...you are not at all what I imagined. Magic tricks aside, isn't even saying that treasonous? An Andalite taking no issue with a Yeerk?" She shakes her head. "Even if that were true, to say as much would mark you a traitor to your people, wouldn't it?" Her eyes narrow slightly. "Are you a traitor? I've heard of Andalites who defected and traded secrets with the Empire. I've even intercepted a few of their transmissions over the eyars. But I've never heard of an Andalite who works with neither the Electorate or the Empire."
-
Myitt glances over at Merc, hugging her arms.
"Well, whatever your reasons," she says tremulously, shivering, "it's noble of you."
To distract herself from the onslaught of brain-numbing narcotic obsession, she shakily pours another drink. Her stomach twists at the thought of swallowing it, but it was better than letting the feeling overcome her entirely.
It was just enough distraction to prevent her from begging the Bartender for another packet.
<<Keep it together, Myitt,>> warns her host Tara, echoing Myitt's earlier command. <<Jesus, you can't fall apart on me like this.>>
"I am keeping it together," Myitt snarls at the bar counter, her hand spasmodically shifting the glass of liquor in her grip, sloshing it around but never spilling it. Her breath flows raggedly and she closes her eyes again. "****."
-
Merc sits back, finally allowing himself to relax again. Clearly, he took some sort of pleasure in royally pissing William off. "Well, first of all, it's pretty obvious she's underage. Dunno how things are where you're from, but hitting on teenagers is something of a faux pas in most cultures. Second . . ." he holds up two fingers. "I've had to deal with a perverted douchebag before. Almost made my wife jump off the building of a casino - actually, that's how I met her - but the point is, I took it upon myself to, well, take care of him." A coy smile creeps its way across Merc's face. "Third, and most importantly, you annoy me, and the look on your face was absolutely perfect." He starts chuckling during the last part of the sentence, and can't help himself from indulging in laughter for a good few seconds.
Merc quickly abandons this jovial demeanor, though. "But let's get one thing straight. I don't care what you say for the most part. Insult me? Fine, I can deal. Mess with anyone else here? Whatever, not my problem. But DON'T do anything that would piss Dani off, capisce? Seems like you've been with a fair share of women; I'm sure you can figure it out. Otherwise . . . " he jerks his head toward Verdana. "You're gonna end up looking a lot like our skeleton friend over there. Got it?"
-
Ossanlin looks back at Dalik. <I'm not a traitor. Quite the contrary, in point of fact. I'm a decorated War-Prince and captain of the Mark III Dome Ship Tyrennian. Funny thing about propaganda...if you know enough to rise above it, you can use it to your advantage. You see, the People consider me a hero on the homeworld. Some very influential people have used my military success to elevate my status to the "face of the Grand Andalite Navy.">
Ossanlin swirls the liquid in his bowl, sipping at it more slowly now. <This status, ironically, protects me. I've run operations with the rebels on multiple occasions. They restrict knowledge of my work with the rebels to preserve my iconic image. They justify my actions to the government by reporting them as "reconnaissance." As long as I continue to feed them irrelevant data regarding the rebels, they will continue to allow me to work with them with no repercussions. Once I'm no longer so useful, they may cast me into the jaws of yaolin...but for now, I'm simply too important to their propaganda campaign.> He shrugs his shoulders in a human demonstration of indifference, smiling a bit with his eyes.
-
Verdana tried to look as adorable as possible at the thought of William being made to look like him. Ignoring the implications of actually stripping a Human down to his skeleton. Human's didn't fare too well when they lost a good portion of their physical matter.
-
William's eyes narrow slightly, cheeks flushing as Mercer laughs. "She's at least fifteen," he surmises, sizing Dalik up despite the scowl he earns. "What on Earth do you mean, 'underage'? The brothels begin hiring them as young as thirteen. Some go down to eleven, God help them." He makes a face, indicating his opinions about that particular practice. "And if they're wealthy enough they're married off around the same age. For all I know, she's been promised, bedded, and bred."
Dalik breaks off from her conversation with Ossanlin, giving William a sharp glare. "I have not been any of those things, and if you continue talking about my host like that I'll watch you die slowly." Her lip twitches into a scowl.
William purses his lips, then tips an imaginary hat. "Yes ma'am," he says formally, with only a hint of mockery in his tone. "Forgive me."
Rolling his eyes a little, he turns back to Mercer. "Well, then," he says flatly, brushing at his damp britches. "Seeing as the lady is off limits, perhaps you'd be willing to indulge me instead?" His eyes trail down Mercer's body, considering him. "You seem as though you could use some loosening up."
Dalik turns back to Ossanlin, turning her chair so her back is effectively to William and she is facing the Andalite entirely.
"So you are a traitor, but you're being protected from being billed as such," Dalik summarizes. "The people engineering the war's image found you to be their tool and decided to keep you around." She nods. "It makes sense. "You use one another, and so long as you each serve a purpose life is able to go on."
She lifts her lemonade to her lips, taking a small sip as she gathers her thoughts. "Funny, I always knew the Andalites were manipulative, but I never thought to consider how they manipulated one another. Foolish of me, I suppose." Setting her glass on the table, she gives a brisk smile. "Well, if I'm being completely honest, I'm relatively shocked to have endured your presence without being decapitated. If you truly are supportive of helping my people find peace and freedom from our pools, then I would certainly be interested in getting to know you better." She hesitates, then sticks out her right hand in a very human offer for a handshake.
"It's good to make your acquaintance, Andalite," she says, trying not to look too anxious about offering a limb to a creature with multiple blades on hand. "Officially, and presumably as allies."
-
Merc's eyes widen in surprise as he slowly turns his head toward William. "The hell?" he mutters, trying to process what was just requested of him. He chokes out a harsh laugh, not quite sure what to make of the situation. "Okay, that was just about the last thing I expected you to say, for so many reasons." He runs a hand down his face trying to regain his composure. "Yeah, I don't think I'm interested, but, uh, thanks, I guess?" He shakes his head and looks down at the floor, trying to conceal his amused grin. "Alright, I guess you're from a really different time or culture or whatever from my own. I can't fault you for that. Sorry about the whole fire-arm thing - I guess it was a bit overkill." I really need to get back home. I'm almost starting to like this place. . . .
-
It's William's turn to bark a laugh, his smirk broadening into a full-out grin. "And you, my friend, should see the look on your face," he says pertly. "Fair is fair, hm?" Dragging his chair back to the table, he sets his tankard down. "Besides, threatening to turn me into a torch is hardly the way to repay someone for buying them a drink, hm?"
-
Ossanlin arches an eyebrow at Dalik's abrupt change of demeanor. <Label me what you will. I love my People and my Homeworld. I only want for their collective good...but I'm a warrior of all peoples.>
He shakes his head. <Why do you think the Andalite collective hatred of Yeerks is so strong? Propaganda is nearly the pinnacle of manipulation. The government alters or withholds reports while sensationalizing others in order to control the public opinion.>
Ossanlin regards the hand held out in front of Dalik. <As long as that liberation doesn't involve the death or enslavement of others.> He brings his many-fingered hand forward and grasps Dalik's in the human gesture.
-
Myitt is exhausted by this point, and she slouches at the counter, swaying a little.
"Bartender," she croaks. "Can I just get a glass of water? Clean." She takes the glass gratefully.
Over the rim of the glass of water, her gaze shifts to the handshake between Dalik and Ossanlin, clarity winning out in her dark eyes.
She licks her lips and sets the glass down, murmuring, "So that's what you've been up to all this time, Dalik the Prime?" Myitt grins a little. "Peace and freedom. It sounds very noble of you. I don't suppose that's the reason why the Empire - and your brother - thinks you're dead?"
-
Dalik squeezes Ossanlin's hand gently, then withdraws it, fighting the urge to grimace and wipe her hand on her pants.
"It doesn't take many generations for propaganda to become truth," Dalik says instead. "I wasn't born on the Homeworld. The war had been underway for years when I went through my training. My brothers and cousins absorbed it as reality. Truth."
Lifting her hand, she tugs at the end of one brown braid, eyebrows furrowed. "It took me an obscene amount of time to convince even my own twin to defect, even when I am the Prime. Even when I showed him the corruption of the Empire."
She drops her braid, continuing, "Every transmission I've intercepted from the Andalites is the same story, just with different players. How many of your young warriors, how many of your citizens, consider the propaganda truth? Why shouldn't I believe their hatred for my people is unanimous, after all these years?"
Turning her head to Myitt, she gives a sharp laugh. "**** peace," she says bluntly. "I joined the Peace Movement initially because it was the only semblance of resistance I could get my hands on without dragging Cameron away from her family. They're idealists, and they won't win this war. Peace will never win a war." Her lip twitches.
-
"And just how exactly do you plan on winning?" Myitt asks. "You're a one man army?"
-
Dalik shrugs. "I won't win this war by myself," she admits. "But I can cause damage. I'm incredibly good with computers. There's a lot you can do when you're able to remotely take control of a Blade Ship's navigation panel, or the environmental controls of their main pool."
-
"Even with their security protocols?" Myitt considers Dalik curiously. "That is impressive. And you, what, live on the fringes? Surely you trade for supplies."
She takes a sip of water. "I'm surprised the rebellion hasn't heard of your continued existence."
-
<Because you, of all people Dalik, should know that no race is completely homogeneous. The majority of my people may think that Yeerks as a race are a scourge, a blight on the galaxy that needs must be stamped out of existence...just as the majority of your people believe that subjecting unwilling hosts into the yaolin of enslavement for personal gain is not only acceptable, but is the natural order. But there are those of you who do NOT feel that way, just as there are those of US who can see that you're just people too, and that some of you are not only reasonable, but are downright ethical...at least insofar as where it counts.> Ossanlin withdraws his hand, smiling a bit with his eyes.
-
"Of course you haven't heard of me," Dalik says, waving a dismissive hand in Myitt's direction. "I didn't want you to. I tried working with rebels once. It didn't go well. The Empire, the rebellion, the Peace Movement. Everyone thinks I'm dead, and that's the way I prefer it." She rolls her eyes to the ceiling.
She turns back to Ossanlin and nods. "Of course. But experience has taught me that just because there are those who think differently, it's not wise to assume every Andalite you pass in a bar belongs to that group." She arches an eyebrow. "What are the odds that the first Andalite I meet, out of your entire military, happens to be sympathetic to Yeerks?"
-
<Well, given the location, and the statistics at this location, I'd have to say the odds were quite high. Very few Andalites come here, but out of those whom I've encountered, the vast majority have been sympathetic, or at least open to becoming sympathetic.> Ossanlin shrugs his humanoid shoulders. <Unless you happen to frequent other locations where you might come into contact with my people?> He glances at Dalik questioningly, assuming he already knows the answer.
-
"Surely your brother would have known whether or not you're alive," Myitt protests. "And Dalik the Lesser lived with us. He thought you were dead." She purses her lips in amusement. "You really are a magician. That, or you work closely with an identity tactician."
-
Dalik shakes her head. "I had no idea this place, or anything like it, existed until I arrived here," she says. Nodding to Myitt, she adds, "It was my brother who gave me these coordinates, though I was indeed acting under a pseudonym. He's presumed me dead for the better part of six Earth years. If I told him who I really was he would have suspected a trap."
She leans forward, finishing off her lemonade. "I know my brother lived with you. That's why I reached out to him, once I learned of his escape. If he finally grew the balls to truly defect from the Empire, then I want to reconnect." Sitting back, she rolls her eyes. "And to keep him from doing anything stupider than he's done already."
-
Myitt laughs cynically. "Well, we can agree on our assessment of your brother's actions, at this juncture, at least."
She cranes her neck to look back at the door. "You're expecting to meet him here? Ah, you know, the little ****er sort of screwed us over. Do I have permission to **** him up a little? Nothing permanent." Myitt grins at Dalik, cracking her knuckles in an absent way.
-
Dalik's eyebrows lift. "Elran," she recalls, eyes narrowing. "When you first learned my name you asked about him." Her eyes narrow. "What, by the Kandrona, did my brother get himself messed up with?"
As an afterthought, she says, "No, if anyone has words with him it will be me. He needs to learn." Biting her lip, she considers. "Do you know of a rebel by the name of Keslin Five-Seven-Four? He's nomadic, not involved with your headquarters, but I'm sure you're aware of his existence."
-
Myitt is about to respond, but the mention of Keslin redirects her thoughts.
"Yeah, I know Keslin," she says quietly, looking back at the counter. "He's a friend of mine."
-
Dalik nods. "I was thinking of perhaps sending my brother to help him," she confides. "If anyone can keep him in line, it's Keslin." Her lips quirk upward in a troubled smile. "Of course his methodology is questionable, but...what else am I supposed to do? I'm not going to babysit him and he can't be running around the galaxy, modifying everyone's memories. I head about what happened on that Blade Ship."
-
"That Blade Ship was run by a brother of mine," Myitt says darkly. "Look, I don't know what you've heard about Keslin, but I don't think he can help Dalik, either."
She shivers a little. "I don't think--" The shift in control is abrupt and dramatic. Myitt simply stops talking, the words frozen in her throat, and then she slides nerveless from her seat and onto the floor. She takes the bar stool with her.
-
Dalik's eyes widen, and she lurches from her seat to try and catch Myitt. It's too little, too late, and the best she can do is get one arm beneath her head, preventing it from cracking against the wooden floor.
"Are you okay?" she breathes, shifting onto her knees, watching Myitt's face anxiously.
-
Her arms and legs are quivering, but she's remarkably calm when she says, "Y-You know, she's been holding herself together for a l-lot longer than I thought she would."
-
Dalik's eyes widen, and she recoils as she realizes it is the rebel's host speaking. For a moment she is silent, taking in Myitt's trembling form.
"The oatmeal," she finally says, voice reproachful. "Of course. Serves you right for actually using that barbaric substance. How much did you have, anyway?"
-
The human smiles sheepishly. "She had like...an entire packet. Haven't had that much in a l-long time. Very long time. Sh-she's an idiot, I totally agree."
-
Jeffrey chuckles a bit, after listening to the strange conversation between the Yeerk and the Andalite. Two species who loathe one another, each species with their own perspective on the war, and on these grand events--- And two powerful outliers, one the face of a much stronger "Guardian Council" and "Paragon Corps," and the other the species equivalent of a hacker with a grudge against all. Jeffrey watches Ossanlin's demonstration, and his eyes narrow and his blood seems to boil inside him, watching Ossanlin do things that he will never be able to do, not even if he was able to get ahold of the boosters that he was gunning for before his death. So. You're a Chronos, are you? At least in part. What I would give for that trick. What I would give to Turn. Back. Tme.
Jeffrey finally looks at Ossanlin and shakes his head, saying, "You've got it all backwards. How can you even be capable of changing the face of an entire war and yet you do nothing." The final word in that sentence seems to shake and is weighed down with a poisonous, surprising malice, almost like he was attaching immorality to the statement. "That is what is immoral to me. That is what is ****ed!"
The rippling effect and ringing sound around Jeffrey grows, and his eyes turn stark yellow. "Now...I have no investment in all this." He shrugs. "I'm not a part of this war at all. I don't think you should go back and time and murder a whole race of people, some of them innocent and kind and trapped with a toxic ideology. But I know that if I had the power to save innocent lives, to change the course of history so that fewer good people died,, I would be whatever I had to be, and do whatever I had to do, to make that happen. I would find a way, even if that means I don't look so hot in other people's eyes."
"And that...." There was an image, as if he were unable to repress it, of a man wearing a grinning gold mask and dressed in outlandish clothes, sent mainly to Ossanlin. "...is exactly what I have done. And if I let myself die, I will never finish it."
-
Dalik watches the human warily, sitting back on her knees. She seems to unsure how -- or whether -- to respond to Myitt's host. Luckily Jeffrey's commentary saves her from deciding.
She lifts her head, blinking as the faintest impression of an absurd image flickers through her mind. <<Now isn't the time,>> she chastises her host before speaking. "I would be inclined to agree, if Ossanlin weren't fighting for the opposite side of this war," she admits. "He's right, if I understand the implications of time travel." She laughs a little at the absurdity of that statement. As if anyone could ever fully understand. "If he were to go back and change things it would likely have one of two outcomes. My entire species would cease to exist, or we would be condemned to backwater pools. I certainly would cease to exist either way. And I'm rather fond of existing, thank you."
Her gaze turns back to the human woman and she frowns. "Can you stand, human?" she finally asks, speaking in staccato, rigid tones. She almost sounds afraid.
-
"Mmhmm," says the human woman, though from the look on her face she isn't entirely sure. She shakily presses her hands against the dusty wooden floor, and slowly pushes herself to her feet. She has to use one of the standing bar stools to achieve her goal, but she doesn't fall again.
"Yeah," she exhales. "That wasn't so bad."
In all the inner turmoil she dismisses the random flicker of imagery, a man in a mask, as some relic of her semi-scrambled brain.
-
"Fair enough," Merc says to William, nodding slightly. "Look, I'm sorry, man. I'm just an idiot, and I think this should be obvious at this point. Plus, all of this is a lot to swallow. My head's spinning just trying to understand a sliver of any of it. But anyway, if you can look past that, I can look past most anything, myself." He stands up and extends a hand toward William. "We cool?"
-
Dalik also rises, rocking back onto her heels and slowly standing. "She should rest," Dalik advises, eyes flickering to the woman's forehead. "I'm happy to resume our conversation later."
Then she steps back and returns to her seat, wrapping her hands around the empty glass of lemonade and frowning down at the table. She doesn't say another word to the human, clearly troubled.
William's eyebrow quirks. "We...cool?" he echoes. His eyes dip to Mercer's arm suspiciously. "Given your earlier show, I'd say you're quite warm, actually." He reluctantly takes the offered hand. "Are you still trying to understand this place?" His teeth flash in a smile. "Why do you think I keep buying people drinks? I learned long ago that it's better to accept whatever misshapen reality is thrown at you and drown it in a sea of ale and liquor. Makes things more fun, at least."
-
"Jesus Christ, Myitt, I told you to watch the booze," the woman hisses, closing her eyes briefly as she steadies herself at the bar counter.
Without fanfare she picks up the fallen bar stool and sits back down. "Bartender, can I get a burger? Just put it on the tab." She holds her head in her hands, resting her elbows on the counter, and ignores everyone around her.
-
Merc smiles before withdrawing his hand. "Great, you're getting in on the puns, too," he says lightheartedly. He returns to his seat. "The way I see it, the sooner I figure out what the hell is going on here, the sooner I can get the hell out of here and get back home. I got things to take care of, and being trapped in some 'space-time anomaly' - whatever that is - isn't helping things." He absentmindedly takes out his wallet and notices that there was still some cash left inside - strange, considering he was sure he had spent the last of his money. Even more so when he realizes he had no real reason to check his wallet. "Weird . . ." he mumbles. He doesn't linger on this for long, instead opting to slide the bills across the counter and order a White Russian.
"Besides, I really can't get drunk anyway, remember?" He taps his neck. "Weird fuel reserve thing. Hell if even I know what it is, honestly." He pauses for a moment to listen in to the other conversations in the bar, which are still making no sense to him. "What's your story, anyway?" he asks, returning his attention to William. "Seems like we all have one here."
-
Ossanlin's main eyes lock onto Jeffry as the man speaks, his words ruthlessly shoving their way into his mind like some strange mix of audible sound and thought-speech...except more invasive. He resists his urge to recoil, his face a mask of calm. He listens to Jeffry's tirade, feeling himself swayed toward the human-derivative's point of view. Of course he should do whatever he had to to save lives...end the war.
After a moment he gives himself a shake and narrows his eyes, the strange, musical fog clearing from his mind with effort. <Interesting ability...I admit I did not respect its breadth until now.> He pauses before continuing. <So..you can see the future then? You know what is coming? Behind, the timestream is a single coil of reality...that which has come to pass. There are infinite timelines, but this one, the one we are in...it is easy to see...to pick out. Ahead, it fractures into infinite threads of light which weave together at the moment of the present. It is impossible to see what will happen. Impossible to predict. Cutting a thread of the current timestream...changi ng it, causes untold changes in its weave. Perhaps my actions would save good people, and perhaps it would end up causing the death of a million more. Perhaps they would save a planet, or perhaps they would destroy a star with inhabited worlds.> He shakes his head. <You think I fear what people will think about me? I command warriors. Send them to their deaths if absolutely necessary. I do what I must for the greater good, mind melter. The repercussions of my abilities are too great for me to abuse them for gains which I have arbitrarily cited as good. I respect my abilities, and their potentially vast consequences, Jeffry. As Dalik said, they are not a hammer, and I will not use them as such.>
-
"I doubt his trick is limited to such broad-spectrum changes," says Jeffrey, twitching and looking toward Dalek. He still hasn't settled down, his hands still shaking a bit and his eyes still glowing. He crosses the room and picks up his drink where He left it on the Bar, taking a long sip. "He can probably change it so that any event...any painful loss" And Jeffrey oh-so-dearly remembers his own. "...never happens." Jeffrey pauses. "...and I think that's what he said he did earlier, for his old buddy Myitt the rebel firestarter. He wouldn't have to wholesale butcher all you guys." Although I admit that would be fun! Billions of little t apeworms falling like dead bits of bird shot through the back of an airpla--- Ohgod. Jeffrey smiles for a moment as the thought crosses his mind, but then rubs his head, trying to stop himself from riding that gruesome train of thought. Come on. Sanity is important, self. People like it.
"Heh...no, I'm not a Precog," says Jeffrey, sighing. "I can't see the futures in the air. Although I used to date one, once. I still have no idea why she wanted to help me, but **** I can't imagine it was for me." Jeffrey laughed a bit, but then turned solemn. "It hurts, okay? It hurts that people like you can know the future, and can just decide who wins, and loses, and who suffers, and then you come to feel bad about using it for personal reasons, as if you still were allowed that when you could do something different. Either make a better world and let the wicked rot, use your power, make it shine...or don't...but going halfway like this, with guilt?....ugh." He then fell silent.
-
"My dad actually suffered from depression because a guy who couldn't feel empathy was messing with timelines. He was the only one who was really aware of it. Luckily he lost the ability. It's not gone, but the one who has it doesn't used it. Supposedly. I probably wouldn't know if she did."
-
Jeffrey blinks in surprise at Verdana's statenent. "Empathy, huh? ....interesting. That's..one of the things that's wrong with me, outside this Bar. I think the place is giving me a reprieve from the disease." Although not that much of one.
"Why could your Dad pick up on that?" Said Jeffrey casually. "Usually, only the Precogs can tell."
-
"He never really explained. Like I've mentioned, he's got some weird stuff in his house. Like a machine that can travel to different universes. Somehow he was able to retain memories, or had something that could do it. Maybe from before the first guy got his powers, because you can only reset time up to the point where you got the powers."
-
"Sounds like an accident waiting to happen, your Dad," says Jeffrey, chuckling. "And like you've been on a few jaunts on your short time on this Earth. Consider yourself lucky that..." Jeffrey turns to Verdana with an odd smile. "......other possibilities seem open to you, Skeleton Dance."
"With that said, there'a a whole multiverse of opportunities to chew the fat in here, so....anything you want to know about my end, I'll tell you."
-
"They say that the more you kill, the more detached you get from other people, and the easier it gets to kill again. Until eventually you can talk about it so casually that it seems....normal? I guess it's a Human thing, but it's not something Monsters are entirely comfortable with. So I've been tuning out some of the talk here. It's kind of depressing. I wonder how many times it took before it stopped bothering you so much?"
-
William shrugs, his hand going back to the tankard in front of him. "That all depends on which part of my story you want," he points out. "I'm a good, oh," he clucks his tongue, considering, "seventy-five years old now? That's a lot of story." He grins. "Though not nearly as much as some of the others."
He pauses to take a sip of ale. "Of course, if you're wanting to know how I arrived here, I'm afraid that's a bit of a mystery. My ship was caught in a storm off the coast of Maine." His lips twist into a scowl. "I liked that ship. Anyhow, I remember being knocked overboard. I must have blacked out, because the next thing I knew I was dry as a bone, lying in the dirt out there." He waves vaguely at the door.
Dalik's expression sours as she listens to Jefrey and Ossanlin speak. She doesn't participate, though, just watching the leftover ice melt within her glass. Occassionally she glances at the bar, where the human woman is sitting, but she doesn't move.
<<He's not coming.>>
<<Be quiet,>> Dalik snaps. <<He's coming. And if he doesn't I'll find him and kill him for wasting my time.>> Her eyes flicker back to Myitt, remembering her threats. <<Perhaps it is best if he doesn't come.>>
-
The human woman drums her fingers on the bar counter, still waiting for her burger.
A loud, piercing screech resounds from somewhere behind the bar, presumably within the walk-in freezer - there's a big, metal door at one end of the bar.
The bartender is nowhere to be seen. The screeching cuts off abruptly; it's something like the cry of a bird and the throaty bass of a mother crocodile.
Myitt's host pays it no mind, and only sighs, shifting her head to her other arm.
-
"Kid, it's not the killing so much as the Esper Backfire Syndrome--- I'm literally caring less about other people as I go," says Jeffrey, idly drumming his fingers on the table. "If I had to pinpoint some kind of exact time I got too cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, I'd say it was...."
Jeffrey appears to think on it, and then smiles jovially. "....I'd say three years ago kid! That's when the last of me went in the boats with the elv----"
Jeffrey hears the screeching and turns his head to Myitt. He throws up an arm. "...the hell did you order, woman?"
-
"I've heard of keeping your meat fresh, but that's going overboard."
-
"Seventy-five?" Merc says, raising an eyebrow. "You don't look it, that's for sure." He drums his fingers on the bar for a moment. "I think you said something earlier about being dead? Definitely in line with what you just said. I don't think it's particularly easy to survive a shipwreck like that. Jeffrey was convinced he was dead, too." He glances over at Ossanlin, Dalik and Myitt. "They all seemed to come here of their own devices. And I guess Verdana got here by some sort of freak technological accident or . . . something. As for me, I'm pretty sure I'm not dead. That is, unless I somehow OD'd on pills." He seems to briefly consider this. "Actually, now that I think about it, I guess that's poss-"
Mercer's train of thought is promptly cut off by the sudden loud noise. Although it doesn't last long, it's more than enough to break Merc's focus. "What the hell was that!?"
-
William is about to answer Mercer, but the screeching noise makes him jump, head swiveling to the bar. He is silent for a beat, then says in a remarkably level voice, "I don't know, but let's hope it stays behind that door."
Clearing his throat, he takes another long drink of ale to settle his nerves. "I can't be dead. Not again. If I had died in the shipwreck I'd no longer be joined to this body. William would be gone, and I'd be back in the duhovni. Something else brought me here."
He grimaces as another screech comes from behind the door. "And if I'm not dead, it stands to reason you aren't either. Though I'm not entirely sure that status is going to last long in this place."
Dalik sits bolt upright at the screeching sound, her eyes going wide. She grasps at the Dracon holstered to her hip, sliding it free and standing at the same time. "What the dapsen hell is that?" she demands. She makes it over to the human woman in two steps, grabbing her by the shoulder roughly with her free hand. "What did you do, human?"
-
"Hey, will you get off me?" the human scowls, shaking free of Dalik's grasp. "I just ordered a--"
The door to the walk-in freezer bursts open, and one...two, three...five feathered creatures, about four feet tall and frostbitten, hop out into the area behind the bar counter.
One of them, black feathers raising in hackles, breath escaping in a cold burst from its nose, hops onto the counter itself. It shakes its head and purrs, inspecting the bar patrons with warm, golden eyes. Like an eagle's eyes.
Wicked claws tip its three fingered hands, which are partially obscured by red and black wings - wings that surely couldn't allow this creature to fly.
At the end of its long tail, more feathers spread out in a birdlike fan. And most notably, at the end of its clawed feet, the inner toe is retracted back and held off the ground.
It's a four foot tall reptilian eagle from hell, and it's cold, and it's confused, and the glossy black feathers are spattered with a shock of red blood.
The other four creatures, similar except in variations of raven black and a dull gray, start to fan out from behind the bar - crowding and snapping, jostling bottles and glasses in their haste to escape the walk-in freezer.
-
Verdana's eyes went black again. This could turn real bad real fast. He summoned a bone wall between the creatures, and his table. Also protecting anyone at his table.
"That's a lot of nope right there."
-
Jeffrey's jaw drops as soon as the creatures appear, darting their way delicately into the Bar, making bird-like chatter as they spread out from the freezer. At first, he can't do anything--- There doesn't seem to be a remotely logical response to this scenario available. But finally he draws a sharp-looking knife from his belt and holds it in front of himself, but doesn't move. He does get off his seat and position himself in front of it such that he's poised to throw the knife if they attack.
He looks from one Bar inhabitant to the other in utter confusion. "What...does anyone know what those things are?! We don't have too many animals in the Main Dome left! Pidgeons maybe, but that's not a ****ing pidgeon!"
-
Merc slowly puts up an open hand. "Dude, I have no ****ing clue," he says quietly. "They're not attacking or anything, but I don't think it's a good idea to provoke them or anything." Despite his attempts to keep a calm demeanor, his hand is shaking, every muscle in his body primed to retaliate should these beasts attack. "I think they might be just as freaked out as we are. . . ."
-
Jeffrey squirms but accepts the statement. He swallows, watching the creatures spread out and pitter-patter across the Bar like a pack of oddly coordinated wolves. One thing was certain--- These creatures were predators, and they were a team of hunters. So not morons. Any response would have to be instant to avoid getting killed. While his powers could disrupt humans, and apparently other sentient minds, they were essentially useless against non-sentients.
He glances toward Merc and nods grimly. "Yeah, yeah I got it, just..." He winces. "...ready, that's all. Yeah."
-
William jumps to his feet as well, his conversation with Mercer forgotten. Like Jeffrey, he procures a small knife, holding it protectively in front of him. "Some sort of giant chicken," he observes. "With teeth." His stance lowers slightly, and he backs up, putting Verdana's bone wall directly behind him. Protected from one side was better than none.
Dalik is close enough to the bar that when the creatures appear she stumbled back a step or two, eyes wide. Her weapon is still in one hand, and as the creatures begin to fan out she lifts it. For a moment she looks unsure where to focus her attention, but finally she chooses the big, dark creature closest to her and Myitt. Drawing a bead, she pulls the trigger.
Tseeew!
The discharge from the Dracon weapon is loud in the small bar, accompanied by a red beam of light, directed straight towards the animal.
-
The black feathered animal, on top of the bar counter, screeches as the bolt of energy hits her.
She is knocked backwards and topples, unconscious, onto the bar counter - taking a couple of empty glasses with her in her wake. The big feathered tail droops over the interior side of the bar counter.
"Jesus Christ," Myitt's host yelps, backpedaling away from the bar and patting her side for her own weapon.
The other four feathered animals do not respond lightly to their fallen pack-mate. Two of them snuffle the black one's feathers curiously, while the other two - a dark gray, smaller individual and a light gray, almost whitish larger one - hop up onto the counter itself. In a quick movement the larger light gray creature hops all the way onto the floor on the other side of the bar, where everyone is sitting.
Their attention is on Dalik, condensation from the sudden heat of the bar making their feathers and their leathery skin damp.
Still no sign of the bartender from within the half-opened freezer door.
-
"Dalik, get back behind the wall."
He threw a bone at the two creatures eyeballing Dalik, to distract them. They were more magical attacks than just pieces of bone, and would emit energy on contact. these particular attacks weren't really powerful.
-
"This is not gonna end well," Merc snarls, calmly standing up from his seat. For a brief moment, he strongly considers sitting right back down, despite how it was now obvious that these things are indeed hostile After all, this is Dalik's problem, not his. But after they're done with her, it most certainly will be my problem. "Hey, freaky ****in' chicken thing!" He grabs the first chair that his hands find and lifts it to his shoulder, the legs pointing upward. Considering the moisture covering the beasts, Merc is fairly certain that his pyrokinetic abilities would be next to useless. Brute force would have to be the way to go. With as much strength as he can muster from his less-than-impressive arms, he swings the chair at the dark gray creature on top of the bar.
-
The human woman raises her own Dracon, aiming at the darker gray animal on the counter.
"They're Velociraptor," she breathes. "I didn't think...I didn't..." She swallows and lifts the gun again, but doesn't fire.
The dark gray raptor eyeballs Merc, opening its mouth in a half-pant, half-snarl. It leaps.
Then the chair takes it in the torso, and the lithe animal emits a piercing call of pain.
It skitters to its feet on the floor, a few feet away, dazed.
This catches the attention of the remaining two raptors; they turn away from their fallen comrade and fan out.
The light one keeps its eyes on Dalik. Even though it is much shorter than Dalik's host, there is a serious sense that the animal could do some very serious, very swift damage to a bag of human guts.
-
"Awesome," Merc mumbles, only a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Dalik, you're free to shoot any time!" He takes a quick look around for more useful improvised weapons. Somehow, the White Russian he ordered didn't get knocked over in the fray. Is this gonna be enough to ignite? No time to consider. He turns around, a fireball having materialized in his hand. Without a second thought, he throws the drink, glass and all, toward the closest Velociraptor, quickly followed by the fireball.
-
Dalik's moment of victory is short-lived, and her skin blanches as the animals turn their full attention to her.
<<Dalik?>> The human's internal "voice" is scared. Her fear is making it difficult for Dalik to keep the weapon from shaking. Hell, her entire body is shaking and she stares down an animal straight from Cameron's nightmares.
The bright gleam of fire, followed by the glass being thrown, is enough to jerk her from her paralysis. She re-aims, this time at the lighter colored raptor eyeing her. With one thumb, she dials up the setting of her weapon as far as it will go. Then she pulls the trigger a second time.
Tseeww!
The sound is the same, but this time the beam of light is accompanied by a very palpable wave of heat, strong enough to melt metal into slag. It radiates outward, instantly raising the temperature of the bar.
-
Verdana summoned more bones from the floor to impede the raptor's movements. He didn't want them fanning out, and trying to flank anyone.
-
Jeffrey wasn't sure how to best accommodate what was happening, but he knew that being anywhere near the Bar was the wrong way to go! Jeffrey hastily skitterw away from the Bar, trying to stay out of what he presumes is the creature's line of sight.
Jeffrey glances nervously at Marc, showing a hint of concern as he creates a makeshift Molotov ****tail right then and there, but doesn't act. He waits to see if there is good timing for a well placed knife throw to the head for one of these monsters.
-
Dalik's beam hits the light gray animal, which promptly vanishes in a screech and a blast of unbearable heat.
Unfortunately the Dracon beam continues onward, slicing through a good third of the bar counter, exploding part of it into wood shrapnel and disintegrating the underlying third entirely.
Splinters and chunks of wood fling from the wreck of the bar, raining onto Myitt's host, who just barely has time to raise an arm to shield her face.
The bottle that Merc threw thunks against one of the raptors - one of the two standing near the raptor that collapsed onto the bar. It doesn't douse the animal in alcohol, but the fireball lights the creature up, and it screeches, running wildly for a moment, then darting for the front door.
Verdana's bone shielding effectively traps the raptor that was hit by the chair, though it snaps and snarls at the cage of bone, breaking off small chunks of the material.
Two raptors left - one unconscious on the bar counter, and another with reddish black feathers, backing away from the group with arms spread wide in a defensive stance.
-
"I think we may have the situation under control now. You stop gnawing on the bone cage. Bad reptile bird."
-
Jeffrey stares at the caged raptor nervously, and then waits out the time as the retreating raptor leaves the room. "I think we all need to have a long and complicated discussion about this later," he says, while shooting a dirty look at Myitt, "but for now, should we kill the dodo who's down on the Bar table? Cause let me tell you, we do not want that thing waking up on us!"
-
Myitt's host swallows hard. "I...I...****, I don't know!" she cries, backpedaling a couple steps more. "It's just an animal. Can't we stun it and...put it outside?" She winces.
The red-and-black animal continues its defensive display, but makes no move to pounce.
-
"Nothing should be killed, if it doesn't have to be. They are just animals, so we should get them outside. I'm sure they'll calm down later."
He started slowly mooving the cage towards the door, hoping the raptor would move with the cage.
-
As the bar explodes into wooden shrapnel, Dalik stumbles back, half ducking behind a chair. She gives the skeletal Verdana an incredulous look. "You're one to talk," she says, her laughter a little manic, coming from a place of sheer adrenaline. She dials back the weapon slightly. It's still plenty strong enough to kill, but not so strong that it will blow another hole in the bar.
"The girl is more interesting than I initially gave her credit for," William observes, watching Dalik as she swings her weapon to bear on the reddish raptor. He grimaces as another energy beam lances from the weapon. "What the devil is that thing?" he continues, looking down at his knife with a frown. His weapon of choice seems woefully inadequate.
Dalik lets out a quiet sigh of relief as the final free raptor disintegrates. She steps forward, poking the unconscious one with the butt of her gun. She's sweating from the heat of repeated Dracon shots, her dark hair stuck to the back of her neck. "Why, by the Kandrona, does this place have dapsen dinosaurs!?" she demands, looking at Myitt's host accusingly, as if the entire ordeal were her fault.
-
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Myitt's host replies shrilly.
The bartender finally reappears, setting a plate with a burger with tomato and lettuce on the bar counter.
-
Jeffrey holds up a finger. "Uh, what's a dinosaur? So far I'm seeing, yeah, terrifying bird monster helmaroc thing. If you have a plan for getting these things out of here, use it, for the love of Doc, quick!"
Urgency was about all he had in him at this point.
-
"All i can say is, that better be the best burger ever, given what we just went through to get it."
-
William glances at Jeffrey, then nods. "Yeah, we should definitely get rid of them. All of them." His gaze turns to Myitt's host, and he frowns at the burger. "Is that the same thing as that?" he demands, using his knife tip to point first at the burger and then at the unconscious raptor.
Dalik lets out a shaky exhale. "Would someone else mind taking care of the last two?" she asks flatly. "It's hot enough in here and the more I shoot the more uncomfortable it will get for all of us." She peers back at the unconscious raptor and reaches over, plucking a feather from its wing. She tucks it into her back pocket.
-
"A cheeseburger? Really?" Merc shakes his head. "The secrets of the universe had better be in between those buns, otherwise, I'll be seriously pissed." He stretches his right arm across his body, the joints audibly cracking. "Anyone else want to take those things out? I'm not very interested in setting this place on fire, and I have a feeling I'm gonna need to be conservative with my 'fuel,' in case we have any more nasty surprises like, well, THAT."
-
"I'll do it, I guess."
Verdana worked cautiosly at getting the raptors outside. He wasn't eager to do it, but one had already been killed for no good reason.
-
Ossanlin swivels his stalk eyes as the earth dinosaurs burst out of the back room. He sighs mentally, drinking from his bowl. One of the creatures skitters across the bar counter in front of him. He stares directly into its beady eyes with an impassive expression. The thing chitters a couple of times before snapping at him. He simply steps to the side, draws one of his katana in his left hand, and slashes it upward, catching the thing on the chin, slicing open its jaw. He casually swings his tail and bats the thing with the flat, sending it sprawling down the bar counter. He shakes the small amount of blood from his katana and sheathes it again, sidestepping back to his bowl as the others deal with the creatures in their own ways.
-
Jeffrey gives Ossanlin a quizzical look. "Used to this kind of thing, are ya? Figures--- This Bar gives me the heeby-jeebies." It seemed like everything was cooling off, for the most part, or at least that the other had it handled, and he was still curious about the blue deer.
"So," says Jeffrey, walking over to him and putting his hands in his vest pockets. "...you said if you got a moment you'd want to talk to me. Well..." Jeffrey gestures around him in a wave of his arms and grins. "...this is most definitely a moment. What do you want to know, tall blue and stiff?"
-
Ossanlin raises an eyebrow at Jeffry, not entirely sure he wants to speak with him anymore after the being's previous comments. He shrugs mentally before speaking up. <I was mainly curious about your abilities...I originally thought you to be human...your energy field is very similar to theirs. But then I detected your abilities. Not what you could do, precisely, just that you had some sort of exonatural capability. However, in my ascended state I could sense you much more clearly. I could sense the ability to compel minds, though the fact that I was forced to resist it gave me further insight into its nature. I sensed some of your overarching thoughts as well...nothing specific. Only the greatest constants, your moniker for example. Mind Melter. Those words are graven...etched so firmly into your mind and so profoundly that they came to me clear as Sky.>
He sips from his bowl, pausing, before moving on. <I also sensed some of the things you've done...dark things. Nebulous, but terrible and looming. Bespoken of atrocities. But by all means, give me...how do the humans say it? Give me your spin on things.>
* * *
A cloaked ship knifes its way into the atmosphere of the planetoid making very little disturbance. The ship is fighter-class and obviously designed for stealth and power. It makes its way to a small clearing in the forest, setting down with almost no noise or disturbance. The air seems to melt open as a ramp descends from the bottom of the ship. The being who steps off looks for all intents and purposes like a tall, but supremely aesthetic human...except for the pointed ears and silver-streaked intense blue eyes.
As his soft-leather boots touch the grass, the ramp sucks back up into his ship, all signs of the craft disappearing from sight. He checks his flex-armor, his fighting blades, and his Entroper pistol before engaging his active camouflage.
Rathien d'ilarianiil fen'Mirwindrierien or'Elienal sen'Ildiar had been here before. He'd chased Tobias here...Salem he went by now. Odd how he felt a sort of warm compassion whenever he thought about the being that for all intents and purposes was nothing more than a thorn in his side. He'd always worked alone, but working with Tobias...submitting to Tobias...had been surprisingly and exceedingly pleasurable. But things passed with time, and Tobias had left him on Sedneri 5 and disabled his flight tracker. Rathien had tried to contact him, but to no avail. Perhaps they'd meet again and perhaps not. Perhaps another would be able to subdue him...take him. The Ildari bites his lower lip, one of his fangs catching before he banishes the thought. This place always had interesting people. Perhaps one of them would be amenable to a bit of sparring...or a bit of dalliance. If he was lucky, both at the same time.
He leaps into the trees and runs swiftly through the branches making no noise as he quickly reaches the bar building. He disengages his active camo between two parked ships and walks the rest of the way to the swinging doors, pushing them open.
He glances around the room, noting mostly humans, perhaps Yeerk, perhaps not. Some of the patrons look...fun. He forces himself not to do a double-take at the strange dead and imprisoned animals, or at the animated skeleton child. He chuckles, running his tongue over his fangs in a predatory grin before padding softly into the bar, his black and silver waist-length cloak billowing noiselessly behind him. He takes a seat close to two of the male humans and smiles again, gesturing at the BT.
Almost immediately, the BT sets a fluted glass of Miruvin in front of him. He picks the flute up and swirls the silvery liquid around the glass before taking a deep drink. "Mmm...been too long." He nods again at the BT, leaning against the bar to take in the eye-candy around him.
-
Jeffrey smirked. "My spin,, huh? Well there's a complicated subject. The only nice thing--- Or maybe awful thing--- about being me is that nobody where I'm from gives a flying **** what I think of it. They just use me as a prop for whatever it is they want, by pointing to the craziest, nastiest person they can think of and saying 'Oh, my..." Jeffrey poses as if he were mock-disturbed or horrified, clasping his hands to his cheeks. "...at least I'm not Mind Melter! Dearie dearie dearie."
"Long story short, Derek--- I mean fuzzball, why do I keep thinking you're Static?" He rubs his forehead, trying to drown the thought out, and then continues. "I'm the Supervillain head of a Villain organization called Draconis Corporation. Mind Melter's my pseudonym, don't wear it out. Villains are common where I'm from, the tails side of the coin, the yin to Hero yang, the bad guys. We sell ourselves and our organizations--- We're personalities, I guess, that people consume. Maybe a little like you!"
"As for the show, the performance, the deaths and loss, the happy little Draconis employees..." Jeffrey sighed. "...partially it's in the job description, partially I'm just unlucky. My powers work better when people are compromised, you get me?" He starts counting down fingers on his hand. "drunk, wasted on drugs, injured, really unhappy, scared, angry. That's why I do it. You really got all that just from resonating with me?"
-
<Some things are much clearer than others. My abilities stem from another entity, so I have only a shadow of his power.> He furrows his brow. <My name is Ossanlin-Rethin-Sephirel. You may address me as Ossanlin, not 'fuzzball.'>
<You...commit crimes for fun...? Seriously?> He sips form his bowl, keeping his tone of voice calm.
-
Mercer finally sits down again once the Raptors are no longer a threat. He mumbles something to himself about wasting a perfectly good drink before asking the BT for another caucasian. "Lemme tell you, it can be a thrill," he says to Ossanlin. "Doing what the authorities say cou can't. Sort of flips the power dynamic around a bit. But my hooligan days are long over. Only laws I break are ones that I get paid for breaking."
As the newcomer enters, Merc's gaze lazily shifts toward him. "How's it going, buddy?" he says, picking up the drink that the bartender provided and taking a sip. He shoots a friendly, but otherwise distant smile toward the tall being. "I'm hoping you're not gonna try to rip my head off like those chickens from Hell, are you?"
-
Ossanlin glances at Mercer as he speaks. He shakes his head a bit, being an authority figure himself, and a military commander to boot. <I command a battle-ship with a crew of hundreds. If someone "flips the dynamic" by disobeying, people die, so you can understand why your statement rings hollow with me.>
* * *
Rathien glances at Mercer out of the corner of his eye, listening to his talk of breaking laws for fun, and for making money. He can't help but wonder if the man is in the same line of work as himself. After the human addresses him, he remains silent, still regarding him out of the corner of his eye for a few moments, his pointed ears seeming to twitch a bit, before swiveling on his stool to face him.
The Ildari smiles winningly, showing his long, curved, canine-like fangs. He has a slightly wild look about him, though his shoulder-length steel-blue hair is drawn neatly into a ponytail falling from the top of the back of his head, showing that he has the ability to restrain his wild side. "Well, that all depends on whether or not anyone is willing to pay for your head." He chuckles, showing that he's joking...maybe. "I'm doing well, all things considered." He looks Mercer up and down. Unless this human had any tricks up his sleeve, Rathien doubts he'd have what it would take to tame the feral elf...but the game could still be fun.
"Rathien d'ilarianiil fen'Mirwindrierien or'Elienal sen'Ildiar...pleased to make your acquaintance. Although a rugged mug of karraf like you can call me Rathien." His eyes almost seem to twinkle a bit as he continues to flash his winning smile. "In Common, that would translate as 'wolf of air'...or 'wolf of shadow'. Direct translations are hard to come by."
He glances at the caged animals, and the dead ones, nodding and chuckling. "You're right, this place is full of fun isn't it?" It's unclear as to whether or not the Ildari is joking.
"And you? Terran I assume? What's your name?" He extends his hand in the traditional human greeting, claws clearly visible and extending from the tips of his fingers where there would be fingernails in humans.
-
Now that everything was reasonably under control, Verdana had become more curious about the "chickens from hell". He'd never seen one before, and was examining it.
-
"In that case," Merc starts, staring at Ossanlin with steely eyes, "I hope things are different where you're from. Because where I'm from, the higher-ups only want one thing: to expand their own power and wealth. And how do they do that? By ****ing over the lower class, of course. People like this hombre right here. So it's my responsibility to mess with their power. Otherwise, more people are gonna end up exactly where I am - ripping off and killing people just to survive." He rests his elbow on the bar and extends two fingers toward the Andalite. "So if you aren't trying to screw the poor? Cool. But otherwise, I got no interest in talking to you." Even through his angry words, Merc manages to keep his composure - a far cry from what he demonstrated before.
Mercer takes Rathien's hand. "Name's Merc," he says. "Guessing you're not human, yourself?" he asks with a small chuckle, noting the claws and fangs. He almost reminded Merc of the old horror movies he would watch in high school . . . "And as for whether anyone wants my head? Well, I'm sure there's a few people, but I always seem to get theirs first."
-
Myitt's host edges closer to the bar, glancing at the unconscious raptors.
She hesitantly, slowly sits down.
Picks up the burger.
Takes a grateful bite.
-
Jeffrey shoots a look at Myitt and her burger that reads, "Yeah you'd better enjoy it---we went through a lot of trouble for that thing" and then continues. "I wouldn't say for fun so much as for profit, although I did try to make the live Base Attacks exciting for our viewing public!" Jeffrey grins again, remembering the one with the electric floors. Jeffrey's tech, "Auto"--- Sort of a joking homage to Jeffrey's old movie obsession there--- compensated for Jeffrey's lack of technical know-how, most of the time. "Basically..."
Jeffrey nods, settling on an explanation. "Superheroes and Supervillains are a lot like...What would happen if celebrities and corporate heads were the same people. We employ a huge number of people in the Underdome and own territories we fight over constantly down there. We cause chaos and commit crime in the Upperdome that entertains the Upperdome's viewing public--- Supers who don't play the Game. It's all played out on holoscreens for the whole world to see."
Jeffrey glances at Merc. "Heh. I was one of those people you seem intent on foiling, but with that saaiiidd...I didn't want the place to stay the way it was. Heroes maintain the world. Villains change it."
-
Ossanlin furrows his brow in confusion. <I'm sorry...you play games that involve death, destruction, and chaos...real death of real people for the purposes of entertainment?> Ossanlin has to work hard to keep the incredulity from creeping into his tone of thought. <I can think of nothing more ridiculous. Nor more disrespectful to life itself. I do hope you aren't from the same future as the earth in our universe...from those I've had interaction with, I had high hopes that humanity would evolve beyond its barbaric disrespect for life...obviously your earth has experienced a horrid regression.> Ossanlin shakes his head, glancing again at Mercer. <I fight for my People, and for all the Peoples of the Galaxy. I fight to preserve the lives and freedoms of all.>
* * *
Rathien grasps Mercer's hand firmly, allowing his claws to trail softly across the human's palm and fingers as they separate the handshake. "Ah, Merc. Short for mercenary perhaps? Sounds like you and I are in a similar line of work." He sips his strong, silvery liquor as he speaks, leaning sideways against the bar.
"Astute assessment, my good man. I'm Ildari. Or 'of Ildiar' if you prefer." He pauses again, giving the man another lingering look from shoulders to toes and back, his eyes lingering in certain places on Merc's body. "Are you saying you're not terran? You certainly look like you're from Earth. Got the right number of fingers and eyes. The right shape to your ears. I'm assuming you've got the right numbers of other things, though with that cumbersome clothing I can't tell for sure. I suppose you could pass for Cellorn, can't tell how many gonads you have." Rathien grins again, winking conspiratorially.
-
Merc nods in Ossanlin's direction. "I was hoping you'd say that. In that case, if you ask me, you're definitely one of the good guys."
He chuckles to himself, not quite sure what to make of this newcomer. "I assure you, I have the normal number of 'gonads' for a human. Not sure what all this Terran stuff is, though. Never heard that word before." He withdraws his hand, a little uncomfortable with Rathien's slightly-too-friendly handshake. "Actually, my name's short for Mercer, but nobody calls me that anymore. I don't know, maybe people started calling me Merc when I became a hired gun. Can't even remember at this point, to tell the truth." He shakes his head, a little annoyed at himself for rambling. "So, Ildari, you say? Guessing that's some other planet? Seems like we got a few aliens here," he says, waving his hand around the bar.
-
Rathien chuckles softly. "Terran is the common word for people of Earth. I'm surprised you wouldn't know...unless...did you not arrive here in a space-capable ship? I hear that happens from time to time." He glances at the region between Mercer's legs once more before returning his eyes to the human's face. "Well, one and two is more than enough for anyone, hmm?" He grins again.
"Hired gun you say. Definitely the same line of work then." Rathien pulls his Entroper and spins it around his finger before slapping it on the bar top. "Hunting prey can be extremely satisfying...especi ally when that prey can bite back, eh?"
"To me, you are the alien, my friend. The Galaxy is a rich and diverse place...rife with chaos and ripe hunting grounds for our kind." He winks again. "For my part, I'm unusual even to my own people. See, they consider me an evolutionary throwback. I'm too wild and predatory for them. They're all sophisticated and prissy now...there was a time when all of my people were like me. Now all they care about is reading their books and discussing how the calinfly is a metaphor for life and all that kind of crap." Rathien waves his free hand around in a mocking gesture. "None of them want to hunt anymore. So I left, and they certainly didn't shed any tears to be rid of me. Even my own family. It's just not good for politics, you see, when your eldest son is a 'feral.'" Rathien pounds the rest of his liquor and orders another.
-
Following Rathien's gaze, Merc looks away, blushing ever so slightly. "Yeah, I guess you could consider it a hunt. I think of it as more of a slog than anything. At the end of the day, killing is a paycheck for me, and I don't see it as much beyond that. In most cases, at least." He pushes his hair out of his face, slightly embarrassed by the creature in front of him. "But the rest of that . . . yeah, I can identify. Certainly something of an outcast, myself. 'Cept, that's more to do with being a lab freak than a crazy mofo." He looks at Rathien's face again with a small glint in his eye. "But I can definitely be a crazy mofo. These guys can attest to that. What are you drinking, anyway?"
-
Rathien grins at Merc's slight blush. Coy...embarrassed maybe, but not trying to kill him. Perhaps the man would be open to sparring, or more. The Ildari surreptitiously licks his lips, barely keeping the predatory gaze from his eyes. "Come now...the fun is in the hunt...stalking your prey...setting up the perfect kill. At least, for me, the money is more of a...bonus."
"Most of the universe hates our kind it seems. But..." He clasps his free hand over Merc's shoulder and squeezes a bit before moving it back to the bar. "...we outcasts can always stick together, yeah?"
He takes the new glass of liquor and swirls it before sipping lightly. He gestures the BT to place a flute of the stuff in front of Mercer. "This, my friend, is Miruvin, a liquor made by my people long ago to celebrate victorious hunts. You know, before they devolved." He chuckles at his own poor joke. "Be careful though, I've been told it's strong stuff to non-Ildari. Might knock you on your ass, and I can't promise I wouldn't take advantage of your unfortunate situation." He grins again, chuckling lightly.
-
Merc gives the Ildari a confused, nervous look. He didn't quite know how to react to someone coming on this strongly. Obviously, William had made an advance earlier, but that was very blunt and to the point - especially compared to Rathien's more subtle advances. Still, he had never been with anyone except Dani, and their relationship was nothing other than platonic. And this creature was male . . . at least seemed to be.
Merc pushes these thoughts out of his mind. This seemed more like Rathien was trying to push his buttons more than anything; a bluff he was more than willing to call. "Trust me, I can handle my liquor," Merc says before taking a small sip from the glass.
-
Rathien taps his bottom lip with his free index finger, watching closely as the human imbibes the clear, silvery liquor. "No fear then. Excellent. Although being a contract killer, I'd expect nothing less. Fear is a luxury we can't afford."
"You say you can be crazy, eh? Lab experiment? So you've been modified somehow I take it." He looks over the human again noting nothing terribly out of place. "I must say you look like a purebred human to me." He pauses, smirking a bit as he runs a hand over his Entroper pistol still laying on the bar counter. "What's your weapon of choice? Blades? Guns? You still using gas-explosion projectile weapons or have you moved onto something a little more...sophisticate d?"
-
"Modified is one way to put it," Merc says, swirling the liquid around the flute. "Long story short, I was homeless and needed some cash. Agreed to some weird experiment. ****ed with my head, too, and I'm still not sure I ever recovered from that." He downs the rest of the drink, nodding in approval. "Good stuff right there. Anyway, I used to use guns before then. Now . . ." Merc exhales sharply, a small jet of green flame erupting from his nose. "I got some real firepower." He leans closer to Rathien. "Funny thing is," he whispers, "it runs off ethanol. Alcohol. However you want to say it, I got enough in me to blow this ****ing place to kingdom come if I wanted to. And we're all damn lucky that I'm not interested in doing that."
-
Rathien's eyes light up at Merc's display. "Very nice! Seems my first glance underestimated you." He runs the finger over his lower lip...perhaps this human would be able to take him in a fight. "Can't say I have any innate power. Just my weapons...but..." He picks up his Entroper in one swift move and fires it straight up at the ceiling. The weapon hums as it fires and the shot hisses as it passes, followed by a trail of fire. No debris falls from the ceiling as everything in the shot's path seems to have disintegrated. "...this little puppy will take care of about anything. I call it an Entroper. See, the projectile works by breaking all compound chemical bonds in its path, which breaks everything but pure elements into baser elements and releases a fair amount of heat in the process." He grins wide.
"And if that's not enough..." He sets the Entroper down, oblivious to the ceiling healing itself shut, and grabs his fighting blades, drawing them while still seated on the stool. He flourishes one of them magnificently as he brings the other one down to rest on the stool between Merc's legs, tip first. "...I can get up close and personal." He smirks again, the flat part of the blade's edge barely rubbing against Merc's clothed 'region'. "Very personal."
-
"Holy ****," Merc utters. He slowly moves back in his seat, visibly uncomfortable with the blade being so dangerously close to his groin. This guy isn't playing around. "Look," he stammers, "I'm not exactly hurting for a fight here. Especially when, uh . . ." He pauses, trying to find the right words. "Y'know, I've said before that I'd put my balls on the line, but I never exactly meant that literally. Cool gun though," he says just a little too quickly. "Definitely never seen anything like that where I'm from."
-
Rathien pulls the blade back and sheathes them both, still grinning. "Well, we don't have to fight just this instant. There are other options after all." He winks at Merc again before picking his flute back up and sipping. "There are many things I might do to them, but you don't have to worry about me injuring them. I don't like dealing low blows..." he pauses, chuckling. "Well...you know what I mean. I'd never hurt a man's boys...just isn't fair play." He looks behind the bar, surreptitiously swirling his finger around in the flute and then bringing it to his mouth, stripping the liquor slowly off with his lips and then taking another sip before looking back at Merc, affecting ignorance to his actions.
"It is cool. Nothing compared to the rifle I keep stowed in my ship, but she's a lot easier to carry around, and she gets the job done. I save the rifle for those extra-special jobs." He smirks.
-
Merc holds up a shaky hand. "Hey man, I really can't tell if you're just messing around or what, but if you're not, I'm sorry, I really don't think I'm interested. It's a long story, and one that I don't even know if I want to get into." He sighs, wiping his forehead. The hell is going on? This guy is freaking me out, but something about him . . .
"But what do you mean, 'extra-special jobs?' People putting hits out on mastodons or something? Because far as I can tell, that pistol there looks like it can blow a hole through damn near anything."
-
Rathien smiles a bit. "Messing around? I think you'd know if I was messing around, terran." The Ildari takes another sip, still smiling and not giving Merc a straightforward answer. "I suppose I could if you really want me to..." He chuckles. "But that could get dangerous." He licks his lips, leaning against the bar counter again.
He waves his hand a bit dismissively. "Oh...the types of job where it might just be better to kill my target from ten kilometers away. Or just to add that special touch. See, the rifle has the ability to charge anti-protons into a contained blast. In essence, it can shoot a contained but rampant matter-antimatter explosion in a linear progression. The amount of destruction is...satisfying. Though perhaps not quite as satisfying as certain other activities."
-
"Okay," Merc mumbles, "I understood about half of that. Anti-protons, linear progression . . . yeah, you kind of lost me there." He twists his mouth into a half-smile, which is not exactly an easy task, considering his current discomfort. "But destruction? I think that got through well enough."
He sighs, tired of dancing around the topic that is obviously on Rathien's mind. "Alright. I'm just gonna make it clear right now. I'm really not interested in screwing. Sorry, but it's just not something I do. I would never bring the topic up around my wife - again, long story - so I wouldn't even know the first thing to do." He picks up the cigarette that was placed on the bar. Again, he didn't remember asking for one, but at this point, he's long past caring. "Hell, you're from a different planet. No offense, but I don't even know what, er, differences there would be between us."
-
Rathien only smiles a bit wider. "Screwing? That's an interesting word for it." He chuckles. "You terrans all seem to jump to the same conclusion. The dance is much like a hunt, dear Merc. Do I know I'm keeping you off-balance? Of course. But you have to admit that some part of you enjoys it. Somewhere, deep in that big brain, you like being off-kilter. Will it lead to where you went? I would be a liar if I didn't say that the idea entertains me, but that isn't always where it leads. But for the record..." Rathien arms his active camouflage and disappears from sight, silently moving next to Merc and whispering softly into his ear. "...if it did, you could pretend I'm not even there."
He runs a hand gently up and down Merc's spine for a brief moment before taking his seat again and disarming his active camo, leaning his head against his hand, elbow resting on the bar-top. "You may not know, but I do. Anatomically, we are the same." He shrugs, taking another sip of liquor, still wearing his winning grin.
"I suppose you wouldn't be familiar with the typical method in which a starship generates energy. Matter and anti-matter react explosively when they come into contact with each other. The energy release is enormous, larger than a..." He thinks for a moment. "Larger than a Hydrogen fusion bomb in equal fuel quantities. My rifle can cause a similar explosion, but contain and direct it in a cylindrical formation."
-
Merc shudders at Rathien's touch. He was confused, and as much as he'd hate to admit it, scared, but something about Rathien made Mercer want to pry into his head. He didn't seem to be antagonistic, but as he knew all too well, people can be masters of deception. "Nice trick," he says, regarding the camouflage. Why were words escaping him!? Was this guy just playing with him in his grief? No, of course not. There was no way he could know.
"So tell me," he finally says. "Why are you focusing on me here? There's a lot of other people in this room, and I don't think I'm very much of a looker, to be frank." He takes a look around the room, and at that moment he realizes that he had barely even noticed anyone else since he started talking to Rathien. "You practically admitted that you're toying with me. 'Keeping me off-balance,' or whatever. And I happen to be going through a lot right now. I'm not saying some part of me doesn't want to see where this is gonna go, but . . . ****, what am I saying!?"
-
Rathien smiles a bit more genuinely. "The truth? You spoke with me first, and jokingly. From there, overhearing your other conversations, I learned that you kill for pay, something that I also do. So we have that in common. And finally, you looked a tad lonely and forlorn. Hate to see sad faces at a bar, so i thought you could use a little cheering up."
"I'll admit, my company probably isn't the kind of company you want, especially since you had a wife, but I'm not the worst sort." He drinks his Miruvin deeply. "We're both outcasts. I'm all but banished from my planet. I don't really mind it, they're a bunch of stiffs. But not having a home to return to..." He lets the comment hang, getting a tad uncomfortable about himself. He'd thought he'd found a home again with Tobias, but he counted himself a fool for believing that even for a minute.
-
Mercer nods, every word that Rathien says hitting home. "I appreciate it," he says, still not entirely convinced that there's no ulterior motive. He momentarily brushes this notion aside as his own skepticism getting the better of him. "I already told everyone else here, but last night, my wife, Dani, was gunned down. When I got here, all I cared about was finding my way back home co I could find the bastard that did it." He sets the unlit cigarette down, no longer wanting it. "But you know what? I think we're kind of in the same boat there. If I do get back, then what? She's still gone, I have nobody to call a friend, and revenge would only satisfy me for a little while." He shakes his head. "Then what," he echoes bitterly.
Merc shivers, shaking himself out of his funk. "Sorry, got a little lost there. But you know what? You're probably the most genuine company I've had here so far, dead-ass serious. I don't feel like you're trying to bull**** me or anything, and I appreciate that."
-
"So recent...I can see why you might not appreciate my advances." He chuckles. "Even though I promise I'd be able take your mind off of it for a short while, given the opportunity. I know a few very enjoyable tricks..." He lets that suggestion hang a moment before shrugging.
"There's joy in the hunt and in the kill, but you'll need to hunt again and again to remain satisfied. In my experience, attachments hold you back...at least they've held me back." His mind wanders to Tobias shaking his head and telling himself once again that he wasn't upset about being dumped on a random planet. "Attachments can be used against you. Used to manipulate you or hurt you. They're a shackle that can only end in pain."
He places his free hand on the back of Mercer's, squeezing it supportively. "Glad to be of service, Merc. I find that honesty is often the most efficacious path to take. I reach my goals with it well." He pauses, sipping his flute once more. "Though that's not to say I haven't lied through my teeth in the past. I had a contract on a guy once...well, let's just say he thought I was a...well a male entertainer. That was a fun contract, in more ways than one."
-
Merc chuckles at the last part of the story. "I'm sure that was interesting, to say the least." He blushes slightly at the contact between Rathien's hand and his. Why the hell am I enjoying this? "But no, I can tell you're not lying. Part of being a con man is reading people, after all. And everyone else here is either lying through their teeth, hiding something, or is just freaky. Except maybe Jeffrey and Ossanlin." He gestures over to them with his head. "And Verdana over there, I suppose, but I can't get a read on him to save my life."
"As for attachments . . . well, I thought the same thing for the longest time. Then I met Dani. I'm not gonna bore you with the details, but she very well could have saved my life, and hell if I wasn't gonna repay her for that." He sighs, secretly savoring the contact with the Ildari. "Then again, look how that ended up."
-
Rathien chuckles richly. "You're saying you don't find the Andalite, as you put it, freaky? You, a terran who's apparently having his first non-terran encounter? You have a very broad perspective, my friend." He rubs his thumb gently along the back of Merc's fingers." He glances sidewise at the skeleton child thing and slides a bit closer to speak in a lower tone. "Really, you're having trouble reading the weird animated skeleton goat child? How could you possibly have any problems there?" He smirks sarcastically.
"I can't speak on attachments. Except those on the short-term. Every long-term relationship I've had, and I can tell you it hasn't been many, has ended up blowing up in my face somehow." He grimaces a bit. "When you let someone in, when you truly trust them, they can really hurt you. Granted in your case your wife wasn't trying to hurt you, but they used her to hurt you. In my case, I guess those I have long-term relationships with just don't seem to deserve my trust in the end. The leave or take off in the middle of a mission on some random gods-forsaken lump of rock in the middle of space..."
He sighs. "And I never hear from them again, though I suppose the original betrayal was the one that came from my parents and the rest of my race. So now I do what makes me happy, I suppose. The hunt." He continues to rub his thumb over Merc's fingers gently.
-
"Well, obviously, I've never seen anything like him before," Merc says. "Andalite, you said? But I don't know, he seems to me like a decent guy. Not actively trying to screw anyone's life up, at least."
He winces slightly when Rathien talks about his relationships. "That sounds rough, man. Seems like everyone's out to **** you over. But you really can't let a few bad experiences turn you off from others, you know?" He shakes his head. "Then again, I'm certainly one to speak.
-
"That's because everyone is. It's a lot easier to just be concerned about yourself." He takes another deep swig of his miruvin. "Watch out for number one and the rest be damned."
"I suppose...I've met him before. Idealistic and not nearly as prickish as the rest of his people. Most of 'em look down at you like you're not even worth stepping on. Real superior-like."
-
"Trust me, Ive met plenty of people like that. Elitist ****s." Merc gives a coy grin. "Makes my day to rob them ****ers blind."
"At this point, I'd say I'm on the same page when it comes to looking out for yourself." He sighs. "This is getting a little depressing, isn't it?"
-
"Well, I suppose it might be. But that's why we hang out together, huh? Make each others' lives a bit more bearable?" He runs his free hand a bit up Merc's arm and rests it a bit above his wrist, smiling. He takes another sip of liquor. "Surprises me you can handle this stuff so well." He chuckles, swirling his flute around.
-
"Well that sounds complicated!" says Jeffrey, grinning. "One minute you're calling your government a propaganda-filled hawkish nightmare and the next minute you're talking about defending freedom! God, you sound just like him really--- My archnemesis! No wonder I keep mistaking you two for one another! Anyway..." Jeffrey sighs."...I do it, and I'm good at it mind, but I wouldn't say I want to, exactly. My intention is to end, well...all of it. Personally."
Jeffrey glances over at Merc and Rathien, watching but not paying a spectacular amount of attention to either of them. "Huh. Well aren't those two getting friendly."
-
Merc's smile widens just a little bit. "Well, I'd like to say that I have some insane tolerance, but that would be a lie. The alcohol gets filtered out into this artificial bladder thing. Mostly, at least. Sometimes, a little bit gets through. . . ." He laughs again, barely even noticing Rathien's travelling hand. "Speaking of which, I should probably call that my last drink. Don't think I want to get totally ****ed up in a place like this." He quickly glances over to Myitt. "Just in case a Yeti comes out of the kitchen or some ****."
-
"Aww, poor guy...that's no fun." Rathien smiles, letting Merc know it's just a joke. "But I suppose..." He moves his free hand to pat Merc's thigh instead of his arm. "...that's the responsible thing to do. Me, I think I'll keep drinking. Makes the best lubricant, you know. Mental lubricant that is, doesn't do jack as an actual lubricant." He chuckles at his own poor joke, but doesn't remove his hand from Merc's thigh, keeping his touch light and steady so as not to alarm.
-
Ossanlin shakes his head at Jeffry. <You seem to think the government and the People are one and the same. Tell me, why can I not use the resources of a corrupt government to fight for the good of the Galaxy?>
-
Merc stares wide-eyed at the hand on his leg, but does nothing to remove it. "I must have had a bit too much if I'm actually going along with this," he mumbles, then quickly after realizes that he actually said that out loud. "Jesus Christ, it's been a long time since I've even been buzzed. You're right, that **** is strong." He shakes his head and lets an amused giggle pass through his lips. "You know what? Screw it. I might as well get ****faced."
-
Rathien grins wide. "Attaboy!" He chuckles and pounds the rest of his current flute, slapping it down on the bar counter. "Another round you freaky bastard!" He calls to the BT. He squeezes Merc's thigh, hand sliding up a bit higher, his fingers flirting with brushing into forbidden territory, but his fingers stay just far enough away from the area to be considered 'decent.' Doing his best to be light and playful.
The BT sets two more flutes in front of them and Rathien picks his up, taking a sip. "Lets drink our way out of our funk, eh? Forget the ****ty stuff for awhile."
-
Jeffrey shakes his head. "Ossanlin--- It doesn't work like that. Even you must know that. Sometimes what the government tells you to do gets clearly in the way of the greater good. Sometimes taking their money means siding with a policy you don't like, a policy you know is going to hurt people, and then shutting up about it. I'm sure you've done that plenty of times, by this point."
Jeffrey glances at the bartender, and says, "Lemonade, maybe? I don't need to be drunker."
He then says, "....but I don't doubt that you've done your best to use the blood money to save lives. Probably. You could use those magic powers of yours to save a lot more lives, but eh--- We know where you stand there. Anyway, how do you know the Yeerk? That seems to be a big part of why you and your government aren't identical. Bar conversation, you know."
-
"Sounds like a plan to me," Merc says, reaching for his own drink. In any normal circumstance, he would have shot down Rathien's advances immediately. But at this point in time, he wasn't about to protest. Just remember, nothing more than conversation. And drinking. Lots of drinking.
He takes a long sip of the liquor, feeling its effects almost immediately now. "Damn," he breathes, rubbing his head. "Probably gonna have a hell of a hangover if I keep this up." He turns back to Rathien, his facial expression having relaxed considerably. "So, what do you do when you're not 'on the hunt'? Any hobbies?"
-
<Except that it can. I'm in a very unique position, I don't think you completely understand.> Ossanlin shakes his head. <But I'm not going to debate semantics with you. Myitt once saved me from a fate worse than death. And in the ensuing years, from death itself more times than I can count.>
-
Rathien grins, running his tongue over one of his fangs, one of his only tells. A show of desire. He takes another drink and starts to feel the effects himself. It says something, considering he's built up quite the tolerance to the stuff. He laughs at Merc's comment about a hangover. "It's a pure spirit...you shouldn't have a hangover at all." He laughs again and suddenly moves his hand to cup Mercer in a less-than-decent area, squeezing a bit before moving his hand back to the safety of the human's thigh. "Sorry, just had to make sure you weren't a Cellorn." He guffaws loudly, drinking deep from his glass again.
-
"From Death itself, huh?" says Jeffrey with a contemplative, far-off smile on his face. "And from a fate worse than Death." Jeffrey grasps the lemonade without looking at it, as the Bartender passes it down to him. "A couple things I've seen probably qualify as that. Here and there. What happened to Dr. Death, maybe. But probably you mean loss of Will or slavery of some kind, because that's what most people mean. And she was probably a stranger at the time. A rare parasite who would do that!" And a rare person, besides.
-
Merc jumps back in his seat, shocked. "The ****!?" he yelps, more out of surprise than anything else. He starts laughing in turn, much like he did after scaring William. "Didn't think you would just cop a feel like that!" By this point, he had stopped caring whether the bar's other patrons could hear him. It had been a long time since he let himself lose control like this, either to a substance or another person. Whether or not it was for the better, he wasn't sure. "Y'know what? I don't even give a **** at this point. Cheers!" He lifts his flute above his head before pouring the rest of his drink down his throat.
-
Ossanlin drinks more from his bowl, looking up as one of the humans jumps a bit in his seat. Apparently he and the Ildari were enjoying themselves thoroughly. <Infestation, if you must know. A Yeerk who now holds a very high position in the Empire thanks to the intelligence he stole from my mind. Better the intel than a morph-capable body.> He grimaces a bit, the memory still clear in his mind. <They had to relocate their base to avoid Imperial wrath. And I felt the need to wash out the inside of my skull.>
-
Rathien pulls his hand away, thinking maybe he'd gone too far. He still can't help himself giving the hand a surreptitious lick before wiping it on his leg. Being somewhat animalistic, engaging his taste and olfactory senses went a long way for him. He laughs again as if it meant nothing. "Sorry, sorry. Seriously though, just had to be sure." He slaps the bar-counter, ordering another round of two, still swirling his current flute in his other hand, not yet empty.
-
"You're lucky, man. On a normal day, you'd be nothing but ashes by now." Merc shakes his head, still chuckling. "But you know what? I'm having fun." He takes a look behind the bar, enjoying the brief moment of silence. "Been too goddamn long since I actually enjoyed myself." He turns back to Rathien, smiling warmly. "Thanks."
-
"Oh come now, dear Merc. Give me a little credit. I wouldn't make it that easy for you. Though if you did manage to beat me...well, you'd have pick of any reward you wanted." He grins a bit devlishly, extending his tongue to lick the underside of his finger. "I'd hope you wouldn't burn poor little me to ashes. That'd be a real downer." He chuckles. "And a real waste of a reward."
He grins back. "My pleasure, Merc."
-
"Hey, now," Merc says, slurring ever-so-slightly. "Just 'cause I let that one slide doesn't mean I'd want that, er, 'reward'. I'm off-limits, my friend." He firmly grabs Rathien's arm. It was meant to be a friendly gesture, but one could easily interpret it as hostile. "Besides, only reason I let you do that was because you managed to get me a little buzzed. Okay, a lot buzzed. That's not easy to do, lemme tell you. So consider that your 'reward'."
-
Rathien grins as Merc grabs his arm. Oh...he could take it there...he wanted to take it there. But some part of him doesn't want to piss off his new friend...he'd not had such weaknesses before Tobias. "Limits...are meant to be broken. And you'd like the breaking, I assure you. So would I." Instead he opts to grab Merc's bum and give it a squeeze. As a result, he loses his balance on the stool. Damn...he was further gone than he'd thought. Time seems to slow as he falls from the stool, grabbing Merc wherever he can to try and keep himself from falling, but to no avail. He slips and thuds to the ground, still trying vainly to grab Merc for balance.
-
"God damn it," Merc says, trying to contain his cackling laughter. "That's what you get, you dumbass!" He reaches down to help Rathien to his feet. "Do that again, and you're ****ing done, you hear?" Of course, it would be hard to take Mercer seriously when he's still shaking from laughter.
He sits back down when he's sure that Rathien is back on his feet. He notices that the BT had placed another flute in front of him, which he grabs without hesitation. "Looks like this stuff might be a bit too strong for you. Wanna dial it back to a Smirnoff Ice or something?" Merc winks to punctuate this.
-
"It's not at all...I have supreme alcohol over my control. Been building up a resistance to this for years." He scoots his stool closer to Mercer, plopping down on it sideways. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." He says referring to the beverage name. He looks at Merc's bum again and ****s an eyebrow. "Well, if that's off-limits, you've got better places to grab." He chuckles and flexes his free hand as if demonstrating.
-
"Oh, don't even," Merc says, pointing a finger at Rathien. "And that's not a ****ing challenge!" Despite his better judgement, he takes another sip of his miruvin. "You never answered my question, by the way. What do you do when you're not carrying out a hit? Or groping strangers, for that matter?"
-
"What do I do? I come to places like this. And for your information, I only grope strangers I'm drawn to. Heheh...like a moth to a flame...or maybe more like a wolf to a campfire. Feel free to take out your revenge anytime, by the way." He smirks, a bit lopsidedly, but doesn't order another flute right away. He'd let himself go a lot further than he normally would already. "I guess I fly around the Galaxy, try to find what pleasure I can, be it the company of others, or a live show. Male, female...either way. I simply try to find as much enjoyment in life as I can. And the hunt? I enjoy it."
-
"Revenge? Nah, I'd say we're even now," Merc slurs. "I get groped, you fall out of your seat like a tool . . . fair is fair." He stands up slowly, both to stretch his legs and to test his balance. Feeling his legs begin to shake, he sits back down. "Nope, not a good idea, that." He tries to shake off the mild double vision, to no avail. "Christ, so this is what I've been missing out on. So, do you even know of any other places like this? One of these guys said something about it being a 'space-time anomaly', whatever that is. I have to imagine there's another spot like this somewhere, right?"
-
"Other watering-holes, yeah. But this place is...unique I guess. Sort of like, you can only find it if you already know where it is. Or, you know, some random force brings you here for no good reason." He smiles devlishly again. "And it's often harder to find...amicable...c ompany here than in most other places." He reaches up and drags a claw gently along Merc's jawline, smirking. "And perhaps it never comes to pass, but the chase is fun even if it turns out to be futile." He sticks his tongue out at Merc playfully, then shakes his head...strange how far the liquor had taken him. Perhaps it really had been too long and he was losing his tolerance.
-
"No ****, I can tell you're enjoying yourself. And honestly, I'd be lying if I said I'm not having fun." Merc finishes off the last of his drink. "Alright, that's the last one, for real this time." His eyes start to droop, but he snaps himself back to the conversation. "You know, I might be open to the idea of something further. . . ." Merc shakes his head, shocked at what he's even considering. "****, what am I even saying? I dunno, my head's a mess today. And the booze is definitely not helping."
-
"Oh? Opened your mind to some more possibilities have I?" He allows his hand to run down Merc's neck to his chest, ****ing an eyebrow, claws catching only slightly in the fabric of his shirt. "But what sort of a friend would I be if I took advantage of your...impairment?" He runs his hand down further past Merc's belly an onward, this time making no excuses or apologies for the hand resting between Merc's legs, wandering idly, feeling him up freely. "I did say you had better places to grab." He smirks, leaving his hand where it is, gauging the human's reaction.
-
"Hold on, I never said that was okay." Despite is protests, Merc offers no physical resistance. Whether he can't or simply won't isn't exactly clear. "I just said I'm open to the idea. Not an invitation to start feeling me up. You grab that, and . . ." He coughs into his arm, trying to hide the tiny smile creeping its way across his face. "Oh, who the hell am I kidding. I'm in no fit state to do anything right now."
-
"Well, we can only do so much in a public place after all, and neither of us can walk." He casually moves his hand back up to Merc's belly and allows his claws and fingertips to find their way underneath his waste-band. "Although I seem to remember them having a couple of back rooms here." He chuckles, leaving his hand in place again, but pushing no further. "Decorum might not be this place's hallmark, but there are children present. Even I'm not that lascivious." He pushes his fingertips a bit further down, aware that no one else can see underneath the bar from their various vantages, and grins evilly.
-
For his own part, Merc can do nothing but stare at Rathien. "Are you serious right now!?" he chokes out. He grabs Rathien's arm and pulls it back up. "Look, wait 'til we sober up enough to walk at least, alright? Maybe then. But right now, I'm way too ****ed up to even know what I'm doing."
-
Rathien chuckles and removes his hand completely. "As you desire, Merc." He finally orders another drink, a non-alcoholic one for his credit this time, one hand on the bar counter, the other scratching at his cheek. "I would've found it hard to take advantage of your state anyway, seeing as we've sort of become fast friends. Not to mention my own condition. I guess it's been too long since I've had Miruvin. Went a little overboard. Literally." He smirks again.
"I like to tease, and you make a good target for it." He injects as much humor into his voice as he can, letting the human know he's just giving him ****.
-
Merc smiles, finally able to calm down a little. "Yeah, maybe I walk into it a little bit. Trust me, if you overdo it, I'll let you know." Merc follows suit and orders himself a water. "Like I said, I'm having fun. And for some reason, I don't get any creepy vibes from you or anything. Like, I don't feel like you're gonna pull something that I'm obviously not cool with." He brushes his hair back, trying to maintain a sober appearance. "I'm getting sappy, aren't I? I'll shut up."
-
"Not so much that you walk into it, it's your reactions that make it priceless. Kinda cute, befuddled, thinking you want to stop me while also admitting that you kinda don't want to. Understanding that you're a bit curious...you want to know what it would be like. Ultimately at a loss for what to do or why." He chuckles. "For being a hired assassin, you have a charming naivete regarding certain things."
"You're not one of my marks, so I've no need to deceive you. It's much more fun for the both of us to make you actually want it." He grins again before shaking his head. "Rape is no fun at all. Sex is so much better when everyone's into it. And then there's the chase...the buildup, the excitement, culminating in passions running wild. I guess what I'm saying is it doesn't serve me any real purpose to do anything you don't want or like in some fashion...though making you realize you want something even in the face of personal denial is a true art." He smirks.
"No need to shut up, my friend. I consider our conversation to be especially stimulating."
-
"I think you hit that one on the head," Merc says, nodding. "Nothing you said there that isn't true. Truth is, I've always been curious, but I wasn't gonna pressure Dani into anything at all, and no way I'd betray her." He takes a sip of his water. "Now that she's gone, there really is nothing holding me back, is there? Maybe I should just go for it."
Merc rubs his ear before continuing. "Sorry, thinking out loud. I gotta say, even if I change my mind when I'm not quite as smashed, this was definitely eye-opening. I owe you for at least that."
-
Rathien shrugs and puts his hands palms up beside him in a 'it's what I do' gesture before returning them to the bar-counter. "I can always turn the heat back up if you start backing out. 'Course you can too." He chuckles. "Grief is something I choose not to feel. It just seems like there's no place for it in my life. So I'm not going to apologize for your loss." Rathien sips at his drink and shrugs. "**** happens to everyone, you either wallow or you move on. I'm not telling you to forget her. Just sayin' it ain't worth your time to wallow in self-pity. Find fun in life. Dump the grief. You think she'd want you to be all hung up? She'd want to you to grow, try new things, find happiness."
Rathien shakes his head ruefully. "Gods I really am drunk. This...this emotional pandering...it's not me. 'Least it didn't use to be."
-
"Infestation by one of these Yeerk-things then," says Jeffrey, nodding. Jeffrey raises an eyebrow. "Is it really that bad? I...guess it would be, if you entirely lost control of your body and were subjected to an alien creature wanting to effectively wipe out your whole freaking race. In my case..."
Jeffrey glances awkwardly over at Rathien and Merc for a second--- I mean what were those guys doing in the middle of the Bar?--- and then back toward Ossanlin. "...while I can't say that I've got the literal ability to enter a guy's brain, it's pretty damn hard to get me out of it nonetheless! My powers implant hypnotic suggestions into people's heads, among other things, and convince them to act in ways or believe things that they...probably wouldn't otherwise. It's not all for the greater good or anything, but I imagine that it probably saves as many lives as I waste. I said a while back that the Dome was overpopulated, and that's...no joke. You talk big about righteousness and how mankind's devolved in my future, but..."
Jeffrey's playful, almost lazy gaze turns surprisingly sharp. "What would you have us do, when only the Domes are habitable as far as we know, and there's only one Dome that has to feed all several hundred million of us at any given time? We literally haven't got enough to go around. People need jobs and resources and things to do, and while our national past-time may be cruel...It's damn effective for dealing with that problem. My goal is to ultimately end the system--- But to do that, quite a lot needs to happen."
-
"Maybe you're right, man. It's probably to move on." Merc rests his head in his palm. "But, god, it stings, you know? But I guess now's not the time to mourn." Merc moves to lower his hand to the bar, but instead decides to rest it on Rathien's thigh. Probably wasn't expecting that . . .
"And hey, that **** is strong," he says, referring to the liquor. "I don't blame you for getting emotional. Hell, I'm doing enough of that, myself." He smiles, rubbing his companion's leg. "Thanks for the drinks, by the way. I'm guessing you can't find that stuff anywhere on Earth?"
-
Ossanlin nods. <You're a prisoner in your own mind. You can see, hear, and feel everything that's going on around you. You simply have no motor control. You can't affect anything. You can't communicate. You watch as this parasite rips open your most private thoughts and memories, and peruses them as if reading a novel. You 'hear' thought-speech in your own voice deceiving your colleagues, your friends, your family. You just want to shout out, to warn them or let them know that you need help. But you can't. You simply can't. It's hard not to lose your mind. You can wail at them, push, shout...'scream' in your own mind and they just laugh. They shut you out of their mind. They can do that. They can keep you from invading their minds, but you cant stop them from invading yours.>
Ossanlin pauses, settling himself. He'd almost lost himself to ascension again. Apparently it could be triggered by strong emotions now. <It's called equilibrium. You produce no more than your environment can provide for. It's basic survival. If your people aren't intelligent enough to limit their production per their environment, having some sort of grotesque gladiatorial game does absolutely nothing to address the root of the problem. It's like continuously treating a disease with amputations when you could simply inoculate the population and get rid of said disease forever.>
* * *
"By my thinking, it's never time to mourn." Rathien smiles. "Remember her happily. You know, the good times and the good things. And don't cry over losing her, 'cause you had some good **** happen and nothing can take that away from you."
Rathien jumps a bit at the familiar contact from Merc. He raises his eyebrows and smiles, gently raking his claws over the back of Merc's hand. He grins up at Merc. "Well, seems like you're feeling better." He chuckles. "No, it's distilled and fermented from a mixture of fruits and herbs native to Ildiar. It used to be served in bowls, but as my race 'civilized', they began consuming it in much smaller quantities and now only drink it at celebrations. Thus it's become custom to drink it from flutes."
-
Jeffrey looks almost squeamish, or unnerved, as Ossanlin describes what it's like to be infested by one of these Yeerks. His blood runs a little cold inside him, and he nervously grips the table and adjusts his position. He remembers Dr. Death's child--- Vance--- Grinning psychotically as he gripped the knife and walked in a direction he should never go with one, and Jeffrey wonders how close he himself has come to that kind of violation of another. Having regrets was a ****, and Jeffrey tried to have as few as possible. Easy, when the EBS was active--- Hard, now.
"That sounds horrible, actually" admits Jeffrey, giving Ossanlin what passes for a sympathetic look. "If that's what you blue aliens are afraid of with the Yeerks, I don't envy you. And I literally brainwash people every damn day. I'm in a lot of people's flipping heads!"
"As for the Game...The root of the problem isn't a thing I can control," says Jeffrey. "I never had enough leverage to control Dome policy outside my territory. Maybe I could have had that in the future--- I had a plan---if I wasn't almost positive that the whole Dome thinks I'm dead. I was dead." That fact comes back to him again, suddenly. Rosie's sudden betrayal. The Bogey's black magic turning off all the lights across the Dome. The gunshot. "There was a bullet right through my brain. I guess..." Jeffrey has a sad smile. "...Auto runs Draconis now. And I doubt he'd change a thing. Raiden maybe, if he's still alive somehow, but I doubt he can outmaneuver the Technopath. ...I have no idea how to get back home."
-
Merc returns the smile. "Yeah, you have a point. No reason I should mope around and ****. Maybe that's not how most people would deal with it . . ." he scoffs at the words 'most people.' ". . . But y'know what? **** most people. I'm gonna do what's best for me. Always have, and I got no reason to change that."
He gives Rathien's leg a subtle rub. "Sounds to me like your people are a bunch of stuck-up idiots. Sort of like them rich ****s that walk around in suits and dresses, pretending they own the world. . . . I can't blame you at all for distancing yourself."
-
Ossanlin shrugs and nods. <As I said, worse than death.> He shakes his head. <It isn't for one singular person to change a world's ways. We may do what we can, but in the end, it's up to the people to understand and change.>
* * *
"They are who they've become. They have no respect for their own history, their own roots. Every generation there are a few of us born. Throwbacks they call us, simply because we appreciate our culture's past and enjoy what our entire race once did." Rathien scoffs. "If anything we should be looked at as the keepers of our history. Sought for wisdom...instead they treat us as gangrenous limbs. Reminders of a "savage" past of which they are ashamed." He shakes his head. "They won't change, and I've come to terms with that. I'm satisfied with my lot in life. Nothing to stop me from seeking those things which I desire." He smiles a little mischievously and continues to allow his claws to play gently over Merc's hand.
-
"One-track mind," Merc mumbles playfully. "But no, I get how you feel. If everyone treated me like **** just for doing what makes me happy, I don't think I'd like my 'people' very much, either. 'Cept, if it were me, I'd probably make it my life goal to waste every one of them." He gives Rathien's leg a gentle squeeze. "But what you chose is probably better, looking for fun in your own way and all that. Honestly, I kinda respect it."
-
"You know," says Tara - or Myitt - in a low drawl, glancing over at Jeffrey and Ossanlin. She wipes her hands on a napkin. "We're not all that bad. For parasites."
Then she giggles to herself, clearly back in control and feeling the ins and outs of oatmeal and alcohol, both competing to seize her sensibility.
-
Following their shaky truce, Dalik slides into the shadows again, returning to a ring of holoscreens that
Dalik shoots Ossanlin a sour look, eavesdropping on his conversation. "You're certainly making us look good," she says. "What Myitt said. We're not that terrible."
After the raptors fall, William inhales a deep, relieved breath. "Well, then," he murmurs. Sheathing his knife, he glances at Mercer and Jeffries. "I'm afraid I'll have to continue my story later. Right now, I think I need some air."
With a brisk smile, he steps around one of the fallen, battered chairs, pausing only to watch in fascination as it begins to repair itself. Then he shakes his head, torn between amusement and uneasiness, and steps into the hallway, toward the bathrooms.
He doesn't emerge for a long time. When he finally does reappear, it's through the front door. He looks as if he's washed his face, and his long, blonde hair has been freshly plaited. His breeches are the same, though it looks as if he's attempted to scrub away the beer stain.
His eyes survey the small crowd, almost immediately lighting on the one newcomer. An eyebrow quirks curiously, but he doesn't approach Rathien and Merc. Instead he goes to the bar, sitting near Tara and keeping one ear on their conversation.
-
"Really, then?" says Jeffrey, turning back to the two of them and raising an eyebrow. "The hacker and the drunk who orders fresh off the farm bird demons? You could've fooled me." Jeffrey smirks. "...Just joking. I'm sure those of you who don't subscribe to the whole owning people shtick are fine. Not that I can really complain--- I practically own people."
Jeffrey puts his hands behind his head and tries to relax. The raptors are gone, a relationship is blossoming before his very eyes, that weird grigori guy has come back in looking fresher than ever...Nothing bad is going to happen. Of course, he didn't see many options for something good happening either, or for finding an explanation.
-
Ossanlin nods a bit in response to Myitt and Dalik. <There are some who choose to form a symbiotic relationship with their host. Unfortunately there's no failsafe, it's all built on trust, and quite frankly, the host is the one who has to do all the trusting. Until the Yeerk disengages without locking the host into some sort of imprisoning device.> Ossanlin gestures at the two Yeerks. <You see, despite the utter control a Yeerk has over a host after infesting them, they are relatively weak and defenseless in their natural form.>
<Sadly those who choose not to abuse their power over hosts, infesting only the willing, are the vast minority. A race of trillions or more, and only a handful with scruples. But they represent the seed. The example that can grow. One day they could show their people that they do not have to be monsters in order to have eyes.> Ossanlin shakes his head a bit. Something was wrong with his connection to the Ellimist. His thought have started to grow slightly more abstract...likely the liquor has played a part in that as well. But he simply feels...wrong.
* * *
"Well, when you follow your base instincts, there are a few things that rocket right toward the top of the list. Not to mention I'm male, so you know....stereotypes ." Rathien grins and gently squeezes Merc's hand, sliding it up a bit higher on his thigh. "You tend to go for things, and not look back."
"As for my people, well, I'd like to think I'm above planetary genocide. Easier for me to just search for my pleasures elsewhere." He smirks.
-
Jeffrey starts his response with, "So basically, the tapeworms can't actually disengage, or at least it wouldn't matter if they did. There's no way to prevent them from lying about having full control, because it's all in the mind, yeah? But hey, if you're---"
Jeffrey twitches. He suddenly senses on some level that the blue deer is vulnerable--- It's probably the one thing his powers are good at detecting, precisely because he can feel less "resistance" when someone gets vulnerable. "...Hey. Uh, what's wrong? Are you feeling alright? Tell me if anything happened." The last statement was meant to be more felt than heard correctly, and he hopes his judgment on that one is accurate. He's not sure why he even cares how Ossanlin feels- Maybe it's just extreme curiosity. Everything about an alien that can change the past is weird and new to him.
-
<They can. They have to to feed once every three standard days. If the host is involuntary, they must have others restrain the host, or lock the host into an imprisonment device which holds them in a position that will allow them to reinfest.>
As he finishes, he hears Jeffry's request about his condition. <<I seem to be...losing control of my abilities.>> Why in Sky had he shared such a private detail with this individual? Jeffry's voice seemed to echo inside his head. <<I used too much changing the timeline, more than my mortal body could handle.>> He shakes his head again, looking straight at Jeffry, his main eyes narrowing. At least he'd kept it all in private thought-speech. But admitting weaknesses to a potential enemy was plain stupid.
-
Myitt snorts laughter, the quivering in her hands still notable.
"Yes, yes," she says gravely, taking a small sip of clean water. "We do have our weaknesses. But, ah, I wouldn't say that host sympathetic Yeerks are a vast minority, Ossy." She eyes Jeremy hesitantly, clenching and unclenching her fists to shake out the tremors. "There are plenty of us hippies out there. Heh heh." She grins.
-
Dalik glances at Myitt, frowning a little. Then she nods. "You've been listening to too much of your own propaganda, Ossanlin, if you believe the majority of Yeerks are abusive to their hosts."
She shakes her head. "First off, it's an absurd notion. Why would anyone want to share a head with someone who screams and carries on all day? It's incredibly distracting, not to mention depressing. True, the host has little say in their fate, but most of my people try to reach some sort of understanding with them." Her nose wrinkles as she turns to Jeffrey. "The Andalites would have you believe we whip our hosts like dogs and spend all day laughing as we replay their worst memories, forcing them to break to our wills."
Pushing away her empty lemonade glass, she waves a hand to push aside the holoscreens, evidently choosing to fully engage in the conversation. "The vast majority of Yeerks dread the day they are given a host. Huge quantities of us request pool-bound duties over infestation." She smiles, tilting her head at Ossanlin. "Did you know that? Most of my people would choose the pool over eyes any day. We are a peaceful race. The Empire is where the corruption lies."
William makes his way to the bar, but he doesn't order another ale. Instead, he slides his knife from his sheath, along with a small whetstone. Making no attempt to hide his eavesdropping, he settles onto a barstool, facing outward. His eyes flicker from the Andalite to the goat-like skeleton to the newcomer -- an enticingly feral looking creature speaking with Mercer.
"Gods this place is fascinating," he murmurs to himself, laughing quietly as he begins to sharpen his knife.
-
"Yeah," says Myitt in a wavering voice. She nods her chin at Dalik's young female host. "What he said."
She frowns at the bar counter, and hugs her arms, shivering.
-
"Uh oh, is that going to hurt the rest of us or just you?" says Jeffrey. "I mean this place is already weird enough as it is," says Jeffrey, rolling his eyes and taking another sip of his lemonade. He swirls the drink around in his mouth, enjoying the fresh flavor, before swallowing. He'd seen undeniable proof that the food was, frankly, a little too fresh. "We don't need your powers making it so that humans have always had five heads, or running the place backwards."
Jeffrey then listens to both Myitt and Dalik's assessment of the Yeerks, and compares them to Ossanlin's somewhat pessimistic description of the same race. Jeffrey smiles. "Sounds like you're both swimming in your own propaganda, and the drunk has it--- There's a good section of you that are host-sympathizers, and another section of you that are sorta friendly, but just can't shake the culture. You know what might be fun?" says Jeffrey, putting his hands behind his head laxadaisically.
"...if one of you got to see the inside of my head," says Jeffrey. "But you probably wouldn't risk that, eh? Then I could know for sure what it was like!" He giggles a bit.
-
Myitt eyes Jeffrey skeptically.
"I don't make a habit of infesting strangers like it's a party trick," she mutters. "But you'll have to take Dalik's word for it. And mine. In fact, some of us actually like our hosts. Maybe, you know, actually treat them like people."
She sips her water. "Or friends," she adds, inconsequentially. She raises an eyebrow at Jeffrey again.
-
"Maybe I'm just crazy, then. I always have been a vindictive bastard," Merc says with a wink. "Doesn't really matter. Probably not gonna find my way home anytime soon, and honestly, I don't even give a ****. This place is a million times more interesting."
"You know," he says after a short pause. "It just dawned on me that I have no idea why I'm here. I mean, granted, I've been wondering how I got here, but maybe the why is a little more important."
-
<Well, abstract figures are just that, abstract. If you want to get into the pure semantics of the matter, the choice to abstain from having a host is not the same as treating a host with respect as a person and a free being. Perhaps some of them choose to abstain from being hosted because of moral implications regarding slavery and forced will. It's just as likely if not moreso that many of them choose to abstain simply because they don't want to deal so closely with the Empire. Or they don't want to deal with the headaches of infestation. Or they simply feel no need to infest a host at all. Perhaps they prefer to have constant kandrona on their skin. The list of possibilities goes on and on. I can all but guarantee you that those who abstain from infestation purely due to a moral compass which abhors externally forced will upon sentient free beings is greatly in the minority.>
Ossanlin withdraws his hoof, sliding the bowl back under the bar, and doesn't order another. <Thus my original statement affirming that those of you who are willing to infest and will only infest voluntary hosts, are vastly in the minority when assuming a one-hundred percent population segment of your people, is still quite true.>
He smiles at Myitt and gestures toward Dalik. <But that only makes Yeerks of your persuasion all the more precious. Those of you willing to coexist peacefully and in a dare I say mutually beneficial manner...you represent the greatness that Yeerk and sentient can reach together as a team.>
He glances at Jeffry, his smile disappearing. <<Changing a timeline requires conscious effort. I cannot promise I will not harm those in my immediate vicinity, but I assume you can rest easy about time continuity, assuming your universe is the same one as mine in the first place.>>
* * *
"I flew here. You know, in a space-ship. After following the route I charted the first time I arrived here." Rathien shrugs. "Those of you that just sort of...appear? No idea. That being said, I could almost certainly fly you to Terra, but it might not be your Terra from what I gather about this place. Er...Earth I guess you call it."
-
Merc waves his free hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, man. I was kind of just thinking out loud. Like I said, I really don't give a damn about going back at the moment anyway. Nothing for me there, really." He takes another sip of his water, which he had almost forgotten. "Dunno where else I can go, but I'm sure I'll figure it out." He slides his hand up a little further on Rathien's leg, his fingertips nearly brushing against his waist, among certain other things. "But while I'm here? Well, you planted a little seed in my head, and I'm interested to see exactly what's gonna grow from it." He appears to think for a moment before looking somewhat disgusted. "God, that sounded a lot less stupid in my head."
-
"A minority, huh? Alright, Ossanlin, we're friends here. I respect you, and I don't want to belabor the point with you. But when was the last time you were in a pool?" Myitt shakes her head. "You don't know how many of us abhor taking hosts for reasons of morality, against the subjugation of another living creature. You just...don't. If anything, we're at least skewed fifty-fifty, and--" She glances again at Jeffrey. "If you know me, you know I don't make up statistics on the spot."
-
Ossanlin shrugs. <Probability states otherwise, but I'm not going to argue the point, least of all with a friend.> Ossanlin orders pure water from the BT and a new bowl slides underneath. He dips his hoof in, gratefully drinking the non-alcoholic substance. <There are more than enough Imperials to enslave entire planets of innocent, free peoples besides.> He glances back at Jeffry. <In any case, the Andalites are trying to stop the Empire at all costs. After all, it was an Andalite who first supplied the Yeerks with the technology to escape their own enslavement to their Kandrona star.>
* * *
"Hmm..." Rathien chuckles, grinning. "Well, neither of us grows crops, but I'm sure someone would like to plant some seed somewhere. It wasn't stupid at all." He leans back a bit as if stretching, lacing his fingers in between Mercs', rolling his hips forward a bit as he stretches before settling back to his relaxed position on the stool. He takes a sip of water as well, already feeling his mind start to clear.
-
"Spoken like a true Andalite," Dalik says with a soft laugh. "The argument is moot. Until you spend extensive time with our people you won't truly understand how we feel about taking hosts." She taps her chest. "Cameron would hardly function without me. Were she to ask for her freedom, and I to give it, she would be dead within a week, and that's a generous estimate. I stay with her because we mutually benefit one another. If I were within the Empire I could be destroyed for even admitting that much."
She swirls her straw among the leftover ice in her glass. "Imperials don't talk about how they feel about their hosts," she continues. "Within the Empire we're subjected to regular memory dumps and controlled by numerous superior officers. Our comm links are watched, our conversations filtered, and our actions monitored. To talk about how much we abhor controlling another -- even to the host himself -- would be suicide."
Dalik shrugs, eyebrows pulled together in a frustrated furrow. "You can't claim to know the feelings of a people you only understand the edges of. Only those of us stationed off-ship, to places like Earth, are able to be alone with our opinions, simply due to the nature of infiltration. Why do you think the Peace Movement sprouted up so quickly after the Earth invasion began?" She glances at Myitt. "Or the rebellion, for that matter."
-
"He's right, you know," Myitt admits, nodding at Dalik. She shivers a little, and covers it by sipping water. "It's almost impossible for Yeerks to share their feelings about taking hosts, so from outside the numbers are awfully skewed, with propaganda on all sides promoting Yeerk domination and ruthlessness."
She sighs, sitting back against the bar counter so she can survey the bar at large. "I'm not sure if you remember this about me, Ossanlin, but I was just a grub when the uprising on the homeworld overthrew Seerow." She holds her cup with both hands, expression distant. "Opposite side of the planet from the whole mess at Sulp Niar, but that's what led to our exodus."
-
"Oh come on, it might be fun in here! I've never even seen what the heck would happen if someone else was mind controlling a mind controller," says Jeffrey, holding his lemonade like it's a wine glass and he's drunk. Which he probably is, but he didn't mind. "But eh well, party tricks aside..." Jeffrey fell silent and listened to Ossanlin and Myitt talk about the Yeerk situation. There was something about it that interested him. As soon as Dalik brought up "memory dumps," he thought of the Memory Manipulators in his own society, mind-tailoring people and wiping out memories that were...inconvenient for any given organization. There was a certain simultaneous familiarity and foreignness to the Empire and world they described.
"An Imperial government, controlling the opinions of a majority, silencing all dissenters no matter how many there are, forcing people to conform in body if not in spirit. Hmm. ...Where I'm from, all of the members of our government--- the Guardian Council--- are elected by the weighted vote of the Peacekeepers and the twenty strongest organizations in the Dome. The Guardian Council and the Administration set all the rules for the competitions, but only your Organization has a look at your head. I guess power is too spread out and well...tribal, in a sense, to ever create a situation like yours. Or even the blue guy's."
-
"Be thankful for that," Dalik says. "Our culture was tribal before the war. It's amazing how quickly things can change. In the course of a few human years we went from the technological equivalent of caveman to more advanced than humans by several hundred years." She shoots a glance at Myitt. "Of course, I wasn't there for it. I was born into this war. Are you really from the Homeworld?"
-
"You know," Merc starts, smiling nervously at Rathien. "I think I've sobered up a bit. If you're still interested, which I think it's safe to assume you are, It micht be a good idea to get a room or something." He takes his hand off Rathien's thigh and rubs his forehead. "Preferably sooner than later, 'cause I'm liable to actually start thinking this through," he says with a chuckle.
-
Myitt shrugs. "Yeah," she tells Dalik, eyeing him squarely. "I really am."
She sighs. "Though I was taken from it when I was very young. I went through my training on a stolen ship."
-
Ossanlin watches on and listens impassively as Jeffry and the Yeerks converse. He continues to sip his water, finding the substance pure and refreshing after all of that liquor.
* * *
"Mmm..." Rathien savors Merc's hand before the human removes it. He smiles over at Merc and starts rubbing the human's back, scratching gently with his claws. He runs his tongue over his teeth and smiles again. "You want to, buddy? Scratch each others' backs, yeah?" He grins. "I promise you won't forget it. But you have to want it. The more you want it, the better it'll be...for both of us." He can feel the excitement beginning to build...this could be good, but the human had to be a willing participant. "I know he has some rooms in the back here, though what we'll find back there.....well they seem to change sometimes." He shrugs. "Usually the room you find fits your needs perfectly. Quite the hospitable one, he is." He nods at the BT.
-
"Well, it's not so much tribal in the tech as the organization of the thing," says Jeffrey. "We've got multiple competing organizations with a couple thousand to a couple of hundred members in each of 'em, who all have different territories and roles in the Dome. But we've still got cell phones and holoscreens and stuff. I think when society falls apart, humans look to what they know!" Jeffrey shrugs and smiles a bit.
Jeffrey glances at Dalik. "Born a soldier, huh? Marching in lockstep from the time you were freaking born. And you..." He looks at Myitt. "...pretty much taken straight up with no warning. Sounds like hell for both of ya. I don't know how you did it. I think I'd have rather bit it than be summoned to the Forward Scouts."
-
Myitt blinks at Jeffrey.
"Forward Scouts? Is that like your version of...of the Nazi SS, or something?" She watches him curiously.
-
Jeffrey barks out a laugh. "Pfft, nah! But I guess they're kind of like the military. People with really dangerous powers get conscripted into the Forward Scouts when they're young and sent Outside, to kill diseased Refugees and other dangerous people who would attack the Master Dome. Cannibals, freaky mutants, that sort of thing. A lot of them die early--- Strict discipline out there, and all of the Outside is an irradiated mess. I escaped it pretty narrowly, myself--- I got powerful before they worked out I was an Esper, and stayed sane for like twenty years."
-
Myitt shakes her head slowly. "And you're from Earth?" she questions. "If you are, it's a far different Earth than I know."
-
Merc nods in a shaky movement. "I wouldn't have accepted the offer if I didn't want to do this, right?" Not quite sure who I'm trying to convince. . . . He moves to stand up, using the bar's counter top for balance until he's sure he's sober enough to stand. "Just so you know, I've never done anything like this with anyone before. Not even Dani. So it's gonna be totally alien for me." He cracks a grin, still feeling some effects of the alcohol. "But **** it. I got a feeling this is gonna be fun."
-
Rathien arches an eyebrow and stands, clapping Merc on the shoulder. "Oh it'll be fun." He grins and starts heading toward the hallway next to the bar. He doesn't look back to see if Merc follows him...if the human wanted it, he would. If he didn't, then that was that and better left that way. "But if you wanna be top-dog, you're gonna have to earn it." He calls out over his shoulder as he disappears back into the hallway.
He chooses the first door on his left and opens it into a strangely accommodating bedroom with a wide space on the floor in front of the bed. Somehow, the windows were frosted over and it looked to be snowing outside even though it most-certainly wasn't. At least it wasn't snowing outside the bar...but maybe this place wasn't exactly the bar. The hardwood floor has a thick throw rug over it, and there's a decent-sized fireplace with a warm fire already lit, flames licking up a chimney that also didn't exist on the bar. The wood-paneled room seems strangely cozy. It was certainly cliche, but a beggar couldn't be a chooser.
-
"And my Earth didn't have brain-stealing tapeworms on it, so I'd think we're even," says Jeffrey, chuckling. "Nah, don't think it's the same place. You and everyone else here that's human...well sort of human...has been dressing...a little bit old-fashioned, I guess? Granted I dress like a member of the graduating class of 1910, so maybe I shouldn't be talking, but the odds are against all of you being history buffs. Merc's already said he's from 2016, so I'd be from eight hundred years in his future!"
-
Dalik's eyebrows lift. "Two-thousand-and-four," she says. "I think." Her lifted brows draw back together thoughtfully. "It's been awhile since I was on Earth, and your calendars don't do me much good in space."
-
"That's from even farther back than Merc," says Jeffrey, raising an eyebrow. "But at least there was good TV in 2004, although I guess from space you wouldn't have seen it!"
-
Dalik's smile is thin, and she shakes her head. "When I left Earth the most interesting thing I saw on television was Gargoyles," she says. "Cameron was nine. We weren't allowed to watch anything beyond cartoons."
She sighs and swipes away her various holoscreens. "It's becoming increasingly obvious to me that my brother has no interest in actually meeting me," she says flatly. "I should go."
William leans back in his stool, watching the conversation impassively. "I'm with you, Jeffrey," he says, suddenly piping up. "I'd love to see what one of these parasites makes of my mind." He grins. "Could be an interesting experiment, eh?" He gives Myitt a leer.
-
Myitt sneers back at William.
"No," she says flatly. "Thank you."
She turns her attention to Dalik. "Wait, um. Dalik. Your brother...the way I know him, he thinks you're dead." She peers at Dalik the Prime. "How many undead people are there, floating around in space?"
-
"Me, at least," says Jeffrey, snickering. "I was only a few steps away from The Walking Dead only a few, what, hours ago? Days?" Jeffrey scratches his head and looks around quizzically. "This place doesn't exactly keep to a strict timetable, does it?" There was something off about it, definitely. He'd have to worry about it later.
Mainly, his problem was that he was really bored. He'd been here for hours just chewing the fat, and nothing had happened! How could a room full of crazy rebels be so dull?! William's idea was sounding better all the time.
"Come on, infest me--- Or Willy Boy at least! We won't know what will happen unless one of you tries," says Jeffrey, smiling. "It'll be fun!" He hopes that bit of persuasion will help things along.
-
"Several, it would seem," Dalik says, rolling her eyes. "Don't you know better than to believe everything the Imperial feeds tell you?"
She tucks her computer cube into her pocket and stretches her arms over her head, standing at her full 5 feet, 2 inches. As she relaxes, she gives Jeffrey a perturbed glance. "You're right, I actually have no idea how long I've been here."
She blinks then, frowning. Suddenly the idea of staying didn't seem so bad. In fact, it seemed downright pleasant compared to her dreary, tattered ship. Pursing her lips, she looks between Jeffrey and William, then, more cautiously, at Myitt.
"Well, if they're so incredibly determined to see what it's like, I suppose we could shut them up," she says slowly.
"Excuse me," William says, lifting an eyebrow as he looks at Jeffrey. "Willy Boy?"
-
"Cool!" says Jeffrey a bit giddily, a strange yet cheerful humming noise starting up around him at a faint but recognizable level. "I mean can a controller control another controller? I just really want to find that out--- If you're in my head, then who's going to brainwash who? Probably you'll brainwash me, but still-- A frame of reference for Oss' conversation would really help end my boredom right about now."
"So..." Jeffrey stood up. "...how's it work?"
-
Myitt's eyebrows raise. "Excuse me?" she blurts.
Then, as if driven by some strange compulsion, she slides off her chair and rough arms her way in front of Dalik, giving her a smirk. "I get him first, jackass."
-
Dalik steps back at Myitt's shove. "Hey!" she says, moving to shove her back. "No fair, I said yes first."
William hesitates, then slides off his stool. "Ladies," he says placatingly. "No need to fight over the silver tongue. We can share, hm?"
Dalik frowns, glancing at William. "Yeah, fine. Okay," she says, not too perturbed by the sudden shift in targets. "You're at least as annoying as he is." She jerks her thumb at Jeffrey. "It'll be just as satisfying quieting you down." She approaches him, head tilted back to take in his appearance. He stands a good eight inches taller than her, and his expression is utterly nonplussed.
"Come here," she says, gesturing with her hand, as if to tell him a secret. William's eyebrows furrow, but his smirk stays in place as he obliges, leaning in. "Are you controlling me yet?" he asks in a stage whisper.
"No, closer, you idiot," she says, grabbing the front of his old-fashioned shirt. The fabric is rough and homemade, easy for her to grip. She tugs him close, until she's awkwardly hugging him.
"Well, this is cozy. Are you--" he begins, then grimaces as she maneuvers their ears together. "Ow, careful there. Mind being careful? I don't want to--"
He cuts off for a second time, for no apparent reason. In fact, he seems to have frozen entirely, his body rigidly embracing the young brunette, eyes unfocused and staring.
-
Ossanlin watches the strange exchange and this time actually notices when Jeffry "turns it on." He doesn't appreciate his friend and newfound potential ally being compelled in such a manner, but he can't really see what harm could come of it. Myitt was getting in Jeffry's head...and he trusted her far more than he trusted the strange human. The other human that swore he wasn't really human...well...he seems innocuous enough for infestation.
-
"Ooooh, you're a little bit of an eager beaver," says Jeffrey, standing up and walking towards Myitt. He clasps his hands together. "Didn't know it sounded like that much fun, but I suppose getting me to stop talking is a privilege in and of itself!"
He wasn't normally so targeted and good at encouraging the thought most likely to get him what he wanted. Or at least he hadn't been for almost ten or fifteen years now. He wonders dimly if his brain is less damaged in this Bar somehow. He wouldn't put it past the creepy Bartender.
Jeffrey watches William and Dalik, nods, and then gets very close to Myitt, grasping her arm. "I admit, I've always wanted to get so up close and personal with a beautiful anarchist."
-
About halfway through burrowing into William's skull, Dalik begins to rethink the idea. What was she doing, leaving Cameron alone and vulnerable? Infesting another human -- or whatever this creature called himself? It was a betrayal, an impossibility. And yet here she was, spanning the breadth of two humans, slowly oozing from Cameron's mind and into William's.
Unfortunately, there was no reverse button in Yeerk biology. Dalik could stop, or she could plow ahead. She wasn't positioned correctly to abort the effort entirely and return safely to the comfort of Cameron's head. Steeling herself, she forces herself forward, feeling the sudden, jarring disconnect as Cameron's thoughts drop away from her awareness.
Dalik isn't left alone for long, though. Her palps sense a new electromagnetic field and she lets instincts guide her around a new brain, slipping into each and every crevice. From a biological standpoint William certainly seems human. He even possesses that maddeningly odd rift that separates the right and left brain from one another.
Then, as he settles more firmly around William's mind, he hits memories.
"Woah," he breathes aloud with an exhaling laugh of disbelief as he straightens to William's full height. His eyes are still distant, tracking as Dalik absorbs an onslaught of information.
<<Hello, Danel,>> Dalik murmurs, noting the thrill of fascination that runs through his new host at the use of the name.
As soon as she is able, Cameron half steps, half stumbles back, releasing her grip on William's shirt and watching with dark eyes that grow wider by the moment. When William -- Dalik -- straightens she makes a small sound that is too soft to be a whimper. More of a squeak, really. Her eyes fill with tears and she starts to shake.
-
Myitt hesitates before she even begins.
<<Myitt, what the hell are you even thinking?>> her host protests silently.
"I don't..." Myitt says faintly, but she trails off, blinking at Jeffrey. She looks down at his hand on her arm. Then back up at him.
She smiles shyly. "Just come here," she says, drawing Jeffrey into an arm's length embrace. When they are close enough she plants one hand on his head and presses their ears together.
<<Myitt! What-->>
Her host's thoughts are cut off as Myitt herself disengages from the tissue of the human brain. Only faint snippets of thought, random and disorganized, reach her as she begins to worm her way into Jeffrey's head.
-
Jeffrey smiles widely and with glee as Myitt grabs his head, and he feels something slithering and slimy edge through his ear. He winces as a sharp pain hits his head, and the ringing in his mind gets even louder. But the change in circumstances doesn't last, and he suddenly finds himself...drifting away from the world. Out of focus. Jeffrey laughs a bit lightly, like he's tipsy, and then stumbles back into the bar. His hands find a place to prop himself up onto it, but he can barely seem to get a handle on them. Eventually...Jeffre y can't find his body at all.
He is drifting, almost floating, within the confines of his own mind. <<Haha. ...She's probably going to see the brain lesions in there, no doubt about that. Jeffrey is not right in the head, no he isn't! Heehee!!>> Jeffrey's thought vision of himself appears to grin nastily. <<...finally. Someone's trying to hypnotize me. Maybe I can get free of the nightmare, for just a blessed moment!>>
But he can't, of course, and it would be nearly the very first thing she'd find. The lingering, haunting images that plague him every time he uses his powers. The image of the tiny child, his own sister, putting a gun to her own head and blowing her own brains out. Her horrible, muffled screams from his parents' bedroom. He tries to redirect his own thoughts from this, while he can, if he still has any control. To bring forth better images. Better times.
His thoughts skip briefly between the nightmares he himself had caused--- The bloodshed, the violence, the careful planning and showmanship of each major event--- A thrill runs right up his spine, as if experiencing them for the first time. The distance so sharpened his thoughts! But better subjects, better subjects! He could share later.
He then focuses on himself, on the man wearing the purple and gold jacket and the grinning masquerade mask. On the Master Dome, and the gleaming silver-white view of it that can be seen from his own penthouse. A vast, sprawling metropolis, with human beings darting quickly across the ground and floating past his window or glowing with light. Rosie, his red-haired teenage daughter, laying her head on his shoulder for a brief moment.
<<Hello in there! Do you like what you see? My name is Void Valmont. Mind Melter. Jeffrey Barnes sometimes, but I've never had a love affair with the moniker my rotten father gave me! You should hear a humming sound. Yeah, it's annoying, but try it out! Sing.>>
-
For a long moment Myitt is paralyzed by the strangeness of it. The onslaught of information.
The strange shape and grooves of his brain aside, the biggest thought she aims towards him - am I aiming my thoughts towards him? - is simply...
<<What are you? How are you even alive?>> Her voice, something like a human voice, is utterly mystified. <<That sound. It isn't...it isn't right.>>
--
Tara steps back from Jeffrey, wiping a thin snot-like substance from her ear with the absence of someone for whom the action is second nature.
"Jesus Christ," she whispers, staring at Jeffrey. "You really are a ****ing idiot, do you know that?"
-
<<Aw, nah, it's totally normal! It's the sound that I hear all day, every day, whether awake or asleep! It's an Esper's Lullaby!> Jeffrey's thought voice cackles with delight. He seemed utterly filled with mirth, like his boredom had been instantly relieved by this development. <<Go on, try it out. When you talk to anybody, you can hear the pitch of their song--- The cut of their jib, the measure of their soul if you will. And you can change yours to match theirs! And when you do, they'll do, well...>> A flash of an image of him doing something rather intimate came forward. <<...whatever you want, sweetcakes. Within limits.>>
<<Or, you know, get a look around! I've had quite a life and there's a good lot in here! I'm a Supervillain, a bad guy, and my name is on the lips of a fair number of people back home! ...if I wasn't dead, that is. To answer your question, I don't know why my telltale heart's kept right on pumping. I'm human, more or less.>> He was-- He just had that unnatural ability to make people more likely to do what he said.
-
Jeffrey's Adam's apple bobs as Myitt swallows. She blinks.
"It's okay," Myitt says in Jeffrey's voice. "I...I think it's okay." She gives no one in particular a shaky smile.
<<Their song?>> she echoes weakly. <<Like...like this?>>
She clears her throat and addresses Tara. "Hey, kid, it's alright. It's just a little weird in here, that's all. It's totally alright, you should just sit back down and relax, alright? [/u] "
"Like hell it's all--" Tara pauses. "All..." Her shoulders slump. The tension eases in the lines of her face. "****. I don't know why I was so worked up. Just don't...you know, shoot anyone or anything. I'll be over here watching you make mistakes." She gives Jeffrey and Myitt a wavering smile, before woodenly climbing back onto the bar stool and pouring herself another glass of water.
<<Wow,>> Myitt observes breathlessly. A sudden uncomfortable tremor runs through her. <<Uh. Jeffrey, I should tell you that I may have made this decision to infest you under shaky mental circumstances. I...I shouldn't have had that oatmeal. It ****s me up. Stupid...stupid of me.>>
-
<<How do you know that name?>> William demands, his thoughts flickering through a jumble of memories. Some are incredibly mundane, human memories, though they come from a time long before Dalik's. They are filled with easy, crass humor and long nights at far more mundane bars. Games of dice, tankards of ale, and nights with women who wave to him from the docks when his ship finally leaves land.
<<You're a pirate,>> Dalik marvels, taking note of the sturdy, wooden ship with its vast sails. It's the sort of thing Cameron had only seen in cartoons and storybooks.
And then there are other memories. Memories of death and rebirth. Memories of shadows with teeth and claws. A gift of immortality, one William spurned and tried to run from. Dalik lingers on these, digging curiously into what is both his most recent and most distant past.
"D-Dalik?" Cameron's voice is a barely audible whisper, but it pulls Dalik from his thoughts all the same. She moves as if to step forward, then changes her mind and takes another step back.
Blinking out of his reverie, Dalik turns to find the girl he has called his host for years. "By the Kandrona, you're short," he marvels. Then he smiles at her. "It's alright, Cameron. It's me."
-
<<Of course it was stupid of you--- You were on drugs! Hahahahaha!>> Jeffrey's laughter echoed throughout his head. This was rich! This was entertaining! <<But more importantly, Ms. Tapeworm...>>
A sudden image of a purple teddy bear that was dressed in a teddy-bear-sized version of the man's "super suit," or whatever that bizarre tailcoat and spandex getup was, suddenly appeared next to a blackboard. The little bear was using a pointer to point to a board which said, "My powers work better when people are a leeetle loopy~" and had a drawing of a man with spirals for eyes next to it.
An image of people injecting themselves with pinkish liquid suddenly appeared, and after that a lively Bar with people getting drunk, and after that an image of a woman crying in a gruesome situation. A woman clearly being tortured. <<Drugs. Drink. Demoralization! The three D's! And the surefire way of getting my tenor to break through the barriers in people's minds! You came in because I told you to. It was getting so damn dull, honey! I had to liven things up. >>
<<Besides, I've always wanted a head buddy, even if I can't control my own body. I get so lonely, dont'cha know.>>
-
Jeffrey's lips part.
"What?" Myitt says with Jeffrey's mouth. "You were a...an interrogator?"
She suddenly slams down a fist, clattering a couple of utensils and glasses on the bar counter. "You enjoyed torturing that woman. Is that the kind of sick person you are?" Her eyes track as she rummages through his mind, seeking answers but also seeking an escape - anything but the images of horror.
Jeffrey's arms start to tremble, but it is only because Myitt herself is overcome with emotion and the effects of the drugs.
-
<<Information? Hah! Oh honey, how advanced is your civilization anyway? Aren't you guys supposed to be spacefaring super-parasites? Torture is just flat-out useless for getting information! What it's good for is throwing people off-balance! Bonkers McFuzzbit level of nuts, you get me? I mean convincing you to come into my head while you're on Yeerk LSD or something? Easy peasy pudding and pie! Convincing somebody that they're a different person? A more...compliant person?>> A sudden image of a smiling receptionist dressed in purple appeared, but didn't stick. << Might bit harder. You gotta apply some force to do that.>>
Luckily, Jeffrey's disturbing voice was drowned out by Myitt's searching deeper into his mind. And while horror and suffering never seemed to be far away from where this man was--- He was known in his world as the infamous "Mind Melter," an unpredictable sadist who kidnapped people he could brainwash and killed those he couldn't--- there were clearly scenes in his mind of joy and warmth and happiness. Him drinking tea and eating meat at a restaurant with a man he referred to as his ex best friend--- Derek Rossum, a.k.a. Static. Derek had apparently once been a supervillain, and was now a superhero, an archnemesis. Heroes and Villains, almost just like in the comic books on Earth, in a massive city underneath a Dome. Derek and Void had been partners, owners of a sort, of a place called Draconis Corporation--- Almost a Supervillain megaconglomerate.
There were images of the man with a red-haired girl with pigtails--- Roselyn Justine Valmont. His daughter. His heart seemed to swell with love and pride involuntarily in any image where she appeared. She was adopted, but clearly that didn't matter much to Mind Melter. What he seemed to want fundamentally was for her to be happy. Although his memories seemed to imply that this was something that wasn't easy to do. There were other people, too-- Someone named Leandra or Seer--- A teleporting vigilante and assassin that he saw as a friend of his, but she didn't seem to see him as a friend.
<<...enjoying your trip down memory lane?>> His voice sounds wounded, like the memories themselves tend to sting.
-
"I know..." Myitt says, grinding Jeffrey's teeth, "...that it's only good for destroying people."
She keeps a heavy shield between her thoughts and Jeffrey's mind, but it is clear from the roil of emotions seeping through that she had, at one point, been on the sorry end of something very like what that woman had been through.
"I'm getting out. I can't do this," she says to no one in particular.
-
<<Right you are! That's all it's good for! Ehehe. But really? Leaving so soon? Awwww.>> There was visible disappointment echoing through Jeffrey's brain. <<But there's so much fun that could be had!>>
<<...by the way, what even happened? How'd you get screwed? Because you clearly were. Something about this rebellion of yours?>> He attaches actual concern to that statement.
-
Tara stares at Myitt and Jeffrey from just a couple of seats over.
"Whoa, Myitt, don't lose it here," she advises, reaching a hand out to touch Jeffrey's hand lightly.
Myitt swallows and says, "I'm not losing it," though tears are springing to Jeffrey's eyes.
<<Do you really wanna know?>> Myitt asks Jeffrey bitterly. <<It's not a pretty picture. At least, not to me.>>
She opens her mind to him, to ten years earlier - had it really been that long?
A flash of bright pink hair. A woman telling her empty, soothing things. The black-on-black of an Imperial jumpsuit uniform.
Pain. Endless agony, the agony of starvation and helplessness wrapped up into one madness. Burns and lacerations and missing fingernails. Her poor host, dragged into this.
Because of her. Stronger than the pain by far was the crushing guilt. If she was going to die, let her die now, before the guilt killed her.
And knowing that somewhere nearby, her brother was dying the torture death of a traitor.
Just like she was.
For weeks.
Outwardly, she just holds Jeffrey's head in her hands, sobs wracking his frame.
The pain of the memory, and the pain of her loss. Daniel was dead, too, now. Daniel...Raikker... how many others would die, suffering, before the end?
-
Jeffrey watched the sadness and pain of the scene play out before him with some combination of shock, horror, disdain, and interest. It was like there were two of him--- The him that remained human and felt something resembling sympathy, and the half that wanted to see what techniques they were using and what world this was. He'd been wrestling with these two his whole life, though, and the crazy one was winning out these days. So much the better-- The one with a conscience ate at him and drove him mad. <<So. You ****ers aren't even the slightest bit different then, a million light years away. Killing and maiming each other for your stupid causes and reasons. Godammit. I hope my people changed.>>
<<...so your boy...that's what happened? You can't get him back?>> There was a nod.<<That explains why you're so drunk.>>
-
Dalik's soothing words calm Cameron for a brief moment, and she inches closer. But then Myitt hits the table with Jeffrey's fist, and she jumps in the air, scurrying back like a wounded animal.
"No, Cameron, it's okay," Dalik says quickly. He steps toward her, but that seems to be a mistake. Her eyes widen with tear-filled fear. She casts a wordless look around the room, gaze lingering on the weapons that everyone seems to don. Dracon beams, swords, tail blades. With another small squeak she turns and runs for the exit.
"No, dammit!" Dalik hisses, lurching forward on legs far longer than he's used to. He makes it three steps before pulling to an abrupt halt, watching the door slam and Cameron lost behind it. He knows better than to chase her. She will only run further.
William's eyebrows furrow with a combination of concern and irritation. <<She can't be out there alone.>> His angry gaze finds Jeffrey. "You did this, didn't you?" Dalik demands, ignoring Myitt's presence and addressing Jeffrey. "I would never never leave Cameron! Not like this." He advances on Jeffrey, feeling a spike of anger, realizing with some satisfaction that beneath his calm guise, William has a temper. Particularly when it comes to a small, helpless girl.
-
Myitt lifts her head, Jeffrey's cheeks streaked with tears. Her eyes are wide.
"Hey, I--" she croaks. "I'm not--I'm not Jeffrey, for ****'s sake! He made me do this, too! The ****, man?" With a wet swipe of the back of Jeffrey's hand she wipes at his nose.
"Sorry your girl ran away," she adds in a bitter mumble. She doesn't even have time to answer Jeffrey, her attention is so trained on what's going on outside of her head.
Tara slides off her chair. "Here, let me help you find her," she offers, and she advances toward the door of the bar, calling Cameron's name into the twilight of the parking lot.
-
<<Whoah whoah, I did separate the two without the slightest regard for the consequences, but I mean....****. We're in trouble. You should probably leave.>> Jeffrey squirms, looking toward the irate Dalik in William's body nervously, but nothing happens. He doesn't actually move. <<Right, right. I can't control my body. Should we go after them? We could probably convince this Cameron woman to come back.>>
-
<<She'll be fine,>> says Myitt. <<Though if she leaves, I can't exactly reinfest her. And then we'd be stuck together for a bit longer than we'd expected.>>
She sighs. <<While we're here, at least tell me a little more about yourself. I prefer to ask, rather than to pry through your mind.>>
-
<<Hahah, okay then, whaddya wanna know?> His voice immediately reverts to that conversational swagger he'd taken up in the Bar. <<Where do we start? The location? The job? Friends? "Friends?" My favorite color's purple.>>
-
Dalik swallows. "Sorry," he mutters to Myitt. When Tara moves to leave he grimaces, but she is out the door before he can stop her. With a tense exhale, he follows.
"She won't come if you scream for her," he says, coming up behind Tara. He can't help but marvel at how much shorter she seems from William's height.
-
Myitt laughs. <<That's Tara's favorite color, too.>>
She pauses. <<Tell me about your job. Can you help people as much as you hurt them?>>
--
Outside, Tara jogs across the gravel parking lot, weaving in between the first ships. "Cameron!" she calls.
She whirls to face Dalik, staring up at William's face, her chest heaving. "What the hell am I supposed to do?" she demands, eyes narrowed to slits. "Lure her with a ****ing carrot?"
-
Jeffrey contemplates this question. She can hear his mind thinking, as if it had never really occurred to him. <<...technically.>> Images suddenly spring into view of Jeffrey kneeling next to a man on the street, who initially seems rather terrified of him (Who wouldn't be, in that outfit?) but then slowly warms up to him. The two chatter on about various subjects, and the man in the image slowly puts down the needle. he was going to use to inject himself with a drug. Another image shows Jeffrey holding his daughter's shoulders as she screams and shakes her head, her eyes closed in pain, and she slowly calms down. <<If I want to, I can use my powers to get people to end bad habits that have been sabotaging their lives, or trick them out of post-traumatic stress disorder or anxiety or agoraphobia. And...>>
A horde of unwashed, thin, frightened children suddenly appear in his mind's eye, and are then shown fading into an image of healthy men and women in uniform. <<...the Dome is a hard place to live. Working for me, while it's got a hell of a mortality rate, does give otherwise hopeless people a roof over their head and food to eat. Most of my soldiers are from orphanages or homeless shelters originally.>>
A brief image of Void himself, wearing a black spandex outfit with purple lines running through where his nervous system would be, walking with a proud and certain expression on his face appears. He is walking towards the edge of an intricately designed white bridge that overlooks the city from a high place. An image of people laughing and talking and playing in the daylight, in an elegantly designed city, appears next. A teenage girl is in one of the images who is wearing a hoodie and a red plaid skirt, covering her mouth and chortling with laughter with a group of friends. She looks very familiar. <!!> Void's mind appears to shirk back from the image, as if trying to protect it.
-
Rathien stops in the hallway as Merc comes up short. "Oh don't worry hun...they all knew what we were doing anyway." He grins and walks past, grabbing Merc's hand and tugging him along out into the bar proper. The BT doesn't even glance as they walk back out to the bar stools, Rathien only walking a little awkwardly. He takes his previous seat and tugs Merc around to sit by him again. "You decide what we drink now...something non-alcoholic though, please." He smirks and glances around the room noting the absence of some of the humans. "Well...guess the party died without us to keep it hot, huh?"
-
Smiling sheepishly, Merc takes his seat at the bar once more. "Uh, virgin daiquiri, I suppose?" he says, both to Rathien and the BT. He locks eyes with Rathien for a brief moment, shooting the Ildari a brief grin, takes a look around the bar, noticing that there were a couple less faces there than before. "So, what'd we miss?" he says to nobody in particular.
-
Outside the bar, a battered old x-wing landed with a thud. As the engines powered down, the ****pit opened up and Hunter, the anthro-wolf bounty hunter jumped out.
Landing on the ground in full superhero pose, he stands up and brushes himself down. The light glistening off the barrel of his comically sized revolver, he makes his way towards the familiar surroundings of the GESB as he buttons his trench coat, obscuring his gear from view, leaving nothing but the bottoms of his black pants, tucked into his big leather and metal boots which are covered in spikes down the front and buckles and chains seemingly everywhere.
As he opens the door, the hinges squeaking in protest, Hunter has a look around as he walks in at who's inside. As usual the bartender is there, endlessly polishing glasses with the same rag, a few new faces and he also thinks he sees Ossanlin and gives a nod as he walks towards the bar, his heavy boots clunking on the bar floor.
Pulling a stool up at the bar, 'gimme a rum, BT. Been a while since I've had the good stuff' Hunter says with a chuckle.
As he is brought his drink, Hunter sighs and says to the bar at large, his ears folding back in relaxation 'Damn, it's been a while since I was here last. Feels good to be back, honestly does.'
-
Dalik narrows William's eyes, looking down at Tara. "We don't do anything," he says with a frown. "We wait for her to come back on her own. Anything else will just scare her more."
His eyes lift to the dark forest and he lets out a slow sigh.
<<I never should have left her,>> he frets internally.
William can't roll his eyes, but the sentiment is clear. <<You're quite attached to the little girl, aren't you?>>
Dalik is silent for a moment. <<I would think you, of all people, would understand. I know who you are. What you are. I can see your memories.>>
"I'm going back inside," he tells Tara. "You should too. You'll never find her on your own."
He turns to stalk back into the bar. "Besides," he says over his shoulder, "It doesn't seem that dangerous out there. She'll scare herself and run back." <<I hope.>>
-
Tara's hand snatches William's shoulder.
"Did you see those feathered things that attacked us?" she demands, eyes still narrowed. "Those are out there. And worse things, besides. Do you really wanna leave that kid out there on her own, without a weapon? Because she'll be dead in an hour."
--
Myitt watches Jeffrey's memories in a dreamy sort of state.
<<Who is the girl?>> she asks, without bothering to sift through his memories. The answer was obvious.
She's so wrapped up in her internal reverie that she has to force herself to blink, to look out through Jeffrey's eyes, and acknowledge the quiet return of Merc and Rathien. She spies Ossanlin nearby.
And she notices Hunter.
An unpleasant smile crawls across her face. "I remember you," she tells Hunter in Jeffrey's deep dulcet. "You won't remember me with this face."
-
As Hunter downs the rum in one gulp, his hole body seems to relax that little bit. He hears an unfamiliar voice say that he knows Hunter.
He spins the stool in the direction of the voice, his full length black trench coat lightly flicking around behind him.
He looks the stranger up and down and with a shrug, quickly orders another drink with a raise of a hand towards the bartender and says with a laugh 'It wouldn't surprise me, knowing this place.'
'And you are?' He queried with a quizzical expression drawn across his wolf like face, his ears folding back, a mite apprehensively.
-
Still grinning, Jeffrey's body relaxes a little, leaning against the bar counter.
"It's Myitt. I've taken up temporary residence in Jeffrey, here." She looks briefly pensive. "It's, uh, kind of a long story." Again the faint tremors run through her. Oatmeal was not to be taken lightly.
-
<<Rosie. My daughter.>> Jeffrey's thought voice echoes breathlessly, as if taken aback by the uncomfortably intimate fantasy he had unwittingly shown Myitt. <<...you blokes can really see anything, can'tcha? People's darkest secrets, worst memories...most hopeless dreams. And we can't do anything about it. Well...>>
Jeffrey reluctantly appears to cede part of his mind to Myitt. This part shows the girl with red pigtails, blowing a bubble of pink bubblegum and seeming a bit irritated, sitting in a waiting room. The girl laughing her ass off on a ledge, trading quips with her father. The girl yelling angrily at him. The girl getting stone drunk. The girl when very young throwing a knife clean into the center of a target and Jeffrey congratulating her. <<...I'd do anything for her. I'd die for her. I wanted to.>>
Jeffrey shakes out of his reverie to notice the bizarre, wolf-like creature that walked into the Bar and that they're now addressing. Weird. <<After Skeleton Kid, nothing really surprises me in this ****hole. Who is this guy? How do you know him?>>
-
As Hunter's second drink is placed in front of him, "Oh what?! It's been about what, 3 years or so?" He says surprised, as his ears prick up and his tail; visible from the slit in the back of his trench coat, starts swaying to and fro almost as if it has a mind of it's own.
Picking his drink up and taking a sip, he chuckles and asks jokingly "So, how'd you two meet?"
"But what happened though, are you alright?" He added, with a concerned look, as he unbuttoned his trench coat one handed, revealing what looks like a climbing harness over a grey shirt, with a whole assortment of gear; including handcuffs, his new pistol (a comically sized revolver think: nerf revolver), and a couple small sized ammo pouches, all attached around the waist, with more things unseen, obscured by his long coat.
-
Dalik freezes, swallowing hard as he thinks back to the dinosaur-like -- surely they hadn't actually been dinosaurs -- attackers. Small, vicious, and far too capable of tearing Cameron to shreds.
With a slow exhale, he turns back to face Tara. William's face is pale, his eyes searching hers. "She's never seen me in another host before," he says. "I don't think she'll come when I call."
-
Merc raises an eyebrow at the newcomer, not quite sure what to make of the anthropomorphic wolf. He shrugs it off, figuring that this was no weirder than the Andalite in the room. He gives a small, noncommittal wave, trying to soak in the conversation.
"So, wait a sec," he says. "Lemme get this straight. Dalik is controlling William now, Myitt is in Jeffrey, and Cameron is AWOL." He raps his fingers on the bar for a moment. "Alright, I don't exactly follow how you 'Yeerks' do that, but whatever. But how the hell does Cameron just leave like that?" His expression slowly changes from confusion to concern. "Hold on, are those psycho ****ing chickens still out there? Please tell me you're not just sitting in here while she's out there with those things lurking around, right?"
-
Tara huffs an impatient laugh. "If you don't try to call her, she's going to die out there no matter what you do." She raises her hands to her mouth and calls, "Cameron! Come on back here, kid, we aren't going to hurt you!"
--
Myitt blinks, distracted by Jeffrey's powerful memories of his daughter.
"I, uh..." She clears Jeffrey's throat. "Yes, I suppose it has been three years. Maybe more, maybe less." She shrugs. "I've been better, to be honest."
To Jeffrey she adds wryly, <<Perhaps we can both say the same of ourselves.>>
Myitt turns to glance at Merc. "Yes," she says carefully. "They're still out there." She pulls the bottle of red liquor closer, along the bar counter. "Tara will take care of it, I'm sure."
-
Dalik winces at Tara's cry, then finds himself listening intently for any sign of Cameron. He holds himself still, barely even breathing, William's head ****ed to the side.
<<You couldn't have the power of super-human hearing, could you?>> he gripes. <<What use are you?>>
From the darkness the various sounds of the forest can be heart. Leaves rustle. Trees creak. From far off there is the audible snap! of a branch.
There is no response from Cameron.
"Maybe you're right," Dalik breathes. "We should..." He trails off, one hand patting his side automatically, searching for his Dracon. Instead he finds only William's long knife. "Oh, dapsen, she has the Dracon. And my computer and comm. This is a disaster."
-
Figuring that Myitt doesn't want to talk about it, he switches to the topics at hand.
'That sounds pretty crazy, yo. Everyone's everywhere.' He chuckles
Hunter looks past Myitt/Jeffrey to the Human sitting next to her. Looking him over and taking in his scent, he knows for a fact that he's not like the humans from his universe, so he gives a nod of approval and says with a laugh, 'Hunter's the name, and bounty hunting's the game.'
'What's this about psycho chickens?' He adds, his right ear flopping sideways and ****ing his head in confusion.
He also notices a strange creature with pointed ears and fangs looking in his direction.
He takes a mouthful from his rum and coke, and places it down on the bar.
-
Rathien raises an eyebrow at Merc while sipping the new, and blessedly non-alcoholic, drink that Merc had suggested. His enhanced senses warn him before the newcomer comes in. His eyes automatically track the creature, an anthropomorphic canine, as he moves to take a seat at the bar. He smiles a little, feeling some kinship with him even before he introduces himself as a bounty hunter. That seemed a very common profession in here.
The Ildari marvels a bit to himself...Merc, an assassin, Rathien himself a Hunter, and this newcomer a chaser of bounties. But his first feeling of kinship is certainly due to the being's feralism (so to speak). He grins to himself, his canine-like fangs clearly visible, his short claws clinking on the daiquiri glass, his long, damp hair a darker blue as it continues to dry against his neck and shoulders.
Rathien's pointed, elfin ears perk a bit as Merc speaks up and he arches his eyebrow again, giving Merc a "wtf" look. "Psycho....chickens. ..? Strange, that didn't come up in bed..." He chuckles a bit, squeezing Merc's thigh with his free hand.
-
"Yeah," Merc says, nodding his head in a jerky motion. "Psycho chickens from Hell. Came from the freezer." He chokes out a laugh and rests his hand on Rathien's. "This place is ****ed up, man. I don't think I need to tell you that. And I guess our friend Cameron is out there with them." He rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his drink. "Y'know what? Not my problem."
Merc directs his attention toward Hunter. "Name's Mercer," he says. "Merc for short. Seems like a lot of career killers come to this place. You, me, Rathien here. . . ." He lets a smile creep its way across his face. "Come on over, man," he says, gesturing to the bar stool next to him. "Could always use more company."
-
<<...I've had better, yeah. I was set up--- Set up by Rosie. By the daughter I would have given anything to. Set up because she fell in love with some jerk-- Ellis Straylight. The Bogey. A Shadowmancer and ex-Forward Scout.>> Ellis was evidently neither male or female, but instead intersex, from his memories.
Jeffrey turns instantly to the conversations going on inside the Bar, though, as if he'd prefer not to talk about it. <<You sure your buddy's going to be okay out there? I mean we could follow them and brainwash Cameron so that she comes back. Dangerous with the raptors about, but this whole mess is my fault anyway, right?>>
-
Rathien nods. "Indeed." His sense of scent and tracking abilities could have likely found the human girl immediately...but no one had asked him, and he doesn't know if he'd do it anyway. Actually, he probably would've if Merc was more distraught over the fact...but he's glad his human friend isn't really bothered. "I swear...some humans have a talent to be so...irritating." He chuckles good-naturedly, letting Merc know Rathien finds him the exact opposite of 'irritating.'
"She was stupid enough to go running witless out into the wilderness. She should suffer the consequences of her actions. Who knows, maybe she'll survive and be stronger for the experience...you know, not being enabled by someone dragging her out of the mess her own silly actions put her into." The Ildari shrugs again, obviously not really caring if the girl survives or not. In his mind, she deserves whatever fate she gets. The first skill one should master is that of survival, regardless of one's usual surroundings. There were all different sorts of survival situations, but a simple set of basic skills, easily learned, vastly improved the chances of you getting out of ANY scenario with your skin intact. If you ran into a situation without the proper preparation, whatever happened to you was your own fault without exception. If the girl couldn't handle the dangers of the wilderness, she shouldn't have run off into it. Simple as that.
Rathien glances at Hunter again, smiling. Sure...why not? He might get a better sense of just how animal the being is with a closer vantage.
* * *
Ossanlin sighs as the human girl runs off. He could probably scan for lifesigns and find her, or morph something that could fly to search the trees, but ultimately he decides not to. Somehow he gets the same feeling from her and the situation as he got from that of Terenia, though he can't put his tail on why. His senses tell him that he'd try to do something good by the girl, but somehow his actions would end up dramatically backfiring in some illogical and unpredictable manner and the girl would probably die or kill someone or something else needlessly dramatic would happen. So he simply decides to leave it alone, sipping the water from his bowl.
He returns Hunter's nod, somewhat recalling the anthropomorphic wolf from a long while ago. Another bounty hunter unless he mis-remembers. He turns his attention back to the Jeffrey/Myitt combination. <So then, how's the schizophrenic head-space, Myitt?>
-
'Yeah, why not. You don't smell like the humans I know, so I've got no beef with you.' He says, while sliding his drink down the bar, the drink coming to a stop in front of the empty stool in between Myitt/Jeffrey and the human calling himself Merc. He gets off the stool, his boots clunking on the wooden floor, as his long coat gets caught up on the stool, knocking it over and revealing the last few items obscured from view; a can of mace and a heavy retractable baton.
Fixing the stool, he ambles over, and sits on the stool while picking up his drink. He turns around on the stool, putting his back towards the bar, resting against the edge of the counter with his coat nearly brushing the floor and asks,
'So what brings a couple of new faces like yourselves to the bar?' He finished his drink with one gulp and placed the empty glass on the counter behind him.
-
"Uh huh," says Tara, stomping off through the shipyard, drawing her own Dracon.
--
Myitt jumps in response to Ossanlin, drawn out of Jeffrey's inner turmoil.
She has to look around to spot him.
"Ossanlin," she breathes. "It's...well, I don't exactly know why I'm here, to be honest. I just felt..." She frowns, voice faint. "Compelled to do it."
-
<He has semi-psychic hypnotic abilities. He's been touting them this whole time. He tried using them on me too...they worked, for a moment.> Ossanlin arches an eyebrow. <He used them to compel both yourself and Dalik to infest himself and William. I...thought you realized. I can only assume you could access his powers of compulsion now yourself.>
* * *
Rathien chuckles. "I've been here many times before, though I don't remember seeing you on my past visits." He sips his drink.
-
"No idea," Merc says, his slightly glazed-over eyes trying to get a good read on Hunter. "Just woke up here. From what I hear, that tends to happen in these parts." He takes another sip of his nonalcoholic drink in a vain attempt to brush off his lingering inebriation. "What about you? Seems like everyone here has a story. And what do you mean by, 'humans you know?'"
* * *
An old, battered Bug Fighter touches down outside the bar. To a keen observer, the ship could be easily identified as a very outdated model, however, this would require close observation by somebody who knew their Yeerk spacecraft. As the engines cease their whirring and cool down, a figure in a black, hooded robe reminiscent of the Grim Reaper of human lore hops out of the craft and makes its way toward the bar.
The creature enters the Bar and, without a word, shuffles over toward the bookshelves. Even underneath the robe, a series of sharp protrusions clearly jut out of the newcomer's extremities. It rifles through the books, many in strange, alien languages, before selecting one and removing it from the shelf. As the figure makes its way to the Bar, its height of at least seven feet becomes quite apparent.
The hood drops down, revealing the reptilian head of a Hork Bajir with three sharp blades on the top of his head - more accurately, two, with a stump in the front where a blade normally would be. "Just a water, please," the Hork-Bajir tells the bartender in the gruff, guttural voice characteristic of his species.
-
Hunter turned on his stool, facing both Merc and the creature that spoke up. He marvels at the strange creature, his blue hair looking an obscure shade of brown to his colour-blind eyes. His pointed ears were also of interest to him, as he had seen none like them before.
Hunter sniffs a little, taking in his unfamiliar scent. This guy's nothing like anyone I know he thought, his ears and expression clearly showing his interest.
'Well,' Hunter pauses for a moment before he continues, thinking how to best word out what he was about to say.
'To cut a long story short, I only know of three others of my species out there. That's what I mean by "humans I know".' He said, preferring not to dwell on past memories. The amount of hate and resentment in his last three words was astonishing.
Hunter doesn't notice the newcomer enter the bar, but he picks up another unfamiliar scent.
Hunter's holographic communicator emits two quiet beeps from the inside pocket of his leather trench coat, indicating an incoming holocall from a known sender. He chooses not to answer it just yet.
-
<<In this one context my powers could actually help--- Help to get that Cameron kid out of trouble in the woods. Although I'm not sure where he's getting the whole 'psychic' thing from. Far as I understand it, my powers could be caused by that, but mainly the effect is neurological. Maybe because he doesn't talk?>>
Jeffrey thinks about it. It makes a screwball kind of sense. If the blue deer paladin guy, Ossanlin, talked by thinking, then he supposed his powers would adapt to the form of communication used by the subject of his attack.
Jeffrey looks less-than-thrilled as another bizarre alien walks through the front door but something seems less unsettling about this alien type than he expected. He's not looking directly at it, and he can tell it's "normal." He assumes it's because Myitt knows what the alien is, but he can't access her carefully guarded psyche beyond an uneasy familiarity. A thrill of excitement runs through Jeffrey's mind. <<Oh man, this is so cool. If I had my old mind back, I'd be thinking about the psychology of this Yeerk thing for hours. >>
-
The shipyard is largely silent, save the distant arrival of a new craft. Cameron doesn't seem to be inclined to come out of hiding, or reveal where she is.
After a moment of hesitation, Dalik curses under his breath and follows Tara, hissing her name. "Do you at least have a spare Dracon I could use?" he demands. "If we run into more of those...chicken dinosaur things...I want to be armed." He pauses, then lifts his voice, shouting for the first time. "Cameron!"
-
"Yeah," Myitt mutters flatly to Ossanlin. "I kind of got the memo. I mean, I understand that now." She swallows. "Jesus, I can really make people do things?" The implications of this fact suddenly hit her hard, and even if they're dark and hopeful ideas, she can't help entertaining them.
<We could end this ****ing war,> she says, half to herself.
She's about to say more, when she spots the cloaked Hork-Bajir and her mind closes off like a steel trap.
<That thing isn't normal,> she tells Jeffrey, guarding everything but her words. <Hork-Bajir don't wear cloaks like that, unless they're...> She trails off, eyes narrowing as she observes the cloaked reptilian creature. <But the robe, I'm sure it's...it's the wrong color.>
--
"Cameron!" Tara shouts, cupping her hands over her mouth. She shoots Dalik a sour look. "No, I don't just carry extra Dracons around. What do you think I am, a weapons dealer?" She huffs a mirthless laugh. "If those things come back again, you just try not to get yourself killed. He looks strong enough."
-
Merc's eyes widen as Hunter tells him the fate of his people. "Holy ****, man. Yeah, I think I've got a good idea as to why you don't like humans so much." He pushes his hair out of his face and looks at Hunter, the last remnants of intoxication slowly leaving his face. "I'm not gonna lie to you; where I'm from, humans have done some pretty heinous ****. I don't think anything quite that bad though." He chuckles softly to himself. "Unless you believe those whacked-out conspiracy theorists."
Merc's gaze slowly shifts to the newcomer waiting for his drink. "The **** . . ." he mouths, but the words don't manage to escape his lips. Granted, the Hork-Bajir shouldn't have seemed so strange, especially after meeting Ossanlin and Hunter, but seeing the bladed creature was still quite the shock to Mercer. He quickly shakes off the confusion, though, and turns back to Hunter. "So, what is your species anyway?"
***
The Hork-Bajir takes his water, and with a brief nod to the BT, walks back over toward the bookshelves. None of the other patrons seemed particularly interested in holding a conversation with him, which was certainly alright. Although, he noticed a few strange looks. Probably nothing to worry about - the looks seemed to come only from the humans, who have likely never seen a Hork-Bajir such as himself. Even less likely for them to have met a Seer.
Carefully, the Hork-Bajir drapes his tail over the back of one of the armchairs and sits down, making sure not to destroy the furniture with his blades. Once he's comfortable, he opens his book. All this commotion is going to be distracting, he thinks as his eyes scan the pages. Nothing he can do about it, of course.
-
<I'm taking us over there,> Myitt tells Jeffrey, and she slides off the seat, straightening Jeffrey's shirt with a cold look of determination.
-
Hunter barked out a laugh. 'Conspiracy theorists? **** man, they really are everywhere.'
Quickly looking over his shoulder to the strange bladed alien waiting at the bar, he thinks The bar really does attract all sorts, doesn't it?
Turning back to Mercer and Rathien, he says 'I was born on a small planet in the Rukbat sector, called Pern, and I'm a Grey Wolf from the western continent.' With that, Hunter removes the small, black holo-communicator from his inner pocket; a small blue light flashing with the beeps.
With a sigh, he places it on the bar, deciding whether or not he should answer it considering that this was his first day off in a while.
-
Ossanlin watches the Hork-Bajir as it enters warily with a stalk eye. The cloak marked it as something other than Imperial, though that certainly seems odd...Hork-Bajir would have trouble operating any ship without help. He doesn't sense the presence of a Yeerk in the Hork-Bajir's head though. His main eyes narrow as the Hork-Bajir speaks unbroken and very clearly, ordering his water. He continues to watch as the Hork-Bajir moves toward a bookshelf that wasn't always there...but then there used to be a lounge area too...it seemed to come and go as the BT pleased. The Hork-Bajir clearly picks up a book and begins leafing through it as if to make a point that he could read. So then...one of the genetic throwbacks...the balance of the Arn's imperfect equation...and only the fourth so-called "seer" Ossanlin had ever heard of. He would be only the second one Ossanlin had met. Although a sudden pang rushes through his mind as he realizes in this timeline, he's not had the pleasure of having met Rythil...nor his brilliant physical theorist controller Firin.
Ossanlin takes another sip of his water before following Myitt over, holding his tail in a deliberately relaxed position. Most Hork-Bajir did not have a particularly flattering view of Andalites...and who could blame them? Alloran tried to mass murder all of them and made their beloved home unlivable for them in the process.
* * *
"Can't say I'm familiar with that area of space...but if there's more of you there I think I'd like it." Rathien grins. "Shame to hear..." He responds in reference to Hunter's story about what happened to his people. "Can't see why someone would want to exterminate an entire species. I mean...I kill people, but on a one on one basis, y'know? Genocide's just...stupid. And no fun at all." He sips his drink lightly.
"Speaking of genocide...that's a Hork-Bajir, Merc. Most are dumb as soup...genetically engineered to be stupid...but this one is either a controller with a very strange fashion sense, or he's a 'seer'. That's interesting. The Andalites, like the War-Prince over there, tried to murder their entire population to keep the Yeerks from using them as hosts. Marvelous history there." The Ildari watches on in interest.
-
Merc nods in response to Hunter. "Right . . . I think I sort of follow. I mean, I got 'Gray Wolf,' out of that." He cracks a small grin. "'Course, I think I might have been able to figure that one out myself."
"So," he starts after Rathien finishes talking, "far as I can tell , these Yeerks, Andalites, and . . . you said, 'Hork-Bajir'? Sounds like they have some history with each other." He looks at Ossanlin out of the corner of his eye. "And not much love to go around between the three."
* * *
The Hork-Bajir, for his part, doesn't even look up from his book as Ossanlin passes by, almost as if he doesn't notice the Andalite. Or he just chooses not to acknowledge his existence. Whatever the case, when Rathien finishes speaking, the newcomer looks up and glares at the Ildari through narrowed eyes.
"I am not a Yeerk," he says bluntly. "I have not been a Controller for a long time, and I fully intend to remain free until the day I die. As for the rest of my people . . ." his voice softens ever so slightly at the mention of the other Hork-Bajir. Of course, with his gruff voice, it's easy to miss. " . . . You may be right about their intelligence. But at least we don't commit murder for pleasure. Or profit." After saying this, he returns to his book, not bothering to observe Rathien's reaction.
"My name is Nepek," he says, not even sparing Rathien a second glance. "And it would serve you well to remember that."
-
Jeffrey's body marches up to the Hork-Bajir, just ahead of Ossanlin.
"You're a free Hork-Bajir," says Myitt unnecessarily, but with a bit of wonder - and something else. She looks him up and down. "Nepek. I was...a part of the war on the Hork-Bajir homeworld. Would you mind if I..." She trails off, patting Jeffrey's torso absently.
<<Stupid,>> she mutters to Jeffrey. <<Tara has all of my gear. I don't even have my bio-scanner.>> She huffs an impatient sigh.
"...If I asked you...a few questions?" she finishes distractedly, after the blank delay. "My name is Myitt."
-
Rathien puts his hands up in a semi-defensive gesture. "Hey hey...no offense meant by stating facts, touchy. Sorry...Nepek. Honestly I feel for your species, I mean you guys got royally screwed by three different races. It's not your fault the Arn literally engineered the intelligence out of you on a genetic level. I mean, what can you do about that? Far as I'm concerned, that was the worst thing ever done to you...they tried to make you into pets to preserve their own skins. Ain't right."
He shrugs. "Then the Yeerks come along and screw you by taking a large number of a pacifist, herbivorous species and forcing them to become bloody, gore-stained death machines. Can't imagine what that would be like...being forced to go against your own very nature."
"And then of course, the ever-zealous Andalites come along to engineer and release a viral plague to completely eradicate your species in an act of global genocide. I mean....you guys just can't seem to catch a break."
* * *
Ossanlin watches the exchange for a few minutes, noting 'Nepek's' disregard of him. He shoots a dark look at Rathien. <The actions of one ruthless, abhorrent war criminal should not reflect upon a species as a whole. You fail to mention that the quantum virus was the act of a single Andalite who is now paying a price worse than death for his actions. That virus was neither developed nor sanctioned by the government. Alloran used military resources and Arn data and technology to create that abomination and release it in an effort to kill an entire species. I can assure you the Electorate would not have condoned the action...if the Andalites didn't care about the lives of other free species, we wouldn't bother with trying to stop the Empire.>
-
Myitt gives Rathien a bristling stare.
"I can imagine very well what it's like, being forced to go against your nature," she tells him, Jeffrey's voice laced with bitterness. His hands are curled into fists at his sides. "I lost many friends on that planet, and I lost a lot more than that."
She exhales and nods at Nepek. "For what it's worth, I was trying to help your people, in my own small way. Obviously those of us who felt like we should be ignoring our Imperial duties didn't exactly save the day." Jeffrey's shoulder lifts in a half shrug. "I managed to save one of you, and that was good. That was worth everything." Self-conscious, she clears her throat and looks away. "Enough about me."
-
"You might be," Dalik points out. "How am I supposed to know? You rebels have to make a living somehow."
He pauses to shout Cameron's name, trying not to shiver as the darkness seems to swallow his words immediately.
<<You don't like these rebels,>> William murmurs, trying to absorb as much as he can about the strange creature in his mind.
<<I don't have any particularly strong feelings about them,>> Dalik responds thinly, keeping his true thoughts blocked off.
<<You're lying.>>
The certainty in William's "voice" draws Dalik up short. <<Well. That's interesting.>>
He looks at Tara. "Tell me about yourself," he says abruptly. "Three facts. Make one of them a lie and don't tell me which."
From beyond a battered Skrit Na freighter, just behind the tree line, there is a rustling.
Then silence.
-
"What?" Tara snaps impatiently, eyes on the line of trees.
She squeezes the handle of the Dracon tighter, wiping her sweaty open palm on her jeans.
Then she snorts a laugh. "What an odd time to play a game, you weirdo. Keep your eyes on the trees, and don't talk."
Tara stalks forward, squinting in the semi-dark. There weren't exactly any spotlights on the shipyard; only the light from the bar behind them, and one or two dimly glowing ships beyond.
On three fingers she lists them, each one smooth and without pause. "I was born in September, I never went to college, and I grew up in San Diego." She sighs shortly. "Now will you let me concentrate?"
-
Responding to Rathien with a sigh, Hunter says 'Yeah, it's a pretty sad outcome, but from what I last heard the other three were a band of pirates or something like that.'
Looking at the communicator on the counter, he decides to answer it. With the push of a button, a word appears in a blue hologram displayed just above the unit, showing one word. Boss.
As the call connected, a blue hologrid covered Hunters face, and a projection of a lizard-like head appeared six inches above the small black box.
'Yesss, Bosss?' Hunter asked, mimicking his bosses lisp, as he usually does.
'Howl's my besst hunter?' His boss replied, with an appalling imitation of Hunter's howl.
'Good, good. What's up boss? You're interrupting my day off.' He said, slightly irritated.
'We have reason to believe that the human tracker, Markuss, is after you again. Be careful.'
'Oh man, that guy, again? I thought he would have got the hint the last two times.'
'Apparently not' his boss laughed
'Well, where I'm at is untraceable, so let him try. Talk to ya when I'm back.' With that he disconnected the call and turned back to his conversation.
'Sorry about that Merc. Where were we?'
-
"The hell was that?" Merc mutters before quickly shaking off his confusion. "Whatever. What brings you to a place like this?" He scratches his chin, trying to ward off the urge for yet another cigarette. "Looks like you came here of your own accord. Any particular reason?"
* * *
Nepek closes his book, obviously having found something else to invest his attention in. "Well, you certainly know your history," he says to Rathien. "Of course, I wasn't alive for any of that. But the aftermath of battle on the Hork-Bajir homeworld was still . . . devastating, to say the very least."
He shifts his gaze toward Ossanlin. When he speaks, his voice is dangerously calm. "As a whole, what have the Andalites done for the Hork-Bajir people following the events on our homeworld? What kind of reparations have we been paid?" His hand starts visibly shaking with barely-contained rage. "Because let me tell you, I haven't seen a single Andalite attempt to repair the damage of the Quantum Virus," he snarls, answering his own rhetorical question. "Our homeworld is still abandoned. Maybe you Andalites think that my people are too dumb to care. And maybe most of them are. But you'll have to forgive me for holding a grudge."
He then looks at Jeffrey, his facial muscles already slightly relaxed. "You said your name is Myitt?" He nods. "I have heard of a small faction of Yeerks that fought on the Hork-Bajir side on our planet. From what you've said, it seems like you sacrificed a lot for my people." He smiles - at least, what passes for a Hork-Bajir smile. "Ask me anything you'd like, Myitt."
-
Rathien shrugs. "Knowledge is power, especially in my profession. I make it a general rule not to take any contracts on Imperials in Hork-Bajir hosts. Figure you guys have been through enough...though I never did get the pacifism thing." He takes a deep drink from his glass before falling silent, once again watching the exchanges. It seemed that Merc and Hunter were hitting it off...wasn't often Rathien felt like the third wheel...but then that might be for the best, given the somewhat troubling offer he'd made Merc earlier.
* * *
Ossanlin keeps his face calm...poise was often his most powerful tool. <And what reparations would you have the Andalites make? We cannot undo what Alloran has done. It is beyond our technology to remove the quantum virus from your homeworld. The quantum virus itself was only made possible by the Arn, and I promise you that we know of no other species with the biological understanding which was possessed by them.> He maintains his cool stoicism through his tone and demeanor. <The vast majority of your survivors are enslaved by the Empire. The Andalites fight the Empire with every breath and beat of the hearts for the sake of all. As far as I can see, stopping the Empire and freeing their enslaved captives is literally the only thing the Andalites can do to help the Hork-Bajir at this point.>
He falls silent for a moment before speaking up again. <You may find it hard to believe, but I've been friends with Hork-Bajir in the past. Worked with them in point of fact. I've worked with the rebels...in fact the Yeerk in this human's head is one of my truest friends. I knew another 'seer' in another life...he went by the name of Rythil, and he didn't like me much at first either. He eventually saw what I was willing to sacrifice for the greater good of ALL species. Not all individuals of a species are created the same, Nepek. You, of all people, should understand that.>
-
"No," Dalik says, surprised by his own confidence. "You didn't grow up in San Diego. That's a lie. But it's not far from the truth. You did grow up in a city. A city near water, I think." William's lips purse thoughtfully for a moment, then his expression brightens. "Boston?"
As quickly as his expression brightens it turns surprised. "That's amazing," he murmurs. <<How?>>
<<It's what I am,>> William responds, not entirely pleased. <<Now will you please make sure we don't get eaten? I really don't want to die again.>>
Blinking, Dalik turns his gaze outward, circling slowly. "My ship," he suddenly says. "Maybe she ran back to the ship."
-
"How many of you?" Myitt starts, then clears Jeffrey's throat. "How many of you are still alive? I had a friend...a good friend, whose freedom cost me...never mind. I-I just want to know that there are more of you than...just her." She wrings her hands. "I'm afraid I didn't do as much as I could have. I was...I served the Empire, then."
She smiles apologetically.
--
Tara nods slowly. "Nice party trick," she says, sounding blandly unimpressed. "Yeah, ship sounds like a good idea. Ship is safer. Ship has a hull that can protect us from...things."
With her Dracon still drawn, she wanders a few steps away from William. "You should probably lead the way to it, huh?"
-
Jeffrey listens to the three way conversation between Myitt, the Hork-Bajir named Napek (Apparently one of the only smart members of his species), and Ossanlin. Jeffrey winces as he hears Ossanlin's argument. That sounded...exactly like the pragmatic argument of a Peacekeeper who had either lost way too many people to war, or lost no one and lived at a distance from it. Ossanlin's previous conversations suggested the former. <<Damn bastard. What the hell does he know? Talking about the 'good of all species' like he knows what in the world that is.>>
Bodies, suddenly. Another memory in Jeffrey's mind. A pile of bodies on the floor of a warehouse, pale and blue, with puffy lips. Dried blood has seeped from their mouths as if they had been poisoned, and were coughing up the scarlet river of life moments ago. <<Death is death is death! That I know. There's no saying things like that. Even the Hork-Bajir guy is wrong with the reparations thing. You can't ever pay back enough. The only thing to do is to accept your guilt. Even if, in his case, it's the guilt of his whole race.>>
-
Myitt is surprised, but relatively unmoved by the scene of slaughter flashing vividly through Jeffrey's mind.
Clearly she has seen death, herself, and death in battle at that.
<<He's my friend,>> she murmurs. <<Though he does tend to get a little...pedantic.>>
She comes back to the memory. <<You've killed people before. In terrible ways.>>
-
Dalik does take the lead, barely looking to see if Tara is following.
"It is, isn't it," he muses. "Though it isn't worth much, really. Unless you're an interrogator. Now that would be interesting. Much more efficient than even a memory dump...simply knowing whether someone is a liar or not..."
He pauses in front of a heavily modified Bug Fighter. It's almost as old as Myitt's, but it has been meticulously maintained and appears to be sporting new limbs and protrusions. The ramp is down and the hatch is open.
Dalik exhales a noticeable sigh of relief. "Okay," he says. "She must be inside. Um..." He hesitates, then gives Tara a cautious look. "Do you mind...convincing her to come out? I'm afraid seeing me in this body will frighten her all over again."
-
Tara glances back at Dalik with a frown.
"She's, uh, pretty jumpy, isn't she?" she intones, sighing and climbing the ramp.
"Cameron?" Tara calls as she steps into the cabin. "Hey, it's okay, it's just me. I'm a friend."
-
Nepek says nothing for a moment. His face betrays not even the slightest emotion. "Do you know what it's like to be a Controller, Andalite?" he finally asks. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be trapped inside your own head, a slave to a creature that constantly berates you for existing?" He shifts his weight forward and points a finger at Ossanlin, a very human-like gesture. "'You're worthless,' it told me. 'You're nothing but a tool. A walking weapon.' Need I go on? I was told these things day in, day out, from the day I was born until the end of the Yeerk war on Earth."
He lowers his hand, feeling he made his point. "I hold no ill will toward the Yeerks. They did what they had to in order to survive. The constant berating . . . I may not like that they broke their hosts' willpower, but it was necessary for their survival. And when an alternative to enslaving other creatures was presented, they took it."
Nepek finally sits back and lays his hand on the chair's armrest. "When you consider it, the Yeerks were slaves in their own way, to their own anatomy. That may not be a justification, but it goes a long way in explaining their actions. What excuse do the Andalites have for their warmongering? If the Quantum Virus was such a terrible thing, then why would the Andalites plan the mass genocide of humans in the last leg of the war on Earth!? Seems like Alloran was only shamed so the military could save face." Nepek pauses for a moment, out of breath from his outburst.
"You're certainly right about one thing, though. Not all people of a species are the same. Maybe you're not the general archetype of arrogance and pompousness. As an old colleague of mine would have said, 'a regular ****ing saint.' But I've found that it's often best to air on the side of caution, lest my carelessness come back to haunt me. So I say again - if you do, as you've said, fight for the good of all species, then you'll have to forgive me for holding a grudge."
Nepek takes another moment before his eyes scroll back over toward Jeffrey. Judging from his frequent pauses, it was fairly clear by this point that he was either weak or old. Possibly both. "I won't hold your subservience to the Empire against you, Myitt. As I understand, it was follow-or-die. To answer your question, I honestly don't know. After the war, I chose not to stay with my people. Self-centered as it may be, I didn't need them, nor did they need me, and I went to forge my own path in life. But that's another story entirely." His tail slumps down beside him, now hanging over the back of the armrest. "The last I heard, the Hork-Bajir populace on Earth was slowly recovering. But that was long ago."
-
The main cabin of the Bug Fighter is impeccable, and obviously lived in. There are wall to wall cabinets, each one labeled in Yeerkish, many seeming to contain electronics, while others have typical living necessities. A small, narrow bed has been pushed against one wall, neatly covered in a blue quilt.
Cameron is nowhere to be seen, but from the engine room comes a small whimpering sound.
-
'That was my boss, just wording me up on some idiot that I've had a couple run-ins with in the past. If we cross paths again, I'll make good on my promise to him this time.'
Hunter quickly orders another rum from the BT with a slight raise of his hand.
'Decided to stop in at the bar after tracking a bounty for a couple of months over three different systems. Some well needed "R and R".' He says to Merc with a chuckle.
-
<The last leg....? Oh, I see. You're from my future, or a future. I promise you the war rages on where I'm from. Earth is being secretly infiltrated by the Empire. I have no knowledge of these events you speak of. Human genocide has never been discussed as far as I'm aware. Earth isn't even a focus of my People at this time...I believe that to be a grave mistake, but the fleet has been all but devastated. We don't have enough ships to cover everything. Even now the Tyrennian is on patrol.>
He falls silent for a moment, closing his eyes as he remembers Seren. <Do not presume to know me, Nepek. You seem to assume a great deal without knowing even an inkling of my past.> He pauses, his voice still calm, as he crosses his arms, locking eyes with the Hork-Bajir. <I know EXACTLY what it's like to be a controller. Host to a sadistic Sub-Visser who used the classified intelligence he pried out of my brain to become a high-rank Visser. He laughed as he took what he wanted...derided my futile attempts to control even the smallest part of my body. He delighted in my frustration, and in my failure to protect that information.> A calm blue fire seems to smolder in his eyes, but he resists ascension. <I would likely still be a controller if it wasn't for her.> He ****s his head toward Jeffrey's body, indicating Myitt. <So before you step up to your podium of righteous indignation again, perhaps do some research on the target of your ridicule first.>
-
There was a creepy immediacy to the type of control Ossanlin and Nepek described. An immediacy that was completely foreign to Jeffrey. The type of control that he can exert on a person's mind is very different. He can convince them to believe certain things, but he can't really predict how what he does will affect them, or how they will interpret his command. Rosie was stuck going to visit the doctor every day and repeating the same speech word-for-word to that doctor every day, all because he had initially delivered the speech in that way to try and convince Rosie to get a check-up at all. <<...the mind is a weird instrument, yeah? I can make neurons fire that wouldn't have, but I can't tell them where to go. I feel like I have a hammer and I'm trying to thread a needle with it. To have a Yeerk's control......I can't even imagine that.>>
Before Jeffrey can think on it further he is shunted back, rather reluctantly, to the warehouse. Experiencing that lack of control over his own head is interesting. <<...yes...I've killed, actually...directly or indirectly...a lot of people. For my plan to work, at one point Draconis had to kill every last Field Isolator in the Dome. Field Isolators cancel all superpowers in a certain radius around them, so they were naturally immune to my powers. That was probably what made up everyone's mind to kill me, in the end.>>
Jeffrey tries to push out the invasive hum of the distorted thoughts that are proud of the extent of his reach as a supervillain, giddy with the rush of snuffing out someone's life, longing for the dance of death he so often played with the people of the Dome. That's not me. You're not me! You're a disease, an infection. When his mind clears, he has other ideas. <<Haven't you killed people, Yeerk? You might not have ever been in my shoes, really, no--- But you had to make choices like that, too, once. Still have to, probably, in this rebellion of yours. Choices that end with a dozen people dead, and no way to run from that.>>
-
<<Yes,>> says Myitt simply, and although she can hide her thoughts and memories from Jeffrey, she can't hide the wave of guilt and grief that washes over their shared mind. <<You weren't a murderer, once. You actually...weren't all that bad. This disease...it made them kill you.>>
She stands, frozen, eyes tracking, in front of Nepek and Ossanlin. Jeffrey's brow furrows, and she glares down at the floor.
<<You don't want this kind of control. I don't want this kind of control. I never wanted it.>>
--
Tara veers in the direction of the engine room on Dalik's ship. "Cameron?" she tries. "My name is Tara. I promise I won't hurt you. I'm a friend of Dalik's." She winces, itching her arm. It was a lie, but the girl was clearly attached to Dalik.
Weird ass Florence Nightingale kind of ****, she thinks, and feels a momentary pang of emptiness.
-
<<Tch. Does it matter that I didn't start as an ****, if the end result is an ****? Nobody starts crazy, Yeerk--- They get crazy over time. And it's true--- Every time I use my powers, I get crazier. >> Heehee, crazytown bananapants, Bonkers McFuzzbit, eighteen marbles short of a twenty marble pack! HaHA! <<But, ehehe, doesn't really matter does it? Nobody wants to know that kind of thing about people like me, it makes 'em uncomfortable! It's like the Wizard of Oz! If you know the trick, you can't be scared of him anymore. >>
Jeffrey seems to smile internally. <<But I guess that's your curse, isn't it? You're stuck with that information about everyone you possess. And you...>> Surprise washes over Jeffrey. <...saved White Knight over here, and didn't hate your frizzy-haired friend, and tried to make it better for the Yeerks despite knowing all that. Despite knowing what jerks most people really are. You even felt bad...for me. >>
Jeffrey is quiet for possibly the first time since Myitt arrived. He doesn't know how to process that. He couldn't ever think the same way, not even when he was whole. He couldn't be optimistic enough to assume that without the oppressive government around the people would do the right thing.
-
A slow grin spreads across Jeffrey's face, and to anyone outside of their shared mind it would look altogether strange - a well-dressed man, staring blankly at the ground, grinning sharply at nothing in particular, while people around him had an involved conversation.
Reading Jeffrey's thoughts, Myitt replies, <<Sometimes people are scared out of their minds. Frightened out of doing the right thing. Sometimes what they're told is the right thing...just plain isn't. But it's hard to escape that sort of group-think, isn't it? It's hard to go against the grain. And when doing that actually threatens your life and your livelihood, what's more insane? The status quo, or the rebellious act?>>
Her slightly unhinged smile fades, and she snaps her head up, blinking.
"Sorry," she mutters in Jeffrey's voice, scratchy from disuse. "What'd I miss?" She looks between Nepek and Ossanlin.
-
<<...I think I know what you mean. In my world, people like your Tara--- People without superpowers--- Are treated really badly compared to the people who have 'em. Part of that's just because they're weak, you know? They're not charismatic enough to compete with an Esper, not resilient enough to match a Regenerator, not as fast as my Dere--...as Static. The twits can't compete! But part of that is just because people are told that about Mundanes, and not because it's true.>>
He'd never had time before to really think about it. He wondered if the Yeerks had the same problem, about the species they infested. They just accepted as a matter of course that infestable species were lesser beings and ignored all the evidence showing they weren't.
Jeffrey then watches, and waits to see how the conversation between the two old war veterans progresses.
-
Jeffrey's teeth grind together.
<<I was like that, too,>> she says, quietly smoldering. <<I was like that once. Maybe I still am. That makes me the weak one.>>
-
The engine room is dark, the engines silent. Residual heat hangs in the air, making the room humid.
Cameron is sitting on the floor near one of the panels, her knees drawn up to her chest, arms hugging them close. She looks up at Tara when the woman enters, brown eyes wide. Her expression is otherwise blank. Not scared, not suspicious. Just blank. As if she's forgotten how to manipulate her features to reflect what she is feeling.
She doesn't say anything, but the muscles of her shoulders tense up as the stranger comes closer.
-
Nepek takes a sip of his almost-forgotten water. "Well," he says, "you must be from a different timeline from my own, because as far as I'm aware, there as only been one Andalite-Controller." He looks away from Ossanlin and his eyes scan around the bar. "Seems like this is the right place, then. I've heard of a location where entities from different timelines can coalesce. Never thought I'd actually come across it. . . ."
His eyes snap back to Ossanlin, as he seems to be focused again on the topic at hand. "Regardless, you expect me to know about your life? My dear Andalite friend, we have only just met, and if I'm correct, we may not even exist in the same universe." The sarcasm and venom contained in the words, "dear Andalite friend" were almost palpable.
"But I can empathize. I know what it's like to have been a slave to the Yeerk Empire, and it sounds like our experiences were one in the same." He takes another sip of his water. "I can empathize," he repeats, "but that doesn't mean I agree with your stances."
* * *
"Damn," Merc says quietly. He looks over at Rathien, whom he had been unintentionally ignoring for some time. "You weren't kidding when you said these Hork-Bajir have beef with Andalites." Was Merc wasn't privy to the knowledge of a Hork-Bajir's superior hearing, he likely would have lowered his voice even more. "These guys are at each others' ****in' throats."
-
<Indeed, times and realities converge here according to a superior will.> He directs a stalk-eye at the BT momentarily. <My time as a controller was blessedly short-lived. There have been others...one known as Terenia inhabited an Andalite known as Efaen. And they are not the only example. Why the Empire kept Efaen a secret I can only presume. As for me, no officials knew I'd ever been infested. Upon inhabiting me, Seren came to this place immediately with grandiose ideas of spreading his Empire across other realities. It was here that he was promptly removed from my head in less than a feeding cycle.>
He shakes his head minutely. <What I expect, Nepek, is for you to avoid making specist generalizations and assumptions about me and my character without knowing anything about me. I had not even spoken to you, nor you I, before you spat venom and hatred at me. You say I expect you to know me when we've only just met? Of course not. It was you, Nepek, who spoke as if you knew every detail of my life and every working of my mind, condemning me for those things which you assumed about me of your own volition with no corroborating information whatsoever.>
He shakes his head again. <My stances? You don't even know my stances. You merely assume that because I'm an andalite, that my stances are somehow predetermined, as if I am not an individual with my own free will. I came over here merely to chat...to be cordial, perhaps start up a conversation. And in so doing, diffuse any situations perceived or otherwise. I came over here because I am interested in you and I was interested in getting to know you. But if you can only see along stereotyped species lines, something you are likely assuming I do despite the fact that I've just told you that one of my most trusted friends is a Yeerk, and that I've been friends with other Hork-Bajir in my past...then my efforts are nothing but futile.> He pauses, shrugging his shoulders. <It's almost absurd enough to be comical...a member of one species accusing another species of being specist without realizing that they themselves are the true bigot.>
* * *
"Hmmm...yeah...some bad blood. But fun to watch." Rathien chuckles a bit. "I'm amazed, quite frankly, at how calm they're both remaining." He takes another sip of his drink. "'Course from what I know of the andalite, that's his style. He's pretty well-known to people who have the info. One of their prize War-Princes...the poster-child of the military. That level of control comes with being an effective officer. The conscience though...quite odd for an andalite. He'd be a tough hit to pull off...the Empire's tried." He shrugs. "The seer apparently also knows the value of keeping up outward appearances. Flying off the handle just ends up with you waist-deep in the mud."
-
Nepek contorts his face into a twisted grin. "That cuts deep, friend. If I had tear ducts, I would cry." Slowly, he stands up - not in a confrontational manner, rather as if to strech his back. Still, his height may be fairly intimidating, if not for his visibly weak muscles. "That's not the first time I've been told off like that. And if circumstances were not how they currently are, I would guarantee it would not be the last."
With a barely noticable limp, the Hork-Bajir walks over to the bar and places his empty glass on the counter. "The fact of the matter is, Andalite, I'm very old. In my years as a free Hork-Bajir, which at this point greatly outnumber those I spent as a Controller, I have had very few friends. One, to be precise. And that was a long, long time ago."
"I know I'm abrasive," he continues, the grin replaced by a bitter, empty stare into nothingness. "I know I'm what you would call a speciest. And yes, I know that's why I'm alone. Why I wander the universe without any direction." As Nepek rambles, it becomes clear that he's no longer talking to Ossanilin, but rather to himself. "If I were not any of these things, perhaps I would be better-liked. But I've grown tired of building a facade of friendliness, only for the other party to realize just what I am. 'An unrepentant ****,' as my old friend would have so eloquently put it."
He locks eyes with Ossanlin once more. "I don't tell you this to garner pity. I'm well past the point of deserving an ounce of sympathy. Hard as it may be to believe, I hold no real ill will toward you, despite what I said. In fact, believe it or not, I quite like you. You've kept a level head this whole time, which I must reapect. My outward personality, more than anything, is a means of protecting others from potentially being harmed by my true nature. And congratulations, by the way; I've never admitted that to anyone before."
Nepek takes a deep breath before issuing his closing words. "I know I'm an argumentative, judgemental fool. That is something that I can't change. And in my mind, it's best to make it obvious that I am an argumentative, judgemental fool than to feign affability."
-
"Hey," says Tara with a smile, approaching Cameron with slow, deliberate steps. She stops partway into the engine room. "It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you, kid. Like I said, Dalik is here."
--
Myitt clears Jeffrey's throat and addresses Nepek.
"Listen, buddy," she grates in English, before wincing and switching to Galard. "My friend here is right about one thing: He's my friend, and he's saved my life before and would do it again. He's not as much of a bigot as you think." She looks Nepek up and down. "Just how old are you, friend? I wonder if we ever would have crossed paths on your homeworld." She shifts Jeffrey's weight uncomfortably. "The population has never been exactly astronomical."
-
Dalik waits outside the ship, patting fretfully at his pants, wishing he had a Dracon. While he waits, he circles the ship, wincing at any stray sound. In the distance he can hear another ship land, but thankfully it's nowhere near his own.
Cameron's shoulders stiffen further. When Tara steps closer she opens her mouth and makes a sound that is somewhere between a cat-like hiss and growl. Getting her feet up under her, she crouches, face expressionless, eyes watchful. If she had hackles, they would be up.
The door to the bar swings open on squeaky hinges, admitting a young woman. Her blonde hair is tied back in a ponytail, kept out of her face. She is wearing a simple pair of jeans and blue tank top, exposing a burn scar across her right shoulder. At her hips is a twin Dracon holster.
She gives the room a cursory glance, her wary expression shifting to irritation and disdain when she sees the small group consisting of human, Hork-Bajir, and an immediately familiar Andalite. "Wonderful," she mutters under her breath. Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she moves to the bar.
"Dr. Pepper," she orders. Followed by, "Hey, you haven't seen Myitt around, have you?" The bartender, of course, does not answer. He simply moves to fill her order, presenting her with a notepad that she waves away. "Yeah, tab." She turns to glance back at the other patrons. Her eyes linger on the Hork-Bajir, then on Ossanlin, before she sighs heavily.
"Thanks," she mutters to the bartender. Drink in hand, she walks over to the group and plunks the glass down on the table. "Sorry to interrupt," she says unapologetically. Her eyes fix on Ossanlin, not bothering with a hello. "I'm looking for Myitt and Tara. You seen them?" To the unfamiliar Hork-Bajir and human she adds, "Kinda short human with brown, scraggly hair. She usually looks like she's either going to kick the **** out of someone or just finished sucking on a lemon. At least, that's how she looks when Myitt is with her."
-
"Whoa, it's alright," says Tara, backing up with her hands raised. "You want to get back with Dalik, huh? Let me take you to him, okay?"
Myitt, who didn't even notice Terenia walk in, bites back a retort.
She grins. "Good to see you, too, kid. You like my new outfit?"
With a finger she gently lifts the gray fabric of Jeffrey's suit vest.
-
Tara's words don't seem to do much to calm Cameron. The girl's gaze is intense as she growls again, then lurches forward, arms outstretched as she makes a clumsy tackle.
The blonde woman stares, then gives an incredulous laugh. "Myitt, is that you? What the hell are you doing? Who is this guy?" Suddenly alarmed, she looks around. "Jesus Christ, where is Tara?"
-
"Hey, what the ****!" Tara yelps, caught off guard as Cameron bowls into her.
They hit the ground in a rough tangle of limbs.
Myitt shrugs. "She's off finding Dalik the Prime's host in the shipyard. This ****ing place, huh? Hey, what's eating you?"
-
Ossanlin watches Nepek move across the room to the bar. <If that is how you wish to live, I'm not one to tell you otherwise. I will, however, quote one of my mother's sayings to you. 'Anger may cost you pain and arrogance may cost you your integrity, but kindness and respect are free.' In other words, there's no reason not to treat someone you've just met with kindness and respect. If you feel the kindness might mislead people, at least keep the respect. You can hate everything in the Multiverse and respect it all as well. The two are not mutually exclusive. Unsolicited advice and nothing more...do with it as you will.>
He nods at Myitt, eye-smiling a bit. <We owe each other our lives many times over...I've lost count.>
He turns his main eyes back to Nepek. <I am a War Prince and a Dome Ship Captain. I find that the outward appearance of calm collection is a great source of strength for my warriors. That and calm minds work better in hectic situations. Others can bluster and shout if they want...they can turn themselves purple in the face for all I care, they simply make themselves look like fools. Officers who use this tactic often do not have the respect of their crew. The crew of such an officer may follow orders, but nothing more. My warriors trust me and they trust my judgment. Respect is far more important as far as I'm concerned.> He turns a stalk eye as the door swings open. <It seems as though you also have practice at remaining...calm...>
His words cut out as the familiar human walks into the bar. His face becomes completely stoic, though his eyes clearly show his dislike for the person who just walked in. He remains silent as she orders a drink and comes over, speaking directly to him. <Terenia. How...lovely...to see you again.> His tone of thought is almost monotone and completely devoid of any emotions...a sure sign of Ossanlin's heavily concerted effort to demonstrate the principles he'd just been extolling to Nepek. <I have.> He says simply, in response to Terenia's question before Myitt herself speaks up.
-
Cameron responds with a wordless, bloodcurdling yell as they hit the ground. She scratches and claws at Tara, hands scrabbling at any bit of skin they can find. Her fingers wind their way into her hair and yank, and her booted feet kick at the other woman's shins.
"What do you mean, what's eating me?" Terenia demands of Myitt. "You ****ing ran off! Illim's been beside himself, your brothers are worried sick, and I pulled the short straw to make sure you aren't out here drowning yourself in redin."
She spares Ossanlin a quick glance and an arched eyebrow. "'Lovely' isn't exactly the word I would choose," she says blandly. Then she blinks, looking back at Myitt. "Wait, did you say Dalik the Prime?"
-
"I don't doubt that for a second," Nepek says to Myitt. "Biased as I may be, even I can understand a mutual friendship, such as the one you seem to have. Frankly, I'm a little jealous." He takes a seat at the bar, finding the stools to be much more accommodating to his biology than the armchairs. "And sorry to say, I doubt we'd have met on my homeworld. In fact, I've only been there for a very brief period. Most of my early life has been spent on Earth." He cracks a smile - a genuine one this time. "Oh, and I speak English," he adds, speaking in the language in question with a gruff chuckle.
Nepek barely lifts an eye as the newcomer enters the bar. However, as she speaks to Ossanlin, the manic grin returns to Nepek's face. Surely an unnerving sight, especially considering how a normal Hork-Bajir smile can make one uneasy. Oh, how he'd love to sit back and watch the Andalite explode. Obviously, Ossanlin did not like this human woman for some reason, and Nepek wanted nothing more than to see him angry at this newcomer. To exhibit that trademark Andalite hypocrisy . . .
"Dr. Pepper, hm?" he says to the blonde woman, the grin all but vanished from his face. "My old friend would approve. He always loved those sugary drinks." He very quickly brushes off his nostalgic musings. "Unfortunately, you seem to have interrupted our conversation, and one that I was quite enjoying." Why he was trying to deflect this stranger from the Andalite, Nepek wasn't quite sure. Perhaps he actually did like this Andalite more than he let on? Whatever the case, something the Andalite said seemed to have stuck a nerve. And the loneliness . . . god, at times, it was too much to bear. Never too late to give the whole "friends" thing another chance, Nepek tells himself.
"Perhaps you like to resume this discussion later," Nepek says to Ossanlin with a small nod. "But I don't believe I caught either of your names," he says, gesturing to both the Andalite and the newcomer.
-
Still seated at the bar, Hunter takes a swig from his drink and places his big mug down on the bar. Picking up his communicator and placing it back in his pocket, he rummages around a little, as if trying to find something in the deep inside pocket.
Removing a small, rectangular wooden box with a crude carving of two young anthro-Cubs playing on it, Hunter opens the lid and offers what looks like a small rolled cigarette to Merc while saying with a small chuckle, 'You look like hell man. Here, this'll sober you up.'
-
<<This Nepek guy seems like...okay, I did know a guy like him. This old guy named Floyd, although he didn't really show it. Precog. He was a little more on the reasonable side, but literally every Precog I've ever met had, like...This massive stick up their butt from being able to see everything that's going to happen in the future. And they took it out on everyone--->
Jeffrey cuts himself off and stops as soon as he sees the blonde girl walking into the Bar, a stranger. She asks for Myitt. He gets a sudden thrill of interest as Myitt strikes up a conversation with her. A grin would have formed on the edges of his face as Myitt touches his fine suit. <<Heheh, you've got good taste. Both the suit and the man are top of the line designer fabric, eh? You won't get a chance like this every day.>>
Ossanlin, the blue paladin, visibly stiffens as soon as he sees this "Terenia" (Because that was evidently her name) and talked to her like Jeffrey would with a Hero he was contractually obligated to work with for a few hours. Or maybe the same way you talked to that estranged cousin that you just couldn't stand to look at. <<...what the ****'s got up blue deer's butthole...? Say...>>
Jeffrey's voice shows some confusion. <<...who is this chick anyway? Somebody in the Yeerk resistance? Is that it? Tell 'er my name is Void V--->> He would have finished with "Void Valmont," but decided against it. <<never mind, Jeffrey Barnes, and that you're taking my body for a spin. And...whatever else you want.>>
Jeffrey was curious about when, exactly, the others were coming back however. Were they taking a long time to find the kid in the woods?
-
<<She's a friend of mine,>> Myitt tells Jeffrey blandly. <<Here. Take a look.>>
And Myitt's mind opens to Jeffrey in a deluge of vivid memories, some color, some a grainy sort of static.
A scene with Terenia arriving on base, years before, cursing Myitt out for forcing Terenia to do menial tasks under Myitt's own supervision. Myitt's frustration and anger and annoyance at having to babysit this human child.
Another dream-like switch to just a month or so ago, the two of them laughing darkly over an obscene joke over a plate of boiled cabbage.
A moment in the middle of a battle, red lasers lancing across the gleaming metal interior of a ship's docking bay, the noise so loud it's nearly deafening.
"Jesus Christ, she's still back there, she's going to get herself killed!" Myitt yells as she tries to maneuver a ship off the ground. Blinding pain as a shot hits her, so real it feels like Jeffrey's own guts have been eviscerated, but then it's gone.
And Myitt closes her mind back off again, and the sounds of the bar come back into focus, a familiar and comforting din around them.
<<Like I said.>> She turns her startled attention back to Terenia, who is yelling in Jeffrey's face. <<She's my friend.>>
"Alright, alright, already," Myitt grates, holding up both of Jeffrey's well-manicured hands. "I'm still alive, aren't I? I didn't drown myself in anything. And yes, I said the Prime. This ****in' place, am I right? I--" She pauses, gripping the back of the nearest armchair. A wave of the narcotic, brain-numbing effects of the oatmeal hits her hard.
"I'm fine, jeez, don't bother me." She brushes Terenia away, and in response to Nepek, whom she has almost entirely ignored, she simply says, "Too bad. I bet we would have got along. Heh."
"Help!" Tara cries at the top of her lungs, fighting back with all her strength, digging her own nails into Cameron wherever she can catch a grip. "Dalik, help me! ****! Get off of me, kid! Ahh--"
-
The blonde woman gives the Hork-Bajir a withering look. "Terenia," she says flatly. "Nice to meet you." She doesn't ask him for his name. Instead, she takes a deep drink of Dr. Pepper and turns back to Myitt. Her eyebrows furrow.
"Hey, what's going on?" She has a hand on Myitt's arm, gripping the fabric of Jeffrey's shirt.
Cameron doesn't let up, though she squeals angrily as Tara's nails dig into her side.
Footsteps thud on the ramp and a moment later William is standing there, breathless. Dalik stares at the two young women for a moment, then dives between them, grabbing Cameron by the collar and physically yanking her away.
Cameron turns to slash at William with one hand, then freezes, her body going stiff.
"What, by the Kandrona, do you think you're doing?" Dalik demands lowly of her, tightening his grip on her collar and shaking her a little.
She squeaks wordlessly, squirming in his grip for a moment, then falling limp, her eyes welling with tears. Dalik gives her a look of disgust and lets go of her collar. She falls to her knees and says nothing, skittering back to the corner.
"Are you alright?" Dalik asks Tara, bending to offer her a hand.
-
Myitt waves Terenia away again. "It's nothing. I'm fine, alright? Christ." She refuses to meet Terenia's gaze.
Tara, breathless, takes Dalik's hand and lifts herself shakily to her feet.
"Your little human...girlfriend tried to kick the **** outta me!" she cries indignantly, and she inspects the gouges on her arms. "I was just trying to help, and she threw herself at me like an animal. Take her back, before she starts hissing and spitting again. Ow..." She balances awkwardly on one leg, checking her shin for bruises.
-
Terenia's eyebrows lift. "Fine," she says, dropping her arm. "Then let's find Tara and go." She gives Jeffrey a critical look. "Jesus, you ****ing look like Dom."
"Girlfriend?" Dalik echoes blankly. Then he shakes his head, turning his attention to Cameron. She shrinks back, eyes darting from Tara to Dalik and back.
"Cameron," he says, pitching his voice soothingly. He inches towards her, holding out one hand, as if she were a stray dog. "It's alright Cameron. It's me. Dalik. I'm going to take you home now."
She makes a wimpering noise that ends in another low growl. With a quick swipe, she bats his hand away, then shrinks back again.
Dalik winces, then glances at Tara. "Okay," he says with a defeated sigh. "You're going to have to help me. We need to pin her down or get her in the restraints."
<<Preferably before she remembers she's armed,>> he adds dryly, darting a quick look at the Dracon still strapped to Cameron's hip.
<<This is a starship,>> William responds, awed. <<I'm on a ship made for the stars.>>
-
Myitt straightens Jeffrey's back and smiles.
"Yeah, pretty sure this one would give Dom a run for his money," she says dryly, casting a glance back at Ossanlin and Nepek before looking back at Terenia. "Tara will be fine. She's got my Dracon." In spite of herself she does glance at the door, worry creeping into her thoughts.
Tara sighs in exasperation. She draws the weapon at her hip and aims it at Cameron, checks the setting, and fires.
The sound of the Dracon shot in the reverberating ship's cabin is very clear, if a bit faint. Spooked birds - or something like birds - fly en masse from the surrounding treetops.
-
Merc eyes the cigarette suspiciously. "A rollie?" he intones. There's no doubt in his mind it isn't exactly a tobacco cigarette. "Eh, what the hell," he mumbles, removing the cigarette from the ornate box. "Thanks," he says before holding the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it via a spark from his finger.
* * *
Quietly observing the brief conversation between Terenia and Myitt, Nepek asks the bartender for another water. Clearly, these two had some sort of history, with Myitt apparently having disappeared without a trace. Nothing too out of the norm by Nepek's standards, but Terenia must have taken issue with it in some way.
His sensitive ears then pick up a small sound through the din of the bar. It's very faint, and it's been a long time since he'd heard that sound, but it's not an easy sound to forget. He looks over at Myitt and Terenia, and they didn't seem to notice. "Did I just hear ****ing Dracon fire!?" he says. It feels odd, since he usually doesn't use human swear words, unless it's framed as something his old friend would say. But this was no time to mince words. "Something one of you needs to check out?"
-
As Merc lit the rollie with nothing but his finger, Hunter said 'That's a pretty neat party trick ya got there.'
Removing one for himself, as well as a small lighter. He lights it and says 'Don't worry, it's nothing major. Mainly meds for my colour-blindness. You may feel floaty and colours would probably change but shouldn't be anything too serious.'
He chuckles as he takes a drag and blows the sweet smelling smoke up towards the rafters while placing the closed box on the bar.
-
Terenia blinks at Nepek, then glances to the door. "If someone is out there shooting I'm not going to run into the fight," she says firmly. She gives Myitt one more irritated glance, "Maybe you should figure out if Tara is off getting herself shot while you jack someone else's body." Rolling her eyes, she takes a firm seat across from Nepek. "You don't talk like a free Hork-Bajir," she observes, frowning. "You infested, then? What's your name?"
Dalik jumps at the Dracon shot, then stares down at Cameron's suddenly unconscious body, slumped against the engine panel.
<<What was that!?>> William yelps in alarm, thoughts dragged from the mysterious starship to the scene in front of him.
"Just what the dapsen hell do you think you're doing!?" he demands. "I can't reinfest her while she's unconscious. Now I have to wait until she wakes up and --" He cuts off, eyes narrowing at Tara. "Where do you get off shooting my host anyway?"
<<What was that?>> William demands again. <<I have never seen a gun like that before.>>
-
Myitt is barely listening to Terenia, already marching towards the door.
Her thoughts are closed off to Jeffrey once more, but a spike of panic runs through her.
"She was going to flip out again!" Tara protests, lowering the weapon. "You said to help, and I helped. She's not going to need pinning down now, so just go back into her and wait it out, man."
-
Jeffrey is of one mind with Myitt when the shot rings out, so he doesn't particularly mind that he's lost access to the interesting memories of her young friend. The other girl was clearly in trouble, and it felt just like it did when his daughter was in trouble.
As they cross to the door, Jeffrey send out a thought of his own. <<When you find them, sing a discordant note. It won't hurt them, no worries--- And it'll make them disoriented. Long enough for us to take charge of the situation. Don't worry about knowing how to do it--- I know how to do it. Same with using my powers, 'kay?>>
He didn't know why he cared. Possibly because he wanted there to be a point, or a use, to this event other than his own amusement and boredom. Granted the boredom relief was hardly anything to sniff at. This was the most exciting situation he'd been in since he'd died and entered the Bar. And to think that only the little game he had wanted to play with them had triggered it!
-
<<Wait...what?>> Myitt says blankly, pushing the door to the bar open and heading out into the twilight. <<You want me to sing?>>
-
"You want me to wait helplessly in an unconscious human in a place like this?" Dalik demands, William's cheeks reddening. "You could have hurt her! What setting was that on?" He goes to Cameron's side, kneeling beside her and brushing her hair back. Reaching over, he removes the holster she's wearing, fitting it around William's waist instead.
-
Merc's eyes widen as Hunter explains what exactly is in the cigarette. "Holy **** dude," he mumbles. It was probably safe to assume that Merc was already feeling the effects of the drug. He looks at Rathien - to Merc, the Ildari's normally blue hair is almost vibrant. "No kidding, man. Not nearly as intense as the **** I've done in the past, but it's pretty . . . pleasant."
* * *
"Not a Controller anymore, Miss Terenia," Nepek says. "Haven't been for a long time. Back then, I would have answered to Sevv 826, but as I am, you can call me Nepek." He nods his head in a how-do-you-do sort of gesture. "I'm sure you've heard stories of Hork-Bajir seers before. . . ."
-
<<Only if you're in trouble!>> thinks Jeffrey cheerfully, as if he was glad to be going into a potentially dangerous situation with nothing more than his knives. <<My voice can act as an unpleasant noise or sudden shock when you pitch it correctly. I figured it out a couple of years ago.>>
<<Or you could just yell at them to stop. That too!>>
-
Taking another drag from his smoke, Hunter then places it in the ashtray that the BT had placed on the counter when he collected the few empty cups.
'Pleasant is an interesting way of putting it.' He said as the medicine slowly started working, giving him a proper view of everything and everyone in his field of view, while a slight floating feeling set in, making it feel as if he's not even sitting. From Hunter's perspective, the differing shades of brown, green and grey all slowly becoming their proper colours.
Picking up his near-full mug from the counter, he takes a swig and places it back on the bar, while slightly swaying on his stool. Wow he thinks I'm a little tipsy.
Hunter lets out a huff of a laugh and says 'Well, this'll be my last drink for a little bit. Can't handle booze quite like I used to.'
-
Terenia's eyes narrow quizzically. "One of the smart ones, yeah?" she asks. "I thought they were a myth. Every Hork-Bajir I've met is dumber than me." She gives a dark laugh and picks up her drink. "No offense."
-
<<No offense,>> says Myitt dryly as she walks across the gravel parking lot, boots crunching. <<But I'm just going to yell.>>
--
"It was just on stun, alright?" Tara snaps. "I wouldn't hurt her." She turns to the hatchway, suddenly and quietly alert. "Someone's coming."
-
Jeffrey watches at Myitt crosses the parking lot and heads towards the outskirts of the asteroid. It occurred to him that almost nothing about this place made any sense. How could a forest be growing on an asteroid with an atmosphere so thin that they could see the stars right over their heads? Billions of points of light, of too many colors and shapes for him to name. He had never seen anything like the sight of it before, not even during the Heroes and Villains Ball when the Upper Dome put up the night sky simulation. They obviously had bigger things to worry about, but he thought he'd make a note of it.
<<Look up later, if you can, after we've made sure the kid is alright. ....it really is beautiful, after all.>> ...Ellis Straylight had shown his Rosie the true night sky, once, from a place in the Dome's wiring system known as the Pulse. It was midway between the Upperdome and the Underdome. He had been so jealous, then, that it had not been him who had shown her. He wondered how they were both doing, after they had killed him.
-
"None taken," Nepek says with a gruff chuckle. "To be fair, I still may be dumb as a rock, as some would say. Student's only as good as his teachers, after all." He winces slightly as a small tremor runs through his hand. Well, that's new.
"Enough about me, though," he says, returning his attention back to Terenia. "I noticed that you and our Andalite friend there seem to have some history." He gestures to Ossanlin. "Care to tell that story?"
-
"It's a long one," Terenia says, giving the Andalite in question a narrow glance. Ossanlin seems content enough to ignore her for the time being, and she isn't about to provok him. Not so soon after arriving, at least.
"Suffice it to say, I have a general dislike of most Andalites," Terenia says, wrinkling her nose. "Not all, mind you. There are a few decent ones at the rebellion. But as a whole, as a species, they're generally pretty messed up." She gives him a broad smile. "Not that you'd know anything about that, being Hork-Bajir and all. The Andalites only ****ed up my life, they ****ed up your entire race. "
"You could have given her a concussion," Dalik seethes. He stiffens as Tara turns. "Well now I'm definitely not returning to her. You see? This place is far too dangerous to allow myself to be in an unconscious host."
He rearranges the holster on his belt. William's waist is a good bit larger than Cameron's, and it takes him a moment of adjusting before it sits right. Even then, it looks out of place against William's homespun white shirt and plain colored, 19th-century style britches.
<<How does it fly?>> William asks suddenly, his own thoughts less focused on Cameron. The other woman had said she would be fine, and he could tell she wasn't lying. The ship, though, that was worth his attention.
<<There are no sails,>> he presses. <<Does it ride the air currents? How? I've seen a steam engine before. Does this use similar properties?>>
Dalik can't help but roll his eyes a little as he creeps closer to the hatch, following Tara. <<You try to run a steam engine in space and see how that goes.>>
<<What then? Coal? Air currents?>>
With an exasperated sigh, Dalik pushes William's incessant questioning aside. "Who is it?" he asks Tara, one hand holding the butt of his Dracon, ready to draw it if necessary.
-
Myitt pauses in the middle of the shipyard, peering around in the semi-gloom.
"You're right," she whispers aloud. "It is beautiful." She spares the stars a glance. "We'll have an astronomy lesson...later."
Distracted by Jeffrey's thoughts, she walks on through the gravel lot, weaving between derelict ships.
--
"Don't know," says Tara tersely, leaning cautiously out the hatchway, a few feet from Dalik and Cameron, now. "Once they see us lit up like this, they'll notice us."
-
<<Hey, check it out, yeah? There's some kind of light out there.>> She had to see it. I mean, he was looking at it.
<<Think that's what we're looking for? Be ready to rock in five Han Solo--- Five seconds, really.>>
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A glimmer of light shot across the sky above the Bar for a moment, and then grew until two ship headlights could be seen. The source was a Bug fighter, although the craft looked like it had seen much better days. There were spots on both the hull and even the glass where signs of last-minute patch jobs could be seen, and the red glow of the engines was far dimmed as compared to Imperial factory standard. But nonetheless the fighter did its job, puttering down for a landing in one of the open parking spaces near the Bar. The Bar waited in a near-anticipatory silence. These two were known for making things more interesting.
Keshin flipped off the last of the dials on the ship's bridge (Or what passed for one in a Bug fighter) and sighed, rubbing a hand through Joanne's messy mane of brown hair. "****," he said, pressing a button on the console to power down the fighter and another to open up the ramp to the outside world. "I can't believe I let you talk me into coming back to this little slice of hell."
<<Oh cumon, Kess! It ain't gonna be so bad! One round a' drinks for the road, an' we're good to go, y'know? >>
"Maybe," said Keshin, smiling despite himself and hopping with a thud onto the ramp. The two of them walked out into the always-perfectly-brisk night air of the asteroid, minus the exhaust coming from the other ships. Keshin looked around with a hint of interest. <<More people here than usual, today.>>
<<How can you even tell? Y'know some of these damn ships've been here for a Gen.>>
<<Some of them look nearly fresh. They haven't rusted.>>
Keshin started off in the direction of the Bar, keeping up a fast pace. Being outside the building had never exactly gone well in the past for either of them.
-
<<What?>> Myitt, distracted by the search for Dalik's ship - or any sign of Cameron and Tara at all - blinks into focus as the light cruises across the sky.
She stares a moment. <<It's a Bug fighter,>> she says, Jeffrey's lips quirking into a frown.
As the ship settles down yards away, near the front of the bar, Jeffrey's stomach twists. <<Don't like it.>>
Myitt looks back out at the shipyard.
She cups her hands to her mouth and yells, "Cameron! Where the hell are you?" Swallowing, she pauses and adds hoarsely, "Tara! What the ****, man? Where are you!"
---
Tara's eyes widen. "It's Myitt," she tells Dalik, turning back in towards the cabin interior. "Weird as hell. She sounds like some guy." She grins back at Dalik. "But she can help us move Cameron, or wake her up, or whatever you want."
-
Dalik winces, then narrows his eyes. "Does she have any adrenaline cylinders?" he asks. "Because if not, I'm not interested." He glances back at Cameron, still unconscious on the floor, then back to the open hatchway. "Besides, that guy she infested gives me the creeps."
-
<<Dammit, are they trying to flipping avoid us? Is that it? How easy can it be to hide in a shipyard? I mean granted it's bigger than you'd think, but still! It's a mall's outside parking lot!>> Jeffrey gets the vague impression that the thing expanded and contracted depending on how many people it expected to come. Myitt had seen it smaller before.
Jeffrey sees, at a slight distance, a woman walking purposefully toward the Bar. <<Huh. Not her. Different outfit.>>
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Keshin continues to cross the shipyard, disinterestedly noting that there are other people on the grounds out of the corner of his eye.
<<Not interested?>>
<<Not yet. We're better off surrounded by drunk people, and anyone still outside is currently sober.>>
-
Myitt freezes. "No ****in' way," she breathes, staring back in the direction of the bar entrance.
Slowly she turns back to the ship. "Tara! Cameron! Jesus--look, it's a...it's a ****ing...turelek situation, okay? Get out here!"
--
"Uh..." Tara steps back and nods to Dalik. "I gotta go. Now." And she disappears out the hatch and down the ramp.
-
Dalik freezes. "Did he say turelek?" he demands, but Tara is already gone. He curses, unholstering the Dracon. A quick glance back assures him that Cameron is still unconscious.
<<What's a turelek?>> William demands.
<<Nothing good,>> Dalik responds, following Tara off the ramp. When he reaches the bottom he glances up and calls in Yeerkish. The ramp retracts and the hatch seals tight.
<<What about the girl?>>
<<I'll reinfest her later. I locked the door and she can't speak Yeerkish well enough without my help,>> he says, turning to look around the shipyard for Tara. <<There's no way I'm sitting in an unconscious host while a turelek wanders about.>>
Jumping into motion, he hurries after Tara, weapon at his side.
-
"Myitt!" Tara calls, jogging up to Jeffrey. "Let's get the hell outta here, yeah?"
Myitt draws Tara into a quick hug. "Don't run off like that, kid, you scare me half to death," she says affectionately. "Who got shot?"
Tara shrugs. "I just stunned her. Cameron. She...wasn't cooperating." She smiles sheepishly. "So. Anyone we know?"
Myitt glances back at the front of the bar. "Yeah," she says flatly. "Someone I have more than a few words for." She starts back toward the bar.
"Wait, what?" Tara stands there, stupefied. "You're not seriously going towards the bounty hunter? Myitt? Hello! That's the opposite direction! Myitt!"
And she jogs off after her.
-
<<What's a turelek, anyway? And why are we trying to catch up with this one? You mentioned something about a goddamn bounty hunter? Normal people run to things we're trying to get and away from bounty hunters.>>
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Keshin continues to walk at an even pace towards the Bar's entrance, unharried and calm. It was always a clear night at the Bar, and it was nice to be in less of a hurry than he normally was. <<So far, a conspicuous lack of random chaos. Excell--->> Keshin's ears perk up as he suddenly turns around, coming face to face with...some guy? He's well-dressed and looks pretty angry. Following him at a distance was, clearly, Myitt One-Nine-Five.
There was an internal eyeroll. <<Christ. You were sayin'?>>
<<It was your idea to come here. Did you forget that in the past twenty seconds?>>
<<....>>
Keshin adopts an almost reflexive smirk on his face, one hand on Joanne's hip.
-
<<You're looking at a turelek, kid,>> says Myitt flatly, as they approach Keshin and Joanne. <<This one, I've got words for this one.>>
Tara, out of breath, weaves around the last of the ships and after Jeffrey and Myitt, still a few yards back.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Myitt demands of Keshin and Joanne. She jabs a finger at them, Jeffrey's eyes narrowing coldly. "You have some nerve, showing your face here after what you did to Hadrin. I outta wipe that smug look off your face, do you know that?"
Tara paces to a stop next to Jeffrey, holding her knees. She gestures with an index finger for them to pause the conversation, though she just focuses on breathing, head down.
"Goddamn I'm feeling that..." She swallows. "...last surgery."
-
<<This lady's pissed you off at some point, huh? Killed a guy. Heehee, Boba Fett and his murder gun--- >> Jeffrey cuts off the thought before it continues.
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Keshin is a bit flustered. His confident posture wavers. "Wait, what? I don't even know you. Are you from the rebellion? I didn't think rebellion members dressed like that. ...I mean how would you even be aware of the fact that I killed---"
Keshin pauses. "...ah. Are you two separated?" He pointed between Jeffrey's head and Tara's body.
-
Myitt hooks one of Jeffrey's arms under Tara's and helps her friend up. "Here, stop running so much, you're gonna make it worse," she murmurs gently.
"Don't run off and make me have to chase you!" Tara protests, making eye contact with Keshin. She salutes him. "Hi. Yeah, she's in this guy." Tara stands fully and pats Jeffrey hard on the back.
-
Keshin raises an eyebrow. "O...Kay then," he says. He smiles at the absurdity of it all, for a bit. "Fine. With that in mind..."
Keshin sighs. "Myitt, it's a Bar. A Bar I was nearly killed at during that incident, I might add. I have come to relax, not for a job, and for that purpose I have as much right to be here as anyone."
-
<<Yes, she pissed me off,>> Myitt murmurs to Jeffrey. <<She killed my friends.>>
Her lip curls as she addresses Keshin. "Not while I'm here. Come on, Tara, let's go."
-
Tara has a head start, but William's long legs allow Dalik to catch up quickly. He skids to a stop just out of sight of the small group, ducking behind a battered ship hull.
<<What in the name of God is going on?>> William demands. <<I thought you wanted the girl back! And really, I'm getting quite tired of having you in my head. You're welcome to leave anytime.>>
<<Hush,>> Dalik responds icily. <<Let me focus.>> He listens to the conversation, eyes closed as he tries to place who is talking. He recognizes the gasping breaths of what must be Tara, after her run. The other voice comes from Jeffrey -- so Myitt had made it as well. The third voice, female, is unrecognizable.
<<Turelek,>> Dalik hisses. His hand drifts to the weapon at his side.
<<Yes, I've gathered that much,>> William responds dryly. <<Care to explain what that means?>>
<<Assassin,>> Dalik clarifies, inching closer, straining his ears. <<Bounty hunter. They're useful at times, but utterly self-serving. They're completely lawless. They don't follow the Empire, the Peace Movement, or the rebellion.>>
<<So...free agents,>> William discerns. <<Isn't that kind of what you said you do?>>
A flush rises to Dalik's cheeks. <<It's completely different!>> he snaps.
-
<<Aw. Were these friends close?>> Jeffrey thinks. <<Or is it just a matter of revenge? Either way, if you want it, I can get it, but we probably oughta find that kid first, yeah? The other guys behind us seemed to have her in that ship they were in front of. Assuming that's still what you're up to.>>
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"Oh piss off Myitt," says Keshin, rolling his eyes. "We both know I didn't even know who I was shooting at when he died--- My target was that miserable little snot, and anyone who was in the way." Keshin sighed. "....I'm going up to the goddamn Bar."
<<I've always wondered though, Kess--- I mean why do ya even care what she thinks?>>
<<I don't!>>
<<Y'can't hide that ye're flustered in my head, Kess.>>
Keshin pushes open the swinging doors to the Bar in a hurry and gets a quick look around. He notes the Hork'Bajir in the cloak with some interest. That wasn't something that you saw every day, and the pattern was not Imperial. Keshin sits down at the Bar and looks up at the Bartender.
The Bartender smiles at them unexpectedly.
Keshin shudders. "My usual, whatever you are."
-
Tara, who hasn't moved, reaches instinctively for the Dracon at her side.
But she doesn't draw it.
Myitt, too, is frozen as Keshin turns around and marches back into the bar.
She sighs heavily. "Dalik, are you still out there?" And she turns to peer at the hulking shapes of the ships.
<<I don't care about the girl anymore. I just want to get out of here.>> An uncomfortable thought crosses her mind. <<Or get revenge.>>
-
Dalik hesitates, waiting until he is certain one set of footsteps are retreating, then steps out from behind the ship. "I'm here," he says. He glances at the retreating figure. "Who was that?"
"Talkative, aren't we?" Terenia says, lifting her eyebrows at the Hork-Bajir. "Don't worry, I'm used to it. Most people don't like me very much."
She finishes her drink and stands to get a new one just as the door swings open. "And, that'll hopefully be Myitt, back from her wild goose chase. Hopefully she's found Tara and we can get ho--" The words stick in her throat as she turns, her eyes landing on Keshin as he takes a seat at the bar.
Her lip twitches, grip tightening around her glass. "You," she breathes, the word too quiet to be heard by anyone but herself. The fingers of her free hand twitch, reaching for her Dracon. Moving away from the Hork-Bajir, she begins to close the distance between them.
"Turelek," she growls, more loudly. As she approaches, she realizes her hands are shaking. Her cheeks feel hot, and the rest of the room seems to have fallen away. "What the **** are you doing here?"
-
"An old friend," Myitt drawls sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Come on. Will you quit skulking around and get over here, please?"
Tara, ignoring Myitt and Jeffrey and Dalik and William, has her attention fixed on the door to the bar. She paces inside, hand still at her hip.
"You're, uh, popular here, aren't you?" she says with a smirk, sidling up next to Keshin and elbowing Joanne.
-
Keshin settles down into his Bar seat with a sigh, getting a better look around the establishment as he does so. <<The place hasn't changed much in a year, has it?>>
<<Kess, if a hun'red flippin' years passed I'm thinkin' this creepy dive will still have the same Bartender. And the same redin, even.>>
<<You're probably----- Oh you have got to be kidding me.>>
A chill runs down Keshin's spine as soon as he sees the woman who nearly killed every single person inside the Bar. Or, he supposed, his pursuit of her did. Keshin instinctively lets go of the front of Joanne's mind and Joanne's body tenses with anticipation. She notes the location and setting of their remaining Dracon idly.
"What the **** are we doin' here? The **** are you doin' here, sweetheart?" barked out Joanne, grinning. "Sure ain't to kill you, hun! We learned that lesson the first time! Never again are we takin' hits for a job we don' understand!"
<<Joanne, this might not be the best time to rub salt in that wound. Consider the other clientele.>>
As if to point it out, Tara appeared at exactly that moment. Joanne sighed. "Christ, what is this, the People That Hate the Bounty Hunter family reunion? I half expect Visser Thirty, even though he's dead."
-
Tara beams at Joanne. "Yep," she says brightly. "Looks like you're the guest of honor."
She wriggles her fingers. "Hello, Terenia."
-
Terenia's cheeks flush a darker red at the turelek's grin, and her fingers grip the Dracon more tightly. "Get out of here," she growls. She sets her glass on the counter, freeing her other hand.
She glances at Tara, her glare temporarily replaced with puzzlement. "What are you doing? Get away from her." A pause, then, "Tara or Myitt?"
"I'm coming," Dalik responds with a sigh, shoving his Dracon back into his holster. "Cameron is safe. She's locked on my ship. Your human decided to knock her unconscious." He gives her a look of disdain.
-
Jeffrey checks around inside the Bar from the front, from what he can see, and the new arrival who Myitt dislikes is surrounded already. <<Whoah, talk about being popular. Well, whatever. Look, if you want revenge, you're gonna have to get used to the equipment onboard, mmkay? I'm not all that strong, and I've got knives, not shiny Buck Rogers guns. I bet I could get her in the head even from here without her seeing us, though, if that's what you wanna do.>>
Jeffrey chuckles internally at the thought of blood sputtering from someone's brain as they hit the front of the Bar like a broken wind up doll.
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"Pretty sure Myitt's in some other guy we just saw," says Joanne, waiting at the Bar. The Bartender walks over, drops her drink in front of her, and leaves without another word. When she looks over in the next second, he has somehow gone back to cleaning his glass as if he hadn't even moved. <<It's like the dude has an idle animation that plays when 'es not doin' somethin'.>>
<<There was that smile earlier.>>
<<Let's pretend we didn' see it. Wanna come up to bat? I ain't the best negotiator.>>
<<Certainly.>>
Keshin blinks once as he comes to the front, staring out through Joanne's eyes. "Terenia, if you want to shoot us and make a scene, you can, but it's not going to be productive for either of us," says Keshin, standing up. "Why don't we just let bygones be bygones and have a ****ing drink? You know perfectly well that I would never take a hit on you again after what happened last time we tried. One of the nice things about being a turelek is that at least I never hold these kinds of grudges. I would be perfectly happy to talk."
-
Terenia responds with an incredulous laugh. "Let bygones be bygones?" she echoes. "The only reason a turelek doesn't hold a grudge is because everyone you piss off you usually leave dead." Her eyes flash angrily.
"You. Tried. To. Kill. Me." She enunciates each word, as if she must be talking to a moron. "You shot off my arm! Nevermind the people you did kill!"
Dalik peeks in behind Myitt and lets out a slow sigh. "That's the turelek?" he asks, sounding doubtful. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't Joanne.
He gives Myitt a fleeting, contemplative glance, then slips by her, brushing past Jeffrey and approaching the bar.
"Excuse me?" he says, clearing his throat, folding his arms over William's homespun shirt. "Hi. Tara, I'm pretty sure it's time for you to go back to Myitt. Before you shoot any more of my property." His gaze flickers curiously to Terenia, dropping to the Dracon, still holstered but held in a death grip.
"Right, okay," Dalik says, giving her a bright smile. "Hand away from the weapon."
"Who the **** are you!?" Terenia demands, grip only tightening as she takes in William's appearance, his long plaited hair and old-fashioned clothing a stark contrast to the holster around his waist.
Instead of responding, Dalik turns his cheerful smile on Keshin. "I don't believe I've caught your name. I'm Dalik 8755 The Prime. It's been a long time since I had the honor of meeting a turelek. Your kind don't come out of hiding often." He unfolds his arms and offers one hand.
-
"My human?" Myitt blurts. "Excuse me?"
She is still in a state of shock as Dalik brushes past her and into the bar. With a frustrated growl, Myitt follows Dalik inside.
Then she stops short, frowning at what has only become a bigger crowd around Joanne and Keshin.
Tara stares at Jeffrey. "It is still really ****ing weird, seeing her in someone else," she marvels, shaking her head. To Terenia she says, "Yeah, it's just me." She shoots Joanne a glare. "I can speak for myself, you know!"
She turns her scathing look on Dalik. "What is with everyone pretending I'm someone's goddamned lost puppy? I'm a human being, dammit!"
Myitt, lost in Jeffrey's internal visions of gore, paces blankly to the small crowd.
She clears her throat. And can't seem to stop glancing surreptitiously at Joanne's skull.
<<Don't kill them,>> she mutters. <<Not yet.>>
-
<<The longer you wait, the more unlikely that we're gonna be in a position where we can kill her though,>> said Jeffrey. <<She's kind of a tough-looking little woman, yeah? Or at least she'd have to be to gain the ire of like, half the building. Best way to do it would be to catch her off guard. Or, you know, sweet talk her into the ship and have fun with her, but you already told me you don't do that kind of violence.>>
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"Yes, the killer for hire tried to kill you," says Keshin. "You know that a turelek has to be hired by someone else. And in your case, that someone else was your twin sister. I have no reason at all to continue to pick a---"
Keshin is interrupted mid-thought by the sudden appearance of a well-dressed, handsome man. Keshin blushes despite himself. There was no denying that the stranger was nothing bad to look at. The stranger introduces himself as...wait, Dalik The Prime? <<She's dead. She has to be dead. That is what every rumor I have heard suggests.>>
<<Could be we've missed one, yeah? What, do you know anything about her?>>
<<...only that this one is gone, and Primes are old and dangerous. Sometimes they have peculiar ideas.>>
Keshin hesitates, but doesn't offer his own hand. "Forgive me if I'm less than trusting in a place like this, but well met, Dalik the Prime," says Keshin. "I am Keshin, let's say, 1568, the turelek known as Static Shock. Silly as the name is, there's a reason for it."
-
"Don't you dare bring my sister into this," Terenia snarls, stepping right up to Keshin and jabbing her finger at her chest, ignoring Dalik completely. "Don't you dare!" Her voice pitches upwards, shrill with her anger. "I should ki--"
The word is cut off with a choking, gagging sound, and for a split second Terenia is paralyzed. Then her mouth clamps shut and her eyes widen.
"I think that's enough of that." Her voice, furious moments before, is shaky now. Not scared, exactly, but certainly wary. Her lips twitch into a small, anxious smile and she takes a firm step back, dropping her arm.
Dalik drops his hand, then waits until Terenia's tirade is over before shrugging and addressing Keshin. "Static Shock is an odd name," he allows, but chooses not to comment further. Externally, at least. <<It sounds like a name from one of the comic books Cameron used to have.>>
<<Comic books? What are comic books?>>
Instead of answering, he gestures to the seat beside her with what is almost a slight bow. "May I?" he asks. It's only after he makes the gesture that he gives himself a slight mental shake. William's habits are distinctly more old-fashioned than Cameron's.
<<I think your assassin friend is endeared to me,>> William murmurs slyly.
Dalik blinks. <<I have no idea what you're talking about.>>
<<You're a terrible liar,>> William counters. <<I don't even need my abilities to tell your farce.>>
-
Keshin raises an eyebrow at Terenia's strange display. A slight, bemused smile crosses his face and he says, "Ah, so there's a Yeerk in that body now? How interesting. I didn't expect her to ever accept one of us in our head, given that we have given her nothing but traumatic experiences from the sound of it. You'll have to tell me the story later."
Keshin glances at the seat next to William and sits down, again, blushing. <<...agh. Joanne, what's wrong with us?>>
<<Renaissance hottie, Kess. Come on. Three rewatches of Ever After on Earth and you couldn' tell I like me the gentlemen in doublets? >>
<<Well we need to stop! We can't get distracted in a conversation with someone we don't know, who could decide to kill us in thirty seconds! That's also Dalik, you know.>>
<<Hehe.>>
-
<<No,>> says Myitt shortly. <<I don't do that kind of violence. What is wrong with you?>> She sounds horrified, even though she had just entertained the idea of cleanly killing the bounty hunter only a moment before.
Tara's eyes narrow. "Oh, there's a Yeerk in there, is there?" she echoes Keshin. "I never thought I'd see you in a place like this, Fayleth."
"Maybe we really should get back together, Tara," says Myitt aloud in a sullen tone. "This guy isn't doing great things for my sense of pacifism."
She clears her throat and gives Keshin a little bow. "You know, even though you're an ****, I always admired your skill." Myitt grins as she straightens her back.
-
<<Honey, my daughter's blood ensures none of us look it, but I'm old enough to have a teenage daughter. I've been nuts for longer than you've been living. That's what's wrong with me. We've been over this. Plus, I'm pretty firm in my belief that leaving your enemies alive will just bite you in the ass later. Sure, I'm the Crown Prince of Crime, but I only look like I live in a cartoon.>>
There was a good-natured chuckle, and then a saddened, <<Believe me, nobody wishes I did more than me. Then we'd all play games forever, and nobody would really get hurt---- death itself would die. As it is, all we get is a cheap imitation. If we stay here a couple days, you'll see. >>
When Jeffrey heard the comment from Myitt, he goes, <<Leaving already? Aww. It's been fun, Yeerk!>>
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Keshin smirks. "Many things dull with the passing of Time, but you'll be glad to know that isn't one of them."
-
Terenia's shoulders straighten, and Fayleth shoots Tara a glance. "And I never expected to see Myitt in a host who wasn't you," she responds. "I suppose neither of us know one another well yet."
To Keshin she offers a thin smile. "You'll likely agree as much as anyone that Terenia's tendencies when left on her own are a bit...well, destructive. She wanted me here, to help her." Her shoulders lift in a shrug.
Dalik watches Terenia with mild interest, but the blonde Controller is a stranger. He finds the turelek far more interesting than yet another rebel.
Sliding into the seat, Dalik waves the bartender over, ordering a fresh drink. He pauses, then on a whim, adds, "And another of what she's drinking," nodding to Keshin and Joanne. "On my coin."
<<So strange,>> he comments internally, struck by how easy it is to slip into a completely different set of habits.
While he waits for the bartender to retrieve their drinks, he listens to Myitt and Keshin. A small smile plays across William's face at the bounty hunter's words. "I'd love to hear more about these...skills of yours." Some instinct of William's leads Dalik to pause before the word 'skills', to emphasize it ever so slightly, to give Keshin the faintest of smiles and a quick, almost imperceptible glance down her body before returning his gaze to her eyes.
-
Myitt hesitates.
<<I could kill him now,>> she muses, smiling back at Keshin. <<That's what you're telling me. I can see it very clearly, you know. It'd be so easy to do.>>
Tara clears her throat. "Uh, Myitt? We doing this, or what?" She grins a little too exuberantly, giving those around her a hasty side-eye.
"Hmm?" Myitt says, blinking and looking over at Tara. "Just a minute, 'kay, kid?" She nods at Keshin. "Tell me what you've been up to lately. If we can't rewind the clock, we can at least move forward, eh?"
-
<<Exactly. Neither of them would see it coming. I don't get the impression you're the trigger-happy type normally. Five seconds caught off guard and you'd have your revenge, Yeerk. And while I can't say it exactly tastes as sweet as you expect, maybe it'll shake you out of being haunted. Chasing ghosts around doesn't change a thing, you know?>>
Damn if he didn't know that better than anyone.
<<But...it's up to you.>>
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Keshin raises an eyebrow with a slight smile. "Well. I wouldn't go so far as to say I am skilled in every domain. However, I am known for my speed and flexibility among bounty hunter circles. You might say I can get the job done efficiently and relatively quickly, although the reason they call me "Static Shock" has long since become mostly unusable."
<<Enough innuendo for one sentence, Kess?>>
<<This is your fault to start with.>>
Keshin notes Myitt's statement and sighs. "Same old same old, although it becomes more difficult with every passing day. We killed Visser Thirty not that long ago--- Yes we were involved with that--- And we retrieved supplies for various outliers and pirates across the stars. The money from the Empire is always a little better, but our leads on that end have been going stale." Keshin frowned. "...I think they're having to divert more funds to the Yeerk invasion of Earth. Something is going on over there."
-
"Let me guess," Myitt drawls. "More rumors about Andalites on that planet. Let me tell you, if there really were Andalites on Earth, don't you think we'd know about it?"
She looks Keshin over.
"Visser Thirty," she says dryly. "That was a messy job."
<<She would kill me, if she had the chance,>> Myitt starts to rationalize.
Tara stares incredulously.
"I can't believe it," she says, gawking at Myitt, then at Terenia. "Like they're old...like they're old pals, is anyone else hearing this?"
-
<<She would kill you if you got in her way. Everybody at the tables have been talking about how this chick's a bounty hunter, a smooth criminal and a smooth talker. If that's true, than the only difference between her and an assassin is assassins, the ones I knew, had standards. They'd only take certain jobs, the ones they like. A bounty hunter'll do anything and kill everyone, one minute your friend--- The next--- Your enemy.>>
Jeffrey's mind flashes to an image as soon as he says the word "assassin"--- A girl with monochrome hair, half-black and half-white, She was rolling her eyes at him.
<<Go right on ahead, Yeerk. You won't get another chance.>>
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"Not if they were any good at their jobs," says Keshin, a bit bemused, sipping his drink. "An Andalite Prince and a few Warriors with even an ounce of competence would be trying to keep a low profile. Although human taste buds might do them in."
Keshin glances a bit sideways at Myitt. "...Agreed on Visser Thirty, too, although it's not exactly appreciated. I made too many mistakes with my exit."
-
"Efficiently and quickly, unless it's Visser Thirty, then," Dalik says with a wry smile, shooting Myitt a glance before returning his attention to Keshin.
<<What's a Visser Thirty?>> William asks.
"Though I must admit," Dalik continues, "being able to ensure the destruction of any Visser is...well...many turelek would not even take the job. You must have been paid well." His eyebrows lift. "And you must be every bit as good at your job as you say you are."
The bartender returns with two glasses. He sets one in front of Dalik and the other in front of Keshin.
Terenia--or Fayleth--looks from Tara to Keshin, then shakes her head. "I'm not getting involved," she says firmly. "Terenia has gotten herself in more than enough messes in this place."
-
Myitt swallows, a strange chill coming over her.
I can't do this, it says, tremulously.
<<How do I do it?>> she asks Jeffrey in a cold and clinical tone.
Tara drops her arms to her sides.
"This is completely ****in' nuts," she says, exasperated.
-
Dalik takes a long sip of his drink, blinking in surprise at the taste of the ale. Cameron was too young to have developed a taste for alcohol, but to William's senses the heavy, dark drink is comforting.
Licking his lips, he chances a glance up at Myitt. "You alright?" he asks, frowning a little at her expression.
-
"Fine," says Myitt, off-handed, blinking somewhat out of her reverie. Inside Jeffrey's mind, she pulls up exactly which memories she needs to do it, before she loses the druglike nerve.
-
Jeffrey's memories show Myitt where his knives are and exactly how to use them to slit someone's throat and kill them within two minutes, as long as the person does not move to counter. <<They always say, 'Don't bring a knife to a gun fight,' but nobody gets that knives are faster, and waaaay more unpredictable. Nobody expects you to pull a knife when you're right in front of 'em, just like nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!>> Jeffrey giggles. He almost couldn't wait to see what would happen, to have his finger right on the pulse of the end of an ugly feud between space drifters.
<<End this. With this, they'll never kill anyone else's friend again. No one else has to die.>>
It was as if Mind Melter were, indeed, offering his hand so that Myitt could jump to his side between two buildings, his lips curled into a twisted smile and his body poised to strike, underneath a glimmering gold masquerade mask and flamboyant purple clothes. Void tries to turn away, but as always, he can't. The potential for bloodshed is too enticing to him.
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"I guess I'm a fairly popular bounty hunter in certain circles," says Keshin, adjusting his stance in his chair. He gives and Dalik William another look of appraisal, as if trying to figure out where Dalik is going with this. It isn't often that someone compliments the skill of a turelek. "And we have been at this for at least four or five years, and still aren't dead. You pick up a few things."
Keshin frowns at Myitt. "...wait. Is something wrong with that host? He does look a little strange, doesn't he?"
-
Ossanlin watches, raising his eyebrows at Joanne and Keshin making entry. How far they'd changed with the Rogue Element...how good they'd become. Should he approach them or not? After all, they had tried to kill him once. Most likely they were the same now as they had been back then, never having had the life-changing experiences with the Rogue Element. And yet, his eyes are open to the goodness these two could be capable of.
He takes a deep breath and trots over to the table where Joanne and Keshin, and Myitt are sitting. Terenia he simply ignores completely, filing her away as if she doesn't even exist. <Afternoon Joanne...Kess...>
-
Myitt struggles internally, faltering.
<<I...I don't know if I can,>> says Myitt weakly.
Some of the tension drains from her when Ossanlin approaches, and she gives herself a mental slap across the face. What am I thinking? she demands. This isn't a battle. This isn't like me.
"Yeah, I'm...I'm fine," Myitt breathes aloud, smiling shakily. "Sorry. Just...weird, being in this body."
Tara scoffs, stepping aside to let Ossanlin through. "Yeah, that's why I'm telling you to come back, duh?" She grins at Ossanlin. "Heya, Ozzy. Been a while since we actually talked."
-
Ossanlin glances at Tara, smiling a bit. <Hello, Tara. It has. Longer for you than for me from my perspective.> He attempts to not feel out of place...he'd felt out of place ever since the timestream shift. But every time he sees someone else from his other past, the feelings of regret and remorse creep back into him. Yes, he'd saved many rebel lives with what he'd done, but had he had the right to so change the lives of literally everyone? Joanne and Kess...Joanne had been cured and Kess had become a loyal friend committed to fighting for a cause instead of money, their need for Joanne's drug having evaporated with the curing of her condition. Perhaps....perhaps he could repeat that. Maybe, in this place, with his greater connection...
He shifts his gaze to Myitt and Jeffrey. <You should leave him, Myitt. He's insane. I've...glimpsed...por tions of his past and his character. He is very unwell.>
-
"Hmm?" Myitt looks over at Ossanlin, as if noticing him for the first time. "Yeah, I think...I think maybe you're right."
Tara waves her over. "Will you just quit waffling and get over here?" She eyes Ossanlin. "Do you see what I have to live with?"
-
<Grief is a powerful drug.> He glances back at Tara. <It can make you do things. Things you wouldn't normally otherwise do.> He shifts his eyes back to Jeffrey and Myitt momentarily before shifting back to Tara. <Myitt is not herself right now. And in her unstable, addled condition, being inside that is certainly not helping matters. His mind is...disturbing, to say the least.>
-
As Jeffrey's arousal nearly spills over his mind, something happens to change the direction of the impending chaos. Something he didn't expect. The...The Andalite--- Jeffrey kept mentally having to stop himself from thinking "DerekDerekDerek, Prospero, the paladin, The War-Prince..." This line of thinking was important, he knew it was, there was something to this that he didn't see, but it was like it was just out of his grasp---touching just the tips of his fingers. The same way he had felt when he was dead, and he met the Grey Lady.
But what mattered now was that the Andalite was attempting to stop him. Jeffrey scoffs. <<Tch, what's the blue deer know anyway? I mean you already went over the fact that he was gone for all of this, and hell he could've stopped all of it, with his magic Chronos powers---but he didn't. He didn't give a ****. Am I crazy? Sure! Is violence the answer? Well it's the fun answer. But am I wrong? I don't think so.>>
Jeffrey internally grumbles. <<But fine, okay, let the Master-****ing bounty hunter live to kill somebody else you care about.>>
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Keshin glances over at Ossanlin dubiously, a bit miffed. "War-Prince Ossanlin. Greetings. You know that I only let Joanne call me 'Kess,' don't you? And I'm certainly not familiar enough with anyone else."
Keshin follows Ossanlin's statements about grief and looks, a bit perplexed, at Myitt. He doesn't know what Myitt's been through since last he saw the Peace Movement, but whatever it was must have broken the iron-clad will of the sarcastic Yeerk he was familiar with. She seems off-balance all of a sudden, wavering, now that the Andalite has arrived. "Definitely weird," says Keshin calmly. "If you aren't feeling well, you should switch back as soon as you can, yes? We can always continue our conversation in more amicable bodies."
<<I don't like this. Wanna go on the defense, Kess?>>
<<I think that the Andalite has it in hand.>>
-
"My husband died," Myitt mutters flatly. Admitting that out loud again just sends another wave of grief through her, amplified by Jeffrey's bizarre and unnerving thoughts. She glances up at Keshin. "Would you rather I let him go free? He is..." She eyes Ossanlin briefly. "...As you say, dangerous."
<<I have control over this,>> she tells Jeffrey. Or herself.
She exhales shakily again, the tremors from...are they from Jeffrey? The oatmeal? The alcohol? Just barely there. Barely noticeable.
Tara snaps her fingers in front of Jeffrey's face. "Hey. Buddy." She points at her own skull. "Yes?" Her gaze wanders down Jeffrey's body. "If he tries anything, we'll take him. Right? We can totally take him."
Myitt's hand brushes against the form of one of the knives in Jeffrey's uniform. It was strangely comforting, and maybe more than that. Exciting? Enticing?
She swallows hard. "I had too much," she tells herself with a half-hearted smile. That's why. That's why I've gotta do it.
-
When Myitt says she is fine, Dalik frowns. "You're lying," Dalik says with utter certainty.
<<He is,>> William verifies.
<<I know. I don't know how I know, but I do.>> He watches Myitt's expression. <<He wants to cause pain. To the bounty hunter? Well, I can understand that, at least. Turelek don't make many friends. But why, exactly?>>
<<Welcome to my life,>> William says, amused. <<It's one thing to understand intention, it's completely different to delve into motivation. I can't do that. Not yet, at least.>> He pauses, letting that sink in. <<Now, the real question is, will you intervene? Or watch it happen? It may be fun to watch. It would be a shame to see the bounty hunter hurt, though. She is quite lovely, isn't she?>>
William's cheeks grow hot as Dalik sneaks another glance and Keshin and Joanne, catching the end of her response. Before Dalik can respond, Ossanlin shows up. Dalik closes his mouth, listening intently.
"I think Ossanlin is right," Fayleth says, finally having calmed Terenia's angry heartrate down. She glances at the Andalite, then at Myitt. "You should return to Tara. This new body...you're not accustomed to it. Besides, I thought you and Tara were inseparable. Why did you even infest this man to begin with?"
-
Myitt nods slowly. "I wanted to be with him," she says, convincing herself. She smiles at Terenia and Fayleth.
Then in a quick movement she draws the knife, using all of Jeffrey's skill and speed, point blank.
She has just enough time to marvel at how easy it was to draw the blade across Keshin's throat, before she questions what she is doing. The knife slashes toward and across Joanne's pale and unprotected skin.
-
<I'm sorry, Keshin...I didn't mean to intrude. I knew...someone very much like you recently. We were...friends. It was so unlikely that we were friends but he...they showed me that even the bitterest of enemies can become friends. And they showed me that even the most merciless turulek can have good hearts. I...trusted this friend very much.> He falls silent a moment, feeling the tension in the room. Something was definitely wrong. His stalk eyes continue to scan the room, but one catches Jeffrey making some strange motions. <Anyway, Keshin...Joanne...I just wanted to say I forgive y-...>
Suddenly Jeffrey's arm lashes out, metal glinting. Ossanlin whips his tail forward quick as lightning. He aims to slap the knife down to the table with the flat of his blade, but the human is fast and there's no guarantee that Ossanlin wouldn't hit the fingers or hand instead. In addition, the necessary speed would not guarantee that the blade hit completely flat, or that it would not at least leave a cut on Jeffrey's hand if it were to impact there.
Simultaneously he draws his Shredder set to high stun, moving to level it at Jeffrey as his tail strikes.
-
Keshin stares with surprise, and a hint of confusion, as Ossanlin told his story. There was something about the strange way that the Andalite was speaking that suggested that he did mean Keshin and Joanne themselves. But of course that was impossible-- While they had once met Ossanlin in the GESB, they had come to blows last time they met. He had harbored such venom for them.
<<Maybe he really did meet someone, you know? Sounds like this friend of his is dead though. Piss poor luc--- Hey, hold on.>> Keshin sees it, too. Myitt's movements in Jeffrey were very strange.
But before Keshin has time to react, and just as Ossanlin seems to be saying he forgives them, Jeffrey lunges out with his blade out of nowhere. Joanne turns away and tries to push herself back, but she has less than a second--- The knife cuts harshly into the side of Joanne's shoulder and part of her neck. It doesn't hit a nerve, luckily, but it is deep. Joanne cries out in pain and tumbles off the bar stool and onto the ground, her blood pooling onto the floor. Joanne looks up and hears a sound which she knows is the insanely fast strike of an Andalite tail blade. <<Ossan....lin?>>
In almost the same moment, Jeffrey's glee reaches its height as Myitt attacks, the rush of killing someone coming back to him. ...Killing someone. Egging someone on to kill a woman he didn't even know, just because it would be fun. Just because it would bring a little color back into his face. A nagging feeling tells him this is wrong, but it doesn't last for more than a second before it's swallowed by the rest of him. Jeffrey hears an impossibly fast *Thwapp* or whistling sound as something comes through the air towards his hand seconds later.
-
Dalik is about to respond to William's internal commentary, but a sudden blur of motion and spray of red stop him in his tracks. He watches in mingled fascination and horror as the woman he had been tentatively flirting with falls to the floor. He jumps back just in time to avoid being perilously close to the Andalite tail blade, scrambling for his Dracon.
<<What a lovely shade of red,>> William comments, his casual observation of Joanne's suddenly dire predicament almost more horrifying than the scenario itself.
<<What is wrong with you?>> Dalik demands. He unholsters his weapon, clutching it tightly with one hand. Rather than attack Myitt, though, drops to his knees beside Joanne.
"You're going to bleed out," he says, voice distant and strangely matter-of-fact. He hesitates for a brief second, then abandons his Dracon as quickly as he pulled it, shoving it back into his holster and tugging his linen shirt over his head.
<<Must you? I'll never get the bloodstains out,>> William complains. Dalik ignores him, balling the fabric up and forcibly pressing it to the wound.
Fayleth lets out a cry of alarm, registering the movement and injury seconds after it happens. She takes a step back, then freezes, goosebumps breaking out along her skin. The sight of a tail blade in motion, the turelek with part of its neck laid open, all of it sends Terenia's mind lurching into a memory she can't force back.
"You are not my sister," Terenia says, addressing a crying, begging human girl completely identical to her in every way. Fayleth senses Terenia's surprise that her voice sounds slightly choked, despite the fury that is forefront, "My sister trusted me. My sister loved me. She didn't try to kill me just for trying to protect her!" Terenia pauses, gasping slightly, and turns slightly away from the sobbing figure on the ground. "I set out to save you, to protect you. But I see now that you are beyond that." One hand balls into an angry fist, and for a moment it looks as if she is going to attack Tamora right then and there, weaponless and all, "I gave up five years for you!"
Then Terenia takes a step away. She glances over her shoulder, fixing Ossanlin with a steady gaze - accusatory, almost - as she begins to demorph. This remembered version of Ossanlin is different from the one in the bar today. He is in morph, watching the scenario play out. Nevertheless, Fayleth knows who it is, and can feel a low, simmering hatred for the Andalite, even as Terenia herself morphs. Her skin darkens and sprouts purple fur, her arms weaken and legs strengthen. Two additional legs protrude from her chest and her body shifts into two main segments. Stalks grow from her head and her mouth disappears. Her eyes lose their tear ducts, something for which Terenia is grateful. Finally, the last change appears. Her tail curves upward, the scynthe-like blade glinting dangerously.
During the morphing process the crying girl, Tamora of course, has not moved, except to shiver and cry. Her constant prayer of, "please, oh God please don't! Please...please..." heightens in volume as Terenia approaches in her Andalite form. To Ossanlin she gives a little nod; acceptance of her role as the one to pass judgment on Tamora.
<Sorry, Tammy,> Terenia says in a whisper, firing the muscles in her tail.
A Hork-Bajir tries to intervene, the force of his shove pushing her back. But it isn't enough. Every time she relives the memory, she wants it to be enough. It never is.
Terenia turns her gaze to Ossanlin's morphed face instead of the bloody, silent mess at his feet. She quickly begins to change, running from her Andalite self and returning to her human form - a replica built from Tamora's own DNA.
"There." Terenia says as soon as her mouth and vocal chords reform, "I hope you are happy, Andalite." Her voice is taut and stiff, her face blank. As she turns and walks away from the small crowd it is clear that something has broken.
"Oh, by the Kandrona," Fayleth whispers, her stomach suddenly revolting. She sucks in a breath and leans onto the bar, Terenia's vision swimming at the stark memory.
-
Myitt, driven by Jeffrey's bloodlust and adrenaline, is still driving the deadly force of the knife towards Joanne with all of Jeffrey's body strength.
Until Ossanlin's blade knocks the knife clean from his right hand, bruising it and opening a long slice on its back.
Myitt staggers, recovers, and turns her attention on him. She hisses, "Back the **** off, Ossanlin!"
-
Ossanlin finds himself lowering the shredder and starting to back away. After all this wasn't his fight....no...no no no. Damn those powers of suggestion. He levels his Shredder directly at Jeffrey's chest and squeezes the trigger, firing a sizzling high-stun bolt of Shredder energy straight at Jeffrey's body. <She needs medical attention.> His statement of the obvious doesn't seem to register to himself.
-
"Ossanlin, don't!" Tara cries.
The Shredder shot hits Jeffrey square, and Myitt finds herself abruptly crumpled to the floor, her temporary host out cold.
And in the seconds of hazy, dark silence that follow, Myitt whispers, <<What have I done?>>
-
Joanne gasps on the floor, desperately trying to retain consciousness. If she loses consciousness here, she might die, and she and Keshin are both abundantly aware of this. They have been here many times. Joanne looks up at Dalik desperately, scrabbling for his arm but somehow failing to even touch him. Joanne watches and winces as Dalik begins to attempt to help her, nodding rapidly, grateful that he took an action.
Joanne sucks in as many breaths as she can, trying to focus. What had just happened? Myitt...attacked her out of nowhere? And then Ossanlin stopped her, just moments ago....She can't form her thoughts together.
<<Focus on something, anything. Stay awake!>>
<<I...I can't...>>
<<You need to try!>>
-
<I have a fully functional medbay in the Mirage. Bring them.> Ossanlin glances at Tara. <You can take care of her?> He glances at Jeffrey's unconscious body. <Myitt, if you're still conscious, Tara will be looking after you.>
He glances again at Dalik. <I'm sure that host is capable of carrying Joanne's slight weight.> He holsters his shredder, turning toward the exit of the bar. He sends a thought-speech command to his ship, instructing it to lift off and land near the bar. The engine flares can be heard outside as the ship complies with his command.
-
Dalik looks up at the Andalite, the fingers of his right hand digging into the quickly dampening fabric of the shirt. His left hand has somehow found its way into Joanne's hair, pulling her closer, as if he could simply hold her together.
"I can, but if I move her she may lose blood more quickly," he says. "Do you have the technology to put her in stasis?" He doesn't move from her side, dropping his gaze back to her, taking note of her paling features, her distant gaze.
"Keshin," he says quietly. "You need to leave her. If she dies, you die. Get out while you can. I'll do what I can to save her."
-
Tara crouches next to Jeffrey, slapping lightly at his cheek. "Wake up," she says desperately. "Hey, Myitt, wake up! At least leave him? Myitt, can you hear me? Come back, please?" She bites her lip, shoulders sinking as she stares down at Jeffrey's limp form.
She looks over at Joanne, and at all the blood, and her stomach twists. "****," she says, looking up at Ossanlin and Terenia. "I--I can take care of Myitt, yes, but..." She nods at Joanne again, at a loss.
-
<<What! But I can't! I can't leave her alone! I can't leave her to suffer alone in--->>
<<Kess, it's okay.>>
Keshin's fear stopped in surprise.
<<...Because you're comin' back, right? You always find a way. You'd never leave me behind.>>
Keshin falls silent, and lets the pitch black darkness envelop him as he disconnects from Joanne's brain, and slowly begins to exit from Joanne's brain. Overcome by the most basic drive of the Yeerk mind--- The drive to live. Overcome with the feeling that Joanne could die, and that he was a coward, even though the cowardice was natural.
-
Rather than rail against the futility of being stuck in an unconscious host, Myitt resigns herself.
To facing the unknown outside of Jeffrey's head.
Tara will help. She won't let me down.
To facing the reality of what she's just done.
Really it wasn't that deep...was it?
To facing her own addiction.
Slowly, carefully, she disengages from Jeffrey's mind and worms her way out of his head.
Tara is waiting there, just like Myitt thought she would be.
She picks Myitt up and sighs, running a thumb gently along the slimy flesh. "You stupid jerk," she mutters, placing the Yeerk up to her ear.
-
"Oh, thank the Kandrona," Dalik murmurs as he sees Keshin's small, gray body protruding from Joanne's ear. He carefully shifts his left hand to catch her, glancing up at the others. "I need something to put her in." Then, more sharply, "Right now! Someone get me water! You!"
This last word is directed at Fayleth, who is still reeling from the horrifyingly realistic flashback. "What?" she asks blankly, her skin pale, each freckle standing out.
"Get water. Now." The fingers of Dalik's left hand curl protectively over Keshin's emerging body. His right hand remains firmly against the wound, sticky red blood working its way through the linen shirt and over his fingers.
-
He watches through the swinging doors as his ship lands. <I don't have stasis capabilities outside of the Tyrennian. I don't think she'd survive the trip. But if the blood vessel is not repaired, she will have literally no chance.>
As the ship lands, the ramp descends automatically. Ossanlin pushes through the swinging saloon doors, the ramp only a few steps away now that the ship has moved. He trots up the ramp and into the small medbay to the right, powering up the equipment.
-
"Dapsen," Dalik breathes as Ossanlin abruptly disappears. He turns his gaze to Tara, but she's stuck mid-infestation. He curses again. "Come here, take her," he snaps at Fayleth.
"You...what?" Fayleth is still staring at Dalik, even as the bartender places a shallow dish of water on the bar.
"Take. Keshin." Dalik speaks tersely.
<<If you take him,>> Terenia hisses to Fayleth, <<it will be to drop him on the floor and end his miserable life.>>
Swallowing, Fayleth reaches out, taking Keshin from Dalik's grasp.
"Thank you," he breathes. Moving cautiously, he gathers Joanne up in his arms. The motion shifts the fabric, allowing the wound to flow more freely for a brief moment and he winces, pressing her against his bare chest as he stands. "Alright, I've got you," he murmurs, using the same soothing voice he used with Cameron earlier. Once he gets his feet under him he follows Ossanlin's path, weaving past the tables and chairs of the bar and hoping he isn't too late as he pushes past the front doors and steps onto the Mirage's ramp.
-
Ossanlin engages the stasis field over the first table and starts the computer cycling production of an universal human blood supplement. He starts powering the computer and bringing up human medical data. He speaks in a broad thought that should reach the bar. <If anything happens to Keshin in my absence, I shall be very cross with the party or parties responsible.>
-
Myitt, finally in control again, goes from crouching to sitting. Heavily.
She sits on the floor of the bar in a daze, frowning at the gritty floor.
Wavering a little, she looks up at Fayleth and Dalik.
"She's still alive?" she croaks miserably.
-
Dalik glances back at Myitt. "Not for long," he says gruffly, then disappears through the doors, stepping onto the ramp and hurrying up. He doesn't pause to admire the Andalite ship, or to wonder at the absurd sequence of events that even led to the possibility of his presence on an Andalite ship, instead focusing on staunching the flow of blood. "Where should I put her?" he asks Ossanlin.
Fayleth doesn't respond to Myitt. She's staring down at the Yeerk in her head. So small, so vulnerable.
Ossanlin's thought-speak makes her jump and she looks up and around, fingers tightening reflexively. Not enough to hurt Keshin, despite Terenia's silent insistence that she squeeze just a little harder...
"Myitt," Fayleth says, trying to clear her head. "Are you alright?" She quickly deposits Keshin into the bowl of water, shaking her hand out and wiping the excess slime on her jeans.
-
Myitt stares at the floor.
"I...I don't know what came over me," she says. "I've never felt that kind of..." She trails off, looking up at Fayleth. Power?
Slowly, shakily, she climbs to her feet.
"There's no excuse for this." Myitt shakes her head. "None. Not even grief." She looks down at her hands; Tara's hands, smaller and thinner and more wiry than Jeffrey's. And she shudders, disgusted with herself. Why was it so clear, now?
When it was so right just moments before?
<<Hey, buddy,>> Tara soothes. <<You're gonna be okay. We'll get through this. I promise.>>
Myitt just swallows and nods, and whispers, "Will she, though?"
-
<Here.> Ossanlin gestures at the gurney. The lift field would hold Joanne at the perfect height on a cushion of force which would conform perfectly to her body. <I am only apprised of a field-medic level of competence, though thankfully that training included how to suture tissue. I only hope the knife was not poison-coated.> He prepares the suture bio-thread while he waits for Dalik to deposit Joanne's frame on the gurney.
-
Joanne gasps for breath and winces, her eyes welling with tears. Nothing makes sense right now. All she knows is that the Andalite is there, and she's in pain, and the man holding her in his arms is the only thing that really matters. As far as she can tell.
Joanne glances up at the man with a beatific, delirious smile on her face and says, "...Did you...become...huma n? Can...you touch me...at last...?" The man's physical features blur together with the vision of a human Keshin she had always dreamed of, but she then suddenly shakes her head. "No...No...You're not him....But....Help Me....Please Help me...." Her voice seems weak and soft.
All her energy is being put into not falling asleep. That was what Keshin told her to do.
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Keshin is alone, and he is in someone's hand, and he is scared out of his mind. He is blind, and deaf, and Joanne is alone and there is nothing he could do about it. All he could do was go over and over in his mind the scene: Jeffrey with the knife, and the War-Prince, and Myitt talking like they were old friends. <<How the hell could I have been so blind? That dapsen wanted to kill me the entire time.>>
Keshin resolves never to trust so thoughtlessly again.
-
<<Give me control,>> Terenia snaps. <<Give it to me!>>
<<Absolutely not,>> Fayleth responds, horrified by the power of her host's fury. <<I'm not allowing you to murder a helpless Yeerk.>>
<<She tried to kill me first! She's a turelek!>>
<<Did you learn nothing from Terliss?>> Fayleth asks incredulously. Forcibly she turns to Myitt. "Here, let me get you some water," she says, gesturing to the bartender with a shaky hand. Her gaze catches a strange, canine-like creature at the bar, seemingly impassive through the entire gory mess. She looks away quickly, frowning at the bar.
Dalik hurries over to the table, lowering her onto it. He keeps one hand against her neck and shushes her. "It's okay," he murmurs. "Don't speak. Just focus on me, alright? We're going to help you."
<<We. Me and an Andalite,>> Dalik says internally, the sheer absurdity of the situation making him almost giddy.
He glances over at the Andalite in question, frowning. "Do you have a way to stop infection?" he asks. "Suturing it without cleaning it could just kill her more slowly."
-
Myitt paces up to the bar counter, right in front of the dish of water where Keshin now lives.
She gazes down at the little Yeerk briefly, before forcing herself to look away, eyes unfocused.
<<I'm so...so sorry I didn't listen to you,>> Myitt begins.
<<It's that guy. That Jeffrey guy, man. It's like he can control what people do and say, or at least influence them to do what he says. That's why you left me, and that's why you did this. I'm sure of it.>>
Myitt nods slowly. "Yeah," she whispers aloud. "That's why I did it."
A slow tremor from the effects of the oatmeal makes her shudder.
"Tara," she says, her fingers gripping the bar counter tightly, "I need help..."
-
<Antibiotic infusion in the synth-plasma. It is, for all intents and purposes, human blood with a mild but effective antibiotic built in, but synthetically produced from base materials. I believe the humans call this blood O-negative. In addition, this is a medical force-field. It sterilizes all fauna considered to be harmful from everything that passes into it.> He gives Joanne a quick local anesthetic around the wound. She might still feel some pain, but a stronger anesthetic would be too risky and too time-consuming at this point. He quickly inserts an Intravenous needle into Joanne's left arm-vein and begins a slow infusion of the synthetically-produced O-negative blood.
He uses his deft fingers to manipulate the controls of the field, locking Joanne into an immobile position. He uses a fine-point field to help the excess blood to drain away and to gently pry the lacerated skin and muscle tissues open. He quickly locates the lacerated portion of the carotid artery and uses the controls of the unit to create a very small force field on the inside wall of the carotid on the other side of the laceration that will not inhibit blood flow, but slows the bleeding to a trickle almost immediately. Bright red arterial blood drains away through an invisible tube of force-field to collect in a bio bin beneath. Finally the wound is clear enough for Ossanlin to see the wound. Not even a cut really...more of a nick. A deep nick though, to a highly-pressurized artery.
He picks up the bio-thread, needle, and tissue patch. He gently sutures the arterial walls back together, and then lays the tissue patch over the sutured arterial wall and begins to meticulously suture it down. Approximately half an hour passes as he works tirelessly to properly patch the artery. When it's done, he has the machine remove the internal force-field, allowing the artery to face the full brunt of Joanne's critically lowered blood pressure again. The sutures hold strong with no deformation.
Ossanlin begins to increase the infusion rate of the new O-Negative blood, watching to make sure the carotid holds. It should, from what he's been taught. He'd sutured it strongly and bio-patched it. Either should've been enough to hold alone, but it would be almost impossible for both the sutures and the patch to fail.
-
Absently, Myitt swirls a finger around in Keshin's watery prison.
<<Yeah?>> Tara murmurs. <<Let's get help, then. Let me help you.>>
Myitt laughs cynically. "Can't help me," she tells the shellacked bar counter. "Just need to ride it out. Own up to the consequences."
-
"Are you okay?" Fayleth asks Myitt again, forcing her attention outward. She glances down at the bowl holding Keshin and frowns.
<<It wouldn't take much.>>
<<Be. Quiet.>>
"Myitt, maybe you should stay away from him." She nods at the dish.
Dalik steps back, putting distance between himself and Ossanlin, holding the bloodied shirt in one hand. There is another smear of dark blood on his bare chest, but he doesn't seem to notice. His attention is on the Andalite, and the technology around him as he suddenly fully grasps where he is.
William has no context for the alien spacecraft, and doesn't offer commentary as Dalik looks around. The Yeerk can't hide his giddy fascination, the array of technology on display utterly enthralling.
"This is...wow," he breathes. His fingers twitch, eager to approach the nearest holoscreen.
-
Hunter had been staring at his drink, lost in thought over his last job. He was unaware of what had just happened in the bar, except for the nearly overwhelming scent of freshly spilled blood lingering in the air.
His rolled cigarette extinguished but still perched on the edge of the ash tray, Hunter picks it up and re lights it with a puff of smoke. The sweet smelling smoke trails up to the rafters, while mostly covering up the smell of blood.
Hunter flicks some ash from his 'smoke' and finishes his drink in one gulp. Inhaling deeply on the rolled cigarette, he glances down the bar and he lays eyes on a couple of humans sitting at the bar around a small bowl with something moving around inside of it.
Facing the rear wall of the bar, he exhales towards the roof, blowing a series of smoke rings, gradually getting larger as they move towards the rafters and dissipate. His ears twitch a little as he listens in to their conversation.
-
"I'm not going to hurt him," Myitt says defensively, her hands trembling, jarring the water.
-
Ossanlin barely notices Dalik, looking around his sick-bay with moon eyes. <This is the Apix Mirage, my yacht. It's been over-hauled and personally modified, so I doubt you'd find much of use if you plan on hacking more Andalite ships.>
He monitors Joanne's blood-pressure reading as it begins to normalize with the infusion. The carotid holds firm even at full pressure...likely stronger than it had been in the first place. Ossanlin begins the procedure of bio-suturing and puttying the surrounding tissue and neck laceration. With the neck closed and in good shape, he moves his attention to the shoulder. A shallow cut, but it would need suturing as well.
-
Joanne winces in pain as Ossanlin's procedure commences, trying her hardest to not pay attention to anything that is happening. To stay awake. To focus. That was what was important, and nothing more. The handsome man was a comfort--- Although she couldn't decide whether he was a stranger or Keshin. No, Keshin left when... he can't be here. That's Dalik, isn't it? The hot guy with the strange Yeerk who came in.Yeah, that makes sense. She remembers now, telling Keshin he could leave. Her head was a mess.
Joanne's heart rate and blood pressure begin to slow down from the infusion and careful suturing and repair of the wound. Joanne feels a shock of pain and pressure as her neck artery begins to function again, and she cries out in pain. However, the pressure subsides slowly, even though every part of her upper body feels like it's aching. Joanne's vision focuses where once it was swimming in panic and ignorance, and she realizes by what force she is being healed for the first time.
Joanne's expression is incredulous. "O..Ossanlin?" she says, clearly stunned. She coughs, realizing it probably wasn't the brightest idea for any of her vocal chords or neck to vibrate at this point. But it was unbelievable. Why was the Andalite she'd nearly killed helping her? Was it a different Andalite? Couldn't be--- They'd be even less likely to help. Although Joanne never could tell them apart.
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Keshin shudders and swims towards the edge of his watery container as he experiences vibrations suggesting someone just put something in there, and took it out again. <<What on Earth are they doing? What is happening right now?>>
-
<Calm down Joanne. You shouldn't try to speak just yet. Give it a few hours at least. The repairs are new and will cause some pain.>
He slowly moves to Joanne's shoulder, cutting the fabric away to give him a clean surface. He gently cleanses the area with sterile solution and washes away some of the dried blood, the reddish clear liquid sluicing down another invisible force-field tube. <I'm sorry you are unable to move at the moment, but such delicate surgery required immobility. As soon as I'm done suturing your shoulder, I will relax the field some.>
He putties the muscle tissues and then sutures them back together. Then he sutures the skin carefully, though more-quickly than he had the neck tissues. This was a much less-delicate area to work in. After several minutes, he finishes the shoulder and commands the force-field to relax so that Joanne can move around some, but encounters some resistance, like being surrounded on all sides by a fluffy pillow. <You need to rest before you get moving again. Do you want me to retrieve Keshin? One finger extended is yes, two fingers extended is no.>
-
Joanne hears Ossanlin's voice in her head, clear as a bell. Joanne purses her lips, not thrilled about not being able to let loose the words that threaten to burst from her, but agrees to this. Joanne sits through Ossanlin's repairs of her body, her memories and feelings slowly coming into sharp focus. This guy saved my keelster. For no reason. He...he had been wanting to say sorry to me. But why? What happened to him?
Joanne gives Ossanlin a rare look of genuine gratitude, and a smile. Joanne then notes her mobility and twitches her fingers and her arm, turning slightly, but unable to get up fully. She definitely, definitely wanted to see Keshin. She felt...uncomfortabl e, even naked without him. She had never really had a good strategy for dealing with people. She holds up one finger.
-
Ossanlin glances at Dalik. <Please retrieve Keshin so they can be reunited.>
-
"Hacking?" Dalik responds, eyes flickering. A smile crosses his face. "No, not a ship as lovely as this."
His response is interrupted by Joanne's attempts at speaking, and Ossanlin's brief conversation with her.
Approaching her tableside, he finds his smile softening. "You'll be okay," he says to her, echoing his earlier words, hoping that perhaps now she is lucid enough to hear them. "I'll bring him to you."
He shoots Ossanlin another glance, but says nothing to the Andalite, obediently stepping off of the ship and striding down the ramp.
When he pushes back into the bar his eyes go to Tara immediately. William's lip twitches upward. "Do you have control over yourself now?" he asks Myitt icily, approaching the bar and reaching for the dish containing Keshin.
-
Myitt glances at Dalik.
She says nothing, but lets him take Keshin away.
-
Terenia's fingers twitch as Dalik enters, but Fayleth forces her gaze away, back to Myitt. "We need to go home," she says urgently.
Dalik lifts the small dish, not waiting for any response from Myitt. Instead he gives her a look of mild disgust before turning back to the Andalite ship. Carrying Keshin with care, the dish cradled against his bare chest, he uses his shoulder to push open the door.
"He's unharmed, miraculously," Dalik reports as he steps back onto the Mirage, eyes going immediately to Joanne then flicking to Ossanlin. "She's stable enough to be reinfested?"
-
<Aside from some pain, yes. The artery is likely even stronger now than it was before. it is sutured and bio-patched. Her blood pressure and heart rate are back within acceptable human parameters. I suppose there may be some mental ramifications. Life-threatening trauma can induce a state of shock upon the nervous system. But she is responding cogently to conversation, which is a positive sign.> He pauses a moment before continuing. <This pair is...intimately linked. I'm certain they wish to be with each other, especially in such a trying situation. Quite frankly I'm surprised you got Keshin to disengage at all.>
He nods to Dalik, dipping his many-fingered hand into the bowl containing Keshin. He slowly withdraws the Yeerk, repressing a shiver, a purely physical reaction to touching the slimy flesh. He holds Keshin up to Joanne's ear, patiently waiting, trying to ignore the slimy, slithery feeling against his fingers.
<Thank you.> He grimaces a moment, still waiting for Keshin to reinfest. <Feel...free...to poke around my ship. It's clear that you want to and while I don't trust you as yet, I have learned recently that trust must begin somewhere.> He doesn't mention the ship's non-standard real-time recording feature which would record everything that happened in or to the ship. The feature is all but impossible to circumvent and would tell him exactly which components or files Dalik accessed or tinkered with.
-
Jeffrey feels vaguely like somebody had taken a gigantic jackhammer, but used it to drill only a miniscule hole into his head--- All pressure, no substance. It was a sensation he was rather intimately familiar with, given how many times he had been knocked out, but he still wasn't thrilled to wake up to it. Ugh...Yeerk buddy? I think we ****ed it up...Or probably just didn't... Jeffrey groans and lifts himself up unsteadily, looking around. count on how many damn friends your bounty hunter chick has got.
Jeffrey blinks, dusting his vest off. He's not thinking spectacularly clearly at the moment, but he's still pretty sure there's an absence where the Yeerk is supposed to be. Yeerk buddy? Hello-o? No luck. Myitt must have gone back to her own body. Jeffrey feels a whiff of disappointment, but turns his attention to other matters. Like what position he was in. That was important, wasn't it?
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Keshin slowly slithers his way back into Joanne's ear, eager to reach his friend as soon as he can. Keshin crosses the divide between the earlobe as he can, causing Joanne to briefly wince in pain at his speed, but soon seem to fall out of focus. Keshin stretches his body into every familiar groove, across like a blanket onto every lobe, ravenous for contact with the one he left behind.
It isn't long before she, metaphorically anyway, leaps onto him. <<Kess! You're okay! God! God! I was worried! I was worried...>> Delicate hands ruffle purple hair, in a fantasy that only they can share. It wouldn't be enough, in Keshin's opinion, for him to infest someone else. What they wanted was an impossibility--- to touch not minds but each other's skin, each in their own bodies.
<<I'm fine. It's alright. Are you safe?>> Keshin's tone radiates concern and protectiveness.
<<Sort of. Blue...blue deer guy has been taking care of me...okay? Okay?>>
<<Ossanlin?>>
Keshin moves a hand through Joanne's hair and gives Ossanlin a tired, level glance that can only belong to him. "...I...we're not fully together, but th-thank you, War-Prince," says Keshin. "We'll...owe you one. On the house."
-
Ossanlin raises an eyebrow, briskly passing his hand through a clean field to strip away the Yeerk secretions. <You don't owe me anything. The 'thank-you' will suffice.> He pauses, looking back at Joanne's eyes with his main eyes. <I...know you have difficulties. You're dependent on an expensive medication simply to survive. It's driven you to do things you might not have otherwise done. I think...> He pauses again for a moment. <I think that Joanne's condition could be cured. For good.>
-
Keshin has no idea how he is supposed to respond to that comment. He can almost, if he squints hard enough, understand the mental place it is coming from--- Genuine concern, a very Andalite do-no-unnecessary-harm ethos that comes from the resolute and rigid thoughts of the finest of their warriors--- but it was still ridiculous. Keshin barks out a throaty laugh at the naked arrogance of the statement, and then braces himself on the side of the field around them as he coughs out blood, sweat, and saliva.
<<Kess, we are not ready for primetime with our speech yet. Don't pull anything stupid, okay?>>
<<Fine. But, look...Just look at this bull****, for a minute.>>
"Ossanlin, you...you think..." Keshin swallows, but his incredulous gape can still be seen through his eyes and face. "We haven't tried? Are you...are you mental? I didn't....think...you were..." Keshin sighs again, trying to get a bearing on Joanne's voice, but it is extremely difficult. "...there is no way to fix this. Every cell in the body!" Keshin points vigorously at Joanne's chest. "Every one has the defective gene. Every one carries the miserable..*cough*...curse that drives us through the days. What can you possibly do?"
-
Ossanlin looks away for a moment before deciding to come out with it. <You've...seen what I'm capable of. Some of it, yes?> He breathes deeply and continues. <I can...alter...time in some respects. This timeline is skewed. Well, it would be considered as skewed from the original stream's point of view. In the original timeline, my people attacked the rebellion base and decimated their entire population. Only a few survived.> He looks back at Joanne and Keshin.
<You got caught up in it. Why you were in the sector I've no idea. You wouldn't tell me. You and the other survivors of the attack were taken prisoner. I...absconded...wit h the Tyrennian and a skeleton crew to rescue the survivors. It was quite a surprise to see Joanne in the non-Yeerk holding cells.> Ossanlin relaxes the field a bit further to try and ease Joanne's pain. <At...well at Tara's behest, I released the both of you along with the other rebels. What followed was truly amazing for a time. Andalite, Yeerk, Human, and Hork-Bajir working in synchronicity aboard the Tyrennian. We developed new technologies...powe rful technologies.> He shrugs a bit non-commitally. <I combined my abilities with morphing technology to create a synthesized genome for Joanne, the same in every aspect except for the removal of the fatal flaw. Joanne basically nothlitized herself in her own body sans the faulty gene. It worked perfectly.>
He holds Keshin's gaze for a moment before going on with the story. <Eventually many of the rebellion members peeled away into their own sect again...finding some base to hide away in. It was devastating to the Tyrennian and to those whom remained, but we resolved to carry on. We had no other choice. You stayed. You...became my First Officer. Second in command of an uniquely advanced Dome Ship. We were...friends.>
<But I changed all of that. And you have every right to be angry with me for it. Because when I undid the destruction of the rebel base from within the timestream, I undid the good that came out of that timeline as well, including Joanne's curing.> He pauses again before continuing. <So you see...it's possible that her condition can be cured. I did it once. But there's no guarantee it could be repeated, or that the results would be as successful this time through.>
-
With a slow sigh, Fayleth relaxes. With Keshin gone, Terenia's anger calms to a low simmer.
"We need to leave," she tells Myitt quietly. "You need to get home." She hesitates, then adds, "I'd rather not stay here longer than necessary. This place gives me the creeps."
Dalik hesitates for a brief moment, watching Keshin and Joanne. His intense desire to peruse the Andalite technology supersedes his concern, though, and he can't help the eager grin that spreads over William's face as he turns to the nearest console.
The glow of the holoscreens cast a pale light on William's already pale features, and his long fingers are hesitant at first--a sign of reverie rather than uncertainty.
<<Are you ever going to explain this to me?>> William asks.
Dalik lets out a shaky laugh. <<It would take the better part of a generation, my friend,>> he responds.
He keeps his surveillance of the Andalite technology respectfully light and surface level, seeming to have no problem with the alien interface.
Joanne's words draw him partially from his exploration, and he glances back. Not your problem, he berates himself. Despite this, he can't help but ask, "Curse? What do you mean?"
-
Keshin listens to Ossanlin's insane tale with as much of a measured expression as he can manage. A quiet settles over the two of them as his thoughts hit their own. Keshin can detect one thing, and it brings a shiver down his spine--- The Andalite is absolutely telling the truth, about the entire story. His "voice" is too inflected, too emotional, and there are strange visual asides here and there, as if they can't be held back so easily. <<....we've seen this guy recover, and for that matter do, some very strange things before. ...I'd bet the Blade ship it happened.>>
<<...so what do we do then? If he's telling the truth, that means...>>
<<...yes. It means that if he went through with it, we'd only need to kill enough to get us both fed. Or we'd have to sneak around like hobos on Earth or something, eating in the Pool cafeteria, but that's been getting increasingly dangerous. It means that this guy was...>> There is an uncomfortable silence.
<<Someone we trusted.>> Joanne shivers internally. <<I...>> An image of Joanne's parents flashes into view, staring at her with empty, scared eyes. Gunshots. A group of people, laughing, talking. <<...Kess, I can't, you were the only person who didn't use me, I can'tICAN'T...>>
<<Calm yourself. We're going to ask his price.>>
Keshin glances back at Ossanlin and says, enunciating every syllable very carefully so as not to strain Joanne's throat,"And you'd do it again, just like that? ...Even though it's not the same as it was? For free? ...about the only payment we could offer worth such a thing is a promise, and I have no idea if it would be one we could keep. Or an enormous debt or favor. If you knew us..." Keshin closes his eyes. "...then you might also know why I would ask this. What kind of life my host has lived."
Keshin notes Dalik's comment. "Yes. A curse. Joanne's body produces too much energy...and in the wrong fashion, from ordinary biological processes. Too much ATP, too many nutrients, too much blood, too many cells. And by far too much charge running through every cell in---" Keshin coughs in a way that sounds painful. "Blah, this body!"
-
<I have been...having trouble recently with my own abilities. The act of changing the timeline left its mark on me. My abilities are...less-stable than they once were. I...I could try. But I must warn you again, it could be dangerous, and it may not work. And...we would definitely want to wait until Joanne fully recovers from the recent trauma.>
He pauses, sparing a stalk eye for Dalik before continuing. <Actually, despite our friendship, you and Joanne never went into detail about her past. I didn't press for an answer.> He pauses, bringing up the safer option. <I know...Joanne didn't want to do it before, and I assume she wouldn't want to now, but it would be much safer for her to nothlitize herself in a frolis morph. I understand the compunction, but I feel it's necessary to let you know that that is also an option.>
-
Dalik takes in the conversation, not seeming to mind that he is eavesdropping. "He's telling the truth," he tells Joanne and Keshin, though it seems as though they already believe him.
<<Damned if I understand what he's telling the truth about,>> William grumbles. <<My abilities aren't very helpful without context.>>
Dalik hesitates. <<I...have a vague guess. Not even a guess, really, and if I'm right...it's impossible. Absurd.>>
As outrageous as Ossanlin's claims have been thus far, it's the last that really stuns him. "You would give an infested human access to morphing technology?" he demands, floored.
-
Ossanlin glances again at Dalik. <She would be uninfested at the time. It would have to be her decision through the whole process. And she would be contained with the knowledge that if she does not nothlitize, she will not be allowed to leave containment until she does.>
-
Keshin frowns. A jumble of scared, incoherent thoughts hits him almost full force and he instinctively scrunches up his forehead with two of his fingers. "Uhm...from what I understand..." he says in a somewhat raspy, low voice so as to avoid straining Joanne's taxed throat muscles and nerves, "...Joanne's scared that if you put her in another body she wouldn't be 'her' anymore. I'm sure you received something like this particular piece of information from us in the past. I suppose..."
Keshin sighs. "...Yeerks don't fear this phenomenon, because we do it all the time. Changing one's body and brain means that aspects of personality will be "read" differently, which is why Yeerks in humans act more human than Yeerks in Hork-Bajir or Yeerks in Taxxons. I have changed many a time. But Joanne never has, and the differences between individual humans are significant, as they are in individual Andalites. She fears a frolis morph would change her. With that said..."
Keshin swallows and clears his throat. "...if it's the option more likely to succeed, perhaps there's a way to retain as much of Joanne's mental architecture as possible in the mixture. Not that she's likely to be an estreen, exactly. I would try anything that I thought would work, personally. But we will obviously need time to decide. She's just been through something very startling and traumatic."
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Jeffrey glances around dubiously, wondering where all of the others went, but eventually settles for sitting down at the Bar. He glances up at the Bartender, muttering, "**** man, how can you still be cleaning that same glass like you're on a repeat VR animation" before sitting down. What now? I could make them all forget about what happened, but the blue deer seems way resistant. Training of some kind. Mind tapeworms, the Yeerks, being the source of that? Probably. You'd think that the woman would want revenge versus it being some half-assed anger. But ah well. More's the pity.
-
Ossanlin gives Keshin a rather surprised and questioning look. <Morphing technology does not affect one's personality. It would be entirely useless if it did. While it does change the architecture of one's brain, the memory, thoughts, feelings, indeed one's very identity is fully preserved. Imagine morphing a rodent, if what you said were true, suddenly you would simply be that rodent. You would forget everything you knew, all of your memories, all of your knowledge. You would know nothing beyond the life of the rodent. And that would be the rest of your life, because you would no-longer comprehend that you are not a rodent. You would never demorph. The only portion of the brain of the morph that remains with you is the most basic of the morph's instincts. So basic, that they are shared across all members of any given species. If she were morphing a Hork-Bajir or an Andalite, her personality might alter over time due to the other species' instincts and capabilities...but going from human to human would be like downloading the data from one computer onto another identical computer with a different outer casing.> Ossanlin squints at Keshin again. <Were you truly under the impression that morphing causes one to lose his identity?>
-
"Not lose it--- Change it," says Keshin. "Brain architecture is not the same as, say, a computer mainframe--- It is always shifting. The synapses and connections within the mind form and reform thousands of times over the course of a lifetime, and these changes are choreographed based on the person's response to their environment over decades. Given enough time, two different humans end up with the very hills and valleys of the machine altered--- A human musician pushing keys with their fingers has a far larger hand control region than a non-musician. Creating a brand new human mind with none of these connections and then imprinting Joanne's memories permanently onto it..."
Keshin shakes his head. "Honestly, Andalite--- Of course we were concerned. That's not remotely the same thing as morphing a rat for two hours while your real mind is stored elsewhere and then retrieving it. Still..."
Keshin smiles slightly. "...if that's the case, then we have very little to worry about beyond the expected body disphoria. And, well, retraining the new body into the same form as the other."
-
Dalik clears his throat, looking embarrassed for cutting in. "I have to agree with the turelek," he says. "The human mind is infinitely complex. Much of the personality is formed through experiences, but some is dependent on brain chemistry."
He gives a half-hearted smile. "My brother is more interested in matters of the mind than I am, but his research has gone a long way toward showing that while a human's mind can be replicated across bodies it cannot remain fully intact. It's impossible."
Back in control, Terenia looks up at Jeffrey's re-entrance. Her shoulders stiffen as she considers whether or not he is a threat, freed from Myitt's control.
-
Ossanlin shakes his head at both Keshin and Dalik. <Morphing technology was basically hoof-fed to us at the Academy. You both obviously underestimate its effectiveness.> Ossanlin turns his main eyes back to Dalik. <If you really believe that the physiology of a morphed brain has so much effect upon the morpher, then you must also admit that the brain of an insect...say an Earthling gnat...would NEVER be able to support the mind of a more-sentient being chemically or physically. Retrieval of one's mind would not be possible, because once again, you would no longer have the capability for higher thought physiologically. Therefor morphing anything physiologically incapable of sentience would be completely impossible, and it is not.> He turns his main eyes back to Keshin. <I'm telling you both that nothing about who you are, your knowledge, your feelings, nor your identity are lost. And the only thing added are the basic instincts of the morphed species. You would not lose things like muscle memory, though with a different body, your muscle memory may not do you much good.>
He shrugs his shoulders. <But I understand if she does not wish to do this. Never seeing yourself in a mirror again would be disturbing.>
-
"What if the morphed form has the physical predisposition for, say, depression?" Dalik asks pointedly. "Such a thing can greatly influence how a person acts and reacts to their world, and the pathways for it are entirely chemical." He shakes his head. "I don't disbelieve you, Anda--Ossanlin. I simply think you are taking your technology into untested waters. What is the time limit on a morph? A few hours? Perhaps there is no significant influence in that amount of time. But over the course of years? Decades?"
-
Jeffrey gives Terenia a bit of a sidelong glance. He wasn't sure what to make of the grim woman. He didn't really know her, and he didn't know how much of what had happened she connected with him or the Yeerk. Everything about this place throws you off. I need to get out of ****ing dodge as soon as I can figure out how.
Jeffrey gets up from his seat at the bar and plops down two seats away from her, smiling slightly. "So...You seemed like you knew everyone else," he says. "I don't, really. All I know is they're the Rebel Alliance Yeerks to the other half's Galactic Empire or whatever, and I don't give a **** about any of it. I'm from the future with superpowers. What's your name?"
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"I think that...we'll have to think about it," says Keshin, blinking once, rather slowly. "There are a lot of factors that go into a decision like this, and it's been sprung on us out of nowhere. With that said..."
Keshin sighs, staring at Ossanlin for a while and then saying, "...thank you, again...For saving our lives. Whatever happened between us once...hasn't happened..." Keshin clears his throat with a slight cough. "...so it can't be the same. But I imagine that we appreciated you a lot...then, too. We don't have too many people who care whether either of us live or die besides us. Joanne...She finds it really hard to trust anyone besides me. There are countless people who...we thought...We could trust..." His words come slowly and haltingly, and he realizes this may last for at least another few hours. His throat hurts. "...who we couldn't. If it really does work like you say....For a nothlit......We'll think about it."
-
Ossanlin moves a stalk-eye back to Dalik. <Of course, if someone is in a morph for a long period of time, they will adapt. But this is generally a concern for alternate species morphs. For example, if she morphed an andalite, she would become inherently more-academic and likely more intelligent over time. If she morphed a Hork-Bajir, she would grow accustomed to climbing and jumping. But going from human to human...there are no radical changes in physiological capability. The effects would be negligible at most.>
He turns his attention back to Keshin. <Of course, such decisions are monumental.> He pauses, listening to the rest of Keshin's oration. <You two are the ones that opened my eyes to the reality that no one is beyond hope. And that when such a person is given hope back, they can become a truly incredible individual.> Ossanlin nods again. <These are simply options I'm placing before you. If you decide not to take either, I won't be hurt. Everyone deserves to live, and to live with hope...>
-
Dalik bristles at the implication that Andalites are inherently more intelligent, his shoulders stiffening. "Likely if you morphed Andalite you'd also become more insufferable over time," he says dryly to Keshin. He glances back at the Mirage's holoscreens, then shakes his head, coughing a laugh. "Obviously I'm not here to influence your opinion at all. I don't even really understand everything you're talking about. But I'd caution you to think hard. Any permanent change is going to have a permanent impact, no matter what the furball has to say about it."
He sighs, looking down at himself. He's still half-dressed, his shirt a forgotten, bloody mess after rushing Joanne onto the ship. "I should return Danel's autonomy. The poor creature is incredibly confused, and Cameron is likely conscious by now."
-
Ossanlin arches an eyebrow at Dalik, not really understanding why he's decided to take umbrage. <I'm sorry if you are offended, but you are the one who has been touting the differences in physiological brain capabilities for the past several minutes.> Ossanlin shrugs his shoulders again before continuing on. <It's mere fact that the Andalite brain, in comparison, is more physiologically capable than are many of its contemporary counterparts.>
-
Keshin snerks slightly. "Classic Andalite arrogance. The only species in the galaxy who can literally say they're smarter than everyone else without batting an eyelash. Hah!" Keshin adjusts his position in the field and sighs out long and hard through Joanne's lips.
He then glances over at Ossanlin and nods. "...without hope is something you could say we've been, yes. With no cure for the illness, Joanne and I have been wandering the galaxy with nothing to look forward to but a good time. Even if we were cured, there is still nowhere for us to go. We have made enemies in the Empire, in the Rebellion..." Keshin chuckles. "...we're about as proper ****ed as two people get. With that said..."
Keshin shakes his head. "...we should probably get back into the Bar. If that's possible. The others are probably wondering if we're even still alive."
-
Ossanlin focuses again on Keshin. <Note that I did not say 'everyone,' nor did I use the term 'smarter.' It's clear that the physiological capabilities of the Yeerk's neural network is...superior...in some fashions. And just because a being has a greater capability for intelligence does not mean that he or she will utilize it. However, the same amount of effort would yield greater results in an Andalite brain than it would in many others. Simply put, intelligence is much easier for Andalites to obtain than it is for many other species. One could say knowledge comes to us freely.>
<If you truly feel well-enough to return to the bar. Your attacker is likely still in there. Well...attackers, though you must understand that Myitt was not in control of herself. She has done some...shocking...t hings in the past, but the man she was in is terribly unstable. He wishes only to cause disorder and chaos...to spill blood and laugh about it. That kind of person has no place in this Galaxy. Not to mention she was...chemically... compromised as well.>
Ossanlin relaxes the field further until it's flexible enough for Keshin to sit up. <I wish I could offer you a place aboard the Tyrennian, but as it stands I'm once again under the yoke of the Electorate and that of Sector Seven. A Yeerk aboard an andalite ship would not be possible at this juncture. I do not know what your relationship is like with the rebels...but they seem able to forgive quite a bit in return for a formidable dracon arm.>
He falls silent for a bit, picking his next words carefully. <You know, Keshin...performing a frolis nothlitization would not be impossible for you personally either.>
He concentrates on Dalik for a moment. <Have you satisfied your curiosities, Dalik?>
-
Dalik's lip curls, but he keeps himself in check and his anger turns into a smile when Keshin speaks up and practically smugness when Ossanlin acknowledges Yeerk superiority.
"Yes, I'm quite satisfied," he says. "Thank you for reassuring me in my own capabilities. You have quite a pretty toy here, but nothing I couldn't patch together myself."
He steps over to Keshin and Joanne, offering her an arm. "Would you like assistance returning to the bar? I could see you safely before returning to my usual host."
-
Ossanlin chuckles to himself...ever the Yeerk, apparently. He almost senses her internal intent when her host's face exudes a form of smugness. <You should also note that I said that the Yeerk brain is superior in some regards. Certainly not all. For example, Yeerks are much better at mentally forcing their will upon innocent, free sentient beings.> He shrugs noncommittally. <No ship is a toy, dear Dalik. This ship is a honed military machine. As for your ability to copy it...well, that's generally your entire technological structure, isn't it? A mildly successful attempt at copying the technology of a more advanced species?> He keeps his tone neutral.
-
Dalik bristles all over again, William's eyes narrowing at Ossanlin. "I see little benefit in building from scratch when you can improve upon what already exists," he responds. His eyes rove around the ship. "Of course this ship is a toy. All technology is a toy. It's also a weapon, and an effective one I'm sure."
He keeps his arm crooked, waiting for Keshin to accept or reject him, but his eyes are on Ossanlin. "We have the capacity for understanding and expanding upon technology in a fraction of the time it took you to initially develop it. Of course Andalites are an intelligent race, but intelligence comes easy when it is uncontested for generations."
-
<Improve upon? I think you mean jerry-rig. Unless you consider a messy, decaying-beam Dracon that loses more energy over distance and causes an incredible amount of pain and suffering to its victim as it slowly burns through his body to be an "improvement" upon a clean, efficient, high-energy Shredder that is effective over longer distances and kills cleanly. That's only one example.>
He arches an eyebrow, still keeping his face impassive and his tone neutral. <That, my dear Dalik, is because it's MUCH easier to build something when someone hands you a working model and blueprints. Just imagine where we'd be if we hadn't put all that time and effort into actually learning how to use technology on our own? If someone had just come down from the clouds of our infant world and graciously bestowed the secrets of space travel upon us. I think we'd look up to our benefactors and thank them...not betray them and start waging a war upon an entire Galaxy we know almost nothing about.>
He pauses, shaking his head a bit. <You truly believe that greater understanding of reality should be...'contested?'>
-
Dalik coughs a laugh. "My people have made mistakes, I'm not denying that, but so have yours. Do I need to make mention of the quantum virus?" He wipes at the drying blood on his chest irritably. "Listen, I am not responsible for the Empire's actions, so do not put them on my shoulders. This war was started before I was spawned." He waves a dismissive hand. "Besides, isn't the nature of technology that it is constantly improved upon, based on previous blueprints? We've developed our own memory technology that is far superior to anything an Andalite could ever create. You've developed morphing technology. Each of our people has technology to be proud of. My point, my Andalite friend is that they all can be improved upon, and easily, if you have the talent for it. I don't 'jerry-rig', as you call it."
-
<It's a human term, I thought you'd be familiar with it.> He turns a palm up, shrugging. <No Andalite is responsible for the quantum virus besides one Alloran-Semitur-Corass. He did that all by himself. And he's living a fate worse than death for it.>
<Perhaps you'd be interested in my knowledge regarding sub-Z travel? Or my knowledge of a captial-ship cloaking device? Perhaps you'd enjoy hearing about a new hyper-coil beam half again as powerful as a Shredder, that requires less than half of the energy of a traditional Shredder? Or would you enjoy seeing specs for a new twin-tail fighter that will leave bugs in the dust? Or perhaps the method for creating a flex-field shield array?> He smirks just a bit. <Do not lecture me upon the merits of improving existing technology.>
-
Dalik looks down at himself. "This particular human is from a very different time and place than I'm accustomed to. He's not familiar with it." He sighs, dropping his arm and turning to fully face Ossanlin. "Alloran released the virus, but it took the work of others to help with the development of it, did it not? He was a warrior, not a scientist, and he is not the sole Andalite to blame."
As for improving technology, I don't doubt you champion it, noble Andalite. Nor do I doubt that I can counter each of your projects with one of my own and both would be valuable in some way." Dalik's wave is dismissive and irritated. "But you can only improve upon what you have already been given, and that is all I do. Do not belittle my own progress because I am improving upon existing blueprints when that is exactly what you are doing as well."
-
"Well this is fascinating," says Keshin, looking between Dalik and Ossanlin as they engage in possibly the oldest argument in the Yeerk-Andalite playbook. Keshin sits up and props Joanne's body up on the field, shoulders slumped carelessly and one leg hanging off as far as the field will let him go. Keshin snickers. "I half expect an Imperial retinue and the Electorate to show up and listen to you and place bets. Yeerk innovation and adaptability versus Andalite creativity and arrogance, the great debate!" Keshin rolls his eyes. "But regardless..."
Keshin glances toward Dalik. "I'd be fine with you accompanying us back to the Bar. It's been a long night and we'd prefer some kind of escort given what happened and that..." Keshin twitches. "...Myitt and that monster of a man are still in there. As for Myitt being in control of herself..."
Keshin nods quietly and firmly. "...I've known Myitt One Nine Five a long time. And what we saw wasn't normal, even by Myitt's standards. She is resentful, not violent, not unless she's defending someone else or herself. But I do want to hear it from Myitt herself."
-
Ossanlin arches an eyebrow at Dalik. Did he really not know the truth? <Of course it took the work of others. Specifically that of the Arn. I suppose you could hold them accountable if you want, aside from the fact that they're likely completely extinct by now.>
He commands the field to slowly dissolve around Keshin so that he and Joanne can adjust to the removal of the field over time instead of having support simply vanish suddenly. <If you feel confident enough, I see no problem in your return to the bar.> He shuts off the flow of painkillers. <The carotid artery should now be even stronger than it was before the laceration.>
-
Dalik gives Ossanlin a dark look, but instead of responding he turns back to Keshin. "Let's return to the bar, then," he tells her, offering his arm. He frowns down at his bare, bloodied chest. "Although...would you be opposed to stopping by my ship first? Your blood has caused a bit of a mess, and I should make sure William looks at least marginally civilized."
-
Meanwhile, in the Bar
Hunter orders another drink from the Bartender as he takes a drag from his smoke. He blows the smoke up towards the rafters and takes a quick look around the bar. Not that many people here. he thought to himself as he takes a sip from his new drink
-
Jeffrey sighs. It was pretty clear that Terenia didn't want to talk to him, so he sets his sights on the strange wolf-creature that was drinking his life away at the Bar. Jeffrey smiles slightly and walks over to him, putting a hand on the Bar space just next to him.
"So what's your story then, bub?" says Jeffrey. "Are you people involved in this crazy blue deer-tapeworm war? Or are you an outsider, like me? Different time, different place, different world."
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"We feel pretty confident," says Keshin, nodding firmly. "And thank you again, War-Prince Ossanlin. We will seriously consider what you have on offer while we're both still here, and make our choice."
<<Kess...We need to talk to Myitt. We need to know what happened. We can't just let it stand like this.>> Joanne's thought voice sounded hesitant, and scared. It was clear she both wanted to know and was trying to deflect them from the massive change they could potentially undertake. Keshin could wait. Joanne always had let him know in the past when she had enough mental strength to do something that mattered.
"I'm fine with that," says Keshin to Dalik. He dropped off the medical bed slowly as the field dissipated. He still felt a bit woozy in Joanne's body, but it wasn't horrible. He shifts her weight back and forth, testing it, before glancing at William. "Okay, let's go. I'll let you know if we have any trouble."
-
Hunter glances at the human resting a hand on the bar next to him, his purple suit going a dark red to his tritanopic vision. He sniffs a little, taking in the strangely dressed persons scent. Can't quite get a read on this guy. Rad suit though. His ears fold back - whether in relaxation or apprehension, is hard to tell.
"Who you callin' bub, Human?" Hunter snapped, slightly drunk. "I got nothin' to do with those crazy slugs." He took a drag to calm himself, blowing the smoke upwards
"From what I can gather we're all from different worlds. The name's Hunter." He takes a swig from his drink before placing it back on the counter.
-
Terenia bristles, turning away from Jeffrey, wanting nothing to do with him or the strange creature who he's chosen to talk to. Idly, she checks the power setting on her Dracon, then frowns into her drink.
"Thank you," Dalik says. He places a gentle hand on Joanne's back in a silent offer to help support her if needed. "Let's go, then, hm?" He shoots Ossanlin a glance and raises an eyebrow. "Thank you for your assistance, Andalite," he says with a mocking incline of his head.
He guides Joanne off the ship, pausing at the bottom of the ramp to make sure she can make the short walk easily. "You gave me quite the scare back there," he says, giving Keshin a small smile. "Your arrival caused quite the stir."
-
"Hunter?" says Jeffrey. "Sounds like a psuedonym. On my world, I've got two. My legal name's Void Valmont, even though I used to be Jeffrey Barnes. When a person with powers on my planet comes of age, they take a second name to show their maturity. Who they want to become. And nah."
Jeffrey shakes his head. "A lot of these guys know each other. I think they're from the same world, or whatever these are. How else could one of 'em have a grudge against another like that? I egged one of them on into attacking the other."
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"I suppose so," says Keshin, following Dalik at a slightly slower pace, but making sure that he sets it. "That sort of thing happens to us all the time. Near-death experiences, old grudges coming back to bite us in the rear. Considering that you're somehow Dalik the Prime, I doubt you're entirely free of such things yourself."
Keshin then sighs. "Myitt and I...We go back a few years. And most of those were spent getting in the other's way. I think that she still resents me for killing one of the Rebellion members, even if that new fellow was part of the reason for her assault. She doesn't care that his death was essentially an accident. All that matters is that there's someone to blame. As for her husband, about that I know nothing."
-
Hunter flicks his cigarette butt into the ashtray a little way down the bar, leaving a faint trail of smoke in its path. "So what should I call you then? And what's that about powers, what can you start fights?" He asked the last part in a slightly mocking tone - as if to dare him.
Hunter reaches into the deep inner pocket of his trench coat and removes a small, wooden box with a crude carving of two anthro-cubs playing on the lid. Hunter places the box on the counter and removes what looks like a small hand-rolled cigarette and a small metal lighter.
He places the 'smoke' in his mouth and sparks it up before tossing the lighter into the open box.
-
Dalik gives a quiet laugh. "I may be Dalik the Prime, but most people don't know me by that name," he says. "I haven't used that name in years. I don't know what compelled me to use it in this place. Sheer stupidity, I suppose. Or maybe nostalgia. I was making a name for myself, and I lost it all. Hiding undercover like some sort of vermin isn't quite as glamorous."
He reaches his modified Bug Fighter and frowns up at it, pulling his Dracon from his holster. "Cameron might be awake," he warns. "And something tells me a bare-chested man covered in blood isn't going to do much to calm her down." He gives Keshin a sideways glance. "How good are you at keeping people calm?"
-
<<So that's it, huh?>> Tara berates her Yeerk headmate. <<We're just gonna sit here in a stupor. Forever. Is that it, Myitt? We're gonna just shut the **** down?>>
Myitt shivers a little. <<The effects of the drug...>> she starts hollowly. Her brow furrows. <<Can't account for what I did. Even Keshin...I wouldn't...would I?>>
Tara gives the mental equivalent of a baleful stare. <<Seriously. Myitt, you've been rolling over this same thought for the last, I dunno how long, you've ignored Terenia - did you even notice that she was talking to you? No, you didn't, because you're so out of it! That's more than drugs. That's more than oatmeal. I've seen you react to oatmeal. This Jeffrey guy, I think he really ****ed with your mind, man.>> She pauses in her rant. <<And can you please stretch my back? Leaning over the bar like this is starting to hurt.>>
Myitt jolts with the realization that she has been hovering over her empty glass, almost protectively, glaring down at the bar counter. She stretches her back and winces at the resulting stab of numbness and pain.
Slowly, reluctantly, she turns her attention outward. To the bar around her. Keshin was gone - yes, that's right, someone had taken him. Dalik had taken him?
Hooking her boots around the bar stool, she turns to Terenia and murmurs, "Is he still alive?"
-
Fayleth shoots Myitt a scowl that is all Terenia. "Oh, look. She decided to speak. Welcome back to reality." Rolling her eyes, she takes a long slug of her drink.
"I don't know if he's alive or not. I think so. Dalik came back to get Keshin and said Joanne was alive." She shrugs. "I'm not about to wander onto Ossanlin's ship to find out."
-
Myitt takes this in and nods slowly, processing it for a moment.
She taps the bar. "Leave the bottle please," she sighs, sliding the black wax-wrapped glass bottle over. The liquid she pours from it looks like wine, but it smells powerfully like mulch.
-
For his own part, Nepek does nothing but watch the drama and violence unfold from a shadowed corner of the Bar. In his head, scenes from his past unfold. Scenes of carnage. Death. Some of these acts were committed by others. Many by himself, unable to control his own body. The one commonality, however, was that all committed by a being fighting for their own survival. But this? What Myitt had done was a petty act of vengeance. Unforgivable. And yet, she sits here wallowing in her own actions, as if she wasn't the one who assaulted Keshin! My sympathy for these Yeerks can only extend so far, he tells himself.
Despite these angry, chaotic thoughts cascading through his mind, Nepek only watches everything unfold from the corner of his eye, pretending to read his book. He maintains a distant outward appearance, although he wants nothing more than to step in - to maybe diffuse the situation in some way. But he knows he can do nothing. His abrasive nature would only do nothing but aggravate the situation. This Terenia seemed sure that Joanne, Keshin's host, was still alive. Had Nepek stepped in, would she even still be breathing?
"Worthless," a voice from the past echoes throughout his mind. "A miserable, festering freak." He shakes his head, trying to ward off his disjointed, self-centered thoughts. Of course this had to lead back to his past. Everything always leads back to him, it seems. Narcissistic drama queen, he thinks.
In a shaky motion, Nepek closes his book and places it to rest on the bar. "I think I need a drink," he mumbles to himself. He looks up to the Bartender. "A strong one, please."
-
"Call me Jeffrey Barnes for now, and don't wear it out," says Jeffrey. He rolled his eyes. "Little bit of a spitfire, ain't ya wolfie? My powers are to, well, command people to do whatever I want 'em to do. It's not spectacular, since I can't really force 'em. I can just make them much more likely to consider it than not. And nothing I say makes them like me."
Jeffrey takes a sip of a drink that the Bartender apparently placed in front of him. He doesn't at all recall paying for one. He glances around the Bar and notes that the Yeerk he was in earlier seems to have returned to the land of the living, as has the bladed freak Nepek. What was going to happen with this group, anyway, and how many of them had linked what happened to him? It was stupid, wasn't it? I made a ton of enemies in about, oh, thirty seconds. I wonder if Myitt's attack really did them in.
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"Better than you would expect, given that I am a bounty hunter," says Keshin, reflexively adjusting Joanne's weapons. He had actually spent more than one occasion calming down Joanne from a particularly acute bout of fear or sadness about the future. <...we should really think about the Andalite's offer.>
<Later. Let's just focus on the present for right now, okay?> Joanne's voice sounded timid and quiet. It wasn't a sound Keshin particularly liked.
"And I imagine people feel inspired to use old monikers and bring up past dealings because of the environment here," says Keshin. "That's probably why you did it. The...creature...th at owns this place likes watching people get hurt, I think."
-
Myitt, her attention fully focused on the drink in her hand, doesn't notice Nepek at first.
She barely registers Jeffrey's presence nearby, even though he was the reason - presumably - for her current state of regretful angst.
With a small smile she murmurs to Nepek, "You look troubled." She pours more of the red stuff. "Penny for your thoughts?"
-
Fayleth makes a face. "You are not getting more drunk," she says, reaching over and plucking the bottle away. She sniffs at it, then coughs. "Jeez, are you trying to boil your insides?"
She scowls as Myitt speaks to Nepek. "Don't encourage her," she warns.
"Well the creature who owns this place has an awful sense of humor," Dalik says.
<<Oh, I don't know,>> William muses. <<I can sympathize.>>
<<Yet another reason I'm looking forward to leaving your twisted mind behind.>>
"Alright, I'm going to order the hatch open. Would you mind boarding first and making sure Cameron remains calm?" Dalik asks with a wince. "Just...tell her I'm outside and explain why I'm covered in blood."
-
Nepek holds up a hand in mock surrender. "Well, you got me. My plan all along was to encourage the one with apparent violent tendencies to consume even more alcohol, but you sure foiled that dream of mine." The longer he stayed in the bar with these people, the more Nepek found himself wishing Ossanlin would return. True, he may be an Andalite, but at least he didn't attempt to slaughter another patron. And this Jeffrey character . . . Nepek couldn't quite place his finger on it, but something seemed off about him. How he so casually went about his business after his body was used to assault this Keshin, or Joanne, or Turelek or whatever this Yeerk wished to be called. And as for Hunter, he appeared to be another one of these contract killers.
Nepek takes the drink that the Bartender handed him - a strange liquor that was foreign to him. "Nothing to lose at this point," he grumbles before downing the shot. Immediately, he cringes at the burning sensation of the alcohol, which was a feeling that was nearly alien to the Hork-Bajir.
"I'm not entirely sure you'd be happy to hear what I'm thinking," Nepek says to Myitt. "As I'm sure you've noticed, I tend not to be the most . . . friendly, let's say, when expressing my opinions." Satisfied with leaving his response at that, he turns to Fayleth. "Seems you have connections to quite a few of the current patrons?" Nepek intones with a small, gruff chuckle. "I suppose I'm one of the few among us that isn't a regular here. Care to fill me in on how you know these people?"
-
Hunter takes a drag of his smoke and blows the sweet-smelling smoke towards the rafters as he listens to Jeffrey explain his powers.
"Sounds pretty tame compared to the Humans where I'm from. Had to deal with a shadow teleporter before coming here so please, no games." Hunter says with a chuckle and a sigh at the memory of the mess he left in the wake of his last job.
He scrunches his nose as the strong scent of mulch reached him from down the bar.
-
Ossanlin runs a sterilization field over the medical equipment and starts the cleaning cycle. He walks down the ramp of the Mirage, self-checking for all of his equipment, before commanding the ramp closed and trotting back toward the bar. Should this Jeffrey try to hurt people again, he'd have to be dealt with...for good.
He passes through the swinging doors, immediately checking the room again. The Ildari bounty hunter seems to have gone, but he notes the presences that remain. The bounty Hunter wolf, Myitt back in Tara, Nepek, Terenia...Ossanlin barely represses a scowl at her, and Jeffrey whom he favors with the darkest knowing look he can muster. Myitt is already conversing with Nepek...perhaps putting things behind, or more likely distracting herself. He shakes his head before approaching the bar, ordering a bowl of water. He doesn't feel like alcohol at the moment.
-
Out on the lake on the small planetoid, the placid, serene surface is suddenly shattered as it explodes upward, a being flying up into the air from the bottom-most point. The shape unfurls two grand, feathered, raven-black wings. Aside from the wings, the figure looks human. As he opens his crimson-irised eyes, they pierce the darkness. He holds his long, curved, single-edged sword in front of himself, chanting under his breath. His eyes glow red as the sword melts back into the form of a black and silver staff capped by a golden jewel.
The figure swoops through the air back toward the bar, water spraying from his form. As he touches down out front, the remaining water slides off of his body. His crimson-embroidered black tunic and cloak now perfectly dry, jet black shoulder-length hair not moving in the wind. In fact, air-movement doesn't really seem to affect any part of him. He furls his wings and they melt back into his body as if they'd never been. He places the staff on his back, straps melting out to hold it in place. He can still sense Mar, though the other Primal is now distant. In fact, the only Primal he senses nearby, aside from the Bar Tender, is the Ellimist, though it's muted within another organic being. Probably the Andalite from before.
All of his wounds have healed and as he pushes through the swinging doors, his silver-tipped, silver-heeled black boots clunk against the wood. He glances around the room noting faces, some familiar, others new. The Tender had not interfered with his recovery, or with any other part of his battle with the extraordinarily gifted possessor. It was not through good will, of course...that was impossible. No, it was probably more out of interest...after all, having the Shard within his sphere of influence was probably a great source of amusement for the being. Whatever the case, this place was still a safe haven from Mother.
As the being known as Nyr walks toward the bar and takes a seat, his cape does not billow or change conformation, nor does his hair sway. A discomfiting sight for any who might notice it. To most it would seem...unnatural. Before he's even fully-seated, a glass of jet-black, viscous liquid on ice is sitting on the bar top in front of him. He reaches for it with a hand clad in a black-scale claw-tipped gauntlet, bringing the glass to his lips and drinking deeply.
-
Myitt scowls and snatches for the bottle again.
"You're as bad as Terenia," she snaps, though she lets Fayleth take the liquor away, and sits heavily in her bar stool again.
With a sigh she nods at Nepek. "You know, your unhappy thoughts are probably a welcome distraction from mine." The corner of her mouth tugs in a wavering smile. "Besides, you have a good sense of humor. A dark sense of humor. I can tell. I like that."
Two things happen almost simultaneously - or at least, she notices them simultaneously: Ossanlin has sauntered back up to the bar, and a newcomer in dark clothing appears in the doorway.
She tugs her black jacket back, the tips of her fingers touching her Dracon holster. "Excuse me for a moment, Nepek," she tells the Hork-Bajir under her breath, and she turns her attention to Ossanlin.
With a cringe that belies the aches and pains of her human friend, she hops off the bar stool and paces to Ossanlin's side, gripping the small of her back with her free hand.
<<You're making me feel prematurely old,>> Tara says with a sigh. <<I am not old. Dude, I'm twenty-eight.>>
Myitt swallows hard, keeping her other hand on the edge of her Dracon, the black cold metal comforting and grounding.
"Ossanlin," she rasps, clearing her throat. "Uh. They're...still alive?" Her dark brown eyes search his main ones, full of anticipatory dread. More for his reaction than his answer. Stupid. Stupid, how could you have been so stupid? Her thoughts bleed into Tara's, but the human says nothing - though she thinks plenty.
Not stupid. Just listen. You were being used. Controlled.
All this happens in the milliseconds while she waits, her gaze fogging just a bit as she tries to focus on Ossanlin in front of her.
-
Fayleth's back is to the door, so she doesn't initially notice Ossanlin's return, or the arrival of the strange newcomer.
"Listen, Myitt--" she begins, but her comrade is already moving away. Heaving a sigh, Fayleth watches as she walks over to the Andalite.
<<No,>> she comments firmly to Terenia, feeling her hackles rise.
<<I wasn't planning on it. Besides, the temperamental Hork-Bajir is talking to you.>>
Fayleth blinks and turns back to Nepek. "Actually, the only person I know here is Myitt, and I've only known her for a few weeks," she admits. "My host, though, has a rather...colorful.. .history with several people here." She favors Nepek with a small smile. "It's a long story, and not a particularly enjoyable one."
-
Ossanlin drinks from his water-bowl, turning his main eyes to stare directly at Myitt and Tara. <They are...unless Dalik also plans to murder them in cold blood.> He holds his gaze steady, remaining silent for several moments before continuing. <The carotid artery should be even stronger than it was before the laceration.>
<I don't know the entire history between you and Keshin, save that no love is lost.> He shakes his head, looking up at the rafters with his main eyes, keeping a stalk-eye on Myitt. <I'd like to think...to believe that whatever hatred you might hold for the bounty-hunter would not drive you to murder.> He turns his main eyes back to Myitt's. <But I've seen you murder another in cold blood before. One of your own, with the anti-kandrona device. Before that, I'd thought you incapable of such things. I'd thought you were governed by reason...logic. Not treachery and deceit. It is one thing to kill honestly...I hate doing it, but sometimes it needs to be done. This is a war. But luring an enemy into a false sense of security by imitating friendship and then striking them in the back?! Two times I've now witnessed you do this. In one instance, you murdered successfully, in the other, your victim was saved.> He pauses. <Do I need to be watching for a knife or a dracon pointed at my back?>
He regrets how harsh the thought sounds as soon as it issues forth. He looks down at the bar-counter shaking his head. <No, that's not fair. I'm sorry Myitt. You felt a threat for everything and everyone you knew and loved the first time, and I know you were being manipulated this time. Controlled. Influenced.> He casts his main eyes over at Jeffrey. <The man needs to go. He's completely insane. He takes...glee...in bloodshed where none is necessary. He is beyond reason and caring.> He pauses, fingering one of his Shredders on the verge of drawing. <Sometimes it needs to be done.>
-
The presence of the newcomer seems to distract Nepek for a few moments. The way he entered the Bar, the way he sat down and his drink just appeared . . . it just seemed off. Not necessarily dangerous, but certainly strange.
He shakes his head and stops staring at the stranger when he notices that Terenia had spoken. "I see. I've noticed that most, if not all, of the Yeerks here have voluntary hosts, or at the very least, a mutually beneficial relationship." Nepek nods, returning Fayleth's smile. "Nice to see things have changed, at least in whatever timeline you're from." For once, there's no venom or sarcasm permeating Nepek's words.
His expression changes, however, when he notices Ossanlin's hand moving for his Shredder. Nepek either couldn't hear Ossanlin's thought-speech or wasn't paying attention, but when he sees the Andalite reaching for his weapon with his main eyes fixed on Jeffrey, an amused grin creeps its way across his face. Maybe Myitt was right in that he has a dark sense of humor. . . .
Using the bar's countertop for balance, the Hork-Bajir stands up and saunters over to Ossanlin. "Welcome back, my friend," Nepek says, fighting the urge to rest his free hand on the Andalite's shoulder. Damn, was the alcohol hitting him already? I'm getting too old for this ****. . . . "I couldn't help but notice where your hand seemed to be headed," he says quietly so as not to alarm the rest of the bar to what Ossanlin seemed to be thinkkng. Although, with the Hork-Bajir's gruff voice, this may not have worked. Regardless, his trademark smirk, which is quickly becoming reminiscent of that of the Cheshire Cat, returns to his face.
"Despite being a fool," Nepek continues, "I'm not a complete idiot. And I know that when one being decides who gets to live and who can die, that's wading into some very dangerous waters. A 'god complex,' as I've heard it called." Nepek shakes his head, in a very humanlike gesture. "But I think I've outstayed my welcome here. If you have nothing else to say, I take my leave." Without waiting for Ossanlin's response, Nepek takes his hand off the bar and turns around - and after a few steps toward the door, promptly collapses into a heap on the floor.
-
"Oh yes, fantastic, send the bounty hunter who nearly just got killed through the hatch first instead of the person Cameron knows and loves," says Keshin, a bit sarcastically. "But yes, fine. I'll do it. Then again, you arguably look like even more of a stranger than we do."
Keshin slowly tries to untense his body and puts on a relaxed, detached expression. To be more specific, it's the exact expression Keshin uses whenever he makes any deal with the Empire. Showtime.
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"You've got Supers where you're from?" says Jeffrey, smiling oddly at Hunter. "That is, humans with powers. That's news to me. You're a freaking wolf and you're the only person I've seen so far talking about them. Everyone else says there are no powers. A shadow teleporter..." A dark expression very briefly flits across Jeffrey's face. So like The Bogey. Ellis Straylight. The one who killed me and ruined my life. However, it doesn't last. He smiles sidelong at Hunter. "...we've got those back at home. Shadowmancers. A lot of them end up in the military, so we call 'em Bogeys. Dangerous flippin' ****ers. Sort of a class of their own. I have no idea what---"
Jeffrey stops as the Andalite re-enters the Bar and gives him a look best described as a 'death glare.' Jeffrey gives the Andalite a grin in response. Somehow, the furball obviously understood that he was the one responsible for egging Myitt into shooting the bounty hunter. How rich was that! Was it his weird telepathy? Jeffrey has no idea. But the Andalite is instantly followed by a stranger that brings an eerie silence with him. The hairs on the back of Jeffrey's neck prick up as he "orders" his drink. That one's got power.
Jeffrey intends to keep right on watching, but stops as Nepek says...Something or another...And suddenly collapses onto the floor. Jeffrey supresses a giggle--- Maybe the bladed old coot had too much to drink!--- And stands up. He glances at Hunter.
"Should somebody do something?" he says. "Help him up? Or wait for the paladin to make a move?"
-
"Yeah, there's 'Supers' where I'm from but they're few and far between," Hunter air quoted Supers "a lot of them keep to 'emselves but they're there." He pauses to take a drag and blows the smoke upwards.
"And you're not wrong. If I didn't have these,' he indicates to his ears "I wouldn't be here right now."
He glances down the bar towards Ossanlin and Nepek. Hunter hears and sees Ossanlin slightly reaching for his weapon.
Hunter huffs and says to Jeffrey "I'm staying parked right here."
He sounded blasé towards what was going on, but he was alert and ready to get out of the firing line if the need arose. His visible fur began to prick up, almost in anticipation of a fight.
-
Myitt listens to Ossanlin list out her actions, past and present. She is impassive watching him, except when he twice accuses her of backstabbing. She flinches visibly.
Then the calm and friendly tone of their camaraderie, their normal banter, returns. Myitt watches as her friend talks about murdering the very person that had caused her to nearly commit murder, herself.
Myitt reaches a hand out and lays it on Ossanlin's arm.
"Don't," she says firmly, mouth quivering. "Don't be like him."
-
<I'm not like him. I don't kill for fun. Who will his next victim be? Will he actually succeed in killing some innocent person? I glimpsed his mind, Myitt, as I'm sure you did. He's done horrible, terrible things to completely innocent people. I can stop him here and now, for good. Cleanly, quickly...painlessl y, unlike the atrocities that he's...>
He twitches visibly as Nepek addresses him, squeezing a hand harder around the grip of one of his shredders. He directs his main eyes at the old seer. <I'm a War Prince and the Captain of a Dome Ship, I end lives by the hundreds if I must...> Before he can say more the Hork-Bajir has turned away and begun to walk toward the door. Just as Ossanlin begins to draw, the seer collapses to the floor. <Yaolin!> He shoves the shredder back into its holster and turns to the Hork-Bajir, analyzing him with his ARC to see if he had merely passed out from alcohol, or if he's experiencing some sort of internal health issue.
-
"A little help getting up would be appreciated!" Nepek snarls as he slowly, carefully gets back to his feet. He certainly got what he asked for when he requested a strong drink. It seems to him that the Bartender himself has a sick sense of humor. Although, was it really just the alcohol? Something in the back of Nepek's mind told him to let Ossanlin run a scan, but pride (and possibly clouded judgement) was getting in the way of that idea.
"I'm fine," he snaps at the Andalite. "Just had a bit too much to drink." He slowly makes his way back to the bar, opting for a seat close to where Ossanlin was. "And since I'm clearly in no fit state to operate my craft, it seems I'm stuck here for now." Nepek lowers his voice, making sure the other patrons won't hear his conversation. "But thank you for your concern," he says to Ossanlin. "As for him . . ." he gestures toward Jeffrey. ". . . If you choose to do anything about him, I may not agree with your actions, but I won't stop you. Not that I really could anyway. But if he tries anything. . . ." Nepek resumes his usual terrifying grin. "Well, at that point, my own safety would be in question, and I can't have that. Even I have to draw the line somewhere, and there's a good reason that my old friend referred to me as a 'walking garbage disposal.'"
-
Jeffrey stands up from his seat and starts to move, getting slightly closer to Ossanlin, Myitt, and Nepek. He doesn't go all the way, though...Mainly because he doesn't want to risk it. Something about the posture of the group screamed uncomfortable, and Jeffrey had been in enough fights to recognize that. He crosses his arms and ****s his head, watching. Huh. Would you look at that. Nepek...that's his name right?... he's back up and running. Jeffrey smiles slightly. Heh. You had to hand it to the crotchety old alien--- He didn't look like he was one to die easy.
Jeffrey does catch something from his current angle. Ossanlin was drawing his gun from his belt before Nepek fell. Jeffrey freezes momentarily. What the hell was the blue deer thinking about, killing him?! If you narrowed it down, it had to be him. He had no reason to kill Myitt, or Nepek for that matter. Jeffrey twitches and walks back toward Hunter, sitting down.
"No worries, it was nothing," says Jeffrey. "The guy's fine, whatever he is. I'd be interested to hear more about what you are, exactly. So there are humans and wolf people?" Jeffrey moves his hand under the table and fingers one of the remaining knives, just in case.
-
Dalik smiles thinly, gesturing Keshin up the ramp to the Bug Fighter. He stays firmly where he is, folding his arms across a bloodied chest.
The inside of the Bug Fighter cabin is unlike most Imperial issued ships. For one, it bears all the signs of a permanent residence, with a makeshift kitchen, bed, and even shower crammed into the tiny space. For another, the ship is nearly bursting at the seams with technology. Wires snake out of control panels, scanners are disassembled and tossed in corners. What appears to be half of a deconstructed Dracon cannon is shoved beside the mattress.
And, on her knees on the mattress, is Cameron. She is awake, poised in a crouched position like a wary cat. Her brown eyes are on the open hatch.
-
Myitt, still looking conflicted, forces her attention outward again.
She watches as Ossanlin helps Nepek up from the Hork-Bajir's impromptu fall.
And as Jeffrey approaches, she tenses, shooting him a glare.
<<That's right,>> she smolders, as Jeffrey backs away towards Hunter once more. She raises her chin, her mouth twitching with unspoken words. <<You walk away. You know what's best for you, don't you?>>
Her fingers clench around an invisible weapon.
<<You're staring.>>
"What?" she breathes aloud.
<<You're staring at him.>>
Myitt wrenches her gaze away from Jeffrey, back to Nepek, who is approaching the bar again.
Her wandering also meets Fayleth's eyes, and she waves her and Terenia over. It was good to keep friends close, in case of a fight.
"Are you okay?" she asks the Hork-Bajir with a wry smile. "This place tends to knock you on your face, if you're not careful." She clicks her fingernails on her glass tumbler, emptied of the red stuff she was drinking earlier.
-
Hunter glances down the bar once more as Nepek collapses and then proceeds to be helped back up by Ossanlin and sit at the bar.
He sticks a paw inside his coat and quickly flicks the safety off of the modified pistol sitting in his underarm holster, just to be safe.
"Well, it's a long story but yeah there's Humans, and there was once anthro-wolves..." Hunter trailed off, not sure if he should continue explaining. "To make it short, to my knowledge there's myself, and three others. F*** knows where they are though." He takes a drag and blows the smoke upwards
"It's not just Humans and me though. There's feral animals too, but nearly any anthro-animal you can think of exists where I'm from."
-
<He has the ability to influence minds telepathically. Depending on how strong your mental defenses are, you might not have a choice to do anything. He's completely insane, has committed acts of horrible atrocity for fun, laughs gleefully at the sight of innocent blood, and has the ability to mentally manipulate others. He's beyond dangerous. Nearly everyone in this bar just witnessed him attempting to murder two people he didn't even know. For fun!> Ossanlin breathes a few times, calmly. While the tone and inflection of his 'voice' alters during his 'speech,' his face remains cool, level, and impassive. <He has no reason not to 'have some fun' again, and this time he might actually succeed in ending lives. Pointlessly. To no purpose whatsoever.>
-
For a moment, Nepek says nothing, seeming to digest this information. He tries to come up with a witty retort, but the words fail him. "If that's all true," he finally says, "then do what you will. It wasn't my place to intervene anyway."
* * *
Outside the bar, a small Yeerk craft lands in the ship port with all the grace of a ballerina with lead weights strapped to her limbs. A human figure carefully steps out of the battered craft, taking care not to end up sprawled out on the pavement - or whatever material the ship port was made of. A headset in the human figure reads out directions in a synthesized voice: "Left forty-five degrees. Forward thirty steps."
After a few moments of stumbling around the shipyard, a lone human male pushes open the door to the GESB. Stringy, dark-brown hair covers his head, and his face looks almost sunken in with a patchy beard. Possibly his most defining feature, however, would be his glassy, pupil-less eyes that always seemed to stare at nothing.
<<We shouldn't be here, you know.>>
<<Aw, come on, it could be fun! I'll get ya' drunk. . . .>>
The human messes with a device in his pocket, and the synthesized voice turns into a series of steady, rhythmic beeps, which get faster with every step he takes forward to the bar. As he comes right up to the bar, near Hunter and Jeffrey, the sound is almost one solid tone, sure to drive anyone with sensitive ears crazy. He switches the device off before it gets too grating.
"Rum and coke, please!" the human says. He turns in the direction that he thinks people will be - by coincidence, his eyes end up directed at Jeffrey. "How's it goin'?"
-
"So we just kill him," Myitt says flatly, staring at Ossanlin. "That's what you're suggesting. We put him down like he's some dog."
She pulls her glass closer. "I'm tired, Ozzy. I don't want to attack anyone. I didn't want to attack Keshin and Joanne..." Though, some part of her feels a stab of guilt... "...and I don't want to kill Jeffrey. I just want to make him stop killing other people." She says this last helplessly, knowing that ending the creature's life would be the quickest, most absolute way of doing just that.
Though she is almost deaf in one ear, the relic of a dance with death herself, Myitt cringes right away when the beeping sounds out in a long, shrill noise.
"Gah, what the hell, man?" she scowls at the newcomer with the glassy eyes. She rubs at her good ear, the right-side, still glaring at the man.
-
Before Jeffrey has a chance to reply to Hunter, a newcomer enters the bar, followed by a shrill, ear-splitting beeping that gets louder and more constant the further he gets into the building.
The beeping begins as nothing more than a minor nuisance, but quickly becomes too much for Hunters' sensitive ears. Hunter emits a low, gutteral growl directed towards the beeping, showing his annoyance, but as it gets louder and closer, his growl quickly turns into a howl that stops as quickly as the beeping began.
-
Keshin glances around the interior of the Bug fighter with a slight smile. It didn't look that different from the one that he and Joanne called home, minus the proliferation of wires everywhere. Keshin opens his mouth slightly as he steps over two of the largest wires leading to the "bridge" console in the Bug fighter and looks toward the disassembled Dracon. <<My god. Dalik is a genius, just like she said.>>
<<Kess, can we focus on not gettin' our ass mauled by the little girl over there? Cause that's what I wanna do.> Joanne had seemed decidedly timid and sour since what had happened. And how could he blame her? She had almost died!
Keshin nodded shortly, and then stops, so there is still a solid degree of distance between him and Cameron. He held up a hand. "Dalik sent me," he intones carefully and calmly. "She wants to reinfest you and make sure you're alright. She's sorry that she left you alone. I promise you that."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jeffrey frowns. He's beginning to hear slightly more of the conversation from Myitt's end, and it's looking more and more like the blue deer has it in for him. Not good. Do I confront the thing or just leave it? I...
Jeffrey twitches as a beeping sound suddenly enters the room, along with a complete stranger. The Bar was getting crowded! How many space drifters could one dive take? Jeffrey sighs as the beeping sound dies down, and puts a hand on Hunter's shoulder. "It's okay, I think the bloke turned it off. Although I'll be damned if I know what it is."
Jeffrey glances around the room again, sighs. His shoulders firm up, and he crosses the distance between himself and Myitt and Ossanlin. He puts a hand on his hip. "If you have something you want to say to me, paladin, then say it. If you want to start a fight, don't start it in here, this place has had enough. And whatever kind of bone to pick you've got with me, whatever it is my powers do to you..." Jeffrey points at Myitt. "...she was the one actually in my head. Mmkay? I can't actually control anything but the intensity and intent."
-
Morgan took a moment to stand outside the door. How long had it been since he set foot in this place? It felt strange setting foot inside alone. In the past he had been with 3 others. One of them was buried here in fact.
After shaking his head in an effort to clear it, Morgan set foot inside. Being 6 and a half feet tall would usually be enough to draw a little attention, or even the fact that Morgan was quite muscular. The real attention grabber was the fact that Odysseus Morgan was a minotaur of a darkish brown shade. He wore sturdy brown pants, and a green shirt that buttoned up the front (horns made certain shirts troublesome).
Morgan glanced around the room, wondering if there were any familiar faces still around.
-
Ossanlin watches with a stalk-eye as Jeffrey approaches. His exterior remains calm and impassive. He doesn't even acknowledge the man's presence while he talks.
After Jeffrey falls silent, in one lightning-quick fluid movement, he draws his left sword and swings it toward Jeffrey's neck, stopping the motion just as the blade's razor-sharp edge barely touches the man's skin right at his adam's apple.
<Don't you DARE blame what you do on your victims, Yaolin-spawn. Your abilities of suggestion and coercion over-ride higher thought functions. You strip people of inhibition. Self-inhibition is one of a person's greatest attributes, and it's the only thing keeping me from taking your head off here and now. You've maimed, tortured, and killed for fun. You treat life as if it's nothing. As if in taking it, you aren't destroying something innately precious. You're like a psychotic child with a shredder for a toy. Except you've modified that shredder to cause the most pain it possibly can before it kills. You like seeing the fear in your victim's eyes...it makes you feel powerful. You love the despair and the chaos. You just want to watch the galaxy burn. You are the worst possible person and the galaxy would suffer no loss from your deprivation.>
Ossanlin pushes the curved blade a bit harder against Jeffrey's neck. <It would be so easy...quick...pain less. Unlike what you've done to your past victims.> He pauses, and then removes the sword, sheathing it again. <But I'm not willing to be so kind to you. However, the moment you once again try to harm a person in my presence, I will do things to you that you thought not possible. How does being preserved forever sound? Alone, conscious, unable to die or move on. No one and nothing to focus on but your own thoughts and memories...recollec tions of what you've done. I have abilities you cannot even begin to fathom.>
<Normally I would pity someone like you. But you don't deserve pity. You deserve every horrible, terrible thing that has ever happened to you.> He pauses, silently considering whether or not to say his next words. He doesn't even know the whole story. Just glimpses...a feeling of pain and sorrow surrounding one deceased person. <You deserve your daughter and her fate.> He calmly dips his hoof back into the bowl of water, drinking deeply again.
-
Jeffrey barely has time to even react before Ossanlin's beautiful katana is pressed against his throat. Jeffrey makes a *khk!* sound, surprised. His eyes flash yellow with anger and he makes full eye contact with the Andalite. He did that with incredible speed, greater than anything Jeffrey had encountered yet aside from a Flash or an Electromancer. ...I have to admit I'm impressed.
Jeffrey's amusement increases, even as a thin line of blood appears across his neck. A smarmy, self-satisfied smile curves across his face as he watches the Andalite breathe, paused. Jeffrey's body untenses as the Andalite sheathes his blade. He reaches into his pocket and he wipes the sweat off his brow and blood off his neck with a handkerchief. It was so narrow and precise a cut as to be irrelevant, but it showed how sharp the Andalite's blade and mind were. Any lesser user would have sliced his head off in that position.
Jeffrey chuckles mirthlessly at the subsequent statement. Did Ossanlin really think he could threaten to torture him? Oh, the irony of it! I've seen enough death and pain to last a lifetime, you arrogant little twit. Steadfast tin soldier! I've been with Dr. Death, Seer, and Lord Pyronis in my time. And that's not even counting what I've tested on myself. You're nowhere close to what you need to be to phase me. Go ahead and try!
But all of Jeffrey's bravado falls apart and churns into rage as soon as Ossanlin mentions his daughter. The ringing sound that seems to accompany Jeffrey's tenor increases to the point where it's nearly audible instead of simply an echo left behind in the Bar's patrons, and then dies down. Jeffrey glares at Ossanlin with a look that rivals the Andalite's own gaze. "Say what you want about me," says Jeffrey, struggling to keep himself from screaming at Ossanlin. "I don't know how you know it, exactly--- You weren't even in my head--- But it doesn't matter. I'm not denying any of it. But when it comes to my daughter, how dare you. You don't know anything about her! You don't know what she's been through. And you'd condemn her, for what? For being associated with me? How does that fit in with your ideals of helping people and fairness?!"
-
"Jesus!" Myitt hisses under her breath, recoiling back as Ossanlin's katana blade whips towards Jeffrey.
She presses her back against the bar counter, watching the exchange, wide-eyed.
Then, shakily, she pats her Dracon at her side.
<<Why'd you have to go there, Ossanlin?>> she demands silently, wincing outwardly, sliding the weapon out of its holster and keeping it at her side.
"I know a thing or two about her," Myitt says, finally. She meets Jeffrey's gaze, mouth twitching into a slow smile. "I know what she's been through. And I don't think either of you deserved what happened to you."
-
Jeffrey, fuming, clenching both his fists, turns to Myitt and sighs. He tries to calm himself, unclenching his hands, but mostly fails. "...Oh Helheim, I probably deserve it. I've more than made up the difference. But my daughter, and my sister before her? They didn't. They deserved better."
-
<I did not say she deserved anything. I said you deserved it. Anything that can actually cause you pain and regret is something you deserve. Whatever happened to your daughter and your...sister...has happened, whether or not they deserved it. If they did not, it's regrettable, but the fact that it causes you pain is a good thing.>
-
"Let's step back for a moment here," Nepek says in the most calm and collected way possible. "Ossanlin, you should know, if an innocent person is hurt, that's never a good thing, for any reason." Nepek drops all traces of his usual condesension when he says this. If anything, he sounds offended. There just had to be more to this story than the Andalite was willing to see.
"Now - Jeffrey, right? So you have this ability to influence people to do what you want them to." Nepek shudders a bit when he says this. Why I'm trying to diffuse this situation is well beyond me. . . . "Fair enough. As far as I know, Crayak himself descended down and bestowed this power onto you. But what I don't understand is, why would you use that to destroy the lives of others, often literally, as I understand the situation? What would even compel you to do that?"
* * *
Across the bar, the newcomer can do little but listen to the situation unfold. He knows there's an Andalite in the bar, that much was obvious by the thought-speech. And one of these other guys was some sort of . . . a killer or something? It was tough enough to make out what was happening with sound alone, but not knowing the full story didn't help matters.
He absentmindedly slides his hand on the bar's countertop for a moment until he finds his drink - at least, he hopes it's his. He picks it up and smells it - yep, rum and Coke. "Sounds intense over there," he says quietly enough so the patrons on the other side of the bar can't hear. When he speaks, his voice is soaked in a thick Brooklyn accent. Of course, the stranger isn't even sure if there's still anybody on this side of the bar. He did hear an animal of some sort. A guard dog, maybe? Either way, it was probably his proximity sensor that got the animal going.
"Sorry about that noise by the way," he says with a cheerfulness that matches neither his words nor his appearance. Or the situation on the other side of the bar, for that matter. He takes a sip of his drink. "Didn't realize it'd be as loud as it was."
-
"Yeah," Myitt agrees, nodding. "They did."
She nods at Ossanlin. "Give us a reason to find you redeemable, Jeffrey. Do you even feel any regret for all the things you've done? By the Kandrona itself, I almost killed them! I...I almost...and God help me, I wanted to."
As the newcomer approaches the other side of the bar she shoots him another glare, her fingers gripping onto her Dracon.
<<Idiot,>> she mutters. Then she notices he appears to be blind.
"Hey, buddy! Come over here." She waves him over, then realizes after the fact.
<<Did you...hear a Bug fighter land? That was some kind of Yeerk craft...wasn't it?>> she asks herself.
-
"Myitt, I entirely hate to say it, or maybe not so much, but..." Jeffrey shrugs. "You know that my powers don't work on me, right? Your little trip down memory lane should've told you that much. I'm immune to both me and any other Esper. As long as you were in my head, I couldn't bypass your will and make you do anything I said. You decided you wanted them dead..." Jeffrey puts a hand on his hip and shakes his head lightly. "...of your own free will. I just encouraged you to take your revenge. And yeah, that was fun!" Jeffrey smiles, which is almost eerie in this context.
"As for regrets that I have for the things I've done...Yes, I have them. There are things I wish I could take back, or do over." The ever-talkative man falls silent. He desperately wishes he could undo what he did to Derek, or to Dr. Death and her children. The former keeps him awake at night, and the latter was so, so wasteful, and unnecessary. "But I don't regret everything I've done."
"I'm not asking for forgiveness from any of you, and frankly to do so would be really trite and pointless of me. Regret doesn't change a thing. If any of you do want to kill me twice, especially you Andalite--- At least fight me fairly, and outside the Bar. If you don't, let's get back to drinking."
-
Myitt darts her attention back at Jeffrey.
"You're right," she laughs quietly. "Yeah. You're right. It was me. But it felt so right when you...when I..." She falls silent, frustrated, a sick churning in her stomach.
<<Just relax, man,>> says her host soothingly. <<Don't let him get you riled up again. You did it, you regret it, and she's still alive. We'll face her when the time comes. But for now, just...relax.>>
She grips the Dracon, white-knuckled, her hand shaking. Draws in a deep breath. "Relax," she agrees, nodding to herself. The booze and the oatmeal and the twisted feeling of the knife slicing across Joanne's throat...Myitt closes her eyes for a moment, until the trembling passes.
Then, sharply, as if nothing had happened, she shrugs and turns back to the bar. "I ain't killing him," she says off-handed. Again she waves the blind stranger over. "Hey, buddy with the Yeerk ship. Yeah, I'm talking to you. Blind guy. Come over here already!"
-
As Jeffrey moves down the bar to converse with everyone, the newcomer that was emitting the beeping speaks up.
Hunter takes the last drag from his smoke and blows the smoke upwards while he tosses the butt into the ashtray on the bar counter.
"Sorry 'bout that" His ears droop in slight embarrassment, and his tone echoes the sentiment "Yeah, it's a bit full on down there. Trying to stay out of it as much as possible"
Hunter looks towards the new human and the first thing he notices is his glassy expression. "Ah you're right. The beeping was the last thing I expected to follow anyone through the door here." He barks out a small laugh
-
Nepek's fierce, red eyes watch Jeffrey for a while, waiting for him to make a move. But the human's stance was almost casual, in spite of the way he very well could be staring death in the face. A part of Nepek had to respect his resolve, despite how clearly immoral he may be.
"I have no quarrel with you," Nepek eventually says. "If your intention njw is to put this in the past for the time being, I'll certainly oblige." His eyes narrow in a deliberate motion. "But know this, human. I'll keep my eye on you, and if my own safety, or the safety of anybody here for that matter, is called into question . . ." Nepek pulls up a sleeve of his robe, showing the frontmost blade on his forearm. "I won't tolerate that." Pulling the sleeve back down, Nepek turns to the BT and raps his finger on the bar. "I'll take a hot tea, if you will."
* * *
"It's all good," the newcomer says to Hunter. "Never really thought about just how grating that thing must be." He lets out a good-natured chuckle, happy to have found some sort of conversation in this place.
<Guessing this guy is the animal's owner or something?>
<Could be.>
The newcomer mostly ignores the calls from down the bar, assuming the girl was calling for someone else. Though, when she says the words "blind guy," it was fairly unlikely she's referring to anyone but him. "One sec!" he calls back. He briefly turns his attention to the other patron he had been speaking to before. "Sorry to cut this short," he says as he grabs his drink. Sliding his free hand down the bar for guidance, he makes his way across the room, accidentally bumping into Jeffrey's back. "Sorry 'bout that. Someone called for me?"
-
"Yeah, I did," says Myitt, looking the stranger over curiously. She smiles wryly. "Hold still."
She pulls out her computer cube from her black trench coat, and sets it on the counter.
The holoscreen that pops up floats obediently in front of her face, and she taps a glowing, hovering icon.
"Initiate bioscan," she tells the computer, and she slides the green floating screen towards the stranger.
The scan hovers on top of, then down the length of the human man's body, and back up again, spitting out a screen full of data in front of Myitt once more.
"I'll be damned," she says appreciatively, reading the Yeerkish text as it scrolls past. "A blind Controller. What's your name, kid?"
-
Cameron's eyes narrow into brown slits, and she makes a sound deep in her throat. It sounds painfully close to a growl, though on the human girl it's less terrifying and more worrisome. Her fingers grip the sole blanket on the mattress tightly, digging into the fabric.
She doesn't speak, but at the word 'Dalik' she backs up a half step, putting her back firmly against the wall, the growl turning into a hiss of displeasure.
-
Morgan walks over to the bar, there's something going on at one end but he's not ready to jump into anything like that. Morgan ordered a stiff drink and offered a silent toast to the Doc and Gaz. Wherever they were. Hopefully they were alright.
(sorry for the shortness)
-
Ossanlin closes his eyes for a few moments before backing away from the bar counter. <I don't need this. You all want to pardon the horrors he's responsible for in his past, and the one he's responsible for here, then do so at your own risk. Don't come running when he gets someone else to slit your throat.> The comment is directed at the whole bar and no one person in particular.
He turns and walks out the door, sending a single thought back, obviously directed at Jeffrey. <No one escapes their own fate. You'll get what you deserve some day.>
With that he takes off at a trot toward the woods.
-
Myitt turns sharply to her friend.
"Ossanlin, wait!" she calls.
But he's gone, and she hisses a curse, turning back to the bar counter.
She murmurs something in Yeerkish to the silent barkeep.
He brings another wine bottle, wrapped in black wax, and leaves a fresh, oily tumbler next to it.
"****ing hell," she mutters again, holstering her Dracon and looking back at the holoscreen. Takes a deep breath again and sighs.
"Blind Controller," she mutters again, not really registering the words on the screen.
-
Shaking his head, Nepek drops a tea bag into the mug that the BT provided. "How self-righteous can he get?" he mutters. "Chastises us for not taking justice into our own hands and then storming off. . . ." He chuckles to himself, confident that his biases were given further weight by this. "Typical."
While waiting for his tea to steep, Nepek looks up from the bar and only just now notices the minotaur in the room. He allows himself a small chuckle. "Well, that's something new," he says into his mug. The Hork-Bajir moves to stand up, but remembering his prior fall, aborts that action and instead opts to wave the creature over. "Excuse me, but I believe I already own the title of the lonely drunk in here. Why don't you come on over?"
* * *
"Well, you certainly called me out on that," the blind human says with a raspy laugh. He carefully takes a seat on the nearest barstool. "Name's Guppy. 'Least, that's what everyone calls me. Real name is Gaf 536, but my host's last name is Fish, so there ya' go." He extends a hand in the direction of the girl's voice. Strange that Guppy didn't seem bothered at al by the sudden bioscan, or the Andalite's minor outburst. "And you would be?"
-
"Myitt 195," says Myitt cautiously, gripping Guppy's hand firmly. "My host's last name is LaFauci. But you can just call me 'Myitt'."
She squints at him. "Gaf, I'm curious as to why the Empire would assign you to a blind human host. And of course, why you haven't had your host's vision rectified. I've worked on prototypes for fixing host eyesight." She smiles thinly. "Can't ever seem to get the colors right, but they do work."
Myitt swipes the holoscreen away and pours herself a drink. "Before you answer that question, I'm going to pour you a drink. Ever had redin? No - let me back up. Were you born on a shipboard pool, or on the homeworld?" The pungent red liquor smells an awful lot like sodden mulch as she pours a second glass and offers it to him, rum and Coke be damned.
-
"What?" Guppy remarks, though his face betrays no trace of confusion. "Not sure what you're talking about with all this 'Empire' stuff." He withdraws his hand and relaxes in his bar stool. "I'm guessing you're not stationed on Earth? 'Cause there, we only really take voluntary hosts. That's what they'll say, at least." He cringes a bit when he smells the redin, but accepts the glass anyway.
<Don't drink that ****,> Guppy's host warns. <It smells ****ing rancid.>
<Aw, come on. She seems nice.>
<For all you know, the **** could be trying to poison you.>
Guppy sets the new drink to rest next to his rum and Coke. "Thankfully, good ol' chris Fish here was a voluntary host. Lonely boozer who didn't mind having a little friend in his head." His hand wanders over to the drink that he brought over with him and he takes a large sip of the familiar drink. "As for the blindness thing, I never stuck around long enough to get that fixed. Left Earth in a hurry to go off and do my own thing." With that, Guppy already finishes off his drink and sets the empty glass on the counter, promptly beginning the search for wherever he placed the drink that Myitt gave him. "But you got me curious, where ars you from? Half this stuff you're saying is totally foreign to me."
-
Myitt barks a laugh. "No, buddy. I'm not stationed on Earth. And hardly anyone there is a voluntary Controller. What do you mean, they just let you leave and 'do your own thing'? Like, you're a trader?" Her eyes narrow. "Or a turelek?" The Yeerkish word for 'bounty hunter' makes her skin crawl, and she absently rubs at her neck.
"The homeworld. I'm from Tayon Yerralash. It's...like Sulp Niar, only boring." She winces. "Other side of the planet. Sucked up in a big straw? Andalite insurgence? Seerow? Is this ringing a bell at all?"
<<Dude. If he doesn't even know what the Empire is...>> Tara murmurs.
<<Shh. I'm trying to focus!>>
"And now I work for myself, too." She rolls her eyes over at Fayleth and Terenia. "Well, sort of."
<<Right. Because telling him you're a rebel won't mean jack **** if he doesn't even know what the ****ing Empire is.>>
<<Let me concentrate. This place brings in so many people from so many timelines. Just let me think.>>
-
Guppy snaps his fingers, and his cloudy eyes seem to light up. "Oh yeah, I've heard of that stuff!" Again, he lets out a chuckle, just as his fingers find the glass. "Man, that stuff is like ancient history now. Heck, even the war on Earth has been over for a long time now. Long story short, those of us who didn't want to trap themselves in morph, and of course, the grubs of those Yeerks, started up their own system of government."
Contrary to his host's protests, Guppy takes a small sip of the liqour, surprised at how pleasant the taste is, compared to the aroma. "That being said, they didn't exactly let me go out on my own. Truth be told, I more or less stole a ship and went from there. Y'see, I'd been told that there's a lot of lying and collusion going on, and that's something that Chris and I can both agree is messed up."
Guppy takes a deep breath before continuing his story, not giving Myitt a second to get a word in. "Plus, there wasn't much to do, not being able to see and all, and it just got boring. I needed to get out, explore the stars. Have fun with my life!" His mouth forms a wide grin, and he pauses for a merciful, brief moment to sip his drink. "Man, that stuff is great! Anyway, as for what I do, you were spot-on with guessing that I'm a trader. Actually, that's what brings me here today. Someone wanted to buy some ship parts off me, told me to meet him here. 'Course, Chris is convinced it's a little fishy - no pun intended."
<That's because it is. Who the hell would want to make a deal at a bar in the middle of nowhere?>
<Someone with great taste in booze, obviously,> Gaf retorts. <Come on, you can't deny that this redin stuff tastes great.>
<. . . That I can't,> Chris concedes.
"But enough about me," Guppy says out loud, nearly finished with his energetic monologue. "Like I said, you got me curious. What're things like in your corner of the universe?"
-
Myitt listens carefully to Guppy's energetic monologue, briefly narrowing her eyes when he mentions the war is over.
"So you're from the future," Myitt concludes. "My future. Or...a possible future of mine." She nods thoughtfully, rubbing a hand against her chin. "****." She punctuates this with a swallow of the dark red liquor.
"I have a lot of questions for you, but really," and she laughs, "I'm not sure if I want to know the end results of one possibility. I don't want to know my future. But you know what, it sounds like Earth won, and if Earth won, maybe the rebellion will, as well?"
Her dark eyebrows raise. "Now let's see how well you know your history." And she pours another glass of the stuff. "Or whether we're a part of your history at all. Ever heard of the Yeerk Peace Movement? Buncha hippies? Think: Peace Movement, with guns and a moon base. That's the Yeerk rebellion."
Again she peers at him. "And if you're lying, you just got a ton of information out of someone who really shouldn't be telling you any of this." She sniffles. "Gashad, does that word mean anything to you, in your future? Do they still teach grubs Yeerkish? Or was that whole shebang a systemic cultural genocide?"
-
Morgan hears someone trying to get his attention, and sees Nepek waving him over. Morgan grabs his drink and moves down.
"How are you? Name's Odysseus Morgan." Morgan reached out for a hand shake.
-
Keshin holds out his arms in front of him to show he's not holding any kind of weapon. He felt vaguely like he was trying to approach a rabid animal. "Hey, hey, it's fine okay? We are not here to hurt you. I promise you that. We just want to take you back to Dalik. Do you not..." Keshin ****s his head, responding to the hiss he heard earlier. "Do you not like Dalik? Is that it?"
<Kess, let me do this.>
There is a deafening silence internally. <...you're sure?>
<Yeah. I'm feeling better.>
<Okay.>
Joanne's posture changes and she sighs visibly. "Look, kid, I don't wanna hurt ya, okay? I was just called up here because that **** down the ramp needs you to come downstairs so you can get infested. If you don' wanna, that's fine with me, but I'm just sayin'...Stayin' up here won't help nothin.'"
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Jeffrey watches as Ossanlin leaves the Bar, shaking his head. So you're not going to fight me, then? After all that? Fine then. It was a little annoying. The Andalite had threatened him in public, insulted him, basically called him the worst there was, and now he was what--- Just running away? Not even asking him to come outside? Jeffrey rolls his eyes. He puts his hand on his hip and watches the conversation between Myitt and Guppy, who was apparently a blind guy from the future with a Yeerk inside him. I wish I could say that's the weirdest thing that's happened, but it's not. Better leave those two to it.
Jeffrey walks over to Nepek and Morgan, not even vaguely surprised or startled by Morgan's appearance at this point. He sits down back at the Bar. "Thanks," he says to Nepek, offhand. He's not sure why he feels the need to thank the blade creature, exactly. Maybe it just seemed as if the old man was less judgmental than he appeared.
-
Cameron's shoulders tense, but the feral grimace falters as Joanne speaks. Dark eyebrows draw together in confusion and Cameron slides off the mattress wordlessly. Standing at her full height she sways, as if drunk, and her steps forward are tentative.
When she reaches Joanne and Keshin she circles them warily, eyes roving over the turelek's body. Then, she smiles.
"C-close hatch," she says abruptly, in Yeerkish, followed by a string of nonsense words. The hatch smoothly glides shut, a small whirring sound indicating the ramp being pulled in. Outside, there is a muffled sound of alarm.
Cameron ignores the sound, her entire focus on Joanne. She tilts her head and gives the woman a lopsided grin. "You're my new p-pilot," she says. Her words are forced, with the sort of obvious stutter that only accompanies those who have been hosts for many, many years. Cameron doesn't seem to notice, though, and her sudden grin is full of childish glee.
"T-take me home!" she demands.
-
Nepek lets out a husky grunt in what passes for a Hork-Bajir laugh. "'Thanks?'" he says to Jeffrey. "For what? Not almost removing your head from your shoulders?" Nepek takes a sip of his tea, cringing slightly as the beverage scalds his mouth. "I'm no monster, Jeffrey. Not anymore. And despite what my actions may lead you to believe, I'm not entirely crazy." Nepek sets his drink down and makes eye contact with Jeffrey. "What the Andalite did was his prerogative. Perhaps he had more foresight than I to try to . . . eliminate you."
Nepek shakes his head. "I don't know. And frankly, as long as you don't attempt to kill me, or anyone else in this bar, I don't care. Nobody has the right to choose who lives or dies. Nobody." Nepek stares down at the bar for a moment after these words. He appears to almost slip into a trance before quickly snapping out of it, having noticed Morgan's outstretched hand.
"It's a pleasure, Morgan," the Hork-Bajir says. He gently shakes the minotaur's hand, taking care not to hurt Morgan with his claws. "I would be Nepek. What brings you to a place like this?"
* * *
"Yeah, of course I've heard of the YPM!" Guppy says with a tone of mild confusion. "But wouldn't the whole 'guns' thing be, well, the exact opposite of the ideas of the Peace Movement?" He polishes off the last of the liquor that Myitt had provided him. "I'll admit, I'm a little lost."
<So, it's the politics that loses you and not this whacked-out **** about being from a 'different future?'> Chris interjects.
<Maybe she's a little out of the loop. She did say she isn't from Earth, and I get the feeling she's a little tipsy, herself.>
<Or she's ****in' bananas.>
Guppy scratches at his ear and narrows his eyebrows, choosing to ignore his host's inferences. Crazy or not, this girl was good conversation, which is always welcome. "Now, gashad. . . " He drops his hand and drums his fingers on the bar for a few seconds, only to promptly stop. ". . . Sorry, not ringing a bell. I did know a little bit of Yeerkish, but I haven't actually heard any of it in a long time. Even then, the only words I knew, I picked up from old-timers." Guppy leans back in his seat. "Sad to say, but we really aren't taught Yeerkish anymore. Shame, because I'm still a little interested in the 'old language,' as a lot of people call it."
Guppy momentarily turns his attention to the BT, wherever he is. "Bartender, mojito please?" He turns back to Myitt. "Anyway, you said something earlier that went way over my head. Turelek, or something? You're gonna have to fill me in on all that, 'cause I got no clue." Guppy lets out a small giggle. "But I gotta ask, why would I be lying to you? Someone got it out for this rebellion or something?"
-
"I was here some time ago with comrades of mine. Left here and took up a post as head of Security on a space station. One of my comrades, she was Station doctor, was sent on a mission and went missing. No clue what happened to her."
Morgan took a swallow of his drink.
"Just happened to be passing nearby. This place is kind of special. Another friend of mine is buried outside, and I rediscovered my daughter here. Haven't seen her in ages either."
-
Joanne's eyes widen as Cameron closes the hatch. She glances wildly between the door and her location, realizing that basically they've just been locked inside. <****! That little ****! What the hell do we do now?!>
<Joanne...just....st ay calm. I'm not coming back. I think she is only going to talk to you. Obviously...Dalik didn't exactly warn us that her host is not spectacularly voluntary. Which...>
<Which isn't ****ing good, okay?!>
<Hopefully Dalik has some kind of backup plan for this situation. But if we don't get a response from outside in a few minutes, let's Stun the little twit and try and find a way out. Stall for time.>
<Okay.>
Joanne moves her hand to her belt and shifts her Dracon's dial to stun. She then says, "Listen...I can't take yeh home because I've got no flippin' idea where your home is, okay? Earth is bein' a lil' too vague for my liking, mmkay? I dunno how much you know 'bout what I'm sayin', but this ain' right. Do you not like the Yeerk out there?" Joanne points to the door.
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"You found someone you loved in this dump?" says Jeffrey, giving Morgan a quizzical look. "And someone else you loved died here? What is it about this place? The Andalite who just left reminds me a lot of someone I loved, too."
-
Morgan chuckled. "It sounds pretty crazy, doesn't it? I gave up trying to understand or explain this place. Take the instance with my daughter. When I found her she was way older than she should have been. Had to have been 18 at the time, but she should have been around 4. Some mess with the time-space continuum or something like that."
-
Cameron tilts her head back to look at Joanne, still grinning that lopsided grin. "Shoot m-me and I shoot you," she says proudly. "The other one already t-tried that. I turned on th-th-the interior security and my shield." She giggles, gesturing to a small device hooked onto her belt. It looks almost exactly like an Imperial comm link, black and flat and unremarkable, save three green lights that glow from the side.
She begins to circle Joanne again, a curious animal investigating her new toy. "D-Dalik," she murmurs under her breath, abruptly angry. "The v-voice in my head. He went away. He p-promised he would never go away." Her lip curls angrily, and she walks over to the navigation console. "Home. Now." The way she says it isn't unlike a small child on the verge of a temper tantrum.
-
"Something like that," Myitt grates, staring balefully at Guppy. "You're from a future that, as far as I know, hasn't happened yet. And where I'm from? When I'm from? The war for Earth is still very much going on."
She regards him, wondering just how much she should divulge.
Finally she sighs and pours another, smaller glass of the red stuff.
"You've heard of the Yeerk Peace Movement. What, from your history books?" Her eyes narrow. "But you haven't heard of the Yeerk rebellion. That's odd, considering the latter sprang from the former. Maybe we don't exist in your timeline."
Myitt shrugs, taking a sip. "If you don't know much Yeerkish, then you don't know the words for 'death warrant' or 'bounty hunter'. And, you know..." She gestures vaguely with the glass tumbler, clearing her throat. "If you aren't in the middle of a war, there's probably no real reason to learn 'em, either." Suddenly she laughs, incredulous, and a little drunk. "You're from a place where humans and Yeerks live together. Just like me. Except we're fighting to get to where you are."
Shakily she sets the drink down. She stares in front of her at the rows of bottles behind the bar. "A place where we won. And maybe where we lost at the same time." Again a broken smile.
-
"I kinda figured," Guppy says, holding an open hand on the bar for his drink. When he hears the glass clink on the counter, he sighs and begins searching for it. "From what you said before, at least, I got the feeling the war wasn't quite over for you. I think I overheard one of them sayin' something about a 'space time continuum mess' or something?" He gestures down the bar in the general direction of Nepek, Jeffrey, and Morgan. "Could explain how we're both here, bein' from different points in time and all. Though that does raise the question of why a client would want to meet here."
Guppy brings his hand back down to his pocket and presses a couple buttons on his device, making sure it was set to the right communication channel. "Speaking of which, he was supposed to be here by now. Dunno what's up with that." He turns a knob up on the device, increasing the volume at the potential risk of annoying potentially everybody else in the Bar once again should something come through. "Hey, you think you can help me find my drink?"
-
Myitt reaches across and slides the glass until it touches Guppy's hand.
"There you go," she says lightly. "So, who's your contact? Maybe he's headed toward the wrong universe?" She smiles thinly.
-
"Thanks," Guppy says warmly, wrapping his fingers around the highball glass. "My contact . . . y'know, now that I think about it, this guy didn't really give me much info on himself." He sniffs at his drink to make sure Myitt gave him the right one. Definitely smelled like mint. "Sent me off to some obscure part of the universe to bargain for some part I've never even heard of. No clue why he couldn't go get it himself, but I'm sure he's got his reasons."
<<Gaf, I keep telling you, think about this for two seconds. This screams, "trap.">>
<<You're just being cynical,>> Guppy retorted to his host.
<<Am I?>> Guppy's face goes blank while he has his private conversation with Chris. <<Then why, pray tell, does this guy send you off to do something he could just as easily do himself, then send you to the ass-end of nowhere to drop it off? It doesn't make sense.>>
<<Look, I got this. And if anything happens, I got a good feeling this Myitt girl has my back.>>
<<Or she's in on whatever's going on.>>
<<I'll figure it out, alright?>> For fear of boring Myitt, Guppy cuts this mental dialogue short. "This is the 'Galaxy's Edge Space Bar,' right? Or something like that?" He laughs and takes a long sip of his mojito. "Would be a bit of a pain if I ended up up at the wrong place."
-
She barks a laugh.
<<Boy,>> she crows internally. <<These poor suckers sure are in for it, if they don't know a thing about this place.>>
<<So, hurry up and answer!>> Tara cries. <<Stop laughing like a maniac - respond!>>
Myitt grins, wiping her eyes. "Yeah, so this is the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar. I take it this is your first time here?" She swallows another peal of laughter with liquor. "Whoever your contact is, sounds like he doesn't like to deal in details. But it's good to know the, uh, trading business is still going strong in your...version of the future."
She sits back, regarding him curiously. "You're blind. One of the high points of having a host is, you know, not being blind. Let me tell you, Gaf, there are ways to fix that, depending of course on the type of blindness."
-
"Yeah, never been to this little corner of the universe before," Guppy says with a smile. "Actually, I didn't even know it existed til now. Weird, considering how busy it seems to be." He downs the rest of his drink, not giving a second thought about it. "So, I'm gonna take a guess you're a regular?"
Guppy chuckles softly and slides his glass back down toward the bartender. "So, you say it's possible for me to see? I'm not gonna lie, I'm tempted. Seriously, imagine what it's like to finally get a host, some sort of vessel to see the universe, and he's blind as a bat!" He lets out a laugh, quickly followed by a small cough. "So yeah, I'm a little intrigued."
-
<Great. Fantastic. Now what? How do we contact Dalik?>
<I'm not certain. Let me get a look at the Bug fighter's controls and see if there is a manual way to open the hatch we can use without getting ourselves shot. It doesn't seem likely, however.>
<So in other words we might just be ****ed?>
<We may just be ****ed.>
"Look, Cameron..." Joanne sighs, following her to the console. She glances down at the machine, but doesn't actually operate it. "I don' know why Dalik left you. At all. But probably if he did, he's got himself a reason, yeah? If he did somethin' he said he'd never do, I don' think he's got anythin' against ya. In fact, he's..." Joanne points back at the door. "He's literally outside right now in that 16th century guy. He wants to come back. You can not believe me, but I've got no reason to lie."
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"Well, that would explain why the Yeerks keep running into people from different points in the timeline," says Jeffrey. "I mean, that Ossanlin guy said he came from a timeline he literally rewrote. Into something where his friends didn't die. I still would give anything for that power. I told the guy as much."
Jeffrey smiles slightly. "...I have a daughter too. Rosie. She's...really sweet. A bit brash. Sometimes impulsive. I think she always wanted to grow up into something I didn't recognize."
-
"I was amazed. She was so much like her mother last I saw. Just wish I could have seen her grow up to become the young woman she is now. Been a part of her life, ya know?"
(sorry this is so short)
-
Myitt snickers, looking down at her drink. "Yeah," she says with a cryptic smile. "You could say I'm a regular here."
She glances up at him. "I think I can imagine a little of what you describe," she continues. "Though there are ways to fix it, as I said. Tell me, is your host blind from birth? Was there some kind of accident? It all depends on how intact his retinas are, and the health of the optic nerve."
-
"No good reason," Cameron responds firmly. "None." Then, as abruptly as the tantrum seemed in danger of boiling over, it dissipates. Cameron brings up a holoscreen and lets out a squeal of joy. "This one!" she says, pointing to the nav console. It's showing Earth, and the various trajectories that could get them there. For some reason the initial stages of the journey are a bit...fuzzy. Their own location is being read as nonexistent.
"I live at 5435 Palm Street, Santa Barbara, California," she says, reciting it in the sing-song way of a child who has been forced to memorize her address. "With my mommy and my daddy and my little brother." She folds her arms across her chest and watches expectantly.
-
Guppy breathes out a laugh in disbelief. "It'd be nothing short of a miracle if you could help, Myitt. To answer your question, Chris has been blind ever since he could remember. Honestly, I think this would be as amazing for him as it sound like it is to me. . . ."
<<Gaf, lemme take over for a second.>>
<<Huh?>>
<<Let me talk to her. I'll admit, I'm interested, but this still sounds way too good to be true.>>
"Actually," Guppy says aloud, "you mind if he talks to you for a second? I think he has a few hangups about this whole thing."
-
Myitt blinks, staring at Gaf, momentarily incredulous.
<<The hell did you expect, man?>> says Tara. <<He's from a place where Yeerks and humans live together and hold hands and sing ****in' kumbaya.>>
She clears her throat. "Yeah, sure. Of course. Remind me of your name again, kid?"
-
Immediately after Myitt gives her approval, Guppy's shoulders slump down and he lets his legs dangle freely from the bar stool, instead of resting his feet on the support bar. Despite his more relaxed posture, though, his facial expression seems to become more intense, and his eyes, while still not truly focusing on anything in particular, narrow and seem to stare right at Myitt.
"Chris," he says. "You can call me that, 'cause I'm way more used to that than 'Guppy.'" Chris speaks with much less vigor than Gaf, and his Brooklyn accent becomes even more thick as he mumbles his words. "So, you got Gaf convinced you're some sort of miracle worker or somethin'. Not that what you're saying doesn't have me interested, but I'm just a little skeptical."
Chris runs a hand through his messy hair and continues. "Look, forgive me for being blunt, but I've saved Gaf's ass from making some pretty stupid decisions before. Sorta' the voice of reason, y'know? And when you're offering some miracle cure for my eyes, there are some red flags goin' off in my head. So how do I know you're not just ****in' with me here?"
-
"I think I know what you mean better than anyone in this dive would give me credit for," says Jeffrey, giving Morgan a nod. "My daughter..." Jeffrey sighs long and hard. "...she grew up before my eyes. Before I really knew what the hell had happened. One moment she was practicing knife throws in my training hall, missing every time--- The next minute she's got a date and she's sworn vengeance against her own Dad!" Jeffrey laughs.
"But that's kids for you," Jeffrey says. "Maybe I took too long to let her go. Maybe it all would have turned out differently between us if I hadn't been so scared."
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"Lis'n, kid..." Joanne sighs, rubbing a hand through her hair with a sheepish look. "We really can't do this. How long have you been up here in the 'verse? Years? There's no way they're gonna still be in that house. They might be ****in' Controllers themselves, long since transferred or whatnot."
Joanne gives Cameron a firm, sad smile. "You can' get your old life back. I know that better than anyone. Dalik is outside. An' he really wants to see you. Like my Kess wants to be with me. This is all due to that...That ****in' weird guy, I think. That Myitt was in! That has got to be the connection. Probably."
<<You don't know that.>>
<<I'm making this **** up as I go along, Kess.>>
-
Myitt watches Chris without pity, but with a dark sense of empathy.
<<If that really is his host speaking,>> Tara quips.
"Chris," Myitt repeats, nodding. "You're smart to recognize that I have no reason to help you, other than...well, interest in helping you. There's no catch. I mean, I don't exactly wander around with the tech you need in my back pocket, but it could be arranged. I could find what you'd need."
Shivering a little, she continues, "You're wondering what's in it for me." Her smile is evident in her voice. "Isn't a good deed frankly good enough? And maybe you deserve to see what kind of a **** hole of a bar you've wound up in, heh heh."
<<Nice,>> mutters Tara. <<Smooth.>>
Myitt pauses, then adds, "Are you from New York? My host...she's from Boston. But it's a'right if you're a Yankees fan."
-
Cameron stares at Joanne, head tilted slightly as she takes in the woman's words. By the time Joanne has finished the pendulum of her moods have swiftly swung back around. Tears prick her eyes and begin to spill over as her cheeks redden.
"I wana go home!" she cries, sitting down right there on the floor. "I don't wanna....d-don't wanna...wanna..." Her words evaporate into a slew of heavy sobs.
Behind Joanne, the hatch finally slides open. "Dapsen thing," Dalik hisses, using William's strong arms to lift himself on board before the ramp fully extends. He looks between Cameron and Joanne.
"What did you do to her!?" he demands.
Cameron, spotting William, begins to wail even louder.
-
"Yankees?" Chris says with a laugh. "Nah, c'mon, man, Mariners all the way!" Despite his apparent distrust of Myitt, Chris lets a smile creep across his face. "Haven't listened to a game in forever, though. But yeah, Brooklyn born and raised. Moved to Seattle when I was . . . ****, twenty-two, I think?" He sighs and takes a brief moment to reflect. "Yeah, twenty-two."
<<Chris, you're actually making small talk?>> Gaf comments.
<<Just feeling her out. Seeing if she's really as cool as she wants us to think.>>
"But Myitt, you get where I'm coming from, right?" Chris taps his empty glass, signaling the Bartender for another Mojito. "Like, I just met you a few minutes ago, and here you are saying you can maybe cure my blindness? You gotta admit, that sounds a little too good to be true. Hell, for all you've said about your place in time -and by the way, none of that time-travel **** is making a lick of sense to me. Gaf seems to get it, but I'm a little in the dark. But anyway, even though you've said a lot about this 'Empire' or whatever, I don't know anything about you."
-
"Fair enough," Myitt agrees. "Clearly we're from different places. Different timelines. This bar, it exists in a sort of linchpin in space-time. A crossroads, where different dimensions coexist, and the fabric of space is thin enough to tear." She snorts a laugh. "It's enough of a mental mind**** to make anyone start drinking, huh?"
She narrows her eyes. "In fact, we might not even be able to make something for you that you'd be able to use in your universe. In your timeline. Bringing additional extradimensional matter into your dimension could **** things up. But what the hell do I know? Heh!" She takes a healthy swig of her drink. "I'm not an astrophysicist. I just like math."
Myitt nods at the human out of habit. "There's fact number one. I like math. What else do you wanna know? Twenty questions?"
-
"Well, good to know," Chris mumbles sarcastically. "So you're saying this could **** with the space-time continuum or something." He hears the glass being set down on the bar and almost instantly locates it with his hand. "Doesn't sound like a great idea to me."
Suddenly, a blast of radio static comes through Chris's headset. He jumps and vocalizes a small yell before instinctively tearing off the earpiece. "What the ****?" He turns the device in his pocket off and pockets the earpiece, not wanting to hear that again.
<<Why the hell did you crank that thing up so loud!?>>
<<Sorry.>>
"****in' . . . God. Sorry," Chris says to Myitt. He takes a sip of his drink and tries to regain his composure. "Where were we? Right, twenty questions? If you don't mind, I only have one at the moment." He chuckles softly at his failed attempt at a joke before continuing. "You got me curious, why'd you be hanging out in a place you say is a ****hole? Gotta be some reason you're here, right?"
-
Myitt gestures with her drink. "Apparently I came here to get high and head hop," she mutters bitterly. She shakes her head. "But really, I'm a regular. Like you guessed. And this is the place I come to when I can't take life anymore."
She hesitates, then reluctantly adds, "My husband is dead." A fresh wave of sick grief hits her. She shrugs and swallows more liquor.
-
"Thank god," says Joanne, as soon as Dalik shows up. She immediately backs away from Cameron and tries to stand closer to Dalik. She sighs and facepalms as Cameron wails even louder. "I didn' do nothin'! I jus' told her I wasn' gonna take the chick back to her hometown! For God's sake, it's been years since Kess and I came back to Earth! Why didn't you tell me your freaking host was stir-crazy and doesn't like you?!"
<That does tend to be the norm among hosts, Joanne.>
<You stay outta this.>
<I can't.> Keshin's tone was deadpan, even for a Yeerk.
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Jeffrey sits idly at his table, drinking. He only makes a sideways glance over at Myitt as she states her reason for coming to the Bar. "It seems like the wrong place to go if you're trying to get away from life, doesn't it? You'll just run into other people's lives instead, broken beyond repair. Or even things you don't wanna remember, since half the people here know each other."
-
Myitt glances at Jeffrey in surprise, turning to face him.
Then her eyes narrow.
"Don't talk to me about things I don't want to remember, jackass," she seethes, before turning back to her drink, glaring down at it, jaw set.
<<Jesus, man, you're gonna grind my teeth outta my head,>> says her host.
Her fingers twitch in the glass, and she fills it with more liquor, setting the black bottle down with a heavy thunk.
"Can't believe him," she mutters under her breath. "'Wrong place to go', yeah, wrong place if you force someone to head hop and then ****in' slice someone's neck open, sonuva--"
<<Myitt.>>
The Yeerk forces herself to relax, just a little, and she sucks in a breath. She looks down with a blank look, realized she's squeezing the glass tumbler so hard that her knuckles have gone white.
-
Chris holds a hand up and sighs. He considers trying to put his hand on Myitt's shoulder, but thinks better of it. "Myitt, you okay?" He misses a good chunk of what she's muttering into her drink, but it doesn't sound good. "Hey, forget that dude over there, right?"
<<What the **** did I tell you!?>> Chris says privately. <<She's mental, man! The **** is she talkin' about, "slice someone's head open?" Gaf, we need to get the ****->>
<<Chris,>> Gaf interrupts, his internal voice much more calm than his host's. <<Chill, alright? I'm gonna take over.>>
<<Good ****in' luck!>>
Guppy's expression slowly softens. "Gaf here. Look, I'm sorry to hear about your husband, Myitt." The enthusiasm that usually characterizes his voice is all but gone, replaced by somber calmness. "I'll admit, I don't even have an inkling as to what you must be going through, but I know it's gotta be tough. How recent was this?"
-
Myitt starts, looking over at Gaf and Chris.
After a few seconds of blank stare, she says, "Two days ago." She lifts a shoulder, looking back at her drink.
In another beat, she murmurs, "Thanks. I...thank you."
-
"Wow . . . Just two days?" Guppy shakes his head and takes a small sip of his drink. "I'm surprised you're dealing with someone like me if it was that soon." He lets out a small, warm chuckle. "I'll admit, I've never lost anyone like that before. But Chris lost his mother before he left for Seattle, and I know that really tore him apart." Overriding his host's apprehension, Guppy reaches forward and rests his hand gently on Myitt's shoulder - at least, he was pretty sure it was her shoulder.
<<Dude, you got some balls of steel. I keep telling you, she's going ape****.>>
<<Chris, she needs a friend right now. And I think we're the closest thing she has at the moment.>>
<<No, I mean you probably shouldn't have touched her. She would have killed us if you messed up and grabbed her->>
"But hey," Guppy says, cutting off his host from finishing his sentence. "No need to thank me. We're friends here, right?"
Nepek finally looks up from his book and turns to Jeffrey. "I believe it would be best to leave her alone right now," he says. "I doubt you're someone she would like to talk to at the moment." Nepek means this to sound lighthearted and jovial, but the words come out with maybe a little more acid than he intends.
-
Dalik gives Joanne a dark look. "She hasn't been to Earth since she was nine years old," he says, his tone accusatory -- as if she were the one to put the idea in Cameron's head. He steps towards the teenaged girl, but she skitters back, pressing her back against the wall, her sobs turning into something that is half wail, half scream.
"Oh, by the Kandrona," Dalik sighs, pulling up short and closing his eyes. He presses his fingers to his forehead.
<<By God, do you listen to that every day?>> William wonders. <<She is behaving as if you torture her.>>
<<She's irrational,>> Dalik responds irritably. <<She doesn't know how to act when she has control over her own body.>>
"Cam--" Dalik starts, but her screeching is loud enough that it is barely audible. Exhaling in a slight growl he abruptly raises his voice.
"Enough!"
The strong, angry tones abruptly quiets Cameron.
The silence that follows is almost as loud as her screams. She stares wide-eyed at the bare-chested man, streaked with drying blood, who is glaring down at her. Tremors run down her body, making her shake violently.
Sucking in a breath, Dalik looks over at Joanne. "You can go," he says. His irritation with her seems to have been forgotten and his voice is soft now, apologetic. "I'm sorry to have caused so much trouble. I'll take it from here."
He takes a step closer to the girl. She doesn't scream this time, but she does shrink back, eyes wide in terror.
-
She flinches at his touch, but doesn't snap, doesn't move away, and doesn't go ape-****.
"I guess we can agree to help one another," says Myitt hollowly, staring down at her drink. Much of her earlier, vibrating anger seems to have dissipated. "I've...been having a bad few days." She gives her drink a watery smile.
She hears Nepek, but doesn't respond. Silently, somewhere unconscious, she thanks him, too.
-
With his almost child-like demeanor returning, Guppy smiles at Myitt. "That's the spirit!" he chirps. "And man, I don't doubt for a second that it's been rough for you. I don't think that's something most people can just bounce back from, right? But you got me curious, how did he . . . er, pass, if you don't mind me asking? 'Course, if you don't wanna talk about it, we can change the subject."
-
Joanne nods slowly, swallowing the lump in her throat. Whatever the relationship between Dalik and his host was, it didn't remotely sound good. "Y...Yeah, okay," says Joanne. She casts a brief, worried glance between the two of them before walking down the ship's ramp and into the night. The way back to the Galaxy's Edge seems longer and colder to her than before, even though the weather never changes here.
<<Most long term host-Yeerk relationships are like that, Joanne.>>
Joanne blinks twice and nods slowly. <<Yeah, Kess, I know, I know, but...It's just wrong. That woman doesn't even know who she is anymore!>>
<<And if I had not decided that I didn't want to be a monster, that day...you wouldn't know who you were either. You have reason to be grateful.>>
It was perhaps a reason that had not occurred to her until now. Joanne swings open the double doors to the Bar and walks in, getting a look around. Myitt was alone, this time. Myitt had tried to murder her. It had all happened in a flash--- The gleam of the knive, the pain, and then she was on the floor. Joanne unsteadily walked half of the way toward Myitt, hand falling naturally to where her Dracon was. It would be so easy to give the woman a shot to the face in kind...but so pointless.
<<I want answers.>>
Joanne stopped in front of Myitt, still standing, cleared her throat and said, "...why'd you do it? Why'd you attack us?"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jeffrey sighed. Touchy woman! I only encouraged her to do what she was going to do anyway and the whole freaking Bar just flips out! What, she'll threaten it but can't take the follow-through? It's such bull****. Jeffrey takes a sip of his drink and slams it down.
He glances sideways at Nepek as he speaks, and then says, "Okay fine. Sounds fair. I'll try and see if I can relax for the moment."
-
"He was shot," says Myitt flatly. "An Imperial dapsen **** shot his legs half off. My...my other half, Illim. He's still alive. But Daniel..." She trails off, too exhausted for tears, and ends up just shaking her head.
She looks up at Joanne and Keshin as soon as they address her. Myitt, for her part, raises her glass.
"I'm glad you're not dead," she offers, with no further explanation. "And I'm sorry I tried to slice your throat open."
-
The hatch closes behind Joanne as she leaves, closing Dalik and Cameron -- and William -- in. It hulks, silent, the ship powered down.
In the bar, Terenia and Fayleth have found themselves a booth in the corner, where they can watch Myitt without inserting themselves into the conversation.
<<She's being an idiot,>> Terenia mutters, not for the first time.
<<She's grieving.>>
<<Grieving isn't an excuse to nearly murder someone. Not here and not even her.>>
<<Oh please,>> Fayleth chastises, eyes following Joanne as she re-enters the bar. <<You were ready to do it yourself, the moment you saw the turelek.>>
<<That's different,>> Terenia broods, bringing her drink to her lips and sliding further into the shadows of her chosen booth.
-
"Sorry?" Joanne indignantly blurts out. She puts both her hands on her hips and glares down at Myitt, as if her intense stare alone would make Myitt less drunk. "That's all you've got to say? ****in sorry?!" Joanne makes a roll of her eyes and a *tch!* sound. She then poses as if pulling a nun's habit over her head, a mocking apologetic expression on her face. "Oh gosh Joanne, I'm ****in' sorry your ass was bleedin' all over the ****in' ground. I just feel so bad that I nearly killed ya, c'mere let's go get a drink an' a shaved ****in' ice together!"
Joanne throws up her hands in frustration, and then sits down next to Myitt. She crosses her legs and puts one elbow on the table. "You really get my goat, you know that? You don't even have the slightest justification for this loada bull? Nothin'?"
<<We did kill her friend.>>
<<We killed him by accident, I'm telling you!>>
-
"No," says Myitt simply. She shrugs. "Not really." Although she does spare Jeffrey the slightest of glances.
<<That's it?>> Tara yelps. <<She's gonna ****in' kill us right back!>>
Pausing halfway between lifting her glass, she adds, "I guess I just wanted you dead."
-
Joanne slams her fist down on the table. She winces and shakes, and then turns back to glower angrily at Myitt. Her voice is level but ice cold. "That's it? Just wanted to kill me, huh? After all we've been through, after all the **** we keep seein' together, that's your answer? You just ****in' murder me right here?! What the hell Myitt?!" Her voice raises from the cold into fiery anger, but the bonfire seems to die as soon as it's sparked.
Joanne takes a deep breath. "I get that yer bloke just died. I get that you ain't sane right now. I get that you're two steps away from the crazy farm. If Kess died, do you know how ****ed up I'd be? I'd be so ****ed up they'd be cleanin' entrails off the Blade ships. But like, that's me--- And this is you. I can' even tell which of us is in the right right now, and that itself ain't right. Get it?"
-
Myitt startles a little as Joanne's blow makes the counter shake.
She winces as Joanne berates her, practically yelling in her ear.
Myitt just looks right back at her.
"It wasn't right, what I did," she says simply. "But we aren't friends, you and me. The two of you...and the two of us." She shakes her head, looking away again. "I wasn't myself. You have..." She punctuates this with a drink, wincing again. "...Every right to be furious."
She sighs, looking down at her empty glass tumbler. "I guess I'm just glad I can tell you all this." Her attention isn't on the glass itself, but on her fingers. She'd used Jeffrey to attack Joanne and Keshin, but it was so easy to see the blood on her own hands.
"Do whatever you want," she croaks at last, setting the wooden stopper in the bottle of liquor and giving it a good tap.
-
Joanne looks at Myitt with an aggrieved, pained expression. A part of her really did want to respond in kind. To shoot Myitt right here. But that part of her was vengeful. And maybe even a little stupid. She furrows her brow and then breathes out in a sharp sigh. She sits down nearby, on the stool on the unoccupied side.
She holds up a finger. "You know what I want, BT. Make it fast."
The BT nods and the drink simply appears right next to her with no fanfare. Joanne rolls her eyes and takes a long sip. She gulps it down and stares at Myitt sourly.
"...I dunno that I ever had any friends other than Kess who meant me well," says Joanne. "The fights? The weird trips to Hell an' back or whatever? Guess I can' help but think of those as...things we did together. Even if as soon as I get the money, you guys'd all be dead in a hot minute. That guy, the Andalite...He offered to take my sickness away. Make me a combined morph. If...If I did it, I'd ask for one o' the people to be you. We look kinda similar, yeah?"
Joanne smiles sadly. "That's why it hurts so bad. Nobody paid you to do that." Joanne shakes her head. "I'm an idgit."
-
Myitt, who had been expecting anything from a numb shot that would end it all to another explosive outburst, stares back at Joanne with her mouth agape.
<<Well,>> Tara muses. <<Didn't expect that.>>
"So you'd kill us," says Myitt slowly, "and then look like half of us?" She struggles with that a moment. "Because you...think of me as a friend. A friend you'd destroy. I don't know whether to be flattered or frightened."
-
<<Joanne, what are you even saying?>> Keshin thinks this with the Yeerk equivalent of an exasperated sigh. <<They literally tried to kill us. Just now! They are not in any way, shape or form our friends!>>
<<I know, but....>> There was a hesitance, and a sadness, inside Joanne. <...look I'm really screwed up right now, okay? What just happened...This isn't like a normal bout. She tried to murder me for no goddamn reason, and we've known each other for years!>>
<<We've known a couple Vissers for years, Joanne.>>
Joanne sighs."Kess doesn' think it makes sense. And, okay, it doesn'." Joanne takes another sip of her drink. "S' still how I feel. Then again..." Joanne grins. "...you never did believe me when I said you bein' dead was nothin' personal. Always said you didn' know how a turelek thinks. But if you ain' got the same screwed up bits I got....then why are you glad I'm still alive?"
Joanne shrugs with one hand. "Wouldn' the world be better with one less turelek?"
-
From her shadowy corner, Terenia's eyes remain on Joanne, watching as she speaks to Myitt. She doesn't intervene, though one hand falls to rest firmly on the butt of her Dracon. Her other hand remains looped around her drink, feeling it slowly warm beneath her skin.
<<You asked me here to make things easier for you,>> Fayleth murmurs. <<Why are you staying here? Clearly Myitt -- this Myitt has no common sense. And it isn't even the Myitt we came for. The timelines are off. Can't you sense it?>>
<<It's close enough,>> Terenia protests. <<She said Daniel just died. So we're off by...what? A few weeks? A few months? It hasn't been that long.>> An ever-present ache in her chest flares slightly at the thought of her friend. It fades slowly, leaving behind a low simmer of rage.
<<Destroying the turelek won't help. They didn't kill Daniel,>> Fayleth reasons.
<<I know that, and I'm not here for revenge. I'm here to drag Myitt's sorry ass home,>> Terenia seethes. <<But we seem to have stumbled across the wrong Myitt, so I'll settle for making sure she doesn't get herself killed.>> Her gaze drifts from Myitt's dark curls to the back of Joanne's head. <<And maybe a different sort of revenge.>>
Fayleth heaves an internal sigh of exasperation. <<Alright, we're done here. This place is clearly no good for you.>> She seizes control with an abruptness that makes Terenia yelp, though the sound is strictly internal. Sliding free from the shadows, Fayleth stands, brushing off her rebel uniform.
Approaching Myitt's booth, she pauses a few feet away. "Myitt, I'm leaving," she says, taking care to mimic Terenia's surly tones exactly. "You've clearly lost your mind, and I don't have time to wait for you to regain your senses." She spares Keshin and Joanne a quick glance, then looks back to Myitt. "Don't do anything stupid. Anything else stupid."
She turns to stalk away.
-
Myitt shakes her head. "No," she tells Joanne. "It wouldn't be a better place with one less turelek. And it wouldn't be better, for me, if I'd killed you."
She shudders. "Now don't make me regret it. Are you feeling okay? Well enough to have another drink with me? Jesus. I almost killed you." Myitt marvels at this last, staring hollowly at - and through - the bottle on the bar counter.
"Bartender, get her a glass." She turns to Terenia, abruptly, sizing her up. Then Fayleth has turned her back. "Hey, what the hell, you're leaving? I thought you were looking for me? Dammit, don't rush me out, okay? I'm just enjoying a drink here with my friend, yes we've tried to kill one another, don't ****in' judge, alright Terenia?"
-
"Don't judge?" Fayleth echoes, turning back. She has no difficulty at all capturing Terenia's incredulous tone. "Seriously? Look, I want the turelek dead as much as you do, but Jesus Christ, Myitt."
<<So why don't you kill her?>> Terenia murmurs darkly.
<<You know I don't actually want her dead,>> Fayleth snaps. <<I'm just saying what you would.>>
<<I wouldn't say anything. I'd take my Dracon and end her miserable life.>>
<<And that,>> Fayleth says flatly, <<is exactly why I'm in control.>>
Still impersonating Terenia, she shakes her head. "I'm outta here. Enjoy your time with your new friend."
She turns away again, stalking towards the door.
-
In the skies far above the rundown bar, something strange is happening. One of the stars appears to be moving. It drifts through the sky, slowly getting lower... and larger. And brighter. And closer. Definitely closer.
Not a star, no. An object of some kind. This is pretty clearly a controlled descent. As the object draws nearer, it begins a wide circle of the area, still giving off a brilliant golden light.
By the time the object is circling only a few hundred meters above the forest surrounding the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar, it's every bit as golden-- and nearly as bright-- as Earth's own sun.
And from the object, echoing out across the treetops, a noise can be heard. There's a beat to the sound... a rhythm, almost. It's indistinct at first, coming and going on the slightest breath of a breeze, but as the object levels out over the lake and begins to drift steadily towards the bar's little shipyard, the nuances of the sound begin to resolve themselves.
"I can see clearly now the rain is gone! I can see all obstacles in my way! Here is the rainbow I've been waiting for! It's gonna be a briiiiggghhht (briigghht) briiiigggghhhht bright sunshiny daaayyyy!"
The object halts over the very center of the shipyard, belting out upbeat music and casting a light like the noonday sun. It's almost spherical, slightly squashed and elongated, and is only a bit longer than the Bug Fighters parked in the yard below. The light changes, fading from a glow like the sun to a series of white spotlights and sparkles like those that one might see from a disco ball, seemingly shining from every inch of the thing's surface. The myriad lights wave back and forth in time to the music, turning the sky, the surrounding forest, and the entire shipyard into a glimmering wonderland as the object settles towards the ground.
It finally halts a few feet above the earth, where it floats, perfectly steady, while a voice continues to sing, "bright sunshiny daaayyyy!" loudly enough to rock the bar and to shake the very earth underneath.
-
Guppy sits and listens to Keshin and Myitt's verbal standoff, trying to figure out just what to make of the whole situation. <<I knew it,>> Chris gloats internally. <<I told you she's off her rocker, man!>> Gaf, still in control of the shared body, takes a sip of his drink while Chris continues. <<We need to get out. This client isn't showing, man, and if he is, I have a feeling he's bad news. We bail now, and we might just get out of here with my head still on my ****in'->>
<<Chris, you know I usually listen to you, but shut the hell up. I'm trying to think.>>
<<. . . What!?>>
Finally, Guppy decides to speak up. "So, slow down for a second. Terenia, was it? Please, stick around for a bit. Even if you think you're done here, just humor me for a hot minute, a'ight?"
<<. . . Since when do you ****in' swear?>> Chris says, still taken aback.
Guppy takes a deep breath, trying his best to ignore his host's internal dialogue. "Myitt, I'm not gonna pretend I really know you all that well. We've been talking for, what, not even an hour now? But come on, you try to stab this girl right before I come in, and don't even bother to tell me? That's just . . . rude, on so many levels!"
<<Oh my god, you're drunk, aren't you? We're gonna die.>>
Nepek spends a good while resting his head in his hand, the scar where a blade used to be sitting comfortably in his palm. In all reality, he was finding it hard not to nod off. That drink he ordered was a mistake - a big one - and he made a mental note to be more specific if he ever needs anything else from the BT.
He's quickly jerked out of his thoughts by a strange, fast approaching noise from outside the Bar. As it grows closer and almost deafeningly loud to the Hork-Bajir, he realizes that it sounds somewhat familiar. "I can't be the only one hearing this, he mumbles. Is that . . . a Johnny Nash song? What? He shakes his head. And why do I know who made that song!?
It isn't until Nepek looks outside and sees the flashing lights that he knows for sure this bizarre turn of events isn't all in his head. "What the **** is happening!?" he shouts, equally out of fright and bewildered amusement.
-
Fayleth comes to an abrupt halt, stopping to peer at the blind Controller. "I don't have anything to say to any of you," she says. "I don't know you and Myitt is clearly insane with grief. She's not thinking clearly and I'm not going to waste my time trying to tell her what to do, because she clearly doesn't care to listen. And the last time I hung around Keshin for any length of time I ended up getting my god-damned arm shot off!"
Her impersonation of Terenia's fury is perfect, rising sharply into a high-pitched snarl at the end, fingers closing into fists at her side. "This place is bad news, and I'm getting the **** out of here."
She takes a step towards the door -- just close enough to see the blazing light appear through the grungy windows, followed by a blast of music. Freezing, she stares through the panes, trying to figure out what the hell is happening.
"On second thought..." Fayleth breathes, taking a step back. "Maybe I'll stay in here a little longer."
The hatch to Dalik's Bug Fighter opens, the ramp extending. For a long moment nothing happens, but then William appears, walking backwards down the ramp with his hands raised. He's still half-naked, chest still smeared with blood, making him look more like a pirate than ever. The Yeerkish holster that was around his waist is gone, but his long knife and rope are still there.
Despite William's obviously placating gesture, he is smirking.
The moment his foot hits the soil the ramp sucks back into the ship, hatch closing firmly. Alone, William turns on the spot, looking around the ship graveyard. A faint light catches his attention, and he tilts his head back as it comes closer...closer...
Raising a hand to shield his eyes, he backs up until he hits the rusted skeleton of an engine pod, mouth dropping open as the alien ship soars closer. His hands clap over his ears at the obscene sounds that rock the shipyard, but he doesn't run. He stays to watch, eyes wide as he waits for...whatever might happen next.
-
Myitt's eyes narrow instantly at Guppy.
"That's right," she says coldly, jabbing a finger at Chris. "You don't know me real well. And I didn't mean to--"
<<The ****?>> Tara wonders, as her gaze swivels to the door and the front windows. Myitt lifts a hand to shield her eyes from the sudden barrage of blinding light.
"Jesus," Myitt whispers, blinking until the spots in her vision are at least manageable, and she slides off the stool. In another moment, she's unlimbered the Dracon at her side and holds it steady, aiming at the door.
After a moment of heart-thudding indecision, Tara murmurs, <<What, you don't like oldies?>>
<<Shh,>> Myitt admonishes. The noise and the light is already making her head hurt. The ground beneath her quakes like it's about to tear apart, and she has to raise her voice to call out aloud, "I thought it was a ****in' a-bomb! Which one of us saps gets to go out there and make first contact?" She cringes at the deafening noise. "I don't speak ****in' reggae!"
-
Guppy makes no attempt to hide his laughter, having completely forgotten his prior train of thought. "Oh my god!" he shouts before noticing the reactions of Myitt, Fayleth, and Nepek. "How do you people not find this friggin' hilarious!?" he yells, a goofy grin plastered on his face.
"Because we aren't idiots!" Nepek shouts back from across the Bar.
Having not heard the Hork-Bajir, Guppy turns to where Myitt is seated. "I'll go!"
<<You know what?>> Chris interjects. <<You go ahead. We're pretty much screwed here anyway, so fine by me. >>
"Anyone want to help make sure I don't smack into a wall?" Guppy says in a desperate attempt to be heard over the oldies music cacophony while standing up and turning toward the door. "C'mon, any volunteers?"
-
The song finally slowly fades out, at its end. There are a few moments of silence, and then a voice rings out from the craft. It sounds like a human male's voice, deep and rich, but with an unusual and almost unnoticeable 'tinny' undertone. The voice reverberates off the bar and the trees, evoking a sports announcer in a stadium.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages, elder gods, decapods, heroes and..." the voice pauses. "Hold on a moment."
A few seconds pass, and then the voice rings out again, "He's known across the galaxy as the King of Keeping it Real. Some say he's like an Andalite trapped inside of a human trapped inside of a duck trapped inside of a larger Andalite, metaphorically speaking. Some say he's got three more..." There's a sigh, followed by another pause.
When the voice comes back on, it sounds slightly annoyed, and its tone is sarcastic. "I'm being told that this is a man who needs no introduction, so, you know..."
And with that, the spotlights shining from the object stop moving, shining off into space and through a haze that's surely been there this whole time and wreathing the ship in a halo of light a thousand feet high. A horizontal crack appears across the front quarter of the thing and slowly opens downward, the light from within outshining even the blinding surface of the object. Steam billows from inside with a professionally dramatic and well-timed hiiiisssssssss. By the time the bottom of the opening settles to the ground, it's become a ramp, squarely facing the front door of the bar, leading up into the smoky interior of the object.
A humanoid figure materializes from the mist, backlit in an awe-inspiring and almost definitely award-worthy fashion. It steps down the ramp with a casual grace, the shape of a cape or cloak flowing out behind it. As the figure emerges into the air of the little planetoid, its cloak catches a breeze and flaps around the figure's legs. It stumbles, slips on something or other, and falls face first at the bottom of the ramp, catching itself on its hands with a cry of surprise.
It climbs to its knees and stares for a moment back into the craft. "Oh, come on! You did the lights and the smoke? I can't see a damn thing!" the figure calls in the voice of a human male. This is a different voice than the one that echoed from the ship moments before.
There's an indistinct reply from inside the ship. The figure calls, "Can you just turn them off?" It sighs. "I thought I told you to wake me up when we were getting close!"
The voice replies again from the ship, and the ship's exterior lights suddenly all shut off at once. There's still a dim golden glow emanating from the thing's interior, and the smoke now begins to drift away and dissipate on the breeze. However, the object's exterior is now entirely dark. Unnaturally dark. Almost blindingly dark. Its color is so completely black that it gives the impression of being a hole in the fabric of space itself. It catches none of the surrounding light, reflects nothing, shows not the slightest hint that it's interacting with the electromagnetic spectrum at all. Nothing this black exists in nature, and it almost feels wrong just to look at it. The thing is too dark, in fact, to make out any detail or texturing on the object's surface, and it remains as visually featureless as it had when it was glowing brightly.
As the figure climbs back to its feet and dusts itself off, it calls up into the ship, "At least you didn't do your thing with the music."
About three seconds of silence follow. Finally, the figure shouts again, "Seriously!? Come on, man! I really need to make a good impression, and now I look like the biggest **** in the sector!" The voice from inside the ship replies again, and the figure visibly droops. It draws its cloak up around itself, then rubs its temples. "Maybe you're right! Look, I have work to do! If you're sure you're not coming in, I'll see you later!"
The cloaked figure turns and makes its way towards the bar's front door. It stumbles once or twice on the way. As the spheroidal thing's ramp slides shut behind it, the strumming of a guitar can faintly be heard from inside, followed shortly by "Here comes the sun, doodoodoodoo, here comes the sun..."
-
Myitt is at Chris' side, though she only offers one hand to help; the other, her right hand, is still clutching the Dracon at her side.
"I'm not drunk enough for this," she grates, as she leads them towards the door.
The light and the music have stopped so abruptly that she can feel her legs still vibrating with the absence of sound.
"Dude," she tells Guppy. "I'm practically as blind as you are right now. There was this light, and it...Christ man, it was like a ****ing star landed outside the bar." She blinks some of the spots away, wincing as she pushes the door open.
And she nearly runs right into the caped figure.
-
Rathien snores a bit, lying in the back room that had been some sort of passionate, snowy escape during his fling with Merc, but now was just an old storage room with barrels, boxes, and a cot. The cot had seemed dirtier than the rest of the room, so Rathien had opted to lay on top of a couple of the boxes. Drinking too much miruvin caused two unique stages of drunkenness. The first was much like any other alcohol. Lowered inhibitions, lowered perceptions and reflexes, etc. However, unlike regular alcohol, the passing out did not happen on the end of the drunken stupor. The stupor faded much more quickly and left a person (at least a person used to miruvin) completely lucid. The sedative action kicked in later, and it was this pass-out phase that had driven Rathien to the back-room yet again.
Music pulses outside, interrupting Rathien's snoring. "Shut that **** off Al..." he mumbles under his breath. "Why the hell?" He starts snoring again, but the music gets louder. "Damnit, turn it off!" His eyes drift open blearily to the bright flashing lights coming through the small window. Suddenly he sits up straight as an arrow, eyes wide open as if someone had dumped ice-water on his head. "No you didn't come back here...you son of a **** ****..." Rathien's face twists through a set of emotions, a strange mixture of sadness, anger, and...happiness. He could hide...strike from the shadows as per the norm, but no. No he wants Tobias to know it's him. He's beyond caring that the nanites would kill him. He'd been waiting for that to randomly happen ever since Tobias had sucker-shot him and left him for dead on that gods-forsaken moon. It was a terrible thing, having your life tied to another in such a way.
He stands, running his tongue over his fangs as he marches purposefully out from the back room. He pushes past the bar counter and through the swinging doors leading outside, pushing the human standing nearby out of the way. He draws his right-hand fighting knife from behind his back, noting the hooded figure immediately, and the human-controller known as Myitt approaching him. He shoulders past Myitt, right-hand knife at his side, and thrusts it forward toward the cloaked figure's belly with all the force he can muster, attempting to grab the figure's neck to keep him in place, all the better to stick him.
-
Ossanlin, feeding out in the forest, notes the approaching craft. The music...the lights. <Wonderful. Wouldn't know humility if it took his head off.> He shakes his head and continues to trot at a brisk pace. It shouldn't be surprising that Salem had returned to the bar, though Ossanlin feels little more than annoyance at the fact.
-
"Man, wish I could've seen the light show!" Guppy muses, still giggling like an idiot. "Sounds interesting, I'll tell you that much."
<<Alright,>> Chris tells Guppy, <<this guy is way too dumb to be dangerous, I think. Just a massive steamin' ego that needs to turn his subwoofers down.>>
<<So, everyone from Brooklyn, then?>>
<<Exactly. You don't think this weirdo is our client, do you?>>
<<Dunno.>> Guppy raises a shoulder, which likely would have looked awkward if anyone was watching. Although, given the current circumstances, it's unlikely that anyone is paying much attention to the relatively sane, normal human-Controller. <<I kinda hope he is, though. This guy seems like a blast!>>
Nepek does little but stare in shock at the entrance to the Bar as the newcomer's bombastic introduction reverberates through the air. His reaction is similarly confused when Rathien comes barreling through the Bar and attacks the cloaked figure. "Oh, for the love of Father Deep, can we get along for more than a few moments without assaulting somebody!?"
Having heard Nepek's reaction, Guppy wears a vaguely concerned look on Chris's face. "Uh, Myitt?" he mumbles in an attempt to keep the newcomer and his apparent attacker from hearing. "What's goin' on right now?"
-
"Yeah, sure, I could go for another ruddy drink," says Joanne with a casual smile. "No worries, Myitt, I'm fine." She glances at Terenia with the same expression, but there's a glint of menace or interest in her eyes. "And I think, honey, you'd be doin' the whole world a ruddy freakin' favor if you---"
And that was when a sound emanated everywhere in the Bar that seemed to break Joanne's understanding of how the universe worked. It was deafeningly, impossibly loud, and it was very clearly a famous Johnny Nash song. "Agh!" Joanne cries out, clasping her hands over her ears. She glances quickly towards both the exit of the Bar and Myitt and goes, "What in hell is this place throwin' at us now?! Blasted ****in'---"
The song stops almost as abruptly as it began, though. Joanne draws her Dracon and whirls around in circles warily for a few moments. She staggers over to the Bar and points the gun at the Bartender. "What the **** man?! I'm trying to get five seconds of peace!" The Bartender doesn't even blink. Joanne sighs in defeat. It was no use talking with this thing, was it? Except when you wanted a drink.
At that moment, a cloaked figure--- Or whatever in the world was causing this temporary break in Reality--- Had made it to the front door of the Bar. <<I oughta give this ****er a peace of my mind, I swear to Christ!>>
<<Joanne, someone's moving. Fast..>>
Joanne shifts her focus and suddenly a figure brushes past her, brandishing a knife at the hooded figure. Joanne didn't know a lot about what was happening, but she was still almost positive that was Rathien. There weren't many aliens who looked anything like him. <<I'm not doin' another attempted murder, Kess. Joanne licks her lips, sets her Dracon to stun and fires, aiming for Rathien's back. It was a chancy shot, though, considering how quickly Rathien was closing the distance.
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Jeffrey grows tired of the dull conversations and duller people, all of whom hate him. There didn't seem to be any angle from which he could speak or bother those who remained. And there was nothing else to do. It was beginning to hit Jeffrey that because he was dead and stranded, he had...nothing. No enemies, beyond strangers, and no friends. Half of everyone here was part of an alien war that he didn't even understand all that well. Even the Paladin's a product. Jeffrey rolls his eyes, puts a couple of dollars on the table next to his drink, and stands up. He pushes open the doors to the Bar and gazes out at the stars.
He had to admit they were beautiful. Although their shine reminded him of a person he utterly despised. Jeffrey grins, spreads out his arms to the light, and says, "Hahaha Ellis Straylight. You were right! There's a lot that's great about the stars! So many people and places dotted throughout the black abyss for a hundred million miles. So much..." Jeffrey sighs. "So much we never knew."
Jeffrey's reverie by the sound of a song his research allows him to distantly recognize, but impossibly loud. Jeffrey screeches, his own voice echoing at a piercing banshee pitch, holding his ears. He edges as far as he can away from the impossible disco ball that now seems to be landing in front of the Bar. When he's certain that he won't be run over, he gets closer, listening. He grinned wide at what he heard. Now this was a King's entrance! Whoever was in the disco ball was absolutely a showman like himself, and he wanted to meet him. He straightens his posture and his tie and waits with a polite, calmer expression.
Except that as soon as the man manages to leave his ship, he trips flat on his face. Jeffrey facepalmed. "Oh boy," he says aloud. "Yep, things like that have happened to me before." He waits for the man to get his bearings and watches as he re-enters the Bar. I need a moment to get in to talk to him. It seemed probable, though, that every other person in the rotten place would have a past with him and want to talk to him first. Jeffrey shrugs. He can wait a few minutes.
He walks up close to the impossible black Void of a ship and marvels at it. What was it made of? How did the cloaked guy get it to move? He reaches out a finger to poke the ship.
-
The cloaked man-- one Salem by name-- is pretty definitely a human male, probably somewhere in his mid-twenties. He stands a bit over six feet tall with his boots on, and under his hood is an unkempt mess of brownish-red hair that falls somewhere between curly and wavy. His face is thick with stubble, and his blue eyes are bloodshot, with dark rings underneath. His gray cloak doesn't seem to be one solid color-- it shimmers almost imperceptibly as he walks.
As he reaches for the door handle, the door springs open and he nearly plows right into someone.
"Sorry," he mumbles eloquently, stumbling back a few steps. "I was just, uh..." He blinks a couple of times, trying to clear the floating purple spots from his vision. "Is that Myitt?" he asks, his tone surprised and a little amused.
Then someone pushes past her. He recognizes the face and barely has the time to murmur "Oh sh..." before Rathien's hand clenches his collar tight. On instinct, he rolls to his left-- Rathien's blade skitters along his torso, tearing a gash in his cloak but not making it through whatever durable underlayer Salem's got on. The sheer force even of this glancing blow, however, is like a punch in the stomach through his armor, and he gasps as the air is forced out of him.
Adrenaline shoots through his system, replacing his groggy partial-blindness in an instant. He tries to keep his spin going, to use his momentum to jerk free of the Ildari's grip on his collar. He's seen Rathien in hand-to-hand combat; his only chance is going to be to somehow put some distance between them. His hand goes to his belt for a weapon, but he hesitates. The only close-quarters equipment he has on him is potentially lethal. He changes his mind, going for his Shredder in its holster instead, but the indecision has slowed his draw considerably.
Salem's ship is smooth and chilly under Jeffrey's touch. It rumbles with a constant thrum thrum thrum that can barely be felt through the hull.
A voice comes from the hull, sounding muffled and modulated, like the voice on an old film reel. Should Jeffrey's finger still be in contact with the ship, he'll feel the entire thing vibrating as it acts as a single humongous speaker.
It's a speaker set to 'low', however, and the voice is quiet, almost intimate, and friendly. "Look all you want, fondle if you must, but you break it, you buy it." It's the same voice that'd boomed out from the ship earlier. Now it sounds amused and somehow welcoming.
-
Rathien's emergency shields kick on automatically to absorb the stun shot which had arced through the doors from inside the bar, flashing around the pair, though Rathien himself barely notices. All of his attention and focus is solely on the architect of his pain. He drops his fighting blade and makes a grab at Salem's Shredder-wrist, attempting to hold it at bay as he moves with the human, grappling. He performs a swift leg-sweep, aiming to knock Salem on his back. "You sick, twisted, son of a ****! You demented ****! I let you IN god damnit! I let you past my defenses and you tore my heart out and threw it back in my face! Do you know how many people I've trusted in my life? Hmm?! Do you?! One, you unmitigated ****! ONE!" Should his leg-sweep succeed, Salem would end up on his back, Rathien straddling his midsection.
-
Joanne curses as she watches Rathien's shield absorb the stun shot. "Crap," she says. She glances warily at the new man and Rathien, and a slow confusion crosses through her eyes. She squints at the figure. "Wait a minute." <<Is that Salem? Holy ****balls what is that guy doing here...>>
<<We don't have time to think about it! How can we stop Rathien without murdering him?>>
Joanne grits her teeth. <<I...I don't know! That guy is inhumanly fast and strong. If we get between them now, we're going to get killed ourselves or badly injured.>>
<<Then don't do anything. We've gotten in enough trouble for one day by doing nothing. Let Salem die.>>
Keshin's inner voice was harsh and strained, and he was right. But Salem had been the one person who had risen to Joanne's defense when nearly the entire Bar had tried to kill her. He deserved her favor, or every code on which they operated meant nothing. And Joanne had long since tired of failing to uphold codes.
"Hey you sick ****!" screams Joanne at Rathien. "Quit it! There's been enough death! Why don't you pick on someone at your own speed?!" Something seems to crackle behind Joanne's eyes, a rage Jeffrey would find familiar, lighting them up to a brighter blue. But Joanne tries to stifle it as soon as it rises. It wasn't worth it, although Salem was worth her time.
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Jeffrey's expression changes from eager to quizzical when he first hears the old 50's movie voice coming from the ship. The cloaked guy had definitely already left. Jeffrey had seen him go inside the Bar. Was there someone else on the ship besides him? It was strange. Jeffrey traces his finger along the ship and feels a strange humming pulse all throughout it as the speaker talks. Hmm. Jeffrey takes his finger off the ship and backs up to a position where anyone inside could see his whole body.
"Hey tell me: Are you a machine or what? Like Auto? Does my voice work on you? It doesn't work on machines," questions Jeffrey, being careful to throw in the general impression of an uncanny man wearing a white Gestapo-like military trenchcoat with startling red eyes. If the speaker could see the image in his head, it was working."Even if it doesn't work, if you're like Auto your diagnostics should still be able to pick up on that ****. My name is Void Val-- Well..." Jeffrey shakes his head. "For now just call me Jeffrey Barnes."
"This thing is cool!" says Jeffrey, grinning. "How does it work?"
-
Fayleth remains frozen as a cascade of action develops around her.
<<What?>> she breathes, digging through Terenia's memories of the bar as quickly as possible, stitching together context from the sudden movement of Rathien, the Dracon shot from Keshin, and the general ruckus.
<<Salem,>> Terenia supplies darkly, though Fayleth has already surmised as much. <<What is this, a ****ing reunion someone didn't tell me about?>>
Fayleth takes a few steps back, eyes scanning the bar. <<We're getting out of here. Now,>> she says, her anxiety spiking up Terenia's adrenaline. Unfortunately, all that does is make Terenia more irritable.
<<Or we could finally finish things,>> she says darkly. <<Ossanlin's here too. We could finally just -->>
<<Just what, Terenia?>> Fayleth demands. <<You aren't honestly suggesting we pause to murder all of the people who have slighted you on your last visit here. Not only is that ridiculous and a complete negation of all the progress you made, but it's impossible. You're pitting yourself -- a mere human -- against a turelek, an Andalite with some very un-Andalite powers, a human with technology even I don't understand, and...whatever that is.>> This last bit indicates Rathien, and Fayleth takes another step back. <<You'll die ten different ways before you get a word in edgewise. So let's go.>>
The front entrance is clearly blocked, but the back hallway is wide open. Decision made, Fayleth takes a few more steps back, stopping near Nepek. She glances at the Hork-Bajir, sucking in a slow breath. "Probably a good time to leave," she says, foregoing the imitation of Terenia's dark sarcasm and quick temper in lieu of her own anxiety.
From his spot behind the engine, William watches with wide eyes as a sequence of incomprehensible -- and impossible -- events play out. "This place," he huffs, laughing to himself. Unable to help a grin, he slides out from behind the engine, inching closer to the hovering craft. From his position he can't quite see the ramp, but it sounds as if a scuffle has broken out -- not surprising given what William has learned about the patrons of this bar.
Skirting around the side of the ship, he comes to a stop just behind Jeffrey. "I'd like to know exactly the same thing," he says lightly, eyes on the ship.
-
Myitt just stares at Salem.
She doesn't have time to utter a word, because two things happen almost simultaneously.
A wash of Dracon heat from the dissipated stun shot hits her, making her flinch.
Then she backs up and gets pushed aside by Rathien, who tumbles into a knife-slashing brawl with...
<<Salem?>> Myitt gasps, backing up further, Dracon still clutched in her right hand.
She recoils so far and so rapidly that she bumps into a wooden table, making it scrape along the floor.
<<Jesus, they're going to kill each other!>> Tara yelps.
Myitt recovers enough of her wits to survey the room, noting the position of as many people as her frazzled brain can manage.
And what weapons they had.
Distractions meant death.
Terenia was still here. That was good. And Joanne - oh, Myitt recognized the look in Joanne's eyes. It made her own blood pressure skyrocket.
-
Rathien is fast. Every bit as fast as Salem knows he is. He's going to die, here and now, and he knows it. He knows he has nobody to blame but himself. And maybe Thienal, but that's taking the easy way out. Each of Rathien's words hits home, like a dagger in its own right. Guilt, regret, loss... these feelings are not unfamiliar, but somehow this is different. This time, Rathien's words strike a place closer to home, a place buried so deep he's nearly forgotten it's there.
But it is there. And it hurts.
What comes out of his mouth, however, is "You nutjob! Let me... Oof!" He finds himself flat on his back, Rathien astride him. This, also, is not unfamiliar. He winces as he hears his Shredder land in the dirt beside him. He looks up into Rathien's eyes, for just a moment, feeling a mixture of anger and confusion and, somehow, relief, and a whole lot of regret and, of course, the rush. The familiar, heart-pounding, nonsensically giddy glee he feels at being in a tight spot, a dangerous situation, staring death in the face.
Al's right. He should probably start seeing someone about that.
He doesn't give Rathien time to think. With his knees pointed to the sky, the bottoms of his boots face the ground. With a single thought-speak command, he activates them, and their embedded antigravity lifts propel his feet skyward with enough force to flip his own weight end over end.
"What... in the world was that? Why, Jeffrey Barnes, this hunk of junk seems to think you're a psychic of some kind." The old-radio voice from the hovering black thing laughs. It's a genuine, amicable sort of laugh. "I am a machine, I suppose, if you're into labels, as it were. Maybe I'm even..." there's a dramatic pause, "Two machines." It laughs again. "But no, I'm just one machine sitting inside of a bigger machine. My name is Al. You may call the floating black hunk of junk the Little Brown Punum. Or... whatever you want, I suppose. It's certainly not particular."
"Why hello there!" says the voice, sounding excited, to the other man that approaches. "Jeffrey Barnes and I were just getting to know each other!" It pauses. "It works by magic! You can't see it, but I'm doing jazz hands." The voice drops to a whisper. "Magic!"
"But no, not really. It's complicated. Uhhmm..." the voice wavers, seeming to think. "The surface of this thing is capable of channeling energy very precisely. Some kinds of energy more efficiently than others. Inside is all sorts of stuff for generating, storing, releasing and even changing the form of energy, all through the kind of boring technical mumbo-jumbo that I can never stay awake long enough to hear about. There are also several pairs of underpants that I swear I told him to pick up." The voice sighs. "But that's unrelated. Anyway, Jeffrey Barnes, a moment ago, it was happily nomming some of the heat from your finger. And a bit of the breeze moving across the surface. And a bit of the starlight shining down on it. And some of the emotional and spiritual energy of this place. And a bit of the time passing around it. And you saw what it could do when that process is reversed. It gave off a fair bit of light earlier. It's still giving off a little bit of... well, of gravity energy, in essence. Just enough to negate its own weight. And sound energy. Which has less to do with the energy channeling of the surface and more to do with its limited flexibility, since sound isn't energy in its own right, its just our interpretation of a particular type of motion, so when the surface vibrates and... Uhhmm..."
The voice seems to reconsider its ramblings. "It's complicated."
-
Slowly, carefully, Guppy backs up into the Bar. Things weren't looking good - there seems to be a fight outside, Myitt didn't answer him, and he could swear that he heard Dracon fire.
<<I told you, this place is bad news,>> Chris says.
<<Can you save the gloating for later!?>>
Guppy continues to retreat into the Bar until he comes across an obstruction of some description. Said obstruction makes him lose his balance and fall head over heels onto the floor. "Ow . . ." he mumbles as he tries to regain his footing.
-
Myitt starts, staring over at Guppy, with half a mind to bring up the weapon and aim it at him.
"Jeez," she exhales, eyes wide. Had he spoken to her? Everything was so... "Are you okay, man?" She stoops down and grips Guppy's arm with her own vice grip left hand.
-
Rathien doesn't even hear Joanne and Keshin, or anyone else for that matter...his entire focus on Salem. He draws his left-hand fighting knife, growling loudly as he moves to plunge it toward Salem's chest when Salem's lower half suddenly up-ends. His knife thrusts into the ground and sticks, ripping out of his hand as the two pull a one-eighty, this time with Salem resting on top of Rathien's prone form, one of his arms helplessly pinned, the other barely able to move.
With its small amount of motility, Rathien manages to clutch at the neck of Salem's shirt again, pulling him close, this time kissing him savagely. This is not a sharing kiss, but a taking kiss...an aggressive kiss. "Wolves mate for life." He snarls at the 'trader.' More like traitor. "I gave you my most intimate secrets, and you gave me yours. Then you neural shock me and leave me laying on the barren rock of some god-forsaken moon, and I'm the nutjob? You're the worst kind of hypocrite, Tobias. You're the one who collared me." Even through the snarls, Rathien can feel the hot, angry tears pooling and dripping from the outer corners of his eyes. He bites at Salem's neck, hard enough to leave tooth marks in blood if Salem didn't stop him, but not hard enough to cause any lasting harm. "So if you won't be with me, you'd better ****ing kill me, because I'm not letting you ignore me. You can't just run away. I'll hunt you down to the ends of the galaxy, I don't care. So go ahead, you ****ing ****. Kill me. DO IT!"
-
Salem stares down for a moment, aghast, his lips still tingling. He knows there's blood welling up from the new bite mark on his neck, but it doesn't seem to matter. As if it's somebody else's problem. Even with Rathien's attempt at gutting him less than a minute in the past, Salem isn't ready for the vitriol, the raw emotion with which Rathien speaks.
He's vaguely aware of the other people moving and shouting. A part of his mind is taking notes, cataloguing for later use-- Keshin... or at least Joanne. Trying to help. That means that she still considers him an ally. Good. Myitt... or at least Tara. Terenia. And others. New faces. Not as many as he'd hoped, but some.
And all of this is not his problem. Not through the waves of heat that seem to swim through him as his mind is unsure whether to feel shame or rage or pity or regret or something else entirely. His body is still raging with adrenaline, his fight-or-flight instincts still screaming at his every nerve.
"You've spent years hunting me," Salem begins, quietly. "You've tried to kill me more times than I can count. Then suddenly, when you can't anymore, you 'trust' me!?" He's practically shouting now, the anger beginning to win the war for his emotions. "We had a good thing, but how was I supposed to know you weren't just using me? How am I supposed to know, even now, that this isn't all some ploy to find a way to remove your nanites!? That's what I'd do if..." he cuts himself short before he can say 'if I was in your place,' but even he can tell he's already gone too far.
-
Rathien snarls. "I just tried to kill you, dumb-ass! You think I give a **** anymore? The whole time after you ditched me, I've been waiting to melt inside out for no apparent reason whatsoever! Do you KNOW what that feels like? Knowing you could die at any moment without warning? Nothing you can do to prevent it? Nothing you can do to stop it?!" He grimaces somewhere between pain, anger, and sadness...
"I have always ALWAYS controlled my own destiny. My own Fate for ****'s sake! A part of me still wants to see you dead, and the rest of me doesn't want to live like that! If I'm going to die from this ****, I'm going to be the one controlling when and where it happens! YOU did this! After you FORCED me to keep up with you, I tried to make the best of the situation...of the mess that YOU caused! And through that...I...I started feeling comfortable. And...and I don't ****ing know what happened okay?! I just thought...****." The hot tears leaking from his eyes increase. "You and your damn pemalite-robot boyfriend. And I was...I was...happy. Happier than I've ever been, knowing there was someone in this damn galaxy that would ****ing care when I died. Or so I thought."
He pushes his balled up hand against Salem's chest, unable to muster any force into it. "You should've ****ing killed me on that moon. You should've bled me out on the rocks. But you didn't, did you? You abandoned me...threw everything we had into a star to burn and left me alone with the pain of it. You're a cruel bastard, Tobias."
-
Joanne, sensing a pause in the action, walks over angrily towards Rathien and Salem. She keeps her gun in her right hand just in case things get unpleasant, pushing past Myitt. She stops when she's standing right behind the two and says, "Hey! What the hell's goin' on between you two, aw'right?! Are you lovers or fighters? Couldja even bloody make up your mind?"
Joanne sighed. "Look, all I'm sayin' is..." She held up a hand. "You guys need to calm down. I almost died like...thirty seconds ago, yeah? If you're gonna be bringin' the death, you're going to have to go through me first." She gives Rathien an irritated look. "Try and attack him again and I'll shoot."
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Jeffrey glances over at William, vaguely surprised there's anyone else around out here. It seemed like the real action was going on inside. "Well, uh, hello there then Knockoff Shakespeare, glad you're around I guess."
Jeffey listens to Al ramble on about the particulars of the ship, making a cleaning-out-his-ear motion to indicate his confusion and considerable boredom. "Sounds like some kinda mechanical Energy Manipulator but with way more range," he says with a shrug. His face then brightens. "What I will say it is is cool! You and your friend back at the Bar put on quite a show! Nice choice in the late 20th century stylings for the song by the way! Gets the blood running inside ya."
"So if you're a machine inside the ship...why don't you come out here where we can see you? Seems like you'd better go after your buddy before he gets way in over his head. I managed to piss off everyone in there just by trying to do someone a favor." Jeffrey gives a "But that's neither here nor there" shrug.
-
At Rathien's words, Salem presses his eyes shut. He can't... he can't... when he'd injected Rathien with the nanomachines, he hadn't anticipated this. Any of this.
"Rathien" he says quietly, eyes still shut, "I..." He pauses, unsure what to say. Where to begin. Should he just tell Rathien the truth, take the easy way out? No, there's no way he'd live through that.
"I'm sorry." He opens eyes, now brimming with tears, which he quickly blinks away. He leans down and kisses Rathien on the forehead. In contrast to the aggressiveness of Rathien's kiss, this is gentle, tender, and utterly at odds with Salem's usual ****y demeanor. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I never meant to leave without coming back... well, no, I meant to leave, but it took me about five minutes to change my mind. I was on my way back." He swallows, shaking his head a little. "It wasn't as simple as..."
He pauses, and looks up at Joanne. "Hey, Keshin," he says, smiling sadly. "It's... it's really good to see you two. You're the last people I expected to run into at this place, but I'm glad you're here. Thanks for the assist."
With a grunt, he climbs to his feet, then offers a hand to Rathien. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asks him, indicating the door to the bar. "We've got a lot to talk about."
"It's exactly like a Mechanical Energy whatever-you-said!" exclaims the voice from the floating black ship. "Definitely the same thing! And yeah, I've been studying up on twentieth and twenty-first century Earth, because this place seems to have some kind of obsession with it. I swear everyone here has some strong connection to it. I just re-discovered that old vinyl this morning. I couldn't resist sharing."
"Go after my buddy?" The voice pauses. "Oh, crap. That's Rathien. The hell did I miss?" There's another brief pause. "Jeeze, they got into a fight? Can't I leave him alone for two freaking minutes?"
There's a sigh, and the seemingly-seamless black orb splits open across the middle, its impossibly black exterior giving way to a gunmetal grey interior as the ramp drops towards the ground. At the same time, three square sections of the bottom of the craft begin to lower towards the ground, the square feet moving noiselessly downward on thick metal rods, everything except the surfaces which face outward is colored the same dark, metallic color.
The three feet settle into the dirt at about the same time as the end of the ramp-- the ship doesn't move even a fraction of an inch as its various surfaces open and extend, but by the time they've stopped its full weight is resting on the three feet.
Footsteps can be heard clack-clacking their way down the ramp, and soon a man appears at the bottom. He's a bit under six feet tall, wearing a tidy, trim grey business suit and a black bowler hat with a shiny gold band. The tie that can be seen peeking out over his buttoned suit jacket is also a gaudy shiny gold, though this is interspersed with dozens of little yellow-and-black smiley faces. The man's dark hair and his facial features suggest that he's mostly Cherokee descent. The hair that can be seen under the hat is long enough to be called 'shaggy,' though it appears well-kempt and somehow manages to convey an air of professionalism.
The man turns around at the end of the ramp and walks around the ship to where Jeffrey and William are standing. Even as he does, the ship's ramp begins to close up again without so much as a sound. He approaches the two men with a warm, genuine smile, and extends his hand to each of them in turn.
"Good to meet you both in the flesh," he says. His voice is the one that's been playing from the exterior of the craft; he now speaks with no distortion whatsoever. "And you're right. I oughtta go check on bonehead over there," he jerks a thumb towards the bar, "before he gets himself killed."
-
Rathien looks up at Salem, incredulous. He can't decide whether to be furious, happy, or homicidal. He kicks his bottom feet up to land in a standing position, and then takes Salem's hand, pulling him in close. "You don't deserve the chance to explain. Nevertheless, my curiosity has the better of me. This does NOT mean that I forgive you."
He lets go of Salem's hand and turns toward the bar, bending down to pick up each fighting blade as he passes. He walks past Myitt and Keshin, tapping the flat of a blade between Keshin's shoulder-blades. "So much for the code, eh 'brother?'" He sneers at Keshin before glancing back at Salem. "Well, liera? We don't have all night. Or maybe we do. But I'm not willing to wait that long." He invests the endearment with a fair amount of irony and scorn. Given Salem's propensity to forget stuff, he might not even remember what the word from his old language even means, and he would have to remember since his translator chip hadn't heard enough Ildari to work properly with it. Unless that had been a lie as well.
-
"Yeah, uhhh, no problem..." says Joanne, blushing a bit and rubbing the back of her head. Getting thanked by anyone tended to make her feel awkward. "...it's just an eye for an eye. That's really all. What..." Joanne's posture and attitude suddenly shift into the stiffer, more authoritative gait recognizable as Keshin. "Never mind that. What happened, Salem? What is your relationship with Rathien, exactly? I think I speak for everyone..."
Keshin gestures out at the rest of the Bar behind him. "...when I say that what just happened scared the ever-loving crap out of us. Myitt already took a moment to stab me in the neck. If it's not too private, we'd all love to hear i---"
Keshin twitches as Rathien happens to tap almost the exact spot where they nearly bled out on the ground. The alien certainly had a way of cutting to the literal point of the matter. "The code in most galaxies says protect your own, but it also says 'Give back what you were given," hisses Keshin. "And we very well might owe Salem our lives. Last time we were here, he protected us from almost every other being in this room. Credit where it is due, Rathien, whatever your...relation to him might be."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jeffrey watches with interest as the ship unfolds, trying to track its movements. He was no Technopath or skilled machinist, but he did know a good piece of work when he saw one. He takes out his phone, presses a button, and raises the phone up to take a video of the ship in motion. If I ever talk to Auto again, he'd love a look at this beautiful thing. Not that I've been able to contact anybody from home since I got here. Which for him was an extra level of confusing, because it seemed like all of these Yeerks and blue deer or whatever could call people just fine.
Once the stranger arrives, Jeffrey smiles and shakes his hand vigorously. He looks up and down at the man's suit, and says with a hint of amusement, "I mean you could afford to have a little bit more decorum with it, but props. I like it. Glad to meet the man of the hour in person."
"And like, be careful when going into that Bar," says Jeffrey, gesturing for the man to follow him back into the building. "I don't know what you just heard in there, but I've seen everything from weird giant lizard birds to skeleton kids. Then again..." Jeffrey takes stock of the other man for a moment. "...you guys seem to be regulars, either way. I'm not. I just got here, and I still don't know how that happened. I'm pretty sure I died."
-
Myitt keeps a hold on Guppy's arm.
"Come with me," she tells him under her breath, leading Guppy across the bar and towards Terenia.
In doing so she passes by Joanne and Keshin. "I said I was sorry," she murmurs bitterly, hesitantly meeting their gaze.
-
As the adrenaline leaves his system, Salem begins to feel weak, and even more exhausted than he had a few minutes before. If that's even possible. There's a last spurt of adrenaline into his blood as Rathien pulls him close, but it doesn't last, and his little post-adrenaline crash continues.
"It's..." he begins, speaking to Keshin in a low voice, "kind of a long story. Boy meets boy. Boy repeatedly tries to kill boy to collect bounty. Boy ties boy's fate to boy using boy's..." He stops, frowning. "I sound like freaking Al, don't I?" He sighs. "Short version? We have a history, and there are a few things we need to hash out." He glances at Rathien and swallows. "Hopefully with a minimum of bloodshed." He looks back at Joanne. "I'll fill you in later."
He blinks, and stares at Myitt as she walks by leading a... blind man? That's a new one... then glances down at Joanne's neck. "She... stabbed you?" What little color is still in his face drains, leaving him looking pallid and almost gaunt. "For the love of Thaum..." he mutters under his breath. "I take it you two haven't exactly reconciled since I last saw you?" He searches her eyes, concerned. "What made you decide to come back here?"
Liera. One of Rathien's little pet names for him. As always, he likes the sound, but damned if he can't remember the meaning. Which, he figures, is fine-- the meaning is clearly conveyed in the tone.
Salem shakes his head, and begins to follow Rathien. He's procrastinating, he knows-- this is not a conversation he's eager to have-- but finding out what's happened to Keshin and Joanne is important, isn't it?
He sidles up next to Rathien at the bar. "I'm glad you haven't forgiven me yet, pup." He winces slightly. It's his favorite old name for Rathien-- half demeaning and half endearing-- and it's come so easily he didn't even notice it slip from his lips until it's too late. "I'd be..." he clears his throat. "I'd be disappointed if all it took was a near-stabbing."
He waves the bartender over. He can swear he feels the strange man laughing at him, though the bartender's expression doesn't change. "You got any coffee?" he asks. The bartender's only reply is a silent stare, but Salem nods. "Coffee for me. Black. And for Rathien here..." he looks at the Ildari, "miruvin tonight?" He swallows, and turns to stare at the back of the bar rather than at Rathien. "For what it's worth, Rathien, I'm glad you're not dead."
Al grins. "Hey, I know how to make an entrance. No need to go all-out every time. I was just trying to help Sir Gets-Attacked-A-Lot," he jerks a thumb at the bar, "with his."
He blows air in an exasperated raspberry. "So it sounds like this little slice of heaven hasn't changed one little bit since I last saw it. You know, it's been a dream of mine to open a dance club on the other side of this little rock. No stabbings allowed. Drive this place right out of business." He laughs at his own terrible joke.
He raises one eyebrow expertly. "You died? I have... so many questions about that. Firstly: What!? Also: How? Where? Why? When? Who and/or whom, if applicable? Aaaannnnnd..." he thinks for a moment, "Are you sure you're dead? Because you don't look all that dead to me."
-
"Yeah, thanks," Guppy says when Myitt grabs his arm. He doesn't seem to take notice of her intense grip. "Myitt, I think you were right, this place is a little crazy," he says quietly with a small laugh. He doesn't hear the strangers fighting anymore, so things seem relatively safe. For now.
"So, what just happened? CliffsNotes version would probably be preferable."
-
"Yeah," Myitt murmurs to Guppy. "Crazy ain't the half of it, kid. Short version, um..."
She smiles apologetically at Keshin and Joanne.
"Rathien and an old...acquaintance of mine, Salem, and Salem's...friend...they just...arrived and tried to kill each other. Or maybe they're on a date right now. I...I really don't..." She shakes her head now, utterly at a loss.
-
Rathien sheathes one of his fighting blades as he sits at the bar. Salem is shortly behind and at the word 'pup', he takes his left-hand blade and plunges it straight down into the bar-top, letting go as it sticks firmly. "Actually I'll take water." He turns his haunting eyes on Salem, refusing to break his gaze away. "I intend to remain sober, thank you." He grins, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He picks up the grubby glass full of water, a single ice-chunk floating within, and drinks, still keeping his eyes locked on Salem.
-
Guppy takes a brief moment to respond, giving himself time to figure out just what Myitt was saying. "So . . . I guess this is making about as much sense to you as it is to me?" He laughs. "Guess it's complicated between them, to say the least."
"And by the way, thanks for helping me out," he says with a smile. "Dude, you have no idea how friggin' confused I was."
<<Gaf.>>
<<Hm?>>
<<Didn't you say you were gonna get me drunk?>> Chris inquires. <<If you are, now's the time to start. I need to catch up with how ****ed up this place is.>>
<<That's the spirit!>>
"One question," Guppy says, resuming his conversation with Myitt. "We happen to be anywhere near the bar? I think I need a drink or ten right now."
-
Myitt exhales audibly. "Yeah, let's go and get us a few drinks, Gup." She tugs him over to the bar counter, settling in near Rathien and Salem.
She can't help but stare at the two of them.
Salem hadn't changed...much.
"Bartender," she says, "redin, leave the bottle. And whatever Guppy wants. And you know what? Put their drinks on my tab, too." She nods at Rathien and Salem, still staring.
-
William watches in relative awe as the ship's ramp extends and Al descends. Try as he may, he's finding it hard to keep up with all of the new technology he has suddenly been made aware of. Every time he thinks he has a handle on it something new shows up.
Al's comment drives some of the nerves from him, and he smiles, crossing his arms over his chest, then grimacing and brushing at some of the caked blood there. It's all dried by now, at least, but it makes it appear as if he's just finished a particularly grizzly bout of murders.
"Dying is easy, my friend," he says in his faintly old-fashioned dialect -- almost English, but not quite. He takes Al's hand when it's offered, gripping it firmly and then pulling back. "It's what comes after that's a pain in the arse." His gaze drifts to the door of the bar, where Salem disappeared. "Does your friend always make such an entrance?"
Fayleth has remained frozen during the action, standing near Nepek with one hand gripping the back of a torn armchair. She glances at Myitt and Guppy as they come near, then hisses an exhale. "Myitt," she says, stepping over to her, giving Rathien and Salem a wide berth. "We're going to go wait on the Skimmer. I...need to call Corliss and Reven and let them know you're alive and...well." She says this last word somewhat doubtfully. "You know where to find me if you need me."
She turns to go.
-
Salem sighs again. "So I guess you'll want... an explanation?" He glances over at Rathien, then quickly away. He sucks in another breath, then shakes his head and chuckles a little to himself. "I don't know why I'm so apprehensive about this conversation. It's not like I'm going to try to excuse myself. I was... kind of an ****."
"I suppose... I'd better start with the last time I saw you." There's one last pause, as he gathers his thoughts, then he seems to make up his mind.
"What we had was good. It was..." He chuckles, "kind of amazing, actually. Still rough. Still wrong. Not perfect, and that somehow made everything perfect. And I... I started to wonder what it meant." He glances at Rathien with a sad smirk. "I didn't know. I didn't know what I wanted. More importantly, I didn't know what you wanted, and I started to wonder. You'd hated me, Rathien. How was I supposed to explain your turn-around? Well..." he chuckles again, more bitterly this time. "If it were me... if I were in your place... I'd be playing the odds. Acting. Biding my time until I could find a way to wreck the nanites in my system and be in the perfect spot to..." He shakes his head and swallows.
The bartender finally sets a chipped salmon-colored coffee mug in front of him, nodding towards Myitt. Salem raises his eyebrows as he glances at her. He's not entirely sure where they stand... they've had at least as many bad moments as good ones... but at least she seems willing to give it a go-round.
Or to poison him, he thinks, shooting a look at Joanne's neck.
Still, that doesn't seem like the Myitt he remembers. And he needs her help. Starting out with that kind of suspicion is not going to do them any good. So he raises the mug in her direction with a nod. He takes a sip, scalding his tongue in the process, and winces as he swallows. "Ow."
He looks back towards Rathien and continues, "Anyway, once that thought was in my head, I couldn't get it out. It was eating at me. I couldn't shake the feeling that you were just looking for the opportunity to stab me in the back. And I... I had to run. So..." he swallows again and hangs his head. What he'd done to Rathien had been low, even by his standards. "So I did. I neural-shocked you. I ran. I flew from that rock. And then..."
He laughs bitterly again. "And then I thought. I thought that, what we had..." He pauses again, searching for words. He's usually pretty slick, in control, but then, he usually doesn't care quite so much. And it's not like he's the orator Al is. It's funny-- he's had this conversation in his head a million times, and now he can't remember one little bit of what he'd wanted to say. "Even if it were fake... even if you did only want me dead... it was the happiest... the most real thing I'd had in... Forever. And if there was a chance you were... you weren't faking. That you really did trust me... I wasn't going to..." He glances at Rathien again, eyes now brimming with tears. "It's happened to me. I... I couldn't do that to..."
He clears his throat again, staring into his coffee, and then lets out a sound that falls somewhere between a laugh, a sob, and a choking cough. "I turned the damn ship around. I made it less than a thousand kilometers before ****ing Thienal showed up. Right then that little weasel had to show up." He pounds the counter angrily. "I barely got away in one piece. I had to pull into one of those random hollow asteroids to hide. Took ages. By the time I made it back to that moon, you were long gone."
He sighs again, shuddering at the memory. "For... for the first couple of years, I was always on the lookout for signs of you. I heard... stories. I heard about a few kills that were probably you. I caught whiffs on the wind and through my channels, but I... I was always too late to catch you. And after a while I figured you didn't want to be found." He looks around the bar, at all the faces, the familiar ones and the new. "I guess that's what happens when you live life on the fringes. Nobody wants to be found."
Al raises and eyebrow at William's comment. "You've got some experience with the whole 'dying' bit, then? I was under the impression that was a one-time deal for most of you squishies." He waves a hand at the blood on William's chest. "Anything to do with that?"
He laughs. "No, no, Salem prefers to make entrances wherein he's mostly unseen, he has a whole battalion chasing him through the woods, and he drops me in a lake." He grins, "Trust me, my way is much more fun."
-
"Squishies?" William echoes blankly, staring. "Ah...yes, it's typically an experience one only has once." He gives his head a little shake, as if physically dismissing Al's words. "I am not typical." He glances down at himself. "No, though I suppose I should clean myself off." He glances around, eyeing the nearby late doubtfully. "Does anyone know where one might draw a bath around here?"
-
"Kind of? KIND OF?" Rathien looks over at Salem, incredulous. "You betrayed my trust, shot me, and left me convulsing on an alien moon." He scowls as Salem continues his tale.
"It wasn't just that, Tobias. We made a good team...we executed contracts with a precision and grace I would've been ecstatic to touch upon by myself. And what didn't cap off a successful contract kill better than a wild night of violence in bed?" Rathien smiles genuinely in spite of himself, remembering how it had been. He suddenly pushes the smirk off of his face and shakes his head a bit. He was mad at Tobias. Wasn't he? Despite everything, he detects a bit of joy within himself, arguably at seeing his mate again.
He scowls a bit again. "Normally, I would say you'd be right. I've seduced in order to kill before. Nothing is forbidden...everyth ing is permitted. And I have no problem using all of the tools at my disposal to carry out my contracts. Except this time, you were wrong. So very wrong. I shared details about my life with you. True details. Feelings...things I'd never shared with anyone. I wanted you to understand me." He pauses for a second. "Normally I don't give a **** about what people think of me...but I wanted you to know me. I wanted you to know why I am the way I am. The only reason I can think of is that I actually cared what you thought of me. Because I...I..." He falls silent, unable to continue the rest of what he had been going to say, the words choking a bit in his throat. "So you stabbed me in the back instead...I want you to know that if your purpose was to cause me more pain than I've ever felt in my entire life, even beyond my parents disowning me, you were completely successful."
He scowls at Salem's story about Thienal. Suddenly he wonders if Tobias isn't playing him somehow. If he isn't spinning this whole yarn just to keep Rathien placated until he could accomplish his purpose here and then run again. "That's awfully inconvenient. Well, according to what you're saying it's inconvenient...Thie nal showing up. Conversely it's VERY convenient for your story, isn't it? 'I felt so bad about it but gosh darn it if this third party didn't show up right then to keep me from rectifying things.'" Rathien stares at Salem with a dark intensity, as if his almost iridescent eyes could see the truth inside. Despite his own commentary, and his own mind telling him it could all be a lie...a trick, Rathien feels his heart tug a bit at the sounds of sadness coming from Salem. They sounded genuine. And Rathien had heard both genuine and mock sentiments from him before. His face falls flat for a moment as he wars with the emotions inside himself. Was he really feeling bad for this person who'd utterly betrayed him. The only person he's ever really trusted? How could he possibly still care for this wreck of a human?
"Right...you were looking for me. When I spent every waking free moment trying to find you? I killed to survive. I took easy contracts to make quick money so I could spend the majority of my time searching for you. At first, the desire to kill you and the desire to be with you were about even...I needed one of those things to happen. But then I realized...I realized I needed to know why." He runs his hand over the hilt of his fighting knife still jabbed in the bar counter top. "Either way, Tobias...you'll never be free of me in this Universe, if that's truly what you want. I won't allow it. So like I said, if that's a problem for you, you'd best kill me now. Otherwise you'll have to deal with me, either in bed, or in the arena." He glances over at Salem, quirking an eyebrow up at the human.
-
Keshin lets out a droll sigh, rolling his eyes at Salem. "Sounds like yet another road story. The long and venemous road across the star ocean, filled with stories, betrayals, and venemous emotions. I would like to hear it all, though, after you're done. It's a tangled web you weave, Salem." But Keshin can't help but be the slightest bit disturbed how unsettled Salem looks. He looks between Salem and Rathien with interest, trying to parse their relationship. The same man who took on most of the Bar, including several veteran warriors, without a care in the world or a pang of fear in his heart, choked up over a psychotic bounty hunter? Something had happened, that much was clear.
<<I don't think you're going to be able to crack it, Kess.>>
<<And why not?>>
<<Because that's how it goes, alright? Remember what happens when we try and explain our relationship to other people?>>
Keshin nods, smiling. <<Heh. Point for you on that one.>>
Keshin wanders over to the Bar and sits down next to Myitt and Guppy, taking care to turn his head every so often to listen to Salem and Rathien's conversation. Whatever was going on...It sounded like it was too much to get involved with without getting paid for it.
<<If a fight breaks out, we're stepping in again. Period. Okay Kess?>>
<<You're not in a position to be making demands on both of us, Joanne. We'll go only if repaying our debt to Salem does not lead to our death. Period! >> The last word was said very nearly in a mocking tone. Joanne seemed a little wounded internally. Keshin figured she'd get over it.
He looks Guppy over and says, "So. Who are you supposed to be?"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jeffrey croaks out a snicker in response to Al's rapidfire questions. The nerve, when the man knew nothing about him! "Okay okay Buck Rogers, I'll get to it!" says Jeffrey, the mirth still in his voice. "It's like this. I used to be a Supervillain in my universe--- A real big shot!" A proud grin forms momentarily on his face. "At my peak I was on the villain side of Guardian Council and controlled at least a ninth of the whole Under Dome. Good times! Only I had..." Jeffrey pauses, as if unsettled by what he's about to say. "...I had a daughter, okay? My beloved immortal. Rosie." He swallows.
"Look, long story short Al...One of my jobs went south. Really south. And Rosie fell in love with the **** I was targeting---named Ellis Straylight. And she...She set me up. Betrayed me. Somebody shot me clear in the head. I don't know who." Jeffrey tries to keep his voice from cracking as he says that. "And..." Jeffrey gestures all around him with a somewhat derisive look. "...and now I'm here."
Jeffrey then turns to William and says, "Look, pal, whatever you think--- Living for me, and dying, was way harder than this ****ed up afterlife. At least here only a blue deer really wants me dead and my past can't come back to haunt me. If you died too, was your life before you kicked it really all that great?"
-
Myitt eyes Fayleth and Terenia. "Don't stay out there too long," she advises. "It's dangerous. Fayleth? Fayleth--Jesus Christ." She turns around in her seat, watching Terenia's back.
She sighs and swivels back around again, just catching Salem's eye. She didn't want to get involved - no, remember what they were.
<<Bounty hunters,>> Tara supplies needlessly.
<<Yeah,>> Myitt broods, pouring a drink. The shaking from her oatmeal hit is still there. Will still be there for at least another two cycles. <<My ****ing favorite.>>
<<...You gonna cut their throats, too?>>
She winces outwardly.
"You're not helping," she mutters through gritted teeth, swallowing back a shot of liquor.
Again Myitt tenses as Joanne and Keshin sit by her and Guppy.
Internally she groans. <<Why the **** won't she just leave me alone?>>
<<Dude. It's a free...well, she's not...she isn't out for our blood,>> Tara finally settles on.
Myitt finds herself staring again. Hard. Glaring knives at Keshin.
"He's my friend," she leans in and tells Keshin. "You know, like, the people you hang out with and don't try to kill. Ever."
She pours another drink, into a fresh glass, fingers palsied from internal struggle more than anything else.
"Here. In retribution for trying to dig a knife into Joanne's jugular." She slides the Yeerkish liquor carefully down to Joanne. "Can't a girl make mistakes?"
Outside the bar, a lone Bug fighter cruises slowly above the parking gravel.
It settles its leg-like landing gear, delicate and spindly, onto the rocky surface, surrounded by the hulking masses of dead and dormant ships.
It's a nondescript Bug fighter, unmarked. Beyond washing the front windows of the bar in a glint of crimson light, it makes no further indication of its presence.
-
"How about a Mai Tai?" Guppy says to both Myitt and the bartender. "Thanks, Myitt. Jeez, I'm startin' to feel like I'm relying on you a bit too much here. I appreciate the drink." Almost immediately, he feels his drink being placed next to his hand idling on the bar. Instead of questioning this, he promptly takes a sip of the ****tail. "Gotta say, as messed up as this place is, the drinks are on point."
Guppy can't help but laugh at Keshin's question. "Who am I supposed to be?" he echoes - not in a mocking tone, but almost as if he doesn't understand the question. "What, is it that hard to believe I just came for a few drinks, maybe see a fight break out?" He laughs again. "I'm a trader, here to sell some stuff. Question is, what're you doing in this little hole in the wall?"
Nepek stands up from his corner of the Bar, which had become rather isolated since Salem's entrance. He carefully takes his hand off the countertop to test his balance. He definitely didn't want to fall over again on his way to the door like last time. Thankfully, he seems to have sobered up enough to walk again.
"I suppose it's time I leave," the Hork-Bajir mutters to nobody in particular. In truth, none of the other patrons seemed to hold his interest. The blind human seems to be too eager to get into trouble, especially considering how he stays so close to Myitt, who Nepek is keeping a safe distance away from. The same could be said for this Jeffrey character, who's apparently outside the bar with William. Terenia also has appeared to have vanished. Rathien seems to be a loose cannon to say the least, and Salem clearly isn't right for wanting to talk with him.
Nepek turns around and notices the red glow on the windows. Must be another craft, he muses, and begins to head for the door, not having noticed the Andalite ship that had landed behind the Bug fighter. . . .
-
Fayleth doesn't respond, making her way down the back hallway, head ducked. She's fighting against Terenia's memories of their last time in the bar -- memories filled with blood and rage and grief.
Silently, she makes her way through the back door and circles around toward the shipyard, hoping to avoid anyone and everyone.
William laughs. "My life was fine, until I found myself at the wrong end of a rope," he says to Jeffrey lightly. "I had a good ship and a loyal crew. No one would dare betray me. My occupation simply caught up with me." He reaches up to rub at his neck, as if massaging an old wound.
"Admittedly, my life now has become far more interesting," he murmurs, dropping his hand. "But I can assure you, Jeffrey, this place is not the afterlife, whatever else it may be."
-
In spite of himself, Salem laughs. Rathien suspects he's lying about Thienal. "Such suspicion from you," he says loftily, and his eyes seem to regain some semblance of his old smirk. "Methinks you're learning, young one." He clears his throat. "You're both bounty hunters. Heck, I thought you and Thienal were almost friendly. Isn't there a secret lair or something where you all hang out? You could always ask him to corroborate. As long as I'm not around. Because he wouldn't hesitate to end you if it meant ridding himself of me, and you know it." He smiles, almost for real, and stares into the distance. "We did make one hell of a team, though."
He notes Terenia leaving. Hopefully not going too far, but today is not the day he's going to claim to be able to predict Terenia's actions. And the cloaked Hork-Bajir also looks to be moving for the door. He takes a quick look around-- a mass exodus here might always mean danger-- but seeing nothing amiss, his tensions ease a minuscule amount.
His eyes follow Rathien's fingers over the hilt of the hunter's knife. So many emotions rolling around inside of him now... it's as if the world is swimming, and nothing ever seems to quite fall into place. Elation. Fear. Sadness. Regret. Guilt. So much guilt. He has an image... a flash of himself, long ago, lying on a cold metal floor, bulky gravity pistol pressed to his own head, finger tightening on the trigger...
"I didn't want to be found either," he says, his voice shaking a little. "I can't just broadcast my location. I have too many people watching for me, and even if it were encoded, I only need one of them to..." he shakes his head. "I haven't lived this long by being that careless."
He looks up at Rathien, blinks back tears, and clears his throat. "Even when we were enemies, I never wanted to hurt you, Ildari. And I never wanted you dead. Back when I tagged you with the nanites... I used a nonlethal for a reason. I just wanted to find a way to keep you from trying to knife me every time we met." He laughs bitterly and waves a hand to indicate the door. "It's a little bit like old times, isn't it?" He sighs. "Rathien, you mean the..." he chokes, his words catching in his throat. After a sip of coffee, he tries again. "You mean a lot to me." He snorts. "If someone'd told me five years ago that I'd be saying that earnestly, I'd have recommended they get their head scanned. But here we are. You know me better than... probably anyone. And I..." he reaches a hand towards Rathien's face, then his shoulder, before awkwardly dropping it back to the countertop.
He stares at his hand for a few seconds before he speaks again. His voice is low. Almost a whisper. "I didn't expect you to be here, Rathien. But I'm so glad you are. The thought of never seeing you again..."
Al listens, wide-eyed, to Jeffrey's story, then to William's. "Wow." He rests a hand on each of their shoulders. "Sounds like you've both seen your share of stuff." The emphasis he places on the word stuff makes it sound almost like a swear word in itself.
He looks into Jeffrey's eyes, his expression somber, "Sorry to hear about Rosie. That sucks, man. You dealing with all that fallout okay?" He smiles, "Because at some point you are going to need to go into detail about this whole Council Under a Dome thing."
He then turns towards William, his expression softer. "I don't think people usually bathe here. You might try the lake. It wouldn't be the first time it's been used to wash off blood, and knowing this bar, it won't be the last. Or, heck with it, I don't think my friend would mind if I performed a minor trade on his behalf. He's probably got some clothes that'd fit you, if you'd like. I don't think anything of his could match your amazing fashion sense, but you can't win 'em all."
He looks towards the bar itself. Salem's vitals seem to have calmed down, and Al has no immediate desire to go rushing inside. The company out here is plenty interesting-- and about to get more so, if the plethora of landing ships is any indication. "Never a dull moment," he mutters.
His face cracks into a wide grin. "I just want to point out that I'm standing here talking to a guy who self-identifies as a Supervillain, and a..." he ****s a head looking at William, "blood-soaked zombie pirate of some kind?" He laughs. "I love this nuthouse sometimes."
-
"Right, like I'd beg help from Thienal. Then he'd want to do the deed, wouldn't he? That's unacceptable." Rathien shakes his head a bit, taking a long pull from his glass of ice-water. "We met on Thedes Beta 3. A place you're very familiar with, I believe. Warren of criminals and people who don't want to be found?" He shrugs before continuing. "He was tracking you...I was tracking your contact, Melvina. We got to talking...I casually warned him that if he thought he would kill you both and take credit for Melvina, he'd have a rough time. He just laughed and said he didn't care about anyone else but you. I was welcome to the contract on the other. I raised my eyebrows at that. Very un-bounty-hunterly behavior."
He swirls the ice-cube around in the dingy tumbler. "So I had to ask, how could one target be that all-consuming? He was all but happy to share his tale with me. At first I thought he was insane, but honestly nothing he'd said was impossible. And he knew things...odd things. Then after I ended Melvina's Dream and you escaped with him in tow, I could see the truth in his actions. I started listening for news of the both of you, and heard plenty enough to know that his singular goal in life was your death. I could see why...you left nothing but a trail of wreckage and despair in your wake. Lots of people put out contracts on you and it became apparent that you were not easy prey. That's why I originally started hunting you. I knew it would be good sport."
He balls up his fist, growling in the back of his throat. Dammit all! He can't hold on to the anger. He wants to so badly, almost needs to. It's nearly everything that's been sustaining him, but here Salem was, sitting in front of him, and he could feel the anger being leeched out of him. Which in turn makes him angry at Salem for robbing him of the original anger. "****ing ****..." He almost whispers the words, they'd only be audible to Salem unless someone else in the bar had super-sensitive hearing. "What the **** did you do to me?" Rathien is surprised as a hot tear rolls down his cheek.
He doesn't look Salem in the eye, but keeps both eyes locked on the bar counter. "What the **** did you do to me?" He repeats again, speaking almost as much to himself as to Salem. "You broke me...changed me at my very core. I've tried...so...hard to get back to the way I was before you. Tried and failed." He starts to shake a bit as he speaks lowly. "I went back to it...taking contracts, having flings, drinking myself stupid. But it was never as good. You did something...let me taste something. Something addictive." He blinks, trying not to cry, feeling the heat rising in his face. "It was then I realized...I've never had anyone truly care about me. No one, not even my parents...not after they found out I was a feral. You gave me the true solution to the problem I was trying to drown in liquor, sex, and death. When you took that away, everything felt hollow. Pointless."
He doesn't mention that he'd almost ended his own Dream during that time. Something inside of him told him that that would give Salem satisfaction, and that he could simply not do. But now his emotions are twisted again, turned round and sideways and backward. He snarls, still staring at the bar counter. "God dammit Tobias, I'm addicted to you. And it's worse and more wonderful than the strongest narcotic. You...you..." He shudders before grabbing at Salem's hand with his clawed one and pulling it up to his own face, pressing the hand against his burning cheek. He hisses and closes his eyes, producing a sound in the back of his throat much like that of a canine whining quietly. He almost melts at the contact, and seethes at the same time, a volcano of molten rock. That touch burned so bad, but soothed the relentless ache in his soul, or so it seems to him. Pain and pleasure intertwined and he knows he's lost again. That Salem has melted the hatred from his heart. For the first time since the betrayal, he lets himself truly feel and it's almost overwhelming.
"Damn you to hell, Tobias." He opens his eyes again, gold irises glinting in the dingy light of the bar as he moves them to stare at Salem. "You're a ****ing ****, but you know why it's unacceptable for Thienal to kill you?" He moves his face closer, releasing Salem's hand. "Because if anyone's going to kill you, it's going to be me. And to hell with anyone else who tries." With that he moves to kiss Salem again.
-
"Zombie?" William echoes blankly, staring at Al.
He frowns, glancing back to the lake. "I've certainly bathed in worse," he admits. "Though if you do have a shirt, I would be much obliged. Unfortunately I have yet to determine what passes for currency in this place."
-
Joanne watches at the liquor slides down the counter. <<Come on. Please?>>
There was an internal sigh that sounded like it belonged to a parent who's given in to buying whatever his kid is demanding at the moment. <<...sure.>> He relinquishes control with very little fanfare.
Joanne then deftly grabs the cup handle with only two fingers, sipping it in almost the same motion. She lightly thunks the cup down in front of her and grins at Myitt. "Cheers, then," she says. "To a future in which, maybe, we aren' tryin' to kill each other." Keshin, with what appears to be an eyeroll, retakes control. He sits and sips intermittently at the borrowed liquor before Guppy, the blind guy, speaks up. Keshin scoffs a bit as Guppy mocks them.
"No offense, but this place isn't exactly easy to find," he says. "Everyone here at the moment has either been here before or seems like they'd be an outcast anywhere. That's the sort of clientele this establishment normally attracts. You, on the other hand, seem to be an amiable stranger with no demons worth being rid of. Of course I would want to ask how you came about being here. With that said..."
Keshin shrugs. "It's no business of mine. But by chance...what are you selling?" Keshin always had a nose for interesting opportunities, at least. A trader that Myitt considered a friend smelled strongly of one.
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Jeffrey squirms away from Al's touch, giving him a vaguely grossed out or miffed "Don't touch me" look. But something else catches his attention, anyway. Jeffrey glances up as soon as he hears the mechanical whine and rushing air of a ship coming down for a landing in the Bar's parking lot. Jeffrey finds himself wishing he had come here by ship himself, but alas!--- Apparently sprawled on his face in the middle of the lot was a good enough transportation method for a dead man. I mean I didn't have one on me, exactly, but common courtesy on the part of my mysterious benefactor still would be nice. He points towards the direction of the parking lot and says, "Sounds like stuff is going to get still more fun in a minute, guys. Bring out your weapons and your party hats, because everybody who's shown up so far as brought nothing but blood and a good time."
"As for me and my Dome, and how it's going..." Jeffrey lets out a sigh, putting both his hands in his pockets. "....I really don't know. The whole thing makes me think a lot. Was I really so bad of a father that my own daughter set me up? I...I tried." Jeffrey's voice caught slightly in his throat as the source of his current predicament came rushing back to him. It was nicer pretending he was here on vacation. "I really did, man. I mean I knew we were both screwed up. She was...damaged from what happened with her dick-waving biological dad, and I'm just way too many cards short of a full deck at this point." He shakes his head. "But I gave it all I had, and sometimes...sometim es it just doesn't work." Jeffrey stared down at the ground. He swallowed and then re-firmed his posture. He had to get out of the past. He couldn't go around exposing his vulnerabilities to random strangers. What good would it do? He had no way off this rock. He would never see Rosie again.
"Anyway..." Jeffrey grins in his usual fashion. "Minus all that Hallmark card movie stuff, I can tell you anything about the Dome you'd like. Ask and you shall receive, new guy, but I warn you: there's a lot." It helped to smile. Smiling rid you for a couple moments of the thing's you'd rather forget. It was part of why, although he was missing it now, his costume's mask had a perpetual ear to ear grin.
-
Salem lets out a bitter laugh. "And did Thienal explain to you the part where it's his own damn fault he's trapped in my wake? Self-absorbed **** wouldn't know irony if it tore him away from his home and everything he cared about on a semi-regular basis."
As Rathien speaks, Salem stares at him, blinking, trying to keep his vision from misting over. There's a new emotion now, mingling with the rest. Pity, maybe? Or something not far off. What kind of a creature would let him mean that much to it? The rational corner of his brain notes that the feeling doesn't have any real, logical basis. Even so, the emotion leads to a fresh wave of guilt; a wave of guilt that crescendos when Rathien's pulls his hand to his face, and Salem looks away, words and thoughts catching in his throat and making it surprisingly hard to breathe.
He tenses, for a brief moment, when Rathien moves to kiss him, but he returns the kiss, and after a moment, he relents to the combination of familiarity and passion, melting against Rathien, pulling him close. The sense of danger, the tension, is still there, and as always with Rathien, it only serves to heighten the excitement Salem feels at his touch.
After only a brief moment, Salem places a hand against Rathien's chest and pushes him a few inches back. His lips tingle and his heart pounds-- that kiss, that touch, had felt very nearly electric, and he would very much like to let it continue. He chuckles in spite of himself and gives Rathien's body an appraising once-over before he sighs and leans back a bit with a shake of his head.
"Later, pup," he says, his voice coming out husky and rough. He clears his throat. "We can finish this... talk... later." His face grows deadly serious. "For now, I'm here on business. I need..." he looks around the bar, then back into Rathien's eyes. "I need all the help I can get, and probably more besides. It's time to make my move. They took my..." His voice catches again, and he barks out a bitter laugh before continuing. "They took my family."
Al smiles at William. "One shirt, coming up." There's no outward sign that Al communicates with the ship, but the ramp again cracks open and begins to lower slowly towards the ground nearby. "As far as I can tell, the house," he jerks a thumb towards the bar, "will take anything you consider to be currency. I've seen money from a dozen different worlds and times here. It all seems good. I think it's more about the idea of buying something. Or something. Crazy superdimensional entities do the darndest things."
"As for my buddy," he again jerks a thumb towards the bar, "I believe the appropriate price would be blood." He growls the last word, trying to make it sound extremely sinister, then laughs. "Not... really literally, though. Just permission to image your DNA. It's his schtick. Everybody gets something small in exchange for a genetic sample. I think the idea is to prime the pump, if you will, and make you more willing to make bigger trades. Or something. Crazy universal wanderers do the darndest things."
He turns and jogs up the ship's ramp as it settles to earth, returning a few seconds later with a garment, which he holds out to William. It looks as though it'll be too small, but it's made from spandex or some similarly elastic material. Once donned by William, it'll be a skintight black shirt with rather prominent spiked shoulder pads. "I got this for him as a gift a while back. Ingrate hasn't worn it once. No idea why." He holds up what looks to be a glass rod, maybe six inches in length, inlaid with with a copper wire. "May I?"
Al sighs, looking towards the landing ships. "I'm hoping they're bringing more 'good time' and less 'blood,' honestly," he says to Jeffrey. He squints at the two new craft, trying to get a look at who's arrived, but neither craft seems to have let anyone off just yet. He shakes his head, still staring at the new craft. "Funny thing about kids-- there's no way to make them go the way you want them to. No formula, no definitive guidebook, and no way to know everything about who they are or what's in their world." He smiles. "In the end, all one can do is their best."
"I guess," says Al, ****ing his head and rather abruptly changing the subject, "my first question about this dome would be... what kind of society lets you just go around calling yourself a supervillain? Because that is so badass. And as a follow up, uh... is it a title that's warranted? Anything to do with the whole psychic thing you did a bit ago?"
-
William is rarely speechless, but for once he has absolutely nothing to say in response to Al. He watches in utter bewilderment as the oddly dressed man dashes up the ramp.
"D...N...A? Schtick?" he echoes, looking to Jeffrey for some sort of explanation. "Is he ill? He speaks like someone who has lost their senses entirely."
He is still trying to work out Al's words when he returns with an even odder garment, brandishing a glass rod. "May you what?" William demands, taking a step back. "What do you intend to do with that thing?"
-
Rathien growls in the back of his throat, trying to master his physical responses to Salem calling him 'pup' again. He'd never tell the "trader" how much he enjoys it when he calls him that. He bares his fangs in a snarl, still taking in Salem's unique scent. He'd poisoned him. Beyond the nanites...into the realm of emotion he'd poisoned him. No one he'd kissed since their months together had been able to do what Salem had just done. Soothed him, inflamed him...drove him crazy and made him sane at the same time. He wants to claw the man's clothes off right here and right now...or rather he wants Salem to claw his clothes off...on second thought it would work either way, but he restrains himself. "You'd better damn well finish the 'conversation' later, ****."
He breaks eye-contact and gulps his water to calm himself down. "Finally moving against your SS friends then?"
-
"Oh!" says Al, holding up the rod. "Nothing, really. It can image your genetic structure from a few inches away, so I just sort of... wave it at you." He holds it close to his face, squinting. "I think." He shrugs. "It just seems rude to do something like that without the proper permission."
Salem forces a long, steady breath, trying to slow his pounding heart. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, it's time. Past time. I'm still not... really prepared. Intel's hard to come by. But yeah..." He swallows. "I think it's time to give those grass-munching ****s a bit of a wake-up call."
He shakes himself visibly, draws another deep breath, and straightens. He grins at Rathien. "So whadya think? Members of the Electorate? Job of a lifetime? A daring rescue? You and I, at it again? The prestige? The fame? The glory? Well... actually, probably not a whole lot of any of that, but it pays well." He ****s his head and smirks. "You in?"
-
Jeffrey snickers a little bit, shaking his head and then turning to William. "You really are from the way far past, aren't you? Way past the point of even memory for my folks. Like, I know you're...some kinda pirate...but like..." Jeffrey grins. "I only know about old timey pirates from old timey movies before the Sun blew out! All four Pirates of the Carribean movies I saw, and I have no idea what it was like back then. It just looks like fun, eh? Booze...women...dea th..." Jeffrey numbers off all three concepts on his hand.
"Anyway...DNA's sorta like...a map to the inside of your body, except it tells your body's...components...ho w to make themselves. You know how kids grow up, or you recover when you get stabbed? DNA tells your body how to do all that," says Jeffrey. "He wants a map to you, that he can get outta your blood. Crazy, huh? Anyway..."
Jeffrey turns back to Al. "A society of Supers of course!" Jeffrey makes momentarily childish "woosh" sounds with his hands, as if imitating someone flying through the air. "A society that's just a couple huge towns under Domes, and some artificial rural backwater. Supers run it---" He shakes his head. "---not like the X-Men, unless you mean House of M. And the superheroes are the guys that protect the world..." Jeffrey holds up his arm as if making a shield. "...and we supervillains are the ones who want to change it." Jeffrey drops his hand. "That's all you need to be either one. That and moolah. Scratch. Cold hard gold moldies. Money."
"Although I will say..." Jeffrey gets a smarmy grin on his face. "My status is warranted. I am very good at putting on a show."
-
Rathien grimaces, staring hard at his glass of water, his momentary fire quenched somewhat. This was stupid...really stupid. Salem would probably just strand him again the first chance he got after using him up. And yet, he finds himself relenting. The contract would be very difficult. They'd have to be very creative. And the danger would be nigh off the charts. Just the kind of job he normally likes...and Salem, the bastard, knows it all.
"I want to tell you no. I want to refuse you so badly, dammit." He snarls, still staring at the tumbler of water. "Maybe. But if I do it and you dump me again, I'll make your Dream into a nightmare so bad, you'll beg me to end it." He suddenly looks up at Salem to push the point across, his piercing eyes smoldering with an internal flame once more. He wants to impress into Salem the absolute truth, conviction, and purpose in his words.
-
"Oh," William says, looking as though he marginally followed Jeffrey's explanation. He peers at Al. "What would you do with a map of my body? What purpose does it serve?"
He doesn't look entirely put off by the idea. In fact, the expression on his face is calculating, in spite of his confusion. As if he's trying to figure out some larger puzzle that is just beyond his reach.
-
"Who knows?" Guppy says in response to Keshin's question. "Could be a part for a craft or something, but I have no clue. Not being able to see the thing doesn't help any." He collects his thoughts with a sip of his drink. "This guy sends me some obscure part number to track down for him. That's kinda my specialty, finding obscure bits and pieces, but this thing was a beast to track down."
"So that's how I ended up here," he concludes. "I think I picked up on the whole 'personal demons and outcasts' thing, by the way. Everyone trying to kill each other and all that. No offense." A small grin streches across Guppy's face. "That's really not my thing, though. I just don't really see the point in wanting someone dead, myself. But that's just me."
A tall human steps out of the Andalite craft, wiping sweat off of his forehead. "Can't wait til that damn A/C is fixed," he mumbles to himself. The human is of about average hight, with a fairly averave build, if a little on the lean side. His blond hair shaven into a buzzcut - although that was hidden under a beanie pulled down to his eyes. He quickly makes his way across the shipyard, ignoring the other ship that just docked and the people conversing outside another craft. If he's here, he's probably already inside. . . .
If one were watching the human, they would see that his clothing doesn't seem to illuminate much under the glow of the Bar. He appears to have quite an affinity for the color black, as his shirt, jeans, hat, and even boots all blended in with the vastness of outer space.
As he throws open the door, the human's appearance makes Nepek stop dead in his tracks a few feet from the exit. The human doesn't seem to notice, though, as he starts scanning the place with his eyes. "So," he says, "which one of you would be . . ." He trails off as his gaze rests on the cloaked Hork-Bajir standing a few feet away. "What the actual ****- NEPEK!?"
-
"Ohhhh," laughs Al, with just a hint of mad glee. "A society of supers. A world in which the staggeringly boring politics of most societies are replaced with powerful personalities putting on one massive show for the populace? It sounds..." He tilts his head. "Well, if it doesn't end up being unbelievably prohibitive and dangerous, it sounds like the right way to run things, if you ask me. Lotta ways that could go down, though..."
He grins at Jeffrey, "Supervillain as in actual superpowers, then." He leans a bit closer to William and stage whispers, "How cool is that?" He laughs. "And good at putting on a show. I'll have to pick up a few pointers if we get the chance! I think of myself an... enthusiastic amateur at best."
Al gives William a brief, puzzled expression, then he blinks. With a laugh, he says, "You actually are from a different time period than the majority of the clientele here!" His eyes shine as he smiles warmly. "From Earth, still? You've got to tell me what it's like! Are you really a pirate?"
"As for the genetic... map thing... it's got quite a few potential uses. A lot of societies have used the mapping to advance medicine significantly, I guess would be the main thing. A lot can be learned from the general shape of the map and how they're similar in each person. If one analyzes your map, specifically, one could potentially determine... a lot of things about you. Your propensity for a broad variety of syndromes and diseases. Your tendencies towards strengths and weaknesses, physically and psychologically. What traits you possess. What medicines and procedures might be more effective when used to treat you. That sort of thing. It can tell a great deal about your parentage and your ancestry. With maps of more people, it could be compared to tell exactly how you are related to any one of them. With the right collection of equipment, it can be used to repair or replace damaged or worn out parts of your body, or even, should one desire, to grow a whole new you." He laughs at the absurdity of it. At some point during his rambling, he's turned to watch the new man walking towards the bar. "It's pretty neat stuff, actually. There's a world of information tucked away in every single cell in the body of every living thing. One only needs to know how to read it."
He turns back towards William and shrugs. "On the other hand, all I've ever seen Salem," he jerks a thumb towards the bar, "do with it is to archive the information to be kept and forgotten."
Salem puts a hand to his chest in mocking pain. Rathien's words certainly have sent pain shooting through his heart, but he's recovered his senses enough by this point that he's not going to let it show. At the same time, though, there's a thrill that runs through him. He knows Rathien well enough to know that this particular 'maybe' means yes, even if Rathien himself doesn't know it yet. There's no way the Ildari would let an opportunity like this one pass him by.
He smirks. "Rathien, I would never. Not while I'm breathing." His face grows serious, thoughtful. "It's probably a good idea to work out a fallback in case we are separated." He looks around. "How about here? Plan to meet here if that happens? I'm putting together a team for this one. It'd be good to have that contingency plan in place."
Salem flinches when the newcomer shouts. He finds his hand resting on his Shredder, though he doesn't draw or turn. Instead, he feels the newcomer, the shining bright... warm... feeling behind him that corresponds to the man's soul, or his aura, or whatever hokey mumbo-jumbo accurately describes the thing that causes living beings to light up this sense. As he'd expected, the sense is stronger and sharper here, at this bar. Whether that's because of the bartender's presence, or because this is where Mar showed him how to use the sense, he can't say, but it doesn't much matter. What matters is what is. And what is is his ability to sense every being here without even having to open his eyes.
He looks over at Joanne. Keshin's the next one on his list to talk to.
-
"I'm from the duhovni," William says, giving his chin a haughty little lift. "But this form is from Earth, yes, and my prior occupation was...well, I prefer the phrase 'opportunistic sailor'. And bloody good at it." He gives a small, unabashed grin before turning his attention back to the device Al holds.
"Your stick can capture all of that?" he asks. He sounds impressed, though it's clear he still doesn't completely understand. "To...grow...an entirely new body? This body? Would it have the same soul?"
-
"Hmm..." says Al, and his brow wrinkles in thought. "I... can't actually claim to be much of an expert on the whole 'souls' thing. I've been assured repeatedly that I probably don't have one." He laughs. "But if I had to make a completely unqualified and fairly uneducated guess, I'd say no, it probably wouldn't have the... same soul, since its life experiences would shape it into its own distinct person. Maybe a similar soul?" He looks over at Jeffrey and shrugs. "I'm not really clear on how that works."
He ****s his head, his expression curious and intensely interested. "What's a duhovni?"
-
William looks markedly disappointed in this, but he shrugs it off, filing the information away to investigate further at a later time. "The duhovni is the world between," he explains. He isn't entirely sure why he shares this information so freely. It isn't something he is supposed to talk about, and Gaul would have his head for it. Then again, Gaul wasn't here and he was never particularly keen on following orders. Besides, something about the bar just made sharing seem more...tempting.
"The humans have many names for it," he continues, scoffing a little. "Sheol, Valhalla, Hades, Iokas." He shrugs. "Choose your mythology; humans are fond of creating them to explain our existence. The actual duhovni is quite different from their stories." He grins, indulgent. "But what can you expect from a mortal, hm?"
-
Rathien finishes off his water in one big gulp and pokes the index claw of his right hand into Salem's chest. "Your word is worth snake-oil, human. In this instance, however, mine is strong as neutrite." He jabs his finger a bit harder into Salem's chest, just to make sure he feels it, before withdrawing his hand. He ****s an eyebrow, considering Salem's demeanor. That particular demeanor he reserved for times when he was trying to conceal his true feelings. Could it be that this slippery snake actually felt bad about what he'd done? Or sad at Rathien's own attitude? Could Salem actually feel some remorse? Could Rathien himself have actually had some sort of impact on the implacable 'trader?' Interesting...he'd been around Salem long enough to be able to tell a few things, but this was new.
"Do you really think this place is a wise contingency? What if that one doesn't let one or both of us back in?" He ****s a thumb at the BT.
-
Al stares at William. For a very, very brief moment, he is speechless. Then he says, in his 'fuh-LAMING gossipy hairdresser' voice, "Oh, I know! Mortals have such a funny worldview. I think having to experience everything within a single lifetime makes them all cuh-razyyy." He twiddles his finger around one ear as he says the last word. He drops the affectation and shrugs at Jeffrey, "No offense or anything, it's just that y'all do the darndest things." He then frowns. "Assuming you're mortal, Jeff." He shoots a glance back towards William and stage whispers, "Is that a rude thing to ask?"
"So," he says to William, his eyes sparkling, "duhovni means... like, the spirit realm, or thereabouts. You just get interestinger and interestinger, my friend." His eyes widen, then he grins. "That makes you a ghost pirate, doesn't it? I wasn't even close!" He smiles warmly. "You'll forgive me. It isn't every day I meet someone of your... uh..." he looks William up and down, "...spectral disposition. So what's a duhovni like? I'm betting there are some wild parties."
Salem looks at the bartender and sighs. "I didn't think about that. Sometimes I get the impression he actually likes me, in about the most unsettling way possible. I don't... think he'd keep us out, but that is something to consider." He thinks for a moment. "There aren't many secure, permanent safehouses in the midst of this war. I can't go to Thedes Beta 3. Coming here is bad enough, and they'd know me on sight there. I could just give you the coordinates for my on-again-off-again haunt for the last few years." He sighs again, more deeply this time. "I should probably see who I can actually get to follow me on this idiot suicide mission before going too far with the planning. Who knows? Someone might have a better idea."
-
Myitt is silent for a long time, after Keshin and Joanne click their glasses together. Long after she has finished her drink.
In fact, Myitt is thoroughly drunk again, halfway through the bottle.
<<At least the oatmeal's gone,>> she comments emptily, her host in a bubbly, giggling state inside their shared mind.
She braces both hands against the bar counter, splaying her fingers out flat. The little electric jolts that were the tail end of an oatmeal crash were fading, and that was good.
But she'd allowed herself to become absolutely ****faced out of her mind. That wasn't so good.
"Hey, Guppy?" she asks, blinking several times, as if she had just discovered how to shut her eyelids in the first place. "You're my friend, right?" She grins waveringly at the blind Controller.
Then she leans over and slaps Joanne on the back. "This guy's my friend. Right here. This is my pal Keshin."
Outside the bar, the nondescript Bug fighter sits, idle, lights on. No one enters or leaves.
-
"So your friend asks you to find obscure ship parts, and then picks a place like the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar to pick up the goods at?" Keshin smirks and suddenly seems to cough on his drink. He hits Joanne's chest to get the liquor down, the fire of it burning halfway down his throat before it settles. He is not at all convinced he had even ordered a drink, or that the drink was originally bitingly alcoholic, but the Bar had its ways.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but Guppy that's...that is insane. Just look around you!" He gestured around him. "I bet if we asked every person in this establishment what coordinates we used to get here, we would get eight different answers. He probably got lost on the intersection that could either go here or to Davy Jones' Locker. This is the worst place to meet someone."
Keshin is startled as Myitt suddenly slaps him on the back. He gives her a dubious look. "I accept that Joanne thinks she is your friend. That absolutely does not give you the right to slap me hard on the back like a drunk. You need a detox from this."
Keshin vaguely hears someone yelling "NEPEK!" in surprise at the front of the Bar. He hopes this doesn't lead to another life or death battle.
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"Yeah, that's about the size of it!" says Jeffrey with a proud grin. "CEOs, actors, showmen and drug lords all, the Supervillains that run the Dome. And the Heroes are our teachers, philanthropists, cops, and ****s. It's an efficient system, more or less, but when the personalities clash it can go from bourgeoisie Gone With the Wind with superpowers and panem et circenses to Die Hard 3 in three seconds flat." He made an "explosion" gesture. "And we all live together in a place about as big as New York and Tokyo combined, which still isn't enough space! Crazy, huh?"
He listens as William describes where he is from and snickers a bit. "Pfft, ahhh....come on, you can't expect us to believe that. You're literally a ghost pirate? From the afterlife? What, did the Devil sent you home because you didn't rape enough people? Or was it Hades with his mutant mutt?"
"As for mortal, er, that one's a little screwball," said Jeffrey, putting a hand on his hip and shaking his head. "See, I'm mortal alright, but my daughter's a Regen. Which means her cells regenerate. She dies the day the Sun burns out for good, probably. She's a universal blood donor, and anyone who takes enough of her blood gets her powers for a few hours. I've taken...." He sighs. "A lot. I'm actually in my fifties. But it's probably gone by now."
-
William jumps a little at Al's outspoken reaction, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to figure the stranger out. "Ah...the duhovni is...well, I don't quite remember," he admits. "When we take a human avatar we lose many of our memories of the duhovni, as well as the finer details of our past lives. I am not entirely certain why, though Rafael has a theory it may be too much for a human mind to fathom."
He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, apparently not bothered by this. "I know what I am and where I came from. I know my Grigori name and my human name, and the abilities I inherited from my Grigori form. Anything else is unimportant."
His nonchalance shifts into an irritated scowl at Jeffrey's words. "Do not be absurd. There is no such thing as Hades, and even the Lord God who William worshiped is likely a farce -- meaning Lucifer is as well. They are all stories, built by humans to explain our existence -- and, by extension, their own. There are at least a dozen deities that have been created as a result of my actions in past lives, from Enki to Dolos. But none of them are me."
-
Guppy laughs at Myitt's obviously drunken speech patterns. "Myitt, you holdin' up alright?" he asks jovially.
<<She's trashed, man,>> Chris helpfully comments. <<Speaking of which . . .>>
<<On it!>>
"Bartender, keep the rum comin'! Doesn't matter how you fix it." Gaf turns Chris's head back in the direction of Myitt and Keshin. "Really, I don't pretend to understand this whole thing myself, Keshin." He sniffs the drink that the BT produced. Straight rum, from the smell of it. Top-shelf stuff, at that. "I think if I knew more about this place, I would have stayed home. And by that, I mean Chris wouldn't have let me go out." He downs his drink, not even pausing to shake off the burning sensation in his throat. "Not that I don't like it here, but you're right, this whole thing does seem a little off."
Nepek can do nothing but stare at the equally stunned human in front of him. Slowly, he closes his beaked mouth and continues toward the door while muttering something about hallucinations.
"Hey, don't walk away!" the human says. He grabs the Hork-Bajir's shoulder with his left hand. "What the **** are you doing here, still alive!?"
"I could ask you the same question," Nepek snarls. He pushes the newcomer away, sending him tumbling into a table with a loud crash. He moves toward the human, and despite his hunched stature and apparent frailty, still towers over the newcomer, who begins to regain his footing. "Don't touch me again, Sorin. Stay away from me." Leaving his threat at that, Nepek starts for the exit again.
-
Al blinks at Jeffrey. "You took her blood? Like, literally her blood? Don't squishies need that to live? Might that have something to do with your current... er... situation?"
He lets out a low whistle. "That's a pretty sizeable dome, though. Why's it necessary? Or is it necessary?" He laughs. "I guess I wouldn't put anything past a society where superhuman rock star charmers like yourself run the world." He grins. "And you're giving Billy here crap for being a ghost pirate."
He ****s a head at William. "You talk about your... er... Grigori form and your... human... avatar... as if neither was you. Are you either? Are you both? Neither? Do they still exist?" He smiles. "I don't mean to pry or anything, it's just... fascinating." His eyes flutter partway shut, as though he's putting great effort into remembering something. "Deities? You've been considered a god? Several gods?" He giggles gleefully, then clears his throat. "I mean, uh... fascinating. But I tend to agree with you. Not much matters beyond what is at this moment. Man after my own heart. Or..." he grins... "ghost pirate god after my own... radiator pump?"
He looks towards the Bug Fighter that has yet to let anyone out. "I'm giving them thirty more seconds before I go make sure nobody's hurt," he says to no one in particular.
When an altercation breaks out between the cloaked Hork-Bajir and the new human, Salem drops into a ready stance, facing the pair, Shredder in hand, though he keeps it aimed at the floor. He's ready to move if he needs to. His cloak flickers from grey to black and back again, sparks crackling from the gash Rathien's knife had left across the front of the garment. He frowns down at the cut, and then shoots an annoyed glance over his shoulder at Rathien.
-
William regards Jeffrey with a look caught somewhere between thoughtful and perturbed. He doesn't dwell on the Super much, though, frowning and turning his attention back to Al.
"We are both," he answers simply. "Human and Grigori, become one. It is the only way my kind can walk among the humans." He hesitates, then adds, "At least, as far as my reckoning goes. I am relatively new to this existence. As for being considered a god..." His shrug is nonchalant. "Everyone enjoys a good story. I may as well give them something to talk about. And when a human is left to explain the unexplainable...wel l, the stories do get interesting." There is an edge of malice to his smile, made more pronounced by the dried blood smeared along his chest.
His gaze follows Al's to the Bug Fighter, and his smile fades. "But this...this place, and these contraptions...they are far beyond anything I have ever seen. Which is to say nothing of the creatures themselves. These Yeerks are fascinating. I wonder..." He trails off, then clears his throat, looking down at himself. "Ah -- I should clean myself off." He holds his hand out for the too-tight shirt Al had procured. "Use your map-maker wand, if you must. I see no harm."
-
"Joanne thinks she's my friend," Myitt amends, grinning at Keshin. "But that doesn't mean either of you have any right to go killing my friends. Or me. You got that? Jesus, I feel like I gotta tell you this every coupla years."
She turns an irritated scowl on Guppy, but seems appeased by his words. "Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it, I just need some water or whatever. Gotta keep hydrated. Bartender, can I get a glass of water? A clean glass. Actual water."
The entire business with Nepek and the new arrival skates cleanly over Myitt's head, which only indicates how troublingly drunk she is.
Outside the bar, the Bug fighter's hatch slides open, and the ramp extends neatly to the ground.
A man in his thirties with sandy brown hair, neatly gelled, steps out and inspects the surroundings with a look of distaste on his normally placid, pale, Caucasian face.
He brushes a black Imperial sleeve, as if the air itself were filthy, but he approaches the bar nonetheless, black Army boots crunching in the sand and gravel of the lot.
As he weaves out in front of the last ship before the bar facade, he pauses again, judging. Sizing up the ramshackle building.
With a look of resign he trudges toward the building, placing a hand gently on the butt of the Dracon holstered at his side. He sulks right past the strange, very un-Yeerkish ship that emitted Salem and houses Al.
His black jumpsuit uniform has no insignia to indicate any sort of rank, but it contrasts wildly with his pale complexion and light hair. Otherwise, he looks boyish and like his cheeks would burn red in cold weather. Like a stiff drink would make him fall over.
-
Rathien feels the situation is well-enough in hand to order another miruvin, though he vows to sip it properly this time. If imbibed slowly-enough, his high metabolism would actually process the liquor without the sleepiness or drunkenness. Of course that had always struck him as prudish, as were many "customs" his less-feral species-mates embraced. But this one time, he figures maybe it's best to stay sober...for the most part.
He doesn't bother looking at the sounds of altercation, or at Salem as he stands, ready to throw himself into the fray on the off-chance he might get something out of it in the end. He chuckles deep in his throat as he hears Salem's precious cloak arcing. He suddenly feels Salem's eyes on the back of his head. Without bothering to return the glance, he casually holds his right hand up near his head, raising the middle finger in Salem's general direction without looking. He smirks to himself as the BT sets the flute of silvery-clear liquor on the bar in front of him.
-
Al's smile matches William's in intensity, but in Al's face, William's malice is replaced by pure, almost rabid excitement. "I can imagine, he says. "The perspectives of human beings... most intelligent organic life, actually... tends to put a phenomenally unique spin on just about everything." He grins "Start that effect with something they can't explain and rinse with hundreds or thousands of years' worth of repetitions." His eyes shine. "I'm talking to a myth." His expression grows serious, and he looks William straight in the eye. With a solemn tone, he asks, "Do you do autographs?"
He places the folded shirt in William's hand, then waves the transparent rod around near the man's arm for a moment. "Alakazam." He brings the rod close to his face and squints at it, frowning. "I think that's it." He shrugs and stuffs the rod into a pocket as he turns to watch the man from the Bug Fighter sulk past. "These contraptions are a surprisingly close on the heels of your time," he says. "Assuming time where you're from advances similarly to the way it has in my world. There are a few big jumps all species need to make. The next one from where you're at is the one into space. Once there, the advancement and growth for most species seems to be pretty steady, but there's no 'almost space.' You're either a spacefaring species, or you're not." He tilts his head and looks at William curiously. "If you're as timeless as you claim, it won't be long before you're there yourself. When is it you live?"
"You do seem like you should get along well with the Yeerks." He laughs. "You almost seem to be their... what, spiritual equivalent? You're like a Spirit Yeerk. A Yeerit." He frowns. "Or is Speerk better?"
Salem sighs in response to Rathien's gesture and leans back against the bar. He's still tense, but he lets his eyes flicker over Rathien's body and face, and then to the glass of miruvin, before returning his attention to the bar at large. He smirks, but doesn't comment. "Listen," he says. He sounds weary. "What we have to do... what's coming... it's like nothing you've ever done before. It's not something the two of us can do alone." He lowers his voice to barely a whisper. "We'll be hitting a prison. We'll be hitting the Electorate hall on the homeworld. We might need to hit a Dome Ship. We need more hands and more eyes. We need more talent. More brains. If you know of anyone I don't, talk to them. In the end it could mean our lives. I've found you... I needed you the most, and I found you right when I..." He stops, chokes something back, and gives his head a quick shake. "Now I need to talk to them," he says with a nod towards Keshin and Myitt.
With that, Salem shambles over to where Myitt, Keshin, and Guppy sit at the bar. He notes the way Myitt and the blind man sway a bit, talk a bit too loud. Would it be better to talk to Myitt first? She'd probably be more... agreeable in her current state, but that had the potential to backfire later, depending what she remembered and what she resented. Less chance of a backfire now, though, than if he'd been the one buying the drinks. Probably best to play this little dance by ear.
He sighs and draws a deep breath, straightening his posture and putting on a friendly, businesslike air. "Hey, Myitt," he says warmly as he steps up to the three of them. "It's been too long." He turns his smile towards Keshin. "I'm sorry for my rudeness earlier, guys. The past has a way of coming back to shank you in a place like this." He rests a hand gently on the blind man's shoulder. "My name's Salem. I'm a trader. It's a pleasure to meet you."
-
Myitt turns to Salem, looking him up and down.
"Hey," she says, frowning. "Last time I saw you, we were gonna do something. Something with little bots. Nano-tech? And I...I don't know why we never...followed through..." She presses a hand against her forehead. "Are you the same Salem I knew?" Myitt watches him with a pained expression.
The sandy-haired man in the black uniform makes his way to the front door, steeling himself before pushing it open.
One hand still at his hip.
He gives the bar's stuffy, grit-coated interior a cursory inspection as he walks straight across to the bar counter.
Then he speaks quietly to the bartender, who wordlessly starts fixing him a drink.
The man turns his back to the counter, leaning against it on both elbows, trying for all the world to be nonchalant. There was something strange about this man's attitude. Tense, but serene. Boyish, but as intent as a hawk.
He thanks the bartender and takes his drink, which looks like a glass tumbler of rum and coke.
-
Rathien sips his drink very slowly and gingerly, setting it back on the counter-top. He frowns as Salem all but assumes he's already said yes to helping his ass. "Funny, I remember distinctly saying 'maybe,' ****." He calls out as Salem walks away. He sits for a moment longer, leaving the miruvin on the bar as he slowly stands, strolling behind Salem just as Myitt starts talking. He swats Salem's ass hard with an open palm, a muffled yet audible 'smack' sounding out at the contact. He smirks sidewise, jumping up to sit on the bar-counter facing back toward the bar, one leg hanging off toward the floor, the other propped up on a heel on the bar-stool in front of him. He ignores the BT's annoyed look.
He looks over at Myitt. "Oh he's the same one, love. Unless you're a different Myitt, that is. Be careful or you'll end up trading your ship for an empty can of snake-oil." He smirks at Salem.
-
Myitt blinks at Rathien's arrival, doing a remarkably good job of not swaying in her chair.
"I'm sorry," she says, mildly annoyed. "Do we know you?" She jabs a finger at her chest.
She gives the Ildari an appreciative glance up and down, lip curled. "I don't remember ever seeing you before today. Then again, I think I'm drunk." Myitt grins broadly, the annoyance vanishing. "Yeah. Definitely drunk."
The man in the black uniform doesn't look over at Rathien, or Myitt, or anyone else in the direct vicinity. He leans with his back against the bar counter, sipping his drink through a tiny straw.
-
Keshin scoffs. "Of course it's off. The Bartender can make any drink. The place seems to deliberately attract people who already know and despise one another. I've even seen it rebuild its own walls from scratch with no materials." He takes another hot and strong sip of his drink. "But still..." He rubs his temple and then sighs. "I suppose you didn't know any of that, did you? Why would you come after a part when you don't even know what it looks like though..."
Keshin blinks as an altercation goes on between Nepek, the old Hork-Bajir, and someone he doesn't recognize at all. He shrugs it off. The old Seer looked like the kind of person who could take care of himself. What he doesn't shrug off is Myitt. "I don't owe you anything, especially when you're this drunk," he says with an amused smile and an eyeroll.
At that moment the eye of the storm, the source of all the chaos--- Salem---- sits down next to Myitt and strikes up a conversation. The trader had a lot of nerve, although Keshin was glad he didn't need to intervene. Myitt said something about nanobots, and Keshin shakes his head in utter confusion. "I think you need to wait until Myitt has had a little nap," he says with a shake of his head.
Rathien then smacks Salem's butt. Keshin looks from the one to the other in utter confusion.
<<Kinky.>>
<<Oh shut up!>>
"Are you...are you done with the dance of death, and it's back to sex now, or does his butt just look like it deserves it? Because I understand the latter. If you're not done, I have a bone to pick with you."
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"Yes, I drew her blood--- Not enough to kill her, god!" says Jeffrey, crossing his arms and closing his eyes huffily. He then opens them again. "It's common. Drawing a Regen's blood from 'em gives you their powers for a little while, if you've got the same blood type. And really not as bad as it sounds. She's fine afterward. How else was I supposed to protect her for as long as I had to?"
"As for the Dome...Well..." He begins to pace. "Supposedly, at some point, the whole planet got irradiated. Meaning everybody who's out there in the Sun without protection mutates or dies of radiation poisoning. We had to construct the Domes to avoid that, right? Although...as you can see...We didn't, quite. The second and third generations born under the glass had powers. Superpowers. And that changed everything." Jeffrey grins.
"As for this guy..." Jeffrey points a thumb at William. "So he's...you're like a Greek God? A myth? A superpowered Zeus the almighty pirate dead guy?" Jeffrey snickers. "Do you do birthday parties?"
-
Salem opens his mouth to answer Myitt, and then jumps slightly when Rathien's hand smacks his backside. The tingle that shoots through him is equal parts surprise, desire, and annoyance. Par for the course where Rathien's involved.
He shoots Rathien a wide smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, and counters with, "I resent that remark. Besides, I only sell empty cans of top-shelf snake oil." He laughs, though even to him it sounds forced. He notes the other newcomer at the bar. Imperial uniform... but not completely. Interesting. He'll have to keep an eye on him. So many ways that could mean danger.
He turns back towards Myitt and lowers his voice. "Rathien's right, though. I know you."
He wrinkles his brow and tries to think. Nano-tech... the Malleon? Microbes with a collective mental capacity that could achieve consciousness in great enough concentrations. He'd all but forgotten, in the years since, but he'd left a small colony of them aboard Myitt's Skimmer, in the power system, surviving off of some of the excess energy produced by the ship. He'd been hoping to use them to track down the Rebels' location, but for whatever reason the connection between the Skimmer colony and the one aboard his own ship hadn't held. He'd left the Skimmer's colony with instructions to keep their numbers low enough to not be noticed, but with low enough numbers they may not remember that instruction. Bit paradoxical like that. If Myitt was hinting at their discovery, there could potentially be even more hard feelings towards him than the Rebellion had already given.
He feels his stomach sink. That's the last thing he needs. He'd come here hoping to clear the air with the Rebels and start anew.
"We'll, uh..." he begins, and licks his lips. His mouth has suddenly gone dry. "We'll have to talk about the nano-stuff when we get the chance."
He turns towards Keshin. "Honestly, I'm not always sure Rathien knows the difference between sex and the... er... 'dance of death.'" He shoots a smirk at Rathien, then leans closer to Keshin and lowers his voice, "Actually, it's you I want to talk to." He nods towards a booth on the far wall. "You have a minute?"
Al nods and swallows as Jeffrey talks about his daughter again. It's pretty obviously a sensitive subject for the man, so Al's only response is to nod sagely. "Makes sense. I know if I had you squishies' propensity for aging, I'd be all over the magical elixirs that'd keep it at bay."
His eyes again flicker mostly shut as Jeffrey talks. "That's not in my Earth's history anywhere that I'm aware of." He opens his eyes and ****s his head at Jeffrey. "I think your universe is totally different from mine. I'll be honest, the whole thing with people dying of radiation poisoning left and right sounds... kinda bleak." He grins. "But the superpowers sound freaking excellent."
-
Rathien pops up two of his fingers, shrugging before leaning back again. "Myitt-195 of the...Taon-Yerralash pool was it? Former loyal Imperial, now a lieutenant of the Yeerk Rebellion's upper echelon. Wanted for dissent, murder, and most-importantly...treason." He smirks...it isn't a nice smirk. "I honestly don't remember if I've spoken with you or not, but I know my bounties, sweet-heart. To be honest, you always just seemed like a too-easy mark for me."
He glances up at Keshin as he speaks. "Ah...Static...Shock was it? I try to know my bounty hunters too, but honestly who has the time?" He produces a throwing knife from within one of the sleeves of his armored tunic and starts flipping it idly through the air. "What kind of bounty hunter gets involved in another bounty hunter's fight? Whatever happened to the code?" He puts a hand over his heart in mock agony. "All that aside, didn't your guardians ever tell you not to throw yourself in the middle of a lovers' spat, hmm? Good way to get yourself killed...." He flips the throwing knife down at the bar counter in front of Joanne and Keshin.
He puts a palm over Salem's chest, pushing against it gently, raising an eyebrow. "You know as well as I how much fun it is to combine the two, honey. You always liked it when I played rough...because you got to play rough back. And I could handle anything you threw at me." He bites his lower lip before withdrawing his hand and smirking again.
-
"Right. The nano-bots. We'll...talk about it," Myitt tells Salem, frowning. What was it about the nano-tech?
She eyes the Ildari imperiously and gives Rathien a scowl. "Wonderful," she drawls, gesturing with her glass. "Another bounty hunter. Well, if you work for the Empire, why don't you just go ahead and collect?" She giggles a little, spreading her arms wide. "It's not like I'm trying real hard to hide. **** it, man."
The man leaning against the counter glances over at the little gaggle of counter patrons with mild interest.
He takes his drink and slides over to where Salem, Keshin, Rathien and Myitt have gathered.
"Excuse me," he says with a pleasant smile. "I couldn't help overhearing. You see, I'm looking to employ a bounty hunter for a singular job. One that can be carried out in this very place." He eyes the ceiling. "I don't suppose any of you are looking for work?"
With a pause, he adds, "Where are my manners? My name is Jorek." He offers Rathien a hand first, eyeing Keshin and Salem speculatively. He doesn't give Myitt a second glance.
-
Keshin chuckles at Salem's impish comment about Rathien, and then blinks, as if momentarily surprised, when Salem suddenly propositions them. He nods very slightly, hoping that what transpired wasn't noticed by anyone but Salem himself. It was difficult to make a deal with this many people in the room with him!
<<Kess, wait a sec. The guy nearly caused the entire bar to break out into a **** fight in a couple of seconds. Making a deal with him is dumb. Really, really dumb.>>
<<We're not necessarily closing the deal, Joanne. Determine what he wants first, agree to it later.>>
Rathien suddenly speaks up, produces a knife, and effectively threatens both of them. Keshin twitches as soon as he sees the knife hit the table. He swallows and then states tersely, "We owe your little friend Salem a debt. He saved our lives. And I don't know what sort of code you follow, but I do know that in mine life takes precedence over "family."" Keshin takes the knife out of the table and slides it back over to Rathien.
When Jorek steps into the conversation, Keshin blinks slightly and says, "A job? Inside the Bar? That sounds...practicall y impossible, no offense. The last time I tried to execute a job inside the Bar, I nearly died. Unless you're not trying to kill someone at the moment, or at least not trying to kill anyone I know. Regardless..."
Keshin stands up. "This crowd's getting too stiff." He casts a look at Jorek. "If the others refuse you, we'll hear it." He then walks over to the booth where he expects Salem to meet him and takes a seat.
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Jeffrey grins at Al. "Most of them are. I mean I can control people's minds with my powers. In exchange, for, well..." Jeffrey pouts. "...losing my head. Falling apart. Missing more marbles by the day. My powers make it hard for me to give a crap about what other people think. Basically." Jeffrey shrugs.
"And...yeah, I'm getting the impression my home ain't exactly on the same path down the road as most of the people here," says Jeffrey. "Incidentally..." Jeffrey's eyes glow yellow. "What are you and how do you know that guy who walked into the Bar, specifically? How did you get that ship you came out of? Also say raspberry three times. " Jeffrey both really wanted to know these things and had to see if that raspberry thing actually worked.
-
Rathien glances at the hand in semi-surprise. He takes it and shakes it before reaching down to retrieve his knife, causing it to disappear within his sleeves. "Well that really depends, doesn't it Jorek? Depends on who you're after. How hard it will be. How much you're willing to pay. Most of the people here have some kind of crazy **** going on..." He arches an eyebrow, leaning back with both palms on the bar top, his heel still propped on top of one of the bar stools.
"I need more details, hun...a lot more details before I can help you." He grins winningly, flashing his fangs.
-
Salem laughs in response to Rathien's words. "Of course," he mutters. "The violence is half the fun with you. Doesn't make your..." he places a hand on Rathien's shoulder and squeezes, mockingly comforting, mockingly somber, "Er... judgment sound."
He listens as this... 'Jorek' introduces himself. "Came to the right place if you want a freaking hive of bounty hunters," he mutters to himself. He then shrugs, puts on his 'charming businessman' smile, and holds out his own hand to Jorek. "Pleased to meet you. Name's Salem. I'm a trader. I've got something I need to do, but I'd love to talk to you more. Chances are, even if I can't help with your little... problem, we can at least find a... uh, mutually beneficial arrangement." Though, he reasons, the odds this Imperial is here to have him assassinated probably aren't bad. He's fairly sure Rathien and Keshin would both think twice before trying to off him, but he's going to need to keep a close eye on Jorek until he figures out what the Yeerk's game is.
He watches the interplay between Keshin and Rathien, and listens with some concern to the conversation between Myitt and Rathien, and sighs. "Rathien," he says, his voice showing a trace of annoyance and resignation, "play nice. Myitt and Kess are friends, and you know you could use a few more of those." He smirks, muttering, "I swear, all you bounty hunters make up this 'code' stuff as you go. Don't jump into lovers' spats. Jobs at the GESB are dumb. If the mark is wearing white and it's a Tuesday, buy their widow ice cream after it's done or face the consequences." He laughs again.
With that, he turns and follows Keshin to the booth. He slides into the seat across from Keshin, angling his body so he can comfortably keep an eye on those still at the bar counter. As he sits, most of his 'businesslike' demeanor seems to evaporate, and he's back to looking haggard and exhausted.
"How've you two been?" he asks, his tone conversational. "Still having attempted murders a few times a week, I see." He points to his own neck at roughly the spot where Joanne's is cut. He smiles. "It's good to see you both."
"As for business..." he leans close and says, in a hushed, conspiratorial tone, "I've got a job. A big one. Biggest I've ever seen." He looks into Joanne's eyes, searching. "It's not a solo job. Nobody could handle this one alone. I'm putting together a team. We're playing it smart. Planning everything." His eyes rove back towards the counter. "It's pretty high-stakes stuff. Fate of the Galaxy levels of high. But it pays well, and if I can put together the right team with the right plan, we can be in and out again before they even know what hit 'em." He smirks, though it seems a little halfhearted. "Interested in hearing more?"
"Ah," says Al, nodding sagely. "Your cost for superpowers is sanity and empathy." He studies his own nails and says loftily, "I don't mean to brag, but sanity and empathy is sort of my superpower." He pauses, and then looks slowly up at Jeffrey, feigning shock. "Do you suppose my power costs sanity and empathy too?" He frowns. "Would Sanity and Empathy be a good name for a line of frozen dinners? Or is it better suited to a pair of tiger siblings?"
Al looks into Jeffrey's eyes and shrugs. "Raspberry three times. As for me, I guess you'd say I'm..." He frowns, searching. "An android? Sort of? I mean, I guess the closest thing I'd be is an artificial intelligence currently inhabiting a purpose-built android body, but that's a little bit of a mouthful, so I usually just introduce myself as Al." He laughs. "Salem's a... friend, I guess. I met him at a party, a long time ago. We had a few mutual friends." He shrugs. "There was another party, later on." He pauses, wrinkling his forehead. "Sometimes, I think I party too much, but then I just tell myself that's stupid. I've only ever partied once. I just haven't stopped since." He laughs. "Anyway, at this other party, I was just plastered drunk, and Salem offered to give me a ride home. You know how it goes," he says, waving one hand vaguely into the air. "One thing led to another, and before you knew it, we were both thrown together into an alternate universe to live out our days as outsiders. We've been living with whoever would have us and hopping from universe to universe ever since."
"One of those universes was the home to the Serylians. Between me and Doctor McRobotKidnap," he jerks his thumb towards the bar, "we helped advance their science by... I dunno, a few centuries?" He takes a step over and raps on the hull of the black ship with a dull thud. "This is one of the things they came up with. I think they gave it to us as partial repayment for helping them so much. Or something. All the trading and wheeling and dealing is sort of Salem's thing, not mine."
-
Myitt watches the exchange between Jorek and Rathien, and Salem, sipping her water, eyes wide.
She feels a tiny edge of relief as Joanne and Keshin wander off with Salem, but no - there was more to be done there. So much more she needed to discuss. And she'd nearly killed Joanne...
Her thoughts muddle together and she sets down the glass of water, trying very hard to focus on whatever it was Jorek was saying.
"I'm after," says the Yeerk carefully, "a Councilor of the Yeerk Empire, and an associate of mine, whom I plan to meet in this hovel of a place. It will have to be quick and clean. The host is expendable. He will be armed, and quite cautious, though I've asked for his guards to remain at bay." He does glance at Myitt, now, eyes narrowing briefly. Recognition? No, only suspicion, and he turns Rathien away from the unknown rebel.
"I don't know who you are or what you need, my dear turelek, but I will pay you more than any other Yeerk could possibly wager," says Jorek with a small, pleasant smile.
Myitt leans across and grips Guppy's arm.
"I don't like what these guys are talking about," she tells him in a low, tremulous, and slurred voice.
-
Rathien arches his eyebrow further as Jorek speaks. "So...you're saying you somehow managed to get a member of the Imperial High Council to come out to a bar in the middle of space to meet you for some undisclosed reason. You did this to make an attempt upon the Councilor's life, yet you simply hoped you'd run into a bounty hunter when you got here? Do you think I just fell off the birthing bed?"
Rathien leans forward, staring at Jorek, unblinking. "What's your story...and more importantly, what's your angle?"
-
"Yes," says Jorek simply, smiling. "If I hadn't run into a bounty hunter here, I would have been forced to delay his execution. But no, no, this must be carried out as an anonymous act. I can't simply execute him."
He shrugs, sipping his rum and coke nonchalantly. "As for who I am and why I want this bounty, that's my business, and I'm not paying you to ask my business. Now, name your price, or I'll find another willing patron."
-
Rathien grins, baring his fangs, picking next to one with a pinky-claw before leaning back and speaking again. "Fine, Jorek...go ahead....find another willing patron." He smirks pointedly. "Maybe you'll get lucky." Rathien shrugs nonchalantly. "But if you don't, you can always carry out the kill yourself, right?" He pauses a moment for dramatic effect before continuing. "Or......you can come back to me, be a good boy, and tell me what's going on and why you want these people dead, eh?" He grins wide, shrugging again, waving his fingertips at Jorek in a mock 'goodbye' gesture.
-
Keshin smiles slightly as Salem drops his guard in front of them. It surprised him somewhat that the free-wheeling trader considered him as much a friend as they considered Salem one. But then again, the altercation the man just had with Rathien proved Salem's definition of that word was rather...loose. "We're doing...terribly, as you can see, but it could be worse," Keshin says with a shrug. "At least our assailant seems to be apologetic."
Keshin pauses as Salem introduces the reason he wanted to talk to them, and then scoffs and shakes his head incredulously. "Fate of the galaxy? A job that requires more than one scoundrel? You have got to know how this sounds. It sounds like you're trying to set me up. But..."
Keshin sighs, putting his hand up against Joanne's chin. "....Kandrona, I have no idea why you would. We're not so hatable that our enemies would pay someone to kill us this way. So, I suppose, convince me. Tell me why helping you here would pay off in the end."
-
Jorek's lip curls in distaste, for just a moment.
Then he shrugs and lifts his drink. "Very well. I thank you for entertaining the suggestion of employment. You're quite right, I could carry out the hit, myself. But let's say I haven't exactly done such things in a...a very long time."
He inspects his fingernails. "Out of practice, and all that."
Jorek doesn't appear to want to continue the conversation, focusing instead on the rest of the bar at large as he sips the tumbler.
Myitt sits nearby, watching the conversation with glowering suspicion. Watching Jorek's back.
Then, when it is apparent no one is making any moves towards ending her own life, she slowly, edgily relaxes against the bar counter.
"Still don't trust him," she murmurs, half to herself, and half to Gaf.
-
Jeffrey grins. "My god what a wild ride. Sounds like you could tell the same 'drunk at a party' story for like, twenty years running, with new additions every so often to make things interesting. And..."
Jeffrey paused, and then nodded quickly. "Yeah, I'd say that's about right. Espers--- The kind of Super I am--- Get the ability to control others like me, in various ways. There's all different types, too, even just with that one superpower. I'm what they call a Delusive Vocal Esper--- That is..." He spins a finger around his ear. "I can make people see things that aren't there with my powers, and I do it with my voice. My powers impact what people believe, not what they feel. But a Hypnotic Esper, those guys can make you think they're your god." He rubbed the back of his head. "Always been jealous of those guys."
He held out his hand to Al, ****ing his head to the side. His expression was warm and quasi-benevolent, for him. "You know what? I think I like you. Show me your charge, man. As for the ship, you got any more stuff like that? Stuff onboard? I probably have something I could trade. I'm carrying my DNA and some of my own tech on me!"
-
William shakes out of his reverie, frowning. "Birthday parties?" he murmurs. "Autographs?" He shakes his head again, reaching a hand to his forehead. "Apologies. I think that time with the...the Yeerk in my mind has had more of an impact than expected." He says the word 'Yeerk' hesitantly, as if unsure whether he is pronouncing it correctly or not, despite having played host to one.
His fingers tighten on the fabric of the black shirt, and he frowns down at it. "If you'll excuse me, it is past time to clean myself off. I...will return. I find your conversation oddly pleasant, despite only understanding half of it."
He detaches himself from the company of Al and Jeffrey, meandering down towards the lake. Once there, he sets the shirt aside, pauses, then tugs off his boots and breeches.
Naked, he wades into the water, rubbing at the dried blood on his chest.
In the shipyard, the hatch of Dalik's the Prime's Bug Fighter slides open. Cameron's brunette head pokes out as the ramp descends. Her expression is no longer feral, and her eyes are sharp and scrutinizing. Dalik has, evidently, found her way back into her head and recovered enough to emerge.
The ramp touches down, and Dalik descends slowly, checking her holster as he does so. She's added a few small contraptions to it, outside of the standard comm link and Dracon weapon. A pouch is filled with spare power cells, and something that looks oddly like an Earth pager is clipped to the side. Three green lights blink on it.
Dalik makes her way to the bar quickly, pausing just before the door to stare at Salem's ship. There is greediness in her expression at the clearly unfamiliar technology, but she restrains herself. There are other items of business to tend to.
Pushing the door to the bar open, Dalik surveys the crowd. Still no sign of her brother, and her lip curls into a scowl that freezes in place when she sees the young man beside Rathien. The color drains from her face.
"What are you doing here?" she demands of Jorek, striding towards him.
-
Al sighs and looks away from Jeffrey, and for the briefest fraction of a second, his relentlessly upbeat attitude gives way to something darker. He looks... old. Worn out. "You know, twenty years running isn't far off at this point."
As quickly as it's gone, though, his grin returns. "Dude, you have got to take me to your dome at some point. You have enough mind-control experts running around that you have terms to break down the varieties. You're like some kind of brain-warping connoisseur."
He turns towards William as the man turns towards the lake. "Likewise, Willy. You're a stimulating guy to talk to." He laughs warmly.
Al grins and grips Jeffrey's hand. "Likewise, Jeff. Enjoying your company. And... yeah, there's a lot more on board the ship. Lord Dorkington," he jerks a thumb towards the bar, "likes to think of himself as a trader. Like I said, I don't get very much into the trading side of things. I think I could offer you one of Salem's regular widgets for a DNA scan, but for the interesting stuff, you'll have to talk to him." He rolls his eyes. "I wouldn't have a clue what any of his random junk is worth."
-
Guppy jumps about a foot straight up when Salem grabs his shoulder. "Guppy," he says a little too quickly. Clearly, he wasn't expecting the stranger to introduce himself so suddenly.
He sits back and tries to take in the multitude of conversations happening around him, not fully understanding a single one of them. Maybe this corner of the Bar was a little too crowded for his liking, or maybe it was because all these people seem to have some history together, with Guppy being the outsider. Or maybe he was just ****faced.
Guppy squirms in his seat when Myitt squeezes his arm, visibly nervous. "**** . . ." he mumbles. It takes the Yeerka minute to realize that Chris was speaking, not him. "Myitt, I'm lost here. Like . . . ****, I think that rum's really hitting me now." He laughs, but it's much less lighthearted than his normal chuckle.
Without another word, Nepek walks away from the human and storms out the door of the Bar. He boards the Yeerk craft that he arrived in, but the ship simply idles in the shipyard instead of leaving.
The newcomer stands up, rubbing his arm that had smacked against the table. "Sad," he comments to himself. "What a sad creature." He stares at the door for a moment before making his way to the Bar. True, he did come here for a reason, but the other patrons seemed to be pretty invested in their conversations. There would be time for what he needs once things die down a bit. For now, he sits alone on the far side of the Bar from everybody else.
"Bartender," he calls. "Mind grabbing me a Pepsi?" The way he pronounces his words is a little too deliberate - placing stress on almost every syllable that he says. "On second thought, Cherry Coke, if you have it?"
-
Salem looks towards Myitt. "Apologetic is... good, I guess. It's something. So did Myitt just snap, or did you provoke it?" He stares into space. "At least you're still kickin'. More of my friends out here in the black wind up dead every year." He smiles tiredly at Joanne. "It's not easy for those of us who live on the fringes. No real home, except for dumps like this. No sense of security. No family and no consistency." He sighs. "I don't know about you, but once in a while I could use a break from this life for a while."
He seems to suddenly remember what he's there for. He shakes himself almost imperceptibly and sits up a little straighter, reclaiming a portion of his businesslike demeanor. "I know it sounds like a setup," he says. "It's not. It's just that the job... jobs, really, because I think we're probably looking to hit two or three targets... are multifaceted. Multi-tiered. We need to be fast, and silent, and we're going to need to time everything perfectly. I don't think I could do it on my own if I had a year for planning and preparation, but there are groups I've worked with that'd make this look like a cake-walk. My old crew..." He trails off and his eyes lock onto Joanne's, searching. "You're good. As far as I can tell, you're one of the best in the galaxy. If we pool our skills, we should be able to do this pretty easily."
He fishes into a pocket in his cloak for a moment and pulls out a dark grey cube-shaped object. It's a couple of inches across, and across the entire surface run a series of golden-white lines, parallel to the cube's edges and turning almost exclusively at right angles, like the traces on a circuit board. Salem sends a quick thought-speak command to the object, and the the lines begin to flicker and pulse. The cube projects a small, rotating holographic image into the air above it. It's a vaguely mushroom-shaped structure; that of a small Andalite space station.
"This is our first target," Salem says. "It's an Andalite-run early-warning outpost near the current front line with the Empire. It's non-critical to their operation and is usually pretty lightly guarded, but lately it's been used as a waystation for those traveling to and from the Andalite fleets operating in the sector. Depending on our timing, it might be full to the brim with Andalite warriors itching for a fight." He grins. "So we'll want to avoid that kind of timing. We'll be looking to capture some data from the computer, bug their comms, disrupt station operations, and potentially liberate a small number of Andalites. If we're really lucky, there's the opportunity to make an assassination as well." He shrugs and indicates the cube. "I've got a lot of intelligence on this one, and you're welcome to look over all of it to see what your action plan would be. I'd rather have more eyes and minds on it anyway." He laughs halfheartedly. "Depending on what we find out there, we'll know our second target, if there is one. I suspect it'll end up being a more-secure Andalite facility."
He watches as the cloaked Hork-Bajir storms out the door. Some kind of relationship there he's not hugely eager to jump into the middle of... good thing both of the individuals in question are alone now. "I'm offering good pay for each of the... sub-jobs, I guess you'd call them... and a larger amount once the whole thing is done. And that's besides the bounties already out on our primary targets that could be collected. You'd be free to walk at any time if you think it's getting too dangerous, but if we play this right, we'll be invisible."
-
His name is Forlin-Langor-Chulain. He is--or was--an Aristh. But about his biological people, he knows very little. The trauma of a ship crash can do that to a person. He considers himself a denizen of Earth. Known to all but those who he trusts as Collin Henderson. Because he has to be careful who to trust. The humans will poke and prod and lock up things they do not understand...and there are even worse horrors out there.
Only recently had he been able to reach the stars. How he has happened upon this nondescript place, however, he does not know. He comes knowing there is risk, yet the Andalite comes anyway. While he still remains within the confines of the small ship, he begins to morph, bones and flesh twisting and shaping, blond hair sprouting from his head and blue fur receding. Emerging on all fours, naked, he pushes with his strong human arms to his feet, and finds his clothing: a t-shirt with an image of a dragon on the front, sweatpants, black socks, and pull-on shoes. He slips a jacket on, and into his pocket, concealed, an Andalite shredder. Setting on stun. It is a mild relief to the Andalite to have it at hand...but he hopes he does not have to use it.
The first thing he sees sends warning bells through his mind. He recognises what the bladed creature storming towards a fighter is...Hork-Bajir! Shock troops of the Yeerk Empire. Forlin gives the Hork-Bajir a wide berth and makes his way inside, despite his urgings to leave this place as soon as possible. He glances around as he steps into the bar, taking in the site of what seems to be mostly humans. They could all be Controllers, though, for all he knows. He tells himself to act natural, making his way to an empty spot at the bar. Once he has the attention of the bartender, he speaks.
“Hi, um, I would like a coffee, if you have it. Coffee with lots of creamers.” He smiles warmly but nervously, trying his best not to sound out the words despite how well 'creamers' comes flowing off of his tongue.
-
Keshin nods quietly. "We could use a break from it ourselves. It grows tiring, going from dive to dive, living out of a Bug fighter, never knowing how long you will survive..." Keshin smiles, as if shrugging off his own ennui. "But that's life. As for Myitt..."
Keshin shakes his head. "There...I have no idea. Absolutely none. I certainly didn't provoke it. In fact, we were having a completely normal conversation before she suddenly lunged at me and sliced out my throat. The only clue I have is..." Keshin pauses, and then points slightly to his left at the door to the Bar, leaning out with his head. "...she wasn't in Tara. She was infesting a stranger I don't recognize. I think he left the Bar, earlier. He must have missed the whole hubbub with Rathien."
Keshin then sits and listens to Salem's explanation of the job. He rolls his eyes. "Salem, I am good, but you still haven't---" Keshin startles slightly when Salem puts the cube out onto the table. He inspects it with his eyes, but it's a piece of technology just as inscrutable as everything else that Salem owns. A cipher. He waits, and his expression lights up with wonder as the device projects a hologram. Keshin pauses. "An Andalite outpost...." He murmurs as Salem explains.
Keshin's expression shifts from excited to quizzical. He gives Salem a questioning stare. "Salem, what's this about? Who hired you to raid an Andalite early warning outpost? Are any of the Vissers planning some kind of attack that they want to go unnoticed, or is it the data that they want? Or, and this is seeming more likely by the minute...are you aware of something specific that's going to be happening at this place? You mentioned the possibility of an assassination."
Keshin seems to muse over the diagram, spinning it with a finger. It doesn't take him as much time as you would expect to figure out the controls. "Hm." He zooms in on various specific aspects of the station, including security shields, typical guard patrols depending on the day, the docking bay, and several details of the layout including the locations of major terminals. He sighs and says, "...I think I could do it. In fact, I might do it. Although yes, we'd need a team. And I can't promise that I'd be in for the full haul until I did the job and find out what you're up to. Does that make sense?"
-
"Brain warping connosseiur is right!" crows Jeffrey, his voice reverberating with his glee. "I know everything there is to know in my world about Espers! I mean..." Jeffrey pauses. "Largely because of the whole, 'I don't want to get any crazier than I already am', bit, but yeah." Jeffrey grins. "I'd love to take you to the dome, Android Buck Rogers, if I had any idea how to get back. I don't have a ship. I don't even know how I got over here! One minute I'm---" Jeffrey makes a throat-slit motion with his finger, and then pretends to stumble backwards. "And the next minute it's Space Western with a side of pirate."
"As for the widgets, hell..." He eyes the marvel that is Al and the trader's ship. "I think I'll take you up on that. Although I'm loathe to point out that all I've got is blood, a key, and a freaking cell phone. And I might need the cell phone. I hope when I talk to your dork buddy some of that is worth something."
-
A pair of emerald colored eyes peered out from under the hood of a white and gray hoody as a petite human figure eased into the old, out of the way bar. A few auburn strands hung out of the hood down across shoulders with a distinctively female slop. The new come seemed to pay little regard to other patrons as she breezed by with an effortless stride, heading straight for the bar. Pulling down her hood it was revealed that the shape of her frame hadn't lied about her gender. Messy auburn waves collected and pooled in the hood hanging from her back as she slid onto one of the stools.
"I'll take a sho' of your stronges' liquor." She spoke softly once the bar tender had a moment. "Tha's nah' lethal to human." She added as an afterthought. She looked to be old enough for a drink, mid to late twenties at least. But then again even children weren't children in times of war.
-
Salem frowns and looks towards the door. "Myitt took a different host?" He looks back at Joanne, intending to ask for an explanation, but her tone makes it clear she's confused by the situation as well. "You'll have to point this other host out to me, at least."
When Keshin begins inquiring after the motives for this mission, Salem sighs. He doesn't want to start getting in to all this. He turns to watch as first one, then two, then three newcomers enter the bar. All three appear to be human, though in a place like this, that can mean very little. They give the impression of being separate parties, but that may be an act. A distinct tingle of fear, and the usual accompanying excitement, passes through him. Whether they're together or not, every newcomer has a chance of recognizing him, of being another bounty hunter or a representative of the Empire, or of the Andalites... he smirks to himself. Pretty much anyone that walks in has a good chance of wanting him dead. It'd be absurd, that his life's come to this, if it weren't so nerve-wracking.
His eyes track to the blond man who orders a coffee. He frowns, staring for a few moments, as though trying to figure something out. The man feels different, somehow, to the new sense Mar'd bestowed upon him years before. His eyes flick towards the auburn-haired woman, noting the way she holds herself-- an air of unconcern masking an underlying alertness, a wariness that only comes of experience. Or... so he imagines, at least. It's always possible he's projecting his own emotions onto her. With a visible shake of his shoulders, he turns back to Keshin, who is now fidgeting with his display. Even as he returns to the conversation, he keeps one wary eye out for trouble.
He smirks. "Isn't it considered... like, a faux pas or whatever to ask too many questions about a job?" He sighs. "I'm the client on this one. There's a..." He furrows his brow, trying to figure out where to start. "There's a movement within the Andalite higher-ups. I don't have all the details yet. Whatever's going on... it's covert. Well-hidden. Tough to gather the intel on. Very underground kind of stuff. But, as far as I can tell, the movement is mostly about... about letting the Yeerks win. About letting the Empire destroy... whatever this movement decides. Whoever it decides. Letting the Yeerks do their dirty work. About pulling the Andalites out of the war, about putting their resources into defense." He runs a hand through his hair and looks away. "I... I don't know if I've ever told you, but I spent some time with the Andalites. Years, actually." He lets out a bitter, choked laugh. "They might be a bunch of arrogant, xenophobic, hateful, grass-munching idiots, but their planet... was my home. I care about them. Some more than others. And I'm not going to let some deluded underground conspiracy destroy them, or hurt my... hurt my friends."
He smiles sheepishly, seeming to remember where he is. "The plan will be to allow the station to function as a sensor platform while crippling its ability to act as a waystation for troops. One of the... er... kingpins of this little conspiracy is scheduled to pass through the station soon. Our plan depends on shadowing him effectively. He's also our potential mark." He smiles tiredly. "I'm hoping we can find enough information to stop this movement in its tracks. I don't think it's very widespread at the moment."
As the bartender approaches each of the bar's new patrons in turn, his response is the same. He sets their requested drinks down in front of them, never speaking so much as a word. Along with the drink, he slides a tattered, yellowed old notepad on which three words are written. Cash or Tab?
-
Al laughs and rolls his eyes. "Believe me, you're far from the first person to wind up here with no idea how to leave." He shrugs. "People seem to just fade out from time to time. It was creepy at first, but you get used to it. The ones that come back later have usually ended up at home." He twirls a finger around his ear in the 'crazy' gesture. "Just part of the appeal of this nuthouse, I guess."
"Ah, young grasshoppah," He says, in his 'elderly kung-fu master' voice. "You have more to offer than widgets. You should be putting a high price on information." He grins and drops the accent. "I imagine Salem will be as interested in your dome and your mind powers," he wiggles his fingers beside his head in a gesture that he seems to think means 'telepathy,' "as I am. Difference is that you can make him pay you for specifics."
"Tell you what," he says, looking towards the bar. "It sounds like it's died down to a dull roar in there. Let's head inside. I could sure as heck use a drink." He spins on his heel and heads for the door. "I'll buy us a round."
As he walks, he cups his hand and calls towards the lake, "Hey, Will, join us inside when you're all squeaky clean! Drinks courtesy of my friend's bank account!"
-
Forlin is catching bits and pieces of the conversation around him. He finds it interesting, though right now his focus is on the newcomer, the woman in the hoodie. He is constantly looking around, wishing he had his stalk-eyes because there are so many people.
The bartender wants to know–asking via a notepad, oddly enough. Was he mute?–if they were paying with cash or tab. "Does Earth money work? Or a credit card from Earth?" the Andalite-turned-human queries. This place doesn't seem to be quite on Earth, though it is from there that he had accessed it. He has his wallet in his bag, containing money, shop loyalty cards, and his driver's license. All of which could very well be useless.
"I'll put it on tab now, if so." He hopes he will be able to purchase something here. This is an interesting place. He can learn much about the galaxy here...possibly even get into contact with his parents.
He turns to the woman in the hoodie. "Hello," he says nervously. "Come here often?"
-
Jorek eyes Cameron, and Dalik within her, with mild surprise. He doesn't budge from his casual position, leaning with his back on the bar counter, elbows propping him up.
"I might ask you the same thing," he says flatly. "If you must know, I'm looking for someone to complete a job that will make our job much easier. Calm down, Dalik, and let me buy you a drink."
He turns to the bartender. "Another one for me, please," he says politely, with a winning smile, gesturing with the tumbler full of melting ice.
Myitt grips Guppy's arm. "You and me both, kid," she hisses. "I think we're both drunk. And there are too many people in here now. It's getting claustrophobic. I...I need to get some fresh air."
With the air of paranoia that only decades of untreated post-traumatic stress and living on the fringes of a war can bring, she scans the room to count the people inside.
Somehow, that made her feel momentarily relieved. And a little less drunk.
She inspects the blonde newcomer, fidgeting in sweatpants and ordering a plain coffee. Something about the way he moves and walks is weirdly familiar, but she can't quite place why.
The hooded creature. Bright green eyes. That was unusual. Was she a threat?
<<It's okay, Myitt,>> her host soothes. <<Just breathe. Look, you're gonna squeeze Guppy's arm off.>>
Myitt blinks, forcing herself to relinquish the blind man's upper arm.
<<You're right,>> she mutters, scanning the room again for signs of unrest. She didn't recognize the woman in the Imperial uniform, marching up to the other one - the man in the Imperial garb - but they were certainly chummy, in a I-might-want-to-kill-you sort of way.
Her fingers twitch on the bar counter.
Overwhelmed, she closes her eyes and does what her host suggests: she breathes, muttering under her breath as she counts, painting a mental picture of the people in the room. Yes, that was better, somehow.
-
Dalik's shoulders remain tight, her gaze suspicious. "I'm looking for my brother," she says. "He said he was going to meet me here, but he's late." Her eyes dart around the room, taking in the numerous newcomers. "Is it really safe for you to be here, sir?" She says the last word with a healthy dose of sarcasm.
She doesn't give him a chance to answer, waving her hand. "Nevermind. I don't want to know. I'm not here for you, and our plans are on hold right now." She takes the drink the bartender has provided, sniffing it. "Alcohol? Really, Jorek. She's fifteen."
With an incredulous huff, she turns and walks away from him -- her exit to the conversation as abrupt as her entrance. She doesn't go far, though, plopping down further into the bar, near Sorin.
She casts a suspicious glance in his direction and then pulls out her computer cube, bringing up a holoscreen. "Do you want this?" she asks, shoving the drink in Sorin's direction.
The lake water is like ice, and William flinches as he scrubs the blood from his chest, a shiver running through him. Despite the cold he lingers, comforted by the sensation of water against his bare skin, not quite ready to rejoin the growing throng of patrons within the bar.
These Yeerks...such strange creatures, he thinks to himself, and for a moment he is actually surprised that there is no returning voice. The thought makes him smile. Dalik had only infested him for an hour or so, and yet his human mind had adjusted quickly. Or was it his Grigori mind that made him so readily prepared to accept the voice of another in his head?
The voice, but not the control. William drew his arms over his head, arching his back in a full body stretch. He could abide another voice in his head, but not one who took control of his every motion. Even his abilities had been useless in the face of Yeerk dominance.
Shaking himself like a dog, William relaxes and trudges out of the lake. Naked, he watches the entrance to the bar. Several new people had arrived while he was washing, but they were out of sight now. One, at least, had seemed female, and far older than Dalik's host. That thought makes him smile. Perhaps tonight would not be a complete waste.
"Not a waste," he murmurs to himself. No, these Yeerks contained possibility. He could use them...perhaps. But Dalik had not been particularly forthcoming in the goals of this strange, alien species. He would need to learn more.
Bending, William recovers his britches and boots, pulling them on and securing his knife to his side. He hesitates before tugging on the black shirt Al provided him. It's made of a foreign material, and is uncomfortably tight. He has a feeling it won't last long. Shrugging, he reties his ponytail and makes his way back towards the bar.
-
"No joke," Guppy says, gently rubbing his temples.
<<Gaf . . .>>
<<Yeah, I know. I'm feeling it too.>>
"If you need to step outside, I'm with you on that," he says to Myitt. "I'm gettin' a little nauseous myself." He brushes his hair out of his face with a slightly shaky hand. "No rush or anything, but if I'm gonna get sick or whatever, I'd rather not do it in here."
Sorin quizzically looks at the open bottle being held in front of his face. "What, me?" He gently pushes the drink back toward Dalik. "Sorry, I'm not really much for booze." He looks back up and squints at the BT holding out the notepad. "Put it on my tab for now, I suppose."
He takes a generous sip of his Cherry Coke before turning back to Dalik. "Guess I'm popular all of a sudden. Hoping old Blades 'n' Brains back there didn't rough anyone else up?"
-
Nyr surveys the other patrons of the bar darkly. They wouldn't notice him now...he'd made himself unnoticeable...or at least unremarkable. His mother had called those who used this trick "Grey Men." They were there if you paid attention, especially if you were a perceptive or gifted person. But somehow you just never noticed them or really saw them. He doesn't particularly want to be disturbed anyway. He slowly gets up, cape and hair hanging unnaturally straight as he moves to a back booth in the furthest corner, still using his Grey Man trick. The BT's eyes flash at him knowingly, but Nyr merely shrugs, drinking the black liquid from his tumbler as he sits in the new spot, completely out of the way.
* * *
Rathien rolls his shoulders back and forth, glancing over at the Imperial who'd asked for his services. He chuckles to himself and moves to sit in the booth directly behind Salem. He certainly doesn't want to look like a puppy following his master around, but the bar was starting to get crowded with a lot of new faces. This particular corner is pretty quiet...aside from Salem and the other turulek. Of course, that made eavesdropping a matter of ease.
* * *
Ossanlin finishes his run through the woods, subconsciously scanning for life-force at the bar. He notes that there are more people than before, and not all of them inside the little wooden shack. Salem would be there...Ossanlin rolls his main eyes. That character...and that insufferable Jeffrey was likely still around as well, much as he wishes otherwise. The woods are serene and peaceful, but the bar might explode at any second without him in it. Of course it could still do that with him in it, but Myitt was in there. Just because the Myitt of the original timeline had abandoned him doesn't mean that this one would as well. And this one happens to be drunk and drugged. A true friend wouldn't let her stay in there without someone to watch her back for her. And poor Tara was probably just along for the ride at this point. Tara had always been a true friend. Not that Myitt hadn't, but Tara would've stayed with the Tyrennian if it had been up to her. Of course she would stay with Myitt, but Ossanlin had felt her desire to remain, and her dissatisfaction with Myitt's decision to abandon Rogue Element.
<Such is life. What would leisure time be if not for the constant threat of bodily harm?> He speaks quietly to himself as he turns back toward the bar. After a few seconds, he reaches the bar and frowns as he spots Jeffrey outside...with Al. Oh good...that's rich. He pushes through the swinging saloon-style doors and uses all four eyes to survey the occupants. There was Myitt, probably drunk and sitting with another controller. So many controllers in the bar. His eyes catch the Imperial uniform on one of them, staring at the controller for a moment, making a mental note of the man. Aside from a few other new faces, the patrons appear relatively normal for this place. He notes the old Hork Bajir seer is no longer there. That one had been an enigma. And then of course...Salem. He does his best to ignore the man's presence, though the fact that he's engaging in private conversation with Keshin spells trouble.
He trots up to a relatively-open spot at the bar, royal-blue fur glinting with highlights of silver even in this low light. The BT looks at him questioningly and he shakes his head. <Just water.> The BT shrugs and shoves the bowl of water underneath the bar for Ossanlin to dip his hoof into. He keeps a wary stalk-eye glued on the Imperial uniform while the other continues to actively scan the rest of the bar.
-
Keshin's frown grows deeper the longer Salem talks about the details. From what he could tell, the trader was involved in something far bigger and far more dangerous than he was. And Salem's ship, reach, and contacts had always made him dangerous. What mad group of Andalites would want to allow the Yeerks to destroy their own side in the war? Keshin had heard whisperings of something...more within the Andalite ranks, some greater idea or conspiracy active on the fringes of that world...But he avoided the Andalites with good reason. Keshin shakes his head and stares into that drink he couldn't remember ordering. His eyes flit between it and Salem.
<<...I don't know. If...If what Salem's saying is true, and Joanne I really think it is...Can we afford to not be involved?What if we do nothing and it somehow impacts our business, and badly?>>
<<Dunno. Something smells about all this. Why does Salem even know all this crap? I mean, who gave him this information? I--->>
Keshin winces and turns blearily back toward the Bar. The Bartender looks directly at him. There's a sudden rush of vertigo that overcomes Keshin and Joanne, and he pushes up Joanne's bangs as beads of sweat form on their brow. Something was...wrong, here. For a moment, Keshin felt like there was some reason he and Joanne should already know more about the conspiracy. But that wasn't possible. They'd just heard about it.
<<Kess, are you okay?>> Joanne's voice shocks him back to reality.
"Ah," he says, as everything seems to come back into focus. He looks back at Salem and says, "Alright, fine. I'll do it. We'll take the job, Salem. But you'd...you had better have more of an explanation once we're farther along, alright?"
Keshin blinks as Ossanlin returns to the Bar. The Andalite. ....I have to talk to him. Determine what we're going to do.
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"Agreed," says Jeffrey with a fresh grin. "Sounds like it's about time I make my next entrance. If your friend wants what I know, I'll tell him! The lack of leverage in this place is..." Jeffrey rubs his palms together as they walk. "...making me horribly uncomfortable."
Jeffrey swings open the double doors ahead of them, smiling, and then glowers as soon as he sees Ossanlin. "Oh, great." He points a thumb at the Andalite. "It's that guy. He...doesn't like me. It's because I tried to get this bounty hunter killed earlier. Stupid. It was fun--- Livened this dull crowd right up."
-
(Sorry for taking so long. Having trouble feeling my character for this setting. ^-^; )
Emerald eyes glanced briefly at the note pad slid her direction. It seemed the bartender was unable to communicate verbally or telepathically. Leona didn't really think too much of it. Just as wordlessly as the bartender had asked, Leona reached into the pocket of fitted blue jeans to produce some kind of cash currency. Exactly what planet or species the money originated from was anyone's guess, but it certainly didn't look human. Cash had always felt safer to the paranoid human, less traceable. Leaving the cash on the bar top she lifted her drink to sip at it. Turning to glance around the bar those emerald eyes doing a quick double take realizing someone was speaking to her.
For a second Leona studied the blonde boy warily, looking a bit uncertain about trusting him. "Firs' time here." She finally answered, apparently finding the stranger safe enough to at least speak to.
-
"Who?" Dalik asks, squinting at Sorin. "Oh...the Hork-Bajir? No, he was fairly quiet while he was here." Shee leaves the drink untouched on the bartop. "I wouldn't say you're popular. You're just the unlucky individual I chose to sit by while avoiding others."
Her smile is curt. "Don't worry, I'm perfectly capable of ignoring you." She pulls up her holoscreens, as if to demonstrate her point.
William stops just in front of the doors to the bar, pausing to retie his hair in its simple ponytail. Then he steps in, squinting in the dim light.
It's more crowded, and his gaze finds more than one promising individual. He's about to approach one woman, but then he notices Dalik near her and pauses. "No, thank you," he murmurs. At least, not yet. He needed more information first. He seeks out Al, joining him.
"That's better," he sighs. "Though I daresay this shirt is a bit...tight." He adjusts the spandex uncomfortably.
-
Jorek watches Dalik stalk off. For his part, he is unmoved by her display of emotion. He briefly locks eyes with Rathien, but looks off again.
No, it was no use pushing. He was patient enough.
When the Andalite War-Prince trots in, though - that catches Jorek's attention.
He stares, a heartbeat too long, before collecting himself.
"Excuse me," he says, politely, though his smile is unctuous. He looks Ossanlin up and down. "I think I know you."
Myitt, just a few seats down, grabs Gaf's hand.
"C'mon, let's step outside for a minute, alright? It'll do us some good, man. I feel like I'm going to die." She leads him to the door, grateful for the fresh air outside.
Before stepping across the threshold, she glances back reluctantly. Ossanlin was here now, too. That was good.
But she was fairly certain she was going to hurl.
Yep. Definitely going to.
Out into the night she goes, staggering to the side of the building before evacuating the contents of her stomach into the tall grass.
-
Ossanlin watches the Imperial walk up to him with his stalk eye, not turning his main eyes on the controller. His tail twitches, but he keeps the look of disgust from gracing his face.
<I'm certain we've never met. I don't make a habit of befriending Imperial loyalists.> He drinks deeply from the water bowl beneath the bar. His tone of thought is calm and icy. His fingers twitch as if wanting to reach for one of his swords, but he retains his "relaxed" posture. <Bold of someone in a true Imperial uniform to approach any Andalite, let alone one with a War Prince insignia on his belt.>
-
"Mm," says Jorek, eyes on Ossanlin's face, not his tail. "That's true, I am an Imperial Yeerk, and you are an Andalite War Prince."
He tilts his head, considering.
"Perhaps I am mistaken. I could have sworn you were the War Prince Ossanlin-Rethin-Sephirel. If you are, then we have met, though you likely don't remember me."
-
Salem feels it when Rathien sits down behind him. He very nearly says something snarky to Keshin specifically for Rathien's benefit, but he bites his tongue and chokes back a grin. A part of him feels an exhilarating little burst of pride, or something like it. He knows Rathien's aura... or whatever it is... well enough to know it's him without looking. Maybe he can learn to use this sense properly. He's still not sure if Mar really did anything to him, or if the being simply... showed him how to use something he already had, but he's had so little chance to practice it properly... to allow it to grow...
With the little boost to his confidence, he relaxes his mind, allowing the sense to go farther, deeper, to flow out from him. He allows himself to feel the buzzing, rippling, nearly electric current of reality, the vibrating, quivering tendrils of energy and darkness which flow within and throughout everything... but he sits bolt upright again when he feels another being's aura-thing. He glances with a frown at the man who moves towards the rearmost booth. His aura's been here since Salem entered, but so far Salem hasn't given it a second thought. There's something different about this one. And not different in the way the blond man's aura is different... this one crackles with energy and darkness, and, moreover, there's something... familiar flowing from him. Just a snippet, a whiff, like the sun struggling to peek through a rain-drenched sky. It's the sense of an energy that Salem knows... intimately, almost, or even instinctively. With a frown, Salem scrutinizes the man closely.
Before he can draw any conclusions, however, his breath catches in his throat. Ossanlin has just walked through the door. The young War-Prince looks very much like Salem remembers him. Proud. Strong. Grumpy. And judging by the brief stalk-eye glance Ossanlin throws Salem's way, there's no love lost there. Salem hasn't really admitted it to himself, but on his way back to this bar, Ossanlin had been the one he'd envisioned speaking with the most... and is perhaps the one being here whose help he needs above all others. That's going to be a fun chat.
With a sigh, he turns back to Keshin. He blinks-- what she's said takes a moment to register, then he laughs. "Of course," he says. "I'll go into full detail once we have everyone together. It's just... there's a lot, and I'd rather only have to go through it once. I know enough not to take my team into something like this blind."
He stands and places a hand on the wall between their booth and the one where Rathien sits. He looks to Keshin. "Thank you," he says, and there's a sincerity in his voice, a vulnerability he seldom, if ever, lets show. Turning to Rathien, he says , "Both of you. We'll do this right."
Al shrugs as he follows Jeffrey through the swinging doors saloon-style doors. "You know, lack of 'leverage' doesn't mean much if you have friends." He clasps his hands over his heart. "Like, thousands upon thousands of dancing fools. Or at least a couple of drinks and someone to bull**** with." He laughs. "Just depends where your ambitions are. I doubt you'll get much farther than that in this particular... uh, universe. I don't think Mr. Personality," he gestures towards the bartender, who is absently polishing a mug with a dirty towel, "would let things get out of hand." Al glances and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that Salem is apparently not bleeding out. And he's found Keshin! Al smiles and waves at Joanne, then sends a grin and a mini-salute Rathien's way.
When Jeffrey mentions trying to get someone killed, Al stares at him for a second, then rubs the bridge of his nose. "Ah-yep. That's definitely the kind of thing Ossanlin wouldn't like." Towards the Andalite, Al throws a warm, if brief, smile. "Not that I object to livening this place up," he says, glancing at the bar, crowded with patrons, "but I think I might have approached that particular goal a bit differently."
He turns to William as the man walks up and lets out a low whistle. "Looks good on you. You get used to the tightness. Just..." he reaches out and tugs quickly at William's shirt, straightening a section. "Just... try not to think about it. In some ways it's supposed to feel like wearing nothing at all. Trust me, in the future, this is the height of fashion." He laughs. "Or at least it's a fashion."
He waves the bartender over, then turns to the other two. "Bar's a bit crowded. You guys okay with the fray, or shall we get a table? And while we're at it, what're you both drinking?"
-
Ossanlin's eyes widen a bit as the controller calls him by name. Of course, for an Imperial to recognize him wasn't so inconceivable...his multiple successful missions against the Imperials combined with his propaganda status on the Homeworld put a lot of Dracon crosshairs on his head. What a coup it would be, the Imperials finally defeat the Andalites' "invincible Prince." A nickname Ossanlin dislikes, but begrudgingly tolerates. He knows full well just how "un-invincible" he really is.
His tail twitches again, though he continues to keep himself at bay. This Imperial who boldly walked up to him...who apparently has no care or concern about Ossanlin's rank, loyalties, or tail...demands cool calm. Physical responses would only lower his stake and likely have little to no effect. Instead, he opts for ambiguity, neither confirming nor denying his identity. <How do you know that name?>
* * *
Rathien has begun idly flipping one of his knives through the air again as he listens to the conversation, booted feet up on the table in front of him. He raises his eyebrows as Keshin agrees to go along with Salem's ridiculous plans. That was somewhat unexpected...but then again, maybe not. Most people felt some sort of loyalty to a person who's saved their life. He glances at Al as the robot walks into the bar and returns his salute, nonchalantly raising two fingers in his direction.
The Ildari grins darkly to himself as Salem thanks both of them. He continues idly flipping the knife as he speaks up, not bothering to look at the trader. "See, you're funny...I don't remember agreeing to going along with this."
-
As more and more people enter the bar--some of them clearly Controllers by the things they said--Forlin is getting more and more nervous and fidgety. Food and coffee are forgotten in the wake of wanting to be safe from infestation. The fact that there's an Andalite in here both puts him at a little more ease...but then again he doesn't know this person. All of them...he's in a room full of strangers.
"Excuse me..." he tells the bartender and the redheaded girl. "Just need to be...right back." He rushes for the men's bathroom, declothing and demorphing once he is inside.
Now in his Andalite form, Forlin picks up his clothes and returns. He feels that Andalite optimism, and it feels good to be able to look behind him without turning his head. Even though he's going a bit mad from the cramped quarters. He returns to his spot at the bar. One stalk-eye is on the Andalite prince and the Controller that is...talking to him? Another scanning the other occupants of the room.
But his main eyes are on the red-haired girl in the hoodie. <I'm the blond kid, the one who ordered coffee...I was in morph but...sorry about not telling you that...> He paws at the ground nervously. <I'm Forlin-Langor-Chulain, by the way. I suppose I shoulda introduced myself.> He eye-smiled nervously. <And I have no idea what is going on, in this place. Umm...how did you find this place?>
-
While Myitt empties her gut, Guppy takes a temporary seat in front of the entrance to the Bar with his head rested in his palms. "You holdin' up okay?" he asks just loudly enough for Myitt to hear. "Last time I got this smashed, I ended up dry heaving all the next day. Stomach felt like . . . sorry, I'm really not helping." He takes a plain white pill after fumbling for it in his pants pocket and swallows it, cringing as it goes down his throat.
"Probably gonna cut myself off here," Gaf continues, more to himself and Chris than Myitt. "I think I can keep my lunch down right now, and I'd rather stay that way."
With a blank expression, Sorin watches Dalik isolate herself with her holoscreens. After staring for maybe too long, he turns back to his soda. "Fine by me," he mutters.
He sits for a few minutes in silence, only moving to take the occasional sip of his drink and size up the Bar's other patrons. Mostly a small assortment of humans - or at least, humanoids. And a pair of Andalites, of course. Better not stir that pot.
Finally, he rests his arm on the Bar and turns back to Dalik. "So, can I at least get a name or something? I'm not too big on sitting around staring at a wall forever."
-
She glances at him, looking mildly irritated to be interrupted. "Dalik Two-Eight-Five-Five the Prime," she says primly. There's a brief pause. "And you?"
Pushing her holoscreens aside she gives him another once-over, scrutinizing his appearance. "If you don't want to stare at a wall, why are you sitting alone in shadows?"
William glances at the bar, then Al. "Uh, ale please," he says, still trying to take in the array of newcomers. "So, you act like you've been here before. Who here do you already know?"
-
Keshin notices Rathien's presence at around the same time that Salem does, as the man tensed, or excited in some way, as soon as Rathien arrived. Keshin can't help but roll his eyes at the other bounty hunter. How could he be so...coquettish? Here he was, acting like a woman playing hard-to-get when he had tried to kill Salem only an hour ago. Desperately, crazily! Whatever had happened with them was far beyond him, and he was essentially dating his own host. There is an internal blush, and Keshin immediately shuts out his own thoughts from Joanne. That could wait.
He couldn't deny the bounty hunter's incredible skill, however. Keshin's eyes move up and down in time to Rathien's tosses of the knife. He nods as Salem reassures him. What Salem said made total sense, of course. He'd want his entire team together before executing the plan. "Of course," says Keshin. "Other than us, depending on whether your old flame has any interest..." Keshin can't resist another smirk at the Ildari. "...who else do you have in mind? I'm hardly the only bounty hunter swimming in the star ocean." He pauses, and then gives Salem a nod. "If you need anyone, I could give you some suggestions, but you seem like you already have some idea of who you want."
Keshin nearly does a spit take when he sees Al waving at him with that horrible man who nearly tried to kill him. Keshin points at Jeffrey. "That's the guy. The guy that Myitt was in. The guy that, I think, tried to murder us. Or...Myitt...tried to murder us. It's hard to say."
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Jeffrey breathes in the air of the bar sharply, relaxing. "Aaahhh," he says to Al. "Nothing like the smell of unwashed balls and fiery drink to warm you right in the blood. And hell, I don't even drink all that much."
He snerks as soon as he hears Al's comment, putting his hand on his hip. "Oh? And what the heck would you have done? Oh right, I remember--- Literally dropped a giant disco ball on us while playing old tunes from the 21st century. At the time, messing with these Yeerks or whatever seemed like the only option. It's really interesting to me, what they can do though!" He puts his finger in his ear, mimicking a Yeerk entering. "Squeeze through that tiny hole and see everything there is to know about you! Control your every movement! Heh..."
Jeffrey snickers. "...maybe that's why the ones I got were so lousy at resisting an Esper's cons."
Jeffrey glances at the bar when Al mentions drinks and says, "Same thing as before. Crown and Coke on the rocks. Except maybe a Red Shocker too. Haven't had one of those things in a while. By the way Blackbeard, you look good. Really...good." He looks William up and down with obvious, almost laviscious appreciation.
-
Jorek smiles at Ossanlin.
"I know that name, my dear Andalite, because I know you're a decorated war hero," he says calmly. "You and I met exactly once. I should say, I recognized you, and you wouldn't recognize me." He laughs pleasantly. "Not like this, in any case. That's hardly fair." Jorek pauses, giving his human host a self-directed gesture.
He considers the Andalite curiously. "Where are my manners? My name is Jorek. Just...Jorek, for now. No need for numbers." The strange and energetic Controller titters, pressing a couple of fingers to his mouth. "I must say, it's an honor to meet you again in person. If...you truly are who I think you are."
Even though his attention is entirely on Ossanlin, some part of his brain picks up on the entrance of another Andalite, this one much younger, from the rear part of the building. He suppresses the urge to grit his teeth.
Myitt retches for a few minutes, finally and laboriously straightening up to lean against the outer facade of the bar.
"Ugh," she agrees with Guppy, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. "No more drinking and no more oatmeal." She cringes, trudging slowly back towards the bar entrance.
She sits heavily next to him and sighs, swallowing hard. Leans her head back against the bar's shell. And stares up at the sky.
"So," she finally croaks. She sniffles. "You wanna talk about building some goggles?"
-
Salem lets out a genuine laugh when Rathien speaks. His instinct is to simply cackle and dance away from the Ildari without answering-- it's simply amazing how easy it is to fall back into their old... not pattern, exactly; it had been far too wild to ever be called that... but their old behaviors, right down to the little things like this.
"You always know just what to say to cheer me up," he says, smirking at Rathien and pointedly refusing to offer any comment on his actual statement.
Salem turns to Keshin and snaps "No!" It comes out quicker and harsher than he'd intended. He shakes his head. "Sorry. I mean... yes, I'll take suggestions. It's going to get a whole lot rougher than this little cakewalk," he says, flicking the floating image of the space station and setting it to spinning and tumbling in place over the table. "Er... probably. No way to know for sure just yet."
He turns towards the bar and pauses as he notes the new Andalite. "Huh," he mutters. So that explained the strangeness in the blond man's aura. An Andalite in morph. Probably one of Ossanlin's lieutenants.
He turns back to Keshin, "Anybody we bring in needs to be trustworthy. Verifiable by me. And I really don't like hunters these days," he says. "I doubt I'm going to be the only member of the team with a price on his head, and I can't be worrying about my own team stabbing me in the back." He sighs. "That said, if either of you has any suggestions, I'll definitely hear them out. Thaum knows we're going to need all the help we can get."
He turns and looks at the man to whom Keshin points, and narrows his eyes. He thinks he can feel something... off about the man, though he has no idea if he's sensing it or if it's just a vibe the man gives off or if it's something he's imagining altogether. The guy's already all buddy-buddy with Al, from the look of things. He narrows his eyes as he stares at Jeffrey. "I'll keep an eye on that one, then," he mutters without turning back to Keshin. "Last thing this dump needs is more chaos."
Al grins and mouths a string of completely incomprehensible gibberish in Salem's direction. Salem smiles and nods absently, then looks around the bar, frowning. "Where'd Myitt go?"
Al inhales deeply through his nose and leans on a clear section of bar. "Rrr, yeah," he says back to Jeffrey in his 'extremely masculine lumberjack at the end of a long work week' voice. "It's the smell of untold decades of crazies and drunks, of history and competitions and..." he sniffs again and screws up his face, then drops the voice. "And dinosaurs?" He frowns at the bartender. "Seriously? Or is my schnozz malfunctioning again?" When the bartender continues to stare at him, he says, "Dude, do you have a name? It'd be so much easier to talk to you if I knew your name." After another awkward few seconds, he swallows. "Um. Martini. Grey Goose. Shaken, not stirred, twist of WD-40. And I've got theirs as well," he says, nodding towards William, then Jeffrey.
He sighs and says to Jeffrey, "Honestly, they teach entire courses on having fun without bloodshed. Just like a supervillain, I assume..." He grins excitedly. "Aren't they though? The Yeerks are one of the most interesting species I've ever met, and that's saying something. I don't wanna brag, but I'm pretty well-traveled and world-wise." He mock-pretentiously polishes his fingernails on his jacket. "Sadly, since I don't identify as organic, I don't think I get to have that whole 'having my brain stolen' experience any time soon myself, so I must experience it vicariously through you."
He turns to William, "Well, that..." he gestures towards the door, "was Tara, and probably also Myitt. They're good people. I'd say they're a peach, but it'd confuse you and they'd probably punch me, so I won't say that. The blue one's Ossanlin. He's also good people, but if I had to pick a fruit, I'd have to say he's more... tangelo. He doesn't like me much, because I ran him over once. Uhhmm" he looks around. "That's Salem, my sidekick and copilot. He's an ****, but I'm slowly grooming him to be a fully functioning member of society." At that moment, he catches Salem's eye, and proudly mouths, "My new acquaintances are a ghost pirate and a supervillain!" Judging by Salem's absent nod, however, the man doesn't really get it. Hopeless.
"The pointy one's Rathien. He's definitely not good people, but I like him just fine anyway. Guy's a hell of a lot of fun, pun intended. That one's Joanne, and probably Keshin. We've got a bit of a history of saving each other's lives. It's good to see them back here. This," he says, accepting his martini from the bartender, "is Walter. Thank you Walter." At the bartender's frown, he says, "Not Walter, then. Is it Richard? Or... Brian? I'll guess it one of these days, Rumpelstiltskin!" he calls to the bartender's retreating back. He pauses expectantly, then makes an 'oh shucks' gesture with his hand. "Thought I had him," he mutters, and takes a sip of his martini.
"I think that's everyone I know," he says to William, then he grins widely and says in his 'excessively chipper camp counselor' voice, "Everyone else is just a friend I haven't made yet."
-
Ossanlin narrows his eyes at the Imperial controller. He can't possibly think of any time or place where he'd potentially met the man, although it was sometimes hard to separate between the memories from the timeline that was and the ones from the current flow. <I wasn't aware that the Imperials bought into our propaganda as much as our own people.> Ossanlin makes no effort to conceal the War Prince badge insignia on his belt though he still does not confirm Jorek's suspicions about his identity. <I'll be sure to remember it...Jorek, was it? I'd say it's pleasant to meet you, but we're beyond such pretentious platitudes, yes? What do you want?>
He keeps his main eyes on the controller, but one of his stalks catches sight of another Andalite...coming from the back. Not someone he recognized either. Not many Andalites came here or even knew of this place. Odd, indeed.
* * *
Rathien raises an eyebrow, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth for a moment, still not looking at Salem. Just like old times... "That's me, your own personal fairy-****in'-godmother." He suddenly flips the knife up in the air, arcing and sailing high. If the trader didn't move, it would sink itself into the padded foam of the booth he's sitting in right between his legs...probably. If Salem didn't catch it anyway...it wasn't like he'd actually thrown the knife with any type of speed or intent...just lobbed it really. "Difference is I bite, and I know just where to sink my fangs."
He smiles sweetly...except it's not so sweet. "How about Thienal? I'm sure he'd just die to get near you."
-
Jorek lifts a shoulder. "I don't want anything, really," he says simply. "Not from you. It isn't often I get the chance to ah, rub elbows as it were, with Andalite War Princes. And I do get the chance to fraternize with the in crowd. I take networking quite seriously, as a matter of fact."
He taps the bar counter. "Could I have the honor of buying you a drink? A grass smoothie?" He grins again, that disarmingly cheerful smile.
-
"Call me Sorin," the human says. "My full name . . . well, I guess that's not important. Which is to say, it's probably important to someone, but damned if I'm gonna let it slip." A wide grin spreads across his face as he sits back in his stool.
"I just figured everyone was busy with their own conversations," he says, quickly changing the topic. "But when you come over here and start a conversation, well, I expect for you to actually chat instead of burying yourself in a computer. No offense, of course."
"Oatmeal?" Guppy says incredulously with a blank stare in Myitt's general direction. "Better be careful with that stuff. Could mess you up bad." He laughs weakly. "Man, Chris that's the dumbest thing ever. Friggin' oatmeal."
"But goggles, huh? I'm guessing you're not talking about fashion?" He breathes a deep, thoughtful sigh. "Y'know, it's kinda funny. Everyone always told me before I was assigned a host, 'once you can see, it's like a whole new world.' I mean, don't get me wrong, Chris is the best friend I could ask for, but I kinda feel screwed over, I guess."
Guppy pauses for a second. When he speaks again, his words come out a little slower than usual. "I've heard the stars are beautiful. That's something I always wanted to see. And people back on Earth used to rave to Chris about Scarlett Johansson. Would like to see her too." He leans back and rests his head against the door. "What all would I have to do to get some of these goggles made?"
-
"I dunno, we could look for parts around the shipyard, though it would take time and some serious elbow grease to get the right components. Some good luck, too," Myitt says with a sigh, looking out over the rusted, looming hulks of metal. And, of course, Al and Salem's ship.
"We could ask for help," she says slowly, running a thumb along the side of her mouth. "I'd probably better go rinse my mouth out anyway." She gives Guppy a hearty slap on the back. "C'mon, let's get you some eyes. It..." She pauses, suddenly overcome with unexpected...feelin gs. "It really is...remarkable. I'm no poet, I can't do it justice."
Her fingers brush his, ready to help him up.
"As for the oatmeal," she intones, clearing her throat. "Stay. The ****. Away."
-
Forlin has a stalk-eye on the red-haired girl. Was she just disinterested in talking to him? Maybe she'd gotten annoyed that he'd left so abruptly, or didn't realise he was now the Andalite standing here. Or maybe she didn't care to talk to Andalites. He just hope that he hasn't offended her.
He feels so...alone in this place. Despite there being humans and Andalites. He wants to latch onto the most familiar thing...but what is familiar here? The Andalite, or the humans? He wants to fidget, but now that he is Andalite, he cannot drink coffee, eat food, or chew on his nails. Instead, he finds a longer tuft of fur from his chest and fiddles with it. Probably a wierd thing like picking acne in public. Or is it? He does not know. Multiple species in here, it probably doesn't matter to anyone.
He catches sight of the other Andalite. 'Ossanlin', the Yeerk had called him. The Yeerk who gave his name as Jorek. He begins to walk tentatively over to them, a stalk-eye swivelling to the bartender. He's already fed and watered as his Andalite self...is he going to be kicked out for not buying something? It is still a chance to try something new, but he is not sure his body would be used to non-Earth grasses at this point.
<Hello,> he says, unable to hide his nervousness as he paws the floor with a hoof. <I hope I'm not interrupting. I am Forlin-Langor-Chulain. I have been here for nine minutes,> he added consulting his inner clock. <Earth minutes, that is.> Perhaps they know something more about this place. Or possibly him. Perhaps this Ossanlin knows his father. And he can learn from both of them...they are both alien to him, with the exception of the human Jorek resides in. Is he a voluntary Controller, or a slave, Forlin wonders. Is he from Earth? Not that he should ask these things of the Yeerk...but it intrigues him just as much as the Andalite's presence does.
-
Jorek's smile freezes, and he surveys the young Andalite with interest.
"Fascinating," he comments quietly. "Is it commonplace for Andalites to mingle here, in this place?"
Again he regards Forlin impassively, with none of the hunger or fear his brothers might reserve for an Andalite - let alone two, right here, in his presence!
"Forlin," says Jorek, extending a hand. "My name is Jorek. I am, of course, a Yeerk." That giddy smile on his boyish features. Really, his host wasn't much older than thirty. "This handshake is the human custom for introductions, if you don't know." He focuses, carefully takes Forlin's hand and shakes it firmly, the knife-like smile returning. "It's a rare pleasure to meet more than one Andalite in a single course of conversation, I can assure you. It's been simply years since I interacted with Andalites on a regular basis."
Even though he's speaking in Galard, the intonation is jovial, not the usual bland staccato of the trade language; and, it is littered with English terms, untranslatable things like 'human' and 'handshake'.
-
Dalik watches Sorin for a few long moments before responding. "Apologies...Sorin," she says with a bare smile. "I've spent many years alone, with only the company of my computers and my host. Social etiquette is sometimes lost on me." Her smile turns rueful. "It doesn't help that each species has its own rules. If I were to simply start conversation with a Hawjabran I would almost immediately find my life in danger. Humans, on the other hand, find a lack of conversation rude."
She swipes away her holoscreens, the little green lights blipping into nothingness. A quick glance over her shoulder confirms that Jorek is nowhere near her...though her eyeebrows lift in surprise when she sees where he is. Why, by the Kandrona, would he, of all people, approach a War-Prince? she wonders. Not for the first time, she wonders if he has any sanity left to him. As she watches, a second Andalite approaches, and Jorek favors this new creature with a handshake -- a handshake!
Unable to continue watching, Dalik turns back to Sorin and forces another smile. "How did you come to be here, then? You are human, correct?" She glances at his forehead.
William takes Al's rapid-fire introductions in stride, though by the end his expression is bemused. "You are...an incredibly odd individual," he allows. Then he smiles. "I think I like you for it. As for these Yeerks, I--" He cuts himself off, frowning. "What do you mean, you do not identify as organic?"
-
The simple sound of an unexpected voice was enough to spark a paranoid mind, but a voice in her head caused the redhead to freeze up for a moment. Memories of a time she'd been controlled by a voice inside her head had her heart suddenly racing in panic. Those emerald eyes glanced quickly about the bar, seeing who was near her, if any eyes were on her. She recognized none so none should recognize her, right? But just because she didn't recognize a host didn't mean they couldn't recognize her... Paranoia was all that could described Leona's thought process before mentally screaming at herself to think.
The andalite speaking to her seemed to be the only one paying her any attention. The blonde from before, shouldn't have been surprising, andalites were rarely themselves. At least from what she'd seen. Shaking herself out of her mental stupor Leona seemed to find her voice again. "Umm, sorry. This place is getting crowded, makes me claustrophobic."
-
<If Andalites congregate here, I wouldn't know,> said Forlin with a shrug -- a very human-like shrug. His body language was often just like a human's.
He extended his hand, and Forlin shook it. <I know what a handshake is,> he said in an amused tone. <Colloquial English is not lost on me.> He could very well speak English, and Forlin would understand it just fine.
This Yeerk--Jorek--defied his expectations. He would have expected more hatred, or maybe fear. Perhaps the Yeerk wanted to infest him, and was trying to play him so that he could put himself into his head. But Forlin would be anticipating that.
Something, however, made him wonder. The Yeerk had not introduced the human he resided within. <I'm pretty curious about Yeerks, myself. And your host, what is his name? Is he voluntary?> He hoped he was...he didn't relish the idea of talking to someone that kept their host as a slave.
He had found out about the Yeerks on Earth because he'd found an escaped Hork-Bajir. He kept Kali Notur safe at his place. She had told him various things about the Yeerks.
-
Salem, at first, doesn't notice the knife flying through the air-- once he turns back to Rathien, his eyes follow Rathien's up on instinct. He reacts somewhat clumsily, slapping it aside with the butt of his Shredder so that it clatters to the floor nearby. He can feel his ears reddening, though he supposes, bitterly, that he should be proud of the speed of his Shredder draw there.
He does, however, catch enough of what Rathien says to bark out a sound that's halfway between a chuckle and a... purr, almost, and he runs his eyes sensually along what he can see of Rathien's shoulder. "Mmm. Just where to sink them." At the mention of Thienal, the noise turns to almost a snarl. "One can only hope," he mutters darkly. "That little weasel."
He pushes himself to his feet, smirking, his ears burning even more as he realizes how effectively Rathien has just played his emotions. Nobody's ever been able to push his buttons quite like Rathien has. It's a lot of the Ildari's appeal.
He sighs. How, after a near-stabbing, is it still this hard to peel himself away from Rathien? "Excuse me for a bit, guys," he says, and strides purposefully towards Al.
"Oh!" says Al brightly, grinning. "I'm an artificial construct. A being built by others. A collection of moving parts kept alive by the Pemalite equivalent of electricity and clockwork." His tone is casual, as if he were merely discussing the weather. "What you see isn't the real me. There's not an organic bone in this body. I can project light and force so that I look and feel like a person, but my real body is underneath this."
He holds out his arm for William to see and dims the hologram until it becomes transparent. Underneath, his robotic arm is clearly visible-- the combination of metal and white plastic, the strange, alien, almost doglike shape.
"Hey," says Salem, walking up to him.
"Hey!" Al says happily, grabbing Salem's arm and pulling him close. "Let me introduce you to my friends. This is..."
"Al, later," Salem says tolerantly. He glances at Jeffrey and William as he tries, unsuccessfully, to escape Al's embrace. "Did you see where Myitt went?"
"Outside," Al replies. "Looked a little green."
"Thanks," says Salem, pushing Al away and stepping towards the door.
"Salem," says Al, grabbing Salem's arm and speaking in an exaggeratedly friendly voice, "If you take advantage of her drunkenness to turn her towards the forces of darkness I will plant my robot boot so far up your ass you'll be sneezing metal shavings for a month." When Salem frowns at him quizzically, Al smiles sweetly and flutters his eyelashes.
As Salem stomps towards the door, at a loss for words, Al turns back to William and Jeffrey. "Sorry, don't mind him. He's had a rough week. He's normally much friendlier." He catches sight of his arm and laughs. "Oops!" he says, shaking his wrist and turning the arm back to full opacity.
"Barkeep!" he says, catching the bartender's eye, "Chocolate milk for the redhead there." He tries to catch her eye and gesture towards a nearby stool.
-
Ossanlin scans Jorek's human features impassively. <I'm perfectly content with my water for now, thank you.> He sips a bit more through his hoof as if to make a point. <You don't want anything. Really.> Ossanlin's tone is cynical. <Why in the four moons would a loyal Imperial walk within tail-strike range of a conscious military Andalite? Do you have a death-wish?>
Ossanlin watches the other Andalite approach and falls silent. He seems young and uncomfortable. A quick scan upon closer consideration shows the young Andalite has no utility belt and thus no weapon, badge, or communicator. Ossanlin commands his ARC to scan Forlin, though the projection over his right eye is no help at all. The young Andalite has no active file. He'd have to interface with the Tyrennian's computer later and search his name for matches. <Greetings. I'm...>, he pauses for a quick glance at Jorek before continuing, <...War-Prince Ossanlin-Rethin-Sephirel, Captain of the Dome Ship Tyrennian.> He falls silent as he listens to the exchange between Jorek and the newcomer. Forlin seems very strange for an Andalite. Not only does he seem to share Ossanlin's open-mindedness (wholly uncommon for his race), he's actively engaging a loyal Imperial Yeerk in conversation. His general mannerisms and overall bearing seem to be very odd for an Andalite as well. Combined with the lack of an active file and the lack of any sort of combat supplies, Ossanlin's left wondering how this particular Andalite has ended up out in the farthest corner of the Galaxy.
-
"Just a suggestion," Keshin remarks, as Salem gives Keshin his spiel about bounty hunters. Keshin's eyes widen in surprise as Rathien throws his knife directly behind Salem's head. Joanne's sharp eyes are the only reason he even caught that Rathien wasn't aiming for Salem's head. Keshin shoots Rathien a dirty "Do you think that's ****ing funny?" look, but he doubted the other bounty hunter would pay any attention to him whatsoever.
Salem then leaves the group. Keshin follows the direction that Salem was going in--- Towards his possible assailant, Al, and the pirate--- And shudders. Whatever those three could potentially concoct together would not be good for anyone. Hopefully Salem can keep Al in line, but Keshin sincerely doubts that one.
<<I don't think the entire Andalite navy could keep Al from doing whatever he wants, Kess.>> She was right.
After Salem leaves, Keshin eyes Rathien with a somewhat dry, irritated expression. "Could you try for five seconds to not pester people in your threatening way, or is it just in your nature? Like a compulsion. Because you were five seconds away from murdering half the Bar." Keshin takes in a deep breath and another sip of drink--- Frankly with the feral man, he'd need it--- And says, "With that said...are you in on this thing of Salem's, or out? Did you hear enough to get the gist of it? I may think you're crazy, but you're crazy and good. And Salem needs all the help he can get. I don't doubt that the fate of the Yeerk-Andalite War is irrelevant to you...but it might impact the bottom line of a lot of people. Including me. It might be worth your while to help him, as well."
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The Bartender briefly faces Jeffrey with his monotonous stare and slides a drink over at him. Jeffrey catches it with one hand and sips it. He smirks as Al goes off on a tangent about the Bartender's complete lack of a name. "Might as well call him El Psy Kangaroo and be done with it," says Jeffrey, shrugging. "You never know with these magic freak types."
Jeffrey watches with some interest as Al identifies every person he knew in the Bar at a rapid-fire pace. There were a couple people that Al clearly wasn't familiar with--- That strange red-headed girl and the new Andalite that had just wandered in. Jeffrey stares for several straight minutes at the bright red of the girl's hair and the green of her eyes. He couldn't help but be reminded of his own daughter. He smiles slightly at her, unable to stop himself, and then turns back to Al.
"Sorry, I'm fond of gingers," he says to Al. Salem comes by, exchanges a few words with Al, and then leaves. Jeffrey rolls his eyes. "What do you suppose got up his butthole? I gather that the pessimist Yeerk's a friend of yours, but still."
-
For all intents and purposes," Sorin says, his gaze shifting around the room, "yeah, we'll say I'm human. I have a feeling that'd make things less complicated, at least." He gives each of the Andalites in the room a nervous glance. "I guess it wouldn't be too dangerous to say that I'm here to pick up some ship parts."
"So you're a Yeerk, correct?" He lowers his voice a little. "If I may ask, what's your alliance? It'd be useful to know whether you have reason to kill me or not."
Guppy takes Myitt's hand and stands up with her. "Won't hurt to ask around, right?" He thoughtfully gnaws at his lip. "I can probably do the talking, if you want. What exactly are we gonna need?"
-
Rathien turns his head to glance at Keshin out of the corner of his eye and smirks. Once again, it's not a terribly nice smirk. He slowly slides out of the booth, whipping his left hand toward his knife on the floor. He jerks the hand back a bit and the knife flies up off the floor and into his hand. He quickly stows it back in his sleeve and slides into the booth in front of Keshin. It would take a keen eye to have noticed the strong tensile filament that the Ildari had used as a sort of whip to grab the knife with.
He sighs, shaking his head a bit, point ponytail swaying a bit with the motion. "I thought you were more-intuitive than that, my dear Keshin. I've never once been close to murdering half the bar. I considered it once, I'll admit...just to get rid of him a long time ago." He jerks his thumb in Salem's direction before continuing. "But I hate collateral damage. I covet precision and finesse. But a lover's spat is what it is, I'm sure you're aware." He pauses, running his tongue over a fang in thought before continuing. "I don't prize money, Yeerk. The money is just a way to keep myself alive. What I prize is difficulty. The best hunts are the hardest ones, regardless of payout. The harder the hunt, the better the release when you pull it off. Especially if that death if arbitrated by Fate." Rathien closes his eyes for a moment as if savoring something before opening them again. "If anyone's going to kill that ****, it's going to be me. So I suppose I'll have to keep him alive for now, regardless of his own death-wish of a plan." He shrugs lazily.
-
It seemed the andalite who'd triggered her mini panic attack hadn't stuck around long enough to hear her explanation when she'd finally come out of it. It appeared his interest had been drawn to another of his own kind. Leona simply shrugged it off, she preferred to go unnoticed anyhow. With so many trigger words floating in the air the redhead felt almost dizzy trying to pin down who was saying what. A quick chug of the liquor she'd ordered was given in an attempt to calm her nerves. The talk of yeerk and controllers she did her best to casually ignore, but when she heard voices saying things like 'redhead' and 'ginger' the panic she'd been fighting flooded Leona with renewed force.
They're talkin abou' me! They know! No, there's no way. Anyone who would recognize me is dead... Mostly. They don' know, there's no way they could know. Can' go back... Would rather die... They won' take me alive! Those emerald eyes darted about the bar in search of who'd spoken the nickname she'd come to find synonymous with her hair color. Did they know who she was? Or rather, who'd once been in her head? As the panic began to boil over her right hand moved to instinctively rest on the dracon beam hidden in the large pocket of her hoody.
Fearing what she might do if she snapped completely Leona abruptly shoved herself away from the bar as a chocolate milk was brought her way. In her rush Leona practically fell off the bar stool, knocking it over as she stumbled to stay on her feet. Panicked green eyes looked for an opening, choosing flight over fight, the panicking human rushed through the first door she found. Finding herself in the bathroom, she didn't care which gender it was for, Leona took several slow deep breaths with her back firmly pressed against the door. Slowly forcing herself to release the death grip on her dracon beam, Leona realized just how badly her hands were shaking as she withdrew them from her pockets.
-
Keshin watches as something moved out of the corner of his eye and the knife Rathien threw is suddenly back in the Ildari's hand. Keshin stares quizzically for a few minutes. <<Did you catch that?>>
<<Kess, don't be stupid. I saw the exact same ruddy thing you did. Too fast. Seems this ****'s bag of tricks goes all the way to the bottom.>>
Keshin listens to Rathien's baffling rant about hunting, and skill, and Fate. It sounded just as odd as it ever did to him. "And that is why we will never be buddies, Rath," says Keshin, spinning a finger around his ear. "Killing people isn't a thing that should ever come off as a thrill. It's a job. A job we are both good at, but a job. Unless you're my host, in which case you lost touch with normal people back in 1998."
<<Don't knock it if you haven't tried it.>>
"As for including yourself in the venture..." Keshin gives Rathien an awkward look of tacit approval. "Thank you, I suppose. Although even if it were possible, I doubt I would try to kill the person I love most." A faint, wistful smile crosses Joanne's face at this thought.
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Jeffrey peers over to the side as the young ginger that he was watching tenses up and nearly chokes on fear. She darts towards the men's bathroom and runs right inside. Jeffrey's lips curve down into a frown. Little lady isn't watching where she's going. Wonder what set her off.
Jeffrey stands up suddenly and puts a hand on the bar, looking over at Al. "Uh, sorry mate but something's bothering me," he says, jerking a thumb in the direction she'd gone. "Shouldn't take me more than a couple minutes."
Jeffrey walks at a brisk pace towards the bathroom and then raps gently on the door. "Hey honey, are you okay? Nobody's going to hurt you in this dump, I'm sure. I know a freak out when I see one. My girl had 'em all the time. I'm a friend to people like you, hon." Jeffrey's eyes glow yellow with the use of his powers, but his expression is all concerned parent instead of giggling maniac. She was someone's daughter, somewhere, right? That had to be why he cared.
-
Rathien's expression suddenly goes dark and dangerous as he looks straight at Joanne's eyes. "You don't know what happened." All the frivolity and lasciviousness now absent from his tone. Anyone who knew anything about him would know this was how he got moments before executing a kill. "You don't trust people any more than I do, but when the person you let in betrays that rare trust, it has consequences...espe cially if you're a murdering bastard."
The throwing-knives are back in Rathien's hands again in the blink of an eye. "So I advise you not to dig where you're not wanted, lest you find yourself sucker-shot and dumped on a planetoid in the middle of nowhere without warning or reason by the 'person you love most.'"
-
Slow steady breaths, one after another Leona forced her focus on just breathing. Her heart rate was finally starting to slow, and her head clearing enough to think straight. Just as she was starting to feel moderately sane again, a soft knocking on the door behind her caused the young redhead to jump with a startled squeal. Though her heart was instantly racing again, the kind words from the other side of the door prevented another full on panic attack. Though she couldn't put her finger on exactly why, Leona found the stranger's voice oddly reassuring. It was an uncomfortable sensation to say the least, especially for someone who typically trusted none of what she heard, and only half of what she saw.
"People like me don' have friends..." She muttered to herself as though it were a profound truth she couldn't allow herself to forget, regardless of what anyone said. She was beginning to feel more comfortable though, comfortable enough to notice the urinals on the far wall. "**** my life." She sighed under her breath. Even if she ignored the man on the other side till he went away, someone was going to find her in the men's room sooner or later.
Finally the door opened, the young women taking only a second to look over the stranger on the other side. "I'm fine." She insisted a bit too quickly. "And in the wrong bathroom..." She added, pointing it out before anyone else could.
-
"Are you threatening me?" says Keshin, raising an eyebrow. He smiles very slightly. "Over a minor comment about your trader? Really? You know it wouldn't be worth either of our time to do so. It would just incite more chaos to no end, and one or two of us might die. And in my case..."
Keshin shakes his head. "I can't kill the person I love most, regardless, and it wouldn't be in my favor to do so. You're right--- I don't know what happened between you and him. In fact I never will be able to."
Keshin stands up and says, "I'm going to go do something while Salem's distracted. If you feel like it, let me know when he comes back." Now was the time to deal with the other issue on both of their minds...Ossanlin. Ossanlin and his proposition. He had turned it over multiple times since the Andalite had spoken, and he still couldn't understand what the War-Prince had been talking about. He had acted like they had...known one another in some greater fashion. Yet the only interactions they had ever had had been in violence, even counting the most recent. And yet he had offered to do something they had longed for since the moment they had received the burden of Joanne's disease. Nothing about this made any sense.
<<But we're in agreement then? If Ossanlin could really do it, than we want him to? ...that damn blue box could be our only chance. I'm...I'm so scared of losing myself, though. Turning into someone else!>>
Keshin's thought voice was soft and full of reassurance. <<...I know. But if he says that won't happen if we nothlitize as another person ...I think that we can trust him. On that, at least. I've been thinking about it.>> Keshin didn't want to admit that something about his vertigo earlier had actually been what changed his mind. He was glad, and not for the first time, that only the Yeerk could read the human's mind and not vice versa most of the time.
Keshin walks with some trepidation up to where Ossanlin is in the Bar. He ****s his head in surprise when he sees that Ossanlin is engaging with...what has to be an Imperial Yeerk. Although he didn't look thrilled with that, as expected. "Talk about an unusual pairing," says Keshin as he saunters into view, smiling slightly. "I do wonder what the occasion is. With that said..."
Keshin meets Ossanlin's main eyes directly, with a serious and forward expression entirely unlike the one he had a few seconds ago. "...that thing you wanted to try to do? ...I think we might be open to it, but we need to talk about it. Do you have a moment, or should we come back at a better time?" Keshin glances slightly over at the young Andalite who had arrived. After all, it was rare that an Andalite frequented the Bar.
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Jeffrey smiles at the young woman that he sees. She looked stressed, but she had the same kind of beauty and life to her that he saw in his own daughter. He had to wonder what could have set her off. The place actually seemed less screwed up than it was before. "That you are--- But you don't seem fine to me. Not one bit honey. Why don't you tell old Jeffrey what's bothering you? He doesn't bite."
-
William's eyes widen when the hologram drops, and he finds himself staring at Al's arm long after it reappears. His first reaction is horror, but it's quickly ushered out by fascination, and he leans in, inspecting the apendage. "You're entirely mechanical!" he exclaims. "Why...you must have cost a fortune. How are you capable of intelligent thought?"
Dalik laughs. "So not human, or at least not entirely human, but you don't want to elaborate," she surmises. "Fair enough. This doesn't seem to be the sort of place where people reveal too much about themselves."
She pauses before answering his second question, ****ing her head as she considers him. "Do you always ask Yeerks their alliance expecting a straight answer?" she asks. "Choose your answer, 'human'. I could tell you I'm a faithful servant of our Emperor, helping him succeed. I could tell you I despise our Empire and want to see it destroyed. Or I could say I'm a free agent, with little interest in alliances." Her faint smile broadens. "Or I could confuse you entirely and tell you all three are true."
Shrugging, she waves a hand to catch the bartender's attention. "Regardless, I have little interest in hurting you. I'm not here to kill anyone."
-
Jorek grips Forlin's hand, and he only releases the Andalite's grasp when Forlin mentions his human host.
He simply smiles at Forlin and doesn't deign to answer.
To Ossanlin he turns his attention and replies, "No, quite the contrary, War-Prince Ossanlin. I very much enjoy being alive. Does it surprise you that I want to engage in cautious, but friendly conversation?"
Jorek bounces lightly on his heels, like a giddy child, the knowing smile still plastered on his face.
"Of all the things I could want from people in this bar, I certainly wouldn't be so bold as to go begging from an Andalite, not least of which one who is held in such high renown. In the Andalite military, and in the Yeerk Empire." At this, he glances down at his fingernails idly, digging dirt from under one.
Myitt gazes blearily around the shipyard, wiping at her eyes.
"We're going to need metal," she murmurs, letting go of Guppy to inspect the closest hull of a ship.
As far as what else they might need, she is silent, running her hands along the cold metal of an abandoned Bug fighter.
Then, "Hey, Guppy, over here. We need to tear a hole in this ship." The grin in her tone of voice is all too obvious.
At Dalik's mention of the Yeerk Empire, Jorek glances curiously at his host, Cameron. Eyes narrowing briefly. Lips twitching into a shadow of a frown.
Then he is all smiles again, beaming at Ossanlin and Forlin in turn.
-
<An honour to meet you, sir,> Forlin says. He isn’t sure how to act around a War-Prince, though he assumes it is a very high rank. He catches bits and pieces of the conversations around him. There are many Yeerks among them. As for the red-haired girl, she’d fled for the bathroom; either she was ill or uncomfortable. He wonders about her and is concerned, but it’s out of his hands and is none of his business.
The Controller does not answer his question. Avoiding it, no doubt. Forlin narrows his eyes slightly.
<I came here from Earth,> Forlin adds, addressing Jorek and Ossanlin. <An abandoned shack led me to this place. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.>
-
Ossanlin gives Jorek a matter-of-fact look. <It would surprise me if that's what you wanted. But it's not what you want...to be frank, I've no idea what you wish accomplish with this, though I can all but guarantee I'll not want anything to do with it.>
He favors Forlin with a look from his main eyes. One of puzzlement more than anything. <Earth? I wasn't aware of any of our people being stationed to Earth. In fact I wasn't aware that the Electorate had disseminated the location and identity of the Human homeworld publicly.> He pauses, narrowing his eyes. <A shack...do you mean to say you didn't arrive here in a Tail Fighter or another like vess...>
Ossanlin pauses his speech as Keshin walks up and starts speaking himself. <I...> He glances at Jorek and then Forlin. <I suppose...your company is satisfactory. But my present...> He darts his main eyes at Jorek before returning them to Keshin. <...acquaintances would certainly limit the scope and field of our conversation.>
* * *
Rathien chokes a bit in the back of his throat and arches an eyebrow in disbelief as his explanation either sails right over the other bounty hunter's head, or the other simply had not deigned to answer. He'd just told Keshin exactly what Salem had done to him...and he apparently hadn't caught that. Without further preamble, the other hunter walks away, saying he could alert him if Salem returned...like some kind of errand-boy!
His throwing knives disappear back up his sleeves and he slaps a hand on the table, almost laughing with the insanity of it all. What the hell had happened to him? What had his life truly become? This was all beyond nuts.
-
Forlin gave a shrug. <I haven't encountered any other Andalites on Earth,> he replied. <I crashed there. I don't remember much of anything, before the crash. I only recently learned about the Yeerks as well...>
He turns a stalk-eye to the human (or human-Controller). He would have suggested private thought-speak, but humans don't have thought-speak. <<I could keep him busy,>> he suggests to the War-Prince.
-
Leona's emerald eyes studied the man before her in a way that suggested she didn't trust him in the least. But then again she looked at most everyone that way. However, despite her feelings of distrust, and knowing it to be out of her own nature, Leona felt strangely compelled to tell... Jeffery was it? What he was asking. Of it wasn't like being completely one hundred percent controlled. Maybe that's why she didn't detect the manipulation right away, but something defiantly still felt off.
"I Uhh..." Leona stuttered at the question, more shocked at her own willingness to answer then the request. "Yeerks..." She said hesitantly, as if the word might somehow draw their attention to her if she uttered it too loud. "I can' go back!" She chocked out, just admitting to what was seeming to upset her all over again. Fortunately Leona had the advantage of very few hosts and yeerks who might recognize her still being alive. Still though, there were a few yeerk here and there who'd transferred off the host breeding station before it's destruction that might recognize the former host. It was enough of a worry that the redhead began to sink back away from the bathroom door as if she were going to hide again, or maybe jump out a window.
-
As the redhead sprints away from the chocolate milk that the bartender sets before her, Al does a pitch-perfect Groucho Marx impression. "I've heard of lactose intolerance, but this is ridiculous!"
He watches Jeffrey approach the closed bathroom door and frowns. "I think we should probably keep an eye on Mister Evil over there," he says, half to William and half to himself. "Not sure he's the best calming influence around here."
Al sighs, shakes his head, and turns back to William with a smile. "I did cost a fortune, actually!" he laughs. "Very expensive! Not that I let that go to my head." He pretentiously examines his fingernails over the tip of his nose. "I find the company of the plebeian robots to be... quite... riveting..." he giggles and drops the act.
"As it turns out, the human brain," he puts a finger to William's forehead, "is just a remarkably complex network of electrochemical parts. Every thought and emotion and memory in human's head is the product of a measurable physical change. It's all very dry, science stuff that tends to reduce the beauty of existence to cold, hard numbers, but I find it fascinating. All the more beautiful that all of perception and imagination can arise from such basic, infinitesimal building blocks." He laughs.
"Anyway, the point is, if a system is complex enough, intelligence can arise and be held within it. This body's brain," he points at his own forehead, "holds a microscopic and immeasurably complicated array of components, arranged in such a way that..." he smiles warmly, "an incredibly odd individual can fit comfortably inside."
Salem steps outside, still frowning, head spinning slightly. Between Keshin, and Rathien, and Al's stupid comment...
He leans against the wall next to the door and closes his eyes. He's so tired. So, so weary, down in his very bones. And somehow, since he found out about... since he found out, nothing has seemed right. Running at a million miles an hour through a world that's slowly falling over sideways...
After a few moments, and a few steadying breaths, he looks around. He can hear voices coming from nearby. It doesn't take him long to spot Myitt and Guppy.
"Hey!" he says, putting on a smile and ambling towards them. "Myitt! It's been a while. Do, uh..." He swallows. "Do you have a few minutes? I... I wanted to talk to you about something."
-
Keshin looks between Jorek and Forlin and nods uncomfortably, putting Joanne's hand in the pocket of her jumpsuit. "You're right. We wouldn't be able to discuss everything we'd like to," he says. "Let me know in private when you have a moment." Keshin glances quizzically at Jorek, trying to place whether they've ever seen this particular Imperial before he entered the Bar talking about a mysterious bounty job. And he can't say that he has.
<<I mean it's possible we've just forgotten the bloke, Kess.>>
<<Yeah...But he seems pretty memorable. Talking to any person that catches his fancy as if there are no sides to this war at all.>>
Keshin's attention then turns to Forlin. "Interesting to see another Andalite in the Bar besides Ossanlin. Good day to you."
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"Yeerks?" says Jeffrey, trying to hold back the amusement crossing into his face. But he can't, and he laughs. "Oh honey, you haven't got nothing to be afraid of with the tapeworms in this dive! They couldn't be a threat if their lives depended on it! I convinced one to try and off their friend and at the time I didn't even have control of my own body!" Jeffrey continues giggling, holding his side. His voice echoes with some kind of reverb to it when he laughs, from Leona's perspective, like a broken stereo. "I'm...I'm sorry, it's just..."
"But seriously." Jeffrey holds out his hand and smiles much more genuinely. "I don't think these guys are the same Yeerks you're scared of going back to. Like, I think..." Jeffrey pauses, putting a hand under his chin. "...yeah. One of them said they were rebels against the Empire or something. Another one said she was a hacker. Unless you specifically pissed one of 'em off, I think what you've got there are free agents. You got me? You wanna come out and relax?"
The girl was so off-balance he could probably make her do it, but that...that didn't seem right to him, with this one.
-
William flinches when Al touches his forehead, reaching up to rub at the spot, frowning through the explanation. "The human brain is complex," he allows slowly. "But it isn't the only source of perception and imagination. As...I suppose you, yourself, are a living example of. Or perhaps not quite living. How interesting..."
William paces slowly around Al, sizing him up in an entirely new light. "I wonder...if you are entirely artificial, can you die? How are you powered? Surely not by steam. Is it--no, nevermind." He waves a hand, dismissing the slew of questions. "The details aren't important. You are, clearly, from a place where technology exists that I have no knowledge of. I'm not about to waste time learning every intricate detail. The fact that it works...well, that is entirely enough."
He comes back around to face Al, tilting his head and nodding slowly. "How would I go about purchasing one of you?"
-
"Simple conversation," Jorek comments to Ossanlin, but before he can get much further, his grin stalls.
He listens as the War-Prince discusses Forlin's presence on Earth. On Earth? Surely there had been rumors, but...
Jorek sets down his drink completely as Keshin arrives.
"By all means, don't let me ruin your plans," he tells Keshin and Ossanlin airily. "By the Kandrona itself, can't a fellow say 'hi' around here?"
Then giddy, boyish grin returns, as if he has every reason to be amused with himself.
Myitt has her ear pressed against the ship's hull, listening intently.
She holds up a finger to silence Salem.
"This is still alive," she tells him, signaling to Guppy, then remembering with a muttered, "ah, ****. Guppy, come over here. I promise I won't throw up on you."
To Salem she turns her exasperated attention and looks him up and down, appraising, squinting at him. She sucks on her teeth.
"Can it wait? Salem, kid, we left off on weird terms, I'm not in my right mind, and I'm building him some eyeballs." Again she gestures vaguely in Guppy's direction.
Hands on her hips, she looks back at Salem, with all the patience of a New York cab driver. "What? What is it you want?"
-
Guppy hesitantly walks over in the direction of Myitt's voice. "Yeah, I'm comin'," he says. He stops a few feet away from Myitt, unsure of whether or not he's about to run into her. "What'cha mean, it's still alive? This thing won't swallow us whole, will it?" Without turning around, he starts speaking a bit louder. "Salem, right? Sorry, but I'm thinkin' Myitt's a little tied up at the moment. You think you can hang tight for a bit?" He walks forward with his arm outstretched until his fingers brush up against the hull of the ship. "I think I found the thing. Whaddaya want me to do here?"
Sorin nods slowly, a small grin fixed on his face. "I guess that's fair. I'm not very politics-savvy as it is, to tell the truth. Not too many Yeerks out in my neck of the woods anymore." He leans over to Dalik and lowers his voice a little. "But there are more than enough bounty hunters. And that makes things . . . well, interesting, I guess."
Letting out a chuckle, Sorin leans back and plays with the straw in his drink. "You've seen the old Tom and Jerry cartoons, right?" His eyes light up as another simile pops into his head. "Actually, better yet, you ever play that one computer game, Rodent's Revenge, or something like that? Where you play as a mouse, and you're supposed to trap the cats? It's a little like that." He stops playing with his straw and his gaze becomes more focused.
"Apologies. I'm sure this sounds a little strange. Truth is, I don't get out much at all, and I can't say I have many friends, so my conversations may tend to delineate. What were we talking about?"
-
She pauses in her glare at Salem.
"No, no, it's living metal," Myitt explains, stepping forward for a moment, touching Guppy's arm. "Right here, my man. We're going to need to take a chunk of this hull off. You just, uh, sit tight until I get something useful. Like a...a blowtorch."
A grin lights up her face.
Then she turns her attention back to Salem, setting her hands on her hips again. "Sorry. You were going to tell me something wicked important or whatever? Spill it, kid."
-
Al waits, patient and apparently entirely comfortable, as William circles him, sizing him up. He chuckles and gives William a sidelong glance. "Wow. That's... actually kind of refreshing, in a way. Most humans... at least that I'm used to dealing with... completely revile the idea of owning another sentient being. It's a driving belief behind a lot of the war with the Yeerks, imperfect an analog it may be. In fact, both my mind and my body were designed, in separate instances, with my freedom and companionship as core design components. But you," he grins, "you're not concerned with any of that. Lack of grounding in human morality that comes of being a ghost, is it?" He tilts his head. "Or do you prefer poltergeist?"
He sighs. "Unfortunately, I don't have the foggiest idea how you'd go about acquiring one of me. The technology that makes me... me... all comes from times and places I haven't had access to in many years. And I don't think anyone from my current universe has advanced to this point quite yet in the fields necessary to build a me." He pauses, grins, and repeats, this time in an exaggerated Italian accent complete with hand gestures, "They can't a-build a-me!" He laughs.
He narrows his eyes at William, though somehow his expression remains playful. "So tell me, what interest would a ghost pirate have in a robot companion, anyway? Because certain portions of my technology are much easier to come by than others."
Salem cracks a small smile when Myitt calls him 'kid.' Of everyone on this little planetoid, as far as he knows, she's probably one of the few who could say that to him legitimately. He sighs and shoots Guppy a brief, annoyed glance, but his curiosity gets the better of him. 'Building him some eyeballs?' This he has to see.
He waves a hand dismissively towards Myitt. "Rebel business. Fate of the galaxy. It can wait. Let me help you with this. I've actually got a torch handy." Without another word, he spins on his heel and jogs towards his nearby ship, which lowers the ramp to the ground just as Salem reaches the bottom of it. He walks inside, and after a few seconds, there's the clatter and crash of a falling pile of mostly-metal pieces of something-or-other. The crash is followed by a brief but energetic string of curse words.
A few seconds later Salem stumps back down the ramp, straining under the weight of a dual oxygen-acetylene tank under his right arm, connected by a hose to a torch that he carries in his left. It's old; it may once have been red, but most of the paint has long since been chipped and scratched away, and it's covered in more than its fair share of dents and dings. Draped over the two tanks are a worn pair of thick leather gloves, a dark orange apron of some shimmery, silken-looking material, and a worn old welder's face mask sporting a very distinctive gouge that looks like someone tried to hack it diagonally in two with some kind of sword or axe.
"Here," he says, dropping the thing in the dirt near Myitt with a dull thud. "Hopefully it's hot enough."
-
"Turelek can make anyone uneasy," Dalik allows, using the Yeerkish word for bounty hunter. "And you're not the only one here with a price on their head, I can guarantee you that." She glances over her shoulder. "Those two," she says, picking Keshin and Rathien out of the crowd with a gesture, "are the only two assassins I know of here. Stay clear of them if you're worried."
Tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear, she smiles at Sorin. "If you're hoping to have a coherent conversation, you may be talking up the wrong Yeerk. I don't get out much myself. In fact, this is the most socialization I've had in three generations."
William flashes Al a grin. "Freedom is a subjective concept," he says simply. "As is ownership. I find most of those with such moral scruples have little grounding in the realities of the world." Rocking back on his heels, he reaches for his ale.
"I'm not a ghost," he murmurs after a long gulp. "I'm grigori. We're only incorporeal when we transition from our home to a human form. William may have been dead, once, but he's entirely living now, I promise you." His eyes flicker around the bar, taking in the various groups that have broken out. His gaze lingers on the two Andalites, though with none of the initial surprise at seeing them. Amazing, he thinks to himself, how quickly one becomes used to such obvious shifts in reality.
"As for a 'robot companion', I can think of a number of uses," William says. "Not the least of which is someone to help me evade my supervisors." He tilts his head, looking at Al's arm once again. "Can you alter your appearance?"
-
For a moment it looked as though the redhead had finally relaxed. She looked more at ease as she considered Jeffrey's words. Just when it seemed she was coming around the logical left brain kicked emotional, and more easily manipulated, right brain in it's metaphorical ass. "Haven' got nothin..." She repeated as her green eyes narrowed and her tone soured. "You realize two negatives make ah positive. Tha' suppose to be some covert way of sayin I do have somethin to be afraid of?" Not waiting for an answer Leona moved brush past Jeffrey, trying to leave the bathroom she'd cornered herself in. "And they're all parasites, regardless of wha' they say." She added bitterly.
-
Ossanlin's eyes flash iridescent silver for a moment and he snaps all four shut, suddenly grimacing. If he had teeth, he'd be gritting them. He manages to stave off the episode through sheer force of will...he'd have to leave if this kept happening. The thought of vacating the GESB permanently bothers him more than he expects. Finally he opens his eyes again, main eyes locking on Jorek as he sends a private thought to Joanne and Keshin.
<<I clearly remember the entire procedure. I also remember some other very interesting things. Things that could sway the balance of everything. If you truly want to go through with the procedure, I can piece together a perfect replica of Joanne's DNA, correct the faulty sequence, and place that pattern in you as a morph. You could then morph Joanne's own body and nothlitize yourself.>> He doesn't mention that he could also "home" that new pattern after she'd nothlitized which could allow her to reacquire the morphing technology and be able to morph with the repaired DNA Joanne as her "real" body. He also doesn't mention that Keshin himself could acquire the morphing tech, perform a frolis of acceptable male human candidates, and become human himself...
He moves his other stalk-eye to regard Forlin. <<Perhaps in a bit, Warrior. I appreciate the offer, but your situation requires further scrutiny. The matter of how you ended up on the Human Homeworld for example.>> He leaves that hang. If the young Andalite had been off-planet, he would've been in the military. Unless, of course, he's from some other timeline or reality altogether. Such things were certainly possible in this place.
Finally he speaks openly to Jorek. <You want idle conversation...I see.> He arches a main eye. <Are you a member of the Light then? Digging for information? Hoping a few drinks will loosen my mind and I'll let something slip? I'm not going to give you any crucial information, Imperial. Not even indirectly.>
-
Al waves a hand dismissively. "Eh. Little grounding in your world, maybe, grigori." He grins and draws out the word grigori in an excessively, though not-quite-mockingly affectionate way, even as he not-quite-mockingly-flirtatiously rests a finger against William's chest. "Since we're getting all philosophical, morality is a product of perception, not reality." He looks into William's eyes with concern. "You sound as though you may be just a bit jaded, William," he says, in his best 'Frasier Crane proffering psychiatric advice' voice. "Perhaps you could benefit from a companion... no, from a... friend like me in more ways than you realize."
He drops the affectation and laughs. "I knew I wasn't wrong about the zombie thing! You're like a spirit Yeerk for undead hosts, aren't you? Oh," he says offhandedly, "in my time, 'zombie' is a term used to refer to a reanimated corpse. So tell me, is the real William still in there, similar to the way Joanne's still in there?" he asks, pointing conspicuously at the bounty hunter. "Or is William's revived meat sack merely a vessel for your increasingly-sinister personality, sort of like my own tin can here?" He raps on his forehead, which somehow echoes metallically as if he'd kicked the side of a dumpster.
"I can alter my appearance actually," he says, grinning. A tiny red feather appears from behind the band of his bowler cap, and continues to lengthen steadily as he speaks. "It's actually one of my favorite features of this body, and one of the reasons I prefer it over the other forms I've tried, most of the time." He laughs and plucks the feather from his cap- it's now grown to nearly two feet long-- and offers it to William. Before William can reach for it, however, it disappears in a brief, brilliant shower of sparks.
"So what's the story with these supervisors of yours, anyway?" he asks. "They sound like real..." he pauses as he accesses an appropriate insult, "...foozlers. But then," he laughs and lightly punches William's shoulder, "what boss isn't, amirite?"
-
Forlin fiddled with a tuft of fur on his chest, as he was oft to do. He was feeling cramped and claustrophobic, but it was nothing he was unused to. He lived on Earth, after all, and thus he spent a lot of time indoors. And small spaces were pretty much mandatory when he ventured out into the world in human morph, as he was oft to do. The newcomer, a human female, turned to Forlin, and greeted him. <And to you, as well,> he said, offering his hand for a shake. <I’m Forlin-Langor-Chulain. You can call me Forlin. And you are…?>
He also had a stalk-eye trained on Ossanlin, even as Forlin was facing the woman. He noticed the other Andalite closing his eyes and grimacing. <<Are you okay, War-Prince Ossanlin?>> he queried in private. The War-Prince had called him a Warrior…though he wasn’t sure that he held that rank. He had been quite young when he had crashed. <<I don’t know. Is there any way that suppressed memories can be retrieved?>>
He did not want them to him away from his home, though, if that was what they’d do. Forlin felt that Earth was where he belonged. Even as intriguing as going into space might be.
The other human—well, human-Controller (though Forlin had no way of knowing whether or not the newcomer was one too)—seemed annoyed at the interruption. Not that Forlin exactly cared what this Imperial Yeerk thought. <What is the Light?> Forlin blurted when Ossanlin spoke to Jorek. He was, actually, fascinated with Yeerks…or with anything alien, really. And he didn’t think he’d get another chance to ask an Imperial Yeerk first-hand about his kind. But what could he asked?
-
Keshin watches, a bit startled, as Ossanlin seems to struggle with something within himself. "Are you---" Keshin starts, but then doesn't finish. The War-Prince had been through his fair share of terrible scrapes-- The most notable one even involved them---- and come out fine. More or less. Keshin shakes his head and waits.
When Ossanlin speaks again, Keshin feels the world fall out from under them. Joanne's eyes widen. The shock of what Ossanlin was saying was possible was rolling up and down his body like an out of control freight train of thought and emotion. It wasn't so much that the Escafil device could do the deed in and of itself that was surprising--- It was the idea that the solution was so easy. So within reach. That all they had to do to be free of the price that their lives had cost was to ask. <<How many years, Joanne, have we hunted and scraped by in order to live one more day? How many Yeerk research facilities and medical centers on how many ships have we searched for anything even resembling a way towards a cure? And now...it's just right here. All of that...meant nothing.>> Keshin swallows.
<<....I know how you feel. And I'm not trusting this guy just...for the hell of it. If he pulls anything on us, some half-assed revenge, I'm ready to shoot. But this could be...our only shot. Maybe when he leaves the planet for whatever it is this guy does--->> Keshin frowns as a sudden wave of interest and concern about that hits him, but shakes it off. <<...he'll decide against it later and then the window's gone.>> Joanne's thought voice seems to return to his mind as soon as he refocuses on the present.
"I...We're thinking it over, and we are...inclined to do it," Keshin says, slowly and tentatively, his voice faltering at several points. "If it is indeed still open." He continues to focus on Ossanlin, but gives a nod to Forlin.
"Keshin Eight-One-Seven," he says, making up a random number on the spot. "And the host I'm in is Joanne. Together we are Static Shock, and you might say we're in the running for the world's dumbest and most superhero-inspired bounty hunter name. Joanne liked those comics as a kid."
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Jeffrey tries grabbing Leona's arm and holding her there. He's not sure how strong she is, but it's worth a shot. "Now don't you make fun of my method of speech, missy, you know what I meant. What I'm saying is don't judge a whole species by its cover and by what the fascist **** members do. Don't know why I'm defending these ****nuggets exactly..." Jeffrey rolls his eyes. "But there it is."
"What I'm more worried about is how you're feeling," he says warmly. "Okay? You looked like you were really freaked out back there. What did the ****ty fascist Yeerks do to you, exactly?"
-
Leona halted when Jeffrey grabbed her arm, though the glare she shot him suggested she wasn't happy about it. Beneath her hoody her arm felt solid, not overly muscular, but defiantly someone who took care of her self. His words didn't seem to offer the redhead much comfort, still tense in his grip. Even more concerning should have been her free hand, tucked into her pocket to grip the weapon hidden within. "Try havin one in your head for seven years..." Leona grumbled under her breath in regards to Jeffrey's 'book by it's cover' defense. Even if some did feel guilty for how they had to live, but that still didn't change how they lived. Leona was also well aware that it was probably just as wrong for her to hate them for being what they are, but concepts like right and wrong were defined by the victors of war. Therefore who was right and who was wrong had yet to be seen.
"Why should I trus' you? For all I know you migh' noh be who you say you are?" She snapped at the request to say what'd made her like this. As her temper flared hints of an old accent slipped through more and more. Softer vowels, Gs and Ts falling off the end of words. British perhaps? No it seemed somehow more relaxed then a British accent...
-
"I only had one in my head for a couple hours," says Jeffrey, still smiling. "It wasn't all that bad. Hell, it was entertaining! The little tapeworm had no idea what to do with my memories! No idea what any of them meant! I tried to explain, but I ain't exactly known for making sense. In fact..." He winked. "...I'm known for making absolutely none at all. I'd point out which one it was but..." Jeffrey glances around the bar, and then gives a look that amounts to a shrug. "...don't see her."
"As for trusting me, well...I am really trustworthy because I don't know what's going on. I don't have skin in this game or a horse in this race. The Yeerk-Andalite war is Greek to a man who comes from where I come from--- A world where humans never made first contact. And I love redheads. Please stick around, hon, and try to catch your breath." Jeffrey lets go of her arm.
"By the way, is that ****ney? Love it! People from the ancient United Kingdom used to talk like that," says Jeffrey. "The American Empire thought it made them sound smarter than the Americans. Except I think they called themselves the United States."
-
Myitt watches, staring silently the whole time, as Salem marches off and retrieves the device.
<<Rebel business,>> she remarks to Tara. <<What the hell do you think he means by that?>>
<<Dunno, man. I get the distinct impression he was being a bit passive aggressive.>>
<<But he's gone off to help us,>> Myitt frets. <<How am I supposed to interpret that? I'm no good at this people ****!>>
Her gaze is fuzzy, distracted, as the internal dialogue continues - right on up to when Salem returns.
She blinks back into focus, squinting down at the tank and the torch.
"Oh, you got my my evening wear," she says with a huge grin, clasping her hands and batting her eyes. She snickers darkly, stooping to pick up the apron and gloves.
The mask she loops onto one arm, letting the thing hang by its rubber strap.
"This is perfect," Myitt murmurs appreciatively, circling around the tank while she slips a glove onto one hand, then swaps the mask arm and tugs on the other. "You do a lot of ship salvage?"
To Guppy she says, "Check it. Salem just got us some ridiculous torch equipment. I'm gonna rip a hole in this ship so I can mold the living metal down for some frames, and the micro-cones. Trust me, it'll all make sense in a minute."
Jorek blinks at Ossanlin. He waits patiently while Ossanlin's attention appears to blip out.
"I haven't the slightest idea what the Light is," he says earnestly. He turns to the bar and orders another cola-based potable. "I assure you, Ossanlin, I'm merely curious. There's no malice whatsoever. Surely you don't believe the propaganda that we're all a bunch of vile, power-mad slugs?"
"Though," he adds, smiling pleasantly, "I'm flattered that you'd think I had enough forethought to try and goad information from you - in such a public place!" He laughs quietly. "No, no. Although, if you do know of any really spectacular bounty hunters, I would be open to your suggestions. Strictly as colleagues."
-
William jumps back a little at Al's touch, then watches in growing fascination as he performs the basic equivalent of robust series of magic tricks and sleight of hand.
"Fascinating," he murmurs. Then he clears his throat, shaking himself. "Ah...I am William. And Danel," he says, using his true name with only the briefest hesitation. "We are one and the same, and Danel was drawn to this body because of who William was in his first life. Our personalities meshed well enough to become one, so long as I inhabit this body -- and if I were killed and forced to take a new body I would be one and the same with that form."
Lips twitch into a thin smile "I don't expect you to understand. It took me a great number of years to understand and I'm the one experiencing it. Suffice it to say we are a blending of both persons, but when this body dies only Danel will continue on. As for my supervisors, they are old fools, wasting their time trying to convince me to follow archaic orders."
Dalik alternates between watching Sorin and glancing at Jorek out of the corner of her eye. His conversation with the Andalites and the turelek clearly put her on edge -- though she's too far away to make out their conversation. Hunching her shoulders, she frowns down at her drink. "Sorry," she apologizes inanely, not entirely sure why the word slips from her mouth.
The door to the bar slides open and a young man in his early 20s steps in, looking around curiously. He looks as though he just walked in from the beach, clad as he is in bright orange and blue Hawaiian swim trunks, a loose-fitting sleeveless shirt, and plain brown flip flops. All he's missing is a smudge of sunscreen across his fair nose.
The holster strapped to his waist also detracts from the look, its black leather stark against the colorful clothing. The entire length of it is full, from the twin Dracons to a variety of pouches and small devices that are clipped to it, and they are clearly meant for more than a day of lounging.
Standing in the entrance to the bar, he takes in its occupants with a look of puzzled amusement, head tilted slightly as his gaze lights on each individual in turn, doing a mental count. He pauses, briefly, when his eyes land on Jorek, deep in conversation with...
"Andalites," he hisses under his breath, disgust dripping from the word. He swallows back any further commentary, though, and strides further into the bar. Giving Jorek and the Andalites a wide berth, he makes his way to the counter.
Clearing his throat loudly, he smiles as the bartender approaches. "I'll have one of everything," he says firmly.
The bartender stares balefully.
"Yes, everything," he presses, making a shooing motion with his hand. Instead of leaving, the bartender shoves a notepad towards the man.
Cash or tab? it reads.
"Tab," the swimsuit-clad man responds. "And make it quick. I'm starving."
Without another word, the bartender turns to fill the order.
-
Jorek stops in the middle of expectantly waiting Ossanlin's reply.
His eyes track the swimsuit-clad man, and the smile twitches, then disappears entirely.
"About that bounty hunter, War-Prince," he says softly, taking his drink from the bartender, who is suddenly quite busy. "I could use one now."
-
At first Leona almost seemed disgusted by the thought of someone being so comfortable with having their freedom taken from them. She didn't bother following his gaze as he looked for the culprit, it was probably better Leona didn't know anyhow. "There's makin no sense and then there's crazy..." She grumbled.
When Jeffrey went on to explain exactly why she should trust him the two halves of her brain were instantly arguing. The logical left brain was screaming that Jeffrey's logic made no sense, however in her emotional state Leona was already functioning out of her right brain. Her rage and panic quickly calmed as the tensety in her arms and shoulders softened. "I don' tell stories sober." She finally huffed while trying to snatch her arm out of Jeffrey's grip. If a quick jerk of her arm didn't prove enough to free herself, the wily redhead wouldn't be shy about throwing in a stomp to the side of Jeffrey's knee.
"And I'm Australian... Mate." Leona sarcastically spat the last word, seeming strangely insulted at having her faint accident wrongly guessed. With that she tried to make her way back towards the bar. At least she wasn't hiding anymore?
-
"No need to apologize," Sorin reassures with a smile. "I don't usually do much talking, myself, so I suppose it makes sense for two awkward nerds to sit together at a bar in the middle of nowhere." He sucks up the last of his soda and taps the glass in request for a new one. "And that is a sentence I never expected to say."
"So, what were you so engrossed in with those holoscreens?" Sorin asks after a couple minutes. "Something tells me you weren't exactly playing a rousing game of Halo."
Guppy laughs weakly. "I hope you're right, because I don't think I understood a word you said."
<<Could be because you're spacing out hardcore,>> Chris adds 'helpfully.'
Guppy backs off from the ship to give Myitt some room. "So, question, are strangers usually this helpful in this corner of the universe? Because you're doing a hell of a lot for me right now."
A million thoughts go through Nepek's mind as he sits in his still-idling ship. Thoughts about his past on Earth. And the human . . . well, ostensibly human creature called Sorin. Whe the hell did he have to come back at a time like this!? I have one foot in the grave as it is.
After what seems like forever sitting in his ship pondering what to do, he decides that someone needs to be warned. He leaves his ship and slowly makes his way back to the Bar, taking care not to suffer another fall. After re-entering, it seems that the Andalite, Ossanlin had returned, and another Andalite or two as well. A few other unfamiliar faces, as well as the Jeffrey man from before.
The Hork-Bajir strides toward Ossanlin, stealing a couple glares at Sorin. In response, the human coyly waves at Nepek. "Ossanlin," Nepek starts, interrupting whatever conversation he might have been engaged in. "That man over there," he says, pointing a clawed digit in the direction of Sorin and Dalik. ". . . I know you may not like or trust me at this point, but I advise you to keep an eye on him. I know him, and I know that he can be extremely manipulative and cunning. It's your choice, of course, but I thought that somebody should be made aware, and I figured, hopefully correctly, that you'd be most likely to listen." After this info dump, Nepek turns and begins to walk away, not bothering to wait for Ossanlin's response.
-
Keshin watches as several things happen in quick succession while waiting for Ossanlin to respond. The first makes probably the least sense--- A guy dressed as if he just took a Hawaiian vacation, but in 1994, arrives and sits down at the Bar. The second is that Jorek reacts to him by asking Ossanlin, again, about bounty hunters. <<This is perhaps the person that Jorek is aiming to kill.>>
<<I'm stunned by the lack of taste rich people have, Kess.>>
Keshin glances at Jorek. "I doubt you'll have much luck looking for turelek by asking the War Prince. He probably knows many, but he does not tend to recommend them to Imperials. You can absolutely correct me if I'm wrong," says Keshin, nodding at Ossanlin. "I don't tend to take jobs in this bar for a reason--- The last one went terribly. And I've already secured at least one job for someone else. But...what exactly...do you want done? I know my fair share of hunters."
<<That...and there's the possibility that we'll take the job ourselves. We've still gotta eat at the end of the day, even if Ossanlin destroys our need for fast cash. And what are the odds that Myitt's gonna let us in with the rebels?>>
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The girl yanks herself out of Jeffrey's grasp, causing him to stumble. She mutters angrily about actually being an Australian and heads towards the Bar. "Hey, wait!" says Jeffrey, following her. "Wait up! I don't mind if you tell me the story while you're drunk. That's the condition most people are in when they tell me their life stories, yeah?"
-
Salem grins at Myitt's words. "A bit of ship salvage, yeah. Never really gotten to know the Yeerk living metal, though."
He stands back a step or two and watches. Whatever Myitt's doing, he's more than a little curious. "Let me know if you need a hand," he adds gruffly, almost as an afterthought.
When Guppy speaks, he laughs. "That's a good question. Nobody does something for nothing. In my experience, though, you can get lucky if it's not you they want the payment from." He smirks at Myitt.
Al shakes his head. "I know. Parents, right? Acting like they know what's good for you. So lame. So..." he ****s his head, "these... supervisors of yours. They're like you?"
He laughs brightly and waves a hand dismissively. "Nah, I get it. You're a mish-mash. An amalgam. A collective of two. You're a personality milkshake. Garlic mashed potatoes with extra motor oil." His stomach growls and he rubs it contemplatively. "Is it getting hungry in here or is it just me?"
As he's been speaking, he's been keeping a close eye on Jeffrey and the redheaded girl. They seem to be getting on... alright... mostly. Al shoots Jeffrey a glance and raises an eyebrow.
He turns back towards William, eyes wide. "That sounds so cool," he says earnestly. "I can't really imagine having my headspace be the two who become one. And of course, I imagine William brings your impeccable sense of style and all your swashbuckling expertise, right? Skills Danel wouldn't have had otherwise? Do I have that backwards? Is it like... just kind of growing new knowledge? Are there separate desires and urges? D'you two ever disagree?" His eyes go even wider-- at this point, they're comically, almost unnaturally large in his head. "Do you remember what it was like for William to die?" he whispers.
-
"Yeerk metal's mostly what I know," Myitt says, tugging the strings of the apron around her back, tying it awkwardly with gloved hands. "I was on the Hork-Bajir world when we were designing these babies."
With an appreciative slap of the metal hull, she hunkers down next to the welding mask and the tank.
"Jesus, when was the last time you used this thing?" she wonders aloud, inspecting the nozzle with the scrutiny of a mineralogist. She pats the apron, then fishes around on the gravel, poking a thin stick into the nozzle end.
"Guppy," she narrates, "in a minute there's going to be a ****ton of heat radiating off this thing. I mean, it's a welding torch, so...you know, that's a given. Just don't come near it, alright? I want to help save your eyesight, not melt your face off."
As she talks, she tightens the valves on the torch head, where the tubes from the twin tanks snake into the torch handle.
When she finally stands, she's dizzy. "Jesus. Maybe I shouldn't ****in' operate this thing after a day like today," she mutters, but proceeds to turn the oxygen nozzle.
"Oh," she adds, as the thing sputters and hisses gas, "there will be a lot of smoke, too. Don't breathe it in."
She turns the second valve, acetylene, and takes out a spark lighter - she had one tucked away in her jacket.
"I mean it," she warns, pulling the welding shield over her face. "****in' lot of smoke." Her is muffled and metallic.
Myitt lights the torch, which blasts out a bright red-orange flame, and she gets to work on the side of the ship with practiced ease.
The Bug's black, cool surface sizzles, then bubbles, then glows cherry red - but only momentarily, as the living metal congeals into a removable strip. The flame hisses a steady blue, until she squeezes the handle, and true to her word - acrid smoke belches from the places where the red-orange torch flame hits the metal surface.
It doesn't take long before she has a long strip of undulating metal, the size of a 2x4, stretched out on the gravel before them.
She doesn't pause, unable to talk above the noise of the torch and the gleeful buzzing in her head.
Welding was like a high. It was almost blissful as math, or sex, or oatmeal.
Jorek gives Keshin a distasteful look, annoyed at being interrupted - but then it's gone again, and he forces a smile.
"That creature," he says with a sneer, indicating the man in the Hawaiian shirt, currently ordering the Bar out of house and home, "tried to have me killed. He's a menace to my political pursuits, not to mention my life."
-
"Halo?" Dalik asks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "What's Halo?"
She brushes the question off, clearly not expecting a rational discussion. "I'm monitoring Imperial feeds at the moment. Trying to stay on top of what's happening. Boring, really." Her smile is small. "It's more of an opportunity to pass the time than anything. I've been waiting for my brother to get here, and I'm fairly sure I've been stood up."
Her eyebrows lift, and she glances over her shoulder as Sorin waves. It seems the Hork-Bajir -- Nepek -- has reappeared, joining the small but growing audience surrounding Jorek.
Her jaw sets.
"A friend of yours?" she asks flatly.
William nods slowly. "Yes, they're grigori. They created me, more or less." He laughs then, shaking his head. "That is to say, they joined us together as a...mish...mash?" he echoes Al's words with a slight frown on his lips. "Ah...regardless, they are older, and therefore far more powerful."
His eyes narrow slightly as a new man approaches the bar, wearing some of the brightest clothing he's ever seen. A quick survey and he dismisses him, turning back to Al. The curly-haired man was obviously not a threat, even with the weapon strapped to his hip.
"I do remember William's death, yes," he says quietly. "He was hanged for piracy." Without quite realizing he's doing it, he reaches up and rubs at his neck. "I'm not entirely sure I can answer all of your questions. I remember very little of my previous iterations. I presume each body brings with it a slightly different set of skills and desires, but...I can tell you that our urges, as you say, are more or less perfectly in sync with one another."
The bartender sets a drink down in front of the beach-goer, along with what appears to be a large hamburger.
"Thank you," the man says with a bare smile. He picks up the burger--whatever it might be--and takes a huge bite. Then another. Then another. As if ravenous, he consumes the entire thing in just a few minutes, oblivious to the red juice dripping down his chin.
The bartender doesn't stay to watch. He turns, reaching for another drink, and setting it beside the first. His movements are slow, almost lethargic, but as he works the food and drink seems to inexplicably multiply, until there is a small and ever-growing pile in front of the man.
-
"Tried to have you killed, you say?" says Keshin, staring over at the apparently ravenous man Jorek was pointing out. The Bartender was doing his god's honest best to fulfill the man's order, but it was just getting more extensive with every passing moment. Keshin's lips curve in disgust and he turns his attention back to Jorek. "It appears that the only thing he is trying to murder now is the Bar's food budget, although I am not at all convinced it has one." The Bar had long since proven it could even summon extinct bird-reptiles if it really put its mind to it.
"Regardless...what exactly are you offering for his death? Is he only likely to show up in this specific Bar without guard?" These were the kind of questions any self-respecting bounty hunter would have to know to take the job, period, although Keshin was nervous about asking any of them in full view of the person who probably most disapproved of how Keshin and Joanne made money. A person who he was already asking for something huge for nothing. He shook his head, realizing he had put himself in this awkward situation, and there was nothing that could be done about it.
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At exactly that moment, something peculiar even by the standards of the Bar happens outside the Bar. A ripple of sorts, like someone had touched the surface of the water, pulses across the air between the sky and the ground. It made a strange, worbling sound as it did so, like a broken machine or a pinball game lost ball sound. An uneasy, unnatural silence falls after the ripple, even greater than you would expect in a place with no wildlife or weather. It's something in the very ground, and possibly in the Bar itself. Something like anticipation or excitement or dread. It read, "Here comes something different."
At that moment, the ripple concentrates in a particular spot, and a black-gloved hand reaches out of it. The fingers twitch as if testing the air, and then seem to somehow shove aside the ripple, as if trying to make a bigger hole. A hole in Reality. Something huge and buzzing and incomprehensible, like a fractal made up of intertwined bodies or millions of screaming wasps, is on the other side of that whole. The man's entire upper body pokes next out of the hole, thin and gangly but richly dressed, and wing-shaped spurs and leather boots come out next. The thing that's weirdest is that his clothes are maybe fifty or a hundred years odd off from William, like he stepped specifically out of the Sun King's court. The hole in space instantly snaps shut, and the man collapses onto the ground and winces like someone punched him hard in the chest.
Mar breathes in and out slowly and tries to sweat off his nausea. He hates this trip. The Highest who runs the Bar has strict rules about what can and can't be done inside it, and one of the things He does nearly all the time is limit how much power can be exerted by a visiting Outsider. In my case, I am typically cut off entirely. Practically human. Miserable. What irritating rules I have to follow to come here!
Mar looks around, trying to get an idea of where exactly the Gate dropped him, although he knows it is indeed the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar. He walks through the parking lot in apparent appreciation of anyone who had actually managed to get coordinates to this place. The only way Mar had ever found to get in was to pretty much beg the asteroid's owner for a body. But He did have a habit of allowing Mar entrance when the people Mar had known here last were around, and Mar would have to thank Him for that.
-
"I have the most to offer Yeerks," says Jorek, again giving Joanne an uncomfortable once-over, as if inspecting her ability to perform. Not in a lewd way, but in the way someone might inspect cattle.
"Though I doubt very much that a turelek desires an increase in rank or power," he adds with a sniff. "I could help you in some other way. In any case, I can't very well destroy him now."
He glances over at the man in the Hawaiian shirt with a brooding look of slight dismay. "Not yet," he adds softly, sipping his drink.
-
Keshin raises an eyebrow as Jorek "inspects" them. Joanne can't help but pipe up internally. <<Do I look slight to you, punk? Are you sexist? Cause I swear I am 5"8 of all muscle and sinew, buddy, and I can definitely shoot that hungry ****er over there. Let me talk to this ****!>>
<<He's very clearly Imperial. That wouldn't be a good idea. It doesn't look professional.>>
Irritable cursing and something about "I am not a piece of meat, you ass-faced little ****" rambles into the back of Keshin's mind. He cleans out Joanne's ear with a finger.
"Precisely. I'm thankful you realize fighting in here wouldn't work out in your favor," says Keshin. "But exactly how an Imperial Yeerk manages to slip into this place is...interesting to me, to say the least. The Bar's clientele tend to be outlaws--- People with nowhere else to go, or people who don't fit in. When they're not, they're people who the owner thinks would make it more interesting. How did you even get a lead that told you the target would be here? This station isn't on any map."
-
"No, it's not on any map," Jorek agrees. "Which is why I find it so fascinating. I'm no scientist, but places like this simply shouldn't exist, to my estimation."
He lifts a thin shoulder. His host's boyish qualities are compounded by his dimpled smile and the way in which he's gelled his light brown, short hair into little unkempt spikes, like a teenaged boy from the '90s.
His pale features do contrast with the jet black of his uniform. But again, no insignia.
"As it stands, I came here because it's a known rebel 'hangout', and a terrible place for business," he adds, sipping his drink. "But I'm not here for business. Just destruction." Again he glances at the man in the bright shirt. "The catalysis of destruction. No, no, you're quite right, it wouldn't do, to have it done here."
Pensively, he glances at Keshin. "Perhaps I was drawn here. Do you think this is a good place for destruction?"
Myitt hums to herself, busily tearing slabs of hot metal off the hull of the ship. The underside, once stripped, is a gleaming sort of chrome, and barely looks scratched at all.
She pauses, torch blazing. Something crawls up her back, a sense of unmitigated horror, and she feels momentarily sick.
"Too much alcohol," she whispers, standing there, cold in spite of the heat of the torch.
-
Leona moved to the first open seat at the bar, not bothering to see if there was a seat available next to it for Jeffrey. Motioning to the bar tender she ordered a shot of who-knows-what. Whatever was in her cup smelled as though it could remove paint. "The goal is to be too drunk to remember the details I don' wan' ya knowin." Leona grinned before throwing back the shot that'd been laced before her. Those emerald eyes winced for a second as she shook off the burning sensation. "So, wha' did you wanna know again? ...Righ' why I freaked ou'. I guess after livin with a parasite for seven years they jus' give me the heeby jeebies."
-
Ossanlin notes the newcomer, a Yeerk apparently, throwing a dirty look in his direction, but he pays the controller no further mind. He listens briefly to the exchange between Jorek and Keshin before silently thanking the bounty hunter. The Imperial is an enigma...one he needs time to think over.
He moves his main eyes to regard Forlin. <<Ah, it would seem we have a few moments.>> Ossanlin pauses, mulling over his thoughts. <<Do you truly remember little or nothing of your own people?>>
He barely notices the strange feeling percolating around and through the bar.
* * *
Nyr's red-irised eyes suddenly burn brightly as he feels a kindred joining the Patron's space, his eyes turning straight toward the point of entry despite there being a wall and perhaps other solid objects in the way. A moment later, his eyes flash toward the Patron...the one who had become known by those present as "BT." The Patron only glances at him momentarily, the strange smile brushing across His face before disappearing as if it had never been. Suddenly, Nyr knows just exactly who has returned, and smiles a bit himself. The dull sensation he'd kept of this individual had jumped into a much tighter focus. He sips at his black, viscous drink, sitting straight-backed in the booth, his posture unnaturally perfect as it had been this whole time. It would be interesting to see how the situation with the other had developed...
-
Forlin did not feel bothered by the fact that Keshin was a Yeerk too. At least they introduced their host, Joanne. <Static Shock...I used to watch that cartoon,> he said with an eye-smile. Memories of what could be considered his human upbringing.
There were more newcomers. A man in what must have been pool or beach clothes. He threw Forlin and Ossanlin a glare, and the Andalite pawed at the floor. He didn't like being disliked. At least he could take on a human morph if he wanted to, and it seemed the best option once he got a chance. Plus...that burger looked juicy. He wanted one. Yes, he did not mind eating meat in human morph. And there was a Hork-Bajir. Instinctively, his tail rose, in case it was a Controller that might attack without provocation. But it didn't...seem to be? He seemed to come just to warn Ossanlin about someone, then left abruptly. What was all that about?
His attention back on Ossanlin, he answered the War-Prince's questions, again in private thought-speak. <<I don't recall much at all,>> he replied. He knew a bit about morphing, but he'd mainly recalled the two-hour limit and sorta how morphing worked, the rest he'd figured out on his own. <<The memories are suppressed. Do your->> He stopped himself. That would have sounded rude, calling Andalites 'your people'. He was an Andalite too. He just felt...not very Andalite, having been on Earth for so long. But not quite human, either. <<-our people have a way of retrieving suppressed memories?>> His tone was a scared, nervous one as he asked. Forlin worried about going back; would he ever be able to return home, to Earth?
<<And while I'm at it...what is the Light?>> he queried of the Prince.
Then he noticed something...strange . Some sort of...ripple? He wasn't sure how to explain it. He gave a shudder. <Argh, this place is so confusing! But so fascinating, too...> He wasn't going to leave and let this pass by. <How do you guys make sense of this place?> he asked, his thought-speak public so that Keshin/Joanne and Jorek could hear it too. He just wanted to understand...and it was making his brain hurt. He just wanted to stuff his face with burgers and french fries while in human morph and listen in on people's conversations.
-
Ossanlin favors Nepek with a glance of his main eyes, furrowing his brow. But the elder Hork-Bajir seer seems to lose interest and walk away as soon as his message is delivered. Ossanlin shrugs, one of the decidedly human gestures he's picked up from his close association with the rebellion.
<<Our people do not, I'm afraid. But the rebellion...the Yeerks who are fighting against the Empire...they have memory probes. They were designed specifically to verify the truth of a person's words, or better yet, the truth of his or her intention. Also to strip information without having to infest a host.>> Ossanlin grimaces a bit before continuing on. <<At least, that's how the Imperials use them. It's possible the rebellion would be able to restore your memories. I'm afraid I'm not informed about the total scope of the memory probes. Myitt knows more about them...we could ask her when she returns to the bar space if you like. Of course this solution would also allow them to download and save your memories for personal perusal, so there's a trade-off to be sure.>>
He switches to open thought-speech to attempt to address Forlin's question. <This place is what it is. You may not remember the children's stories of Ellimist and Crayak. Well, those two actually exist, and they are beings of immense power. There are others besides them who exist upon the same level.> He points at the BT. <He's one of them. We don't know His true power, but He's the one bridging the infinite universes of the multiverse together at this small quantum vertex. And He decides who gets in and who doesn't. As far as we can tell, this is how He entertains Himself. He never interferes, merely watches.> As Ossanlin speaks, the BT merely continues to dry-wash a grimy glass tumbler with his dingy old hand-rag.
-
Salem watches, first cautiously, then admiringly, as Myitt takes charge of the cutting operation. She seems... not entirely sober, but she also seems to know what she's doing nearly on muscle memory, so the odds of her blowing herself up or whatever are probably pretty low.
He turns away when the torch starts up, staring back at the bar itself, and walks to stand beside Guppy. He'd love to see Myitt's technique and the behavior of something as exotic as Yeerk living metal, but unfortunately he only has the one face shield. "Guess I'd better look away," he mutters to Guppy in a joking tone. "Otherwise she's going to need to make me a set of eyes too."
As Myitt cuts, Salem watches the shadows dance and flicker on the side of the bar, in the light of the torch. "So," he says conversationally, and a little awkwardly, to Guppy, "what is it brings you to a place like this?"
He feels it when the ripple appears. The strange parting in the air, and the vibrating, crackling, buzzing sensation of power that emanates from the other side. Something at once familiar and terrifying... it's a little like the sensation he gets from the bar, from this whole little region of space and time. And yet part of the reason it's so jarring is because this sensation is so radically different.
"The hell...?" he mutters, turning to look in the direction he's pretty sure corresponds. The raw energy of the thing, and the weird shock of distortion it sends through reality, are already disappearing. Soon they've gone, and all that's left is an aura.
A... disturbingly familiar aura. An aura that feels, somehow, inviting. Warm. Friendly. It's not a sense of warmth he trusts one iota. Some bizarre offshoot of this sense.
This is one of the only auras, aside from Rathien's, he suspects he might know for who it is. A moment later, his eyes resolve a figure walking across the shipyard, and his suspicions are confirmed. Mar.
"****," he murmurs. His wide eyes flick from Mar to Myitt and back again.
"Huh," says Al. "Age results in power in the grigori world. That's pretty neat. A lot of societies value their elders very highly, but usually it's just because death is such a thing for mortals. Like, the oldest ones are the ones who've gotten really good at not dying or whatever." He shrugs. "I don't really get it, but you know what they say." He completely fails to clarify before continuing. "It's not often you find a society where power and age are intrinsically tied. Do they just... like, absorb the energy of the universe as time go on? And while we're at it, were you... like, not a full being before being... eh... fused?" He frowns. "I'm not really sure what's properly P.C. terminology in this case." He beams. "Let me know if I say anything too offensive!"
He sighs as he watches the man in the swim trunks' growing pile of food. "Man, that's not normal," he says, before turning back to William. He grimaces and rubs his own neck. "For what it's worth, your... current iteration... as it were... seems to be a good one." He grins. "Fun, at least." He tosses back the last of his martini, swaying only slightly, and waves for the bartender. "Refill that drink for you?" he asks William.
-
Keshin offers Jorek a dubious expression. "A 'good place for destruction?' You want to find something like that, and you're an Imperial?" Keshin laughs slightly. "Jorek--- I think that was your name---this is probably the best place in the world if you want something to explode, but controlling that fallout simply will not happen. It is more likely to destroy you than you are to enact any form of beneficial destruction." Keshin eyes Jorek carefully. <<Something is very off about him.>>
<<No ****, Sherlock. What was your first clue? Going up and talking to an Andalite? His sexist creepiness? The fact that he wants to kill...that?>> Joanne flashes an image of the Hawaiian shirt guy in their collective mind.
<<Actually...It's the fact that I can't place where he is from. What unit. What Blade ship. Even his job. The fact that he seems to be offering someone in the ranks tremendous power if they can kill that...man. And that his confidence doesn't seem false, or trumped up.>>
<<What, you think he's a...>>
Keshin cut the thought off. <<...I wouldn't throw out the possibility. Not in this Bar.>>
"But if you let go of any hope of that, you might have an interesting time," Keshin says, with a shrug. Keshin nods to Forlin and then impishly says, "As I was just telling the Imperial here...With great difficulty. Nothing about this place makes any sense."
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Jeffrey smiles and sits down next to Leona. He gives the Bartender a look and says, "Nothing alcoholic, man. In this place I don't need to get drunker than I probably already am with two Crown and Cokes on the books. But something, yeah? Something good." The Bartender nods and, even though he is distracted with the other man's rapid orders, somehow manages to slide Jeffrey a drink in less than a second. Jeffrey grasps it and looks it over--- It seemed to be some form of strawberry lemonade. Jeffrey experimentally takes a sip. He smiles at the slightly apple-like taste. "Huuuuhhh. Wonder what this is from."
"Seven years, huh sweetie? How'd you get rid of yours? I hear they stop you from being able to do anything," says Jeffrey. "Pretty resourceful if you ask me." He winks.
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Mar continues his walk across the shipyard and closes his eyes, trying to pinpoint exactly which familiar faces the Bar has offered him this time. Mar grins widely when he detects several people nearby that are definitely familiar: His Precious, the traveler known as Salem (it had to be him, the aura was too large for a mundane and yet too peculiarly mid-sized to ignore), another Highest besides the Bartender (Mar is fairly certain this is Nyr) and...Ossanlin. Mar breathes a sudden sigh of relief. So if all of them were here, it was worth the price of coming here after all!
Now, who do I follow first? The group on the inside or the group on the outside? The group of familiar faces on the inside had been bolstered by a crowd of strangers, many of them distinctly unreadable. One in particular significantly concerns him-- It had the hint of something horribly wrong about it, but he couldn't confirm. The group on the outside. Precious and Salem can perhaps elucidate the identity of the missing others. There's one unknown, but it's a mortal for certain. Mar makes his way across the shipyard towards the location of those three.
He notices that Salem is already staring at him and grins, giving Salem a wave. They weren't exactly friends, really, but still, no? He walks over to the group and notes that the Precious-aura'ed person was...modifying a ship? It was pretty clear she was concentrating on whatever she was doing.
"Long time no see," says Mar in a pleased, even-toned voice with just that hint of a German accent. "It seems you are making use of my gift after all! Otherwise it would have faded, and I'd only have been able to find my pet. Whatever are you people doing this time? And who in the world are you?" Mar casts a disinterested look at Guppy.
-
"Offensive?" William tilts his head, smiling faintly. "A machine is apologizing for offending me?" He laughs. "You're far more polite than my crew. Are you certain you do not know where to find more of you? I'd be happy to take you off your friend's hand if you crave a new sort of adventure." He smiles, then waves Al away as he asks for his drink.
"Mm, no," he says, setting his empty tankard on the counter. "I think it's far past time I find my way home. You wouldn't happen to know how to pass between this place and my own world? I...presume that is what happened? I fell through a rift? My natural form lives in such a place, but our only means of escape is a human."
The pile of food in front of the curly-haired man is growing far faster than he can keep up with. What's more, much of the food is decidedly not meant for a human palate. A pile of bark is clearly more suited for a Hork-Bajir patron, while several shallow tubs of fermented water and grass appear near his feet.
Several dishes in, the man slows his frenzied pace, putting a hand to his stomach. Pale skin greens slightly, and he abruptly whispers something to the bartender, expression urgent. He receives a bland stare in response.
"Dapsen fool," he hisses, then hurries from his barstool, making a break for the bathroom. The pile of food continues to grow in his absence.
-
"Mm," Jorek says, seemingly satisfied with Keshin's response, in spite of the glaring delay that betrayed that distinctly Yeerkish form of internal conversation. "Keshin, yes? I've heard of you. You've made quite a name for yourself, but of course you know that." He grins again, and this time his eyes are lit up, gaze on Keshin's.
He brushes at his sleeve. "Perhaps I was a bit, ah, overzealous in requesting your services at the outset," Jorek concedes. "In any case, since my...acquaintance is here now, I may as well interact with the old fool."
Jorek's eyes follow the curly-haired man in the Hawaiian shirt, as he makes a break for the back of the bar. Then Jorek's eyes dart back to the pile of dishes and exotic food, and he makes a disgusted sneer.
Myitt lowers the torch, stooping down to twist the twin tank valves closed once more.
The flame sputters out, and she stands next to three long strips of writhing, living metal.
Then she pulls the welding mask completely off, sweat on her brow and on her cheeks, eyes wide.
"Holy ****," she breathes, staring at Mar. The welding mask thunks to the gravel.
With a quick movement she lifts the handle of the welding torch, unlit, brandishing it like a weapon.
"Get the **** away from me, jackass," she hisses, eyes narrowed. "Last time you were here, you ****ing killed me!"
-
Guppy stands back as Myitt instructs, but still feels a significant blast of heat from the blowtorch. 'Jeez, I bet that thing could burn a hole through the Earth and have fuel to spare, he remarks to himself. His expression brightens up a bit when Salem addresses him. "On business," he answers cheerfully, obviously not having picked up on Salem's awkward tone. "Trading some parts. I dunno if my contact is actually coming or not, though," he says with a laugh.
He's about to address the newcomer, but Myitt spouts off some choice words before he gets the chance to even utter the word, "hello."
Sounds like some bad blood here, Chris comments. Specifically, something we do not want to get in the middle of.
Yeah, I'm actually with you on that one.
Guppy takes another step back while still attempting to stay within arm's reach of Salem. "Uh, should I be worried right now?"
"Tell me about it," Sorin says. "I came here to buy some stuff to fix my craft, but I don't see the kid that I was supposed to buy from anywhere." He downs another soda in one long sip, not even pausing to breathe. "Can't find reliable people anywhere in the whole ****ing universe, I swear." He gestures to the BT for another drink while looking over to see Nepek heading for the door.
"And yeah . . . you could say he's an old friend." He quickly stands up and rushes over to meet the Hork-Bajir. "I'm sorry, Dalik, excuse me for a minute." With a few quick steps, he catches up to Nepek without the latter noticing the black-clad human standing a couple strides behind him. Without a word, Sorin pulls a concealed Shredder from out of his belt and jams it into his "old friend's" back.
"Surprise!" Sorin says as he pulls the trigger. The old Hork-Bajir falls to the ground almost immediately. Despite Hork-Bajir facial expressions being hard to read, his visage seemed to say rather clearly, "I can't believe you just blew a watermelon-sized hole into my abdomen."
"So sorry!" Sorin says over his shoulder as he walks back to his previous spot at the Bar. "I meant to catch you on your way out the first time, but you caught me off-guard." He resumes his seat next to Dalik and sips on his freshly-renewed drink as if nothing happened. "Apologies for that," he says, completely ignoring the Hork-Bajir bleeding out on the floor a few feet away. "What were we discussing?"
-
Ossanlin's attention is suddenly drawn away from Forlin as his stalk eye catches swift movement across the room. Without warning or provocation, the human who'd been speaking with Dalik draws his Dracon and shoots the Hork-Bajir seer in the back in cold blood. Both Shredders are drawn and leveled at the man before his brain can even process the shock. <What in yaolin do you think you're doing?!>
He keeps both Shredders on the man until he casually takes his seat at the bar as if he'd not just committed a cold-blooded attempted murder. He runs over to Nepek, keeping a Shredder trained on the man called Sorin. He holsters the other, immediately starting a bio-scan on Nepek's physical form. His body, not surprisingly, is in a state of hypertensic shock. All of his vitals are in complete disarray. The wound is, for lack of a better term, horrifying. Ossanlin has seen wounds like this before...this elder Hork-Bajir has mere moments without medical attention...and perhaps even with it.
Ossanlin immediately kneels down and gives the Hork-Bajir an injection of analine to try and offset the shock. <I need assistance here...NOW.> Ossanlin glances around the bar, his eyes lighting upon Al. <You, synthetic...help me carry this Hork-Bajir to my ship's medical suite.> He almost grimaces before adding... <And call your boss.>
* * *
Rathier draws his Entroper immediately at the sound of dracon-fire and trains it on the man who had taken the shot. As the man simply returns to his seat, the bounty-hunter shrugs and re-holsters his Entroper, kicking his feet up on the opposite boot seat under the table. It certainly doesn't concern him.
-
Ossanlin had answered his questions about memory; Forlin was pondering this suggestion. It was strange that an Andalite would suggest getting the help of Yeerks, and Forlin felt that Ossanlin was...very different, from most Andalites. He was inwardly relieved, having been worrying that, if they took him in, the Andalites might take him away and not give him up. Or lock him up or something. He had no way of knowing. And he had no way of knowing at the present, what they stood for.
As for the Rebellion, they didn't seem half bad. He nodded his head in agreement. <<Let's ask her when we see her next.>> He didn't know what this Myitt looked like, so he'd have to depend on Ossanlin. He was...kind of thrilled with the prospect.
Ossanlin explained what he knew about the bar, Keshin adding his thoughts. All this talk of multi-verse and super-powerful beings intrigued the Andalite. He glanced to the bartender with a stalk-eye. Hard to think that someone who was washing with such a dirty rag was truly such a being. He made a note to talk to him. He was curious. And to ask Jorek and Keshin things about Yeerks. He wanted to know everything about this place and the people in it. And it seemed there were things even more interesting than Yeerks in here...
And then suddenly it all went to hell.
The Hork-Bajir was on his way out, when out of the corner of his stalk-eye, Forlin saw someone walk up behind the Hork-Bajir. There was the sudden sound of weapons fire and the smell of burning flesh. Forlin pulled his shredder from his bag almost on instinct. It was, he assumed, a good judgment call; Ossanlin seemed to care about the Hork-Bajir. So he must have been a 'good' guy. There was little he could do for the Hork-Bajir; he didn't know much in terms of medical aid, and the Hork-Bajir was too heavy for him to carry. He could acquire and morph him and use his morph to give him blood, if he needed some. But there was another immediate threat.
The human, who was sitting there casually now. It was infuriating how casual he was about it. Forlin pointed his shredder at the human, turning the setting to kill. <What in Oblivion did you do that for?!> he demanded of the human. In the middle of them, no doubt. Was he insane?! <<Prince Ossanlin, let me know if there's anything I can do to help. Maybe I could morph the Hork-Bajir and give him blood?>>
-
Al stares at William contemplatively for a moment. "Well now, that is an interesting offer. I do always crave adventure." He laughs, but his speculative frown is atypically serious on his face.
He shrugs. "I don't really know how anyone ends up here. This place has a tendency to..." he's interrupted by the sound of a beam weapon discharging. He looks around quickly to see the Hork-Bajir slump to the ground, a ghastly hole through his midsection.
"Well, crap," he mutters. He quickly takes in the situation around the room-- the man who'd fired, calmly returning to his seat in spite of the weapons trained on him. The shocked looks of several of the other patrons. True to his nature, the War-Prince, Ossanlin, is the first to react, kneeling at the dying Hork-Bajir's side and injecting him with something.
When Ossanlin asks for his aid, Al doesn't hesitate. He nods and crosses the bar in a few quick strides, kneeling next to the Hork-Bajir and sliding his arms under it as gently as possible. He stands up-- a ridiculous sight, this man of no special height or build, easily holding a much larger creature in his arms.
He doesn't wait for Ossanlin to lead. This Hork-Bajir doesn't have the time, and Al knows where the War-Prince's ship is parked. In one fluid motion, he stands, steps towards the door, kicks it open, swings deftly sideways, steps smoothly through holding the Hork-Bajir in his arms, and steps out at rather brisk pace towards the War-Prince's ship. As he walks, he opens communications with Salem.
Salem takes a new, appraising look at Guppy. "As a matter of fact, I'm a bit of a trader myself," he says. "If your contact doesn't show up, maybe you and I could work something out." He chuckles. "Even if he does show, we should probably talk. Trading can be kind of rough out here. We could swap war stories." He glances at Mar. "You probably shouldn't be... too worried about this guy. Well... depending." He barks out what might be the beginning of a laugh. "Are you the kind of person who'd make a deal with the devil?"
In spite of himself, Salem turns to Mar and grins. He holds out his hand to shake Mar's. "It's been a long time, Highest. And of course I'm still using your... er, 'gift.' It's... useful." He rolls his eyes at his sleepy-brained word choice and turns to Myitt.
"I'm sure he's not going to try anything crazy right now." He turns a questioning look towards Mar and raises his eyebrows. "Right?" He frowns and stares hard at Mar. "What are you doing back on this..."
Before he can finish, there's an insistent trilling from inside his cloak. He sighs and pulls out a mostly-cylindrical object vaguely reminiscent of a handheld microphone. "What's up?"
"That Hork-Bajir just got himself shot. Bad," comes Al's voice from the little device. "I'm taking him to Ossanlin's ship. Meet us there. War Prince's orders."
Salem groans and looks at the three writhing strips of living metal on the ground. He does not want to miss this. Nor does he want to walk away from Myitt. Nor, after a moment's thought, from Mar.
Which, of course, is why Al made such a point of bringing up Ossanlin. Stupid robot knows Ossanlin's name is one of the few things on this planetoid that will get him moving quickly.
Rather than heading straight for Ossanlin's ship, Salem steps out towards his own ship-- its ramp lowers to the ground as he approaches.
"I'll be back soon, Myitt," he calls over his shoulder. As he disappears into his ship, he yells, "And Mar! I want to talk to you!" This is followed shortly by the clattering and crashing sounds of someone frantically rummaging through a junk pile.
-
Myitt doesn't flinch at the sound of shredder fire, or at the trilling of Salem's link, or the conversation between Guppy and Salem.
She just glares at Mar, hands curled into fists at her side, teeth gritted painfully.
<<Yeah,>> she tells Salem flatly, inside her head, though she doesn't bother to actually respond to Salem aloud.
-
Dalik starts as Sorin darts away, then jumps clear out of her stool when he fires what is clearly a Shredder, mere feet from where Jorek is standing. "By the Kandrona," she hisses. <<Do patrons do anything other than try to murder one another here!?>>
By the time Sorin returns, Dalik is swiping away her holoscreens and shoving her computer cube into her holster. "Do you have any idea what you just almost did?" she demands, voice shrill. Without waiting for an answer, she stalks towards the small group. The felled Hork-Bajir is being tended to by Ossanlin, and one of the human-esque patrons is comically lifting him. Dalik pays none of them mind, instead wrapping one hand around Jorek's bicep in a vice grip.
"You are leaving. Now," she says, flushing a little at the clear demand in her tone, nevertheless trying to direct him to the door.
At the sound of a shot, William looks up, eyes scanning the bar. "Well I'll be damned," he murmurs as one of the big, bladed creatures falls to the ground. "I need to get one of those." His words are heard by no one, though. Al is already gone, rushing to the creature's side.
Frowning, William inches closer to get a better view of the carnage, but the Hork-Bajir is whisked away.
-
Ossanlin glances at Forlin, nodding. <That may be useful, Forlin. You may follow if you wish.> He, himself quickly follows Al out the bar door and toward his ship. He shouldn't be surprised that the android already knows the Mirage's location. He unlocks it remotely and clears the security measures so that Al and Nepek don't get attacked upon entry. He breaks into a trot, and then into a gallop as Al, who appears to be walking, is actually moving at an almost sprint pace. Nepek's body is held supremely stable despite the quick movement around him. Ossanlin shakes his head a bit...Al is a remarkable machine to say the least.
As he follows Al into the ship, he commands the medical suite to reactivate. It had last been used to repair Joanne's sliced carotid artery, and though that wound had been fatal without medical attention, it had been far less grave than the injury sustained by Nepek. <Put him on the lev-table...> Ossanlin starts to say but sees that Al is already doing that. Under the bright lights of the lev-table, the injury looks that much worse. So much of the Hork-Bajir's internals have been fried or vaporized that it's hard to tell what's what...not that that was an easy job in the first place. Ossanlin isn't a medical expert, and while he knows how biology works in general and has field-medic training, he has only a basic understanding of xenobiology like humans and Hork-Bajir.
Ossanlin immediately engages 'pressor' fields to slow and stop all of the bleeding that hadn't been immediately cauterized by the dracon itself. <Nepek...Nepek can you hear me? Blink twice for 'yes.'> Ossanlin watches closely, giving the Hork-Bajir a strong pain suppressant, a stalk-eye moving up to look at Al. <<I hope your boss has some sort of miracle stuffed in that ship of yours. I may be able to keep him alive for a bit, but he's lost a lot of important pieces.>>
-
Forlin was the last one out the door, backing out with his shredder still trained on the attacker. As he got outside, he turned around, a stalk-eye on the door. He followed Ossanlin to his ship. As they were entering the ship, he placed a hand to Nepek, focusing. The Hork-Bajir would go into the acquiring trance, allowing Forlin to make his DNA a part of his own.
Forlin retreated to a corner of the ship as the others were getting to work, and began to morph. <What organs is his missing? I'm morphing–maybe you could take them from my morph?> He was terrified, and that caused him to lose focus on the morphing process a few times. But within about three minutes he was a fully genetic copy of the Hork-Bajir. His first ever Hork-Bajir morph, in fact, and he was surprised at how gentle its instincts were.
-
Nepek doesn't seem to have any sort of reaction to being lifted up by Al, nor does he offer any sign to Ossanlin that he's even alive, let alone conscious. The only sign of life from the Hork-Bajir is the slow, rhythmic rising and falling of his chest, indicating that he's at least still breathing. Even with a Hork-Bajir's almost supernatural ability to heal its own wounds, this was far too great an injury for even a healty Hork-Bajir to even begin to recover from on his own, and it's very clear that Nepek is far past his prime. The bleeding stops fairly quickly, though, due to a combination of Ossanlin's medical attention and the beginnings of flesh already starting to slowly form around the hole.
Sorin doesn't bother to answer the questions directed at him by the Bar's other patrons. Why the hell do they care so much? Especially with Nepek's incendiary personality, it's not likely that he managed to make any friends. And it's not like Sorin possesses any danger to anyone else - to their knowledge at least. For all anybody else knew, he had no reason to attack anybody else. Yet, those two Andalites trained their weapons on him as if he was about to start shooting everybody in the whole place! These people make no sense, he concludes to himself.
Shrugging it off, Sorin returns to his soda without giving another thought to the matter.
-
Ossanlin glances at Forlin, including only the other Andalite and Al in his private speech. It wouldn't do any good to let Nepek hear just how bad his wound really is. <<I'm not a xenobiologist....it looks like he lost nearly all of one of his hearts, I'm guessing a part of the fermentory stomach, a large section of the spinal column...>> Ossanlin's voice falls off as he continues to regard the Hork-Bajir on the lev-table. The Hork-Bajir has lost more than that...but which organs and their actual functions remains a mystery to him. The flesh itself is beginning to regenerate a bit...but to rebuild all that had been lost would be incredibly difficult for his body. Possible? Perhaps, the limits of the Hork-Bajir body are not fully known to him, but he gestures Forlin over.
<<To try and rebuild the network of muscles, neurons, vessels, and tissues might be possible for a skilled Hork-Bajir medical expert, if such an individual even exists. But to try and piecemeal it back together...>> He pauses. <<And besides, it wouldn't do to start harvesting organs from you and have the unthinkable happen. But we can give him supportive care...>> The Mirage could generate synth blood, but it would take time to fully analyze and reproduce a substance similar enough to Nepek's own blood in order to be a suitable replacement. Genuine blood, and not only that, but the Hork-Bajir's own blood would be useful. It could also provide the elder Hork-Bajir with extra energy and material to try and repair his horribly damaged body on his own.
-
Jorek grimaces at Dalik, suppressing the instinct to wrench his arm away from her grip.
"I've seen plenty of Dracon fire, in my time, child," he says with mild annoyance, before finally tugging his arm free with a swift movement.
He patiently straightens his rumpled uniform and brushes the sleeve.
-
"I jus' go' lucky." Leona answer, though her voice began to sound strangely distant. Those emerald eyes gazed blankly at the drink in her hand, looking lost within her memories as she spoke. "I guess some andalites were dumb enough to try and infiltrate the yeerk's host breeding station. Nxion one two one was feeding at the time, fortunately. I managed to escape... And over load the station's power core..." It sounded almost as though the auburn haired human were trying to make a major event out to be no big deal. The destruction of an imperil station was no small feat, let alone surviving. Clearly she had to be leaving out a significant amount of detail.
Before Leona could say much else, or Jeffrey had a chance to ask for details, the sound of a shredder blast broke the relative peace of the bar. To any that might have glanced back towards the redhead after the sound, it would have looked like the human women had vanquished. Having dropped off her bar stool, Leona could be found hunkered down by the bar. Having drawn the dracon beam that had been hidden in her hoody she held it ready. In an instant the nervous, timid female seemed to have turned into a hardened warrior.
-
"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean you need to seek it out," Dalik hisses. "What, by the Kandrona, do you think you're doing, turning up at a place like this? And having conversations with Andalites!"
"A good time to make an exit," William decides. He eyes the remaining patrons of the bar, then slips through the front door.
The wounded creature has already been taken into one of the strange airships, and William is met with silence as he steps into the cool air. A moment of consideration passes, then he turns towards the makeshift parking lot. His boots crunch over gravel as he weaves through the ships. He isn't sure exactly what he is looking for, but a few paces in he pauses.
Closing his eyes, he reaches out with his mind. Not alone, he realizes. Nearby he can sense the minds of several people. Three, at least, as he has trouble picking out one mind from the next. At least one is angry, the emotion burning red against the back of his eyelids.
"Hm," he murmurs. He considers going over to the small group, but then opts to skirt around them, continuing to explore the shipyard.
The bathing-suit clad man returns from the bathroom, looking a bit more pale than when he disappeared. A glance at the still-growing pile of food turns his skin gray again. Clearing his throat, he forces his gaze away, instead surveying the bar.
A frown etches into his features as he realizes that there has been an exodus in his absence. Almost everyone Jorek was speaking with -- including the two Andalites -- are gone. He is alone, save a teenaged girl he doesn't recognize. Sniffing, he wrinkles his nose at the familiar stench of burning flesh.
Instead of approaching Jorek, the man straightens his Hawaiian shirt and approaches Sorin, smiling pleasantly. "Excuse me," he says, speaking Galard in a generic American accent. "I seem to have missed something while I was in the bathroom. What...exactly just happened?"
-
Al does what he can to assist Ossanlin-- mostly this consists of not getting in the way. The Mirage is Ossanlin's ship, after all, and the War-Prince knows his way around it.
Though he's just carried the badly-injured Hork-Bajir in his arms, his body and clothes appear free of blood. His face may be just a projection, but all color seems to have drained out of it. And at Ossanlin's suggestion that Salem had better be bringing 'a miracle,' Al's tight-lipped frown betrays just how little hope he has for this particular case.
Salem rummages through his ship, grumbling. It's not til he thinks back on Al's tone that his sense of urgency really begins to kick in. He winds up stuffing a few objects in his cloak's various pockets, opening a large blue-and-black medical bag, sticking a large jug-like object on top, picking the whole mess up by its twin canvas-esque handles, and starting for the open hatchway. Just before he leaves, he pauses, shaking his head at himself, and turns around. A few seconds and a few thought-speak commands later, and the ship's interior walls have lit up and brought up a display showing the exact position of Ossanlin's craft outside. This in mind, Salem heads down the ramp and walks as quickly as he can. He hoists the big, heavy, awkward bag onto his shoulders and breaks, hunched under the weight, into a near-jog.
It takes him less than a minute to reach the Mirage, and he heads inside without slowing down. "No doctors in this dump, I take it?" he gasps snarkily as he walks up to Ossanlin. Al stands beside the War-Prince, and there's what appears to be a morphing Andalite in the corner. Morphing to Hork-Bajir, maybe?
And then he catches sight of the Hork-Bajir on the lev-table, and his breath catches in his throat. His heavy bag clanks to the deck beside him. "Nerphid help us," he breathes quietly, not even realizing he's spoken aloud.
This is an exceptionally bad injury. There's an enormous hole through the creature's body. Where there should be bones, organs, flesh... there's nothing. Burn marks around the wound, though minimal, and it looks to be clean, at least, not the shredded mess one sees with explosives or matter-based weaponry. Thank Thaum for that, at least. There's not a lot of blood, and it looks as though Ossanlin's already applied something similar to his own force bandage technology.
He's seen people recover from worse... though not much worse, and never without immediate professional medical attention. They'll be lucky if they can keep this poor creature alive for five more minutes, let alone save him.
An image flashes through Salem's mind. Ossanlin. The very Andalite beside whom he's standing. Lying in the dirt. Blood pouring from his breathing slits. Both legs broken, badly enough that the War-Prince's shattered bones are clearly visible. Ossanlin's foggy mental state. His delirium and the onset of shock. His obvious, excruciating pain, kept in check almost exclusively through the supernatural intervention of a bizarre four-armed being. The Andalite's blood, pooling around him, while Salem works feverishly to keep the War-Prince alive for just one more minute.
Al kneels beside Salem and opens the medical bag. He sets the weird jug down beside it and digs out a little, cylindrical container of some glistening, silvery fluid. With one hand, he pulls out a syringe and draws some of the fluid into it from the cap of the container.
"Salem," he says, sharply but gently. The word appears to shake Salem from his daydream. Salem takes the syringe from Al and places his hand on the Hork-Bajir's neck, feeling along for something in particular.
"What've you already given him?" he asks Ossanlin, though his eyes never leave the Hork-Bajir's neck. "Do we have any medical facilities or personnel available?" His fingers appear to find what he's looking for-- a particular vein-- and he plunges the syringe's needle into it, gently and expertly releasing the fluid into the Hork-Bajir's bloodstream.
-
Ossanlin watches the displays intently as the Hork-Bajir's lifesigns show signs of weakening further. <Analine. To offset the shock. I'm going to have to resort to synthetic adrenaline soon. Forlin is morphing Nepek so we can harvest blood to help replace and repair what he's lost. If we don't get circulation restored to his lower body soon...> Ossanlin doesn't finish the sentence, watching as Salem injects a fluid into the Hork-Bajir's neck. The nanites, most likely...probably the same ones he's proffered to Ossanlin once upon a time in trade for something or other.
-
"Well, it's not entirely a surprise that you've heard of us," Keshin says with a casual smile. Considering he's talking to what could easily be a very powerful Imperial. "That said, you'll need to be a bit more specific, and perhaps be in another place when----"
A cold sweat runs down Keshin's spine as they hear the sound of a Shredder firing, and he turns around in shock. The cranky Hork-Bajir Seer had dropped dead on the ground, his guts spilling onto the Bar's immaculate wood floor. Ossanlin is the first person to move. He also has that medical ship. Ossanlin can act fast enough. Keshin tries to pull himself into motion after the War-Prince, but he is too slow. The other Andalite and Al the crazy Android are out the door long before he can react. Keshin facepalms and curses his hesitation. In an actual dangerous situation this behavior would absolutely get him killed. <<Am I that shaken up from that last attack? Ridiculous.>>
<<We choked. It happens. Let me play ball for a while, okay?>>
Keshin lets go and falls backward into the empty space of Joanne's mind. Joanne rubs her neck uncomfortably and notices that the Hawaiian shirt man has shown up and started talking to...the killer. Joanne squirms and immediately walks over there, trying to angle herself between them. She has no idea what to say to the guy that **** Jorek wants to kill, but she doesn't want someone else to die within five seconds of the last one. What comes out of her mouth to him is, "It's no problem. Somebody---- This guy right here--- jus' tried to kill th' Hork'Bajir in the room for no flippin' reason." She threw up her arms. "The others went to try an' save his life. Not complicated."
All the while, the Bartender's impassive expression hasn't changed at all. Nepek's blood, guts, and entrails slowly seep into the somehow untouched floor into the cracks in between the boards.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jeffrey whistles as he looks over at the girl with a hint of admiration. He straightens up a bit. "Woooo! That's a hell of a thing you managed to pull, dear! I'd bet you'd be freaking fantastic in an Engageme----"
Jeffrey looks up from his conversation with a startled look, and then a grin, at the sound of spaceman gunfire. He's unable to make out exactly what the situation was, but of course the blue deer was heroically first out the door! "Captain Righteous the Liberator!" Jeffrey crows with a bit of a laugh. "If you are in need the blue furry butt of justice will be there! Or somesuch." Jeffrey pauses, and then walks forward with seemingly no regard for any threat to his own life, undaunted by the chaos. He looks back towards where Leona was and frowns. "Hey, sweet thing? You still alive back there? I was gonna go check this wild **** out if you want to come with."
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Mar holds up his hands as Myitt points the welding torch at him, mildly exasperated. "Precious, I'm not here to cause you any harm."
He looks awkwardly over at Salem, and smiles slightly. He was actually happy to hear that his gift had been of some value. "I came by to---" But a sound, an alarming sound, comes over the air, and Salem has a conversation with what's probably his robot friend. Mar closes his eyes and breathes, trying to resist the urge to follow the trail of an imminent death to its source. It's not time. There's still a chance. Others have a claim first. But it occurred to him that there was another reason he should go. The group there might benefit from his aid, and he could use this to stay centered given the feeling running through him.
Mar then opens his eyes and looks over at Myitt. Salem had left for the attack, and she looked afraid. Why hadn't she left? "Dearie, are you quite alright? Normally you would be all over this. I'm going over in moments to see if there's anything I can do to help."
-
Nepek twitches very slightly when the syringe goes into his neck, but doesn't move after that. He can hear voices as if from far away, but can't make out a single word. Where was he . . . what even happened? Something involving an old friend? And what's this incredible pain that seems to be cutting through the foggy veil that seemed to be thrown over all other senses? Am I dead? Before Nepek can even wrap his head around the hundreds of incoherent thoughts going through his mind, his eyes close and he slips into unconsciousness, leaving his slow, steady breathing and the faint beating of his remaining hearts the only sign of life.
"Oh, don't worry," Sorin says with a glance at everybody still left in the Bar, finally stopping at the man in the Hawaiian shirt. "It was just a little quarrel between old colleagues that I wanted to put an end to. Can we not leave it at that?"
-
The curly-haired man raises an eyebrow. "So this is your doing?" he asks, catching another whiff of burnt flesh. It's almost enough to send him running to the bathroom again, but instead he slides into the seat opposite Sorin.
"I don't care about your quarrel," he admits. "What I do care about are those Andalites. Where did they run off to?" The question is more of a demand than anything else. He speaks like someone who expects an immediate answer.
-
Forlin was focused on morphing. His morph took him longer than it would if he was morphing to human; Hork-Bajir was unfamiliar territory for him. He hoped that he wouldn't be overcome by instincts all of a sudden.
He saw that they were joined by another. He finished his morph, coming close as Ossanlin motioned him over. Now that he had a heightened sense of smell, he could smell the blood and burning flesh, and he felt a little nauseous as he gazed upon the carnage. So it seemed what was needed most from him for right now was blood. It was Nepek's own blood, considering Forlin was essentially, a clone of him. It was a way morphing might save his life...
<Go for it,> he said. It might be a little painful, but he could take a needle or two. He hoped that the blood from a morph wouldn't make things worse for Nepek...but if there was something wrong with morph-blood, Ossanlin would know.
<Is he...do you think he will be okay?> Forlin said, voice full of emotion. Even though this was someone he did not know, he still wanted him to be alright. Still cared about him.
-
Ossanlin quickly instructs the computer to insert a force-field needle into the primary vein of Nepek's left arm. He then instructs the computer to do the same to Forlin's morphed body. The computer slides needle-thin filaments of force-field into each of their arms and expands them into hollow tubes. Ossanlin also commands the computer to relax the pressor fields as the new growth occurs in the Hork-Bajir's body.
Hork-Bajir blood begins to flow through a sterile tube of nothing floating in the air. Of course the tube wasn't nothing, per se, it was made of force-fields. Nepek's blood-pressure begins to climb as the new blood makes its way into his deprived, damaged body. <With the combination of the nano-bots and the Hork-Bajir's bio-engineered resilience...> Ossanlin lets the sentence hang. He has little way of estimating the Hork-Bajir's chances of survival...the wound is grievous, and Nepek is past his prime.
-
"Hell if I know," Sorin grumbles, ignoring the man's urgency. "I saw somebody carry the walking garbage disposal off somewhere, but as to where they went, I haven't the faintest." He looks around the Bar once more, andfrom the looks of things, everybody was still on edge. Such a strange group of people.
"What's your name, anyway? I assume it might be in poor taste to call you 'Big Kahuna?'"
-
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.
-
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.
-
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.
-
"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?"
-
"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.
-
"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."
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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."
-
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.
-
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.>
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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?"
-
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?"
-
"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.
-
"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."
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"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.
-
"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."
-
"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."
-
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?>
-
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?"
-
Myitt scowls down at the living metal, scraping a knife along one piece, over and over.
She glances up at Mar only when he starts to walk away.
Something about losing Daniel, and seeing him here, made her feel angry and torn and wistful.
Back to the living metal. Much better than having to think about anything as troublesome as emotions.
"Guppy?" she tries, without even so much as an upward glimpse. "You still here?"
"You presume all the time, Yeden," sighs Jorek with feigned weariness, flicking lint off the sleeve of his uniform. "Yes, Keshin, by all means - join us." He smiles at the bounty hunter. "Surely you're curious?"
-
Ossanlin hesitates a moment before nodding curtly and giving Salem the same permissions to the med-bay he'd given Al. <You will stay out of the Mirage's primary computer system.> The statement is not a question. The lockout should be enough to stop anyone from accessing the central computer system, but Salem is full of tricks and gadgets that are capable of surprising things. And information is certainly the human's focus in life.
Strange to think that the man had once been a friend and confidant to his People. The human and android had looked so out of place on the Homeworld...
-
Keshin looks between the two men quizzically, and then sighs. "Alright, you win. Let's...talk." Keshin sits down at the seat between the two men. "Who exactly are you two, and what's got you so burnt against one another? Judging from your demeanor, strange clothes, utter disregard for protocol, set cetera..." Keshin lists these off on his fingers. "It's political," he says flatly. "My host and I already have started up an extended guessing game as to your identities."
While this wasn't strictly true, it would throw them a little off balance and point out that Keshin was more rebel-like than he let on. The more distance he could put between whatever the agenda of these two guys was and their likelihood of dragging him into it, the better. Although it was also possible they wouldn't skip a beat, as they didn't seem like the type of Imperials who would care.
<<Yeah, and it's the barren field that is their ****s that's putting me off, Kess...>>
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Mar continues walking away from Myitt, casting a brief glance back at her as she looks at him. She immediately gets back to her work, and he scoffs to himself. It was unlike her to be so callous, even with her demeanor! Normally the woman was first out the door no matter who was in trouble, even if she'd never admit it! Didn't he remember! It might be me. I do have that effect on people, don't I? No one wants to come help me do anything.
Mar crosses the distance between Myitt and the ship where he senses Ossanlin quietly, his hands in his coat pockets. It was always chilly out here, even though there was no hint of any sort of weather on the rock anywhere. He's seen this ship before. The Mirage--- The small ship that the War-Prince used to leave the big one, although it wasn't exactly tiny. It was part of the mess that had occurred when Ossanlin had nearly gotten himself killed. Again. Staying alive wasn't exactly the Andalite's strong suit in the Bar.
Mar stops directly in front of where the entrance would normally appear, closing his eyes and focuses on the upper deck of the ship. There they all were. Ossanlin, Salem, and apparently one other--- The person who was dying, whose current name faded in and out of view as he got closer and farther away from death. <<Can you hear me?>> "Excuse me, it's Mar," he said aloud. "I'd like to come onboard and see if there's anything I can do."
It was better to try both methods, telepathy and loud speech that would be picked up by the ship's front sensors. He wasn't sure which of his abilities worked this time. It was a bit hit and miss with this place.
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Jeffrey glances quizzically behind the table. He thought he heard something strange. And just like that, Leona was...gone. Jeffrey frowns. Maybe his lady friend had run off somewhere else, or maybe the Bartender had moved her. She did seem a little shaken up. Jeffrey shrugs and walks over to the bar itself, sitting down. It was just a matter of waiting until the conquering heroes came back, right?
He looks vaguely over at the guy who was the apparent cause of the mess and said, "So what's your ****ing deal man? Why kill the spiky old alien? I mean sure there's 'for the hell of it' as an answer, but seriously it looked like you had beef with him!"
-
Yeden scoots aside to allow Keshin more room and smiles.
"We're members of the Council of Thirteen, of course" he tells Keshin primly, reaching for a fresh plate. "I'm surprised my colleague didn't tell you as much, seeing as he's seeking your services. Though I suppose it makes sense, if he wanted you to destroy me. We are supposed to be allies." He fixes Jorek with a brief, dark look, then turns back to Keshin. "As for which members of the Council...which I'm certain is your next question...I'm technically not at liberty to say, though I assure you Garoff here ranks...far...above me."
-
Al nods to Ossanlin. "Much obliged." Salem, on the other hand, only favors the War-Prince with a smirk- a smirk that quickly dissolves into an expression of discomfort and confusion as he's treated to one of the most unusual experiences of his life.
"How's that feel?" asks Al.
"Like there's a beebat trying to massage the backs of my eyeballs with its wings," says Salem, rubbing his forehead. "Was that you using my implant?"
Al nods and says brightly, "Yep! Brace yourself!"
And then the weird, psychic vibrating sensation is back. It's a sort of squirming, crawling sensation inside his skull. It's not a physical sensation; all of the energy is purely mental, a sort of misalignment of his thoughts, similar to the way the world would look if his head were vibrating violently. The sensation comes and goes in fits and pulses, a little like Morse code.
Or, he realizes after a moment, like spoken language. The rise and fall of the frequency of the disjoinder... he's 'hearing' Al's words, spoken across the Android's connection to the ship and then back through the Andalite-made chip installed in his own head. He can almost sense words... and he can get a hint of the emotions and images that accompany them... Apparently this plan is working, because he can see the force fields and instruments of the med-bay responding to Al's commands-- first, the blood-siphon from the morphed Andalite wavers and adjusts, as Al gets a feel for what the proper commands are. Then, the medical equipment scans the morphed Andalite. Seconds later, a holographic image of the morphed Andalite's circular system flickers to life in the air near Al's face-- and at the same moment, the image is transmitted, with brilliant clarity, directly into Salem's own mind.
This flurry of sensation makes it difficult to focus... to pay attention... and right now, his mental defenses are so worn down he doesn't even have the energy to try to fight it... so he simply watches, half dazed, as Al leans over the gaping hole in the Hork-Bajir's torso.
Al disables the force fields which are stemming the flow of blood from the Hork-Bajir, and at that same moment holds out his hand. A maroon-colored 'film' flickers into place, fitting over the surfaces of the wound where the med-bay's 'bandage' had been a moment before. With a glance up at the floating holographic image, Al alters his own holographic projection to match-- a network of plastic-looking arteries and veins snaps into place, colored maroon and dark blue-green in what would be a good textbook representation of Hork-Bajir blood colors.
He then sends commands to the medbay, steadily replacing his own artificial-looking holographic blood vessels with invisible ones through which blood now flows steadily, if weakly. It takes Al only a couple of minutes to build the network of the largest arteries and veins in the destroyed section of the Hork-Bajir's torso. The network he builds isn't complex or detailed enough to replicate all of the Hork-Bajir's missing blood vessels, but the main thoroughfares have been replicated. Visually, blood now pumps through the air into and out of the injured creature's lower extremities.
As a final command, Al instructs the medbay to pull back the bandage and to stop generating the blood vessels as the flesh heals and grows back into place, much as Ossanlin had done.
"Hand me that?" he says to Salem.
"Uh... what?" Salem asks stupidly, sounding almost as if he'd just woken up.
"The jug of stuff," says Al, holding out his hand without turning around. "Time's a-wastin', nurse!"
Salem looks down dazedly and spots at his feet the large jug-like object he'd stuffed onto the top of the medical bag. He picks it up and puts it in Al's outstretched hand.
Al takes the jug, sets it, seemingly, in midair above the Hork-Bajir's shoulder, on a force-field cushion he's created. He tips it upside down, and a slow drip of clear fluid begins to trickle down an invisible tube and into the Hork-Bajir's arm. "Hork-Bajir liquified bark nutritional supplement," he explains to no-one in particular. "Luckily for us, it can also be administered intravenously. He'll need all the fluid and nutrition we can give him."
Finally, Al turns back to Ossanlin and shrugs. "All we can do now is wait, I think, unless we find a real medical professional. I have no idea if this is... like, kosher, medically speaking, or if it's even the right thing to do, but it's the best I've got." He frowns and says, in a near-perfect impersonation of one Bones McCoy, "Dammit, Jim, I'm an appliance, not a doctor."
-
Jorek scowls at Yeden, crossing his arms.
"Do you really want me to destroy you?" he gripes. "I was savoring my anonymity."
-
"Just be grateful I didn't tell the Andalites who they were speaking to," Yeden responds, taking a bite of what might be steak. If steak were slightly green. "And you know you can't destroy me without approval from the Council." He tilts his head. "Hence the turelek, I suppose."
-
Sorin smiles in an almost shy expression. "I guess you could say we 'had beef.'" He holds up his left arm, which had been close to his side for his entire visit to the Bar. A nasty scar runs along the length of his limbalong with a few very small circular scars dotting the perimeter. "Long story short, the son of a **** tried lopping my damn head off years ago." His expression turns into a twisted grimace. "Figured I'd return the favor."
Sorin gnaws at his lip for a moment. "**** it. Bartender, hard cider?" He turns back to Jeffrey. "Question is, why would you come over here after that? Most everyone else seems to be . . . eh, averse to interacting with me, to say the least. Surely, you gotta have a screw or two loose. And I mean that in the nicest way possible."
Guppy perks up a little when Myitt calls his name. He didn't understand a single word of the conversation between his new friend and this Mar character, so he's glad to have Myitt to talk to again. "Yeah, right here," he chirps. "Everything alright?"
Slowly, Nepek's eyes begin to flutter open. At first, the only thing he notices is the incredible pain in his midsection. The last thing he remembers is the smell of burned flesh as he fell to the ground after being shot. Judging from the pain and how he literally can't even feel several of his internal organs, it certainly should have been fatal.
Without moving his head, Nepek scans his eyes around. All he can see is an unfamiliar steel ceiling. Very different from the interior of the Bar, for sure. He finally catches a glimpse of the Andalite Ossanlin, as well as a couple of the strangers that he noticed in the Bar earlier.
Nepek groans softly, not being able to make much of a sound. "Ugh . . . Ossanlin?" he says, his voice very weak. Was the Andalite the one keeping him alive? That certainly seemed to be the case, although the wounded Hork-Bajir can't fathom why. "What happened?" he manages to cough out.
-
"Yeah, everything's...fine," Myitt tells Guppy, though she doesn't sound at all fine, punctuating the word with a scrape of the knife.
Myitt clears her throat and says, "Someone just appeared here, someone named Mar. This Mar guy...he just rubs me the wrong way. He's sort of the devil. I mean that literally, I think I died and went to his version of hell. Whatever, I don't believe in that **** anyway."
She falls silent, scraping the living metal into shape.
"We're going to need to hack my computer to get these goggles working, by the way. And glass. We need some plexi..." She arches her neck to look around the gravel yard where she currently sits, legs sprawled.
Jorek only smiles at Yeden. A thin, unpleasant smile.
-
Ossanlin watches in true awe as Al works. Never had he ever imagined that the android would be capable of such marvelous things. His eyes widen as he seamlessly commands the force-fields to create a network of blood vessels between Nepek's top and bottom halves. Al would be handy to have around in pretty much any situation. He glances surreptitiously over at Salem with a stalk-eye. He loathes the idea of owing the man anything...mostly because Salem would try to collect...and partly because the man had nearly killed him once while he'd been pursuing Keshin. Strange how his attitude toward Kess had changed. Al's results, however, cannot be denied. <Remarkable...> He speaks almost involuntarily. <Ah...yes...well supplement is a good idea as well I suppose. That's why we're doing the blood transfusion too...to supply his body with the necessary nutrients to....>
Ossanlin glances quickly at Nepek and falls silent as the Hork-Bajir speaks. He immediately engages the stasis field so that the Nepek is held mostly-immobile. He doesn't know how quickly the med-bay would be able to react to keep the fragile network of veins and arteries Al had built in the correct place if he started twisting and turning. <You were shot...quite badly. Your body is slowly healing, but for the time being, you will not be able to move your lower extremities. Your torso has suffered critical damage. I'm amazed that you can currently speak, but it's a good sign that you can...although it's likely not the best idea in your present condition.>
He pauses before speaking again. <You're aboard my yacht, the Mirage. We carried you here after you collapsed and began attempting to treat you.>
Ossanlin's eyebrows shoot up as he hears a familiar voice both within and outside of his head. He turns a stalk-eye to regard the strangely garbed figure standing at the bottom of the ramp. <Mar...it's a pleasure to see you again.> He grimaces a bit, switching to private thought-speech. <<I don't know that your talents would be exceedingly useful in this situation...we have a Hork-Bajir seer clinging to life. We're doing what we can to save him.>>
-
Keshin sighs, edging back into his seat.
<<Kess, we really don't want to be involved with these guys. We really, really don't want to be involved.>>
<<...that might not necessarily be true. Let's see what they have to say.>>
"Well, Your Eminences, I ordinarily as a sensible freelancer have a very strict policy, and that is to not get involved in a fight that is worth more than I could conceivably be paid," Keshin intones slowly and carefully. "Turelek are known for our..." Keshin makes a motion that suggests someone flighty. "...self-centered nature, and part of that involves being smart enough to know when the job is too risky. Any job that involves two bored members of the Council would probably count."
"With that said...I make exceptions. The fact that you've heard of me at all suggests I'm doing something righter than I anticipated."
<<What the ****? Do Vissers and Councilors share drunk stories about us at some kind of magical officers' bar?>>
<<We're actually at a magical Bar. Let's not judge.>>
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<<You're right. That doesn't particularly sound like something where I would be useful. Nonetheless, I'd be happy to lend a hand if you need one, War-Prince. I'm coming up.>>
Mar walks up the ramp and into the scene, trying to get a feel for it. There was the patient, being tended to by none other than Salem's mysterious robot friend- Al. Salem seemed to be aiding him in some way, helping him maneuver an elaborate technological array. Mar holds up a hand as if to wave at the two of them and peers down at the now definitely-not-dying Hork-Bajir. He then turns around in one quick swerving motion and smiles, with a surprising degree of warmth, as soon as he sees the strong, currently-tense muscled figure of his Andalite friend. Ossanlin.
"I do hope you're getting on alright, War-Prince," says Mar hesitantly, rubbing his left shoulder. <<Considering what you've been through. What horrors you have seen. What you have lost for this gain.>> "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help. Even if it is just a pair of extra arms."
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Jeffrey laughs. "You don't have to hold back, stranger! Half the screws in my brain aren't straight! Bartender, another drink!" He blinks. "...gosh the drunk seems to die out of you fast in this place." The Bartender stares impassively at him and prepares the drink.
"So why wait this long? Could you not find him until now? And why do it now, with all these other people around? That's ****ing stupid, you know?" Jeffrey spins a finger around his ear.
-
Al and Salem both start when the injured Hork-Bajir speaks. Al turns to him with a warm smile. "Glad to see you're... alive. Big, Blue & Fuzzy's right, though. Conserve your strength, big guy. You should be resting for now. You're a bit of a mess, but in my professional opinion as an appliance, you'll be fine."
Al's eyebrows shoot up when Mar approaches. "Whoa. Uh. Hi." He sounds unsure of what sentiment he should be displaying.
Salem, on the other hand, grins. "Welcome to the party, Highest." His head is quickly getting back to normal after the barrage of bizarre internal buzzing. He knows Mar's offer of help probably isn't straightforward... though he's not really sure of the nuances of his relationship to Ossanlin... so, he guesses, his enthusiasm at Mar's presence must have more to do with the strange man's potential for chaos than anything.
As he looks around, he sighs. Ossanlin seems destined, in this place, to be constantly surrounded by a rabble looking to take up his time. At least the crowd here, in the Mirage, is far preferable to the squawking horde that'd surrounded him in the bar proper. Salem briefly thinks that this may be a remarkably fortuitous move for him-- a thought he quickly, and guiltily, quashes with a glance at the wounded Seer.
He clears his throat and does his best to look solemn. "War-Prince Ossanlin, if you have a moment, I do have something important I wanted to discuss with you. Uh... potentially classified." His eyes move from one occupant of this small area to the next. "Or at least sensitive to the homeworld."
-
Ossanlin glances at Mar as he enters. <I suppose I'm alright.> <<There is something wrong...but it's a matter of some privacy and I can't leave here now.>> He pauses a moment, thinking. <<I do not have...control. Or, more precisely perhaps, I...lose...control from time to...>>
He falls silent again as Salem speaks, his private thought to Mar terminating. His main eyes narrow as they turn to look at Salem. The trader had been to the Homeworld before...quite the honor for a non-Andalite, though one Salem had seemed to take in stride. <And what would that be? Were you made Lord-Commander of Sector Seven whilst I wasn't watching?>
-
"Oh, come now, Keshin," says Jorek jovially. "We don't really want to talk business with you. Not so brashly, and certainly not in one another's company." He pats Yeden's shoulder lightly.
"Can't we just be friends?" He salutes Keshin with his drink.
-
"Can I be friends with two drunk Councilors in a space bar in the middle of nowhere?" Keshin says, beginning to relax in his chair.
<<Oh come on, why not? It's not even the weirdest thing that's happened.>>
Keshin shrugs. "Maybe. If you two have some interesting rumors to share." He smiles slightly. Of course they did, but how many were either of them going to tell him?
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Mar salutes to Salem as soon as he speaks. He was fond of the trader that he'd opened the "third eye" of, in his own way. Salem had put it to more use than he had honestly expected. He walks further into the room, glancing over at Nepek briefly. "I do hope you're alright," Mar says calmly. "You were very, very close to being dead." He wasn't sure if the Hork'Bajir was a Seer or not, but it seemed more likely than not. It was racist to say, but he couldn't see them going through this much trouble for an ordinary species member.
Mar glances very slightly towards Ossanlin when his private thought speech message reaches him. <<You're losing control of your powers? My, that is very problematic. Might it have been because of the extremity of what we did? ....I don't know what aid I can provide. The Ellimist and I use very different spectrums and kinds of energy. Still...I would be willing to discuss it at a later time.>> The War-Prince sounded troubled, more than distracted. Anything that distracted him could not be pleasant for anyone else.
Mar looks over at Al. "Anything I can do to help here? I doubt it, but..." He shrugs. "I am here, and all."
-
Yeden flinches away from Jorek's touch, lips curling into the faintest of snarls.
"Yes, please discuss your business with the turelek in private," he says, giving the other Councilor a flat look. "As for me, I'm rather busy enjoying my meals."
He turns his gaze back to Keshin, smiling brightly and pushing a plate in his direction. While no new food is appearing, a large selection of options remain; enough to easily feed the entire bar, regardless of species. "While I entirely understand if you're intrigued by Garoff's offers to have me destroyed, I would far rather you indulge in meal with me. As for rumors...well. It all depends on the sort you like to listen to."
-
"I probably shouldn't ask,"Guppy says with a light chuckle. "You at least have all the metal you need? I thought that freakin' blowtorch was gonna burn my face off all the way back here." He scratches at his chin. "I might have some Plexiglass something-or-another back at my ship. A friend of mine gave me a broken console that he salvaged, but the glass should be more than useable."
Sorin takes a sip of the hard cider that the BT provided, cringing at the faint yet unfamiliar taste of alcohol. "It's not really a matter of not being able to find him, more that our paths happened to cross here. What's wrong with capitalizing on the opportunity, right?"
He smiles and nods, as if he were trying to come up with the explanation for himself rather than Jeffrey. "Maybe I am a little ****ed up, who knows? But I'll own that, and it seems to me that you do, too." He raises his drink off the table and holds it up. "Ccrazier than Billy Corgan on acid. I'll drink to that," he says, following the toast with a large gulp of his cider.
Nepek nods slowly, taking care not to move too much. These strangers seem friendly toward the Hork-Bajir, even if their conversations are making no sense at all to his half-conscious, semi-delirious mind. He says nothing in heed of their advice and stays as motionless as possible, waiting for any sign of his fate. Life of death . . . it doesn't even matter to Nepek at this point, just as long as he can be certain of either.
-
Salem laughs in surprise at Ossanlin's comment- his shock draws his attention away from the mildly-concerning beginnings of a headache. Well, then, that answers my first question. "Not Lord-Commander, no," he says. His eyes sparkle and he smirks as he speaks. "But if you think that's a viable life goal, I may have a new career path ahead of me." He laughs at the sheer absurdity of that thought. Heck, getting an Andalite to even speak with him usually feels like an accomplishment, especially since what he's come to think of as his banishment from the homeworld.
He hesitates, glancing around the room, then stares hard at Ossanlin, thinking. There's probably a good chance Ossanlin himself is a member of Sector Seven. Heck, he's not even entirely sure how Sector Seven itself is organized. With as well as he knows Ossanlin- that is, not exceptionally well- he has reason to believe the War-Prince would back him up in his beliefs. He's not, however, willing to bet his own life on that fact, let alone the lives of those he cares about and the fate of the galaxy. He'll have to proceed cautiously.
"It does concern... Sector Seven, though." Even saying the words in front of this many people feels off. Taboo, somehow. At this point he's just following Ossanlin's lead. "Have you noticed anything... unusual about their movements lately? Anything changing? How about on the homeworld? Or among the people as a whole?"
Al shrugs at Mar. "I don't think so, but like I keep saying, I'm no doctor. Too many mixed drink recipes in here," he raps the side of his head, which gives off an unnervingly deep metallic thudding sound, "not enough medical knowledge. I may be fluent in over six million forms of dubstep, but I'm lucky if I know your face from your... like, secret second face." He pauses and looks around. "Humans have those, right?" He grins and looks back at Mar. "Anyway, man, feel free to have a look. I'd welcome informed suggestions, but there's nothing else to be done that I might suggest, I don't think."
-
Andalites are typically graceful creatures, but there is nothing graceful in this. A thundering sound precludes the abrupt crashing of branches, followed by a tumble of purple fur. Skidding to a stop, she nearly trips over her own hooves, clearly near the edges of total exhaustion. Nose slits flare as she sucks in labored breaths, her sides slick with sweat.
Her main eyes widen at the abrupt appearance of the bar and shipyard, and for several long minutes she doesn't move. Then, tentatively, she calls out in public thought-speak.
<Hello?>
-
"I'd like to listen to any tidbits either of you two have," Keshin says with a knowing nod. "I doubt you'd tell me anything political, but I do imagine you have some idea of how the human side of the war is going? You see..."
Keshin picks up a sandwich from Yeden's pile and looks at him with a "Can I?" look on his face. "...I honestly haven't been on my host's home world in years. We pick up most of our supplies from space outposts nearby. The occasional planet stopover doesn't really give you much of an idea, you know? Which is ironic, because..."
Keshin gestures with his other hand at the two of them. "...so many Yeerks are human Controllers these days."
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Jeffrey raises his glass and clinks it, taking a long hot sip of the drink the Bartender had prepared. Even though the supervillain had been vague, the Bartender had nonetheless managed to produce exactly what he was hunkering after--- A biting, frothy ale. Jeffrey breathes out the distinctive alcoholic stench with a grin. "Ahhhhh. Perfect. And you know what?"
Jeffrey smirks and bobs his head in a nod. "Yeah! In a sense. Well...eh..." Jeffrey makes a full roll of his shoulders when he shrugs this time, turning his lip down in a concerned frown. "...well sort of. Crazy is as crazy does. You're right--- I don't hide myself. I don't even think that I can anymore. But it's prrrooobbably best not to set off every idiot for a mile, you know what I mean? Like, ****, that blue deer guy reacted in like..." He held up four fingers and grinned. "Four flipping seconds! Four! Anyway..."
"So just how'd you even know him?" Jeffrey says while turning his whole body more toward Sorin. "Is it...juicy?" That last word is said with a twinge of genuine interest, and of course playful gossip-mongering. The man got far just by knowing people well.
That's when he hears a strange sound in his mind. He pulls up his posture a little bit and ****s his head to the right. "Say, uhh..." He spins around the index finger of his right hand and points over his head. "Didja hear that? Some really weird chick, outside. Saying hi? Am I hallucinating? I thought I couldn't do that to me."
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Mar sighs and walks over to Nepek, folding his arms behind his back and peering down at him. The Hork'Bajir still seems a bit delirious as far as he can tell. His eyes are unfocused and vague, although his breathing seems to have leveled out for a being that had almost died. Mar puts his hand on the table and then looks over at Al for a second with a "This is all I've got" shrug.
"Can you hear me?" Mar says firmly and with no hint of slurred or fast speech. <It's okay if you can't speak. If you can hear either of my two voices move your left thumb. Focus on my voice. Try to make your mind think.> He taps his finger repeatedly on the table. The Hork'Bajir was likely better off in his healing process if he was able to wake up. Delirium had its advantages, but Mar imagined the Hork'Bajir did need slightly more alertness than this.
-
"Mm," Yeden says with a nod. "It is interesting how pervasive they're becoming. I suppose they do have a numbers advantage, though I'm still not entirely sold on them." He flexes his fingers experimentally.
He smiles at Keshin. "I'm sure I could share a few interesting tidbits," he says. "Though first I'd rather like to hear more about how you manage to surive on your own. It has to be...difficult."
The Andalite breaks her stillness, stepping towards the strange structure in front of her. She looks uncertain, until her main eyes land on one of the ships. It's like no ship she's seen before, but there is something distinctly familiar about it. Andalite.
<Hello?> she says again, with more determination as she steps closer to the ship. <Is anyone there?>
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Ossanlin glances at Mar. <<Yes...it is...unsettling. Perhaps you would be able to provide me with some insights later.>>
He pauses, his main eyes moving back to Salem. He squints a bit, his gaze sharpening to a razor's edge. With the irritation and stress of the current situation, he'd spoken out of turn regarding Sector Seven. It's unlikely this particular Salem knows much beyond the organization's intelligence cover...but Salem being Salem would've picked up on the obvious queue. <It's hardly my business to look into the affairs of a simple intelligence-monitoring agency. They do their job well enough.> He pauses...perhaps giving the 'trader' a nugget involving the Homeworld would distract him from the untimely SS name drop. <I've not been back to the Homeworld in some time...the life of a Dome Ship Captain and all. But from what I've heard, it's much the same. Yeerks are the root of all evil. The Yeerks must be eradicated. The Andalites are experiencing resounding victories. The Andalites have all but won the war, just a bit longer...all those lovely propaganda themes ingrained so deeply into the population's psyche.>
He falls silent once again as a faint thought-speak voice pierces his head. And then again, stronger. It's obviously female, though little more is perceptible. The simple assumption would be yet another Andalite, though of course thought-speech is hardly completely unique to Andalites anymore. He moves to the Mirage's Flight Deck and commands the viewscreen on, trying to focus in upon the voice's location. The viewer clearly shows a young, female Andalite. Ossanlin furrows his brow as he begins a database search on the girl's identity. He returns to the med-bay, glancing back again at Mar and Salem. At the same time he directs a private thought in the female Andalite's direction. <<Yes, there are people here. State your business.>>
-
The Andalite's tail arches in surprise at the response. Despite her hopes, she hadn't actually expected anyone to be within the ship. She wasn't one to believe in ill-luck, but recent events had tested that opinion.
<Sir,> she says, using open thought-speak as she steps towards the ship, close enough to be heard clearly, but not near enough to board. <I require assistance. The ship I was on crashed. The crew...> She trails off, then straightens, quietly chiding herself for the wave of emotion that threatens to override her at the memory of the crash. Of waking up in a cabin filled with blue blood and acrid smoke.
<I don't know where I am,> she says. <Please, could you assist me?>
-
Keshin glances sharply over at Yeden, and then returns to pretending to intently stare into the food on the table. He pauses. He doesn't know why the Councilor is asking this, and that fact alone bothers him.
<He could just be curious, Kess.>
<...yes, and probably that's all, but the man would have encountered hundreds of freelancers by now.>
"With great difficulty," Keshin finally says, with a slow smile. "Part of our requests to each of our clients is, you could say, 'a go' at their portable Yeerk pools and Kandrona supplies. When the clientele aren't as quick to appear..." Keshin's shoulders move up and around in an exaggerated shrug. "...you could say that we have our ways of getting access to food and resources." Those "ways" largely included stealing. Keshin imagined that the Councilor wouldn't particularly care about that. "Why do you ask?" It was better not to mention their chief expense.
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<<I'd be glad to,>> Mar thinks warmly in response. Mar then looks up as Ossanlin notifies him to the presence of a stranger attempting thought speak communication with the ship. The voice read to Mar as "Andalite," but with a slight tinge to it he didn't exactly recognize. Mar nods at Ossanlin and tries to wrack his brain for where he's heard it, and then it comes to him. Ah. Female. Efaen. That's it. The stranger is a girl.
Mar waits to see what the War-Prince will do.
-
Al turns at the sound of the thought-speak voice from outside. He wanders after Ossanlin, trailing at a respectful distance, and watches as Ossanlin begins doing something with the computer. Database search, maybe?
"She sounds troubled," he says to no one in particular, then nods sagely, as though he's just said something remarkably profound.
Salem, in the meantime, sighs and looks into the hole torn in the injured Seer. The network of blood vessels in there... and the slowly, slowly healing flesh around the outer edge... it's a transfixing scene. Blood pulses, in a slow rhythm, through what appears to be empty air. Life, where life should not be. Motion, when all motion should be naturally stilled...
He shakes his head. This is sort of the scene he's been hoping to avoid with Ossanlin. Distractions abound and it seems everyone needs the War-Prince's ear. It's always been this way with the War-Prince, though, so he supposes it shouldn't be that surprising.
And this, now, the Andalite's response... is Ossanlin being honest? Or is this the song-and-dance being played out by a member of Sector Seven... or whatever shadow organization they serve as a front for? His instinct tells him that Ossanlin is as honest an Andalite as he's likely to find... but if he's wrong on that count, revealing too much information to the War-Prince could lead to so much worse than just his own death. And if anyone else has connections he's unaware of...
He rubs his forehead, and pushes down the concerns of the headache that's developed since Al's heavy use of his implant. <<Something has changed, recently,>> he says, directing his thought-speak only towards Ossanlin. <<A subtle shift in the propaganda spread on the homeworld. A slow, steady tweak in the way the war is portrayed. And my... my sources lead me to believe that there's... more to it than that.>> He moves to where he can actually see Ossanlin's back, and catches one of the War-Prince's stalk eyes. He smirks. <<There's another factor in play. Something that wasn't there before. Something that might mean the end of the war...>> He trails off, trying to gauge Ossanlin's reaction.
-
Ossanlin nods to Mar and gives Salem an odd look. <<I assure you, the war is as far from over as it has ever been, despite what the propaganda says. I would urge you not to trust Andalite public records if I thought it was any of your business...and that you weren't intelligent enough to rise above it already.>> He adds grudgingly.
With that, he descends the ramp, searching the outside landscape with his main eyes, looking for the owner of the thought-speech voice. <You are on a planetoid inhabiting a quantum-dimensional plane.> Finally his eyes catch sight of the female. <Where is your ship?>
-
Mar waits at the top of the ramp for Ossanlin, listening as he makes a broadcast attempt to the stranger. Somehow it does not seem terribly likely that the lady actually has a ship. There is more than one way to reach this place, after all.
-
Al wanders to the top of the ship's ramp, his posture an exaggerated slouch that's completely at odds with his classy suit. He stands beside Mar, though perhaps not as closely as he'd stand to most people. When he spots the Andalite newcomer, he favors her with a goofy grin and a wave. "'Sup?" He shoots Mar a sidelong look and casually says, in a melodramatically haughty tone, "I'm a bit of a social ambassador."
Salem smiles to himself and slowly trails in Ossanlin's wake, still staying out of sight of whatever new Andalite has found her way here- he comes to a stop staring at Al and Mar, framed in the hatchway. <<That's true, from a strategic standpoint. Neither side is any more likely to be defeated now than they have been for years. I'm talking about a cessation of hostilities.>> He hesitates, then swallows. There's a lot of detail to go into, but he's still not convinced Ossanlin is a... safe resource. He'll see what the War-Prince makes of this little tidbit.
-
Ossanlin spares a stalk-eye for Mar, Al, and Salem as he waits for the female to respond. His main eyes arch a bit as Salem speaks of a "cessation." Inside, he wants to burst out laughing at the sheer madness of that suggestion, but the eye-twitch is the only visible reaction. Salem surely isn't stupid enough to think that the Andalites would simply stop and allow the Yeerks to run rampant. Such attrition would lead only to one end...the enslavement and destruction of the galaxy, Andalites included. The Yeerks, for their part, are certainly no-more-likely to stop as they push ever outward, gobbling up planets and species as they go. Which means that Salem is likely spinning a tale for some purpose...whether to try and dislodge information, or to try and throw Ossanlin off-guard...or for some other purpose entirely. The man is nothing but ulterior motives.
<<This is all very entertaining, Salem...however, I would appreciate it if we moved past the mind-games and on to the true thrust of your verbal web.>> His tone clearly demonstrates that he doesn't believe a word of what the trader is saying.
-
Mar rolls his eyes as soon as Al comes into view and introduces himself to their new arrival. "Always have to be the center of attention, don't you Android? And you would think that of all people I would be attempting to acquire that honor." But he wasn't, and he doubt he had more than once in his time in this place. It was funny how things turned out.
"This idiot is more of a Fool than a social ambassador, although you could say on an ancestral level we actually share that distinction," says Mar, making a bit of a sweeping bow. "I go by plenty of names, milady, but my favorite for this setting happens to be Sanskrit. Mar. Now.." Mar pauses, and then sends a thought out to the Andalite. <How exactly did you come by this place?>
-
Myitt sits back on the ground next to the ship, shaving bits of metal off of a larger plank of the stuff with a knife.
"Depends on the kind of plexi you're offering," she murmurs to Guppy, accentuating each other word with a slice of the blade. "You know anything about weapons-grade plexi? Like, the kind they make Yeerkish viewports out of? We could try it for the lenses, if not, I'll have to peel off the eyeballs of this Bug." She grins up at the fighter that sits hunkered above and next to them.
Then she leans down to the metal, shaping it into a sort of frame, like welding goggles. "Gimme...just a...sec," she grunts, and the living metal folds into place as she works with it. "Don't want any sharp edges taking an ear off."
Jorek sips his drink and watches the exchange between Yeden and Keshin, with a calm, neutral expression.
He finally says, "You know, from what I've heard about you, you've got some remarkable...abilit ies. Even super-human abilities." His light eyebrows raise, boyish cheeks dimpled in a grin. "The Empire could use someone like you, on its side, more often than not."
-
"Oh, just curious," Yeden says with an easy shrug. "I've always been fascinated by those who choose to live on the fringes. It's such a...interesting direction to choose."
He's about to continue, but Jorek interrupts. Tilting his head to the side, he regards Keshin with even more curiosity. "Super-human?" he echoes. "Like in X-men?" He pulls the reference from his host's mind with a quiet laugh.
The Andalite stands stock still as the ship reveals not just an Andalite occupant, but several who are entirely alien to her. Her hearts, which were finally beginning to slow to their normal pace, jump in alarm, though her expression reveals nothing.
<The ship I was on,> she says, shaking herself from her reverie to respond to Ossanlin's question. <It's to the north, about...> she trails off uncertainly. <Well, about a two hour trot. I couldn't move much faster than that,> she says, guesturing back at her flank. It sports a long line of blue-black blood. It has started to clot in places, but the constant movement has kept it from healing entirely.
<The crew, sir,> she continues, polite despite her shakiness. <They're all dead.> As she speaks, her main eyes remain on Ossanlin. While her stalk eyes should be scanning for danger, she's unable to stop staring at the humanoids accompanying Ossanlin.
-
Keshin raises an eyebrow and stops sipping from a glass of water the bartender provided. "...and where exactly did you hear that bizarre bit of inflamed rumor? Skillful I might be, but my host has what, superpowers? Spectacularly unlikely, wouldn't you say?"
Keshin stirs a finger in the glass of water and then takes another long gulp. "What my host definitely is, gentleman, is very sick. Sick enough that we need constant infusions of a specific sort of mitochondrial reaction regulating medication and sarcoma and lymphoma management medications to survive. I maintain our independence from all parties because being dominated by anyone in this war could ultimately get both of us killed. After all..." He gave Jorek a knowing look. "...if we were to receive it all from one source, what exactly do you think would happen if we failed?"
"So..." Keshin nods at Yeden. "That, and what you would call an unnatural attachment to my constant companion, is the reason for my particular choice to live on the edge. Of all borders, and of all allegiances."
-
Yeden snorts. "Seems like an awfully high price, just to keep a defective host alive," he says. "If she is sick, why not dispose of her and find another?" He looks Joanne up and down with the air of someone observing meat on a rack. "She isn't particularly impressive, physically. I'm certain you could find a host more suitable to your brand of work. As for any unnatural attachment...well I would expect nothing less from a Yeerk who chooses to spend all his time alone, with only his host for company. We're a social species. Your self-imposed isolation is sure to lead you to seek out...odd companionship."
Shrugging, Yedeen sets down his fork and finally abandons his food--though there are still piles of it waiting to be eaten. "Any attachment you have would likely be remedied with time. The healthiest course of action would be to sever ties immediately."
-
Ossanlin notes the female's reaction to those around him and he frowns a bit. He knows they are simply curious and mean no harm, but she doesn't...and it would seem alarming to most Andalites to see a fellow Andalite keeping company with so many humanoids. He steps forward from them, putting a bit of distance between himself and his companions, and commands his ARC to scan the female, a dim, translucent holographic light flashing over his left eye. The scan shows some contusions and minor lacerations beneath her fur, as well as a few potential hairline fractures in her bones. The ARC is hardly a medical scanner, so there is little certainty about those. But he doesn't need the ARC to see the large gash on her flank. He notes the lack of a utility belt...perhaps she'd lost it in her ship's crash, or perhaps she wasn't a member of the military, odd as that would be. Nearly everyone who left the Homeworld was a sworn initiate of the honorable Andalite navy.
<Please attempt to remain calm. Let's start off with your name and rank. And after that, you can explain why you haven't morphed to heal your injuries.> Though calm and reserved, Ossanlin's tone of thought is clearly one of command...and from her actions and demeanor, he very much doubts that this female is an officer.
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Jorek watches Keshin explain himself, arms crossed, still smiling.
Then he listens patiently as Yeden offers up a solution.
"You know, as much as I'm loathe to admit it, my compatriot here is correct," he says lightly, regarding Joanne. "If there's no real benefit to the creature, you really should dispose of her."
He tilts his head, adding conversationally, "Or is there something you aren't telling us?"
-
<Ardania-Soorlin-Naviel,> she responds. She seems to relax a little when Ossanlin steps forward, his commanding tone seeming to put her at ease. <You're referring to a military rank, yes?> Her stalk eyes move in the Andalite equivalent of a head shake. <I am a civilian,> she says. <I work as a xenobiologist--at least, I am training to do so.>
She tears her stalk eyes away from the humanoids, realizing she's lost a sense of her full surroundings. <Sir, did...did you say we are currently within a quantum-dimensional plane?> Her main eyes narrow slightly as she takes in Ossanlin's appearance. Then she blinks rapidly, standing up straighter, though her injury makes her wince. <I apologize, but...are you...?> She trails off, not certain she wants to voice her suspicion.
-
<A civilian...> Ossanlin furrows his brow a bit. It wasn't safe for civilians to leave the Homeworld without at least some sort of exo training. <Then you've not received morph-capabilities?> He spares a stalk eye for his companions before walking a bit closer. <Yes, Ardania. We are currently within a quantum-dimensional plane. Multiple universes converge and cross at this point.> He pauses a moment before continuing. <At the heart of this place is a being of...incredible...p ower. But we can discuss that later.>
<I would offer you the services of my med-bay, unfortunately it's currently occupied and at processing capacity. My ARC indicates potential hairline fractures in several bones as well as multiple contusions and lacerations. Not to mention the obvious.> He indicates Ardania's most-obvious injury, the gash in her flank. <My apologies, I am War-Prince Ossanlin-Rethin-Sephirel.> He gestures toward the Mirage. <It's unclear when my med-bay will be available again, but the facilities, such as they are, will be yours as soon as it is possible.>
-
Keshin's mind boils with anger as Yeden speaks, both Joanne's and his own, and he tenses her fist to prevent himself from acting out. Joanne's eyes suddenly appear to be the wrong color, too bright, about half a second, and a couple of split ends and frazzled bits of hair stand on end. Keshin closes his eyes immediately and sighs sharply. <<No. It's not worth it. It's not. They could kill us. In seconds. Even with our accursed "gift," and you know how badly a discharge could throw us off.>>
<<....yeah. ...no ****.>>
Keshin opens his eyes. "I don't appreciate the comments, although I understand your concerns well enough. I excel in negotiations and subterfuge, not necessarily in fighting," he says almost casually. "My host is actually well-suited to this purpose, although the smaller physique of human women might suggest otherwise. Not only that, but I find more value in her than in any fellow kin I have yet met."
Keshin smiles very slightly at this. "Think about it. We inhabit a very cruel world, sirs, where everyone is being used towards everyone else's advantage without room for genuine allies. We treat the one species who has members so broken they might be willing to let another species run their lives as if they were cattle. The reality is that they are excellent pawns, with a self-defeating, self-sacrificing ethic that makes them ideal soldiers. They also have incredible genetic potential. Tell me..."
Keshin looks between both of them. "...you both have human hosts. You know what I am talking about. How in the world has the Council not exploited it for everything it is worth? Exposed our true reason for making contact with individual humans instead of making do with the ridiculous deception we have on Earth? Symbiotic Controllers with willing hosts, more loyal to the Empire than any human government, could easily overtake the Andalite military. As for whether I'm hiding anything..."
Keshin shrugs a bit. "...you would have to make it worth our while to reveal it. I am currently considering a large number of options."
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Mar listens to the exchange between the two Andalites with interest. The young Andalite sounds nothing like Efaen, the other female he had seen. Why, she sounded just like a young girl--- lost and alone.
He bowed. "Madam, I can't speak to anyone else, but you would be in good hands with the War-Prince here. And if you would be at all interested in a stranger's aid, I shall be happy to provide it. As for the Bar and its Highest, you should ensure that you stay out of any disputes. The chancel's holder enjoys watching fights, I believe."
-
Ardania stares with all four eyes, her stalks suddenly finding the War-Prince infinitely more fascinating. <The War-Prince Ossanlin-Rethn-Sephirel?> she asks. Her thought-speak edges towards incredulous.
She shakes off her awe. <I...no, I did not receive morph-capabilities. I would be grateful for any medical assistance you could provide, though it is not urgent. Sir.>
One stalk eye jerks back in the direction of the humanoid. She doesn't respond directly to him, though her head ****s slightly and she can't hide the look of intense interest that crosses her face at the proximity of such alien beings.
Yeden's lips curl up in amusement at Keshin's obvious anger, though if he notices anything odd, he doesn't seem to care. His smile turns thoughtful at his words.
"Admittedly," he says, "I have only had this host for a few cycles, so I have yet to fully experiment with it. However, what you're speaking of is absurd. Not only would it take an extreme amount of time and retraining of our lieutenants, but it would immediately draw the ire of the Andalite militia." He rolls his eyes at that. "Far better we deal with those grass-eating fools first before we discuss such notions."
-
When Mar accuses Al of always needing to be the center of attention, Al gasps melodramatically, hand to his chest. "Center of attention? Moi? Why, I never..." he pauses and squints at the palm of his hand, as though reading something written there. "...Er... I mean... I always." He smiles sheepishly and shrugs. "It's a big part of what I was built to do. 'We can't change who we are,' is a false thing I often hear organics say, and I've tried to live my life by that philosophy ever since..." he looks down at his watch-free wrist, "...about two seconds ago."
When the Andalite speaks of the deaths of her crewmates, he swallows and shuts up, letting Ossanlin take the lead. After a bit, he clears his throat. "Hey, Ossanlin, Ardania, I can offer some basic medical help." He puts on a thick Scottish accent and gestures back into the ship. "I brough' me bag an' everything." He looks at the newcomer and drops the accent. "If you're okay with that."
Salem actually laughs out loud in response to Ossanlin's words, earning himself a funny look from Al. He leans against one of the bulkheads near the hatch of the Mirage, still out of sight of the newcomer Andalite. A civilian, apparently. Interesting. He's probably made the right choice by staying out of sight for now- not that it matters with Al and Mar trying to have a conversation with her. But in his admittedly-limited experience with Andalite civilians, anything that doesn't fit the propaganda on which they've been brought up can be a bit of a shock. Granted, this appears to be a scientist. Once she gets over her skepticism about the bar's... how had Ossanlin put it? Quantum-dimensional nature? Once she accepts that, she's likely to have a field day with this place. He immediately pictures this newcomer as a younger, science-ier version of Amiya, running around and getting excited over every little bit of weirdness this place has to offer. The thought makes him grin.
<<Verbal web,>> he says, his tone light. <<Ossanlin, I think you have a much higher opinion of my ability to manipulate than I do, but I appreciate the sentiment.>> He sighs, his tone becoming darker again. <<What I could use, War-Prince, is your help with... with at least one very specific thing. It's help that I doubt you'd be willing to give unless you understand the gravity of the situation.>> He swallows. Screw it. <<I believe I have evidence that... at least some of Sector Seven is moving to pull the military out of the war, and to leave the rest of the galaxy to fend for themselves against the Yeerks.>>
-
A bizarre craft, clearly not Andalite nor Yeerk in design, drifted slowly down through the atmosphere of the asteroid that held the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar. The hovering object was barely even a ship, really. Just a flat square platform, about twenty feet across, supported at the corners by the four parallelogram-sided blocks which were its engines. The whole thing seemed to be made of brightly-colored plastic, in haphazard rectangular patterns of many different colors, with the sole exception of a silver dome, about ten feet across, that rose out of the back of the main platform. This dome's smooth metallic surface was a stark contrast with the gaudy colors and sharp edges of the rest of the ship. But, for the most part, the only thing between the craft's sole inhabitant and the vacuum of space was a barely blue-tinted force field, which flickered off as soon as the ship touched down upon the pavement of the Bar's parking lot.
A lone Iskoort walked down from the ship, carrying a bulging blue cloth satchel nestled under the third elbow of his right arm. In his clawed and tentacle-like hands he held a device that looked like a small computer, except that there was a bronze rod going horizontally through the monitor, and both ends of this rod held glass orbs, each of which was about half the size of the 'computer' part. The Iskoort gripped the device by these orbs as he intently studied the screen in the middle.
His build was tall for an Iskoort, but slight, almost fragile or whimsical-looking compared to the average Iskoort (if there were such a thing as an 'average' Iskoort). His stalk eyes were relatively huge for his vulture-like face, giving him a perpetual expression of rapt attention. Those familiar with his species, and the physiology of their various castes, would have recognized him as an Iskoort of the Superstition and Magic Guild.
He looked up from the screen, but did not put down the odd crystal-ball-computer-device, as he walked towards the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar through the mostly-derelict shipyard, loping along across the gravel in his awkward-looking backwards-kneeling Iskoort way. He glanced in passing at another parked spacecraft which seemed to have at least two other species of alien around and within it, at least that the Iskoort could see. He wore an enthusiastically curious expression as he looked at them, as if part of him sorely wished he could stay and talk to the fascinating strangers. But it seemed that the Iskoort had more important business elsewhere, and so he reluctantly hurried on by.
He had to drop his strange device to his side for just a moment in order to open the door to the Bar, but as soon as he had done so, he brought the device back up, grasping it protectively with both hands again. As he entered the Bar, the soft but slightly grating wheeze of his accordion-like diaphragm rose slightly in pitch with anticipation, and he announced in public thought-speak, <Greetings! I am Truth Seeker, Grub of Soul Caller, brother of Name Collector. I am here to certify that this establishment is free of the spirits of fictional characters.>
-
Myitt watches the strange ship motor its way down to the docking yard, all of her attention lost on the metal that sits in her lap, as she herself sits cross-legged in front of the Bug Fighter.
"What the hell is that?" she says, half to Guppy, and half to herself, staring as the Iskoort moves past them, staring right back at them.
Jorek is about to offer a retort to Yeden and Keshin, when he's interrupted by the strange creature at the door, who bellows in thought-speech.
"My word," he murmurs, eyeing the Iskoort. "Now there's something you don't see every day."
-
Ossanlin glances at Al with a stalk-eye. <I'm afraid that without the med-bay the best I can personally offer you is field medicine...I could seal the wound and give you an antibiotic...that's about it.> He glances again at Al, this time with his main eyes. <My...friend...is an artificially intelligent humanoid robot. He might be able to offer you better treatment, though that is completely up to your own discretion.>
He shakes his head a bit, directing his main eyes back at Ardania. <I'm sure that whatever you've heard about me is greatly-exaggerated.> He falls silent as he watches a strange alien run by. The thing seems to tickle at his memory, but ultimately he comes up drawing a blank. Very odd indeed.
To Salem, he sends a private thought. <<What good would a manipulator be if he revealed his talent for manipulation? At any rate, at the risk of sounding rude...what is it the humans say? Bovine excrement?>> He pauses, showing nothing in his facial expressions. <<At any rate, the war is one of Sector Seven's most powerful tools. Without it...with seclusion, the propaganda loses its impact, and their most-effective measure of control loses its bite. Not to mention the implications...ther e would be civil unrest in such a situation. Honor is very important to Andalites, unlike some...>> He pauses pointedly for effect before continuing. <<Withdrawing from the war would be seen as an abandonment of honor...of the very character of our species. I can assure you that Sector Seven has nothing to gain and everything to lose by withdrawing from the war. So excuse me if I find your 'intelligence' to be suspect.>> In the context, the word "intelligence" likely refers to Salem's 'evidence,' but Ossanlin's tone suggests that there may be more than one implication to his last phrase.
-
Keshin smirks slightly. "And in your book, drawing the ire of the Andalite militia is a problem? Your Eminence, our entire race has drawn the Andalite militia's ire for at least the next half century. A change in infiltration tactics is not going to make that much better or worse than the festering bog pit that it is. Unless..." Keshin gets a slightly more interested expression on his face. "...by chance you're talking about it in the United States' sense of that word...and that odd rumor making its way across Earthbound fuel depots?"
Keshin, of course, was referencing an odd (and juicy) bit of information that Keshin generally took with a grain of salt: that a ship's worth of stranded Andalites were engaging in guerrilla warfare against the Imperial invasion force on Earth. Keshin and Joanne had left the planet a few years before the rumor had started getting interesting, so they didn't know much about it on the whole. It was possible that the the Councillor did though, which was worthy of further probing at least. "I had always assumed that that was a...pardon my English, but a load of bullocks. Are you simply the type to believe in obscure rumors, or is there some kind of confirma---"
Keshin suddenly stopped speaking as the oddest thought speech voice he'd ever heard broadcasted spontaneously through his head. He gave the two Councilors a quizzical look, and then said, "...should we...check it out?"
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Jeffrey sits up suddenly with an incredulous expression. The...thing...that had just walked in was somehow, if anything, more bizarre than anyone he'd met so far, and that was really saying something. Jeffrey stands up and saunters over to the creature, staring openly at him. "...the **** are you supposed to be? You look like the back end of a condor and the front end got thrown into a blender with an accordion! My god was the Drake equation off. And uhhh, sorry to disappoint you, but Batman and Superman and that sorta thing are like, nowhere around here. Disappointing, I know. This place could use a bit more crazy."
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"You were actually constructed to draw inordinate amounts of attention to yourself?" Mar says to Al quizzically. "I mean that explains...a lot...but why? I mean no offense, but most people tend to desire robots that are inconspicuous. Helper types." Mar shrugs.
He then turns back to the young Andalite that Ossanlin was speaking with, listening carefully to their conversation. Mar raises an eyebrow as Ossanlin tries to disclaim his fame. "From what I've heard and seen, War-Prince, whatever they might say about you could hardly be more exaggerated than the real thing." He then gives Ardania a pleasant smile and sends along a brief fraction of his aura and a thought speech statement to test the waters. It would register as slightly condescending and suffocating to most people, but with a strong tinge of security and warmth added. <<By the way, if it makes you more comfortable, it appears as though I am fluent in a more...natural form of speech this time. >>
-
Truth Seeker backed up a step as a possibly hostile alien strode towards him. It took a couple moments for his translator chip to make sense of the new language, but the linguistic structure was simple enough, and so he was able to understand almost everything after the phrase 'sorry to disappoint you.' The translator didn't have translations for 'Batman' or 'Superman,' though. Names, perhaps? Names weren't usually translated by the chip. But why was this alien saying that the two named individuals weren't here? Truth Seeker had not asked about- oh! Suddenly, it hit him what the alien must have meant.
<This 'Batman' and 'Superman,' they are fictional characters in your society?> Truth Seeker inquired, barely able to contain his excitement. Here was a chance to learn about an alien culture! To learn of new myths and legends! <I am not searching specifically for either of them in particular, but would you mind telling me more about them?>
Truth Seeker had glanced down at his crystal-ball-computer device as he spoke, his gaze wandering over the screen just long enough to suggest that something might be amiss with what he saw. But, after a very brief confused expression, he shook his head slightly, seeming to brush it off as his imagination, and turned his attention back to Jeffrey.
If anybody was at the correct angle to see the screen of the Iskoort's device, called a 'Cons-fi Reader,' they would see a video feed of the Bar, as seen from a camera on the front of the device. Around each patron was a halo of indigo light, representing their 'consciousness field.' Jeffrey's field was slightly brighter than the others, with thin tendrils snaking from the main glow, and the three Yeerkish patrons each had two fainter glows, mostly but not quite perfectly overlapping one another. Truth Seeker had noticed none of this, since he was in the habit of simply disregarding the data from 'non-fictional' entities.
However, there were also several hazy shapes of the same indigo light, many of them gathered around the Bar's bookshelf, that didn't seem to be associated with anything that could be seen with the naked eye. They were fuzzy like television static, and faint enough that they could be interpreted as some kind of interference that the device was picking up. But, somehow, these indistinct glowing shapes darted about, almost ominously, flitting between shadows, like predators waiting in the dark. A few of them had stopped moving, almost as if they were watching Truth Seeker. As if they knew that he could see them, and they didn't like being seen . . .
-
Yeden scoffs. "The Andalites have focused the vast majority of their firepower on false leads and presumptions...some thing they are rather good at. The moment they think an open war is imminent, they will--"
He cuts off, interrupted by thought-speak. His immediate response is to spring to his feet, looking for the Andalite...but no, the thoughts penetrated his mind in the same way as an Andalite, but the tenor was different. His gaze falls on the newest patron of the bar, eyes widening.
"What, by the Kandrona, is that?" he asks, sounding more fascinated than alarmed, though one hand does drift to his holster.
Ardania's main eyes don't leave Ossanlin as he speaks. Despite her obvious exhaustion she regards him with the expression of one meeting a myth or a fairy tale. <I...yes, sir. I will take whatever services are available.> One stalk eye darts to Al, the other to Mar. She hasn't reacted to either of their words, except to shoot them curious, albeit wary, looks. <May I ask what these creatures are, sir?>
Then Mar speaks in her mind and she jumps. <You are capable of thought-speak?> she asks, surprised.
-
Jeffrey threw up his hands in a shrug and said, "Sure, why the hell not?" He grinned. "Don't have anything better to do. So, Batman and Superman are two of the superhero fictional characters that made it through the collapse of my whole society. They were created more than a thousand years before I was even born. Batman's like..." Jeffrey frowned. He had no idea how to convey the idea of 'Batman' to a species that might not even know what humans could do and what antiheroes and Hypers were. "...he's somebody who does Hero stuff without being a Super. Without powers beyond what normal Mundane humans can do. So basically he protects people from bad guys--Villains--- who don't have powers either, and also just regular old thieves and crooks. Where I'm from, what Batman does is called 'being a Hyper,' and strictly speaking it's illegal. People without powers aren't supposed to be heroes or villains."
"Superman, though, he's a pretty standard Hero! Granted, nobody on my whole world has got as many powers as him, we've all got one per customer so to speak, but he's kinda the prototypical example! True blue pure and honest, forms Hero organizations, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound and lift tanks, few weaknesses...all the Heroes probably idolized him and wanted to be him, growing up." Jeffrey points to himself. "Me? I had other ideas."
"See when these guys were invented, there was nobody like them in the world, but in the future? There're tons of us!" Jeffrey laughs. "People with abilities normal humans don't have, y'know? Mind control. Regeneration. The ability to set crap on fire with your mind!" Jeffrey bent down to look at him and said, "...so what's your interest?"
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<Yes, actually,> Mar said to her, with a smile and a nod. He might as well use public, seeing as she had just stated he could use thought speech for all the world to hear and he had no reason to hide it. <Well, this time I am. It was a bit more variable of an ability on my last trip here. You see, I don't normally have a physical body like yours or those of my friends here. I am a non-corporeal, psychologically viral entity of a kind...likely only described in Andalite fairy stories. Essentially, I can implant the idea of me in another's mind. I exist on the plane of mind and spirit-- of energy--- rather than that of matter.> Mar gestures outside the ship. <This place generates my physical form as soon as I enter, thereby limiting the utilization of my abilities to the Master of the chancel's benefit. The creature I am and some here are or are replicating are called humans, by the way. They're not normally capable of thought-speech.>
-
Jorek stares at Keshin, his host's boyish visage the picture of slack-jawed confusion.
He collects himself, clearing his throat. "Don't be ridiculous, I'm not going anywhere near that thing," he says derisively.
The Emperor ignores Keshin's question about the Andalite 'bandits' altogether.
-
<Humans,> Ardania echoes, suddenly looking eager. <I have heard of humans. I expected them to be...taller.> She looks from Mar to Al, finally settling on Mar. She appears to completely ignore his explanation of his true being. <Are you truly incapable of avoiding violence for more than a standard hour? And you have no tail to speak of, despite being bipedal?> She inches closer, as though to peer around to see Mar's backside.
-
Truth Seeker looked at Yeden, the Iskoort having happened to catch the word 'Kandrona' from Yeden's exclamation, even if he didn't seem to notice the hand that had drifted to his holster. Despite the sheer alien-ness of his features, Truth Seeker's emotions were almost comically easy to read in his bug-eyed face, and his look was one of surprised recognition. Yes, he knew that word, but he could think of no reason why anyone other than an Iskoort would know it. Iskoort, or at least the Yoort part of the Iskoort symbiont, required Kandrona for sustenance. But Truth Seeker had never encountered another species that had any relation to the rare type of radiation. No other species had ever even heard of it.
He was quickly distracted from those thoughts, however, by Jeffrey's answer to his query. <I am sorry for the collapse of your society,> the Iskoort said solemnly. Then he looked thoughtful. <Yes, many species have fictional characters of the 'hero' archetype. Beings who protect the weak. But, you mention powers? Your species truly has powers?> He looked fearfully from Jeffrey to the other humans in the Bar. <You can start fires with your thoughts?> Truth Seeker had noted Jeffrey's differentiation between those with powers and 'normal humans,' but he hadn't picked up from context that 'human' referred to Jeffrey's species.
<As for my interest, it is mainly because these characters can sometimes emerge through these stories, from realities beyond this one. Not as physical beings, of course, but as spirits.> The Iskoort shifted his weight back and forth, seeming almost embarrassed, as the whine in his diaphragm reached an uncomfortably high pitch that wavered like nervous laughter. He knew that this was the point where most aliens either believed him, if their species had similar beliefs, or decided that he was insane. <Such spirits can occasionally cause harm to this reality, so they must be exorcised where they appear. Knowing their true natures can sometimes help to either calm or control them.>
This thought reminded Truth Seeker to glance down at his Cons-fi Reader again. He did have a job to do here, after all. He took a couple steps in the general direction of the bookshelf, where most of the spirits seemed to be gathered, but then he stopped, tilting his head quizzically. He had initially tried to tell himself that it must just be the way the dim lighting was reflecting off of the screen, but at this point he could swear that the entirety of the viewfinder was glowing indigo. The same color that represented the consciousness fields the device was designed to detect. The glow, which had appeared as an imperceptible haze when he'd first entered the Bar, was slowly growing brighter. <That isn't possible,> he muttered to himself. For some reason Truth Seeker felt like the Bartender was staring at him, but when he looked up, the strange, silent man was simply polishing a dry glass with a stained towel, looking at nothing in particular.
-
Al watches, bemused, as the accordion-like alien makes its way across the shipyard. "Ahhh," he says, "it's been a long, long time since I've seen a..." He frowns "Polkadon?" He snaps a finger. "Folk-music-ite!" He sighs and heads back into the ship. "Well, I tried."
As he walks by Salem, he holds up a hand for a high-five, which Salem meets absentmindedly. Al continues calling back to Mar even as he walks and gathers up his bag of medical supplies. "I have nothing but respect for you average working bot," he calls, "but some people like their artificial life-forms a little more... lively. I, personally, was designed to assist in fun, entertainment, friendship, fourth-wall breaks and bad puns. I was built as a party machine and a..." he laughs as he steps out next to Mar again, "social ambassador."
When Mar begins thought-speaking openly, Al turns to him and mutters, "Show-off," though his light tone and the grin on his face make it pretty clear he's joking.
He looks over at Ossanlin. "I'm afraid I can't offer much more in the way of field medicine than you can. Disinfectant and a quick patch. But I'm happy to help if I can."
He walks over to Ardania and sets down the bag a respectful distance away. "With your permission, of course." He keeps his voice and his smile gentle. Ardania seems to be holding herself together well so far, but if she's recently witnessed the deaths of her entire crew, there's no telling what emotional state she might be in, and Al has no intention of pushing things. He bends down and begins rummaging through the medical bag. When Ardania mentions the violence of humans, he chuckles. "Heh heh heh. Yeeeaaaahhhh, humans can be short, violent little buggers."
"I heard that!" calls Salem from inside the Mirage, which only makes Al laugh harder. Salem finally steps out into the doorway, where he can see Ardania. A civilian female out in the field. Wonder of wonders. He looks at her with curiosity. He's dying to know how she's ended up out here. He'll have to ask her if he ever gets the opportunity. For the moment, however, all he does is flash her a half-smile and say, "Not all of us are as violent as you've been led to believe. Though, yes, we are tailless bipeds." He rolls his eyes slightly. That, in particular, seems to be a real sticking point among Andalites, and it's a conversation he must have had a hundred times in the past.
He begins thought-speaking to Ossanlin again. <<Now you're catching on,>> he says, with a slight smirk. <<There's no obvious advantage to moving the Andalite military away from conflict. I don't know what the endgame of this movement is. The direction doesn't make sense. There must be a big piece of the puzzle I'm missing. Maybe more than one. I only know what my network has been able to piece together.>> He'll let that last statement stand as something of an insurance policy. If Ossanlin is Sector Seven, there's no way he'll kill Salem without acquiring more information about his 'network.' Or... so Salem hopes.
He sighs. <<There have been shifts in the news feeds and propaganda on the homeworld. There've been reports of the Andalites... losing battles.>> He closes his eyes and rubs his temples. Damn headaches... <<Only a few sporadic reports, but the seeds of doubt are being planted. Maybe you already know, but there's a quiet rumor growing among the troops that the top officials are planning to pull the fleet back to the homeworld. You know as well as I do that a rumor like that would have been remorselessly quashed a year ago. And from what I've seen, the whispers of that rumor are starting to spread among civilians as well.>> his eyes flick to Ardania, then back to Ossanlin. <<I see evidence that certain portions of Andalite strategy, formations, and intelligence are playing right into Yeerk hands. Palps. Whatever. Maybe you can interpret the data, but I believe I have evidence of at least two cases of good Andalite warriors being left to die before Imperial forces in order to spread doubt on the homeworld. I see subtle movements in the fleet that imply a shift towards defense, even as the they increase the number of scouting parties too small to defend themselves. It's only a subtle shift so far, but it is definitely happening.>>
He pauses and swallows. <<And... I believe my intelligence has uncovered the Andalites responsible for this shift.>> He swallows. <<Or at least some of the major players. But this is too big and too deep for me to handle all on my lonesome.>> He stares at Ossanlin, intending to do that 'stern judgmental look' thing that Al does so well, but Salem gets the feeling he's just coming across as tired.
-
<Mar is right, these creatures are, or resemble, the human species from the M-Class planet they call 'Earth.'>
Ossanlin gestures at Al. <Like I said, he's actually a robot with a sophisticated holographic projection, but he's generally not...well...unscru pulous like his traveling partner.> Ossanlin spares a stalk-eye for Salem.
<<I tire of this game Salem. Whatever you're trying to accomplish with this farce, it's not working. What do you want of me? No fiction...just an answer.>>
-
Ardania's expression is a mixture of fascination and unease as Al approaches, but she doesn't respond to his words. One stalk eye turns to Mar.
<Could you translate for the human-projection?> she asks him. <I'm afraid I do not speak humanese, and my understanding of Galard is rudimentary at best.>
She notes that she is beginning to feel lightheaded, now that the adrenaline of her arrival is wearing off. <Translate quickly, if you could.> Her thought-speak is calm, expression thoughtful. <I believe I may be entering the early stages of either shock or simply profound exhaustion. Considering I've crash-landed on a strange planetoid, lost my crewmates, and come face-to-face with a war-hero...not to mention my first extra-terrestrial creatures...yes, I do believe I may be entering shock.> She smiles with her eyes.
-
In the forest about a quarter of a mile to the north of the Bar, a dinosaur appeared. Simply appeared. One moment nothing but forest, the next moment, dinosaur. The dinosaur was generally tyrannosaurid in size and shape, with that boxy carnivorous face, the tiny arms, the thickly built yet bird-like legs. But its tawny brown body was covered in light-grey-scaled bone nodules, and its tail ended in a bony club. This was not a species of dinosaur that had ever existed at any point in earth's history. It was, in fact, created from a mixture of DNA. Tyrannosaur and ankylosaur blended together.
Danielle, who often went by the nickname 'Dino' these days, looked around, sniffing the air as she took in her surroundings. This was not at all where she had intended to go when she had activated the- wait, hold on, where was the Time Matrix? It should have followed her through space, to, well, wherever this was. She looked around more frantically, not knowing where she was, and scared. <Kiphos? Amanda? Nick? Tukon?> she called out shakily, searching for her friends, who seconds ago had been touching the Time Matrix with her. But she couldn't even pick up their scents at all. Dino swished her clubbed tail anxiously back and forth, taking short panicked breaths as she thought about all the possible implications of the situation she had suddenly found herself in.
Had their casual use of such an ancient and powerful device finally caught up with them? Had the Ellimist seen fit to take back what was his? And, if so . . . what had He done with her friends?!
She turned her head, as her keen nostrils caught a distant scent of humans. Not anyone she knew, but humans nonetheless. Aliens, too. There was at least one scent she didn't recognize, but she knew the smell of Andalites, Hork-bajir, and . . . velociraptors? The velociraptor smell was fairly faint but unmistakable, whereas the human and alien smells were fresher. And there were other smells intermingled with the living ones. Rust. Fuel. Grease. Alcohol.
Dino shook her huge head. <What kind of place is this?> She looked around again, as though hoping the Time Matrix might still be somewhere nearby. For just a moment, her vision darkened, and she suddenly felt weak, her heart seeming to jerk violently in her chest. But within seconds she was fine again, so she shook it off.
She looked again towards the scent of humans and aliens and raptors. Well, that was as good a direction as any, wasn't it? And maybe they could tell her where the hell she was. Yet, she hesitated, wondered whether the people at this place might see her and attack. Humans did not always react well to dinosaurs in their midst. But knowing there were Andalites there too, reassured her. Any humans who would hang around Andalites couldn't be too bad, right? So Dino lumbered towards the smells of people, her footsteps causing tremors in the earth, as birds . . . or something like birds . . . took flight in her wake.
-
In through the door of the bar walked a 6 and a half foot tall man. What stood out about him was that he was like a minotaur, but had horse features instead of those of a bull. His dark mane was cut short, and his tail (if he ever really had one) was absent. He was a chestnut color, and wore knee length pants and a dark red sleeveless shirt. The actual minotaur was behind him. Standing near 7 feet tall, the minotaur was a slightly darker shade of brown. He wore a dark green sleeveless shirt which wore like a vest (the horns made traditional shirts a problem), and dark brown pants. Both were in excellent shape, mostly due to their professions.
"Ladies and....ladies!" announced the horse headed man. "Be still your beating hearts, for the most eligible bachelor in all the realm has returned!"
"Julian, you ass," commented the minotaur, who looked chagrined. "If you get decked by someone I'm not going to stop them."
"This is Morgan," Julian said as he indicated his companion, "and he's available too. What a charmer."
Morgan sighed. "Never mind. I'm going to punch you myself."
(Odysseus Morgan and Julian have returned!!!)
-
Mar startles at this. He has basically never been asked to give an honest depiction of someone else's speech in his life. <Ahahah...well, well of course, milady. I don't think the cultural explanation will be...perfectly equivalent, but I will try. He's just explained that he's an android, and he is, I suppose, a fool. A jester. A comic that draws attention to the absurd. He described himself as a 'social ambassador, but he's really more of a...> Mar makes an exasperated gesture with his hands. <...party trick. Still...>
<He says that he has medical knowledge and that he could help you if you're ill. Not more than Ossanlin can do, but a quick patch-up is within his capability. He also says, I quote, 'Yeah, humans are short, violent little buggers.'> Mar shakes his head. <But don't believe him, he's an idiot. Yes, they don't have tails, and they are more violent than other species, but they do have to possess a justification for violent acts.>
Mar gave her a look of concern and again, that curious warmth. <But...if you're experiencing shock and fear, you should talk to the War-Prince and he may be able to sort things out. Whatever you've been through must have been utterly terrible. Take all the time you need.>
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Keshin watches carefully as Jeffrey goes over to talk to the impossibly weird accordion hellscape creature, and just shakes his head. All of the responses he had had to either Counselor had been shot clear out of his head by that thing's appearance. "I suppose we'll just...get back to our..."
And that was when what was clearly a minotaur and an upper-bodied centaur walked in, and all sense of sanity this place had had fell clean out the window. The minotaur, for some horrifying reason, looked distinctly familiar--- Keshin had actually seen that particular coloration somewhere before. Keshin held up a finger and then crossed the room towards the minotaur.
"Do...do I know...you...?" he says hesitantly, fully aware of how ridiculous that sentence would be in most contexts before it leaves his mouth.
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Jeffrey can't help a bit of a brief, cough-like laugh at what the creepy little alien was describing. Granted, he'd seen a revolving door of bizarre aliens since entering this place. "What, so....you're saying that like, ****ing Daredevil could just walk through the door and decide he wants to light everything on fire, in your belief system? That's...wow, that's special." Jeffrey chuckles with appreciation. "That is absolutely bonkers, little man."
"Still..." Jeffrey says, walking with him a bit, "I mean I come from a place where there are guys with real flipping superpowers, so maybe it's not as cracked as it seems. And nah, it's not everybody. In fact it's only like twelve or twenty percent of the whole population. I don't know the exact number. It's genetic, but nobody gets why, or how it happened. And the ones who have powers--- have all got different powers." Jeffrey's eyes glow vividly yellow, and he smiles at Truth Seeker, and suddenly Truth Seeker feels as if he has shifted very far back in time, because the voice he hears is one he trusts implicitly."This is mine. I can make people believe whatever I tell them."
"Whatcha' lookin' at there?" he says. "The Bartender? That dude creeps me out, man."
-
"It's possible," Morgan replied. "I was here ages ago with a few others. Gaz, Dr. Asda, Fletcher."
"I was here to," Julian added.
"You came later. Shut up." Morgan commented. "Anyway. You look a bit familiar too, come to think of it."
-
Salem's shoulders droop slightly-- though only slightly-- as he descends the ship's ramp and approaches the group gathering around Ardania. He continues his private conversation with Ossanlin, <<What I need from you, War-Prince, is something there's no way you'll be willing to give me if you think I'm only in this for profit, and no way you won't if you feel the insanity... the gravity of this situation.>> He sighs and looks Ossanlin in the eyes. <<I need information on Mark Three Dome Ships. Pretty basic information. Nothing... too compromising. I don't think. Physical layout and computer system framework information.>> He sighs again. <<I have no intention of putting any Andalite lives at risk, but I think a lot of the information I need is stored aboard the... aboard one of the fleet's Mark Threes. If this is what I think it is, I could potentially save a lot of good Andalite lives.>>
He shakes his head. He's being far from convincing, and between his exhaustion and his consistently-worsening headache, he doesn't really feel he's thinking strait anymore. <<I can send you some of the evidence I've found if you want to see this plot for yourself,>> he says lamely.
Al, in the meantime, digs a few more things from the bag as soon as Ardania mentions that she may be going into shock. "I am not," he says haughtily to Mar, "an entertainer." He laughs and looks to Ossanlin, "So we really letting this clown be my spokesman?" he asks, tilting his head to indicate Mar. "He's putting even more words in my mouth than I usually do."
He stands, a number of medical supplies in hand, and winks at Mar. "Kidding, of course. You're doing a... good job. Now translate for me until we get the lady patched up, in case she doesn't understand some of my mouth-words. Oy, Salem!" he calls suddenly, "see if you can figure out where those enormous pounding footfalls are coming from!"
Salem looks at Al, surprised. "Those are footfalls?" He glances around nervously and frowns when he catches sight of the... birds...? taking flight from the woods not far off.
Al continues working. He turns towards Ardania and switches to flawless Galard. "Please lie down. Be calm. Breathe slowly." He moves closer, a small aerosol-looking device grasped in his right hand. "I will treat your wound. This may hurt for a short time. It is safe."
-
Truth Seeker's diaphragm made a deflating sound. He was slightly disappointed, but not really surprised, that Jeffrey indeed thought he was crazy after all. <As I said, they are not physical beings that we can directly perceive,> he said simply. He was still looking down at his device, although now his redirected eye-contact seemed evasive. Tempting though it was, he had learned not to argue with aliens who had such different views of the world than his own. It never worked, and in any case, respect had to be given, before being earned.
The Cons-fi Reader was still steadily growing brighter. It was already bright enough that the additional light obscured the glowing figures near the bookshelf that Truth Seeker had seen earlier. The indigo light, as seen through the screen on the Iskoort's device, seemed to be coming from the walls of the Bar itself. As though every visible surface was covered in the 'consciousness' energy that the Cons-fi Reader was designed to detect.
Truth Seeker looked up again, listening with interest as Jeffrey explained that the powers were a genetic quirk of his species. As an Iskoort, he simply couldn't help but be interested in genetics. Truth Seeker's own physical body was genetically engineered, after all. <A genetic trait that is expressed differently among individuals? That is incredible! How much research has been done on the molecular genetic structures that would make that possible?>
At Jeffrey's words, a wave of familiarity swept over Truth Seeker, as though he was talking to an old and trusted friend. Yes, of course, he had known Jeffrey for a very long time, hadn't he? Long enough to know without doubt that Jeffrey would never, ever, lie to him. Truth Seeker could relax in the knowledge that everything Jeffrey had told him was true. Hmm. So, if Jeffrey had expressed reason to be scornful of Truth Seeker's belief in the spirits of fictional creatures? Well, then, that pragmatic viewpoint must also be taken to heart.
He looked down at his device again, which was now glowing bright enough to light up the Iskoort's features from below with an eerie indigo glow. He frowned. Why, exactly, did he care? It wasn't like the glow necessarily meant anything. Just a meaningless signal, perhaps an electromagnetic phenomenon.
The glass orbs on either side of the Reader started to glow, too, that same soothing indigo aura. Brighter . . . and brighter . . . until it was painful to even look directly at the screen. The orbs were becoming steadily warmer and warmer in his hands until they were uncomfortably hot, but he didn't let go. Nothing could now be seen from the viewfinder, except for that searing bright indigo light.
Then, quite suddenly, with an audible snapping sound, the device went completely dark.
Truth Seeker didn't seem to care.
Truth Seeker looked up from his now-defunct device, only just now noticing the two new creatures that had entered the Bar. Another new species of alien, and this one was dimorphic, it seemed. Yes, they almost had to be the same species. They had entered together, they were similarly colored, and their facial structure seemed almost the same, with one merely having a longer and narrower muzzle than the other. The shorter-muzzled one also had horns, but such decorations were common in dimorphic species.
<Excuse me,> the Iskoort said questioningly to Morgan and Julian. He was still unfamiliar with gender roles in other species, since the Iskoort had only one sex. His gaze lingered on Julian. <I hope I am not being rude, but can you tell me which of you is the female of your species?>
------------------
Dino sniffed the air again, as she drew closer to the scents she had picked up earlier. She hadn't noticed at first, because she wasn't terribly familiar with Andalite smells, but one of the Andalites seemed to be injured. Yeah, that was the smell of Andalite blood, alright. There was a smell of Hork-bajir blood, as well, and although the scent was somewhat faded she could still tell that there had been a lot of blood from that one. Hork-bajir blood, unlike that of an Andalite, was a smell she was unfortunately very familiar with.
She was getting close enough now that there was a very good chance she would be seen, even through the cover of the trees. So she began to 'morph.' Her friend, Kiphos (who had been born in space courtesy of the Skrit Na, and was thus quite gifted with alien technology) had managed to augment an Escafil device in just such a way that she was able to regain morphing powers, even as a nothlit. Well, sort of. She was still not able to change shape, but she was now at least able to change size.
Which is what she did now, focusing on the human DNA inside her and shrinking down to a much less intimidating stature. Within a couple of minutes, she was a dinosaur the size of a person. It made her nervous, intentionally becoming smaller and weaker, but she hoped it would cause her to be seen as less of a threat, and thus less likely to be attacked in the first place. She hoped.
She wished she had a watch, but she hoped she would be able to judge two hours easily enough. This ability of hers was a variant of the morphing technology, so there was no reason to think that the same rules wouldn't apply.
She took a deep breath, blowing the air through her nostrils with a sound like a sigh. She moved through the trees to where she could actually see people. Which meant that they would be able to see her, if they were looking in her direction, although there was still a few sparse trees between her and them. She saw humans and Andalites, gathered around a ship, and it was from this ship that most of the Hork-bajir smell was coming, although she didn't see the Hork-bajir in question.
<Hey,> she said tentatively in public thought-speak, just loud enough to get their attention while hopefully being as non-threatening as possible. <I, uh, hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if anyone could tell me where I am?>
-
Ardania listens to Mar's explanation, a puzzled look on her face. <Why would someone build an android for entertainment purposes? Does it serve to amuse children?>
Her question is interrupted by Al himself, when he approaches. She stiffens slightly, but his switch to Galard--or perhaps her encroaching lightheadedness--seems to calm her. <You speak Galard,> she acknowledges. <I...admit I am a poor interpreter of the language. I do not have a translator chip and only just began teaching myself. But if you speak slowly I am certain I can decipher your meaning.> She pauses, then adds. <Translator chips are only given to military personnel. It would be nice to understand any language. Think of how it would augment my studies! And I could...oh. I'm babbling, aren't I?> She blinks her main eyes slowly, realizing that her thoughts were getting away from her. Focus, she chides herself.
<Yes, medical help would be appreciated, Android Entertainer, if it is within your capabilities.>
-
"I thought so," Keshin says warily, trying to look directly at the minotaur but ultimately giving him only sideways eye contact. It was awkward. Keshin had no idea why he would know a minotaur, but he definitely had heard those names before. "You look familiar too. If memory serves, you guys got in a lot of trouble."
<<That's about as much as we know, ain't it?>>
<<Yes.>>
"That said, we'd be happy to talk," Keshin says. "Find out more about you. That sort of thing. How are you familiar with the Bar?"
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<Humans are an escapist species by nature,> Mar says with a slight bow. <Like Andalites, but much more so, as humans often have dull and unpleasant lives. Stories and fantasy worlds allow them to make sense of the world and their place in it. Humans turn against and regularly fight other humans, and there is no species-wide government or social system. This greatly necessitates the need for escapism, as the government does not provide all the purpose and fulfillment adult humans need. Neither do they have anything on the scale of your Great War to unite them. And so they dream of false worlds and fantasies to sate that lust. They even dream of one that occurs between Highest. And it is from that dream that I rise!>> He makes a slight bow. <I like to see myself as the embodiment of that longing, in many ways, milady. And by extension, so indeed is Al. He is a way for humans to find pleasure and recreation, among many other things.>
Mar twitches as he suddenly catches a strange thought speech line from a short distance away, along with a notably odd aura that he hasn't detected before. It's definitely sentient, and within the mortal coil, but what else it might be he's not certain of. Not human, of anywhere in the Tree, and so by extension not my problem, no? Although I have had something of an investment in outsiders, as well, ever since the Yeerk-Andalite War encroached on my territory. <You're on the asteroid that contains the Chancel of a Highest of unknown provenance,> Mar responds dutifully. <Highest as in "a god." We call Him the Bartender. The building is His, and we call it the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar. It seems as though anyone from any point in Time and Space can reach it, and from any universe in Yggdrasil. It also makes manifest the non-corporeal, excepting the dominant Highest. Does all of that more or less make sense, minus the superfluous details from me?>> Mar was beginning to realize that most of what he said, even in thought-speech, didn't really make much sense to mortals.
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"Uhhh, quite a bit actually, but I don't know a whole lot about it," Jeffrey says, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. He was a pretty skilled chemist so far as making concentrated serums and poisons went, but his knowledge of the changes to the human genome that had occurred since the Cataclysm were less than encyclopedic. "I know that the whole thing happened 'cause the Sun went flipping weird and got super radioactive, and that changed the genes of the survivors in a big way, but the details aren't hugely important for showbiz." Jeffrey shrugs and grins.
His grin gets a little bit wider when he sees that his twisted little set of powers are indeed affecting the creepy little accordion alien. Haha, no way. I'll have to take this little feature into account later. The **** blue deer only seemed to hesitate for like, what, five seconds? But this guy is gullible as ****, apparently! Jeffrey follows the creature, noting that his device seems to be reacting oddly to the Bar. Jeffrey wasn't sure what it was supposed to detect, other than fictional characters, but it was detecting a lot of it.
Jeffrey stops and then gapes for a moment at the two furries in front of him and the alien, clearly the real thing rather than human hobbyists. He points, squints, and then shakes his head and throws up his hands. He looks over at the alien and goes, "Could be, but I honestly think they're two different types. That one looks like a minotaur, and the other guy's got Mr. Ed for a freaking head."
-
Morgan nodded. "Yeah, we did get into some trouble. Hopefully most of that's behind us now. It's been a few years since I was here last, and it looks like some familiar faces from last time aren't here anymore. Not that I was expecting to see them, but it would have been nice. After I left here I got a job as head of security on a space station."
"I was here briefly before as well," Julian said. "Stuck around for a little while after Morgan took off. Then decided it was time for me to go back to travel. Mr. Ed?" Julian got distracted overhearing Jeffrey at the end of his sentence.
-
Ardania hesitates, stalk eyes still watching Al closely. <Yes,> she says to Mar, though the tone of her thoughts betray...not confusion, exactly. Something closer to incredulity. As if she expects him to be lying. <And you are the embodiment of fantasy, then?>
-
As the pounding footsteps draw nearer, Salem's hand inches towards his weapon. He stumbles slightly as he moves closer to the woods. His mind isn't working at its normal speed at the moment, so gauging distances and and the layout of the woods nearby takes more concentration than usual. By the time he decides to pay attention to the incoming footsteps again, he can no longer hear them. He freezes, listening hard, and squints towards the woods in the former direction of the sound. He tenses when the bushes rustle, but all that moves into view is an unusual creature he doesn't recognize.
"This is the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar," he responds absently to her question, still staring into the woods with an increasingly concerned look on his face. After a few seconds, he looks more closely at the creature that's just arrived. Bipedal with a rather impressive tail, armored, toothy-- pretty dangerous-looking, but capable of articulate thought-speech and even, it seems, politeness. Definitely an interesting one. There's no sign at all that he recognizes her as a dinosaur.
"I um..." he begins, then clears his throat. He smiles and begins again, though he's clearly still watching deeper into the woods. "My name is Salem. My species is what we call 'human,' which actually means very little here. This place is a... little bit of an enigma. My associate," he nods towards Ossanlin, "would call it... what, a dimensional nexus? Basically, it brings folks here from any universe it wishes." He smiles warmly, beginning to turn on his 'salesman' charm. "Welcome to the edge of everything."
In the meantime, Al sighs and turns to Mar, even as one hand rummages through the medical bag. He points at Ardiania "She called me an entertainer," he whines. "See this? You did this!" Al finds a tiny antiseptic spray bottle and holds it up briefly so Ardania can see it. He spritzes a small amount on his own skin. He mimes stinging pain, sucking in a sharp breath, followed shortly by a melodramatic re-relaxing of his muscles. "Brief pain," he says slowly, in Galard. He then turns the spray to her flank and lightly mists the abrasion there.
He picks up a dirty, scratched cylinder and pops off the top, revealing an off-white creamy salve, about half of which looks to have been used. As he pops in a hand and smears a layer, gently and deftly, on Ardania's flank, he speaks over his shoulder to Mar. "You're not too far off, actually. I'm not a human creation, per se. Different species, different time, but yeah, you're right, it sort of came down to a form of escapism, depending upon how you look at it." He pauses and scrutinizes his work as the salve cures into a crude, yet effective, flexible field bandage, and dabs a bit more on. "I was built as a companion. And as someone with whom to party. And in whom to confide. An inexhaustible source of positive social energy. There's not really a word for it in this language, but the action's more important than the definition." He squints at his makeshift bandage, curing in the cool air, and finally seems satisfied.
Al turns to Mar and shrugs with a smile. "Not to say robots never divert from their programming. Where I'm from, artificial intelligence allows plenty of room for personal evolution and growth, but I happen to enjoy being who I was built to be." He stuffs his supplies back into the bag and laughs. "Alright, Mr. Embodiment-of-Fantasy, ask the lady if she can make it inside. If she's going into shock a lie-down and some fluids are in order."
-
<Radiation from your planet's sun was able to alter your genome in such a way?> Truth Seeker marveled. <That is incredible, my friend.> Suddenly confused, he pondered his own words. Friend? He barely knew this alien. Why had he said that?
Slowly, his mind began to clear. It felt like some form of intoxication was wearing off, as if some kind of drug had affected him. But after that initial confusion, Truth Seeker realized what had happened. Jeffrey had used some kind of psychic ability to alter Truth Seeker's own thoughts! As Truth Seeker began to come back into his right mind, he realized that something else was very wrong. He looked down again at his device, now dark.
< . . . What did you do to me?> he said accusingly as he realized what had happened. <What did you do to my Cons-fi Reader?!> He held up his device towards Jeffrey, as his thought-speak rose to an angry pitch. <This is my livelihood! This is all I have! I need it to survive! Without it, I cannot earn a living, I cannot . . . > He abruptly seemed to deflate again. Literally, in fact. His diaphragm collapsed and he took shallower and shallower breaths, which had the effect of making him physically shorter in stature. <Sorry,> he said finally. <I know that this is not your fault. It is just . . . this is an upsetting turn of events.> He glanced at the Bartender again, then fearfully around at the walls of the Bar, as though expecting the building itself to swallow him alive. <What the hell is this place?>
---
Dino looked at Mar, tilting her head slightly at his explanation. She'd never heard of Yggdrasil before, yet somehow the term was still familiar. The golden threads of time itself, twining themselves together into a branching shape of every possibility . . . yes, she had seen the tree she somehow knew he was speaking of. She saw it when she used the Time Matrix. But how would this human know anything about that? She sniffed the air in his direction. He had to be human, nothing else would wear so much perfume. Yet, underneath that smell of roses, she couldn't help but to think that there ought to still be a human scent somewhere. There ought to be, but there wasn't. And she was close enough, she should still be able to smell something, even with the obnoxious perfume. But all she was getting was something that smelled strangely sinister. A predatory scent, but somehow not a biological one. Not even alien. Just, other. An oily smell of dread.
Dino shook her head. She was probably just imagining things. The perfume was doing weird things to her nose, that was all. God, she hated that stuff. She wasn't getting a scent from one of the other humans, either, but he was just a blank space, like there was nothing there at all. He was probably just standing in a pocket of dead air. <Yeah, that makes sense,> she responded shakily to Mar. <Well, as much sense as a Bar on an asteroid in a cross-roads of Time and Space inhabited by a god could make. I've forgotten what is or isn't supposed to make sense anymore.> She sniffed in his direction again. Speaking of what is or isn't supposed to make sense . . . what the hell are you? she wondered, but did not say out loud.
Dino looked over her shoulder for a moment as she noticed Salem looking intently into the woods behind her, but then looked back at him when she realized that he had probably just heard the footsteps of her formerly-larger self. If there had been anything else threatening in those woods, she'd have known about it. She had to stifle a laugh at Salem's explanation that they were humans, as though assuming she wouldn't know what a 'human' was. It made sense, of course, but it was still unexpected. In any case, she decided it was probably best to play along with that assumption.
<My name is Dino,> Dino said to Salem, with just the slightest trace of hesitation before her name, as she suddenly decided against giving her real human name, substituting her most often-used nickname instead. Until she knew more about the situation, she should be careful. <Wait, 'it brings folks here from any universe it wishes'?> she repeated. <So, this place is, what, sentient? It brought me here?> She sounded scared. <How do I leave?>
-
Ossanlin frowns to himself, though the expression is so muted as to be nigh indistinguishable from his resting expression...if his usual expression could be called "resting." Having been in command for so long had hardened his general expression into one of no-nonsense.
<It disturbs me that they are continuing to allow civilians off-planet without morphing, let alone without translator chips. There are things out here to curdle the blood...did they at least teach you how to handle a shredder?> He glances at Ardania, sighing a bit as Mar "explains" things. <Suffice it to say, Ardania, that beings of unfathomable power are a reality. The childrens' stories about Ellimist and Crayak might not necessarily be true, but the beings themselves do exist. The host of this n-dimensional plane is another of these beings. And Mar here is a...projection...of yet another.> He rolls his eyes a bit. <His magical tree description is merely a fanciful way of describing the timestream, accessible in the fourth dimension. I prefer to view them as threads of probability. If one is gifted, one can shunt a thread of probability onto the track of reality and change the course of time itself. Theoretically, of course.>
Ossanlin notes a smallish lizard-like creature with a stalk-eye as it approaches. It has very strange biological architecture...the arms are almost comically short. He suppresses an expression of surprise as the creature can apparently use thought-speech. And it seems colloquially familiar...very similar to the way Myitt and the other human rebels talk. This creature must have had extended contact with humans in the past...but the thought-speech is troubling...
As it speaks of leaving, Ossanlin glances at the creature with his main eyes. <I would suggest your ship...if you have one.>
-
Ardania shifts uneasily as Al works, though she doesn't stop him, only flinching slightly when he applies the antiseptic. She watches with a stalk as he works, clearly fascinated, though only able to pick out a handful of his words.
<Thank you,> she tells him with a dip of her stalk eyes and a slight bow of her upper body, meant to convey gratitude. Her skin is still pale beneath her violet fur, but she no longer appears to be at risk of losing consciousness.
When Ossanlin speaks, her main eyes snap to his and she straightens. <A shredder?> she echoes. <No, sir. The captain of my ship and his second in command were equipped with weaponry, but the scientists on board were not. We had a small number of guards assigned to our ship who went to the Academy. They were to protect us, if the need arose.>
She listens quietly to his description of the fourth dimension, of the Ellimist and Crayak, and of worlds far beyond her reckoning. When he finishes, she takes a few moments to consider the implications before she responds. <I should think,> she says slowly, <that it is a great relief to know such beings exist. It certainly removes the responsibility that comes with being the most technologically advanced species in the galaxy.> Her words are wry, and there's a sense that, if she weren't speaking to a War-Prince who was a legend himself, she'd be smiling.
Instead, she turns her attention to Mar. <So you possess abilities far beyond those of my people,> she says with interest. <What is your species called?>
-
<If the need arose?> Ossanlin shakes his head. <At this point in the war, the need is a foregone conclusion. And what were you to do if something like this happened? What would you do if you found yourself in the wilderness of some unknown world completely alone? Or worse, in the company of Imperials? This is beyond irresponsible. This is not a place you should go unarmed. The dangers even here are myriad. Yaolin...> He scoffs, eyes darkening a bit. <I suppose you've become my responsibility then.> Ossanlin shakes his head. <At least until you learn to handle a shredder. And you will learn to handle one.> He pauses, glancing over Ardania's tail. <Is it too much to hope that you at least know something of martial combat?>
-
Outside in the shipyard, a dark figure emerges from out of the shadows. The hunched form slowly closes in on the Bar with a faint smell of rot and smoke following it. The figure pays no attention to any of the ships in the yard, instead opting to wander toward the entrance, as if it had no clear direction of where it was heading.
As the door opens, the newcomer lets out a nasty cough before ducking his head under the doorway and sauntering toward the bar proper. While most of the newcomer’s body is concealed by a black duster coat, its head resembles that of a goat with slightly bloodshot eyes. But even before the clearly inhuman face, one would most likely notice the newcomer’s physique - he’s easily over seven feet tall, and even under the heft of the coat, it’s could be assumed that he would have no problem throwing an average human through any of the Bar’s walls, should the situation call for it.
The sound of hooves tapping against a wood floor accompany every step the strange beast takes until he sits himself at a barstool with a heavy grunt. “Whadda we got,” the newcomer mutters to himself as he squints his eyes at the liqour selection. “Bartender, what’s the best Scotch you got?” he asks in a gruff but not unfriendly voice. He takes a look around, sizing up the Bar’s occupants. “Just gimme a bottle and a glass, I got a feelin’ I’ll stick around for a bit.”
-
Salem finally sighs and turns back to the group. Whatever was in those woods, it seems to be gone now, and the new arrival seems unconcerned. Maybe she drives a mecha something-or-other and parked back in the wood. Or maybe she used to be ten times as tall, he thinks with a wry smirk. Who could tell in this place?
But "Dino" sounds... weirdly familiar, somehow. There's a tug. Something in his memory...
For Thaum's sake, he must be tired. He certainly doesn't recognize her species... does he?
"I think of the whole place as sentient," he says to Dino, slowly at first, and then faster as his train of thought finds its track. "It's kind of the same thing as he was saying," he points at Mar. "This place is in the power of some vague godlike... thing... that seems to get a kick out of just bringing us here and seeing what happens. His description may be more... actually accurate. He's more familiar with beings of that... er... type... but most of the time it just comes across as if this place had a mind of its own. It's a power bigger and more... I dunno.... unknowable? Than any of us. At first, this place just comes across as... bizarre... but as time goes by, if you're here for a bit, you'll start to see what I mean." When Ossanlin mentions leaving in her ship, he smirks. Even that isn't always reliable here, he knows.
<<Ossanlin,>> he prods, and sighs. This is not an easy conversation, and it's difficult to continue with so many distractions, but he doesn't have a choice, does he? <<What I would like your help with is... information... regarding the Mark III ships. Basic information. Top level blueprints and layouts, electrical schematics, typical command structure... even basic specifications would be a help.>>
Al, for his part, matches Ardania's bow with practiced perfection. "You're welcome," he says in Galard. He holds her gaze for a moment, scrutinizing her main eyes. He nods to himself, seeming satisfied with her state. Even so, he keeps an eye on her and doesn't stray far, even as he watches the tall, darkly-clothed newcomer heading into the bar.
"Well!" he says loudly, clapping his hands together, "Shall we move inside before someone else is hurt? Who's up for a drink? Salem's treat!" Salem's only response is to groan and roll his eyes.
-
In an unmarked room, in an off-the-books government research facility, Subject #2218; wearing military fatigues, is briefed on his 'mission'. A gruff, older soldier is going on about how an experimental teleporter is going to drop him straight into the heart of enemy territory so he can easily achieve his mission; assassinate the dictator of a third world country. Subject #2218 barks out confirmation with a crisp "Yes, Sir!"
Walking towards the massive machine, all he can think of is his mission and of his training. Whatever they had been doing to him at this place had wiped his memory clean. No thoughts of family, friends, anything. Government labs tend to do this.
Stepping up to the plate at the foot of the machine, it whirs to life with a gentle hum as a faint shimmer appears inside the massive disk. "God speed, soldier" the Sergeant says as he steps into the portal.
The first thing that happens to Subject #2218 as he enters is an immense amount of pain, more than anything they had put him through prior to this. Throughout the ordeal, all that he can think of is an extremely faint memory of another human, a woman with long blonde hair. It seems to bring him a little bit of comfort, so he accepts the memory with open arms, as it were.
----
On the lonely planetoid that housed The GESB, a strange light lit up a patch of the ship graveyard, and as it grew brighter a strange looking disk appeared in between several of the crafts, appearing almost like a rift in the very fabric of reality, bending and twisting the light that touched it. It seems to pulse as it gets slightly larger, not extruding mass nor consuming it either.
-
Keshin rolls his eyes in Jeffrey's general direction. "Ignore him," Keshin said. "It's an insult." The giggling psychopath might have been responsible for Myitt's inexplicable attempt on both of their lives, which didn't exactly warm Keshin to the man.
Keshin's face snaps into a kind of instantaneous, casual smile that he uses on Joanne's face when he wants to attract potential clients. Granted, it was hard to think of how he would establish a minotaur and a horse-headed creature as potential clients. "Anyway, it sounds like you've had quite the history in these parts," Keshin says. "Although, admittedly, so have we all. Care to tell me what you remember of what----"
Keshin swerves as a huge, black-coated presence passes by them. "Excuse me," Keshin says with slight annoyance. His eyes widen briefly when he realizes both that the stranger has the head of a goat...and that the stranger's presence seemed...threatenin g. Somehow vaguely reminiscent of Keshin and Joanne themselves. Keshin stares as the stranger settles onto the Bar stool.
"I...sincerely doubt it, but do you know that person?" Keshin says, gesturing to the goat man.
<<Come on Kess, all furries don't know each other. That's stupid.>>
<<It's worth an attempt, at least.>>
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"Believe me, shortstuff, I've probably got even less of a ****ing idea as to what's going on with this place than you do," Jeffrey says to Truth Seeker casually after the Iskoort delivers his panicked, angry tirade. "Except that I'm pretty sure it's not the afterlife, even though I know for a fact that my ass should be grass. Also...." Jeffrey smirks ever so slightly, peering down at Truth Seeker's diminutive body with amusement. "...it wore off, didn't it? That's my power. That's what it does. Makes people believe what I tell them when I shift the tone of my voice. 'Singing,' I often call it." Jeffrey hums a few notes, but his voice sounds almost auto-tuned and mechanical, and intensely pleasing. "Although I gotta say little buddy, you had better get wise..."
Jeffrey spins a finger around his ear. "...because it always works better on nutters. Nutters and shmucks. You know, gullible people. You need conviction to fight it, right here." Jeffrey forms his hand into a fist near his chest. "Anyway, like I said, no idea what this place is, except that anyone can come here. From any world. You got me?"
((Stopping my post here until tomorrow. Will post for Mar afterward, since he's got more to address, sorry for taking so long!!))
-
Myitt's boots crunch across the gravel lot, and she approaches Guppy with a shoddy but functioning pair of black metal goggles.
"The circuitry might zap you," she says apologetically. "Oh, and I didn't get to sand all the joints. Careful, it might cut your face. But, uh. Here, try these. Let me know if you see. Black and white, but...better than nothing." She adjusts the leather strap and hands what look like welding goggles to the blind man.
Jorek spins the tiny umbrella in his drink, frowning.
"What do you think, my friend?" he murmurs, a bit pleasantly buzzed, glancing over at his Councilor compatriot. "Shall we leave this tedious place?"
-
Guppy jumps, surprised by the sound of Myitt’s voice. “Oh! Wasn’t expecting you back so soon.” After fumbling with the goggles for a moment, a little hesitant to have his entire world changed. Taking a deep breath, he carefully fits them over his face.
Shaking off a painful but brief jolt to the head, Guppy slowly lowers his hand from in front of his face. “Oh . . . my . . .” Guppy slowly turns his head around the shipyard, trying to make sense of this new sense that is so alien to him. His gaze finally rests on Myitt, and he slowly sits down on the gravel of the shipyard. “Myitt,” he says, having trouble even conjuring words. He has to look up to even see her face from his vantage point on the ground. “Is that you?” Guppy looks down at his hand and moves his fingers as if playing a piano. “And that’s . . .”
Suddenly, he jumps up and wraps his arms around Myitt. “Myitt, I can’t . . .” He backs away slightly to look at Myitt’s face again. “I honestly, truly can’t thank you enough.”
-
Myitt grins down at him as he sinks to the gravel surface, her hands on her hips.
"Pretty great, huh?" she says, and she lurches back as Guppy hugs her. "Hey, man, don't squeeze my lungs shut, gawd! You're welcome!" She coughs a laugh.
-
"This place is a lot quieter than I recall," Julian commented. He was sitting at the bar with Morgan.
Morgan nodded. Things had certainly changed around the area, a lot of faces they had left weren't around anymore.
-
As the hole in the very fabric of reality reaches critical size, it seems to glow even brighter as it pulses rapidly and seems to spit out a strange humanoid creature, but something was different about him.
Subject #2218 lands chest first on the gravel of the shipyard, as the strange portal immediately closes with an almighty crack, not dissimilar to a thunderclap, easily heard by all in the vicinity.
Moving to a sitting position on the gravel underneath, his eyes quickly adjust to the low light of not-quite-nighttime and he looks around to get his bearings. He is instantly confused, as where he has ended up is definitely not where he was meant to be, going off of the strange looking vehicles around where he was sitting. His whole body, still tingling from the teleporter, he slowly stands up, boots crunching underneath, and looks around for anyone nearby.
-
Myitt watches with relative calm as the portal opens and emits the humanoid creature, sort of like a human man, not far from their ship.
She tilts her head.
"Hey, Guppy," she says with a grin, nodding towards the portal and the person who came out of it. "Now that you've got eyes, take a look at that."
-
"Nothing about this place will make much sense to anyone at all. You can trust me on that much," says Mar, a bit casually to the dinosaur. He was more than a little baffled by how the dinosaur had gotten here, from millions of years in the past. He listens to the conversations that go on between Ossanlin, Salem, Al, and the person named "Dino" apparently, and then nods his head in response to the collective's commentary on him and the Bartender. "Yes, that's about the size of it. I expect that it's...a bit more complicated than that, from the Highest's perspective. Most Highest wouldn't set up such an elaborate plan unless they were..." Mar chuckles. "...well, hungry. I strongly suspect the Bartender and his Mass eat the sort of pointless conflicts that end up coming around here. You'll have to be careful, or leave soon...assuming you're able to gain an exit using any kind of device, or ship."
Mar then blushes as soon as the Andalite lady asks about his species, brightly. <Ah, that's--- I am---> He tries to send a thought-speech name for his species through his mind, but it's quite difficult. The name can only come across in images and concepts, and very few of the associations he would normally use would be instantly comprehensible to an Andalite from the homeworld. But he tries.
They come in a sudden flash of emotions, and pictures. An image of a glowing, Silver-Blade-like Andalite, and then a comparison of this image to a human depiction of an angel. The emotion here, or concept, is something like "powerful servant, messenger, spirit being, Ellimist." It then shows the angel, and the Andalite, simultaneously falling dead to the ground, their bodies growing cold and the Andalite's fur growing damp and pale and stiff. Next is a light being snuffed out by thick, black tendrils of darkness. In the next moment, though, the angel, and the dead Andalite, stand up in a zombie-like lurch. The tendrils that had swallowed the light seem to glow as if they had swallowed that light. The concept that accompanies this is "undead, unnatural, neither alive nor dead, fallen, Entropy's messengers."
He's not entirely certain why he doesn't just use the simple words "entropic or 'Dark' Highest" with her, like he has with so many other people that he's met. He feels, though, that she probably wouldn't get it as readily with so simple a word used, so some from his own language will have to suffice.
-
Guppy watches the portal open seemingly out of nowhere with an oddly stoic expression. “Not sure, but I’m going to guess that’s not normal,” he says in a matter-of-fact way. He watches in silence for a few minutes ashis lips slowly become more pursed. “Okay, I’m pretty sure that’s not normal. What the heck is that!?”
The goat-headed newcomer accepts the whiskey from the Bartender and pours some in the rocks glass he was provided. He takes a look around the Bar, taking note of the patrons that he had previously ignored. Shrugging, he downs his drink in one gulp, licking the last of the Scotch whiskey from his lips. “Good stuff,” he mutters to nobody in particular.
-
Salem nods absently as Mar speaks, but his eyes remain locked on Dino, brow furrowed. She does remind him of something, but he's positive he's never met her species before. Moments later, however, he notices the light from a glowing, flickering portal in the woods not far away. Something falls out of it, but he can't see what it is through the foliage. Interesting, that. This place never quite settles down, does it?
He's so engrossed in the portal that he all but misses the weird flickering sensation, tugging at his newfound sense, that accompanies Mar's thought-speak and, presumably, his attempt at an explanation of his species to Ardania. Salem catches only the end of the sensation and smirks. He's been on the receiving end of similar messages in the past. Mar's true name, while impossible to pronounce, has proven equally impossible to forget.
"Pretty straighforward, right?" He calls to Ardania. "Welcome to the weirdest corner of reality."
He seems to make up his mind about something and turns back to Dino. "I don't mean to be rude, but where exactly are you from?"
-
<I do not have a ship,> Dino said to Ossanlin. <Or, well, I did, but I seem to have . . . lost it,> she corrected herself. She didn't want to reveal that she had used the Time Matrix to get here, not with how little she knew about these people. But she was not the greatest liar, and she was scared that it showed, as she mentally scolded herself for her poor wording choices. She 'lost' her ship? Did she really think they were going to just buy that?
She was momentarily distracted by a scent of rot and smoke, as a tall creature in a black duster coat walked past her and the others, and into the Bar. Too tall to be human, but she'd never seen any other species wearing human clothes, and in any case the scent was wrong for an alien. But, well, in any case, that wasn't that much stranger than anyone else present, so she turned her attention back to the group.
She listened to Salem and Mar continue to explain what this place was, staying silent because she didn't have much to add. She noted that Salem mentioned Mar's 'familiarity' with higher beings, and decided that probably explained Mar's unfamiliar scent. Somehow, that realization didn't set her mind at ease. To be perfectly honest, this whole conversation was doing quite the opposite of setting her mind at ease. Especially when Mar referred to the Bartender as 'hungry,' saying that he 'ate conflicts.' <I assure you, I intend to leave as soon as I can,> she said tensely to Mar. <As soon as I figure out->
That's when she heard a thunderclap that made her literally jump, jerking her attention towards a new human that had appeared in the shipyard. Once her initial shock wore off, and her heart started beating again, she was overcome with a very cautious curiosity. This, so far, seemed like the most promising lead in terms of how to actually get out of this place. This person had definitely not been here a few seconds before, Dino would have smelled him if he had been. So however he had gotten here, it was at least superficially similar to how Dino herself had come to be here. This talk of ships, and gods, was getting her nowhere.
The Ankylotyrannus wandered tentatively closer to the new human, while still keeping a good distance. She sniffed in the newcomer's direction. He smelled more-or-less human, but there was also a definite scent of 'big cat' about him. <Hello,> she said, and simply waited for his reaction to that one thought-speak word before saying anything else.
She was still close enough to hear Salem's question, though. <I'm from Earth,> she said distractedly, about one tenth of a second before she wondered whether or not that information could be used against her somehow.
---
Truth Seeker was still staring in despair at his broken device, but he couldn't tune out Jeffrey's voice, even if he wanted to. The memory of being in Jeffrey's thrall was still too fresh. <'Nutters and schmucks,'> the Iskoort echoed, anger building in him again. He looked up fiercely at Jeffrey. <You think I'm gullible?> His tentacle hand actually twitched towards his satchel, as though reaching for a weapon, but the thought of violence actually calmed him down somewhat, as he suddenly was forced to realize how irrational he was being. Maybe Jeffrey was right. As much as that thought now disgusted him.
But something else Jeffrey had said caught his attention, and Truth Seeker's gaze flicked towards a tall figure in a black coat, accompanied by a faint smell of rot and smoke, who had just entered the bar. <Anyone . . . from any world?> he wondered. <Even . . . > he looked down again at his device, meant to detect the spirits of fictional characters, now broken beyond repair by the strange energy signature of the Bar itself.
Nevertheless, the Iskoort loped cautiously towards the bar, opting to sit a couple seats down from the goat-headed apparition. He had to sit almost exactly backwards from how a human would sit, his legs draped off the back side of the barstool. He put his defunct device down on the stool next to him.
Mostly, he wanted the excuse to get away from Jeffrey. And, well, he no longer had a job to complete, so why not linger awhile in this strange and curious place? And while he was at it, why not take his mind off of his troubles? That was, after all, the purpose behind most places such as this. <Uh, I will have one of those, I think,> he said hesitantly to the Bartender, obviously still leery of talking to him, but pointing a clawed finger towards the goat-headed being's now-empty glass. Truth Seeker had no idea what 'scotch' was, of course. He rummaged in his satchel for a moment, before looking up again and asking the Bartender, <Do you accept only currency, or can you accept trade as well?>
-
The tall newcomer eyes the strange creature now seated a couple of stools away. It didn’t seem to be threatening - granted, there wasn’t much that could pose a significant threat to the goat-headed being. No, it instead seemed nervous, for whatever reason.
The Iskoort is greeted with a wide smile from the odd beast. “Don’ worry ‘bout it, friend,” he says, sliding the bottle over to the strange alien. “Jus’ give ‘im a glass, this is on me.” He turns from the Bartender toward Truth Seeker and extends his arm across the Bar, offering the alien a hand - er, cloven hoof-shake. “You look like you could use a drink, strangah. Might I ask ya’ name?”
-
After surveying his surroundings, Subject #2218 sees two humans in the near distance, who he assumes are looking towards him. Quickly brushing the dust from his camouflage fatigues, he makes his way towards them, loose gravel underfoot, crunching with each footstep.
As he walks towards them, he looks at all the strange ships placed around the lot, a majority of them decrepit, looking like they had been sitting for quite some time. Getting closer; but still a distance away from the two people, he raises his hands to show that he is unarmed, in case he has ended up in a hostile environment.
Stopping in a small patch of light, reflected from several of the hulls around him, the extent of his unusualness is revealed. He doesn't have much visible skin due to his heavily militarized outfit, but what can be seen of his facial features and skin colour are strikingly similar to that of a Bengal tiger, but his raised hands are clearly humanoid, yet still tiger-like. "I'm unarmed," he calls out to them, but to himself he says "Where the hell did that machine send me?"
Subject #2218 looks around in confusion when he hears the thought-speak voice in his head, having never experienced it before.
-
Ossanlin's fur suddenly shimmers to silver again, his eyes suddenly glowing an intense ice blue. His hooves and blade flash to silver as he winces and leans against the hull of the Mirage. The uncontrollable spell seems to be less painful this time...less random, yet it strikes him with the same weakness, as if he's being over-exerted. As his main eyes pass around the different people gathered, he can sense more than just auras...more than just random thoughts.
As his eyes pass over Mar, they note the writhing blackness around him. Not unexpected, of course, but he can't normally see that which is behind his friend so clearly. Others he gets sensations of...trueness, along with what seem to be memories and empathic feelings. Ardania feels mostly innocent, though she is perhaps hiding something. The others each have their own aura...Myitt, the formerly-blind controller, the new-comer, the strange reptile...all of them. The true surprise, however, comes to pass when his eyes make contact with Salem's.
A deep, soul-rending anguish washes through him. Somewhere deep in Salem, there's a pain. It's almost indescribable...int olerable. Buried so deep as to become nothing more than a dull ache. How could he live with that much pain? There's also a "wrongness" about him, as if he doesn't belong. Not so surprising since Salem himself is a nexus of different realities. But through it all, he senses light...goodness. The trader had wronged him in the past, and done some nasty things to boot, but underneath it all, Salem seems to be...good. Or at least well-intentioned. And also scared. A fear glossed over with forced humor and a devil-may-care attitude. A fear stemming from that deep pain...the pain of loss. Indescribable loss. It is at this moment that Ossanlin senses the sincerity in Salem's request. The need. While his story is more or less impossible, Salem himself certainly believes it to the hilt. His motivation is based out of caring and concern for others...not at all what Ossanlin expects.
With that, the spell passes and Ossanlin's fur, eyes, hooves, and tail revert to normal. He stands up straight and tall again, taking a few deep breaths, betraying nothing of what had just happened. He locks eyes with Salem. <<You...with me. Now.>>
He spares a glance for Ardania, hoping she doesn't manage to get herself killed in his absence, before he makes for the ramp on the Mirage, ascending up to the flight deck.
-
Myitt stares at the Bengal-tiger-patterened newcomer, eyes wide.
"I have no idea," she tells Guppy, still staring, far longer than is polite, before she collects herself and blinks at Subject #2218.
She wriggles her fingers, which sprout from her cut-off gloves, in a lukewarm greeting.
"Yeah, unarmed," says Myitt blankly. "That's...that's good. You speak English, too, or else there's some translation chip action going on. Do you, uh...often make such dramatic appearances here?"
She elbows Guppy and mutters, "Keep an eye on him. Seriously. Now you can, eh?" Myitt gives him a sidelong grin.
-
Salem's eyebrows shoot up when Dino says she's from Earth. He scrutinizes her form more closely-- in this place, there's no way to tell what ridiculous or absurd version of Earth she's talking about-- but he's sure now that he recognizes her species. How in the world...?
His confusion is doubled when Ossanlin invites him aboard the Mirage. His mouth is suddenly dry, but he manages to mumble "Uhm... Yes, sir," as he follows Ossanlin up the ship's ramp.
Once inside, he leans against a bulkhead, arms crossed, trying to look more relaxed than he feels. Adrenaline pumps through his system, and he's on high alert-- is this Ossanlin finally making a move on behalf of Sector Seven? Or a move against them? Is the War-Prince about to reprimand Salem in some fashion? With nobody left aboard except for the two of them and the unconscious Seer, he's not sure what to expect.
Salem lets out a slow breath, steadies his nerves, smirks, and says, as brightly as possible, "What's up, buttercup?"
-
<Drop the attitude...and the act.> Ossanlin keeps his back facing Salem, tail swishing back and forth. He looks up at the ceiling of the flight deck on the Mirage, sparing only a single stalk eye for Salem. <You are demanding that I betray my own people. Requesting that I hand over the schematics to our most-effective warship for you to use as you please.> He turns his head so that he can look out the corner of one main eye at Salem, his face darkened by a serious and intimidating expression. <I don't like you. I have nothing but contempt for the way you live your life. Always running...never standing your ground like an honorable being. Your deep concern for your own self-preservation combined with an apparent lack of caring for anyone BUT yourself.>
He pauses before sighing and turning to face Salem. <So imagine my surprise when I read you.> His visage softens for a moment, but then firms again. <You are asking more of me than I'm willing to give, especially to you. I'm not promising anything, but if you want my cooperation, you'll start by being honest with me. Completely honest.> Ossanlin steps slowly toward Salem. <You'll tell me everything. Where you're from...the FIRST universe you came from. You'll tell me who you really are...who you were then. And you'll tell me exactly what that agonizing pain buried in the recesses of your mind is.> He stops, standing only a couple feet from Salem. <You have ONE chance at this, Salem. One. No attitude, no swagger, no jokes. You will relive your past HONESTLY as you recount it. You will not mask anything with humor. You will not sidestep the truth with false bravado. You will tell me all of it.> He raises his hand toward the Mirage's ramp in a gesture. <Or you can be on your merry way and get what you need from someone else. And you do NEED what I have for once. That much is clear.> He regards Salem with the same serious expression, falling silent, waiting for the "trader" to make his decision.
-
Al watches with an eyebrow raised as Salem wanders aboard the Mirage, then turns and walks after Dino. "You're shorter than I'd expect of a dinosaur," he says brightly, stepping up beside her. "That is one heck of a tail, though. Little jealous. Would it be okay if I grew one myself?"
When the tiger-like creature calls that he's unarmed, Al smiles. "You're in the minority. Everybody around here seems to be packin'. My name's Al. This is the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar. Rootinest, tootinest bar in the... in wherever the heck we are. Where'd you... er... fall in from, stranger?"]
Al looks over towards Myitt, who's now standing not far off, and waves enthusiastically. "Hey, Myitt!"
As Ossanlin speaks, Salem turns away, a lump in his throat. He tries not to let it show, but Ossanlin's words have struck a soft spot. Always running... never standing his ground... it's perhaps the one thing he finds most loathsome in himself. The fact that, no matter how hard he tries, he can never seem to find his place in the universe.
Even so, he retains enough presence of mind to be slightly offended. "You... read me?" he mutters indignantly. That had to be a Silver Blade thing. Ugh. Silverblades...
For a few minutes, Salem stands, silent, staring towards the empty hatch. He could just walk away. He could just walk out the door. He could just board his ship, and leave this world behind, and not have to deal with this arrogant War-Prince's ridiculous request. He never has to see Andalites, or Yeerks, or these bizarre, backwards humans ever again. All it would take is the push of a single button, and he could leave the stupid Andalite homeworld to whatever fate might lay before it.
Eventually, he sighs. "Fine." All the exhaustion he feels comes through in that single word. He sounds... defeated.
"I'm... in one way or another, I've been a fugitive since... well, since I was born. Before that, even." He barks out a short, bitter laugh. "I was born on Earth. There was a war going on back then." He turns towards Ossanlin, but his gaze is unfocused as he delves into his memories. "Not your war. There were no Yeerks or Andalites there... er... none that I ever knew about. This war was... it was more of a huge web of shifting political tension. A thirty-way cold war, sort of. Skirmishes weren't all that common, but they weren't exactly rare either. The galaxy was still recovering from a big, actual war, empires were rising and falling, ideologies were clashing, power vacuums were being filled... my family fled when I was very young." He wrinkles his nose, "My birth name was... Aaron? Something like that... but my dad changed my name to Jaron before I was old enough to remember. My mother was a war hero, from what I hear. A pilot, but she died in action when I was little. I never... I don't remember her."
"I grew up on a space station circling a distant star. Not... not, like, a little outpost. This thing had millions of people. It was... less segregated there, I guess. Here, all the Andalites keep to the Andalites, and the Yeerks stick with the Yeerks, and the humans stay mostly on their homeworld. Back there, nobody was the same thing. I had friends of a dozen different species." A wistful smile crosses his face. "I actually miss that."
"Things there were... actually pretty good. Ups and downs. School. I was really into science and technology and all that. And plenty of... hijynx, I think Al would call it. Childhood. And some of my angsty teen years," he rolls his eyes, but at this point he stops. His eyes close, and his posture seems to droop. "The conflicts... the war, I guess I'm calling it... caught up to us. The station ended up being... being destroyed. Completely. I escaped with a friend of mine, but almost everyone... not many people made it. My friends didn't. My teachers didn't." His eyes focus on Ossanlin for the first time since he began speaking, and he quirks his lips upwards in a sad simulacrum of a smile. "My father didn't."
He swallows and looks away again. "We... Sasha and I... we ran. We hid. For months. The IPA had taken over the Coalition... we couldn't contact relatives, or be part of the system. We were actual fugitives. We changed our names. Took monikers from mythology." He rolls his eyes. "We thought we were so clever. Luckily, Captain Pienterre..." His voice cracks as he says the name, "He um... he found us. He took us in. Brought us aboard his ship. We became part of his crew. We were... sort of space pirates. Like... rogue political warriors trying to make a difference in the chaos and conflicts." The wistful smile returns to his features. "That crew was a bunch of ****s, and the so-called work we did was stupidly dangerous, but I loved it there. Once I got used to it. I just... I fit in. We were a family. Closer than family, really, because we only had each other." He swallows. "Sasha didn't feel the same, I guess. She... disappeared, at one point. Didn't say goodbye. I don't know... I never heard from her again."
He stops for a moment, caught in some thought or memory, then seems to shake himself. "A lot of the crew were lost over the years, but I stayed with them for a long time. Life was hard, but good. Eventually, though, I screwed up. Bad. I was... " he presses his eyes shut, "I got my crewmate killed. And... and the ship... the Captain... they had to leave me behind. Get away alive."
"I... I didn't have a lot of options. I was still a fugitive. But I was smarter now. Sharper. I had all kinds of... pirate-y skills. I took up trading... fell in with a... fraction of a faction of a trading guild. Few crotchety old guys, but they knew their stuff. They showed me how to turn a profit, and I used it to keep chasing the Esprit... tried to catch up with my old crew. But those ****s had survived as outlaws for so long because they were good at what they did. I was... I was always too late." He laughs softly. "I... I kind of accepted that it was just me now. Struck out on my own. Drifted from world to world, without a home, except whatever crummy little spaceship I could afford at the moment. Lived it up. Partied. I never stayed anywhere long. I traded and tinkered with tech stuff, just to make some money. Checked in with the guild guys sometimes. Eventually, I stumbled into bounty hunting... a way to put my skills to use. Started to make some real money. I had it pretty good, but it was... it was pretty lonely."
"I kind of kept my... revolutionary tendencies. Did what I could to hurt the IPA. Bring down their corruption and help re-unify the people." He shrugs. "Or maybe it was all just revenge. I don't know. Either way, I ended up with a few... bounties. Hunters on the lookout for me. And at one point I traded for a... thing. A piece of technology like nothing I'd seen before. The person I got it from called it a 'Hope Drive.' Told me it would take me far, far away. Save me. I didn't get what it was. I still don't really know what it's supposed to be." He laughs. "Like an idiot, I decided to wire it into my ship, in case of an emergency. Well... eventually, a couple of hunters had me... well, they had me. I'd walked into a trap. A stupid, obvious trap. I had no way out. So I pushed the button on the Hope Drive."
"It, ah... It didn't do what I thought it'd do. It... it ripped me out of my universe. Al, too. He'd just... I happened to be giving him a ride at the time, and in return for his trust in me, he got ripped from his life and his home and thrown into my world of chaos." He chuckles bitterly. "Half the time I'm still convinced he hates me for that, but he's stuck by me anyway. He's kept me... he's kept me sane, in a lot of ways. Kept me alive, in others. I... I kind of owe him everything."
"Not that he's had much choice but to follow me around. Something... happened... the first time I used that godforsaken... the Hope Drive. Everyone who was nearby has been... dragged along in my wake ever since. Al... and two hunters... they're all still... tied to it, somehow. Whenever I use it, they all get... dragged to whatever universe I'm in. If the hunters wanted to kill me for business back then, it's definitely personal now. They're getting... uprooted, I guess... every so often, against their will, and plopped into whatever new universe I end up in."
"That's... kind of been my life. For a long, long, time, War-Prince. I've found worlds deadlier than I could have imagined. I've... I fell in, at one point, with a group of freedom fighters. Rebels, looking to topple their corrupt government. Once they got over my... our difference in species, they let me be a part of their world. And in some ways, it was like being home..." he laughs. "I mean... it was like being on the Esprit again. A tight-knit group of comrades-in-arms. And man, was having Al around good for morale. And things were good for a while, until... until someone betrayed us. Ratted us out. We were... attacked. Ambushed at our home base. It was... It was vicious. I wanted... I wanted to stay and help, but my... one of the fighters got me out. Saved my life, and sent me out on the ****ing Hope Drive..." There are genuine tears shining in his eyes now. "I ran. I didn't mean to, but I ran. Again. And I have no idea if any of them are still alive... if any of them got away... if their cause ever succeeded. I have no way to know. No way to find them again." His voice is lower, now, and angry. "Power up the Hope Drive, and everything you've ever known is gone in the blink of an eye."
He sighs. "Anyway, Al and I bounced through a few more universes. Some just never showed us anything worth sticking around for. Some... one, actually... was just too awful to stay. I... I kept trading when I could, and hunting when I couldn't, just to make ends meet... and to fill the time. I'd trade Knowledge and technology and whatever I had. Ended up with a new ship from one universe, and a new android body for Al to inhabit from another. Picked up bits and bobs everywhere. Lost another... home, I guess... to stupidity and bad luck," he practically spits the words, "but mostly just moved from planet to planet, just me and Al."
"We drifted. And eventually, we wound up on the... on your homeworld." He chuckles. "It is not easy to get an Andalite to take in outsiders. I was lucky... a sympathetic War-Prince took an interest in me. I lived at the Academy for a time... but you know that, don't you? At first they were content to pick my brain for knowledge, mostly, but once the higher-ups learned of my... my talents, I was pressured into taking a few... more dangerous jobs on the side. Espionage and the occasional assassination of a Yeerk in a sensitive position. I knew they considered me expendable. I was just content to have a place to lay my head besides that cramped dump of a ship."
He hesitates, his eyes searching Ossanlin's. The next bit is the one he's worried about telling the War-Prince. "You know they gave me the honorary rank of Prince at one point, right? Prince Tobias." He laughs. "I think they only did it so they could justify my presence... or something. Some political maneuvering. It was absurd, and it really meant nothing to me until they assigned a couple of arisths to me for tutoring. It was only a few hours a week, but they were... incredibly sharp, and open-minded, and great students. They even started wanting to spend time with me outside of their scheduled hours. Mostly to hear me drone on like an old man with my stories." He smiles fondly. "We grew close. I... I started to think of them as family, almost. They were some of the only Andalites that actually seemed to... to think of me as a person, rather than a curiosity or a disgrace."
"And then... and then it all fell apart. Again. I got sent out on a clandestine mission against the Yeerks, but they were expecting me. I'd hurt them, and they wanted me... and my tech... there were a ton of them waiting for me. I... I got lucky. I escaped. By coming here, actually." He shakes his head slowly. "It was pretty soon after that I got word that I was wanted by the Andalites too. As a traitor." He laughs weakly. "To be considered a traitor to a culture, you have to be considered part of that culture to begin with. That was a real compliment coming from the Andalite military. Meant I could never go back, though."
He stares hard at Ossanlin, and his voice grows quiet. "That 'pain' you... read, Andalite? That's the pain of watching the world burn. The pain of losing everything and everyone I love. The pain trying... trying as hard as I can... to make things work... and at best, everything I do is completely ineffectual. At best, I can hope my friends and family have survived. And not just once, but again and again. Stuck in an endless loop of loss and betrayal." He clenches his fists and looks away. He's silent for a moment, and when he speaks again, his voice vibrates with a barely contained rage. "Now my arisths are in danger, and if I'm right, so is the homeworld. It may not be my planet, War-Prince, but it's the only home I've got. They're the only family I've got. And for once, I'm still here to protect them." He glares at Ossanlin, a fire in his eyes, and practically growls, "And nobody is going to keep me from doing that. Not you. Not Jamil. Not Sector Seven. Not the entire ****ing Yeerk Empire."
-
Ossanlin listens attentively to Salem's story, his expression betraying nothing. Of course he knew that a "human" had been awarded a stay on the Homeworld. And he knew that "human" had been Salem, or Tobias rather, as he was known back then. He had not known about the honorary rank of Prince, however. Considering the Andalite culture, that would've been little more than a poor joke. The fact that he had been allowed to teach students speaks of a formidable honor, however. Of course his people would've wanted to pick his brain. To learn and recreate his technology. The man had technology from so many different universes...several of those bits of tech could possibly turn the whole tide of the war. While Ossanlin often disagrees with his brethren, he surely understands their motives and desires. Sector Seven would've been fully invested in Salem of a certain.
Without warning, Ossanlin punches his arm forward toward Salem's chest, palm open. It lands softly over Salem's heart as Ossanlin nods a bit. <<Finally! At long, loving last. A person. Not a mask...not a facade...a real, living, breathing person.>> He removes his hand, looking Salem up and down. <<Ever since I've met you, you've been ephemeral. A wisp...a falsehood. You've been a two-dimensional creature. And for the first time ever, I can finally see you. The real you. The person underneath all of those layers of defense. The jafik in his true color.>>
<<I wouldn't give Salem the plans to a Skrit-Na Freighter, let alone a state-of-the-art warship. But I might be convinced to help Aaron...or Jaron if the birth name has no meaning....I say this only because Jaron is a real person. A man with feelings and flaws. A genuine person...someone real. Salem is nothing but ephemera. A mask...a cloak...a gravity pistol. A false identity.>> He turns from Salem, walking back toward the Mirage's control panel.
<<You let someone in. I can see it now. You let one or two of my people through all of those layers of defense. Let yourself get attached. You're afraid to lose them. And, for once, you're afraid to run. For once, you won't let yourself abandon those you've let in.>> Ossanlin sighs a bit, watching Salem with a single stalk-eye. <<I've let someone in too, Jaron. Tobias, if you prefer. I know how it feels to worry about that person every day. To wonder if that person is okay, or even alive. Wondering if that person is thinking about you too.>> He glances at Salem with his main eyes again, feeling it's only fair to share a secret of his own. <<That person resides upon the Homeworld as well. And he's very important to me.>>
<<Alic is a wonderful girl. Fierce, strong, and confident. I thought for a time that she would be the one, but she left to carry on her father's will. A goal which I have never supported, and never could. Truth be told, Siruvan had my hearts first, I simply didn't realize it until after I left. All this time...>> He falls off without finishing the sentence. Of course Ossanlin fought to keep the Homeworld safe, but part of that stemmed from his fervent desire to protect his only childhood friend. It wasn't until his time out in space left to his own thoughts that Ossanlin had realized that he could love Siruvan as he would a mate. Same-gender pairings weren't all that uncommon in Andalite society, Ossanlin had simply never realized before that the gender of his partner didn't really matter that much to him. Siruvan had shown him a devoted kindness in the academy. His only peer to do so. The two were shorm, but Ossanlin's gratitude and caring for Siruvan ran even deeper. It had taken him years to realize it, but he has no idea if Siruvan could even possibly feel the same way toward him. He unconsciously rubs at the hilt of one of his swords...they had been Siruvan's parting gift to him the night before he'd been deployed.
<<And yes, I read you. Your thoughts and feelings...nebulous and incomplete. Terrible invasion of your privacy and all that...wasn't as if I meant to do it.>> He doesn't elaborate upon that any further. One secret was enough for now...besides, the last thing he wants is for Salem to start questioning Ossanlin's abilities.
<<You know what Sector Seven will do to you if they catch you. You know what they're capable of. Well, perhaps not as much as I do...after all I'm one of the Lords-Lieutenant.>> He turns to face Salem fully again, a dark smile flashing across his eyes before vanishing. Perhaps a second secret had been warranted after all. <<But knowing that, if you truly want to fight, Tobias...if that conviction is truly a fire that burns within your heart, well it's hard to see that as anything but personal growth. Your desire to stay and fight...I can feel it's genuine, but if I take things any further with you, I won't have you turning tail and vanishing in a wake of destruction.>> He falls silent for a moment, considering his next words carefully. <<I wonder how strong that conviction really is...is it strong enough for you to make the ultimate investment? Would you rid yourself of the object of your suffering? Would you...destroy the 'Hope Drive'?>>
-
<Oh, thank you!> the Iskoort told the goat-headed being gratefully. Truth Seeker had been to few planets where beings would give something for nothing, so the idea was still a strange concept to the Iskoort's sensibilities. Nonetheless, he wrapped a tentacle-finger around the bottle, and poured some into the glass that the Bartender had just given him. He took a taste. It was some kind of distilled fermentation liquid, that much he was familiar with, but this was different than any he had tasted before. Rich in flavor, yet subtle. Truth Seeker's eyes widened, and he drank deeply. His glass was quickly empty again. <Thank you,> he repeated in a whisper.
<My name is Truth Seeker, grub of Soul Caller, brother of Name Collector,> he introduced himself, as he moved over to the stool next to the goat-person. He didn't seem quite sure how to return the being's hand/hoof gesture, though, so he simply mimicked it, holding his own claw/tentacle/hand towards the stranger. <What are you known as, if I may ask?>
---
Dino stepped closer to the tiger-human hybrid. She was standing in the open now, where he would be sure to see her. <Do not be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you,> she said, as the newcomer looked around for the source of her thought-speak 'hello.' <Do you know how you came to be here?> she gently inquired. She gave a passing glance to the other two humans nearby, one of whom was wearing what seemed to be welding goggles. They both smelled human, though, so she wasn't too concerned about their presence.
Dino then noticed that Al had followed her. <Oh, yes, actually, I am able to change size,> she explained to him. <I intentionally became smaller than I normally am, as a gesture of goodwill. I did not come to fight, so I did not want to present myself as a threat.>
Dino sniffed in Al's direction. Then, tilting her head curiously, she sniffed again, as she stepped closer to Al. She stopped with her snout close enough to Al's face that it would make most people uncomfortable. Finally, she said, <I would imagine, since you seem to be a hologram of some sort, that you could grow any kind of tail you like. Depends how good your modeling software is. If you need to scan my tail to replicate it, you have my permission.> She tilted her head again, then added, <In exchange for that, I don't suppose you know anything the others don't, about how to leave this place?> It occurred to her that, as a holographic A.I., he might not be able to 'hear' her thought-speak. Would he? That might depend on the emitter, how close it was, and how advanced it was. If Kiphos was here, he would know. The thought summoned a lump in Dino's throat, as she wondered where he was, and what he was doing. Trying to find her, most likely. <Please,> she implored Al, hoping that his A.I. could understand the concept of quid pro quo. <Anything you can give me. Anything at all. I need to get back to my friends.>
-
Guppy snorts out a laugh at Myitt’s joke - or what he assumes is a joke, at least. He puts his hands up just as the tiger creature in front of him. “Subject 2218?” he says. “Bit of a mouthful, don’t you think?” He slowly approaches the odd newcomer, still making sure to leave some distance. “Either way, nice to meet you!” He chirps.
“Truth Seekah, eh?” the goat-headed creature confirms. He gently holds the Iskoort’s outstretched tentacle between the two digits of his hoof and gives a warm smile. “Well, mistah Truth Seekah, help yerself to anothah drink if you want. Looks like ya’ liked that one.” The beast’s odd accent comes across in nearly every word he says, coating his speech with an odd texture.
He fumbles around the interior of his coat before producing a hand-rolled cigar. “But ye’ wanna know my name . . .” he intones. “My name, mistah Truth Seekah, is somethin’ that must’nt be heard by mortal ears, y’see. Could be dangerous to . . . well, ev’ryone here. Could cause all sorts of bleedin’ in the brain and explodin’ eyeballs and all that.” He quickly brings the cigar up to his lips and lights it. If one were to judge by the smell, it certainly wasn’t loaded with tobacco. “Nasty sight, it is. So y’see why I can’t go ‘round sayin’ my name, right?” He takes a drag on his cigar before quickly adding, “but I s’ppose you can call me Cletus.”
-
Keshin sighs and takes a long sip of their present drink. The Bar's activity seems to have increased. There were multiple, bizarre newcomers dotting the place. The incredibly annoying, weird-looking accordion alien seems to have decided to commiserate with the goat, and the horse-headed alien and the minotaur appear to have settled. The two Councilors--- for Keshin was fairly certain that was who they are--- seemed almost ready to leave. <The time passes in waves here. The ease with which you can space out and just stare into your drink never ceases to amaze me.>
There was a lot on his mind. He kept replaying the scene of Myitt attacking him in his mind. I still don't know...what that was. What caused that to happen. Is it really possible that a host was able to manipulate her to that degree? And there was something else, too--- Slightly before the attack, they had agreed to help Salem do something. The degree of psychological trauma that they had suffered made it hard to jar the memory into its proper position, but it was undeniable. They had agreed to help the trader do something extremely dangerous. Keshin reached out to Joanne within his mind, as if placing a hand on her shoulder. <Do you still want to do it?>
<Yeah. No question. I mean he helped us, alright? Whatever **** that guy's gotten himself into...I don't think we want to be there when the other shoe drops. We need to dig for more info from him. Tonight.>
<But before we do...> Keshin gives the two Councilors about to leave, a sidelong glance. <...let's just make sure we have all of our ducks in a row.>
<...wait. What do you mean by that?> Joanne queries, frowning. Keshin's thought speech fell silent.
Keshin stands up and walks over to the table of the two Councilors. He swallows, trying to find the correct series of words, and then finally says, "...I am not entirely certain who you two gentleman are, or why you dislike one another, or what business you have at this place. But if my guess is, in fact, correct...than my host and I actually might have something to show you...that would interest you."
<Kess what the **** are you doing?> But Keshin again failed to respond.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jeffrey stares drolly over at Truth Seeker speaking to the goat man and almost immediately loses interest in him. Good grief. Play with someone for five minutes at this Bar and they throw a colossal hissy fit out of nowhere. Jeffrey drops his credits card out of his wallet on the table, next to the drink, and nods at the Bartender to take it. Something about the Bartender makes Jeffrey incredibly uncomfortable, like he's not...really there. But Jeffrey can afford to pay for the drinks, or so he hopes.
The Bartender reappears with a receipt that reads, "Purchases already paid for in full. There is no need for this card. Any additional refreshments or meals will incur a new payment." Signed, The Management. Jeffrey's brow furrows and he points a finger at the receipt. "What in the world does that mean?" The Bartender goes back to cleaning his glass and doesn't respond.
Jeffrey rolls his eyes and walks out of the Bar and into the night, looking for interesting sights to see.
-
Salem's heart skips a beat when Ossanlin lays a hand on his chest, though he manages to avoid jumping... very far. When Ossanlin speaks of how ephemeral and two-dimensional he's seemed, Salem smirks a little, but it's more an instinctual reaction than any sort of derision. He lowers his eyes and thinks to himself. Of course he's seemed distant to the occupants of the Galaxy's Edge. He hasn't ever come to this lonely little rock expecting to see these people ever again. There's been no reason to show his true colors. Or to tell the truth. Or to bother trying... all that hard to keep most of them alive. Not believing any of the relationships formed here could last has made him see them as... expendable, in a way... and it's only now that he's beginning to see the bitter irony in that.
Salem listens, nodding occasionally, and finally looks up when Siruvan's name comes up. He tilts his head, now seeing Ossanlin from yet another angle. Amazing how this War-Prince never ceased to surprise him. "Siruvan...?" he wonders aloud.
Whatever thought he has is wiped away when Ossanlin brings up his rank within Sector Seven. The ground beneath Salem's feet almost seems to quake. His fear that the War-Prince may be a member of that organization comes to a head with his hope that he can enlist his help, leaving Salem in the middle of an uneasy wave of vertigo. Ossanlin isn't just Sector Seven, he's a Lord-Liutenant... and yet he seems to be willing at least listen to what Salem has to say... this is more trust... or potential trust, he supposes... than he's had from anyone in a long while. Secrecy and intrigue within a secret society... Salem can't help but be reminded of Emelen. The thought of that Andalite brings the briefest smile to his face. It's been such a long time...
When Ossanlin suggests he destroy the Hope Drive, Salem's shoulders droop. He turns, before Ossanlin can see the fresh tears and frustration forming in his eyes, and stares back towards the outside world.
For a long moment, he stands silent, until, finally, he lets out a low chuckle. "I... I can't. That's something I ask myself every day. Every single day, out in the black, I'm tempted to smash the damn thing. Every day, I'm tempted to use it. I think about this... a lot. Probably more than is good for me, actually." He turns and looks at Ossanlin with a sad smile. "I'm not delusional enough to think I can ever return to the homeworld. My situation in this universe doesn't have a happy ending. Even if I manage to save my arisths, and stop whatever idiocy is happening in Sector Seven, and end the whole damn war... there's no place for me here. I... with some of the gizmos I've picked up, I'm likely to live a long, long life." He smirks. "If I survive the next week, anyway. I'd rather not live... all of that time as a homeless drifter." He laughs, but his voice grows soft. Sad. "Some part of me is still convinced that if I find just the right technology... just the right bit of information... I can make the Hope Drive take me where I want to go. I can go back to... to my homes. I can see the families I've left behind again. If I smash it, I lose that chance. I'm just... I can't give up on that. Not..." His voice drops to a whisper, and he squeezes his eyes shut, "Not yet."
He shakes his head. "The name 'Tobias' still sounds the most right, coming from an Andalite." He smiles. "At this point, I don't think I'm Jaron any more than I am Salem. Or Tobias. Or Pallas. Or any of the other identities I've taken over the years. It's like... I'm all of them, but none of them are me." He sighs. "I'm not... really sure who I am anymore. I've spent such a long time running..." His fists clench. "I won't run this time, Anda... Ossanlin. Not again. I'm in this for better or worse."
He frowns. "Why would you be willing to help me? If you're Sector Seven... shouldn't you be arresting me? Or vaporizing me and trying to steal my ship? Why... why bother hearing me out?"
Al laughs warmly. "I appreciate the permission to scan you, but I figured I'd just kind of wing it." He turns sideways to her, revealing a thick, long, maroon-colored tail, which appears to be completely stiff, made up of textureless polygons all fitted together, a bit like a poorly-rendered 3-D computer object. Al looks over his shoulder at the tail and wiggles his... posterior region back and forth a bit. As he turns, the partly-formed tail passes right through a sapling, seeming not to interact with it at all. He sighs, and the tail disappears in a brief-but-brilliant shower of sparks. "Looks like I'll have to work on that one later."
He shakes his head slowly at Dino's plea. "Leaving this place is about as bizarre and random as getting here, most of the time," he says solemnly. "Most of the time people pop in with a bang, and then sort of... fade away, without anyone really noticing. Some people do it again and again, actually. A lot of us can come and go on ships, but even that little trick's pretty iffy. The rules around here are a little different for everyone. You might hitch a ride with someone else on their ship... eh, but then you've gotta try to find someone from your reality. It's honestly a bit of a crapshoot. How'd you get here? You might try going back that way. I don't think that's ever worked before, but there's a first time for everything, right?"
He smiles encouragingly. "On the bright side, though, time here is really weird too, so you might still make it back to your friends before they even know you're gone!"
-
"Why would you do that?!" Morgan exclaimed.
Julian raised his hands and shrugged. "I'm telling you, Morgan, you've got a way with the ladies. Beats the hell out of me how."
"Are you saying I got my wife by black magic? Or are you just jealous?"
"I admit nothing," replied Julian. "All I'm saying is you should have given that nice woman on the Station a chance."
Morgan crossed his arms and glowered. "A little warning beforehand would have gone a long way. And it would have spared her a lot of embarrassment."
"My quest isn't over yet."
Morgan's eyes went wide as he turned to the bar tender and said, "I need something bigger and stronger, if you don't mind."
-
Ossanlin taps a hoof on the deck, still staring at Salem with his main eyes, his face clouding a bit before returning to its neutral expression of confident command. <<Hmm...I'm sure your capture and return to the Homeworld would net me great accolades both without and within Sector Seven. Lucky for you, I don't give a...what was the human expression again...? Ah, I don't give a "rat's ass" about any of that.>> He pauses, considering just how much to reveal to Salem. Some of what he says and does could be construed as treason. That information in the wrong hands, in the hands of someone to which he has no value, could be very dangerous indeed. When he'd returned to the Homeworld to take command of the Tyrennian, he'd felt a deep connection with Siruvan. He had only just begun to understand how he felt, but he'd been too afraid of the consequences...of telling Siruvan how he felt. He'd almost done it, but in the end, he'd wanted to spare his friend the barbs of Sector Seven, and to protect him against the pain if Ossanlin himself died in battle.
<<Sector Seven has their tails in everything. The Electorate, the military, the Academy, the labs, the shipyards...literal ly every facet of our society. I was approached by one of their representatives...a nd I was taught that you don't say 'no' to Sector Seven. After that, I was fast-tracked. I've done some things under their orders that I'm not proud of, but I had to in order to reach a position of autonomy. They don't dare reduce my rank as it is, they've made me far too important, even if I'm no-longer quite so pliable.>> He shrugs, turning away from Salem. <<Your tech could do more damage than good. I'll admit it's a temptation, but I know a little something about what happens when you shower a civilization with technology beyond their comprehension.>> He shakes his head, still regarding Salem with a stalk eye. <<Unfortunately, my peers can't see that possibility within themselves, even after releasing the Imperial plague upon the Galaxy.>>
<<As for your so-called "hopelessness," I'm not so convinced as you are. You wouldn't stay if you had no hope. Times change. People change. Minds change.>> He pauses before continuing. <<Besides...if you call this "drifting," what exactly do you call wandering aimlessly and randomly from universe to universe?>>
Ossanlin turns to look at Salem with his main eyes again, folding his arms across his chest. <<In any case, you're a trader in this universe...perhaps a trade is in order. You want my help? The price is your Hope Drive. Surrender it to me for safe-keeping. You can have it back once I consider our dealings resolved. You have my word it will not be harmed under my care.>> He arches an eyebrow at Salem. <<Trust for trust. A fair deal, I'm sure you would agree.>>
-
Outside the bar, the sounds and sights of an atmospheric reentry were obvious, the ballistic trajectory obscuring more details as the object sped through the air before slamming into the ground and skipping along before coming to a rest near the bar.
Loud banging could be heard from what was now clearly some sort of single use pod. The architecture resembled human technology, but the perhaps expected markings of government or corporation were missing. Another loud crash could be heard before the shrieking of twisting metal heralded a... manual override of the door.
A grey-haired man, long hair tied back in a ragged ponytail, squeezed through the narrow gap, stopping twice to slide back in and lever more of the malfunctioning door out of the way with a slightly bent crowbar. Continual cursing could be heard, with the man's ire directed at the pod, the alloys... even the laws of physics and the man's own fear of, of all things, time travel... all of these things and more were subjected to much foul language. After a good two minutes or so of work, the newcomer finally heaved himself from the wreck, then turned to take in his surroundings, holding the crowbar lightly in one hand.
-
(Hope this is okay...)
After a few moments, the man winced and rubbed his head with his free hand. "Ow..." he grumbled as he turned back to the pod and pulled out a large bag. Hefting it onto his shoulder, he trudged into the bar, walking right up to the bartender.
The man nodded to the bartender, who tilted his head to the side as he paused in cleaning a glass. A few more similar expressions were exchanged before the newcomer laid down a pile of small packets of jalapeno cheese spread, which the bar keep exchanged for a shot glass and a bottle of Captain Morgan. The man poured himself a shot and slammed it back, then repeated the process before turning to regard the bar patrons.
The man was dressed in a grey camouflaged uniform without any insignia, singed and tattered in spots. A Five seveN pistol sat on his hip, right next to the crowbar. He looked exhausted yet faintly curious, for a moment, before turning back to pour himself another shot.
-
Morgan and Julian paused their friendly ribbing to turn and look at the newcomer who came to sit at the bar.
"You doin ok there?" Morgan asked. The source of the voice was a dark brown minotaur, near 7 feet tall, wearing a dark green button down shirt and cargo pants.
Next to him sat Julian who was minotaur-like except stallion in appearance instead of bull. Julian was tan in color with a trimmed mane, no tail. He wore a black shirt, and dark pants.
"You're not getting out of this, Morgan," Julian commented. "My quest continues."
-
The newcomer looked over to the two with animal features, letting out a snort that didn't sound very amused at all. He slammed back his third shot, thumping his chest a few times, then answered. "That's sorta debatable. I mean, I am still breathing, no missing limbs or anythin'. Buuuut..." He paused to glare at a few hairs that had escaped his ponytail, angrily brushing them back. "Man, some weird sh*t went down. I tell you what, Never Feckin Time Travel. It don't work."
He sighed and thumped his forehead against the bar once before he poured and drank another shot. Letting out a single pleased grunt, he smiled in relaxation. "Whoop, there it is," he said with a slight slur. "So, I'm guessing you're actually not a hallucination from dir... Direct exposure to Z-space. M'name's Smith."
-
"Can't say I've heard any positive stories about time travel," Julian commented.
Morgan shook his head. "I've been called a lot of things, but never a hallucination. Name's Odysseus Morgan, most just call me Morgan. This guy over here is Julian."
-
Smith's eyes widened as he swayed a bit, looking back and forth between the minotaur and his bottle. "Are yyoou a captain too? Here sir, a shot of Captain Morgan for Captain Morgan," he proclaimed as he offered Morgan a shot, his voice slurring a bit, sounding closer to a southern American accent in contrast to the odd mixture of accents he'd been speaking in.
"Y'know, the las' cap'n I met wazz the guy who ordered me ta..." he paused, swaying and blinking. "Ta hop i' that piece of carp ou' there. Tch, told him, tol' everyone, I did. I 'magine the Yeerks caught up to em by now. Bye bye humanity!" He concluded in a falsely cheerful farewell to his kind.
-
Julian chuckled. "I like this guy already. He's fun!"
Morgan accepted the drink. "Used to be a captain for quite a while. Was how I met my wife. After she passed away, I gave that up and took a job as head of security on a space station. My crew decided at that point it was time to move on to other things, and I wasn't going to hold them back."
-
"Aw man. Sorry 'bout your wife, buddy," Smith replied softly. "S'good on ya for lettin ya crew go, though."
He hiccupped before looking around the bar again. "Ya know what's really weird? I saw this place fore I akshully arrived. And, like, I saw some of tha people 'ere. Like tha' one Annalite fella," he said, stumbling on the pronunciation because of his buzz. "R'min' me to tell 'im he's not allowed to even luuk at my timeline cause a-" he hiccupped again. "Heisenberg's Unshertainy Princibble. Whoo." He turned back to the bartender and had another silent conversation, resulting in Smith swapping another pile of jalapeno cheese spread for a pot of coffee. "F'ck yeah," he whispered as he drank straight from the pot.
-
Salem's first reaction, when Ossanlin suggests that he hang on to the Hope Drive, is one of disgust and anger- he barely keeps from snapping a curse at the Andalite- but it quickly subsides as logic catches up to emotion.
"That's... more than fair..." he says slowly, parsing the request out loud. "I'd be a fool not to agree to that. Trust for my own existence, in exchange for trust on behalf of the Andalite people." He laughs weakly and rolls his eyes. "Man, it's a bit of a different story when the shoe's on the other foot." He pauses, a small frown on his face, then shrugs one shoulder. "Definitely, I can do that. That's more than generous, War-Prince Ossanlin. I can agree to that." He straightens and gives a partial bow-- the move he'd once been taught to perform in lieu of the standard Andalite tail-salute. "You have my word, then, that I will strive to be worthy of the trust you place in me."
He laughs halfheartedly. "I know keeping the Hope Drive means that I might continue drifting. But in... in a weird way, it's become a part of who I am. Having the ability to choose... it's a freedom, in a way. Not one creature in a trillion gets to choose its home universe. In a way, losing the drive feels a little like the coward's way out. Admitting that I don't believe I'll be able to make the correct choice in the future." He snorts. "Maybe it's fear. Maybe I really am afraid that I'll never find a place for myself if I'm stuck in one little universe. But I like to think it's a reasonable, well-learned fear. I don't think I'm ready to let it go yet. As many years as I've spent in your universe, it still feels alien to me."
Salem stops talking as he thinks through what Ossanlin's said about Sector Seven. If it's as far-reaching and powerful as the Andalite says, it goes far beyond Salem's previous imaginings. "Sector Seven..." he begins haltingly. "If they have that kind of power... if they have those resources under their control..." the thought trails off, and he's silent for a moment. Finally, he sighs. "Another day, another adversary I'm underestimating." He looks into Ossanlin's main eyes. "What're the odds I could reason with them?" He sounds genuinely curious. "Or that... that someone could?"
-
Ossanlin watches the expressions play across Salem's face, but is truly surprised when the human acquiesces. He shows none of the expression upon his own face. He cringes internally at the thought of doling out the blueprints to the Andalites' most-fearsome warship, but the deal had been made, and if Ossanlin is anything, he's honest about his word. <<Very well, as soon as you hand the Hope Drive over, I'll give you a hyper-encrypted memory chip with the Mark III schematics. Any attempt to copy or otherwise modify the contents will result in the chip erasing itself immediately...I daresay even your android friend wouldn't be able to copy the complete data-set before it gets erased. It will also be set on a time-circuit. I assure you the time-circuit will keep the data for as along as it is necessary as long as you don't try to tamper with it...but it will self-erase after enough time has passed.>> He pauses, regarding Salem with his main eyes. <<I suppose if anyone can find a way around our security measures, it's you. It might even be child's play given your access to foreign technologies. But I'll have to trust you not to do anything foolish with the bounty I'm giving you. You understand that I'll be committing high treason by giving you any access to this information at all, yes? I only want you to understand the value of what you're getting, and the idiotic risk I'm taking by supplying it to you. I'm appealing to whatever senses of decency and honor you have left...do not share, disseminate, or sell this information to ANYONE. Do not use it to undermine my people. Do not use it to hurt us. Do not use it for any purpose but the noble one you've shared with me this evening.>>
Ossanlin sighs, walking a few steps away from Salem. <<I'll store the drive in a transphasic stasis capsule. It will be completely safe, assuming it doesn't intercept a quasar or something similar.>> He glances back up at Salem. <<And Tobias...do be sure to bring me the actual Hope Drive...remember, I'll know if you're lying.>> Ossanlin allows his main eyes to flash bright blue for a moment as a reminder of his capabilities.
-
Julian looked like he was having the best day ever.
"Thanks," Morgan replied. After a moment of glancing back at the andalite being indicated, Morgan commented. "You know...I don't believe Andalites or Yeerks exist where myself and Julian are from."
Julian shook his head. "When you see people like us around, you'd definitely know if there were beings like that. I don't think they exist in our universe."
"Though with access to our universe becoming so easy these days. I mean, considering how often we've gone back and forth. I'm starting to get concerned about what might happen if those Yeerks in particular were to learn about us."
Julian stared at Morgan. "You really know how to bring down a party, my friend."
-
"Mm!" Smith mumbled, raising one finger and pointing at Morgan as he finished chugging some coffee. "See, 'at's wot I mean. In my universe there's only like one mythical Minotaur from an old legend," he added, his southern accent fading back to be replaced by his odd mixture of Earth accents. British and Irish were immediately recognizable, with a faint undertone of Chinese that could be heard by someone familiar with native Chinese speakers.
-
Morgan scratched his chin. "I wonder if that story originated with someone from our universe that ended up in yours somehow. People like us are referred to as Myths in our universe. Kind of started out as a derogatory term, but we took it for ourselves. We still don't always get the best treatment from people. My wife's family was less than thrilled when they found out about us."
"Yeah," commented Julian after taking a swig of his drink. "Didn't her dad hire a hit-man to take you out?"
"Sort of."
-
"I bloody well hope not, mate, my universe is just as prejudiced as the next, I'd wager. Any of your folk'd be treated the same, 'r like a sideshow." Smith shook his head with a sigh. "Maybe that's why the Andalites didn't help us out," he said as he poured himself another shot. "People suck, man." He punctuated his statement by knocking back the shot he just poured. "Tch, can't say as I ever had any hit man sent after me though, even though I thought I was th'one with bad luck with girlfriends' parents."
-
"Her family was one hundred percent human with normal appearance. Andromeda came from a wealthy family, so her dad had some ideas about who she ought to be marrying," Morgan explained.
"And it sure wasn't some 'myth-freak cargo pilot'," Julian interjected. "That's what I believe he called you. Then again, he called me an oversized ass. He wasn't very creative with insults."
"Long story short," Morgan continued, "we got married anyway. Her dad tried to have me done away with, but when that didn't work he settled for disowning her. Luckily for him, Andromeda had a sibling he could focus on instead."
-
"Ugh, the rich ones are the worst. Man, you would not believe the fit some folks pitched when they found out currency was useless aboard the fleet." Smith paused to drink once again directly from the pot of coffee. He set it down and patted his chest with a fist, looking pleased. "Ah, good stuff. Yeah, so since the colonial fleet was real hard on extra mass. Everything got left behind. So we trade food. And jalapeno cheese spread has always been field money for Marines."
-
Myitt waves distantly at Al, still staring after the newcomer.
"Guppy, do you think we should uh, head back inside?" she asks him blankly.
--
Jorek glances imperiously at Keshin. He eyes Yeden. Then he says, "What could you possibly have to show us that would be worth our time, turelek?"
-
Keshin's expression is entirely unreadable. He ****s Joanne's head. "I imagine the two of you, having traveled throughout the vast reaches of the galaxy, and encountered more sentient species than I can even fathom...have seen a great many things. But what if I told you..."
Keshin walks at a leisurely pace back towards their table, and then meets their gaze with Joanne's hazel eyes. "...that I might just have something that you've never seen before?" For just the briefest of moments, less than a minute at best, Joanne's eye color seems much, much brighter, maybe a few stages down from emerald or malachite green. Keshin puts his own comm on the table in that same span of time. When Keshin takes his hand off it, the comm crackles and sputters, going dead. It sparks a bit, for a moment, but wood doesn't conduct electricity well.
Keshin clears his throat and coughs, expecting but not entirely thrilled with sudden nausea that takes hold of Joanne's throat and stomach that comes now from even this extremely minimal degree of discharge. Keshin grips the side of the table with Joanne's hand but maintains physical composure. Powerful anxiety takes hold of Joanne, but Keshin doesn't allow it to reach her body. Being a Yeerk had its advantages. <Kess, what, what, what the **** do you think you're doing?! Do you get what you just did?! Why in blue flaming **** would you ever---- You can't-->
<I can. And who knows? Perhaps they won't even have an interest. They'll think it's nothing, perhaps.>
-
Jorek watches, smiling impassively.
"It appears you've broken your comm link," he says lightly. "What a strange magic trick."
-
"Isn't it though?" Keshin says. The waves of disorientation cascade over them, but Keshin tries his best to ignore it. He's not doing that well. "A magician is...never supposed to reveal their secrets, but...I could show both of you..a more interesting showing. A regular phantasmagoria. Outside the Bar. Not in it." Keshin shakes his head. "Too chaotic in here to pull rabbits out of hats."
"Interested?" Keshin says, rather impassively himself for all the internal turmoil turning around inside him.
-
Jorek glances at Yeden and says, "What do you say, old friend? Shall we allow ourselves to be entertained? A moment of letting the proverbial guard down?" He snickers at this, for some unknown reason.
-
An amused smirk slowly spreads across Salem's face as Ossanlin speaks. Finally, he huffs out a halfhearted laugh. "I suppose that's about the level of trust I'm due on this rock," he says, half to himself. "I'd do a lot of things to get ahead, but intentionally endangering the Andalite people is not on that list." He bows his head to Ossanlin-- as he does, he stands straighter, and his entire bearing seems... different, somehow. More dignified, perhaps. "This means too much to me. You have my sincere gratitude, My Prince."
He looks up, ****s his head, and within a breath, his aura of civility has evaporated. He smirks. "Besides, I think you've found my ultimate collateral. I suppose I'll go grab the Hope-it-works-this-time Drive, then. Trust me, you'll know I'm not lying about this one."
He turns on a heel and walks out the open hatch, calling "You're welcome to watch, if you like," over his shoulder.
Salem strides across the yard towards his own impossibly black craft. As he nears it, the ship's ramp lowers silently to the ground.
"Guy on a mission, ho!" Al calls toward him from the treeline.
Salem grins, knowing this'll confuse Al. "Have to give a Hope Drive to an Andalite!"
For about three full seconds, Al is uncharacteristicall y speechless. Finally, he begins jogging after Salem, a look of concern on his face. "Wait, what?"
Salem comes to a stop about a third of the way up the ship's ramp and looks directly upward, at what looks to be nothing more than a copper-tinted metallic bulkhead. "It's kind of a long story, but trust me, it's worth it. We might just pull this off." Al comes to a stop near the bottom of the ramp, eyebrow raised questioningly, and the two of them stare upwards as the seemingly-solid bulkhead splits across the middle and sort of oozes off to the side.
Behind it is a tarnished, scratched, and even scorched collection of metallic-looking spheres and semi-spheres of various sizes and hues, from a huge reddish one near the center, to a fizz of silver so fine it would be at home on most beaches. It looks a little like a robot's silver bubble bath, covering an area that, all told, spans about the width of Salem's arm-span wide, and not quite twice that in length. From the 'bubble bath' run a number of... silver tentacles or cables, sunk deep into the walls of the compartment in which it sits. There's also a single black-and-white cable from the ship stuck directly into the center of the thing.
Now that the energy-absorbent bulkhead is out of the way, this thing pulses and hums with power, and the hair on Salem's arms stands on end. It doesn't glow, precisely, but it seems too bright for where it sits, as though it were sitting in a ray of sunshine. What's more, the energy coursing through it isn't limited to the physical realm-- to Salem's newest sense, the thing appears to be a... huge pocket of white noise... or a shivering, ever-shifting bright spot... a pulsing white hole of energy and... and something else...
A shiver runs down Salem's spine. If he didn't know better, he'd call that other thing intent. He finally remembers to breathe.
"I haven't opened that since Mar showed me how to see like this..." he mutters.
-
Yeden watches Keshin, head tilted slightly, curls cascading to one side. He looks almost boyish as his eyes flicker to the comm link, then back to Joanne's face. A slight smile appears on his lips. "It has been a good long time since I've had worthwhile entertainment," he concedes, though his response borders on snide and he keeps a healthy distance between himself and Jorek as he stands, brushing off his t-shirt. He gives Jorek a distasteful look. "And I can hardly see our conversation going anywhere productive."
Ardania stares at Mar with unblinking main eyes, stalks watching as the War-Prince disappears on his ship.
<I...may, admittedly, need some time to fully understand that,> she finally says, sounding a little stunned. Beneath that, though, is a hunger. An eagerness to understand and dissect and catalogue Mar...whatever he is.
-
Al shakes his head, still staring up at the thrumming Hope Drive. "Dude, I hope you know what you're doing."
"Me..." Salem stops, swallows, and tries again. "Me too." He turns to give Al what he hopes is an encouraging smile, only to find the android's back retreating towards the bar proper. So he's not happy about this. Good to know.
Doing his best to shut out the somewhat-overwhelming sensation of the drive, Salem strides the rest of the way into the ship. He rummages through a pile of exotic detritus for a few moments before emerging with a scepter-like object, about the length of his forearm, with an electronic control pad at one end and a big, faceted bulge at the other. He punches the control pad, frowns, and then spends a few more moments cursing to himself and rummaging through the pile. When he finally emerges with a greenish, glowing cylinder, he slides an identical cylinder out of the control-pad end of the device, letting it clatter to the floor, and slides the new one in with a click. He punches the control pad again, nods to himself, and heads back to his place under the hope drive.
He keys in a sequence of some sort on the control pad, and aims the bulb-end of his scepter up at the Hope Drive. A bubble of air around the drive shimmers and shifts, and a barely-perceptible force field snaps into place around it. With a thought-speak command, the ship's clamps release the drive, which shudders slightly and drops a few inches before being caught by the antigravity force field. The dust that drifts down around it, seemingly unaffected by the antigravity, shines in the same unseen light as the Hope Drive itself. Salem slowly guides the scepter towards the floor, and the Hope Drive drops with it, right out of the space in the ceiling. As it drops out of its rectangular compartment, it trails its effervescent, wispy tentacles, which stretch and break like cotton candy, leaving the ends to sway gently in the breeze, reminiscent of cobwebs hanging from the ceiling of Salem's ship.
The compartment in which the drive had been housed was, at one point, the same 'dark gold' color as the rest of the ship's interior, but now it's covered completely in the same effervescent, ethereal 'fizz' that makes up the Hope Drive itself, as though the thing had grown in place. Indeed, dust drifts lazily downward after the drive, sparkling in a nonexistent light.
Salem closes his eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath. He lets go of his 'scepter,' which continues to float in place. Steeling himself, he jumps up onto the drive-- it seems completely unaffected by his touch. Though Salem's face is a grimace, there is no obvious physical change. Salem reaches down and grabs the end of the thick black-and-white cable, still connecting the compartment above to the Hope Drive below, and begins to pull. The cable, too, seems to be partly covered in the minuscule beads that make up the drive, as though they've crept up it over the years.
For a few moments, nothing happens, but finally, there's a crack like breaking styrofoam, and several feet of cable come free from the drive all at once, along with a small cloud of brilliant dust, swirling and glowing as though in a sunbeam. Salem loses his balance and tumbles backward off the drive, cable still in hand.
For a few moments, he simply lies there, on his back, staring up into the space the drive had been. Already the unseen light that seems to shine on the remains up there seems to be dimming in fits and pulses.
Al enters the bar and looks around. His face breaks into a smile, and he calls towards Morgan. "Eyyy, Morgan," he says, in a melodramatically-thick Italian accent. "It's-a me! Alfredo!" He shoots a wink at Keshin-- they seem to be engaged in something pretty intense over there-- and steps into the bar with a smile on his face. The bartender looks at him quizzically, but Al shakes his head. "I'm staying sober for at least a few minutes. Let's just start with a large iced motor oil and go from there."
-
Morgan looks over from his reading as Al comes up to the bar. "How's it goin?"
Julian was next to him polishing his competition sword, which he insisted on carrying with him at all times. Either he liked being dramatically prepared, or didn't want to leave it out of his sight. Morgan was certain it could be both.
-
Al grins. "As well as can be expected for an upbeat android in a smelly hellhole. And the bar that hellhole is currently parked at," he says with a wink at the utterly-nonplussed bartender. He smacks Morgan jovially on the back as he sits down next to him, and gives a low whistle when he sees Julian's sword. "Pretty piece of iron you've got there, Julian," he says appreciatively. He looks from one to the other. "So what've my two favorite Myths been up to since we last saw each other? Quietly staying out of trouble like good boys?" He bats his eyelashes innocently.
Salem stands up and dusts himself off, his back pointedly to the all-consuming extrasensory hum of the Hope Drive. He reaches around and grabs the scepter-like device. He pulls on it for a few moments, leaning in the direction of Ossanlin's ship, until the entire mass of glittering bubbles that is the drive glides above the grass behind him.
As he trudges forward, he tries to concentrate on anything-- his footsteps, the setting sun, the swaying of the trees in this impossible little planetoid's light breeze-- anything at all to get his mind off of the sensation of the drive behind him. Even so, by the time he finally skids to a stop in front of the open hatch of the Mirage, the drive has become a dull roar of static, an inexorable tide battering against his mind.
He closes his eyes, breathes slowly, and tries to clear his mind of the sensation. This is so much harder than he'd anticipated.
Finally, he clears his throat and calls into the ship, "Special delivery!"
-
Julian nodded. "Back at home this beauty has won me quite a few tournaments. Wouldn't have thought the sport would be popular much these days, but it took off running."
Morgan chuckled. "Trouble has a way of finding us, it seems. Decided to leave the cargo business and picked up a job as head of security on a space station. Had some leave coming and---"
"You mean they MADE you take the leave," Julian interrupted. "You need to relax, my friend. Meet some people. Mingle. It won't kill you."
"Julian is intent on playing matchmaker," Morgan commented as he shot Julian a glare.
-
Ossanlin rubs his temples as he begins the process of downloading and encrypting Mark III Dome schematics onto the self-terminating chip. Of course life consisted of shades of gray. But this is about as 'gray' as Ossanlin has ever gone. High treason against his own people...well...per haps not. After all, in the past reality, he'd actually stolen his ship and defected along with a number of his own crew. In a way, this is almost more difficult. Less clear. If one thing could've been said about Rogue Element, it was that he'd never been surer of his allies. Of course, the thought of never seeing the Homeworld again...of never seeing mother and father...of never seeing Siruvan had been almost intolerable. He blinks his main eyes and shakes his head. There it was again...
Well, if this reality would have him walk the path of blades upon the heights, he would do so with the utmost grace and composure. About halfway through the process, Salem's voice jogs him out of his reverie. The external camera shows him along with the strange, foam-like device. It almost looked like a study in what technology might look like under water. It was also significantly larger than he'd expected. <Enter. We'll have to rendezvous with the Tyrennian. I assume you don't object to riding along?>
-
"Good," Keshin says, standing up from his chair. "This will definitely catch your attention. And, I'm sure, entertain you. We'll do it outside near the entrance to the Bar, off at an angle where we can't be seen. I'm fairly certain that, in all of your travels across space, you will not have witnessed such a show." Keshin smiles thinly and then heads for the door to the Bar, exiting into the perpetually lukewarm-yet-cool night air of the place.
Joanne's voice bristles and scrambles at the edges of Keshin's mind. <Kess, we ****in' can't, I swear ta god. Those bastards are Councilors for sure, if they find out the Empire will know! And we don't know what they will do! We have Ossanlin's offer. We can't--->
<We can. I can position us well. Joanne...what exactly has being in hiding all of these years done for us? What exactly has doing whatever keeps our freedom done for you? We are getting too close to death. This might be the only opportunity I have to show them outside the sight of any Visser, any party that could possibly interfere and take advantage. I have to try for my own sake. Whatever connection there is between us, and Ossanlin, whatever it is he remembers, we don't remember it anymore. Can we actually make a bet on what could have been rather than what is? We are betting with our very lives, and we have something to sell that no one else will ever have.>
Joanne falls silent. <...thought we were trying to trust him. You convinced me.> The hurt was etched into her voice, but it didn't reach Keshin's body. He stood outside, waiting. <You wanted it. To get rid of it. To use the Cube. We'd be free. We wouldn' need to take stuff like this anymore. We could do whatever we wanted. If we show them it, we might lose that chance.>
Keshin was silent. He didn't have the ability to justify what he was doing. Keshin would have liked to say that he saw the obvious right in front of his face: that the options were either obtaining and using a cure, and fading into obscurity- or with careful negotiations obtaining enormous wealth and power for the both of them. It was likely that that was merely a flimsy justification, though. He was simply a liar. And liars take whatever opportunities they are given.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mar smiles at Ardania and stands closer to her. "I imagine so," he says. "Ask me whatever you'd like. I would be happy to indulge your curiosity to its limit." He gestured outside. "After all, this is a place that, while it answers no questions itself, seems to welcome curiosity."
-
Al laughs warmly in response to Morgan' and Julian's banter. "You might have to show me a few moves at some point," he says to Julian, leaning his chair back. "I can do a few neat things with swords, but nothing... like, tournament-worthy. I'm not sure swordplay is something I could or would pick up, but I'd love to see a master in action."
He laughs at Morgan. "Heh. A workaholic, eh? Had to be forced to take a day off for your own good? I think you're a man after my own heart. Only my addiction is alcohol. I'm not sure if there's a word for that." He grins at his stupid joke. "Julian's right, though. It'll do you good to take a load off for a while. Sit down. Hang out. You can tell me all about your time on this space station... but I think only after you've let your... er... horns down for five minutes, and stop worrying about your work." He smiles brightly at the pair of them. "Do either of you dance? We could start there."
He turns to watch as Keshin leaves the bar, and a look of concern crosses his face. "They seem... worried..." he says aloud, inviting Morgan and Julian to follow his gaze.
It takes Salem a few moments to master the shock of apprehension and excitement that goes through him at Ossanlin's mention of visiting the Tyrennian. He hadn't been expecting that.
Forcing his face into a neutral expression, he says, "Um... no objection at all." He's sure it's come across as being a little too enthusiastic, but even now, even in this situation, the technical side of him can't help getting excited at the prospect of visiting the cutting-edge masterpiece of a Mark III Dome Ship. And he's heard so much about the Tyrennian through the years.
With some effort, he manages to drag the massive Hope Drive aboard the Mirage, only bumping the walls a few times as he does so.
He grits his teeth and says, maybe a bit too loudly, "Tell me where to stash this thing." What he'd really like right now is to be anywhere away from the drive.
-
Ossanlin trots a bit closer, looking at the device with all four eyes. His eyes flash blue for a moment and he quickly determines that the thing is almost otherworldly, and Salem truly believes it's the actual Hope Drive, so Ossanlin has no reason to doubt it. <Good, just...leave it here in the lounge.> Ossanlin finally manages to tear his eyes away from the thing. His head feels almost achy...he shakes it a bit as he makes his way up to the flight deck.
<You do have an andalite morph, yes? You'll have to use it. I've brought humans on the ship before, but if your face is known as a criminal, it might bring up questions I'd rather leave in the dust. I want this to go as smoothly as possible.> He starts the warmup sequence on the Mirage's engines and retracts the hatch, sealing them both inside the ship.
<Once onboard the Tyrennian, we'll take the item straight to the science lab so we can package it for Z-Space immediately.> He glances back at Salem with his stalk eyes. <We'll use a terfin cypher. I assume you're familiar with the technology? It'll shunt the capsule out of phase into Z-Space, when it does, it will immediately transfer one-half of the retrieval cypher to each of our translation chips. In other words, neither of us will be able to readily, or reliably, retrieve the capsule without the other.> He pauses, shrugging slightly. <Or to be more-specific, without the other's translation chip.>
-
"Anytime!" Julian replied. "It would be nice to have someone to practice with. Gotta keep the skills sharp for when I hit the tournaments again."
While Al spoke towards Morgan, Julian was nodding. "See, Morgan? I'm not the only one telling you to ease up. It's been a few years now, and it's time to stop being so rigid."
Morgan was silent for a moment as he stared at his drink. After taking a sip, he said, "Haven't done any dancing since my wedding. But I'll gladly tell you about the space station."
-
Jorek sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Internally, he wonders aloud, <<Why bother with this farce? I've got better things to do.>>
<<Because you're bored,>> his host, Jonathan, intones flatly. <<Isn't it obvious?>>
Jorek eyes Yeden, then nods at Keshin's back. "Shall we, then?" He peels himself from the booth, straightening his crisp black uniform and playing a bit with his gelled dirty blonde hair. He leans over and claps Yeden on the shoulder in a friendly gesture, then follows Keshin out the door.
"Well," says the Councilor, boots crunching on the gravel. "This had better be good, Keshin. Taking us out of sight to see your little magic trick is already making me grouchy. Not to mention wasting my time. What have you got that's so shockingly entertaining?" He sets his hands on his hips and peers curiously at the bounty hunter, utterly unconcerned.
-
When Keshin sees Jorek follow him in moments, he swallows. His gut's suddenly twisted in a knot. This would be nearly the first time any Imperial official --- who was still alive to tell the tale, that is --- had actually seen Joanne's..."ability." Keshin tries to block out Joanne's cries of panic and grits one of his hands into a fist.
"Watch," Keshin intones calmly.
Keshin levels out his breathing and focuses on the overeager, powerful, painful pulse of energy that writhed its way constantly through Joanne's body, hungry for cells to consume and convert. He had never adequately determined what sort of mutation it was or how it had happened, to any extent. Joanne certainly hadn't either. What he knew about it is that it was a ravenous and raging creature, and that this little stunt would most likely put both of them completely out of commission within an hour. In their last use of this in the GESB, they had very nearly died. Nonetheless, Keshin pushes the pulse upward from the ground towards Joanne's hands, opening them. The ground just underneath them makes a crackling sound as what look like white-hot sparks of lightning pulse up her legs and body. Keshin grits his teeth at the pain of the process. They used to scream, many years ago. Their outfit was designed not to singe upon contact, but the same couldn't necessarily always be said of Joanne's flesh. If they didn't move or release it, they risked being quite badly burned. Truth be told they'd probably be burned regardless.
Keshin suddenly darts, like a blur, directly behind Jorek in less than a second. "Here." Keshin then reappears in the original spot Keshin was standing, again with barely a black-brown blur to indicate the movement. It was hard to follow. "Here." Keshin winces one eye shut and shows Jorek Joanne's palm. Little arcs of energy are traveling up and down it and around Keshin's arm. "....I can fire it, like Palpatine..." The arcs briefly travel rapidly in circles, as if he were going to throw it outward. "...but it's better direct, like a....more effective taser..." Keshin grips Joanne's fist and closes the effect. The light dies down and fades. He tries hard to keep his balance, but it's a struggle. He needs to keep enough control and breath in her lungs so that he looks like he can control it better than they actually can, these days.
<My god what the **** have you done, Kess.>
-
Jorek watches - or tries to - with complete surprise. Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't this.
"How?" he asks, eyes narrowing. "It's no technology I've ever seen, or heard of."
<<Like a superhero,>> Jonathan comments.
Jorek ignores him and steps forward, observing Keshin's barely controlled calm. "You're trembling," he remarks.
-
Keshin looks at them firmly, trying to get his twitching and shuddering under control. Dammit. He takes a deep breath and says, "...I don't know. My host was, apparently...actual ly born like this. Some sort of one-in-a-million mutation, as detrimental as it is spectacular and useful. I've never had anyone study it, because the risk would have been too profound. I'm in the turelek business in large part to the service of that...condition." The condition that is burning, burning, burning us on the inside. Like cooked meat. That's what it feels like. Keshin continues without skipping a beat this time. "My only question to you gentlemen is..."
Keshin points a hand to his chest. "...is whether you see it as something you're interested in. You previously wondered aloud whether I had anything to offer you...and that's it. The ability to utilize, control, and potentially duplicate...that. Well, that, and my prodigious skills in the assassination and/or acquiring things department."
-
Jorek's eyes are lit up like a kid at Christmas. And he shakes his head, and laughs, smiling at them.
"Amazing," he says with admiration, walking around her, a hand to his chin. "No wonder the rumors about you were so prolific. Yes, we might just have a lot to talk about, Keshin. Quite a lot. And the pay is good, good enough to keep you alive and comfortable. If you'd allow my medical ship to examine you, there may be a way to...abate the symptoms, if not provide a complete cure."
<<But where's the fun in that?>> he says to himself. Jonathan doesn't bother to answer.
-
<Kess...you can't. You can't sell us out to the Empire. You just can't.> He could tell there would be tears in her eyes if she was in control of her own body. Thankfully, he was, and over the years he'd mastered the kind of precision he'd needed to handle someone so full of rage, excitement, and fear. <...we might never get to go back to how things were, if we did it. We could get...trapped. Isn't that why you left? Why we left? Why we never joined the rebels, neither? What the hell are you doin' to us?>
"Four conditions," Keshin says, holding up his hand and his fingers in the order that he lists them. "One: No one else uses my host, except with my explicit permission. I have gone through a great deal of trouble to keep things as they are, up to and including killing my fair share of people. Two: Connected to Condition One, if I am to feed at all onboard any craft you control, it will be entirely alone, and my host remains armed. We operate more or less in tandem with one another. Three: I will witness or be present internally for any procedure or action you perform on my host, and I will assent to any procedure or it will not happen. Four: The only progress I have made with respect to the disease course is preventing it from getting any worse, in the form of medication with metabolic and anti-carcinogenic effects. I have also acquired and utilized epigenetic primers of the sort possessed by Yeerks who wish to prevent adverse gene expression in their preferred hosts. Whatever you pay me, it must cover these."
Keshin raises an eyebrow. "And if you think I won't find a way out if you renege on any aspect of the deal, I think you vastly underestimate me. Let alone my host."
<...what the hell makes you think I'd help you if you got us into this mess?> Joanne's tone was bitter.
<I am not trying to hurt us!> Keshin's voice was insistent and strong. <I am trying to end our worries right here and now. And I don't just mean the disease. Don't be soft on this. Do you actually want to live hand to mouth, misery to misery, into eternity until the day we expire? I told you from the moment we made our accord that we would never be dependent on anyone else's kindness or generosity. These are things we cannot trust. And I am holding to that deal. Money talks. But power speaks before the Senate.>
<If there is one thing I ****in' know, Kess, it's never to trust a politician. Or a cop. Or a fed. They will always stab you in the back the first chance they get. And if you have somethin' they want? They'll dig their knife up your stomach until they can see out the other side. Owin' the Andalite somethin' for 'im 'bein' nice, maybe helpin' us to live? Wouldn' be so bad.>
-
Jorek listens patiently as the exhausted bounty hunter lists his terms.
"I think that each of those conditions are exceedingly attainable," he says, waiting with arms crossed while Keshin consults with his host. "Tell me more about the medication you need, and I will see to the cost."
And he waits. Finally he sighs and says, "Pardon the interruption, but is there some issue here?"
-
Cletus looks down at his empty glass and shakes his caprine head. “Could’a sworn I was just talkin’ to someone,” he mumbles as he pours himself another glass of whiskey. Indeed, the glass that Truth Seeker had been drinking out of had vanished, or at least, that’s how it seems.
Cletus glances at his half-burned cigar and realizes that the burning cherry at the end had already extinguished itself. Putting aside his confusion, he lights the cigar again and takes a deep drag on it, letting out a soft cough nearly as soon as the certainly-not-tobacco smoke hits his lungs. Maybe drinkin’ and smokin’ wasn’t the best idea, he thinks to himself. Shrugging under his massive coat, Cletus quickly downs his drink and reaches for the bottle to pour another.
-
Salem nods and gladly leaves the Hope Drive, along with his levitation rod, floating in the center of the lounge. As he stumbles towards the flight deck, the overwhelming sensation of the drive abates.
After a few slow breaths, he's able to push the tension aside, and finally process what Ossanlin's just said to him. "Um..." he begins stupidly. An Andalite morph? It hits him now-- he's looking at heading back to the Andalites. Temporarily, and only aboard a dome ship, but it'll still be a slice of Andalite society. Suddenly, his mouth has gone dry.
"Yeah," he says. "Yeah... yeah, I have an Andalite morph."
Some part of his brain registers what he would normally perceive as a veiled threat... or warning? in Ossanlin's words, but he ignores it, and takes a few seconds to gather his wits. This isn't like him.
Finally, he manages a weak smirk. "Terfin cypher. Probably a good idea. I wish I could offer similar assurances for the information you've entrusted me with, but it seems you've got that covered, too." He laughs weakly. "Let me let Al know what's up, then we can... we can go."
He reaches inside his cloak, and from an internal pocket produces something that somewhat resembles a handheld microphone. He speaks into it, "Hey, Al, Oss and I're headed up to his dome ship for a bit. We shouldn't be long."
There's a pause before Al's voice says from the device, "Just be careful."
Salem swallows- Al's tone sounded concerned, and less-than-happy about the situation. He stuffs the device back in his cloak and looks at Ossanlin. "Let's do this thing."
Al nods at Morgan. "Badass sword-horse is right, man. It can take a while to wind down out of 'working all the time until you die' mode, but it's worth staying off long enough to relax once in a while. As a full-time party machine, I consider myself an expert on the subject. Sometimes, you just need a vacation."
He turns towards the guy with the cigar and calls, "Oy! You! Come join us! Drinking's more fun in..." he frowns and looks back at the pair before him, making a show of squinting at Morgan and Julian and counting on his fingers. "...Quartets!" He turns back to the Myths and drops his voice. "Y'all don't mind, right? He looks like he could use the company."
He settles back into his chair and takes a swig of his tankard of motor oil. As he wipes away the oil-moustache above his ****-eating grin, he says to Morgan, "So what's the deal with this space station?"
-
"Hear that, Morgan?" Julian said. "Listen to sword-horse. Andromeda wouldn't want you to do this to yourself, and you know it."
Morgan didn't say anything, but Julian could tell he was mulling things over. When Al hollered at someone else to come over, and asked if they minded Morgan shook his head. "I don't mind at all. More the merrier."
After taking a sip of his drink, Morgan said, "Well, the Space Station Athena is meant to be a hub for different planets to have a more or less neutral place to meet or do commerce with other planets. I was head of security there, which was interesting because there were a couple of times I had to stop someone from rushing a diplomatic meeting."
-
Ossanlin dials up a medium burn and the Mirage lifts from the ground, sliding gracefully up into the sky of the small planetoid. He sends out a quick communication letting the Tyrennian know he'd be returning for a short bit. According to the monitors, the current configuration of Z-Space would let them reach the Tyrennian in about thirty standard minutes.
As they clear the Space Bar's gravity well, Ossanlin dials up the Z-Drive and the stars stretch into blank whiteness. <We have thirty minutes until we reach the Tyrennian. So...> He turns his main eyes to regard Salem. <I hope you remember enough to...what would Myitt say...to "bull****" your way through any encounters that may crop up. It's not uncommon for me to round up strays at the Bar, my crew won't be surprised, but they may ask about who you are and how you ended up where you were simply as a genial gesture. You should choose a name and think up a simple, believable backstory. I'm sure you can manage that.>
He leaves the Mirage under the nav-com's control and descends back into the lounge, staring at the strange device simply levitating there. <This looks very nearly like some sort of liquid technology. Very rare...nearly all technology aside from bio-tech is based outside of any liquid phases.> He keeps a stalk-eye on Salem as he walks around the Hope Drive, examining it. <I don't suppose you have any idea of how it even works, do you?>
-
The corners of Cletus’s mouth turn up as he hears somebody call over to him. He shifts his glance to the Bartender and politely asks for three more glasses before stuffing his bottle of whiskey into the interior of his coat. Taking the glases that the Bartender provided, he shuffles over to the table.
“Was startin’ to think no one wanted me around,” Cleatus jokes as his hooves clack rhythmically on the floor. He sets the glasses on the table and settles into a chair that’s maybe a little too small for his giant stature, pulling the bottle from out of his coat and pouring a glass for everyone. “Hope I wasn’t interruptin’ anythin’ too important,” he says with a chuckle. Taking a quick glance at the other patrons, he takes a thoughtul puff on his cigar. “So,” he grunts from behind a small cloud of smoke, “what can I do ya’ for?”
-
Al keeps an eye on Morgan when Julian mentions Andromeda, even as he takes a swig of his drink. He doesn't, however, say anything.
He sits forward in his seat, clearly interested, when Morgan speaks of his time aboard the Space Station Athena. "Whoa," he says. "Head of security. Way to go, man. That sounds... well, nerve-wracking. I couldn't pull that stuff off." He grins at Julian. "So when someone charges a diplomatic meeting, do you just... like... tackle them to the ground? What's the station like? What about the cuisine?" He turns to Julian, "Is that where you've been? They have a pretty decent sports scene there? What's the gambling like on your tournaments usually?"
He laughs, cutting himself off before he can go on any more, and turns to the newcomer at the table. He holds out a hand to shake, "Name's Al. The minotaur is Morgan, and the horse-headed badass is Julian," he says, indicating the other two at the table in turn. "We're just hanging out, swapping stories. Care to join us?"
Salem nods. He's tense and, now, distracted trying to figure out what kind of 'stray' he can be. "May I?" he asks, indicating the nearest auxiliary interface console. Without waiting for an answer, he taps the console. Between the physical interface and his thought-spoken commands, it only takes him a moment to produce an internal force-field in the rough shape of a chair. After a moment's consideration, he shrugs and melts into it. He looks as exhausted as he feels.
"Backstory shouldn't be too hard," he says, letting his eyes slide closed. "Is the fourth fleet still deployed near the Eliarat Nebula?"
He opens his eyes briefly and glances at Ossanlin, but it's clear he has no desire to move closer to the Hope Drive. "It doesn't seem like it's tied to our... timeline, exactly. Or even to our dimensions. Or our reality. It's really interesting to look at, to take readings of, to speculate on..." He sighs. "I've got speculation and hypotheses on how it works, but unfortunately my attempts at... involved experimentation... tend to land me in another universe entirely." He says it matter-of-factly, with no hint of resentment or disappointment.
-
"Depends on the situation," Morgan replied. "I've got a weapon I can use if needed, though I'd prefer not to discharge it in the station. In this case, when the culprit saw me charging at him panic kept him from trying anything. There have been a few occasions where someone tried to fight back."
Morgan pointed to a large scar on his arm. "This one's from a smuggler trying to move goods through the station. Managed to get a laser knife through customs. As far as cuisine goes, there's just about anything anyone could want. Most of the planets that do commerce within the station, or have delegates in residence, have a space with their local foods available. Can't say I've ever been anywhere quite like the Station. Thought I'd found my place traveling on my ship, but I think that Station is where I belong."
"It's good to hear you say that, Morgan," Julian commented. "You've been pretty uneasy for a while, and I agree that since you took that job you've been more relaxed than ever. And, as to your question. I've done a few small tournaments there, but those are few and far between. The whole process of getting my sword through customs and the security measures that gotta be in place for something like that on the station are crazy."
"You're telling me," Morgan interrupted. "I'm the one that has to oversee all that. Gives me a headache every damn time."
Julian gave Morgan a look. "I'll be sure to petition for more of them there."
Morgan only glared as he took a swig of his drink.
"Mostly I planet hop for competitions. Not sure what the odds are on competitors these days, been on a bit of a sabbatical. Training and such."
-
Grinning widely at Al, the goat-man gently shakes his hand. "Pleasure to meet ya'," he remarks, holding his drink up in a "cheers" gesture. "You can call me Cletus. And believe you me, you don't wanna know what that's short for." He takes a small sip of his drink, forgoing the large gulps that he'd been partaking in earlier. "Problem with this stuff is, it never lasts as long as you wish it does," he says to nobody in particular.
Cletus looks at Al behind slightly reddened but still intelligent eyes. "Al, you said?" Cletus leans forward and absentmindedly rubs at tuft of fur on his chin. "I'll be honest with you, mistah Al, you seem interestin' to me." His friendly grin slowly turns into a thoughtful stare, trying to get any sort of information that he can from behind Al's synthetic eyes. "Maybe it's just the drink talkin', or maybe it's just that yer drinkin' motor oil of all things, but I'm willin' to bet you got some stories worth sharin'." His mouth turns back upward into an inviting smile. "So, what's yer story?"
-
He had not intended to arrive in this place. Where in the galaxy was this place? It seemed strange, and it invoked interest in the Andalite.
Jamilan kept his tailblade at the ready as he stepped from the fighter, glancing at the area around him, and at what ships were here, to try to gauge what he was dealing with. He was more than cautious; he was alert and ready as he made his way towards the entrance.
((Sorry if that is short, hoping to get myself involved in this soon once I can figure out what's going on in it!))