Galaxy's Edge Space Bar

[Aluminator (Kit)]

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?"

[Terenia]

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?"

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

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?"

[Aluminator (Kit)]

"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?"

[Shenmue654]

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."

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

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.

[Terenia]

"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.

[guitarhero01234]

"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!?"

[Aluminator (Kit)]

"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.

[Terenia]

"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?"

[Aluminator (Kit)]

"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?"

[Terenia]

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?"

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

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.

[Aluminator (Kit)]

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]

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.