Galaxy's Edge Space Bar

[Forlin]

<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.>

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

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.>



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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]

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]

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.

[Aluminator (Kit)]

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."

[Shenmue654]

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.

[Terenia]

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?"

[Myitt]

"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?"

[guitarhero01234]

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?"

[Myitt]

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."

[Aluminator (Kit)]

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."

[Terenia]

"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?"

[Leona]

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.

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

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.>

[Aluminator (Kit)]

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?"