Al excitedly threw the ball with a flourish to his right. Since the ball was only a projection, it could only appear to be behind the wall, but it took off bouncing around the room. Al took control of the projection from within the ship's computer, making it move in erratic patterns.
Salem frowned at the weapons rack, trying to decide on a weapon, as he responded to Ossanlin. "I'm a trader, Andalite. Just making use of what I have in stock." He finally sighed and grabbed a bulky pistol with three scythe-like blades arching out in front of the barrel. It was the same model as the one he'd used to escape the Yeerks that had chased him here, but that had been custom, with blades of pure silver; this was IPA standard issue, with stabilizing blades of dragon scales. Salem hated the standard-issue version of this gun for the same reason it had been retired from service; low durability. Still, it was probably his best bet at the moment. He stuck it into the holster at his belt, which expanded to be able to hold the pistol. He then moved to the right side of the rack and grabbed three cylinders- one was the type of smoke grenade he'd used on Temrash. The others were different colors. He stuck them into three slots on his belt, then stroked the wall near the rack, causing it to close.
He spun around with a grin. "Alright, pardners, everybody off my ship."
