Galaxy's Edge Space Bar

[Terenia]

"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]

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. 

[Terenia]

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]

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?"

[Terenia]

"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.

[yunyun]

Citrus walked over to the line, and lined up, waiting to order something.

[Myitt]

"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?"

[Terenia]

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."

[Myitt]

"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.

[Terenia]

"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."

[Myitt]

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.

[Terenia]

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.

[Myitt]

"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?"

[Terenia]

"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.

[Myitt]

"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."