Galaxy's Edge Space Bar

[Chad32]

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.

[Terenia]

"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.

[Darth Revan]

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?"

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

~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.

[Darth Revan]

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.

[Shenmue654]

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]

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!"

[Terenia]

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]

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.

[Chad32]

"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. "

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

~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?>

[Chad32]

<Yes sir. To my knowledge she is alive.> Claxter said apathetically. <I'm just happy you are also alive, and hopefully will soon recover.>

[Blazing Angel]

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.

[Terenia]

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.

[Darth Revan]

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."