Galaxy's Edge Space Bar

[Shenmue654]

Keshin smirks slightly. "And in your book, drawing the ire of the Andalite militia is a problem? Your Eminence, our entire race has drawn the Andalite militia's ire for at least the next half century. A change in infiltration tactics is not going to make that much better or worse than the festering bog pit that it is. Unless..." Keshin gets a slightly more interested expression on his face. "...by chance you're talking about it in the United States' sense of that word...and that odd rumor making its way across Earthbound fuel depots?"

Keshin, of course, was referencing an odd (and juicy) bit of information that Keshin generally took with a grain of salt: that a ship's worth of stranded Andalites were engaging in guerrilla warfare against the Imperial invasion force on Earth. Keshin and Joanne had left the planet a few years before the rumor had started getting interesting, so they didn't know much about it on the whole. It was possible that the the Councillor did though, which was worthy of further probing at least. "I had always assumed that that was a...pardon my English, but a load of bullocks. Are you simply the type to believe in obscure rumors, or is there some kind of confirma---"

Keshin suddenly stopped speaking as the oddest thought speech voice he'd ever heard broadcasted spontaneously through his head. He gave the two Councilors a quizzical look, and then said, "...should we...check it out?"
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Jeffrey sits up suddenly with an incredulous expression. The...thing...that had just walked in was somehow, if anything, more bizarre than anyone he'd met so far, and that was really saying something. Jeffrey stands up and saunters over to the creature, staring openly at him. "...the **** are you supposed to be? You look like the back end of a condor and the front end got thrown into a blender with an accordion! My god was the Drake equation off. And uhhh, sorry to disappoint you, but Batman and Superman and that sorta thing are like, nowhere around here. Disappointing, I know. This place could use a bit more crazy."
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"You were actually constructed to draw inordinate amounts of attention to yourself?" Mar says to Al quizzically. "I mean that explains...a lot...but why? I mean no offense, but most people tend to desire robots that are inconspicuous. Helper types." Mar shrugs.

He then turns back to the young Andalite that Ossanlin was speaking with, listening carefully to their conversation. Mar raises an eyebrow as Ossanlin tries to disclaim his fame. "From what I've heard and seen, War-Prince, whatever they might say about you could hardly be more exaggerated than the real thing." He then gives Ardania a pleasant smile and sends along a brief fraction of his aura and a thought speech statement to test the waters. It would register as slightly condescending and suffocating to most people, but with a strong tinge of security and warmth added. <<By the way, if it makes you more comfortable, it appears as though I am fluent in a more...natural form of speech this time. >>

[DinosaurNothlit]

Truth Seeker backed up a step as a possibly hostile alien strode towards him.  It took a couple moments for his translator chip to make sense of the new language, but the linguistic structure was simple enough, and so he was able to understand almost everything after the phrase 'sorry to disappoint you.'  The translator didn't have translations for 'Batman' or 'Superman,' though.  Names, perhaps?  Names weren't usually translated by the chip.  But why was this alien saying that the two named individuals weren't here?  Truth Seeker had not asked about- oh!  Suddenly, it hit him what the alien must have meant.

<This 'Batman' and 'Superman,' they are fictional characters in your society?> Truth Seeker inquired, barely able to contain his excitement.  Here was a chance to learn about an alien culture!  To learn of new myths and legends!  <I am not searching specifically for either of them in particular, but would you mind telling me more about them?>

Truth Seeker had glanced down at his crystal-ball-computer device as he spoke, his gaze wandering over the screen just long enough to suggest that something might be amiss with what he saw.  But, after a very brief confused expression, he shook his head slightly, seeming to brush it off as his imagination, and turned his attention back to Jeffrey.

If anybody was at the correct angle to see the screen of the Iskoort's device, called a 'Cons-fi Reader,' they would see a video feed of the Bar, as seen from a camera on the front of the device.  Around each patron was a halo of indigo light, representing their 'consciousness field.'  Jeffrey's field was slightly brighter than the others, with thin tendrils snaking from the main glow, and the three Yeerkish patrons each had two fainter glows, mostly but not quite perfectly overlapping one another.  Truth Seeker had noticed none of this, since he was in the habit of simply disregarding the data from 'non-fictional' entities.

However, there were also several hazy shapes of the same indigo light, many of them gathered around the Bar's bookshelf, that didn't seem to be associated with anything that could be seen with the naked eye.  They were fuzzy like television static, and faint enough that they could be interpreted as some kind of interference that the device was picking up.  But, somehow, these indistinct glowing shapes darted about, almost ominously, flitting between shadows, like predators waiting in the dark.  A few of them had stopped moving, almost as if they were watching Truth Seeker.  As if they knew that he could see them, and they didn't like being seen . . .

[Terenia]

Yeden scoffs. "The Andalites have focused the vast majority of their firepower on false leads and presumptions...some thing they are rather good at. The moment they think an open war is imminent, they will--"

He cuts off, interrupted by thought-speak. His immediate response is to spring to his feet, looking for the Andalite...but no, the thoughts penetrated his mind in the same way as an Andalite, but the tenor was different. His gaze falls on the newest patron of the bar, eyes widening.

"What, by the Kandrona, is that?" he asks, sounding more fascinated than alarmed, though one hand does drift to his holster.


Ardania's main eyes don't leave Ossanlin as he speaks. Despite her obvious exhaustion she regards him with the expression of one meeting a myth or a fairy tale. <I...yes, sir. I will take whatever services are available.> One stalk eye darts to Al, the other to Mar. She hasn't reacted to either of their words, except to shoot them curious, albeit wary, looks. <May I ask what these creatures are, sir?>

Then Mar speaks in her mind and she jumps. <You are capable of thought-speak?> she asks, surprised.

[Shenmue654]

Jeffrey threw up his hands in a shrug and said, "Sure, why the hell not?" He grinned. "Don't have anything better to do. So, Batman and Superman are two of the superhero fictional characters that made it through the collapse of my whole society. They were created more than a thousand years before I was even born. Batman's like..." Jeffrey frowned. He had no idea how to convey the idea of 'Batman' to a species that might not even know what humans could do and what antiheroes and Hypers were. "...he's somebody who does Hero stuff without being a Super. Without powers beyond what normal Mundane humans can do. So basically he protects people from bad guys--Villains--- who don't have powers either, and also just regular old thieves and crooks. Where I'm from, what Batman does is called 'being a Hyper,' and strictly speaking it's illegal. People without powers aren't supposed to be heroes or villains."

"Superman, though, he's a pretty standard Hero! Granted, nobody on my whole world has got as many powers as him, we've all got one per customer so to speak, but he's kinda the prototypical example! True blue pure and honest, forms Hero organizations, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound and lift tanks, few weaknesses...all the Heroes probably idolized him and wanted to be him, growing up." Jeffrey points to himself. "Me? I had other ideas."

"See when these guys were invented, there was nobody like them in the world, but in the future? There're tons of us!" Jeffrey laughs. "People with abilities normal humans don't have, y'know? Mind control. Regeneration. The ability to set crap on fire with your mind!" Jeffrey bent down to look at him and said, "...so what's your interest?"
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<Yes, actually,> Mar said to her, with a smile and a nod. He might as well use public, seeing as she had just stated he could use thought speech for all the world to hear and he had no reason to hide it. <Well, this time I am. It was a bit more variable of an ability on my last trip here. You see, I don't normally have a physical body like yours or those of my friends here. I am a non-corporeal, psychologically viral entity of a kind...likely only described in Andalite fairy stories. Essentially, I can implant the idea of me in another's mind. I exist on the plane of mind and spirit-- of energy--- rather than that of matter.> Mar gestures outside the ship. <This place generates my physical form as soon as I enter, thereby limiting the utilization of my abilities to the Master of the chancel's benefit. The creature I am and some here are or are replicating are called humans, by the way. They're not normally capable of thought-speech.>

[Myitt]

Jorek stares at Keshin, his host's boyish visage the picture of slack-jawed confusion.

He collects himself, clearing his throat. "Don't be ridiculous, I'm not going anywhere near that thing," he says derisively.

The Emperor ignores Keshin's question about the Andalite 'bandits' altogether.

[Terenia]

<Humans,> Ardania echoes, suddenly looking eager. <I have heard of humans. I expected them to be...taller.> She looks from Mar to Al, finally settling on Mar. She appears to completely ignore his explanation of his true being. <Are you truly incapable of avoiding violence for more than a standard hour? And you have no tail to speak of, despite being bipedal?> She inches closer, as though to peer around to see Mar's backside.

[DinosaurNothlit]

Truth Seeker looked at Yeden, the Iskoort having happened to catch the word 'Kandrona' from Yeden's exclamation, even if he didn't seem to notice the hand that had drifted to his holster.  Despite the sheer alien-ness of his features, Truth Seeker's emotions were almost comically easy to read in his bug-eyed face, and his look was one of surprised recognition.  Yes, he knew that word, but he could think of no reason why anyone other than an Iskoort would know it.  Iskoort, or at least the Yoort part of the Iskoort symbiont, required Kandrona for sustenance.  But Truth Seeker had never encountered another species that had any relation to the rare type of radiation.  No other species had ever even heard of it.

He was quickly distracted from those thoughts, however, by Jeffrey's answer to his query.  <I am sorry for the collapse of your society,> the Iskoort said solemnly.  Then he looked thoughtful.  <Yes, many species have fictional characters of the 'hero' archetype.  Beings who protect the weak.  But, you mention powers?  Your species truly has powers?>  He looked fearfully from Jeffrey to the other humans in the Bar.  <You can start fires with your thoughts?>  Truth Seeker had noted Jeffrey's differentiation between those with powers and 'normal humans,' but he hadn't picked up from context that 'human' referred to Jeffrey's species.

<As for my interest, it is mainly because these characters can sometimes emerge through these stories, from realities beyond this one.  Not as physical beings, of course, but as spirits.>  The Iskoort shifted his weight back and forth, seeming almost embarrassed, as the whine in his diaphragm reached an uncomfortably high pitch that wavered like nervous laughter.  He knew that this was the point where most aliens either believed him, if their species had similar beliefs, or decided that he was insane.  <Such spirits can occasionally cause harm to this reality, so they must be exorcised where they appear.  Knowing their true natures can sometimes help to either calm or control them.>

This thought reminded Truth Seeker to glance down at his Cons-fi Reader again.  He did have a job to do here, after all.  He took a couple steps in the general direction of the bookshelf, where most of the spirits seemed to be gathered, but then he stopped, tilting his head quizzically.  He had initially tried to tell himself that it must just be the way the dim lighting was reflecting off of the screen, but at this point he could swear that the entirety of the viewfinder was glowing indigo.  The same color that represented the consciousness fields the device was designed to detect.  The glow, which had appeared as an imperceptible haze when he'd first entered the Bar, was slowly growing brighter.  <That isn't possible,> he muttered to himself.  For some reason Truth Seeker felt like the Bartender was staring at him, but when he looked up, the strange, silent man was simply polishing a dry glass with a stained towel, looking at nothing in particular.

[Aluminator (Kit)]

Al watches, bemused, as the accordion-like alien makes its way across the shipyard. "Ahhh," he says, "it's been a long, long time since I've seen a..." He frowns "Polkadon?" He snaps a finger. "Folk-music-ite!" He sighs and heads back into the ship. "Well, I tried."

As he walks by Salem, he holds up a hand for a high-five, which Salem meets absentmindedly. Al continues calling back to Mar even as he walks and gathers up his bag of medical supplies. "I have nothing but respect for you average working bot," he calls, "but some people like their artificial life-forms a little more... lively. I, personally, was designed to assist in fun, entertainment, friendship, fourth-wall breaks and bad puns. I was built as a party machine and a..." he laughs as he steps out next to Mar again, "social ambassador."

When Mar begins thought-speaking openly, Al turns to him and mutters, "Show-off," though his light tone and the grin on his face make it pretty clear he's joking.

He looks over at Ossanlin. "I'm afraid I can't offer much more in the way of field medicine than you can. Disinfectant and a quick patch. But I'm happy to help if I can."

He walks over to Ardania and sets down the bag a respectful distance away. "With your permission, of course." He keeps his voice and his smile gentle. Ardania seems to be holding herself together well so far, but if she's recently witnessed the deaths of her entire crew, there's no telling what emotional state she might be in, and Al has no intention of pushing things. He bends down and begins rummaging through the medical bag. When Ardania mentions the violence of humans, he chuckles. "Heh heh heh. Yeeeaaaahhhh, humans can be short, violent little buggers."

"I heard that!" calls Salem from inside the Mirage, which only makes Al laugh harder. Salem finally steps out into the doorway, where he can see Ardania. A civilian female out in the field. Wonder of wonders. He looks at her with curiosity. He's dying to know how she's ended up out here. He'll have to ask her if he ever gets the opportunity. For the moment, however, all he does is flash her a half-smile and say, "Not all of us are as violent as you've been led to believe. Though, yes, we are tailless bipeds." He rolls his eyes slightly. That, in particular, seems to be a real sticking point among Andalites, and it's a conversation he must have had a hundred times in the past.

He begins thought-speaking to Ossanlin again. <<Now you're catching on,>> he says, with a slight smirk. <<There's no obvious advantage to moving the Andalite military away from conflict. I don't know what the endgame of this movement is. The direction doesn't make sense. There must be a big piece of the puzzle I'm missing. Maybe more than one. I only know what my network has been able to piece together.>> He'll let that last statement stand as something of an insurance policy. If Ossanlin is Sector Seven, there's no way he'll kill Salem without acquiring more information about his 'network.' Or... so Salem hopes.

He sighs. <<There have been shifts in the news feeds and propaganda on the homeworld. There've been reports of the Andalites... losing battles.>> He closes his eyes and rubs his temples. Damn headaches... <<Only a few sporadic reports, but the seeds of doubt are being planted. Maybe you already know, but there's a quiet rumor growing among the troops that the top officials are planning to pull the fleet back to the homeworld. You know as well as I do that a rumor like that would have been remorselessly quashed a year ago. And from what I've seen, the whispers of that rumor are starting to spread among civilians as well.>> his eyes flick to Ardania, then back to Ossanlin. <<I see evidence that certain portions of Andalite strategy, formations, and intelligence are playing right into Yeerk hands. Palps. Whatever. Maybe you can interpret the data, but I believe I have evidence of at least two cases of good Andalite warriors being left to die before Imperial forces in order to spread doubt on the homeworld. I see subtle movements in the fleet that imply a shift towards defense, even as the they increase the number of scouting parties too small to defend themselves. It's only a subtle shift so far, but it is definitely happening.>>

He pauses and swallows. <<And... I believe my intelligence has uncovered the Andalites responsible for this shift.>> He swallows. <<Or at least some of the major players. But this is too big and too deep for me to handle all on my lonesome.>> He stares at Ossanlin, intending to do that 'stern judgmental look' thing that Al does so well, but Salem gets the feeling he's just coming across as tired.

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

<Mar is right, these creatures are, or resemble, the human species from the M-Class planet they call 'Earth.'>

Ossanlin gestures at Al.  <Like I said, he's actually a robot with a sophisticated holographic projection, but he's generally not...well...unscru pulous like his traveling partner.>  Ossanlin spares a stalk-eye for Salem.

<<I tire of this game Salem.  Whatever you're trying to accomplish with this farce, it's not working.  What do you want of me?  No fiction...just an answer.>>

[Terenia]

Ardania's expression is a mixture of fascination and unease as Al approaches, but she doesn't respond to his words. One stalk eye turns to Mar.

<Could you translate for the human-projection?> she asks him. <I'm afraid I do not speak humanese, and my understanding of Galard is rudimentary at best.>

She notes that she is beginning to feel lightheaded, now that the adrenaline of her arrival is wearing off. <Translate quickly, if you could.> Her thought-speak is calm, expression thoughtful. <I believe I may be entering the early stages of either shock or simply profound exhaustion. Considering I've crash-landed on a strange planetoid, lost my crewmates, and come face-to-face with a war-hero...not to mention my first extra-terrestrial creatures...yes, I do believe I may be entering shock.> She smiles with her eyes.

[DinosaurNothlit]

In the forest about a quarter of a mile to the north of the Bar, a dinosaur appeared.  Simply appeared.  One moment nothing but forest, the next moment, dinosaur.  The dinosaur was generally tyrannosaurid in size and shape, with that boxy carnivorous face, the tiny arms, the thickly built yet bird-like legs.  But its tawny brown body was covered in light-grey-scaled bone nodules, and its tail ended in a bony club.  This was not a species of dinosaur that had ever existed at any point in earth's history.  It was, in fact, created from a mixture of DNA.  Tyrannosaur and ankylosaur blended together.

Danielle, who often went by the nickname 'Dino' these days, looked around, sniffing the air as she took in her surroundings.  This was not at all where she had intended to go when she had activated the- wait, hold on, where was the Time Matrix?  It should have followed her through space, to, well, wherever this was.  She looked around more frantically, not knowing where she was, and scared.  <Kiphos?  Amanda?  Nick?  Tukon?> she called out shakily, searching for her friends, who seconds ago had been touching the Time Matrix with her.  But she couldn't even pick up their scents at all.  Dino swished her clubbed tail anxiously back and forth, taking short panicked breaths as she thought about all the possible implications of the situation she had suddenly found herself in.

Had their casual use of such an ancient and powerful device finally caught up with them?  Had the Ellimist seen fit to take back what was his?  And, if so . . . what had He done with her friends?!

She turned her head, as her keen nostrils caught a distant scent of humans.  Not anyone she knew, but humans nonetheless.  Aliens, too.  There was at least one scent she didn't recognize, but she knew the smell of Andalites, Hork-bajir, and . . . velociraptors?  The velociraptor smell was fairly faint but unmistakable, whereas the human and alien smells were fresher.  And there were other smells intermingled with the living ones.  Rust.  Fuel.  Grease.  Alcohol.

Dino shook her huge head.  <What kind of place is this?>  She looked around again, as though hoping the Time Matrix might still be somewhere nearby.  For just a moment, her vision darkened, and she suddenly felt weak, her heart seeming to jerk violently in her chest.  But within seconds she was fine again, so she shook it off.

She looked again towards the scent of humans and aliens and raptors.  Well, that was as good a direction as any, wasn't it?  And maybe they could tell her where the hell she was.  Yet, she hesitated, wondered whether the people at this place might see her and attack.  Humans did not always react well to dinosaurs in their midst.  But knowing there were Andalites there too, reassured her.  Any humans who would hang around Andalites couldn't be too bad, right?  So Dino lumbered towards the smells of people, her footsteps causing tremors in the earth, as birds . . . or something like birds . . . took flight in her wake.

[Gaz]

In through the door of the bar walked a 6 and a half foot tall man. What stood out about him was that he was like a minotaur, but had horse features instead of those of a bull. His dark mane was cut short, and his tail (if he ever really had one) was absent. He was a chestnut color, and wore knee length pants and a dark red sleeveless shirt. The actual minotaur was behind him. Standing near 7 feet tall, the minotaur was a slightly darker shade of brown. He wore a dark green sleeveless shirt which wore like a vest (the horns made traditional shirts a problem), and dark brown pants. Both were in excellent shape, mostly due to their professions.

"Ladies and....ladies!" announced the horse headed man. "Be still your beating hearts, for the most eligible bachelor in all the realm has returned!"

"Julian, you ass," commented the minotaur, who looked chagrined. "If you get decked by someone I'm not going to stop them."

"This is Morgan," Julian said as he indicated his companion, "and he's available too. What a charmer."

Morgan sighed. "Never mind. I'm going to punch you myself."

(Odysseus Morgan and Julian have returned!!!)

[Shenmue654]

Mar startles at this. He has basically never been asked to give an honest depiction of someone else's speech in his life. <Ahahah...well, well of course, milady. I don't think the cultural explanation will be...perfectly equivalent, but I will try. He's just explained that he's an android, and he is, I suppose, a fool. A jester. A comic that draws attention to the absurd. He described himself as a 'social ambassador, but he's really more of a...> Mar makes an exasperated gesture with his hands. <...party trick. Still...>

<He says that he has medical knowledge and that he could help you if you're ill. Not more than Ossanlin can do, but a quick patch-up is within his capability. He also says, I quote, 'Yeah, humans are short, violent little buggers.'> Mar shakes his head. <But don't believe him, he's an idiot. Yes, they don't have tails, and they are more violent than other species, but they do have to possess a justification for violent acts.>

Mar gave her a look of concern and again, that curious warmth. <But...if you're experiencing shock and fear, you should talk to the War-Prince and he may be able to sort things out. Whatever you've been through must have been utterly terrible. Take all the time you need.>
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Keshin watches carefully as Jeffrey goes over to talk to the impossibly weird accordion hellscape creature, and just shakes his head. All of the responses he had had to either Counselor had been shot clear out of his head by that thing's appearance. "I suppose we'll just...get back to our..."

And that was when what was clearly a minotaur and an upper-bodied centaur walked in, and all sense of sanity this place had had fell clean out the window. The minotaur, for some horrifying reason, looked distinctly familiar--- Keshin had actually seen that particular coloration somewhere before. Keshin held up a finger and then crossed the room towards the minotaur.

"Do...do I know...you...?" he says hesitantly, fully aware of how ridiculous that sentence would be in most contexts before it leaves his mouth.
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Jeffrey can't help a bit of a brief, cough-like laugh at what the creepy little alien was describing. Granted, he'd seen a revolving door of bizarre aliens since entering this place. "What, so....you're saying that like, ****ing Daredevil could just walk through the door and decide he wants to light everything on fire, in your belief system? That's...wow, that's special." Jeffrey chuckles with appreciation. "That is absolutely bonkers, little man."

"Still..." Jeffrey says, walking with him a bit, "I mean I come from a place where there are guys with real flipping superpowers, so maybe it's not as cracked as it seems. And nah, it's not everybody. In fact it's only like twelve or twenty percent of the whole population. I don't know the exact number. It's genetic, but nobody gets why, or how it happened. And the ones who have powers--- have all got different powers." Jeffrey's eyes glow vividly yellow, and he smiles at Truth Seeker, and suddenly Truth Seeker feels as if he has shifted very far back in time, because the voice he hears is one he trusts implicitly."This is mine. I can make people believe whatever I tell them."

"Whatcha' lookin' at there?" he says. "The Bartender? That dude creeps me out, man."

[Gaz]

"It's possible," Morgan replied. "I was here ages ago with a few others. Gaz, Dr. Asda, Fletcher."

"I was here to," Julian added.

"You came later. Shut up." Morgan commented. "Anyway. You look a bit familiar too, come to think of it."

[Aluminator (Kit)]

Salem's shoulders droop slightly-- though only slightly-- as he descends the ship's ramp and approaches the group gathering around Ardania. He continues his private conversation with Ossanlin, <<What I need from you, War-Prince, is something there's no way you'll be willing to give me if you think I'm only in this for profit, and no way you won't if you feel the insanity... the gravity of this situation.>> He sighs and looks Ossanlin in the eyes. <<I need information on Mark Three Dome Ships. Pretty basic information. Nothing... too compromising. I don't think. Physical layout and computer system framework information.>> He sighs again. <<I have no intention of putting any Andalite lives at risk, but I think a lot of the information I need is stored aboard the... aboard one of the fleet's Mark Threes. If this is what I think it is, I could potentially save a lot of good Andalite lives.>>

He shakes his head. He's being far from convincing, and between his exhaustion and his consistently-worsening headache, he doesn't really feel he's thinking strait anymore. <<I can send you some of the evidence I've found if you want to see this plot for yourself,>> he says lamely.

Al, in the meantime, digs a few more things from the bag as soon as Ardania mentions that she may be going into shock. "I am not," he says haughtily to Mar, "an entertainer." He laughs and looks to Ossanlin, "So we really letting this clown be my spokesman?" he asks, tilting his head to indicate Mar. "He's putting even more words in my mouth than I usually do."

He stands, a number of medical supplies in hand, and winks at Mar. "Kidding, of course. You're doing a... good job. Now translate for me until we get the lady patched up, in case she doesn't understand some of my mouth-words. Oy, Salem!" he calls suddenly, "see if you can figure out where those enormous pounding footfalls are coming from!"

Salem looks at Al, surprised. "Those are footfalls?" He glances around nervously and frowns when he catches sight of the... birds...? taking flight from the woods not far off.

Al continues working. He turns towards Ardania and switches to flawless Galard. "Please lie down. Be calm. Breathe slowly." He moves closer, a small aerosol-looking device grasped in his right hand. "I will treat your wound. This may hurt for a short time. It is safe."