Galaxy's Edge Space Bar

[Terenia]

"A drink sounds reasonable," Zorish says, stepping towards the bar. He approaches the bartender, who has not changed expression since Zorish first entered the establishment. "Scotch and water," he orders. When the bartender flashes his 'Cash or Tab' note, Zorish jerks a thumb at Salem to indicate that it is on his tab. Turning around, Zorish leans back against the bar and folds his arms while he waits, watching Salem curiously.

"Well, that is part of the reason I am here," he says in response to Salem's question. "Prior to this communication I had never heard of Myitt or Terenia. I did some poking around before leaving the Blade Ship, of course. Myitt, it seems, is a fugitive with a fairly large gashad on his head. I would say that murder is typical of rebel outlaws, but someone with that large of a bounty is not likely to go about drawing attention to himself by murdering Sub-Vissers. As for Terenia, there were no records of her at all. So you can see why I would be...perplexed."

The bartender returns with his drink and he takes the tumbler, swirling it so that the ice clinks against the glass gently. He takes a small sip.

<Ugh, I don't know how you can stand that stuff,> Tamora complains. Zorish just smirks and takes another sip before resuming his conversation with Salem.

"And of you? Based on your earlier confusion I would guess that you are not one of my people. But you are clearly human. Tell me, how is this possible? Humanity is scarcely aware of lifeforms beyond their planet, and certainly not able to travel this far."


<<I would never seek to undermine you, or to soil your name, War-Prince,>> Efaen says, looking abashed. <<My intentions are merely to provide the most beneficial assistance possible. I understand that Terenia is a threat, so long as she is hostless and intent on retaining some semblance of her former humanity. It is a risk that I am willing to subject myself to, but if you do not think that I will be of use within the rebellion, then I will remain with you.>> Her shoulders slump; she is clearly unhappy with his decision, but she can think of no further arguments, and she has already spoken out more than any warrior would typically dare to against their Prince.

<I will await further orders, my Prince,> she says stiffly in open thought-speak, not meeting his or Claxter's gaze.

[KitsuneMarie]

Elayne shakes her head, Salem's smooth talking sending off red flags as usual. Coupled with her protectiveness over her friend, and Mar's "precious," Elayne's uneasiness compels her to leave Mar's side to follow the Imperial soldier and the trader. "Zorish Three-Five-Eight," she says, approaching from the side. "Apologies for interrupting, but let me assure you that Myitt is difficult to reach. She has left this planetoid, and her timeline is so disparate from yours that there's no reliable way for you to contact her. I wouldn't be surprised if Salem," she says, giving him a bland look, "has his own reasons for plying you with drinks and questions."

After a moment, she offers her right hand. "I'm Elayne Jogan, by the way."


Illim hitches his shoulder uncomfortably. As little as he cares to return to the Bar, and as ready as he is to be on his way to the rebellion where hopefully Corliss and Myitt will successfully plead his case for entry into their ranks--although he's worried about Myitt, especially considering how surly she sounded the last time they had spoken--he cares even less to stand within tail-striking-distance of three disgruntled Andalites.

"Gents, lady," he says to the four-legged aliens with a bob of his head and what he hopes is a disarming smile, and follows Corliss.

[Terenia]

An amused smile plays over Tamora's lips as Zorish extends his hand to shake Elayne's. "Another human? This place seems to be crawling with them," he comments casually. "Forgive me, Elayne, but I am a persistent Yeerk. I did not travel all this way to merely turn around and go home because someone is difficult to reach. Nor did I become a Sub-Visser by being foolish. I will take what assistance I can gather from this -" he wrinkles his nose, "-establishment, so long as it will not harm me in the process."

He glances around at the patrons, adding quickly, "If it is Myitt's well-being that you are concerned for, be assured that I have no immediate intentions of harming him, or anyone else here. He may have a bounty on his head, but I would venture to guess most of the people here do. Only a fool would try to collect a gashad in a room full of fugitives. I suspect that in being a law-abiding citizen of the Yeerk Empire, I am in the minority here." He smirks, "That would put me at your mercy, would it not?"

[Chad32]

Derrel didn't say anything as Illim walked in. He knew Derrel was hungry, and pestering wouldn't help. He wanted to leave, personally, and didn't care if some look-a-like had come by. However, any distance away from the Andalites was good distance.

Claxter stared at the door after Illim left. He kind of wanted to confront this new Tamora or Terenia, but he didn't want to enter while they were there. A stalk eye found Theta, and he wondered if now was a good time to talk about him. Maybe not. There was an awkward silence as he waited alongside his comrads.

[Aluminator (Kit)]

Salem ordered the drink Zorish was having. He was always willing to broaden his horizons. So... Zorish didn't know Myitt. Here was an imperial looking to contact a rebel. That didn't seem like it'd work out well.

He smirked at Elayne as she came over. "What, I'm not allowed to make others feel welcome here? Besides," he said, smiling at Zorish, "even if I did have other reasons to help, it wouldn't change the fact that I am trying to help."

"We both claim to be human," Salem began, casting a look at Elayne, "but Yeerks are more prominent here. You're right, though, being imperial puts you in the minority. And Myitt's friends are very much opposed to anything imperial. Which is kind of why it might be tricky for you to get in touch with him, especially if you're wearing," he waved a hand at Zorish's uniform, "that thing."

The bartender set down his drink, and he took a sip, then ****ed his head as he looked at the glass. Definitely alcohol, but the flavor wasn't bad...

[Shenmue654]

Mar snickers suddenly at Van's comment. He knows exactly what the repulsive man said. Odd: he only knew the languages in the Bar that he had carried with him when he came into this body. And he had never been to the place Van appeared to be from.

"You think your family are a bunch of airheaded fools?" mutters Mar, an amused look on his face. "I don't know them, but that might be fitting. And honestly, I have no idea what the Hegemony is either. My memory is not what it should be." Not that he was going to tell this...character that his memory consisted mostly of fragmented, useless information.

"Regardless, do not cause any problems for me or my Elay---" Mar glances around the table, noting that Elayne is no longer sitting next to him. "...Elayne?"

Mar frowns and attempts to stand up, using the table as support. His gauntlet hand is held over his aching chest. Mar glances about the Bar, trying to spot his...was she his lover? Did it matter? Complicated.

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Ossanlin sighs again.  <<You would have been useful within the rebellion, but it's too late for that now.  If you are dead-set on joining them then you must either come to peace with being a deserter or convince Reven to accept my terms.  If you are still a member of the military merely stationed with the rebels making regular reports...that might be acceptable as long as I still had ultimate authority over you and your actions...as well as the authority to withdraw you from their ranks without prior notice if necessary.>>  He finally manages to make himself stand completely erect.

<<Claxter, she will not be happy without Yeerk blood on her blade...that is not a terribly likely scenario, and she certainly won't be happy if she's safe.>>  Ossanlin's final thought includes Claxter alone.

[KitsuneMarie]

Elayne's mouth twists unpleasantly in response to Zorish and Salem, and she shrugs lightly. "Fine, but I still think you're wasting your time," she tells the Imperial, turning to walk away. Best not to correct Salem if he still think I'm some sort of human lookalike, she thinks with an amused eyeroll.

As she heads back towards Mar, she notices he appears to be looking around the room that is growing more crowded by the moment. For me? she wonders with a small burst of happiness. She returns to his side with a smile.

[Chad32]

<<I feel kind of sorry for you, Prince.>> Claxter said jokingly. <<You get two recent Warriors, and they both have problems. Though luckily not as much as that one.>> He turned a stalk eye to Theta to indicate him. <<Not sure what I'm going to do with him, but I'm trying to help him.>>

[Terenia]

"If you think that I'm going to change what I'm wearing just to impress some outlaws you are certainly mistaken," Zorish says levelly. "I am an honest Yeerk, and I will not lower myself to appearing as anything less than what I am." He smiles thinly. "I am certain that Myitt's friends would be even less pleased if they took me to be a commoner and then discovered they were dealing with a Sub-Visser only after dealing with me."

He watches Elayne depart, amusement playing over Tamora's features. She is protective, he observes, making note to be a careful eye on the woman.

"Now," Zorish says, turning back to Salem. "How would I get in contact with this Myitt person?"


Efaen has the courtesy to keep her position one of submission, but her expression betrays her hope. <<I understand, my Prince. Thank you. I will...I will speak with the rebels and see if such an arrangement can be made. If not, I will plan on returning with you to the Tyrennian.>>

She hesitates, before adding, <<Prince Ossanlin, as you already noted, Terenia's presence provides a calculated risk, one I would gladly accept. However, is there no way that we can ensure she will not reinfest me? I do not know if there are any technologies to ensure safety against infestation, but if there are...>> she hesitates, not wanting to show weakness in front of her commanding officer, but also clearly detesting the very notion of Terenia recapturing her. <<If there is a way to further ensure my safety I would gladly take any steps necessary.>>

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Ossanlin sighs for what seems like the thousandth time.  <<It...may be possible for me to return Terenia to her original human body...in physical reality.  Not for some time though...I believe I am too weak to even attempt it now.  But if the time does come, having an exact DNA replica of that body will be extremely useful.  She would no longer be able to infest anyone after that transformation.>>

Ossanlin addresses Claxter personally again.  <<You need not feel sympathy Warrior, a Prince is responsible for his soldiers no matter their condition.  As for the mechanized...creatu re, he seems to be a cybernetic lifeform...beyond our own abilities.  I do not know what to think of him.>>

[General Squall Leonhart]

He stepped out of his ship, looked around, and took a deep breath. He had heard of this place in his previous travels, but never thought he would have need to go there. However circumstances had changed and the Galaxy Edge Space Bar was his only option. He walked in and mentally noted the different beings present and proceeded to the bar. He took a booth as far back as possible where his back was positioned against the wall and he had a view of the entire place. His physique resembled human however his clothing prevented further comparison.

He wore black boots that were made of an unknown material that resembled soft leather, one of which he positioned to point at the door. He wore a long trench coat that was a dark green in color and was made of a heavier material than his boots and was currently unfastened and slightly open. His shirt and pants seemed to be made of the same material as his boots and the same dark green color as his coat. His face was hidden behind a mask made of that same soft leather-like material and was black in color. His eyes were covered by a black visor of some sort though was as mysterious as the person himself. His hair was the color of blood and ran to the middle of his back, bound in a ponytail with what looked like a chain.

He looked to his left at the bartender and said in Gallard “Do you know how to mix a Relnian Blizzard?” The bartender glared at him for a second, then proceeded to enter the freezer. He thought he heard some strange noises, but decided not to question. The bartender came back out with a jug. He then reached under the bar and brought out another jug. He then mixed the strange and potent drink and handed it to him. The glass was filled with a thick liquid as blue as glacial ice and topped with a foam as red as a sun. He picked up his drink, leaned back against the wall and took one last survey of the place. Perhaps this place has more opportunities than it seems he thought to himself as he began to drink.

[Chad32]

<<He used to be a normal Andalite before being captured by machines known as the Alvie. Now that he's free of Alvie's control, he's having trouble with his newfound individuality.>> Claxter said. <<He has a very strong fear of isolation, and the ability to assimilate others to make them more like himself using nanoprobes.>>

[RAFrukh]

Noting that the Efaen unit was stabilizing, We approached Claxter and Ossanlin, <To be precise, the nanoprobes do not make creatres more like Us. They create cybernetic enhancements to make a cyborg.>

[pyrebird]

Van breathed a sigh of relief and sat down. There was definitely something wrong with Mar, and once he spoke, it was apparent. Though he knew Van's language, the possible Oligarch was also decidedly confused, and sounded... drunk. His voice was at a higher pitch, and his accent fell in all the wrong places. To Van, Mar's new "accent" was plenty comparable to his own native style. Just hearing the man talk made Van want to shake him, and yell, "Snap out of it!", but he resisted the urge.

Van was too used to the way the Oligarch he knew spoke. Over there, Mar's voice was low, and measured, with a deep vibrato that emphasized certain tones. To native Beryllians, he sounded stereotypically "evil", a side-effect of which planet he came from. Van had long suspected that Mar was one of his own kind, from some other conquered planet elsewhere in the galaxy.

He simply hadn't kept tabs on who's who or which planet was a Beryllian colony or not, mostly because to Van, that information was irrelevant. In the little pocket of stars the government claimed as their own, Beryllia had no power, and their conquest had failed. Van was never really impressed with his own race, which was ironic, because everything about him screamed "Beryllian". His ship, style of dress, behavior, and even his tendency to speak his native tongue gave away his racial origins. He couldn't quite escape the world he tried so hard to reject, and honestly, only to another Beryllian would he appear bitter about his home world.

That aside, there was something wrong with Mar, and Van positively loathed the idea of figuring it out. It would force him to bring all those sour sentiments back to the surface, and relearn his culture, which not something he was keen on doing.

Mar mentioned the Hegemony briefly, but then said he didn't know what it was. He also sounds positively drunk, and I swear, that Elayne chick reminds me too much of someone I already know! Argh, why can't life be simple? Why is my life never simple?!

... Emal ishvisaa! If I wanted a simple life, I wouldn't have tried so hard to complicate it, nen!

Van shook his head, and grinned. There was no point in bothering Mar anymore: he had his fill of seeing the man wounded, and honestly, all Mar's presence did was make Van feel even more confused.

"Mmm, Marzhen! I gotta run, now. Go have happy fun-time with your chick, I've got... girls to meet."

Van turned, a nervous smile still on his face, and looked for Ewa. Anh, there she is! At the Bar, eh? She appeared to be somewhat engaged with a conversation with others. Van figured it would be best to approach the Bar anyways, and maybe get a drink. A shaken Dalcasian Spice, like he had last time, perhaps?

...Or maybe something stronger?