Salem smirked at Ewa and patted the pocket he'd put his persona scanner back into, "just taking some images for later. Y'know, for posterity. I... don't think I caught your name. I'm Salem," he said, sticking his hand out for her to shake.
He laughed as he listened to Zorish's skepticism. He was beginning to forget that this place was far from normal, even by his standards.
He shook his head, "Yeah, it's not exactly something you hear every day. This place is pretty unique in that way. It does seem that everyone here has some sort of connection to the Yeerk-Andalite war," he said, with a pointed look at Ogreon, then Ewa and Van, "but some of us are originally from places with no Yeerks." He smiled, "You don't have to believe it, but if you keep it in mind, it might help you out here."
"As for the... other you having died, I hadn't heard anything about that until you asked, actually. It's not surprising, in this place. Mortality rates tend to be... pretty high in this bar. If you're going to insist on being open about your imperial allegiance, at least make it a point to be careful." He sighed and pulled out his communicator, "Let me see if I can find Corliss for you."
"Hey, Al," he said into the communicator, "did you see which way Corliss went?"
Outside the bar, Al had begun to move back towards Salem's ship, slowly, enjoying the walk. He spoke, though there was no apparent communicator, "You're not thinking about talking to him again already, are you?"
"Of course not," Salem said, smirking. "I've got a friend here who's looking to use his communicator."
"Oh!" Al replied excitedly, immediately catching the implication. "Okay, cool. Um..." he looked around, "looks like he's actually headed for the bar. You should see him any second."
"Thanks," Salem said, and put his communicator away, and looked at Zorish with a shrug and a smile, to make sure he'd overheard.