Galaxy's Edge Space Bar

[Shenmue654]

Mar floats lightly into Salem's shift, his eyes glowing red as he attempts to aura-search the place. If something in Salem's ship was touched by another Dark side Highest, there's no way Mar could miss it. Such objects have odd effects on the mortal and benefit some immortals. The problem, Mar discerns, is that there's too much stuff on Salem's ship. In his limited state it's actually confusing him. Mar holds his head irritably.

"Lead me to the place where you keep your wares," mutters Mar. "I can't seem to tell from here. Much to my...chagrin. Exactly what on Earth do you carry around with you on a daily basis?"

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Rathien chuckles, looking down at the plate of nachos.  "Ah, zhon.  I should've known from that outfit, and if not that then from your behavior."  He looks up at Van, making eye-contact this time, his grin still showing fangs.  "You can call me whatever you want in your native language, pirate...it makes little difference to me.  i would simply advise you not to be quite so...self-assured, chaa."  He ****s his head sideways, using this time to look the Beryllian over again, eyes resting at certain points on his body quite obviously before returning to gaze at Ewa again.

[Chad32]

The Sub-Visser seemed annoyed that he was there, even though they might be the only two Imperials on the rock. He wasn't phased, though. "That's too bad, Sub-Visser. Hopefully we'll both find what we seek here. This is either a crazyhouse, or I've stumbled on something very strange." He didn't move out of earshot, and continued drinking while waiting for the Andalite to speak. He seemed like a high ranking individual, and may even be the guy in charge around here if it wasn't the stone faced bartender.

[pyrebird]

Van took another glance at the silver-haired man, in an expression that quickly went from slight shock, to a simmering resentment. The pronunciation was off, not quite standard Beryllian, but it was a sort that bothered the pirate. Despite that, suddenly, the hunter's pursuit of Ewa was not entirely unjustified.

Women were rare where he was from, you could chalk it up to the uneven ratio of males to females born naturally. Beryllians have had a long history of intense confrontations between men in pursuit of a woman, and sexual deviation towards male partners was thus not entirely uncommon, just a last resort. Van's rather playful pursuit of women, and sometimes men, was frowned upon by mainstream Beryllians, but once outside their culture, his behavior could hardly be blamed.

Ewa seemed like, in all respects, another member of his race. She could alter her appearance so quickly, so easily, and preferred eclectic blends of color in her hair. It was like she was one of his own kind, from some distinct future where they had no strife, no problems, could alter anything they wished.

But she didn't have the distinct aural "scent" of a female Beryllian, which was the only thing that gave her away as not being one. It was sad, but not entirely unsurprising.

Rathien, meanwhile, was another matter altogether. His hair was detectably silver-white at a first glance, but upon closer inspection, it was pale blue, and then seemed to trail down to gray, then white. Van blinked, figuring it was a trick of the eyes. Rathien's eyes were blue, but glimmered oddly. Not "human lineage blue" like Van's eyes. And those fangs of his! Van found them creepy to look at.

Worst of all, his language sounded familiar, yet foreign. Almost like a dialect of some kind, from somewhere far away. With the appearance of a Mar-not-Mar, and now this guy, Van felt strongly at unease.

I get it. They're here, too. Hunting me. I don't know where this guy's from, but visht! Why would it matter?! What do They want with me?!

Van furrowed his brow, and concluded that Rathien wasn't just here to flirt. He had an agenda, perhaps multiple agendas. And the man's statement bothered him...

"Nichaa, I suppose I was on the bit... just a bit... Jumped the gun," he finally answered. Van closed his eyes, and measured his circumstances. Not good. How was he supposed to respond, now?!

He paused, and his accent switched, "Nan gi... Gabo... Reves ars Alvo Regares-de nani sichaaa, senme Shinze-nen nange. Nande vangulnen sichaaa?" (This moment... um... This moment, the Lords of Regares (Hegemony) have sent a Messenger, I believe. This is why you are here now?)

Van looked down, calmly. This was a situation he would have to comply with. The Oligarchy was one thing, the Hegemony, another.

The sudden change to his accent was a bizarre, but not subtle shift. His voice rippled like a river, and the nasal quality disappeared. At first he sounded rusty, but then it flowed. Flowed like music. The ends of his sentences trailed off, vowels rising like a melody. This sound was something he grew up with, a sound he heard all the time. It was the commonly accepted way of speaking among his people.

"When vese, vangul-ni zhon sichii: Nande Alvregne-rhen, haaaa?" (Please, correct this idiot person: are you, or are you not a Lord of the Hegemony, yes?)

Van paused. This was embarrassing. Highly embarrassing. He didn't know any of them by name, and he could be one of them. One of those blasted Lords, if he was one, would be the worst thing to show up so suddenly. Van hated the idea of having to kowtow to anyone, but the sheer power of these individuals... It was higher than anything he knew. Something he knew he couldn't fight.

And, it was this weakness that bothered the Pirate most of all.

[AmberKatira]

"Mirwind then," Ewa settled on a name.  "Wind Wolf is rather poetic, and it does suit you, but I'm afraid it might sound like a bit of a pet name.  And I'm sure you'd never be anyone's pet.  How is it though," she tilts her head curiously, "that you have a current True Name?  Does it change?"

She sacrificed some of the poise she had been maintaining through the banter to continue to fill herself full of nachos.  Now that she was getting past her initial pains of hunger she noticed that the nachos tasted a little strange.  First the tomatoes and now the nachos.  Whoever's supplying food for this scape must also be undertrained.

Ewa felt a flicker of annoyance when Van claimed her arm and wrapped it about his shoulders. I give you an inch, she thought to herself.  And Mirwind was still focusing on her and this sharing... even now that she wasn't feeling her drink so much, he was hard to look away from.  Especially when he very much looked like he was imagining he had something other than a nacho in his mouth.  I try to diffuse the situation and you two just don't know how to stop.  Al, Jasper, and Ogreon had been silent for a long time.  Whether out of boredom or intimidation, she couldn't tell.  After a few moments, she pulled her arm back, though she pinched Van's earlobe in parting--part reproof and part affection.

An exchange later, Van suddenly switched languages.  Ewa had no idea what he was saying, but though the language itself was beautiful, Van himself seemed acutely uncomfortable and worried.  And focused on Mirwind.  Maybe these two have some shared history after all....

[Aluminator (Kit)]

Salem laughed, "This ship has everything. I don't have a home besides this. The stuff I carry with me is everything I own. If one of my bits of junk has what you're looking for, it's here." He gently caressed the wall, causing drawers and compartments to open all around the ship, each one stuffed with a random collection of alien objects. Some of the compartments were even reasonably well organized. The entire front wall slid open to reveal a rack of what were weapons from dozens of civilizations. A large compartment near the rear of the ship held the large cylinder he'd shown Jasper and Sapptus- the ZFD Alchemist Device. Salem looked around the ship with pride- it'd been a while since he'd taken the time to view his whole collection. It could probably use some organizing at some point... but for now, all the possessions from all the places he'd been... it had been a long, long road so far.

He turned to Mar and grinned, "Search away, highest. If you want, I could just give you the history of the immortals from my universe as well. I should have some of it available on the computer."


Al gave Rathien his best bemused smirk in response to his assertion that 'something' wouldn't need to make something up. "What are you on about, sir?" Luckily, Rathien got drawn more into his conversation with Van over Ewa. Al sighed and sat back to listen. There were so many things he could have said, would loved to have said, but he couldn't, not with Rathien apparently still clueless to his identity. Al really did not like this hunter. He was severely cramping his style. For now, he just continued to watch the conversation, bored.

[KitsuneMarie]

Serid gives Ossanlin a respectful nod and settles in a chair on the near side of the next table over, giving the two space while being ready to assist if needed. He ignores Zorish's invitation to have a drink, choosing instead to observe their conversation from half a dozen feet away.

When the Imperial who identifies himself as Jocun approaches Ossanlin and Zorish, Serid fingers the edge of his weapon to ensure it is readily accessible.


Illim heaves a sigh and grips the armrest, shoving himself out of the chair. "Alright, what's stumping you?" he asks, leaning over Mike's shoulder, peering at the holoscreen.

[General Squall Leonhart]

Lucan decided to go to his ship and feed Ace. His ship was a very unique craft and had significance on his home planet. It had the shape of a giant bird with its wings swept forward. The predatory bird on Fringe, the Koltan had been Lucans’ inspiration for his ship. The wide forward-swept wings were a deep, dark green in color. Its body was a deep dark blood red in color. The head was bright gold in color and housed the c.ockpit.

It was powered by three Ludak T-9000 engines and had the ability to make .7 in hyperspace. He had installed two Nukul scram jets under the tip of each wing allowing him to flip the ship 180 degrees to face backwards along his flight path, but maintain his forward momentum. This had saved him several times in his smuggling past.

His weapons systems included two double laser cannons at the end of each wing. He also had two cruise torpedo launchers on the end of each wing. In the rear of the ship he had installed a double laser cannon and two concealed cruise torpedo launchers.

The ship stood on its engines and made it seem as if the bird was balancing on it's tail. A staircase extended down and Lucan climbed it. When he entered the ship he rotated 90 degrees to walk on the floor. He had long ago gotten used to the gravity shift the grav generator caused.

While he was walking to his quarters the intercom activated. A message from his sister on his home planet began transmitting. 'Pnudran oui sicd lusa rusa essateydamo. Vydran ec jano emm yht ra fecrac du cbayg fedr oui.' Lucan ran to the c.ockpit and began takeoff procedures. The ship blasted off for space quickly and was in hyperspace in mere moments.

*****************************************************************************************************

The air near the forest began to shimmer as if heated. A soft blue light appeared and began to expand. A human male practically fell through the portal. He considered just lying there and let death take him, but his resolve would not allow him to survive the h.ellish battle he just went through to die like this. His face, his chest, his arms, his legs were covered in deep slashes. He was losing blood quickly and he needed a healer soon or he would die.

He looked up and saw a building no more than thirty feet away. With the last of his strength he forced himself to get to the building without falling. He opened the door and stepped into the building. The blood stains on his leather vest and pants reflected dimly in what light there was. His wounds bleeding freely were impossible to miss.

When he spoke his voice was raspy and barely audible. It was clear he was near death. "I...I need...a...a...a hea...healer." At this point he lost consciousness and fell to the ground with a crash.

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

~Ossanlin~

Ossanlin glances at the other Imperial quickly...this must be the one Efaen had mentioned.  From a different time and a different reality apparently...from a different reality than his own he hopes.  He returns his main eyes to Tamora.  <And why should you seek information regarding a reality that has nothing to do with your own, hmm?>

He smiles.  <Oh well I was flying in a ship and landed here.>



___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ___________________ ____________

~Rathien~

Rathien chuckles and closes his eyes as he listens to Van speak.  He hadn't heard the language spoken so fluently for some time.  For a moment he's tempted to feign being one of the true Hegemon, but he immediately files it away as a bad idea.  Trying to speak Beryllian would most-likely immediately betray his weakness for the language.  He could sound it out, but he would undoubtedly make glaring grammatical errors if nothing else.  He hadn't had to speak the language for a good ten years.  Perhaps the truth would be even more effective than that though...besides, the truth was stranger than fiction really.

"No one has sent a messenger...chaa...in fact I didn't even know you were Beryillian until just now.  It seems my powers of observation were a bit...distracted."  He glances at Ewa before looking back at Van.  "And your hair is not...correct, no offense meant."

"As for being a Hegemon...gabo...I suppose I am, technically."  Rathien grins, showing his fangs again.  "I wasn't born Beryllian mind you, but I'm partially Beryllian now...in a way."  He ****s his head sideways.  "The people of Beryllia-Rylus were kind enough to modify certain...genes...o f mine to pull off a contract.  Mainly those concerning my hair."  Rathien reaches a hand back to sift through his pony-tail.  "The color-change was subtle given that the manipulation was done after the fact, but it was enough to fool other Beryllians into thinking I'd been born from a distant hybrid."  Rathien found himself falling back into the mannerisms he'd learned and adopted for that contract.  Nearly a year he'd lived as a Beryllian citizen.  He was telling the story for one reason, it had been one of the most significant moments of his career and he felt the details deserved to be shared, especially to an interested party.

"See, the people of the Rylus colony didn't much care for their "overseer".  Such is the case with most overbearing, cruel dictators.  A resistance group pooled resources to hire a contract on his head.  Of course he was a difficult target and no self-respecting bounty-collector was willing to work for as little as the group offered.  However, one of their potential employees directed them to me.  You see, I Hunt for different reasons.  I agreed to kill the man."  Rathien relives the moments in his head as he tells them to Van.

"Now the people didn't know he was a Hegemon and neither did I, until I did some digging on him and too many things didn't quite...gabo...add up.  Needless to say I eventually found out he was a member of the Hegemony...my job was much tougher than originally thought...I relished it.  I befriended the man...it wasn't easy let me tell you.  He was more paranoid than a Hunter seeking the "Dream-ender".  But with my contacts in the resistance group as well as a few "friends" I made, I was able to work my way into his establishment."

"Viran was charismatic, young, energetic....attrac tive.  He was also cruel, manipulative, and expoloitive as far as his people were concerned.  We became...lovers.  And I do believe he enjoyed my company as more than just a last resort.  That's not saying he necessarily preferred males, though he might've...I just seem to have that effect on people.  I'm very...skilled...in many things."  Rathien's grin goes from nostalgic to suggestive.  "I became his confidant.  In fact, we were good friends as well.  Of course the time came for me to fulfill the contract and so I did."

"You see...I killed a member of the HegemonyRathien's wide, fang-bearing grin returns.  "I collected my bounty and left the planet, thinking little more of it.  No more than three days after Viran's death, I was contacted by a messenger of the Hegemony.  Apparently when you're used to being invincible, seeing one of your comrades killed shakes you up just a bit.  I believe they may have been worried about my coming after the rest of them.  It was, chaa a politicians answer, instead of devoting their resources to hunting me down, they offered me Viran's place on the Hegemony."  Rathien ****s an eyebrow at Van.  "I accepted the offer.  Technically I could take control of Rylus, amongst several other star-systems, any time I wanted.  I could demand power, and I'd receive it.  So yes, indeed I am a Hegemon, I'm simply choosing not to exercise all of my resources at present."  Rathien smirks at Van before turning to look at Ewa again.

"Yes actually, my species' True Name can change at any given moment.  Certain portions of it are unalterable, but others change depending upon where I am, or whether or not my family falls out of favor in the clan."  Rathien again smiles warmly.  "I haven't been in contact with my clan for some time now, so I suppose I could be giving you the wrong name as it were.  And a lovely female such as yourself may call me Rathien, I don't mind."  Rathien's warm smile takes on an edge of suggestiveness again as he 'accidentally' reaches for the same nacho as Ewa and touches her hand.  "Oh...forgive me."  He moves the hand to a nacho closer to his side of the plate.

[warren_bearclaw]

"You see, I Hunt for different reasons.  I agreed to kill the man."

<<Whoa, whoa, what?!>> Jasper said. He'd been rather dedicated to working on his little walnut-wood elephant for the past several minutes, paying hardly any attention to the table around him. But that line had certainly set off a couple bells. He did a double-take of sorts, quickly looking up at the man who'd appeared at the table -the man who'd been causing a bit of a seen with Salem, - before forcing his eyes back to his carving work. Not that he was carving anymore. He was listening in to the murder story.

This man, whoever - whatever - he was, had befriended a leader-figure of some sort, to quite an uh... dedicated extent, then killed him, and was now sitting bragging softly of the power he had gained from the deal. The look he gave Ms. Ewa sitting next to him unnerved him. This man was a killer, apparently a rather 'friendly' one, who was now looking at the lady to his right. What dastardly scheme did he have planned now?

They both just sat there, stunned, unsure of how to respond. Was it safe to get up and excuse themselves?

[AmberKatira]

An assassin, Ewa thought as she listened to Mirwind's story.  A reckless assassin who's good enough to still be alive... and very possibly kills most of his lovers.  She let herself shudder slightly.  In the end though, she wasn't sure how much she believed him... clearly this Hegemony scared Van like almost nothing else, which said a good deal for their power given the pirate's general mocking disdain of pretty much any other governing body he'd mentioned.  People with that much power would investigate Mirwind though.  They'd have known that he took the job more for the thrill than the money.  So they should have known offering him power would not protect them if he decided to go after them.

But where was the lie?  Are you trying to make us think you're more reckless than you really are, or are you hiding from the Hegemony yourself? she wondered.

Distracted by her thoughts, she didn't even notice herself continuing to reach for the nacho plate until Mirwind's hand brushed over her own.  She kept herself from immediately looking in his eyes and betraying the effect she felt only with great effort.  Ewa had used that sort of technique before herself and it was as much about gaining the upper hand as increasing intimacy.  I'm going to need more fire myself, to continue to match him in this.  I can't start fearing him.

"Rathien," she accepted the more intimate name and caressed it as if it actually gave her some sort of power over him.  "If I don't forgive you, do you promise to try that again?  After hearing your boasts, I can't help but think you weren't putting your full effort into it."  She glanced around as if distracted, the tip of her tongue flitting to the corner of her mouth.  "Maybe I should--"

It was then that someone came through the bar and fell over in a bloody heap.  Seeing no immediate reaction from anyone else, Ewa assumed that whoever it was was not a casualty of an ongoing fight and quickly left her chair to help.

"Is there a doctor in here?" she called out.  When she got closer she gasped, unintentionally, at the sight of his wounds.  These are real.... by all that's good.... real.... even Van wasn't damaged this badly.  Who would agree to this?  He could die.  REALLY die.  She still had strips of bandages in her coat, but they were useless for untreated gashes of this size.  "These need to be closed," she calls back over her shoulder.  "Does anyone have thread or glue" or unimprinted supplements "or anything?  Al?"  It was always best to single someone out when you needed help, and he seemed the most knowledgeable about this place.  Ewa was too focused on trying to slow the blood flow to actually look back though.

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

~Rathien~

Rathien feels Ewa withdraw from him even though she puts on a show of not doing so.  Being slightly Empathic had it's advantages too.  His pointed ears perk at the sound of a newcomer and he follows Ewa's movements with his eyes.  She thought he was boasting...  Well he couldn't expect her to truly know him after all.  He had merely told the story to explain how he'd become a Lord of the Hegemony,  though he only held the position in technicality.  He hadn't exercised any of the power they'd given him, so they probably thought him dead.  He smiles to himself as he stands...she had seen one thing correctly though.  The Hegemony thought they'd bought him, that they'd stopped some glorious assassination attempt, but of course they hadn't.  He didn't Hunt for money or power, he Hunted to Hunt.  He had no plans to destroy any of them, but they were no safer than anyone else even now.  He looks around the table as Ewa mentions "Al"...so the Andalite had been right.

He stands and walks over to Ewa, stepping up to the injured man and kneeling next to him.  "These are strange wounds...not made by any kind of energy weapon that I'm familiar with."  Helping this man might earn some compassion from Ewa, and perhaps he could right some of her misinterpretations.  He pulls a vial of synthetic adrenaline and endorphine from his belt-kit, along with a micro dermal mender, a toy he'd picked up from a facility on Deeves 9...they had had so many that they probably hadn't even missed it.

"If there are internal injuries, there's little I can do."  Rathien switches the handy little device to its surgical laser...one could never be too prepared to stop bleeding or knit skin in his line of work.  "Field surgery can only do so much."

Rathien begins with the worst-looking injuries, cauterizing any bleeding veins and vessels with the low-intensity laser.  He hums and then begins to speak as he works, not taking his eyes from the strange being on the floor.  "I do hope you didn't get the wrong impression of me, Ewa.  I destroyed Viran because I was contracted to do so, and because it was his time to die.  Whether you believe me or not, I am an arbiter of Fate.  I can...sense...when someone's Dream is supposed to end...when it comes near to that time anyway.  I carry out Her will."

Once Rathien is satisfied that the bleeding from the visible injuries is under control, he switches the device back to its mender setting and begins knitting the being's skin.  All this for a possible rendezvous with a female and her lover...so very worth it if it pays off though.  "I do not sense that this man's Dream is nearing its end.  I will admit that I do not live a...civilized...lif e.  But you'd be surprised at what I'm capable of."  This time he takes his eyes off the wounds for a moment to look at Ewa, smiling a bit.  He looks back down and continues his methodical work, knitting skin.  "I can be a very warm individual when I want to be."

Satisfied that most of the wounds are knitted enough not to be gaping anymore, he takes the vial of adrenaline and punches it into the back of the dermal mender.  He puts the device up to the being's neck and injects a small dosage, about half of what he would administer to himself in a similar situation, baring his fangs in a grimace as the device pierces the being's neck.  "Hopefully this will cause him to regain consciousness and take an edge off of the pain, if not I can give him a bit more...but if his Dream is truly to continue, he needs attention from a medical station."

[pyrebird]

An assassin, a "Dream-ender", as he called himself. The Hunter's preference to speak Common certainly supported his tale, as he sounded unused to Standard Beryllian. Van understood; the vibrato was often too tricky to deal with, and the dialects too many.

But, his story was the more compelling deal, and it was one of love and gruesome betrayal, not unlike the many illicit liasons performed by Oligarchs back home. Unsurprising, but Van had always thought the Hegemony was above that sort of thing. That they would know a problem as soon as it stepped among their ranks...

Unless, like the masterminds they tended to be, they rather enjoyed having someone who would so willingly and cleanly kill Viran. It wasn't above them, and such weaknesses were just covers for their games. They were holders of power, and loved the control they had...

If this Mirwind-Rathien was their stabilizing force, then it was a dangerous game indeed they were playing. The man was clearly threatening on all the levels Van knew, but the Hegemony was a shadowy force, a political organization of chessmasters. Chessmasters so old, they were less like individuals, and more an example of dictatorial groupthink. Thus, the Hegemony.

The Hunter was no true Hegemon, a false Lord allowed his place, quite like how Van was a false heir to his family. And, unlike Van, all the pieces fell in just the right order. But Van considered himself lucky to be free of the chains of power, and he had less reason to fear than he thought. And, poor Mar-Not-Mar! Even though the Hunter was a Lord of dubious claim, the title was still higher than that of the leading Oligarch.

Van wasn't sure what to say, but thankfully, Ewa set the pace. He had to admire her confidence. Van smiled to himself, and thought, You know, I really can learn a thing or two from this girl. Lucky I ran into her, I suppose. I can't let myself freak out over this guy.. I just can't. He may be here, but what proof is there that the Hegemony is chasing me? None!

In fact, I'm not entirely unsure whether or not they are watching him, too. Everyone exaggerates. It's a Beryllian thing. Maybe he's worse off than even I! At least nobody cares about this failed invasion of ours....

Quite suddenly, a newcomer stumbled into the Bar. The sudden aural stench of near-morbidity stung Van's senses, and made him feel rather ill. Oh, how lucky Rathien was to be able to stand it! Ewa wasn't among their kind so while it repulsed her, it didn't surprise her nearly as much as it did Van. He was so used to cleaner wounds, really...

[Chad32]

Jocun noticed the Humanoid with the Andalite looked tense as well. Would it even matter if he changed clothes? They knew he was Imperial. Though it might help if they didn't have a constant reminder of it. He got up, leaving his drink to save his seat, and went into the back room of the bar. Minutes later he came back, wearing bright colored clothes more suited to someone taking a vacation, though these clothes were just as tight as the ones before. He paid the bartender to refill his drink, and continued sipping while listening to the nearby conversation.

[Aluminator (Kit)]

Al listened to Rathien's story with growing interest. He hadn't really pictured the being as being quite so... conniving. This was good information to have. He transmitted a quick record of the conversation to Salem's communicator, which would cause it to beep, and allow Salem to hear Rathien's story at his convenience.

When the injured being came crashing into the bar, Al glanced at Van and Jasper with a shrug, then followed Ewa and Rathien over, cringing as she used his name. Rathien still might not know him, but his cover wouldn't last long at this rate. He knelt down next to the injured newcomer and watched as Rathien worked to close his wounds. They were much more severe than he'd realized at first.

"So you're a medic as well as a killer," he said offhandedly to the hunter, his eyes wide as he looked over the gashes that the stranger had sustained. "I don't think there's a medical station around here. The best we could do is to find someone with a ship that has some medical facilities." He looked around the bar, sizing up the occupants, and trying to determine who might not only have decent medical facilities available, but also be willing to help a complete stranger. The two imperials? They'd probably just as soon let the man die. The War Prince captained a Dome Ship, and might be willing to help, but it wouldn't likely make much difference by the time they got him out to the ship's far orbit.

"There are rooms in the back," he said, pointing to the back hallway. "If you can get him there and slow his bleeding, I'll see if I can find some medical supplies." He stood and walked back to the table, "Van, Jasper, either of you have medical supplies handy? Or better yet, a medical facility?"