Redemption (Rated T) - A Pirate/Fleet RP

[Zylaa]

Zylaa listened blankly to the squirrels' threats. "Why do the small furry animals always seem to be the most dangerous?" she wondered aloud. She wandered belowdecks to her room, where all 300 weasels sat. Glaring.

"Okay, guys," Zylaa said, "Listen up. I think you all have learned your lesson by now. We are now docked at Tabloid Town. Your grounding is over. Go find some shiny things, torment a few innocent civillians-- just remember to not get caught. Have a blast. Any questions?"

She asked the question to an empty room, as the squealing, delighted weasels had surged past her, out the door, up to the deck, and over the gangplank, dispersing into the city.

"Guess not."

Zylaa came back up to the deck following Speck and her cargo of new delicious beverages. She thought. They may be the explodable kind. Zylaa still had a small flask of lemony explosives that Speck had given her before the last war, just in case her cutlass wasn't enough to get her out of a sticky situation.

Seeing Jina still on deck, Zylaa called out, "What're you waiting for? Let's go frolic!"

The execution still preyed on her mind, but she hoped to push it out with some good, semi-clean fun. And information-getting, of course. She had to be somewhat responsible out there.

[Jina]

Land? Sounds fun. And I don't think I've been to Tabloid Town before... Jina picked herself up from the floor, and grabbed her dagger from nearby. Boy, if he saw me now...

Then she was pulled from her thoughts by a voice. "What're you waiting for? Let's go frolic!"

Jina turned around to see that it was Zylaa who had called out to her. "Sounds fun," she replied. "I could do with someone to show me around, anyway."

[Huntress]

Hunty had leaned on the railing, focusing on the town already and forging plans in her head, dismissing one after the other. She wasn't good at tracking down information. She was good at extracting it, but finding someone who'd contain it in this city of millions would prove to be tricky.

"If we land, Cap'n, I could take a trip to Dunburrow and find him, bring him the news..."

"No," Hunty said sternly. "You're a pirate as of now, and we have a more important mission, if you remember. Dunburrow is quite the distance away. Let the squirrels deliver the message, we won't have to keep 'em on board that way anyway."

She glanced at Speck, who'd done some plank-scrubbing in the meantime, and, understandably enough, now asked, "Anyone know a decent place in town to get a bath?"

"Plenty," Bloody Mary said, looking up from the deck, nearly back to dark blue now. He knew that there'd be no shoulder-riding if he was going to leave stains, and he liked his high positions, so he'd worked fast. "'cept most of them aren't decent. What's wrong with good old seawater?" He paused. "Although there's this nice bathhouse down on Sundown Avenue. Great place for gathering info."

Hunty took almost the entire meepitgang along this time, leaving only Joe the Editor to look after things. The ship was comparatively safe under the watchful eye of the fuzzy kraken who cruised around under the ship, happy with his slow course of life for the time being. And the captain needed eyes behind her back in Tabloid Town.

"Try to be back by sunset," she said grimly, knowing that it'd be impossible for her to gather up the crew once they were already in. "And remember, this ain't fun and games. We're here to gather info, so keep your eyes and ears open, don't say anything redundant, don't drink too much, and if you hear anything about Leraye or demons in general, remember it like your life depended on it. Cos it easily might."

***

The captain didn't go to shore often; when she did, she preferred to avoid bigger towns and other places where pirates could easily get in trouble. Tabloid Town was comparatively safe for a pirate, which was to say that it wasn't any more dangerous for a pirate than it was for anyone else, but even so she wasn't a fan of crowds. But people tended to keep away from her. The meepits, some of them clinging to her belt and corset, others following her on the ground, were a clear warning by themselves.

"Psst, hey, lady!"

The captain turned to look and spotted a small booth in a dark alleyway that... now that she looked at it, wasn't all too dark.

"Handmade," said the merchantwoman behind the counter, beaming. "Finest quality. Nobody's ever complained so far."

Hunty looked at the goods on the counter.

"...They're glowing."

"See? Shows the quality." The seller nodded cheerfully. "Only today, only for you, nineteen shinies."

"I'm a pirate," Hunty said dryly. "I can't afford to... stick out from the crowd like this." She looked down again. "Especially like this."

The saleswoman didn't seem too bothered by this. "Your call. City maps then? Five shinies a piece, very detailed."

"To label myself as a tourist? No thanks."

"Sausage inna bun, perhaps?"

After a lot of heavy bargaining, Hunty was walking away from the booth, eating a sausage inna bun she'd acquired for a shiny less than the woman had been asking. She had to admit that it didn't taste half bad.

"What'd she call it again?"

"Hot dog," Bloody Mary said, sniffing the thing the captain was holding. "And I think I can vouch for that. Where to now?"

"Downtown. There are some shops there that could come in handy."

((If anyone wants to come/be along, be my guest :3 Just remember, I ain't buying you any sausages inna bun.))

[Bacon]

((Bacon's got a hard radio line to Amneiger, who as you remember is watching Fraze through the surveillance systems. Just thought I'd mention that to explain how Bacon heard this.))

"It should take no more than a few hours to have a temporary ban of all ship-mounted weapons systems within 100,000 kilometers of the planet."

"Wait a sec, Fraze said what?" Bacon asked himself rhetorically, wondering what could have possibly gone awry in Fraze's head that he would have agreed to something like that.

"He said 'It should take no more-'..."

"I know what he said, you over-analytical machine!" Bacon interrupted.

"Headshot."

Bacon increased his Warthog's speed in the videogame, unsure of X-3's position as he flew off a hill, and got shot in the head in midair. "What the heck?! That's impossible, even for a computer!"

The ship laughed, "For one as limited as you, perhaps."

"You're hacking the game aren't you?" Bacon asked the ship's computer mock seriously, half wondering if he really was.

"No. If you don't believe me I'll bring up a log of my compute cycles for the last ten minutes, and allow you to look at a real-time display of ongoing compute cycles." X-3 said, already opening two new screens on two monitors, respectively, that flanked the TV.

"Thanks, but that doesn't do me any good. I may have Amneiger look at those logs later." Bacon replied, glancing at them briefly before continuing to play the game.

"Behind you."

Bacon dodged to the right, only to find X-3 had attached a sticky grenade to him before the warning. "RATS!" Bacon hissed as his character exploded. "This is insane!"

[Speck]

Before she even set foot in Tabloid Town, Speck struggled to get down to the dock. She could only just keep her balance on the tiny ramp that led up to the Weewoo's deck, her crate full of rum punch preventing her from seeing the plank of wood below her.

Afore I hit that bathhouse, I have to get rid of this stuff, she thought to herself. Lest any pickpocket pick her as a target near the taverns, Speck shifted the crate to her left hip. It gave her an awkward gait, but at least she now had a free hand to reach one of her daggers.

Her trek through the hovels, taverns, and pubs near the docks was uneventful. The pirate was sure that it was because of the Weewoo's reputation. Little did she know that people were avoiding her for the splotches of fresh blood on her clothes. Unfortunately, this caught the unwanted attention of a passing patrolman.

"Excuse me, miss. Would you be so kind as to stop for a moment," He spoke in a weary, official voice.

Speck swore under her breath before turning around to face the cop, "Is there a problem, officer?"

The patrolman looked her up and down, eyes stopping briefly at every splotch of blood, "I'm just wondering why a fine young lady such as yourself would be wandering around in what appear to be blood-soaked clothes?"

He almost sounded as though the phrase 'fine young lady' left a bad taste in his mouth. Speck forced a smile after she examined the blood on her clothes, "This? Oh, you are mistaken, sir!" She laughed, "I am assistant to the cook on the Firefly. Some tomato sauce must've spattered on my clothes without my notice."

"What business do you have in port?" The questions didn't end. Nor did the officer ask what business the ship had in port. He seemed skeptical of her response.

"Trade."

"Trade? What exactly is it you're trading?" His gaze fell on the crate of rum punch.

"Imports from the Sub-Board Islands. If you'll excuse me, I've got business to attend to," She gave a short imitation-curtsey with her jacket. He nodded, satisfied with her answers.

--

Speck was exhausted by the time she got to the Karma Pub & Inn after walking what felt like forever up the steep cobblestone road. She turned down the alley to the inn, straight to the half-open Dutch door of the kitchen. The smell of fried fish tickled her nose through the top half of the door. Knocking on the doorframe would not have been heard in the clatter of dishes and the yell of kitchen orders.

Instead, Speck shouted into the noise, "Knock knock!"

A sous chef of 23 met her at the door, leaning on the bottom half of it. He spoke smoothly, despite a scratch of smoker's voice, "Well, well... if it isn't my favorite buccaneer."

"Keep your voice down, Fredrick. Someone might hear you," She hissed.

"In this noise? They'd be lucky to hear me cough. And you know how loud I cough."

"How loud you-- Look, I'm not here to discuss the volume of your coughs. Which, by the way, wouldn't be so loud if you just stopped smoking," Speck thrust a bottle of rum punch into his hands.

"What's the damage this time? Fifteen? Twenty?" He uncorked the bottle and sniffed before taking a swig. His wet lips smacked in appreciation.

"Thirty," She looked to the entrance of the alley. All she saw was a stray dog stop to look in.

"Thirty!" He sputtered, replacing the cork on the bottle, "That's robbery. Murder, even. Times are tough around here, you know!"

"If times are tough, they're even tougher at sea. Especially now with all those ancient pirate fleets on the prowl. Things aren't like they used to be."

"You can say that again. Did you hear about that new port they're putting in?" Frederick fished out a coin purse from his pocket and started counting bills and coins.

"New port? Where? They've got the whole bay littered with ports. Where's the room?"

"Not a sea port. Some kind of star port? Sky port?" He scratched his chin, still counting money.

"Doesn't the town already have one of those?"

"Yeah. But it's not big enough anymore. More people are willing to risk their lives exploring the stars than they are exploring the sea these days,"

Speck scoffed just as Fredrick handed her a fistful of money. "There you are. Thirty per bottle. That comes to... thirty times eighteen..."

"Five forty," She counted the bills and coins before putting them in her own coin purse. She stuffed the pouch of money in her cleavage.

"Fredrick! I said a white sauce, not a brown sauce! Who's watching this pan!" A woman screamed from the kitchen.

"That would be me!" Fredrick shouted back to the head chef. Speck handed him the crate, and he gave her a rushed farewell before disappearing back into the kitchen. Likewise, she briskly walked out of the alley and onto the street. If she followed it halfway to the docks, she could turn right onto Sundown Avenue for that bathhouse.

((This was fun to write... however pointless I think it may be. XD))

[Kat]

Gathering information was the chore of the day.

Kat stretched out her arms and stared up into the sky. Mage Manor and Castle Kestrel were both pretty far right now; she had to be close to the ship. Today, she was Kalianne Triss Lunara, First Mate. Her duties as knight and mage would have to be put on hold; her guild-mates usually understood.

But technically, her duties as mage were never put on hold; wherever she went, she always carried her wand-slash-staff.

* * *

Her wand-slash-staff, which was definitely more wand than staff now, always drew attention. Kat tried her best to look like a nondescript pirate wench, but she was sure she failed miserably at it. A little blond boy clutching his mother's hand pointed at Kat, who quickly looked away and turned a corner without even glancing up at the street sign.

She stopped when she nearly skidded in a puddle of putrid water that was the same color as the road. Regaining her balance, she decided to duck into the tavern closest to her accursed puddle, ignoring the querulous stares she got from a group of buxom gypsies. And yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that they knew something about her.

The tavern, simply called The Landfish, was not crowded, not like some inns Kat would duck in and out of, usually just to collect information or meet up with someone. And as though Lady Luck were on her side, the first words she heard after the bell over the front door tinkled to announce her entrance were, "...there're demons about, aye."

The speaker was an old man stroking his gray beard before taking a sip from the whiskey bottle before him. He let out a long sigh, and stared at his audience, three young men who were so identical that they could only be triplets.

Demons?

It could easily just be another one of those crazy urban legends that turned out to be nothing but supernatural fiction. Yet, for all she knew, it could be more...much, much more.

Kat chose the nearest empty table and sat down, keeping her ears - and eyes - open.

[Goosh]

West Tabloid Town. Miles of twisting cobbles flouting their contempt at the very idea of a grid pattern. Escorts of negotiable affection happily flaunting their wares at any passerby old enough to stare. Rider happily strolled ahead of Goosh, who was distracted by all the shiny things in the dusty shop windows.

It was...numbing. A deterrant, pushing the bold, vivid memories of the execution at sea out of his mind for the time being. He let the throngs of people gently restore his senses, and give him a bit of practice. He nicked three wallets and a small dog before anyone checked to see why their leash was surprisingly light.

They ducked into the Grey Lupe, advertised in faded lettering on the door as "home o' the bilge water what rot yer gut". Sunlight, after some serious effort, managed to stream through the window to illuminate the curling smoke that was the staple of any stereotypical tavern.

Rider was, of course, slapped upon being seen. Hussy. Goosh sighed and slid himself into the nearby booth, signalling the waitress before realizing that taverns of this standard would require something more along the lines of a bellow.

"So," he said to Rider over the sea of voices, "I suppose we need to get some information from somebody around here. Do you have any nearby contacts?" he asked her, before adding, "Bodily contact doesn't count."

[Zylaa]

"And remember, this ain't fun and games. We're here to gather info, so keep your eyes and ears open, don't say anything redundant, don't drink too much, and if you hear anything about Leraye or demons in general, remember it like your life depended on it. Cos it easily might."

"So... somewhat less frolicing," Zylaa said to Jina as they walked down the gangplank. "Alas. You've never been to Tabloid Town before? You're in for a treat. It's a shiny place."

Ahead of them, some of the weasels ran by, with some no-doubt-stolen jewelry already around their necks.

"We'll head straight inland from here," Zylaa said. Straight in would keep them out of the worst of the streets, but still in a place where pirate attire wasn't automatically condemned. "I plan to hit a newsstand before any drinking." Okay, she admitted to herself, a newspaper was not the most original way to get news, but it was a bit more reliable than finding talkative, informed strangers at the bar. "Got any other ideas on how to collect the information we need?"

((Jina-- feel free to keep us walking, get us to a pub, etc. when you post. And Goosh... what did you do with the small dog? XD))

[Jina]

Jina walked with Zylaa, listening intently.

"Got any other ideas on how to collect the information we need?" Zylaa asked.

"This is a pretty big city, who's to say he ain't living here? If we could find a directory or something it might be worth checking... but let's go with your ideas first."

They continued walking, and Jina bought a newspaper as they were passing by a stall.

"Don't see anything about demons... so I guess we need to go to the taverns."

Zylaa led the way to a small pub on the corner of two streets called The Human Cannonball. As Jina entered she discovered why it had been called this, because in what was obviously the aftermath of a brawl, the winners had just lit the fuse.

"Nice place," she said, grinning.

[Rider]

[glow=red,2,300]”Keep that dog, Goosh. Shiva will be mad that he missed a free Cyborg roast. We might as well give him something fresh to chew on.”

"I suppose we need to get some information from somebody around here. Do you have any nearby contacts? Bodily contact doesn't count."

"I'm hoping to meet a half-demon here, a pickpocket by the name of Schzair." She signaled the waitress and got an almost immediate pitcher of ale. "You'll know her by her unusually blue eyes and her naturally blue nails." Rider took a long drink and without looking up, said, "And here she is. On cue as always. I'll be having my purse back, Schzair."

"All you've got is junk as always." A small woman seemed to materialize beside Rider. She crouched like a frog, and her long, pointed ears twitched back and forth as if to a beat no one else could hear.

"And why should I carry anything of value in a simple purse when dogs like you crawl about?" Rider's face broke into a sudden grin. "It's good to see you again, my old friend."

"I wish I could say the same, but this won't even buy me a proper meal."

"Then come and share our ale," Rider offered. "There may even be a meal in it if you'll help me and my young friend."

"Should have known you'd only leave your proud seas on business, Red." Schzair poured herself a careful half-glass and raised it to blue lips. "What can I do you for?"

"We were looking for a demon. I don't know if he's of your clan or even of your world. His name is Leraye and he didn't do any favors for me and mine during the Guilds War some time back. Green-eyed alchemist. A skinny stick of a man.”

The half-demon crossed her legs and stared at the half-rotted wooden ceiling for a moment. “Leraye… Not one of mine. Alchemy is a forbidden art among mine. Leraye… The name sounds familiar. It’s on the tip of my tongue… Oh, I don’t think so well when I’m thirsty.”

“Take as much ale as you like!” Rider said, making no effort to hide her annoyance.

“Not that dog spit, Red, you know what I like.”

Rider sighed and dug some shinies from her left boot. “Oy, wench! A bottle of your finest Sniddberry Wine!”

“Oh yes, I remember now!” Schzair smiled wickedly. “Leraye’s from my world, alright. Not from my clan. His clan lives in the western deserts and relies on alchemy to survive. Leraye was a master at his craft. Machines and magical items, these forbidden items found their way into my clan’s lands. The best bore his seal, the snake-dragon wrapped around a crescent moon. But eventually… they just stopped coming. Folks said he stopped making them.”

The wine arrived, and Rider graciously poured a glass for her half-demon companion. “And why would he stop?”

“Folk say he was just sick of it, but there’s always the rumors.”

“Rumors?” Rider coaxed, holding the bottle up as if offering to refill Schzair’s glass.

Schzair held her drained glass up. “That he broke some sort of mystical alchemic laws. That he killed someone with alchemy.”

Rider nodded, purposely withholding the wine. Of course even demons had laws. “So what would’ve happened if that were the case?”

“He would have been banished from our world. Physically unable to return, even if he wanted to. He would have found another world to bunker down on. I heard he took a shining to one of the less advanced planes.”

“You know something,” Rider said, still withholding the wine.

“And I’m telling you all I know.” Her elegant blue nails gripped the bottle’s neck. “Now, we made a deal, Red. You’re going to go back on it?”

Rider made small, frustrated noises and let go of the bottle. “Wench, a plate of your freshest turkey!” She extracted a few shinies from a pocket on the inside of her jacket.

“Always Robin’s honorable sprout,” Schzair said, laughing. “And you even remembered I don’t like pig. Now, Leraye may even be on this plane. Nowhere you could possibly reach, of course. That demon could even pluck the moon from the sky.”

“What do you mean?” Rider asked, getting steadily more annoyed. But she was talking to thin air. The turkey was placed in front of a seemingly empty chair and vanished as soon as it was set down.

“She knows something,” Rider said, knowing well that Schzair was still within hearing range. “And she still has my purse. Goosh, let’s go.”[/glow]

[Ikkin]

"Removing weaponry from the space around the NTWF is just a matter of redirecting the ships already traveling in that space, and then directing all ships to keep their distance from the planet," Fraze explained. Ikkin wondered whether that was really such an simple matter as he made it seem, but, as long as he planned on following through, she figured it didn't affect her much. "And yes, I think it would be best to draw up research proposals for both sides. For that, I would suggest that some of our science officers speak with the Mages."

Ikkin really hoped that some of the other Mages would be more knowledgeable about drawing up proposals. Talking to the Fleet officers could be interesting, but she certainly didn't trust herself not to look like a total fool. Mages generally weren't as organized about their research as scientists tended to be.

On the other hand, it could give Ikkin the opportunity to get some of the information she wanted, which was always good.

Fraze then turned his attention to whoever had been calling him. "I wasn't aware that there was someone who needed to find me. If that's the case, I'm afraid I had better speak to whomever it is. I'm sorry about this." With that, he started across the room.

"It's not a problem at all," Ikkin said, hoping he heard her, as he had just crossed the threshold of the door. Fortunately, he didn't close it.

"What was it you wanted to speak with me about?" he asked whoever was out there, seeming a bit annoyed about the interruption.

A voice from outside the room replied, "Spec Op, I, along with a couple research officers, are working on a classified research project. For safety reasons, we'd like to borrow your suit." Ikkin wondered whether it belonged to the Brian who she was supposed to have told to talk to Fraze. If it was... was that bike that she kind-of-almost-not-really landed on part of the classified project?

Fraze and the science officer talked about the suit for a while longer, and then, the officer walked into the room to get a glass of water. He then turned to walk back out, and tripped right over Sev's tail. "…Is that a phoenix?" he asked.

Sev just smirked. "Of course I am. And that was my tail you just tripped over. You should apologize."

Ikkin shot Sev a warning glare. "Diplomacy, Sev."

Sev sighed. "Oh, right. No setting anyone on fire while acting as ambassador. To think I almost forgot," he said dryly.

"Look, if you're going to complain about it, you should just go and do something else while Fraze and I finish up here."

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea. Anything is better than politics," Sev said. "Maybe I'll take a look at that library that you were offered."

"I didn't know you liked reading."

"Who said I was reading?" Sev smirked as he vanished in a flash of fire.

"If he sets the library on fire, I swear I'll..." Ikkin cut off, not really sure what the proper punishment for burning down a library during a diplomatic visit was.

"Sorry about him, by the way," she said to Brian, whose name tag she could see now. "He doesn't take well to diplomacy; I just needed him for the ride."


***

Sev wasn't quite so disrespectful towards books as he would have had Ikkin think. Sure, they were flammable, but that didn't mean they couldn't be useful, too.

Besides, the two of them were supposed to be here for the Pirates, and while Ikkin had done a pretty good job so far of securing the Pirates' safety under the pretense of being there only for the Mages, Sev thought they might as well take back something a bit more tangible. And Cap'n Hunty was mighty curious about Leraye's whereabouts, after all.

Of course, that kind of information would probably be classified, but, that would just make the task all the more interesting. Then again, trying to find information in a book would be interesting enough as it was, considering that he didn't actually have hands.

Fortunately, the library itself seemed to recognize his plight. A little robot buzzed down from the ceiling and hovered in front of him. It was mostly spherical in shape, with a little screen on the front of it that was currently blank. "Bzzt what can I help you find, Mage visitor?"

Sev was rather surprised that it knew which guild he was visiting from, and made a point of recognizing that it would probably tell him only about things that he was allowed to see. Well, that was as good a place to start, he figured. Ikkin would have been annoyed if he tried to steal classified information without looking to see if it was unclassified, anyway.

"Leraye the alchemist," he said clearly, having heard enough about technology to know how fiddly it could be sometimes.

"Bzzt are you looking for a historical account of the last Guilds' War?"

"No. Current whereabouts."

"Bzzt information unaccessible at current security level. Bzzt password required."

Sev smirked. "Cold fire."

"Bzzt that is a logical impossibility."

Sev responded by proving that cold fire existed, by engulfing the entire robot librarian in it. Some code displayed on the screen in the front of the robot - "Cold fire = true; Password = Cold fire; Password = true; Authorization accepted."

"Bzzt right this way," the robot said, leading Sev around, somewhat in a daze. He did, however, have to unlock a door to get to the files in question, showing Sev that his trick actually had done something. "Bzzt here is your book." The robot caught the book in some kind of beam and lowered it down to Sev, who took it in one of his claws.

"Thank you oh-so-kindly," Sev said, giving a fake bow before disappearing in a flash.

"Bzzt Never knew why there was any security on those records, anyway," the robot said once he was gone. "Bzzt same information as in the unclassified. Now to bzzt get that logic chip bzzt replaced."

[Fraze]

Fraze flinched as Brian tripped over the phoenix's tail. He remembered Sev from the war a month ago--it had helped him at one point, however briefly.

Sev didn't seem too angry about the accidental intrusion on his personal space, and said he would go to the library, making a vague reference to burning books. Fraze thought it best not to say anything about it, knowing that both Amneiger and Bacon were monitoring the proceedings, and would be sure to monitor the phoenix if need be.

Fraze could breathe somewhat more easily now. The formalities were out of the way, some measure of an agreement had been reached with minimal difficulty, and--most importantly--nothing had been blown up in the process.

"I don't think there is much more we need to discuss. Can I interest you in a short tour of Spacefleet?"
Just the nonrestricted sections, of course, Fraze thought to himself. Showing more of what we are and what we do may help the Mages trust us more.

[Ikkin]

"I don't think there is much more we need to discuss. Can I interest you in a short tour of Spacefleet?" Fraze asked.

"That sounds like it should be interesting," Ikkin said. "Of course. Lead the way. And don't worry about Sev too much; he's a lot more bark than bite, most of the time."


***

Sev, meanwhile, appeared half a mile above Tabloid Town, pulling himself into a dive from his standing position. He pulled out of the dive about seven feet over the ground, swooping over people's heads at breakneck speed and laughing to himself as he scared the heck out of them. Cap'n Hunty should be just ahead - he pulled up quickly, almost wrenching his wings out of socket, and brought himself almost to a stop over her head. For any normal bird, doing that kind of thing would be crazy, but, Sev's resurrection ability made it easy to prize the adrenaline rush from doing insane things over safety.

Unfortunately, it wasn't just his own safety that he treated in that way. "Heads up!" he said, before dropping the book towards Hunty's head from about eight feet up. "Information on the demon, courtesy of Spacefleet's finest."

[Kat]

"Demons have their own world, but some of 'em wander in others. Some go by their own accord; others've been forced out, aye," the old man continued. "Y'know, there've been sightings of strange beings 'round here, boys. Best to keep on your toes. Ya never know when a demon will creep up behind you and...steal your soul."

His voice rasped at the last three words, but it did rasp enough for everyone else in the entire tavern to hear. Many of them simply raised eyebrows and went back to whatever they were doing, while a redheaded man twitched in his seat and was offered a large tankard of ale to drink. Kat kept one hand on her wand...just in case.

One of the triplets raised his hand slowly like an indecisive schoolboy and asked, "Grandfather, how would you know if demons were about?"

"Yeah, I wanna hunt demons!" his two brothers crowed simultaneously, also like little schoolboys.

"Oh, believe me, you'll know," Grandfather answered, grinning and showing off a perfect set of teeth punctuated only by a single golden canine.

At that moment, his eyes glowed red - or was Kat just seeing things?

She wasn't just seeing things. Chills crept up her spine; there was something wrong with the aura that surrounded The Landfish. It was like the air around her was tainted, but she couldn't put her finger on what was wrong...

"So, mage, you've been listenin' all this time, have you?" He suddenly glanced over his shoulder, staring straight at Kat. His piercing amber eyes bore into her brown ones, and she could feel everyone else looking at her.

"M - me?" she asked, trying to play the typical innocent wench again and keeping her hand away from her wand.

"Only mages would think that lil' sticks like that one in your belt are better'n nice, old-fashioned blades," the old man continued, standing up from his chair slowly. His three companions huddled together, whispering among themselves. "That's why I don' trust mages. Y'turn yar back, and they blast yar behinds off like it ain't no big deal. An' they see things others don' see. What d'you see now, magey?" he asked with a sneer.

It was then Kat felt the strange aura again; it was stronger, overpowering the rest of the air around her. But she was sure she wasn't the only one who could feel it; the rest of the people inside the tavern were already looking sick. Even the old man looked uneasy as he walked toward her...

The aura was coming from him, and he started to glow with an eerie green light.

"Everyone, run! He's not human!" Kat cried. She glared at the man, who was absently stroking his beard, and drew her wand. A middle-aged woman fainted as she saw the wand extending into a staff, and had to be carried out. The Landfish was emptied instantly, and only five people remained; Kat, the old man who wasn't really a man, and the triplets.

When everyone was gone, she proclaimed grandly, "So I'm a mage, as well as a pirate. But you're a demon."

[Fraze]

"That sounds like it should be interesting," Ikkin replied. "Of course. Lead the way. And don't worry about Sev too much; he's a lot more bark than bite, most of the time."
"Excellent!" Fraze said with a smile.

Fraze led the way out of the room. They were on a wide, spacious upper walkway above the civilian section of Spacefleet HQ. Pausing at the railing he had been leaning at before Ikkin arrived, he took time to name some of the races milling about beneath them.
"Corbanites," Fraze said, pointing to a group squat, round creatures covered completely in environmental suits. "Uryuom dignitaries," he added, this time gesturing to small green-skinned aliens with large eyes and puffball antennae. "Seneschai Aluit, Hooloovoo, Akerataeli," he continued, naming things that barely seemed like life-forms to human eyes. "At any one time, there are dozens of alien races here."
He continued on down the stairway to the lower level, leading Ikkin past shops and restaurants. "This is one of my favorite places to eat," he said, stopping in front of a small restaurant that was little more than a hole in the wall. Deep, pungent, rich smells wafted out of it. "I never could pronounce this place's name, but it's based around some race's cooking philosophy that says that the smell of food can give one life force.
"Of course, for more traditional and cheaper food, there's always the old mess hall. They serve practically anything and everything there. You could eat there three meals a day for a year and only have tried a third of what they offer. And conveniently situated next to it is the bar. Kinda like the mess hall, they serve drinks you never imagined possible. Not all of them are safe for humans, either."

Next, Fraze led Ikkin to the perimeter of the central civilian section. Interspersed around the edge were thick sliding double doors. "The station branches out around here. Down these doors are the Science and R&D departments. You probably arrived around here. If other Mages agree to let us study their magic, they'll probably come here."
He continued walking to a different set of doors some distance away. "Down this hallway are the holodecks. We use them for training." The occasional thump or boom came through the doors, from something eventful happening in one holodeck or another. "They're also used for recreational purposes. In them, we can create completely interactive environments that you can walk around in, and computer-generated people or creatures that you can talk to, dance with, fight with, and so on."
After walking a bit longer, Fraze stopped at a third set of double doors. "Through here we have the physical section of the library. Spacefleet's library is composed of books, notebooks, and electronic hardware, but all of this information is backed up electronically. That way, we can lose one copy of information and the other copy still remains." Fraze opened one door, showing the rows upon rows of tightly-packed books, stretching on far in both directions. "This is just one level of the library, there are five more."

Fraze closed the door again. "That's all that I think you may be interested in. Would you like to get something to eat, or will you be heading back?"
((Twenty cookies for each plagiarized alien race you recognize!))