TEST DRIVE #3 - Alien Bazaar/Ten Forward

[tenforward_m]

#1

Option 001. Alien planet, marketplace: So you're new to this whole space travel thing. The ship is cool and all, but there are hundreds of alien worlds out there. You want to explore. To see what the universe REALLY looks like.

Well, here's your chance! Your first stop is this lovely indoor marketplace, which looks kind of like a mall. There are stalls one after the other as far as the eye can see, and they sell all kinds of things: food, clothes, trinkets, animals, fabrics, jewelry, perfumes, books, etc etc. Some things look human, easy to recognize; other things look very alien. There are two levels, and constant chatter as people hawk their wares and discuss prices.

Do you want to explore? Poke at the weird shops? Buy a gift for a new friend? Flirt with someone at the food court? Maybe you see a pickpocket, and must run to the aid of the victim. Maybe there's some other villainy afoot. After all, a crowded marketplace is a good place for villains to lurk, causing trouble. Whether you're a hero or just an unassuming traveler, there proves to be some adventure for you on this planet.


2

Option 002. Aboard the Enterprise, Ten Forward: You have no idea what just happened. One minute you were home, and now you're on a spaceship, in the middle of a crowded room. It looks like a bar. There are people eating and drinking, some in uniform, others not. Some are clearly aliens.

You've managed to land in Ten Forward a long bar with barstools and a bartender, tables sprinkled throughout, and the far wall is nothing but windows out to space. It looks like a nice lounge, low conversation making the room hum.

Better ask some questions and find out where you are, or just tap the closest person on the shoulder and try to make friends. The bar is open.

Comments

[dreams_dont_die]

"Like a tesseract device," he says, sounding distinctly unimpressed with the idea, muscles around his jaw tightening. He's had enough of tesseracts aboard his ship. "Someone warping space around us to bring us here. If someone wanted me, they could just ask."

He really doesn't like that idea and now, for the first time, he sounds annoyed.

He's had too many run-ins with tesseracts this year to be anything else. And without Harper and Trance around, this is going to be a hard one to get out of on his own, unless he can work out who brought him here and why.

Though it's plainly not the kid's fault, so when he's offered a hand, Dylan reaches out to shake it.

"Dylan. Dylan Hunt. You?"

[spideys]

"Hey - yeah, exactly. Like, would it kill them to ask for permission?"

Peter looks pretty harmless, just a regular 21st century teenager with his hipster glasses, floppy hair and incredibly worn-in Converse sneakers. Hardly the masterminding type to go pulling people onto spaceships for the hell of it.

Just your friendly neighbourhood ... kid.

"Peter Parker," he responds. "Sorry we've gotta meet under these circumstances, I guess."

[dreams_dont_die]

"The Andromeda's there to serve."

Dylan is all about being there for people when they ask if they have a good reason to need him. He's High Guard. And trying to juggle the competing demands of a growing coalition of charter signatories on a single cruiser. But he tries.

It just doesn't make any sense. Dylan and this kid and a collection of other people. That makes it seem like it's something that doesn't have a lot to do with Dylan himself.

There are plenty of people out there who have it in for him, because he's upset them or because they don't want a new Commonwealth to stalibize the Known Worlds. Some people feed off chaos and confusion, and he's trying to hold the line against them. That makes enemies.

But this kid could hardly have the same sort of enemies.

"I can think of better circumstances," he agrees. "So. Peter. This has been happening to a lot of people. Anyone know who's doing it?"

[spideys]

You'd be surprised, Captain Dylan Hunt.

They might not be the same epic race of aliens and monster-types, that sort of thing, but Peter's developing his own little crowd of ... people who would like to wipe him off the face of the planet like a smudge. He's still young, still a baby-superhero, but George Stacy's words still echo in his head.

'You're going to make a lot of enemies,' he'd said before he returned his mask to him. (The same mask that's tucked into the baggy pocket of his jacket.)

"Uh - yeah. People here have been passing the name 'Q' around. From what I've gathered, he's a guy who likes chaos and this isn't the first time he's done something like this either."

[dreams_dont_die]

"Chaos. Just what we all need a little more of. It'd be nice to meet some people out there doing things who value peace and order."

Then, maybe, it wouldn't be like trying to describe what slipsteam is like, following each individual thread a safe route to allegiance. Though the negotiating makes slipstream almost look easy

As if the Known Worlds weren't in enough chaos already. As if Dylan weren't fighting, one world at a time, one signatory at a time, one mission at a time, to claw back a sense of order from chaos.

The world he'd come out of the black hole to was a hard one, unforgiving, nobody to protect it from the abyss, and now when he should be out there, doing just that, he's here, at the hands of some unknown creature. It must be tesseracting people, but what sort of power would that take?

A hell of a lot to take him this far from his ship.

"Does anyone know where this Q is?"

[spideys]

Peter shakes his head.

"Nnnope. I'm guessing he's the kinda guy who likes to pop up every now and then to remind people he exists by being a jerk, and then watch the reactions from a safe distance."

Just a hunch.

"But he's from a planet of people called the Q, which doesn't help, like, at all. How do they call him up if they've got a guy called Q from the Q? Do they all go by 'Q'? Weird, right?"

[dreams_dont_die]

"There are way too many people like that in the world," Dylan says, a hand running along the line of his jaw in lieu of a more obvious outlet for his irritation. He knows that from experience. Some people will do anything just to watch the havoc it creates, and for a guy trying to pull together an alliance in time to rebuild the Commonwealth soon enough to be able to save the Known Worlds from the Magog World Ship, there's no reason to have any patience with them.

It's only the fact that it's Peter Parker he's talking to and not this Q himself that stops him showing far more annoyance than he is.

"I've never heard of the Q. Or anyone called Q." Peter's right, though; it's kind of confusing. "How is he doing this, it must take a hell of a lot of power."

[spideys]

"This kind of thing is a little out of my area of expertise," Peter admits.

Hell, this is the first time he's ever been to space - and admittedly, so far it's not really living up to his boyhood fantasies. Being stuck (both on a spaceship and in that anchored area of space) doesn't help.

"If he ... was part of a crazy experiment gone wrong, mutations and that sorta thing, I might have more to say. But hey, I agree there are way too many people like Q in the world. Even a world as puny as mine.

"It's comforting to know that chaos-mongerers are a universal thing."

This last bit is said incredibly flatly.

[dreams_dont_die]

"Mine too," Dylan admits. "I'm just a soldier."

Certainly a soldier who's had more than the normal share of strange things happen to him. A soldier who's been back in time, forward in time, trapped in time, tesseracted around his ship,

"But," he says, with a doubtful glance at the ceiling as though this would reveal Q and his purposes, "I meet a lot of people and I've never met anyone who could do something like this."

There were over a million worlds in the Commonwealth, and worlds and races outside it, but he doesn't know these Q. Of course, with a million worlds, he can't know all of them, even with the Commonwealth history he's been studying in his mission. But he can check what High Guard intelligence knew.

It only takes a moment; he twists his left arm so that he can see the touchscreen on his bracer, and with a few expert flicks of his finger, taps his way through a menu to search ... and comes up with nothing.

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

His hands drop as Peter goes on talking, giving an indication of what might be his area of expertise that makes Dylan's eyebrows inch upwards in curiosity.

"You sound like you've got some experience with them."

[spideys]

"Uh - yeah ..."

Pete's about to say something about his knowledge in things like mutation and genetics, maybe mention something about how he's in school for it and back it up with a humble kind of remark because oversharing (and oversharing proudly) isn't something he's too comfortable with.

But that train of thought is interrupted by the cool gadget strapped to the captain's arm.

He juts his chin towards it, his interest piqued, but he isn't going to go so far as to point to it with his hands.

"A personal encyclopedia?"

It's an invitation to tell him more.

He wants to know more, Dylan.

[dreams_dont_die]

When Dylan looks up from the screen on his bracer, he lifts his eyebrows.

Apparently Peter's not used to High Guard technology. Mind you, not that many people are, these days. There was a time when every High Guard field officer or commander wore these, when they were the backbone of any Argosy Special Ops team. Back in the might of the High Guard.

"Argosy intelligence. Issued to High Guard officers back in the day when there were High Guard officers other than me."

He glances down at it and presses a few more buttons before holding his arm out, han flexed back to show his wrist, the smooth leathery surface of the bracers looking just like a softly coloured old style Earth piece of armor, but so much more.

"But Argosy intel's got nothing on this."

[spideys]

The truth of the matter is that Peter's never seen High Guard technology. He isn't even sure what 'High Guard' means, can only speculate that it's some higher order of ... guarding things.

It's intriguing, nevertheless, especially for a young man who makes use of bracers, himself. A different kind with a different purpose, but ... well, gadgets are kind of a geeky past time.

(The latest of his past time? He's been developing little tracking devices, and they're shaped like spiders.)

He leans forward, readjusting his glasses.

"Can I touch it?"

[dreams_dont_die]

Dylan twists his arm a little more, offering out the little screen that holds the controls that manage all the capabilities of this particular piece of High Guard tech.

"Go ahead. But it won't respond to you. It's locked to me. Security feature. But it's safe." His lips curve, a little, but the smile's more grim than amused.

"Just don't go for my force lance."

It's not that he thinks Peter will. Or could. But it's a fair warning. Anybody not Dylan who tries to take his weapon will have a hell of a surprise in store.

[spideys]

Momentarily preoccupied, Peter doesn't register Dylan's remark about a 'force lance' (also something he's got no idea about but can speculate) and reaches over to better inspect the device on his arm.

He lightly taps it, expecting no response from his touch and unsurprised when nothing happens.

Then he leans back again, ever in a slightly slouched position as though he isn't sure how to handle his body sometimes.

"You - You've got a lot of tech I've never heard of," he says, sounding impressed and still very much interested. "I'm afraid I don't know what 'Argosy intelligence' is, or a force lance either. But it -" He makes a slightly bobbed gesture towards his bracer again "- is definitely advanced tech. Nothing like I've ever seen back home, not even the most advanced stuff we've got."

[dreams_dont_die]

He lets Peter tap the screen, and, of course, it doesn't do anything. There wouldn't be much use in Argosy giving their officers and operatives classified databases of information to carry with them if anyone could use them. So, like the lance, it's coded to the user.

But not being a weapon, it's just unresponsive to the wrong person, not actually dangerous.

Dylan's smile is wistful at the edges as his hands drop back to his sides.

"The High Guard equipped us with the best of the best. There's a reason people still want our tech three hundred years later."

If he never has to deal with one more person trying to steal his ship out from under him, it'll be too soon. Even if the salvage attempt by the Eureka Maru turned out for the best in the end.

"Never heard of the Argosy? Spacefaring branch of the High Guard?"

It still hurts that the things that had been his life mean so little. Normally, though, people at least have heard of some of it.

"Or one of these?"

He takes a step back, left hand held up, palm-out in a conciliatory gesture as he slips the lance out of its holster, spinning it in his hand with a flick of his fingers before he holds it up for Peter to see.

[spideys]

Peter presses his lips together and shakes his head, almost apologetic, as though he should know about the High Guard and Argosy and the weapon in the good captain's hand - which he's willing to bet is the 'force lance' he'd mentioned earlier.

"Nno," he says. "No, I've never heard of any of those things. But then again, this is also my first time in a spaceship. Regular civilian space travel isn't exactly a thing yet."

He cocks his head, focusing on the lance in Dylan's hand now.

"I'm guessing that weapon can do a lot of damage, huh?"

[dreams_dont_die]

Dylan's eyes narrow.

That's not right.

"I should have asked. Where are you from?"

Of course, there are planets out there where space travel doesn't happen yet. And in those places, probably nobody's heard of the Argosy and the High Guard and force lances. But those are things known across the rest of the Known Worlds. But on those worlds, perhaps not. That would depend on their contact with their neighboring worlds. With the Commonwealth, before its fall.

"Yeah," he says, his voice bearing no trace of boasting or arrogance. He simply knows. "They're very popular on the black market now that the High Guard isn't around anymore." Now, there's just a suggestion of a grimly satisfied smile on his lips. "But a thug can do nothing with one compared to a High Guard officer."

And when it comes to that training, Dylan, Rommie, and the home guard on Tarazed are the only people left who can really use them like they should be used.

[spideys]

"Probably really far from your time," Peter says, looking from Dylan's force lance back to him.

Even the man's clothes are different. There's a futuristic-ness to them that kind of fits itself neatly into Peter's exposure to science-fiction.

The advanced tech, though, that's totally different.

He wishes he could tinker around with it, but he doubts asking the captain if he could borrow his weapon and intel device to take apart (and put back together, obviously!) will go over very well.

"New York City, New York, Earth. In - uh, the year 2012."

[dreams_dont_die]

Those are not good words.

He's had enough of far from your time for a lifetime. For the whole 343 years of his lifetime, including the ones he didn't notice passing him by.

"Far from my time," he says, echoing Peter's words.

Yeah. Far from his time is about right. Far, far further than the 303 years he'd thought were more than far enough.

"You could say that," he says, dropping his hand to shove the lance back into its holster. "Like about 3000 years."

[spideys]

That makes Peter sit up, jolted as though he'd just been electrocuted.

And any other thought is mostly cleared out by the sheer consideration of distance in time between him and Captain Hunt.

C r a z y.

"What? You - you serious?"

[dreams_dont_die]

"I've learned just how serious temporal displacement is."

A long eighteen months ago.

"So yeah. I'm serious. Before I found myself here it was Commonwealth Year 10088. Which in Earth time is ..." He hesitates, making a mental calculation, because for a man from Tarn-Vedra, Earth reckoning was never his first way of dating. "5168."

He shakes his head.

"And you'd never have heard of my homeworld."

[spideys]

"That's insane," is the first thing that comes out of Peter's mouth before he can stop it.

Because - what the hell.

Talk about science-fiction come to life; Peter can't even imagine what life would be like 3,156 years later, but he imagines sticking around Dylan will enlighten him to some degree.

"Wow, that - that makes me feel like I'm living in the stone-age or something. All our tech must be really primitive.

"A-a lot could change in 3,000 plus years."

To put it lightly.

[dreams_dont_die]

He's used to hearing people say that he -- or his story -- is insane, but this isn't his particular story that's in question. It's him being here, in this place. It's this place, these people. And this dwarfs even 303 years spent trapped on the edge of a black hole.

"A lot can change in just a few moments," he says, his tone verging on bitterness, because that 303 years seemed to pass in just that, moments, and those moments stole his life and everything he'd known. Civilization fell in those moments, chaos took over, his homeworld and all its culture and history vanished.

And that was in just a couple of those hundreds of years.

He shakes his head.

"I gotta say, I'm not even sure what your world would be like. My Earth history isn't that great." Earth, of course, has a connection to all humans, as their original home, but Dylan's always felt a greater affinity for his own home and the Commonwealth it stood for.

[spideys]

"Earth history."

Peter shakes his head, disbelieving, and still in awe. The fact that there's an 'Earth history', something that isn't specified into 'US history' or 'Chinese history' ... well, that's something. Because that means his planet as a whole has to have had some distance in time before every country could be lumped into one singular noun: 'Earth'.

"Man, you're not kidding about that."

He's not even sure what 'that' really implies. The year 5168? The fact that a lot can change in 3,000 years plus? Or that it could change in even a few moments?

"Well, my world's - it's somethin'."

[dreams_dont_die]

"Earth history," Dylan confirms. "Earth joined the Commonwealth and its people spread out across the Known Worlds. Including my ancestors."

It's a good thing Peter doesn't know what Dylan does know about the history of Earth in times more recent to Dylan's understanding. About humanity spreading out from its homeworld and leaving it an ancestral homeworld with little significance to many of its descendants, Dylan included. About the enslavement by the Drago-Kazov after the Fall, and the Magog attacks, and the poverty and hopelessness that gave Harper his lousy immune system and his hatred of Nietszscheans.

About the revolution Harper helped start and Dylan couldn't finish.

"Yeah," he agrees, his voice quiet and, for a moment, his eyes suddenly distant as his thoughts go thousands of years and millions of light-years away. To Tarn-Vedra, the one, unaccountable loss when he'd woken. "So was mine."

His world, and the Vedrans, and the line they should have been able to help hold in the face of the war that destroyed civilization. But they were gone. The slipstream route vanished, and with it, the symbol of all Dylan once knew and loved. Would the world he'd founds after Hephaistos be any easier to handle knowing his home were there, somewhere?

Maybe not. But its loss still aches as deep as any other. If even Harper can love the hellhole that Earth is in his time, then a son of Tarn-Vedra can mourn its loss even more keenly.