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ten_fwd_ooc2014-06-22 06:24 pm
tenforward_m) wrote in ten_fwd_ooc2014-06-22 06:24 pm
Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE #3 - Alien Bazaar/Ten Forward
#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.
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.
no subject
"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?"
no subject
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."
no subject
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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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?"
no subject
"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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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.
no subject
"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?"
no subject
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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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."
no subject
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?"
no subject
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."
no subject
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.
no subject
"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.
no subject
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'."
no subject
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.
no subject
Peter glances at him for a moment, then runs a hand through his mess of brown hair, stalling for something to say. Something comforting, maybe; or something to give him an idea of whether or not it's cool to keep talking about home-worlds without it becoming awkward or uncomfortable.
"Well, I guess it's kinda cool knowing that people managed to advance space travel to the point of inhabiting what sounds like a lot of new planets."
no subject
"But by my time, humans have spread out across three galaxies, to hundreds of thousands of worlds." Including the tiny minority population in their quarter of Vishna-Tarn that had been Dylan's people growing up.
"I'm not even sure when my ancestors left Earth, but it was a long time ago."
no subject
Peter can't help but look at Dylan again, this time with a slightly different perspective.
"Hey, uh - about the human species. It's - it's not possible for us to remain exactly the same, having the same kind of genetic make-up, when there are so many different types of uh - new environments to adapt to. You must be a totally different type of human than I am, huh?
"Aliens and humans ... they must have -" He shrugs, intentionally choosing not to finish the sentence because talking about intercrossing species, his species, is kind of a weird topic to get into.
no subject
"Yeah. The aliens and humans, that ... maybe not quite so much. I mean, it happens." Of course it does.
"But humans have had to adapt to different environments. Mostly through genetic engineering. Most of the human race has been enhanced in one way or another, even if it's just their immune systems. But there are a lot of planets out there that aren't much like Earth. There are subgroups of altered humans who can breathe underwater or can survive the environments on volcanic worlds. There's even a whole subspecies genetically engineered and bred to be perfect."
For a given value of perfection, of course. For all they like to go on about physical perfection, he personally thinks a lot of Nietzscheans have a hell of a long way to go before they're actually perfect. But since imperfection is part of being human, he's okay with that.
He shrugs.
"And there are people who have the muscle mass to survive on worlds with gravity much higher than Earth's. And that would be me."
no subject
Huh. Yeah, Peter figured as much but it's weird to actually hear that it exists. That human beings adapting to environments - those with the ability to breathe underwater, or withstand severe temperatures feels like science-fiction, but his own story isn't so far off the mark. After all, he is the first human being to survive a radioactive spider-bite and still be just him, not a Lizard, not an actual spider, but just Peter Parker ... with advanced strength, agility, and healing. (Among other things.)
"And is that a natural part of you? Or was that sort of ... engineered into you?"
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