Beer was quick in coming, albeit not from any of Cain's new companions - rather, the older fellow at the bar wanted to extend his greetings. Cain raised his glass in a toast to the guy, but had to wait for a taste when T'risa smiled at him.

"Oh, don't worry - things will soon get challenging now you have me around, they usually do. But sure, here's to new friends."

And now he did take a large drink from his tumbler, and gasped with enjoyment.
"That'll take the edges off," he said, mostly to himself, before looking back at T'risa. "In less than 12 hours? That's impressive. I'll be ready when you are, in any case."

He went back to his beer, which was certainly taking the edges off. Cain wasn't drunk but he was nursing the early stages of a hangover, so it was good to stave it off with some hair of the dog, as they said. Adrenaline could also help in that regard, and one of the things that gave you a shot of adrenaline was seeing another old friend. Cain's eyebrows raised in welcome surprise, and he smiled warmly.

"Good Greetings to you too, Alex! It has been a long time. I take it the Institute did right by you?"

Obviously this was something of a strange conversation, even in a dive like this, and Cain knew he had better elaborate to his new friends.

"This is Alex. He and I go way back. Alex has a certain...mental fortitude, shall we say. If Balkiir can vouch for me, I can vouch for this guy. Take a seat, brother, and thanks but you go ahead and enjoy your food."

The small alien approaches the group around T'risa, accompanied by the man who sent the drinks.  The alien bows to T'risa, the violet of delight suffusing his face, "Pipiltin, Cuappetlatl-Ocelopetlatl, Ilhuicac-Yaotlahueliloque, Itzcuauhtli Mixtzin greets his old friend T'risa K'mahda, and thanks her for remembering him with fondness.  I present to you another old friend, Kendrick Johnson, who is also in need of interesting work."  Turning to his companion, "Kendrick, may I present," turning to T'risa, with a slight bow, "It is Marshall now, is it not?" and back to Kendrick, "Marshall T'risa K'mahda, an old friend, with whom I shared some interesting times..."  In an aside to T'risa, Mixtzin whispers, "Kendrick knows me as 'Bruce'"

His skin changing again to the emerald green of contentment, Mixtzin turns and bows to the other members of what is fast turning into a party, "Pipiltin, Cuappetlatl-Ocelopetlatl, Ilhuicac-Yaotlahueliloque, Itzcuauhtli Mixtzin offers his greetings to those of you he has not yet had the pleasure of meeting, until this propitious moment," raising his beaker in a toast, "and may our time together be full of the joys that only lives such as ours can know."  He drinks, "Please call me Mixtli..., or Bruce if you prefer." with a flicker of amusement, and then addresses T'risa, "T'risa, would you be so kind as to introduce me to your friends?"

All the while, the alien's forked tongue has been flickering in and out, as he tastes the air around him.

T'risa greeted the Quetzl with enthusiasm "Well, interesting work is something we have plenty of. In fact, it's the reason I invited you here. I thought we might need someone with your talents. I'm uh...well, my job title is Colonial Marshal, I got promoted to..." T'risa looked at her credentials "Uh...Major, but everyone should just call me T'risa unless we're trying to impress people."</Blue>

T'risa pointed to Balkiir at first <Purple>"This is Balkiir Koval, long time friend and co worker. He's a Valkiir heavy weapons specialist and as tough as I've seen any." she pointed to Elsbeth next  "Elsbeth, Colonial Marine, she's been kinda acting as a bodyguard for me as a while and I think this is the first time I've seen her outside battle dress in...a long time." she then pointed to Cain "Cain Betler, former fighter pilot and our designated pilot for when we get the new ship. One of Balkiirs friends and any friends of Balkiir's is one of mine too."

She turned to face the others "Everyone? Please meet Pipiltin, Cuappetlatl-Ocelopetlatl, Ilhuicac-Yaotlahueliloque, Itzcuauhtli Mixtzinm or as I know him, Mixtli...or as others know him Bruce. He's a Marine. Met him when I was part of Admiral J'nai's retinue and we've been keeping in touch on and off ever since." T'risa looked at the the rest of the group "but the rest of you, I'm afraid I don't know yet. Please introduce yourselves."

Following behind Mixtli he looks to his old friend once more..."Didn't know you went by Mixtli, I'll be sure to remember that"  he smiles at him then turns his attention towards T'risa after the introduction and gives the Colonial Marshal she deserves saluting her as he would back in his marine days.  "A pleasure to meet you ma'am, as chance would have it running into Bru...Mixtli tonight has brought with it a chance to speak with you.  I had overheard your group talking about the CASAR and was interested in learning more bout the work they are hiring for?" he says to her as he takes another sip from his glass.

"I figured I would see if there was any work locally, maybe even find a decent ship(1 ship share) to invest in..." he lets that last comment trail off taking another sip trying to gauge her response to his statements.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:52, Sat 12 Sept 2015.

The Tall man inclines his head respectfully to the lovely blue female. He smiles. Then with a slight hint of formality he introduces himself.

Major T'rissa I am Alehandes PushK'Hal, civilian, a recent student and humble worker, wanderer, and Finder of things. Though once I served as you have, I'm afraid PFC PushK'Hin has become far to accostomed to sleeping late and carousing to continue his warlike ways.

With exceptional grace the large man slips into a seat and lays his large plate of calamari. In everyone's reach while sliding his soda into a convenient space.
Please share, the dipping is delightful. he indicates with long open fingers.
Is this a private meeting for a new venture? I don't mean to interfere ...

He looks at the old man - a ship? I too have been seeking a new investment. (3 ship shares)

 With the new arrivals even the large, Valkiir sized booth has become a bit crowded, the owner hustles everyone back to the private room T'risa has requested and promises that if anyone else shows up he'll bring them right back.

the room is supplied with large comfortable chairs, a fully stocked Humidor, and a stocked wet bar.

This message was deleted by the player at 03:25, Fri 11 Sept 2015.

T'risa ushered the others into the private room "Let me answer everyones questions in our room." T'risa had a quiet word word with the bartender to keep the food and drink coming and to guide the late arrivals to the room. She looked at her PDA checking her messages before following the others into the room.

"Okay, I'm sure you all have a lot of questions. I am Colonial Marshal T'risa K'mahda and I might be what you could call a troubleshooter for CASAR. I've only been working for CASAR for four years, but in that time my team and I have been at the center of some...well... cataclysmic events. As a Colonial Marshal, I have broad powers to help me to resolve the issues at hand. I can recruit you all into CASAR for the duration of the current crisis.....and this system does have a crisis."

T'risa paused for a moment to let that sink in. "You probably all know there's a galactic war brewing. You probably believe it is with the Q'sa. It isn't, it's with an entity we know as She. I've been in direct psychic contact with her and I can tell you in her mind there is no compromise, she seeks nothing less than genocide. She's been playing the long game over millennia to gather what she needs to wipe everyone out. So far the only thing that put a dent in her plan was me and my team.... and she's scared of me and what we represent. She is smart and cunning at a level none can comprehend, but she has flaws. Her ploys take the same route...a ship missing, communications difficult with a colony here, an act of terrorism there. I've been working with both CASAR, the Imperial Fleet and the Alliance fleet extensively, there's nothing available to help us here. The simple fact is this. She is active in many different areas and the fleets are busy trying to protect those areas. My precog senses went off the charts when I was looking into things in this area...and that's why I'm here. I think whatever game she's playing in this sector, it's critical to her plans....and I am here to stop her." T'risa took a sip of her glass of wine to moisten her throat. "So.... to fully inform you, there's a strong possibility some of you won't make it home. I've been the subject of multiple assassination attempts, bombings and various other attempts to weaken me physically, financially and socially. Anyone joining my team is likely to face the same problems. Balkiir and Elsbeth can attest to exactly how often this happens....but I'm here to look for people to help make a difference. Our actions will save the lives of millions of sentients. Make no mistake She is out to kill us all and she already has most of the tools to be able to do it. What I need are people to help defeat her. Heroes.... and to put it simpler still, all of you."

T'risa paused to let the speech sink in on everyone's consciousness before the intoxicants started flowing "If you're still in, let me know and I'll deputise you. There will be no repercussions if you choose to leave....and if you have any questions, please ask now. There won't be any easy way for us to pause and let you off if it turns out not to be to your liking."

Upon entering the private room he stands there listening intently to T'risa and what she has to say.  He thinks about his career up until this point and where he is going, and while he's done a lot of good work over the years, never was there a time that something truly heroic took place.  This was his one regret more then anything.  Considering his options once she has finished her speech he says aloud.  "I'm in."

With that he wastes no time eying up the humidor and walking over to see what sort of selection they have available.  You can see the smile broaden as retrieves a high-end cigar from its case.   He picks up a nearby cigar cutter gently removing the end of it.  Seeing a bowl of matches picks one and up strikes it against his thumbnail, an old trick he learned years ago from CO, he places the cigar between his lips carefully puffs on it as he brings the match to the end of it.

Shaking the match until it dies he takes a long drag "Now that's a good cigar..." he says aloud to himself blowing out a puff of smoke into the air which disappears quickly into a ceiling vent...he walks over to one of the nearby chairs sitting down and kicking up a leg on his knee before commenting towards Mixtli..."Bruce you really should have one of these, especially if your going to get in on this deal" his casualness with his old friend starting to show as he lets out another puff then takes another sip of his bourbon emptying this glass.

It's at that moment he get back up and decides to check the wet bar hoping to find another bottle of bourbon...fully stocked indeed! as he holds up the bottle and starts to set out some glasses.  "would anyone else like a drink?" he says to the group as he pours himself another, likely his last of the evening since getting drunk was not on the agenda.  While he certainly has the endurance to hold his liquor he's not one to tempt fate in this regard, especially when it seemed that there was much to be discussed between himself and Colonial Marshal.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:33, Fri 11 Sept 2015.

Well candidate Kalaperna, how would you proceed? Well sir, after the bombing has been completed…

This pub looked like that kind of place. In her younger days, she had chivved her share of spacers out of worse places. This time there was no shore patrol to back her up though.

Her sense of military correctness urged her to hurry, even though she was in no particular rush. With some reluctance, she stepped into the bar. Of medium height and with severely braided grey hair, she wouldn’t stand out in a place like this. The ramrod straight posture with which she held herself, and the aura of command she projected, were a little more distinguishing. She wasn’t wearing a uniform but her black and silver dress suit was vaguely military in cut. It felt wrong.

A barman of some sort took one look at her and hurried across the room to her.

“They are in the back room, I am supposed to take you back.”

“Very well,” she replied crisply, following the ill favored looking man. She shouldn’t be doing this, there was a war to be fought and it was up there in space, not skulking around in taverns. No she couldn’t think like that, this was the same war and if she didn’t like the way it had to be fought then she would just have to put on the armored suit like the rest of them.

The barman lead her to a sturdy door, he knocked and stepped away. When it opened she stepped through without hesitating. The hum of conversation quieted. She was immediately surprised by several familiar faces but  kept the surprise from her features. What in the Letter of the Regulations was Push’kal doing here? Or Winters, or … Smythe was it?

Turning she pushed the door shut before giving her full attention to the woman at the center of the little gathering, her identity obvious from the briefing.

“Marshal K’mhada,” she began with a polite inclination of her head.

“I am Nera Kalaperna, I believe you were expecting me.”

Alejades is standing almost immediately upon seeing his former commander cross the threshold. He moves in one fluid motion so quickly that he almost seems to instantly shift to a posture not unlike attention. Fortunately for decorum he does not call the room. He does watch for the standard and appropriate wave down whereby officers instinctively wave off military courtesies when they are not required.

When he relaxes after nodding to CAPT Kaliperna he looks to the Marshall.

Ma'am, if I may presume on a moment. I'm shocked to be in such company for such an important mission. Of course we both understand the scarcity of accident in the synchronicity of coincidence. But several items seem to confuse me. For one - you say 'She' is supremely intelligent, more than us ... And 'She' is bent on Genocide ... Genocide of whome and why?

Has 'She' been harmed by terraforming? Has 'She' some existential need? It just seems to me that Genocide of any species is not efficient or profitable. I'm wondering if perhaps 'She' showed you this to manipulate you to act in some way or to be afraid.

Another question I have: Is this an official and endorsed mission? Is it funded and would participants be combined into a task force? If not, why? I'm particularly curious about the opinions of your high command.

Thank you, Ma'am please call me Alex

" SHE, is bugnuts crazy." Balkiir commented as he fetched a drink and plate of snacks offering some to Elseth as he listened." we're talking Meglomania, Psychosis, and a real honest to god, GOD.. GODDESS complex."

It was getting kinda crowded at the booth, but thankfully the barman had the sense to guide everyone into a private room before they drew even more attention. Cain was all smiles as he entered, beer in hand, and took a seat. There were so many faces here, but...hold on...some of them were starting to look awful familiar, besides Balkiir and Alex.

But that would have to wait. Now that they were all gathered in privacy T'risa...sorry, Colonial Marshal T'risa...gave them the low-down. It was some pretty deep shit. For all that, Cain didn't need more time to think about it. He followed the old guy's lead.

"I'm in too. Bad things seem to happen to me all the time and this doesn't sound much different, so what's the worst that could happen?"

With a grin Cain stood up and walked over to the wet bar where the grey-haired dude was.

"I'll join you. Make it a large one."

While the fellow poured the drinks Cain helped himself to an identical fine cigar from the humidor, and went through the same process before taking a deep puff and blowing smoke high into the air. He smiled and took his drink and from it a large swig, before setting the glass down and offering his hand to shake.

"Kendrick, wasn't it? Cain Betler, pleasure to meet you. Some real nice stuff they have here, huh?" He waved his cigar around and nodded to the tumbler of bourbon.

T'risa greeted the new arrival with a broad smile "Nera Kalaperna...of course. I checked my PDA to see if there'd been any messages. when I didn't see anything, I'd assumed you'd chosen not to accept the invitation. It's good to see you." T'risa held up a hand. "Now as to answer your other questions. CASAR knows I'm here and I have broad operating powers. They'll sanction anything I do. We do have a budget, but more than that I have a significant amount of personal finances to get us what we need. When, and if, you choose to be deputised you'll be an official CASAR employee, although it'll take time for id cards and gear to get here."

T'risa looked around the room, her eyes drawn and intense "She sees us as an existential threat. I have been inside her mind. There is no compromise with her. There is no independance, no free spirit. You bow to her will or are destroyed with little thought or concern. She sees us as a threat because we are free thinkers and we dare defy her wish. It's true... genocide perhaps isn't the right choice of word to describe her desire, but that's because there is no word to describe the slaughter in her mind. She's not aiming to crush a single species, she's aiming to crush them all, with the possible exception of the Q'sa who serve her. Her plans are more advanced than any might consider. You might wish to consider this. She sees herself as the only sentient worthy of life and she's been alive for longer than most species have existed. When she entered my mind it was inconceivable to her that I would not just accept her as my ruler. She's been alone and I think that turned her crazy when I popped out of nowhere and could actually fight her will."

On his way to the private room Mixtzin orders a selection of Quetzl foods and a large flask of the finest M'poc, to be shared amongst the group.  "Kendrick, maybe I'll try one after I've eaten, I do not wish to pollute my palate for the delicacies we are about to be served."  He takes a seat, making him seem even smaller in the over-sized furniture.  When the flask of M'poc arrives he holds it on high, "Who would like to try this delightful drink...?  I must warn you that non-Quetzl often find it highly intoxicating, but it is the perfect accompaniment to the dishes that will soon be served," and pours a measure for himself.

As T'risa lays out the situation, Mixtzin's skin chages to the deep indigo of interest, his ruff of feathers flickering from time to time.  His mane seems a little more full as a result of what he has heard.  His response of, "Count me in." comes at the same time as Kendrick's "I'm in."  Rising from his chair he moves to Kendrick and Cain.  With a slight bow, "Pipiltin, Cuappetlatl-Ocelopetlatl, Ilhuicac-Yaotlahueliloque, Itzcuauhtli Mixtzin offers his greetings to the friend of Kendrick.  Please call me Mixtli, or, as my old friend does... Bruce..." and holding out the flask, repeats his offer of M'poc.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:32, Fri 11 Sept 2015.

Lynn had looked up and seen Cain, wondering why he looked so familiar. She'd stood up to go find out and gotten swept into the room with all these people. Of course, it was then that her memory had unfogged and she'd at least remembered a first name. Cain. And if she was right, he was an ex. She tried to remember if it was one of those good separation or bad, and then she remembered, she'd shipped off without a word. Well, maybe he'd not remember...

And of course, it was starting to look like old home week.

"Nera?" she blinked in surprise.

And then the discussion really hit her. what the heck were they talking about?

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow your barrel roll. An insane Goddess bent on universal genocide? And you're going to get one small bunch of people together to try and go all rebel forces on her?"

She blinked again, then leaned on the table with a crazy smile.

"You need a mechanic?"

"Hello Lynn," his face suffused with violet, "it is a delight to see you again," and with a bow, "Pipiltin, Cuappetlatl-Ocelopetlatl, Ilhuicac-Yaotlahueliloque, Itzcuauhtli Mixtzin offers his greetings to his friend Lynn Winters." Mixtzin offers her a beaker of M'poc.  "You make some good points, but someone must do the dirty work..."

T'risa PDA woke up with an alarm from one of Kronos' more recent releases. T'risa looked at the screen for a moment before placing it on the ground. She smirked at Lynn as she set it to activate the hologram function. "What we need are heroes more than mechanics, but if you're willing to sing on, we're more than happy to have you." before she addressed the rest of the room "My aide has uncovered some ships for sale in the local area. These are the selections he's found available and within our budget."

T'risa let the hologram wake up and fill the central area with the schemtics and designs of the ships her broker had found. "So...our first decision as a group. Which ship to buy."

OOC: The GM is going to post which ships are good for us in another thread

The tall man listens nodding as if to the beat of a dance groove as he watches the group with wonder, fascination, and the amusement of one who fell upon an adventure tale just when there was nothing better going on. He wonders how they can jump into their commitments with so little information especially that life is so short for them. The enthusiasm is astonishing in the Greek sense of the word these people are filled with spirit.

Well, I am indeed very much honored to join with your heroes and trust my service will be satisfactory. May Those Who Came Before pass to us Their strength and send victory with understanding.

... I shall make arrangements for secondment with personnel.

He makes no drama with his short invocation but adjusts his posture stepping back relaxing with his drink and a few dips of squid while watching to ensure others may communicate and see without barrier.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:04, Sat 12 Sept 2015.

smiles nods to Cain as well "Nice to meet you as well, call me Rick.  Indeed the quality of all this will certainly go to my head if I ain't careful"  he says while puffing on his cigar some more.

Making his way back to his seat he relaxes once more content with goodies but still struggling with his somewhat rash decision to join this group.  It wasn't like him but then again neither was this calamity of epic proportions a normal situation.  He considers that since he has no family of his own that there really wasn't much to loose but his life, and that has always been on the ante plate since started out in the marines two decades ago.  Looking on the bright side there is always the chance he lives...

He turns his head to T'risa as she mentions looking for a ship to purchase.  "please if you would consider my offer to invest in your ship?  Even though this seems an awful lot like a one way trip to hell theres always we'll make it back." he says giving her smile and a wink.

Nera shook hans with T'risa and then took her seat for the remainder of the presentation. She exchanged professional nods with those with whom she was acquainted. Alot of old faces here, it seemed.

When T'risa completed her presentation. Nera cleared her throat, earning herself a moments silence.

"If any of you are on the fence about this you may infer from my presence here that the TAEN is not disinterested in this situation." It wasn't offically interested either, that is why Nera and her new group was here to do. Run down intel and solve problems before they became officially intesting. Battle group with guns blazing interested.

"CASAR is taking the lead on this, but I will be providing additional logistical and tactical support."

Walking into the bar, looking rather tired and hurried is this hybrid between a Cesti and a Human looking individual with the head of a lion and a tail.   His mane is a russet yellow w/ golden hued highlights.   Clearly male he is wearing some high tech tinted glasses so you can't tell the color of his eyes.   Wearing an old fashioned bomber jacket with a decal of the FLYING TIGERS on the back, a black double breasted t-shirt over obvious other armored clothing, camouflage style crew pocketed pants and black combat boots.   Walking like he has had some military training, he strolls up to the bar and asked the barkeep, where he could find a Major T'risa Kahmada?

Once directed to where she is, he will walk of to her and introduce himself as TAL ATVAR.   Then he will go with her to the presentation.

OOC: (Both the introduction and description of walking into the pub were before the presentation of the mission.)
This message was last edited by the player at 19:43, Sat 12 Sept 2015.

Upon entering the room Tal took a seat and listened intently as the Colonel Marshal spoke about the real war, he couldn't help but think of his accident in the Navy, even though he was found ultimately not responsible, he still felt responsible, enough to leave the service.   Even though it happened on his watch and nothing had been going wrong just prior to the accident, he wondered if SHEhad caused it.   It also brought to mind the disaster he just recently encountered, could SHE have caused this too.   Since Tal didn't like airing any type of laundry, dirty or otherwise, in public, he meant to asked the Colonel in private.   When she had finished the presentation he quietly gave his accent to join the endeavor after standing up and after the next vocalization by another member of the group member.   He motioned the Colonel over for a talk as the group started filing out of the room.   Once he has the blue tinted woman attention in private.

This message was last updated by the player at 19:42, Sat 12 Sept 2015.

T'risa talked in the corner with Tal, while the others started to drink and talk amongst themselves.

In reply to T'risa K'mahda (msg # 46):

In reply to T'risa, Tal says, "Thanks for the information, the court inquiry ultimately found that the engine room had been sabotaged somehow.   They are still looking into it I'm sure, even now after four and a half years since I was in the navy."   Tal after talking with the Colonel about his past will go back to the group as a whole and get acquinted.   Eating the various foods but the alcoholic drinks, he abstained from, not from any sense of prohibitaton just that he really couldn't hold his alcohol.

When the gathering whined down Tal said, "I got to pick up most of my gear from a local storage place and will need a lift to wherever ship or base we are going to use for this operation.   Weapons, Tools, Survival gear and laptop computer."   He will respond when asked about specifics.   "Most of the other stuff came with me on my way here from jail."   When asked about his jail time, he'll say, "It's a long story involving Sal, meaning the Mook and something else.   We can talk about it later."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:43, Mon 14 Sept 2015.