50,379 / 50,000 (w00t!)
Chapter 28: The bartender of the Damned.
WOOT! I made IT!!!!! (And I'm not even done yet! I still have to get them back!)
Robert looked at Shannon again. "And how do you know this person?" Shannon chuckled. "Oh that's easy. He is the Master potions maker on the planet." Jackson coughed. "Nay, lass. The Galaxy. The Tigereans send their people to me when they want to learn stuff." Shannon nodded. "I stand corrected, then. While my talent with potions is not very good, I did learn a few things on how to make them, and what they can do, even to mundanes. In any case, Mr. Miles is famous among the magi for his background and being the only person to survive with this particular curse for this long." Jackson nodded. "Indeed. Most people hit with this fall apart after a decade. Their body just decays and falls apart. There were times I wish that the same thing would happen to me, but it never has. But enough 'o me. You, ursine, I hear you are the wellspring responsible for ending the war. In your own way, you are as famous as me. What d'ya think 'bout that?"
Robert shook his head. "I'm just... me. I don't want to be famous or any nonsense like that. I don't even think I'm a hero. The credit goes to the dead, if anything. They provided the distraction for the hive-mind to allow us to destroy it without interference, but even then we still came under attack for a few minutes. All I did was enable the magi to do what they need to do."
"And THAT's why you are famous and a hero, laddie. You have the ability to enable a mage to do great things. Do you know how many people are capable of what Shannon can do when she's at full power and drawing from you?" Robert shook his head. "No one. Not even the Trinity is that powerful, and they are singularly among the most powerful mages ever to walk the planet, even more powerful then the one who gifted me with this semblance of a life. All Tigra did when you fired that plasma lance was to make sure the framework stayed intact. All that power and energy flowed through you and her. It must have been one helluva ride." Shannon blushed beet red, and Robert began to get angry. "How did you know that?" Jackson laughed. "I have True Sight, and I have access to the same feeds that James and Bear have. They are regulars at the bar, you know. Oh, don't worry, no one else will know. And some things I've seen you don't want to know, which brings us back to why I'm here." He made a motion at the flasks. "This potion can only be crafted by about 30 people, and I taught all of them. Considering I created this potion, Bear thought it best to get the stuff from the Master Himself this time. My pupil was very good, and it saddens me that he met an untimely fate. But then, War plays no favorites as you both well know."
The door knocked twice, and then opened to admit the veiled human. "He's sleeping. I've managed to remove the memory of what he has seen in the cafeteria, but he's very broken up about the loss of his squad, regardless of their heroics. He won't be fit for duty for a while, I think." She took the flasks which Miles had picked up and handed to her. " Hello Jackson. Hows the bones holding togather?" "Same as always lassie, although the knee is still a bit loose from when the kegs fell over on me a month ago. I think I might need to pop it loose and put it back on at some point." She nodded. "As long as you do it when I'm not around. I'm still grossed out from the last time you did something like that." Jackson smiled. "Oh come on. That hand didn't do anything to you. At least you were kind enough to give it back when I asked for it." She made a frustrated twirling motion and left. Tigra got up and closed the door after her." I do wish you two would stop bickering every time you meet." Jackson shrugged. "Not my fault. She knew what I was when we were dating, and I told her about my abilities when she first asked me out." Shannon found herself staring at Jackson, while Robert started to chuckle. Shannon slugged him. "Robert! That's not funny!" Jackson smiled and turned to her. "Really? I think it hilarious myself. 'course people get squicked out when you pop an eyeball out and toss it in a glass of water. It's the only way I can keep the bloody things clean anymore!"
They talked for a bit longer, then Jackson closed his case and gave leave of them. "Swing by before ye leave for yer ship. I've got some deep space kegs that I can fill with that mead if ya want it, and it's on the house." Robert nodded, and Jackson left. Bear followed him out, stating that he would give him a ride back to the bar. James was the first to break the silence that followed. "Hard act to follow, that's for sure." Robert had a question, and decided to ask. "Why is he the Bartender of the Damned?" James started laughing, and Tigra gained an amused look on his face. "To make a very long story short, He was tending bar at an inn where several inquisitors from the Spanish inquisition were staying back in the 1400's. Like most bartenders, he was being helpful to everyone that came in the bar, in order to earn additional tips. He inadvertently gave the inquisitors information on the community's populations of mages and therianthropes. A day or two later after the shakedown, the local arch-mage came in as a last act of defiance, and cursed everyone in the room before blowing up the inn around him. No one knows why he still is around, or why his body does what it is doing. He's nearly as old as I am, just better preserved, I guess." Robert nodded. "I see." He stared at the floor for a long time afterward, until Shannon wrapped her arms around him. "What's wrong fuzzy?" Robert shrugged. "Nothing, I think. I'm just going over what he said. I guess he's right. I'm a hero, and a famous one at that." Tigra coughed, and both looked at him. "That's correct. I think it's time for the two of you to return to your ship. I'll have Bear transport the mead over tomorrow. Besides, I think Stromson wanted to see you in the wardroom that he is camping out in despite my direct order not to." He ended this with a smile. "Go on, you two, get out of here and enjoy the evening." With that they both left and returned to the ship.
Ch'Mee was waiting at the gate for them. "About time you two returned. Where's Ted?" Robert drew himself to attention. "Sir, Col. Jackson is not fit for duty at the moment. He is in the middle of a nervous breakdown, and is being treated at the castle." Ch'Mee sighed and shook his head. "Damn, He should be here. Oh well. I have been instructed to bring directly to Major General Stromson's temporary cabin. You two are very late." Shannon nodded. "Let's get going, then." The trip up to the wardroom was brief and silent. Ch'Mee saluted as he opened the door. "General, Majors Corlo and Ortiz are here." They heard Stromson's deep voice. "About fucking time. Get in here you two. Ch'Mee, head back to the gate, and find out when Jackson will be fit for duty again. Dismissed." Shannon and Robert were in the wardroom. The place was certainly untidy, between the table being used as a desk, the portable files with datapads and flimsies strewn about, and a dirty and dented terminal on the table that Sromson was working at. Robert and Shannon stood at attention until Stromson turned to meet their salute. "Sit down you two, and at ease. They took the only seats in the room, two chairs that looked like they had been swiped from one of the mess halls. Stromson turned back to the computer and finished typing into it. Finishing up, he turned the terminal off, and looked at the two officers in his office.
"Okay, you two. Tell me what the hell happened to Jackson. I've also got some other news for you as well, but I'd like to tell you with him present, if possible." Shannon related the events of the past three hours, and finished with, "Sir, I don't think he'll be fit for duty in a couple weeks. he's taking the loss of the squad quite hard." Stromson nodded sadly. "I can relate all too well. The Hillary is actually my second ship. I had my first shot out from under me in the first Interstellar war. Out of the 30 people that crewed that old wasp class destroyer, there were two that made it out alive. OK, he'll need a few weeks to pull himself togather. What I need from the two of you is tomorrow to continue working on the boarding deck. Although we've got air in there, we need to manually start moving some of the fighters around from their storage slots into position so that we can tap their plasma reactors for power in order to rebuild the airlock, as we are going to have to cut power to the boarding room's airlock system in order to pull the damaged module out and get a replacement one installed. Shannon, how is your crew looking for ability to move ships around in the repair bay?" Shannon thought for a second. "I've only got two at the moment. My other pilots are still too injured to be doing anything of the sort." Stromson nodded. "OK, between those two, you and Corlo, you should be able to get 11 fighters docked there. See if you can get it done by, say, 1300 tomorrow." Robert cut in. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but I'm assuming the extra fighter came from the Pacifica?" Stromson chuckled. "Affirmative. I've got Alpha squad running patrols in the morning, to you'll have their boarding room to start at." They nodded.
"For the Second part, and this is the part that I wished that Jackson was here for: The two of you will be required to be present at the awards ceremony in two weeks. You'll receive more details about that in a day. That's all for the formal part. Now for the informal part. You've talked to the potions master?" Shannon nodded. "You don't miss much, do you?" Stromson laughed. "Ch'Mee told me that he caught a glimpse of Miles leaving, and also was handed a note about a couple kegs coming on board. You *are* going to share, right?"
(1832/1667)
WOOT! I made IT!!!!! (And I'm not even done yet! I still have to get them back!)
Robert looked at Shannon again. "And how do you know this person?" Shannon chuckled. "Oh that's easy. He is the Master potions maker on the planet." Jackson coughed. "Nay, lass. The Galaxy. The Tigereans send their people to me when they want to learn stuff." Shannon nodded. "I stand corrected, then. While my talent with potions is not very good, I did learn a few things on how to make them, and what they can do, even to mundanes. In any case, Mr. Miles is famous among the magi for his background and being the only person to survive with this particular curse for this long." Jackson nodded. "Indeed. Most people hit with this fall apart after a decade. Their body just decays and falls apart. There were times I wish that the same thing would happen to me, but it never has. But enough 'o me. You, ursine, I hear you are the wellspring responsible for ending the war. In your own way, you are as famous as me. What d'ya think 'bout that?"
Robert shook his head. "I'm just... me. I don't want to be famous or any nonsense like that. I don't even think I'm a hero. The credit goes to the dead, if anything. They provided the distraction for the hive-mind to allow us to destroy it without interference, but even then we still came under attack for a few minutes. All I did was enable the magi to do what they need to do."
"And THAT's why you are famous and a hero, laddie. You have the ability to enable a mage to do great things. Do you know how many people are capable of what Shannon can do when she's at full power and drawing from you?" Robert shook his head. "No one. Not even the Trinity is that powerful, and they are singularly among the most powerful mages ever to walk the planet, even more powerful then the one who gifted me with this semblance of a life. All Tigra did when you fired that plasma lance was to make sure the framework stayed intact. All that power and energy flowed through you and her. It must have been one helluva ride." Shannon blushed beet red, and Robert began to get angry. "How did you know that?" Jackson laughed. "I have True Sight, and I have access to the same feeds that James and Bear have. They are regulars at the bar, you know. Oh, don't worry, no one else will know. And some things I've seen you don't want to know, which brings us back to why I'm here." He made a motion at the flasks. "This potion can only be crafted by about 30 people, and I taught all of them. Considering I created this potion, Bear thought it best to get the stuff from the Master Himself this time. My pupil was very good, and it saddens me that he met an untimely fate. But then, War plays no favorites as you both well know."
The door knocked twice, and then opened to admit the veiled human. "He's sleeping. I've managed to remove the memory of what he has seen in the cafeteria, but he's very broken up about the loss of his squad, regardless of their heroics. He won't be fit for duty for a while, I think." She took the flasks which Miles had picked up and handed to her. " Hello Jackson. Hows the bones holding togather?" "Same as always lassie, although the knee is still a bit loose from when the kegs fell over on me a month ago. I think I might need to pop it loose and put it back on at some point." She nodded. "As long as you do it when I'm not around. I'm still grossed out from the last time you did something like that." Jackson smiled. "Oh come on. That hand didn't do anything to you. At least you were kind enough to give it back when I asked for it." She made a frustrated twirling motion and left. Tigra got up and closed the door after her." I do wish you two would stop bickering every time you meet." Jackson shrugged. "Not my fault. She knew what I was when we were dating, and I told her about my abilities when she first asked me out." Shannon found herself staring at Jackson, while Robert started to chuckle. Shannon slugged him. "Robert! That's not funny!" Jackson smiled and turned to her. "Really? I think it hilarious myself. 'course people get squicked out when you pop an eyeball out and toss it in a glass of water. It's the only way I can keep the bloody things clean anymore!"
They talked for a bit longer, then Jackson closed his case and gave leave of them. "Swing by before ye leave for yer ship. I've got some deep space kegs that I can fill with that mead if ya want it, and it's on the house." Robert nodded, and Jackson left. Bear followed him out, stating that he would give him a ride back to the bar. James was the first to break the silence that followed. "Hard act to follow, that's for sure." Robert had a question, and decided to ask. "Why is he the Bartender of the Damned?" James started laughing, and Tigra gained an amused look on his face. "To make a very long story short, He was tending bar at an inn where several inquisitors from the Spanish inquisition were staying back in the 1400's. Like most bartenders, he was being helpful to everyone that came in the bar, in order to earn additional tips. He inadvertently gave the inquisitors information on the community's populations of mages and therianthropes. A day or two later after the shakedown, the local arch-mage came in as a last act of defiance, and cursed everyone in the room before blowing up the inn around him. No one knows why he still is around, or why his body does what it is doing. He's nearly as old as I am, just better preserved, I guess." Robert nodded. "I see." He stared at the floor for a long time afterward, until Shannon wrapped her arms around him. "What's wrong fuzzy?" Robert shrugged. "Nothing, I think. I'm just going over what he said. I guess he's right. I'm a hero, and a famous one at that." Tigra coughed, and both looked at him. "That's correct. I think it's time for the two of you to return to your ship. I'll have Bear transport the mead over tomorrow. Besides, I think Stromson wanted to see you in the wardroom that he is camping out in despite my direct order not to." He ended this with a smile. "Go on, you two, get out of here and enjoy the evening." With that they both left and returned to the ship.
Ch'Mee was waiting at the gate for them. "About time you two returned. Where's Ted?" Robert drew himself to attention. "Sir, Col. Jackson is not fit for duty at the moment. He is in the middle of a nervous breakdown, and is being treated at the castle." Ch'Mee sighed and shook his head. "Damn, He should be here. Oh well. I have been instructed to bring directly to Major General Stromson's temporary cabin. You two are very late." Shannon nodded. "Let's get going, then." The trip up to the wardroom was brief and silent. Ch'Mee saluted as he opened the door. "General, Majors Corlo and Ortiz are here." They heard Stromson's deep voice. "About fucking time. Get in here you two. Ch'Mee, head back to the gate, and find out when Jackson will be fit for duty again. Dismissed." Shannon and Robert were in the wardroom. The place was certainly untidy, between the table being used as a desk, the portable files with datapads and flimsies strewn about, and a dirty and dented terminal on the table that Sromson was working at. Robert and Shannon stood at attention until Stromson turned to meet their salute. "Sit down you two, and at ease. They took the only seats in the room, two chairs that looked like they had been swiped from one of the mess halls. Stromson turned back to the computer and finished typing into it. Finishing up, he turned the terminal off, and looked at the two officers in his office.
"Okay, you two. Tell me what the hell happened to Jackson. I've also got some other news for you as well, but I'd like to tell you with him present, if possible." Shannon related the events of the past three hours, and finished with, "Sir, I don't think he'll be fit for duty in a couple weeks. he's taking the loss of the squad quite hard." Stromson nodded sadly. "I can relate all too well. The Hillary is actually my second ship. I had my first shot out from under me in the first Interstellar war. Out of the 30 people that crewed that old wasp class destroyer, there were two that made it out alive. OK, he'll need a few weeks to pull himself togather. What I need from the two of you is tomorrow to continue working on the boarding deck. Although we've got air in there, we need to manually start moving some of the fighters around from their storage slots into position so that we can tap their plasma reactors for power in order to rebuild the airlock, as we are going to have to cut power to the boarding room's airlock system in order to pull the damaged module out and get a replacement one installed. Shannon, how is your crew looking for ability to move ships around in the repair bay?" Shannon thought for a second. "I've only got two at the moment. My other pilots are still too injured to be doing anything of the sort." Stromson nodded. "OK, between those two, you and Corlo, you should be able to get 11 fighters docked there. See if you can get it done by, say, 1300 tomorrow." Robert cut in. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but I'm assuming the extra fighter came from the Pacifica?" Stromson chuckled. "Affirmative. I've got Alpha squad running patrols in the morning, to you'll have their boarding room to start at." They nodded.
"For the Second part, and this is the part that I wished that Jackson was here for: The two of you will be required to be present at the awards ceremony in two weeks. You'll receive more details about that in a day. That's all for the formal part. Now for the informal part. You've talked to the potions master?" Shannon nodded. "You don't miss much, do you?" Stromson laughed. "Ch'Mee told me that he caught a glimpse of Miles leaving, and also was handed a note about a couple kegs coming on board. You *are* going to share, right?"
(1832/1667)