milliways_bar | (no subject)

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jack bauer

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[Pre-Milliways: Distractions]

There's not a pop, a whoosh of air, or any other warning. The space in front of the door is simply empty... and then it's not.

It's actually occupied by a tall, leggy brunette clutching a round mirror roughly a foot across. The woman drops into a defensive crouch, snapping the attached cover over the mirror as she does so.

Seven has no idea where she is, but you don't get to be a highly respected member of the Obsidian Order without a certain gift for improvisation and adaptability. So, when no threat is immediately apparent, she stands up slowly and takes a more appraising look at her surroundings.

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Jack's sitting at the bar, trying to manage spaghetti when his dominant hand is still in a sling, when out of the corner of his eye, he catches the sudden movement of someone by the door. Instantly his field instincts kick in, and he looks over, wary.

He watches her carefully as she stands, looking around as though she's carefully taking it all in, making mental notes. The look of a likely newcomer.

"I take it you've never been here before?" he asks, casually.

Seven's eyes widen almost imperceptibly at the sight of the Terran speaking to her. She certainly wasn't expecting that.

"It... does not seem familiar," she replies carefully.

Jack catches her very slight surprise, and idly wonders exactly why she's had that reaction. He's careful not to let it show, though.

"If you'd been here before, you'd remember it. Welcome to Milliways, the bar at the end of the universe," he says, gesturing to the Observation Window with his uninjured hand. His attitude is friendly enough, though perhaps a little reserved.

"End of the..."

Cue facepalming.

String of Cardassian curses, you're on in 3.. 2.. 1.. go.

"Yeah, that and utter shock seem to be the typical reactions," Jack says, his smile a little warmer. One doesn't have to understand a language to get the feeling that someone's cursing a blue streak in it.

"Can you see the door, by the way?"

Seven eyes the Terran.

"That is an odd question." She turns. "Yes, there is a door."

"Ah, okay, so you're not Bound. Not everyone can see it, which means not everyone can leave. You're still welcome to stay here though; there are rooms upstairs and you can get a key from Bar," he says, patting the bar top. "She's sentient, so you can ask her for things. She may not always give you exactly what you want, though."

Sentient? More likely a replicator with a damaged voice interface. But, that's Terran's for you, anthropomorphizing everything. At least she's used to it, so she doesn't react visibly. After all, how many times has she had to fight not to roll her eyes when Janeway refers to Voyager as "she"?

"I understand. Thank you for the information."

She looks around again, frowning slightly. A large Terran population.

"You said 'end of the universe' -- you mean this literally?"

Jack nods. "I do. There's something about the magic or technology of this place that keeps pulling it back from the very end. So the universe just keeps on ending over and over again."

[ooc: ...Please tell me you're planning for Bar to prove she's VERY sentient, thank you very much, sometime? ;-)]

"Fascinating. And it is run by Terrans?"

Oh that gets a raised eyebrow. "Sorry, what?"

"There may be some temporal confusion. Possibly the term was lost to the mists of time. Frankly, I'm surprised the species survived at all. Terran... of the race of humans originally from the planet Earth, in the Sol system."

It should be worth noting that Seven looks about as human as they come.

Yeah, Jack's kind of noticed that. He's also bristling slightly at her tone when she talks about Earth.

"Well I believe the head Barman is from Earht, and Security and the other staff are from a dozen different places. The person or thing that could be said to run the place is the Landlord though, and no one knows quite what he, she, or it is, exactly," he says, a little coolly.

Huh. Well, isn't that interesting. This might just be worth sticking around for.

"I believe I shall take a room, then. Thank you for your assistance."

She walks over and lays a hand on the bar. "Bar. A glass of Cardassian ale, chilled, and a key to an upstairs room."

For a moment, nothing happens. Then a note appears on top of the bar, written in an elegant, flowing script.

Say Please

Jack does his best not to snicker. However, even his best isn't quite good enough.

"She has a unique sense of humour," he says, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

[ooc: Must flee for bed; slowtime?]

Seven is not amused.

"Clearly."

[ooc: was about to suggest the same. hee!]

"I should mention that it helps to be nice to her, as she can get revenge in rather interesting ways."

Seven sighs, stopping just short of rolling her eyes.

"May I please have some Cardassian ale and a key to a room?" she asks again.

The offered items finally appear.

"Thank you," the woman adds, trying not to say it through clenched teeth.

"One other thing you should know; the bar has three basic rules. One: no violence. That's pretty self-explanatory. Two: No business. That includes old business; even if your oldest enemy comes in the bar, you can't retaliate," he says, though he doesn't sound to happy about this last rule, himself.

"The last one really shouldn't need mentioning, but you'd be surprised how many people don't follow it. Namely, no sex in the bar. There is a security force here, so if you're caught breaking any of the rules, you can be punished."

Seven raises an eyebrow at that. "Understood."

She sips the ale. Quite good, actually. Definitely tastes real. And it's not synthehol, either. Fascinating.

"How do you ike it?" he asks, a slightly knowing look on his face.

"It is enjoyable," Seven replies. "Clearly, replicator technology has vastly improved since my time."

Jack tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. "Replicators?"

"These language differences are becoming tiresome," she mutters under her breath.

Then, to Jack, "Whatever the correct term in your vernacular is, it refers to the device which creates the items asked for. Your bar is obviously a highly sophisticated replicator with an advanced AI interface. Most impressive technology."

With something like that available to her, holding the Overseer's post would be child's play.

Oh yeah, Bar's going to have fun with this one.

"There probably isn't a correct term for it as we don't have them yet," he says, taking a sip of a glass of water that appears next to his ahnd before he can ask.

That definitely gets a stare.

Telepathic interface?

But it's more what the Terran just said that gets her attention. Clearly, the technology exists; she's watching it in action. For some reason, the populace simply appears not to recognize it.

There are any number of scenarios to explain how the technology could survive while knowledge and understanding of it waned. She can easily come up with four without even trying. In all of those cases, she determines that the best course of action is to play into the local belief system. It would not do to draw too much attention to herself by protesting.

"Yes, of course," she says with a curt nod. "My mistake. Such a device would have to be constructed where I am from in order to approximate the workings of this... of Lady Bar."

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