milliways_bar | (no subject)

BANG!

That was the Door flying open.

Zzzzat-zooot-zat-zat-BOOM!

And that would be the sounds of some sort of fighting going on outside it. Fortunately, the tall, robed and armored figure standing in the opening appears to have some sort of energy shield which is keeping the energy bolts from endangering any patrons quite nicely.

The helmeted head turns slightly as if he just noticed what's behind him.

"I advise you stand down and surrender," he says to whoever's doing the shooting. "The delegates are out of your reach. Further violence will not have a favorable result."

The only response is an increase in the tempo of the blasts.

"Very well."

With his back to Milliways and his massive encounter suit blocking the Door entirely, it's pretty much impossible to see exactly what his return salvo is...but there is an impressive flash of light and an even more impressive BOOM as he steps backwards into the Resturant at the End of the Universe. The Door swings shut with a quiet click.

"That," he says as he turns to face the room, "was most unpleasant. It is definitely time for tea."

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"Not a problem," Ray says. "I'll be right back."

He must've stayed here last night; he's got his Incredible Hulk slippers on as he shuffles over to the Bar to negotiate the acquisition of tea and- yeah, that's Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs he's got there.

The Ranger ducks into the cloak room to shed the suit.

Or does the suit shed him? Either way, he's soon making his way toward a table and sinking into a chair with a sigh. It's been a LONG day for the Anla'shok.

Ray sets down the tea and takes a good long look at the Ranger.

"You can have my cereal if you think it'd help," he finally offers.

The Ranger smiles as he pours himself a fragrant cup.

"Thank you, Ray, but the tea is what I really need right now. Sovereign remedy for dealing with the perversity of the universe and the creatures that inhabit it."

He pauses to give the tea its proper respect - giving attention to the warmth of the cup, the color of the liquor and the fragrance of the steam before taking an appreciative sip.

"That's more like it."

Tea - it does a body/energy life-form good.

"Not a problem. The Chinese guy I met here last night would probably agree with you." Ray settles back in his chair with his cereal. "So how's it going out there?"

"Well, up until that little snafu, things were going quite well."

Another sip. "The Equine Restoration Project is progressing by leaps and bounds thanks to the genetic material I was able to obtain from here. And this most recent mediation mission was going wonderfully."

There is a light in his eyes as he looks off into the distance. "It is times like this that are the pay-off for being a Teacher. To finally see to races or groups come to the negotiation table willingly and openly. Acknowledging and accepting the fact that they will have to make concessions of some kind instead of trying to grab all they can get."

Ray grins. "Good for you. And them, for that matter. So who was that trying to yank the tablecloth out from under the Cheerios, or would the name not make any difference to someone from my part of the time stream?"

"Oh, I seriously doubt you've heard of the Bhvais," he says with a laugh. "But they are a somewhat less mature group who have engaged in frequent tussels with both sides in the current negotiation. Apparently, they thought the recent enlightened attitudes being displayed indicated a certain 'softness' they could exploit and thought that crashing the conference would win them a nice catch of hostages."

He drains his cup and pours another. "Once the dust dies down, I believe we can go back to the negotiation table without much problem. Valen as my witness, they were hardly needing my mediation at all. I think it would take more than this to break things down completely."

Ray thinks for a minute; eventually he shakes his head. "No, I don't think I remember seeing them in the TARDIS records that Romana's let me have access to," he says. "Which is probably the only place I'd be able to get my hands on that kind of information, so you're probably right. Good luck dealing with them. I'd offer to help if a, I thought it'd make a difference, and b, I didn't have a duty of my own to pursue as soon as the Bar lets me out the door again."

"We all have our own bridges to defend," he says. "A kind offer, though, and I thank you for it. What particular bridge are you defending this time?"

"The city of Chicago," Ray says. "A ship that sank in a November storm back in 1969's started manifesting on Lake Michigan again. Which wouldn't be that much of a problem for the city, if it weren't for the fact that the storm manifests whenever the ship does. It happens every night, and it's disrupting a lot of the everyday doings on the lake. We're trying to work out how to get the Robert Mackenzie to finish its voyage safely, since that looks like the main binding duty holding the spirits to the prime material plane instead of letting them go on to their final destination."

Thoughtful look as he sips. "Hmmm...is there any physical reminant of the ship to be found? Perhaps if that was brought ashore. I fear I have no experience with calming restless ghosts, but, from the stories we have in our records, they do seem to be as vulnerable to technicalities as a Drazi judge."

"Unfortunately no," Ray says. "They've found the approximate location where part of the Robert Mackenzie went down, but no one's been able to dive far enough to confirm it yet. The ship sort of broke in half when it hit a shoal. As it stands, we're going to have some assistance- a friend of mine from here who's a wizard with experience dealing with spirits volunteered to come along, since he visits his Chicago all the time."