Mabon's Story

Trashtown.

The physical embodiment of hidden beauty. One which no one would expect. Of course, the place was a dump. A gigantic trash dump that spanned miles from its center, filled with spare metal parts, cardboard, old furniture, broken vehicles, and even more grotesque items that did not need to be mentioned. And how high the dump lifted from ground level, it was unknown...to the Triumvirate, at least. To them, it was just an unfortunate outcome of litter and carelessness.

Tot he rebels, it was home.

Beneath the trash, it was a maze of buildings. An intricate labyrinth that screamed chaos to any stranger, but to a trained eye showed something much different. The roads were made of dirt, and riding along them were no ordinary cars that one would see in Wing City, no. The roads were filled with walkers, each resembling animals that one would find within an earthen forest, fused with machines and mutated to frightening results, all ridden by even stranger beings. All manner of beings with horns, tails made of bone, multiple arms, the whole plethora. Only a few were recognizable humans.

And within the heart of Trashtown, there was a bar and inn, which seemed perfectly polished on the inside. Clean. It even smelled of fresh air. A grey, large-headed alien with six arms handed out and mixed drinks, a man with several guns on his person polished a knife in the corner, and a woman with a hood over her head sat at the counter.

After wandering through the smoggy slums of Trashtown for a good two hours, Austin Marshall was naturally quite lost. The winding roads and labyrinthine pathways were quickly became hopeless circular restarts to the misplaced TIB agent; just when he'd thought he'd found a way through the garbage forest, he'd pass some familiar landmark to remind him that he was exactly where he'd begun walking thirty minutes ago.

Garbed in ratty jeans, chewed-up shoes and a button-up shirt that was just one size too small, Austin might have been fearing for his life had he not just spent the last month as a prisoner aboard an Ori ship. After thirty long days of painful mind probes and constant psychological torment, Marshall was just happy to be in a place where his thoughts were at last his own. He was on an alien planet without a friend in the world... but he was his own man again. That fact alone inspired him to live on.

Briefly, he checked the contents of his pockets: a small (but sharp-looking) knife, and a strange collection of papers that he hoped was some form of currency. The former he'd torn off of a nearby 'home.' The latter he'd pickpocketed off of a passing pedestrian.

Eager to get off the streets and drawn in by the scents of unpolluted air, Marshall was quick to enter the bar. The agent shuffled his feet on the mat, keeping his head low as he walked out of the desolate main street into the dark and secret tavern. He needed to keep a low profile. Find someone who spoke Basic. Get off of this planet as soon as he could.

Austin walked slowly up to the counter near the the six-armed bartender. He eyed the woman briefly, a million sexual innuendos surging through his mind at once. Wisely fighting his citofacin disorder, the agent spoke in a low, careful voice: "...I don't suppose you sell liquor here?" He wasn't even sure if alcohol was a commodity on a planet like this.

The alien bartender looked up toward Austin with eight beady black eyes, not unlike that of a spider's. It froze in place, one of its tiny hands protruding from the thing's chest pausing before placing it down.

Reaching beneath the counter, the alien drew out what seemed like a small, black box with a glowing symbol atop it. An infinity sign with a small dot at its center.

The creature spoke from its thin lips, and a myriad of sharp words were spoken in an entirely different language. After, another, smoother voice came from the box.

"Speak again, stranger."

During this little exchange, both the man in the corner and the woman with the hood had turned their heads to look at Austin suspiciously.

Austin Marshal briefly looked towards the two other bar patrons, his expression cautious. His hazel eyes slowly coursed over the wide selections of strange-looking liquids arrayed about the counter. Some of them didn't even look like they belonged in bottles at all.

"Um." Austin drew a breath, noting the translation tool, "...do you... serve humanoids?" He smiled humorously, patting his stomach. "Y'know. Basic gastrointestinal tract. Nothing too..." He wasn't sure which of her six eyes he should look at while talking to her, "...extreme..."

The creature bit its lips, eyes narrowing and wrinkling at the sides as its shoulders bobbled. Its little hands wrapped over its mouth as it leaned onto the counter, eyes now squeezing shut.

The other two, the woman and the man, began to laugh, the woman howling into her shirt, the man beating the wall next to him with several hollow thumps.

As the laughter died, the creature managed a nod, pointing to Austin as it looked to the other patrons, as though saying, "Get a load of this!"

The woman took down her hood, revealing a head of dark hair that tumbled over one shoulder in curls. Her features were sharp, and her skin tanned. She gazed at him with a pair of bright, yellow eyes.

"We're all humanoids here," she spoke, and in perfect Terran. "And I take it you're not from around here? How did you get past the Misranan defenses? Or were you smuggled in somehow?"

She rose a hand to gesture toward the six-armed alien, and spoke with that foreign tongue.

As a chorus of gruff laughter filled his ears, Austin wasn't sure what he'd said or done to merit the humor. He was a bit scared, truth be told. This was like something straight out of one of those two-star horror flicks on the SciFi channel. He half expected some poorly-animated computer generated horde of mutant spiders to crawl out of the ground and eat him alive while he screamed some cheesy dialogue about-

The agent snapped himself out of his self-induced trance, shaking his head quickly as he struggled to anchor himself back in reality. Citofacin was a strange thing.

"I'm afraid I'm NOT from around here," he smiled sheepishly as he turned to face the woman, glad to find someone who actually spoke Basic, "got dropped off here quite against my will." He ran a hand through his hair, deciding not to shy away from the truth for the time being. He didn't know if this world held any pro-Empire sentiments. "I guess the smugglers that'd been holding me for the past month finally decided I was dead weight. They left me on the nearest hospitable planet they could find."

The woman leaned her pointed chin atop her knuckles, leaning toward him. "Ohhh. Look at this. We've got a foreigner. Isn't that new, everyone? It's been a hundred years since Trashtown has seen someone from another planet." she said, tilting her head to study his face. "Dissecting you would be fun."

The man in the back cleared his throat, giving the woman a warning stare. She rolled her eyes, but continued her advances. She placed both hands on the stool in front of her, to lift herself from her current seat and land her right in front of the foreigner.

"Josai Toye. That's my name." she purred, lifting a hand to take his chin in her fingers and turn his head around. "You don't seem very strange at all..."

Austin wasn't sure what to do as the girl took him in her hands, inspecting his features as if he were a piece of meat. 'Look on the bright side, Marshall...' the agent thought to himself, '...she's KINDA pretty.' That at least made this whole ordeal somewhat salvageable.

"Austin Marshall," he introduced himself with a grin, "pleased to meet you, though I'll admit..." He grinned boyishly, "...usually I have to buy a girl a few drinks before she starts running her hands all over me." He laughed quietly, bringing his arm up and attempting to encompass her coursing digits in his own. His grip was warm and calloused, but beneath the easy charm of his nonchalant demeanor, there was a steady force. Austin was still slightly anxious about all of this. He attempted to lift her hand off of his face.

"But yes, you can think of me as tourist," he smiled, looking between Josai and the armed knifeman with a relaxed coolness, "...a tourist with hardly a penny to his name or a map to guide himself by... but a tourist nonetheless." He leaned across the bar, laying down half of the papers he'd managed to thief earlier and sliding them toward the arachnid-woman. "...I'm determined to make the most of my stay on this planet while I'm here."

He grinned back at Josai.

"Any ideas as to how how I might get started on that?"

Josai was no princess, but she certainly wasn't as ugly as they got. She was pretty decent, despite the scar that showed itself as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Is that how you do things on your planet? You'll have to speed up, kid." she said, winking. "For all you know, this is a planet of amazonian woman. Willing to drag you into th-"

A dull thump sounded as a knife embedded itself next to Josai's hand. The woman drew back like a snake, recoiling with a yelp. The knife wielder from earlier put his hand on his hip, standing up to a height of a stunning six and a half feet.

"Josai, now, don't scare off the first tourist we've both been able to see in this lifetime." he spoke, the voice dark and metallic, ringing as though he were speaking through a tin can. He rolled back his broad shoulders, then reached forth with a broad hand to dig the knife out of the counter. He directed two black wells of eyes to Austin.

"I am Mabon. And you're going to have a very hard time getting off this planet, if you ever wish to. The Triumvirate rules the skies...something we're trying incredibly hard to fix. Masto! Get the man a shot on me. I think we're going to have a very long...very interesting talk." yelled Mabon, and the six-armed bartender immediately began to fix a drink.

"I believe so, as well," mumbled Josai. "What planet is it that you came from?"

"It's called 'Terra'," Austin lazed against the counter, pulling Mabon's knife out of the wood and twirling it between his fingers, "you might have heard of it. Sort of infamous throughout the Multiverse. We get caught up in a lot of wars and we boast the largest interdimensional junction-point in all the known Multiverse. You might know it as 'Gambit's Bar.'"

Austin would thank the bartender as he received the liquor, downing the contents in a single gulp. He ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth, seemingly unphased by the heavy shot. The agent wasn't a big drinker, but he was a damn actor. The knife continued to twirl effortlessly between his fingers... before it snapped up between his thumb and index in an instant. Without even looking, the agent let the blade loose, throwing the weapon across the room with seemingly careless ease. The knife tumbled through the air in perfect balance before embedding itself in a nearby support. It stuck and quivered.

"...you could say that I was something of a 'security measure' back on my home planet," he folded his arms over his chest, nodding to Mabon and winking at Josai. "I'm a man of many talents."

Mabon's eyes followed the movement of the knife until it sunk into the beam, one brow arching upwards, perhaps...because he was partly impressed.

He nodded, walking over to the support. He reached out his opposite hand, which wore a heavy leather glove, and clasped his fingers over the knife. "Should have expected that."

Josai put her fingers to her mouth, blinking in bewilderment before she turned her attention right back to Austin.

"Good to know that...you can certainly handle yourself," she commented. "I'm sure you didn't do...badly...as a security measure. Although...that brings up a question! How hard was it for your kidnappers to take you down?"

Austin was quiet for a moment, his expression caught somewhere between bashful guilt and boyish mischief. "They cheated," he mock-pouted. Not far from the truth. Austin had had no way to defend against Iblis' ascended energy bindings. He'd of had better luck trying to block a tidal wave with a kite shield. For all his training and skill as a fighter, Marshall was still very human... and every once in a while, some demi-god motherfucker liked to get in his way and remind him of that.

"But I suppose I can't complain," he shrugged, still smiling, "I cheat an awful lot myself. And for what's it worth, I gave them a run for their money." The agent stretched an arm over his chest. "Frankly, I'm a bit pissed off. I'd like to get back to Terra as soon as possible." he nodded towards Mabon. "You said that'd be difficult, given this planet's current political predicaments. Perhaps you can tell me more about this lil' 'revolution'..."

Mabon exchanged glances with Josai before turning his blue optics to Austin.

"It is a war we have only just been able to turn the tables with...if just a little. Months ago, our planet was enveloped in a global cloaking field. The Calidonan Supremacy, strongly isolationist, had control over every functioning continent on Misrana. However...recently, our rebellion, soldiers from this very city, were able to take down forty-six of the eighty towers keeping up the cloak. It went down enough to alert outside forces of our existence. Or, rather...the announcement that Misrana is not a dead planet."

Mabon crossed his massive arms, and leaned against the counter. "I lead the sector that reclaimed part of Gravone, the continent you stand on now. We are still fighting against the Supremacy. It is going to become much more difficult soon, but we are prepared."

Josai beamed, folding her legs on the stool she sat on. "But if we get you to Zanzaria, we might be able to sneak you out, if you want to get away that badly."

"I'm eager to return to my home world," Austin admitted to Josai, reclining along the counter, "but I'm willing to work for my right to leave the planet, if that's what it comes down to. Just try to keep me from killing anybody, if possible. Wouldn't want to cause some intergalactic scandal between the TNG and the Supremacy." He looked back to Mabon. "I'm curious... how does taking down those cloaking devices help your cause? So what if the rest of the galaxy knows that Misrana is a living world? Were you hoping to gather allies from the rest of the Milky Way to assist you?"

The agent winced. "I hate to break it to you friend, but our galaxy is in a state of turmoil. An oppressive Empire called 'The Aschen' has declared war on all nations who they believe to be a threat to their society. It's a bloodbath out there. Terra only just got out of it... and the cost of more then half its population, no less." Austin shook his head. "I'm afraid you'll only find MORE war out there."

"Hoping? Ahhh, nah." rasped Mabon, waving a hand dismissively at Austin, a smirk worming across his lips. "We already have one ship going to Terra, scoping it out. We get messages saying that they found very powerful allies on Terra, and they are bringing them here to aid us. On Misrana, we do not hope. We get things done."

Josai rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Don't listen to the old geezer too much. All those years of fighting the war and losing most of his organic body parts no doubt did something to his brain. So, how about this...we won't be able to get to Zanzaria easy. You'll need to learn how we do things here. You know how to drive an ATW, right? They have those on your world?

"If not, we're going to have a lot to teach you."

"If it's 'All-Terrain' and uses a steering wheel and gas pedal, I can drive it," Austin replied, folding his arms over his chest, "what I'm worried about is the planet itself. I've never heard of this place. Like you said, I need to figure out how things work around here. The last thing I need is to draw unwanted attention to myself."

Austin sauntered off the bar, walking coquettishly over to Josai's table. "It looks like I need a tutor, then..." he clicked his tongue, running a hand through his hair. "Well? How about it? You seem to be well-informed." And endowed. "Think you could give me a thorough... debriefing?" He grinned, his fingers tracing patterns into the table. Austin had been stuck on a goddamn Ori ship for the last month. He was ready to let loose and have a little fun... even if there was a possibility that the 'fun' would dissect him in his sleep.

Josai's lips parted slightly, at first, in a silent gape, but the edges of her mouth turned up immediately into a pleased grin. Her fingers laced beneath her chin as she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"Ohh...I'm sure I have enough time in my schedule to indulge yo- I mean indulge. In your tutelage. To tutor you." She nodded, slowly getting up from her chair. Mabon rolled his eyes.

"He's not a plaything, Jose. This isn't like your last pe-"

Before Mabon was able to finish, there was a loud, empty holler from outside. It echoed down the street in that foreign language Austin had been hearing since he had landed on Misrana. The translator on the counter saved him the confusion.

"Lights out!" it said.

What light had poured out from behind the doors before extinguished completely, and it wasn't long until the bar lights, too, clicked off. Josai's boots could be heard shuffling on the ground.

"Well, our little foreigner gets his first taste of how suspenseful the living is here. There's a scouter flying up above us, hear it?" She paused, allowing the silence to fall down onto them until...ah! There it was!

The low buzz of propellers came to their ears, and the white of a spotlight flashed by the street.

"It checks Trashtown for anything suspicious, but it doesn't go below the first level of the mounds. Lucky for us."

"Hm. Bet that keeps you awake at night," Austin crouched instinctually, watching as bright beams of pale light flooded the streets. "Looks like the bad-guys are a bit more suspicious then you all like, huh? Still, I imagine you hide yourselves well. I could hardly find my way just walking through the streets. This city is a fucking garbage maze."

Austin looked forward, faintly making out the brawny, silhouetted physique of Mabon. "Looks like the bad-guys have some fancy toys." The buzzing of the scouter was just beginning to fade out. "I don't suppose the rebels get cool shit like that?" The agent stood up slowly. "Man, what kind of tech DOES this planet have, anyway? So far all I know about this place is that the world is at war, the liquor is good and the women..." He looked briefly over his shoulder at Josai.

"...well. I may need to do a bit more research in that department."

"It's not like it's my fault, Vel," came the rough, scratchy voice of one of the more well-known denizens of Trashtown. "She went off with the man out of nowhere. I'm not the girl's father. She will do as she pleases."

The door to the store would screech open, revealing not only the cyborg veteran of the first war of the Rebellion, with his blue optics, robotic arm, and dark cloak, but one of the updated creations inspired only by the mad.

Terriga Vel, the woman with the metal spine and the cyborg wings. They had slid down the spine and acted as legs, for the time being.

Both looked to Jax and gave a Trashtown salute; the hand, laid flat on the chest, then extended outward.

"Ah, Jax. Just the man I was hoping to see," Mabon replied in a voice like gravel.

"Weapons. And we have much to give back. There is news," said Mabon, leaning his thick mass against a wall as he crossed his arms. "Aliens are coming to Misrana. We just received a transmission from one of the platforms. Whoever it is, they call themselves Aschen. Ring any bells with you, Jax?" Mabon asked him, a brow raising a bit.

The woman with the robotic spine skittered further in, wrapping her hands around rather frail-looking arms. She was pale, her skin looking to have the same texture as...chalk. Or rather, the same, thick, whiteness to it.

She did not speak, but she did turn her smokey eyes to Jax.