Faris, Poet-Warrior of the K'da (
poetwarrior) wrote in
nexus_crossings2019-01-20 09:07 pm
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Back To School Special
Storm? What storm? The inside of the library is as cozy as ever, comfortably warm and dry. In one corner of the study area, two aliens have commandeered a low table and some kind of soft, squishy seat that looks much like a couch made out of a giant bean bag. The table is heaped in books and datapads of various academic flavors, and Chanath holds another one of the devices, scrolling slowly through an introduction to warp physics. Unlike her typical manner of dress, the Shontin is wearing a red synthetic outfit tailor-made for her body shape, the golden delta of Starfleet perched on her collar. Her quadrupedal symbiont is sprawled out next to her on his belly, his long tail loosely wrapped around her waist, and between his forepaws is a hardcover book on the subject of basic intergalactic diplomatic techniques. Unlike his host, he wears no uniform, but there is a red band around his neck made of the same material, with Starfleet's symbol on it.
Studying from printed text instead of learning through song and speech is tedious, however, and not at all what they are used to, so it does not take long for Faris' attention to wander, finding people-watching to be of greater interest.
"If given an opportunity to study a new subject, would you take it?" he asks, of those who seem interested in conversation. "What would you wish to learn?"
Studying from printed text instead of learning through song and speech is tedious, however, and not at all what they are used to, so it does not take long for Faris' attention to wander, finding people-watching to be of greater interest.
"If given an opportunity to study a new subject, would you take it?" he asks, of those who seem interested in conversation. "What would you wish to learn?"
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"I just wanna learn how to defend myself so I don't feel like I'm holdin' anyone working with me back. I ain't a fighter. There's danger out there. Those creatures are horrible." Palmer doesn't even like thinking about them. He's almost been eaten too many times for comfort. "And there's worse, I'm sure. I almost died out there. If it hadn't been for Furiosa and Harley having my back, I wouldn't be here right now..."
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Jim Palmer's answer makes sense to Faris; anyone may learn to fight, but it takes an inborn skill to be a true warrior. "Humans have many techniques for self-defense, with weapons or without. I would offer to teach you some of what I know, but I fear your body is not made for them," he adds, mild amusement in his tone.
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"I guess that is true," Palmer says in reply to the second comment, lip curling into a smile. "I'm not a four-footed lizard creature. I don't have claws or teeth. I can use a gun, but I'm a lousy shot." All Palmer can really do with anything resembling competence is hand-to-hand combat, and he's run into too many situations where that flat-out won't work.
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"Even our oldest songs do not say what my people's world was like," Faris adds, though the way he speaks does not imply this is a sore spot. It simply is. "Our new world, however, is quite beautiful, with many forests and fields ready for settlement. It is a fine place to call home."
The K'da's laugh may be a strange one to human ears, sounding rather like rain splashing into a puddle. "I am trained in use of projectile weapons also, though our firearm designs likely differ. I prefer use of my own limbs however. A true warrior is never unarmed."
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While Palmer isn't a fighter, he is a survivor, and that's just fine by him. He even did better in battle than he thought he would. At the very least he was able to stand his ground this time.
"You look a bit like a dragon. Or a dinosaur." Palmer's mind is buzzing with his usual conspiracy theories. "Say...your people haven't visited Earth before, have they? I'm wonderin' if dragon legends have anything to do with you guys."
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But of course, the delicious smell is not the point, and he dips his head in a nod of acknowledgment at the unfortunate bluntness of human claws. "Perhaps not. Still, I have seen human forms of unarmed fighting. Your people are well adapted for the lack in your own ways."
The question is one that he has gotten before, and it is still an intriguing thought, yet one he is no closer to answering completely. "It appears unlikely, but it is possible. Our ships' records do not indicate we ever found the Earth in our home universe, if it exists there, yet K'da history is unclear in matters before several centuries past. Are dragons not thought to have wings, however?" he asks curiously, because that is what he has heard.
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Palmer notices the dragonlike alien tasting the air with his tongue, wondering if Faris's people have a taste for oil. It's toxic to humans and most other living things, so he's interested. It's not surprising that different species that evolved in a different environment would have different dietary requirements an limits to what they could tolerate.
"Well, some dragons have wings. There's other ones that don't. We've also got dinosaurs, who are kinda like wingless dragons - they're big, are reptiles, and some of 'em flew." Pterodactyls aren't dinosaurs, but Palmer's hardly a stickler on science. "There's a few dinosaurs here in the Nexus, I've heard."
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Someone... may not have told him that dragons are supposed to be mythical. After all, the Nexus has access to many worlds and many peoples; who is to say that dragons are not among them?
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He answers Faris's question, visible excitement on his face at the idea of meeting a live dinosaur. "Kind of. In my world, there are no such things as dragons. Dinosaurs are kind of like dragons that really existed."
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