AT THE BROWN FEATHER INN 

A Confederation naval lieutenant (Marrik Dalsheer), and a dark man in
unusual clothing (Zulu One / Z1), both human enter the common room,
closely followed by another human dressed in black leather (Adan). Zulu
has a large gun on his pack, and Adan bears a pair of pistols. 

Z1 and Marrik make their way to a table already occupied by a human
initiate, a human psionic, and a Rachak diviner. Z1 speaks using the
generic Kafara sign language, "Mind if I sit down? I am new around this
place, I am called Zulu One." 

The initiate signs back, "Of course, we've reached a bit of an impass." 

Meanwhile, Adan strides over to the bar, his armament attracting a few
glances. 

"Hard cider please sir," Adan says in a deep powerful voice using the
human Peshka language, tossing the cost of the drink on the counter.
"One Apple Squeeze, no spices." the bartender rumbles back in the same
language as he drifts the drink over. 

At the table in the middle of the room, Z1 and Marrik take their seats
as Marrik signs, "I'm Lt. Marrik Dalsheer, escorting Zulu One while he
picks up our ways." Z1 continues, "I would be interested in hearing
stories. Especially about metallic monsters, which have been active on
N'ferra for some time already." 

At the bar, Adan picks up the drink and turns to look around the room
again. Z1 notices that Adan seem to be paying special attention to him,
though he's polite about it. (Note: Z1 does not speak Peshka.) Without
turning around Adan calls over his back to the Rachak, "So, what's the
story around here?" As he talks to the bartender, Adan has no trouble
following the signed conversation in the middle of the room. 

"That depends on what you're looking for." the bartender rumbles.
"Things are pretty quite now that the active gates have been moved off
station. I hear that the Confed's planning to build some fortresses to
surround the station to provide more protection. People keep finding
these vermin around no can identify. Merchant ship are hiring more
on-board protection ever since the Bifrost vanished. Base Arcane keeps
trying to insist that we help build them up, or at least allow the
Arcane to set up shop here. Ferris's sent a Servant of Ferris to assist
the local churches. Anything else you want to know? Oh, and a metal ship
from an alien dimension landed on the station a few days back." 

"Nah thanks for the info." Adan states. 

Back in the center of the room, the Ch'vrr waitress darts up to take
orders from the new people. (Marrik orders fruit soup, bread, cheese,
and a brew.) Then the Rachak begins signing. It takes Z1 a few moments
to correlate the tendril motions with the hand signs he's been taught.
"I've not heard of any 'metal monsters' about recently, although some of
the things we've found through the gates could meet that description.
We've found some very alien _biological_ creatures on our ships recently
that we can't identify. I do know a story of the second age that tells
of a metal monster if you would care to 'hear' it." 

Z1: "Yes, I would. Also, tell me what period of time does second age
refer to, I am from very far away and I am trying to learn your language
and history as well as knowledge about metallic beings on metal ships -
Those could be my and everyone elses enemies." 

The psionic answers, "The second age started around 5,000 years ago and
ended about 1500 years ago. Some of the races, like the Rachak, didn't
leave many records of the period." 

Adan turns his attention fully on the table that the conversation is
taking place at his curiosity piqued. He downs his drink in one immense
gulp and sets the empty glass back down on the counter. 

"Thanks friend," Adan states to the barkeep. 

Adan steps away from the bar and heads toward the table that Z1 and
Marrik are talking at. His long solid strides take his 193lbs, 6'1"
frame to the table in seconds. 

"Hello sirs," Adan begins his powerful voice ending the conversation
while he simultaneously signs it in Kafara. "I do not mean to intrude
but I've been hired to do some sub-station construction and these 'metal
monsters' sound like they may pose a threat to my job. If you don't mind
I would like to listen in to this tale?" 

Adan stands patiently waiting for their response 

Z1: "Yes, by all means." 

"I am trying to seek out information about a hostile race of metal
monsters which attempt to eradicate all organic life and steal their
resources. I retreated here from their domain, they still almost managed
to destroy my ship with sunfire. I am trying to find out if these
creations of the Mastermind have been working here long, or are they
just starting their operations. My mission is to cease their existence
and protect human life." 

"What kind of pistols do you have, by the way?" 

Adan fluidly settles himself down on the pillows and places one of his
pistols, handle away from him on the table. 

"My name is Adan, some times known as the Wanderer," Adan states as he
continues to sign. "The revolver is a special make that were built for
me by some Nurha gunsmiths who's lives I had saved." 

Zulu One is a very handsome 6'4" tall muscular man with black skin,
black hair and hazel brown eyes. Mostly he has a grim and serious
expression. He is dressed into a black and smooth armor of odd design,
helmet of which hangs from his belt. On his back he carries two large
items besides his backpack - A big gun and boxlike construct which has
two sided saw attached to it. On his belt he has an odd small rifle
which has long box attached to it. Another odd thing is that Z1 does not
smell much and does not sweat at all even while encumbered and in heavy
armor. 

Z1: "Impressive. Can the gunsmiths manufacture cased white-powder
ammunition or high-explosives?" 

"I have very limited supply of ammunition for my big gun. My previous
battles with Masterminds ships used up many rounds. I am afraid that a
revolver would not have sufficient power to harm the metal monsters at
all, unless it uses highly specialized ammunition." 

Adan ceases to speak but continues to sign, "please continue the tale." 

Z1 nods, also interested. 

(Links to the story can be found in the Appendix.) 

Z1: "A good story." 

"Sounds like a relatively simple and unadaptive artificial construction
monster, its purpose being only construction of artificial bases.
Masterminds monsters are far more dangerous, they move in groups and are
led by smarter central intelligences, and they have ships. They can kill
by beams of light and bullets." 

"Also, Mastermind has not existed but for much less than hundred years.
So that monster was not created by it." 

"So are you suggesting that these creatures are really little versions
of this metal monster of ancient legend?" Adan asks 

Z1: "No, that is very unlikely. If you would like to see more, I can
show pictures in my ship, which is not very far from here, by the way." 

Z1 digs his pack for a while and takes out small box, on which reads
text in unknown language. He tears odd piece of transparent material
from around this box, opens the box and takes out a small tube of paper.
He puts the tube into his mouth and takes an odd small device from his
belt, device says >click< and a small flame sprouts out, igniting one
end of the tube. Z1 inhales smoke through the tube and puffs rings of
smoke after this.. 

Z1: "You want one too?" 

"No thank you," Adan states in a distracted tone, "I would like to see
those pictures though. I enjoy history and this intrigues me. I have
very little to due until tomorrow when I perform this construction job
for Base N'Ferra." 

Z1: "Those pictures are not very old. Some of them have been done a few
days ago. These metallic beings are intent on expanding their domain,
and I doubt that local people can fight them unaided successfully." 

The Rachak bartender arrows over to you. His head tendrils wave and he
intones in a sonorous voice. Suddenly the smoke from your cigarette
stops rising and gathers in a globe around your head. "I'm sorry sir,
but I must ask you to put that out. There's no telling who might be
affected or how. If you wish to indulge, there's a smoking room through
that curtain." 

(Note: Smoking, inhaling, or spitting when there are several races
present is considered _extremely_ bad manners.) 

Z1: "What? This is only tobacco, mild stuff. It is not life threatening
to any but the most delicate organisms. You had no smoking signs
anywhere, so I could not know." 

Grim looking, Z1 chews and swallows the still burning cigar without so
much as blinking an eye: "Anything more to add, organic being?" 

As soon as the cigarette is put out, the bartender intones again, and
the smoke around Z1 disappears. 

"I apologize. With so many races and so many substances, who's to know
what will affect who how? Even the mildest substances to one line of
evolution can be toxic in another line. We, that is, the owners, have
found it easier to simply make sure no one smokes or inhales in the
common area. Again I apologize." 

"About these signs, what would they look like? While everyone from
N'Ferra knows not to smoke in a mixed-race area, I can see that would be
convenient as we deal more with those from other realms." 

Z1 takes a notepad from his pack, draws a No Smoking sign from his
memory and tears off the page. He hands it to the bartender. 

Z1: "There, this will do it."