I spent a little time looking around for services I could use and managed to get a few recommendations from the Bartender, but the day was otherwise a major wash. It was, in fact, almost a total waste. I did manage to get some more smokes.

That was the only other win, and I had to admit, they were better than the garbage I was used to.

I was getting itchy, so unused to this kind of free time was I that I was getting freaked out by it. Even during my free time while I was one of the gulls, I would take contracts and generally tinker, but being unable to do both was starting to wear on me last night excluded. I was itching for something to keep my fingers busy.

And like so many other times where my fingers couldn’t do the two things they were good at, I found myself back at the bar, and despite the hour, it was packed.

I found my way to the counter, to my valiant stool. It was clear, despite the crowd like it held an aura so rancid no one would sit there and I sat myself down on it. There was no need to talk, I simply took in the warm and homey atmosphere as many lookers, and some that were strictly not, enjoyed it with me.

I sucked back my drink and waited, hoping to find my companion. I still needed to apologize for literally ditching her right before we went horizontal or complain when she snitched. She had seen Pinky, but she seemed more like a living urban legend.

She didn’t seem like a snitch to me.

Maybe that was just me being a moron, though. Either way, she was probably going to come back, so I struck up a conversation with the only two I knew, like the awkward cave dweller I was.

“Thanks for the suggestion on the smokes,” I told the Bouncer.

“No problem,” she said, “Mind passing me one? My fee, if you would.”

I snorted, and did so, pulling them out of my pocket box and passing one to the she lion.

“Damn, look at that. Is that what I think it is? How the hell are you even using that?” She asked.

“Magic,” I told her, snaping the pocket box closed, “I have magic fingers.”

“Doubtful,” she said, giving me a look as if she would see my power source.

“I’m not lying. They just work for me; my main weapon was an artifact sword before I got shot in the back.” I told her, flourishing my fingers.

“Some people have all of the luck,” she snorted, her well-muscled frame hunching slightly.

“Hey, don’t go deciding that already. You’re the one with massive fingers. That’s like winning the lottery when it comes to softer lovers,” I told her, taking a crisp draw of my cigarette.

She looked at me like I had just made the insinuation I had, a look that stood on the intersection between bemusement, bewilderment, absolute incomprehension, and a smidge of embarrassment.

“Are you saying I’m… Well hung?” she asked.

“More like very well hung, considering how small the fine lady behind the counter is,” I said, making sure to acknowledge the tiny lady as she cleaned a glass.

She smiled as the large woman gave her a side eye and shuddered.

That was perfectly normal. Probably.

Honestly, I didn’t want to think about it, especially because there was more than one emotion behind that shudder. There was definitely something horrifying about that, but there was also a weird kink behind that, and I did not want to know what that was.

I had a feeling it was a place I wouldn’t go with a gun, and considering nightmare pocket dimensions full of demon alien things were on that list, that was quite something.

Thankfully, I wasn’t here for that. I was here for someone else.

She just wasn’t here yet, but I had hope.

“You being a well hung lioness aside for the moment, whats the deal with this early crowd?” I asked her.

“It's because there was an announcement. Some big wig is coming to the prefecture. Probably because of the blockade, if you ask me. It's not war yet, but it's all but a declaration of war. Good news for everyone, though. They got half the day off like it was a holiday, we get more customers, and fortunately for you, the request to get a fake identity was far easier to sneak in while everyone was covering their collective asses. It might not hold up as well if you cause a stink, though, but it's getting ready now,” she told me.

“Lucky bonus. Sometimes lady luck shines on us,” I told her.

“If you told me an hour later, you would be collected forgiveness money,” she told me.

Luck. Fantastic.

Now, I just had to worry about the luck that debt would accrue. I was always ‘lucky’ until I was very, very unlucky. Part of finding my way out of that was luck, but part of it was pattern recognition.

“Who's coming?” I asked her, and that pattern recognition told me this would be the problem element.

“Why would you think I would know? What about the red light district says we care much about some Dragon sycophant. Who fucking cares. They won’t break the peace if they're smart, and as long as they work with everyone, there won’t be an issue,” She said, clearly not caring about the possible ramifications.

I looked at her, thinking to myself for a moment, unsure if I should share my two credits. Told her that my gut says that would be a major issue held all the sanity of someone doing something because it came to them in a dream or because the voices told them to do it. Sharing my credits here meant fucking around with credibility.

“My two credits?” I asked her, deciding that I should let her buy-in if she wanted me to pass her my crack pipe theory.

“Ehh? You don’t strike me as the type that wouldn’t share every idea unprompted.” She told me.

“Spowky expwesion,” the little bartender told her, drawing both of our eyes. She started poofing up as she looked at me, her hair standing up in a way that just couldn’t be done for most people.

The she lion looked at me and said, “I’m not feeling the two cents. If you’re freaking out the Haglet, I don’t want what you’re selling.”

I shrugged with a sigh. There was relief in that. Avoiding the situation was the best way of not being swept up in my nightmare chaos storm horseshit.

“Understandable. It’s a weird bit of trivia anyway, and it makes about as much sense as you're probably expecting it to anyway,” I told them.

“So none at all?” She asked.

“None at all,” I confirmed, taking a sideways look toward the door, looking for my friend.

I found a familiar set of faces, though not the kind that I was expecting. It was the same party that had come in yesterday, the one with the cute girl who had given me a weird look.

She still gave me a weird look, like she knew me, even though I had never seen her face before.

Was she one of the mercenaries? A friend of the Lotus? The mercenary I had met had made it sound like the Lotus was either a person or a group. I recalculated the situation, but I somehow doubted the girl was a mercenary. She was too soft to fill that role, even in the past tense.

There also wasn’t a hatred, just a little fear.

I decided to keep an eye on her, if she was going to stare at me like that it would be hard but I could do it.

Her and her similarly clad party made their way to a booth, though they looked out of place. They had robes on, like whole-ass robes, the same colour and everything. It took my brain ticking for a few moments to realize that there might be something there.

Jade. Or green, anyway. That was one of the tower colours. There was the crazy yellow tower, the blue military tower, the black evil tower, and the green egghead tower.

I would ask her about it later; for now, it was observation time.

I stopped looking directly at her, passing it off as a happenstance moment of eye contact, before drying the surface of the bottle in my hand and letting the reflection from behind me show me everything I needed to.

Reflections were a classic. No one realized how much you could see in a tiny reflection. Doc had once looked at some close-up stills of a target taken by a camera and spotted a reflection in their eye before sketching out a location based on that.

It had been spooky as hell when the information actually worked.

I wasn’t that good, but a bottle was good enough to give me a look.

Keeping her in my vision I asked, “Whats with the green guys? I thought this was a place for the unwelcomed, not the bureaucrat.”

“It’s a public bar. We don’t stop normals from coming in, and it would draw too much attention. Sorry sir, do you like man ass? No? Well, you need to leave now. That would actually bring someone from public morals around. They’re zealous assholes; the jade is alright.” She told me.

“One of them looks at me like she knows me,” I told her.

“Who? She… Oh. Yeah. They’re a regular. They get the same thing every time they come in.” She told me, “Probably a bit shy, is all.”

Shy? Maybe. But the look of slight fear lay that in stark shades. Perhaps I was blind to those two colours, but Mei had been slightly shy, and we had almost slept together, so if the jade girl was shy, I would eat my shoes.

“Sure,” I told her, “Either way, I don’t care much. I’m waiting on someone.”

“The girl from yesterday? Do you know if she's coming?” She asked.

“Nah. I don’t,” I told her, “But I need to make up for ditching her.”

“Damn. You are fucking ruthless, aren’t you?” She asked, tone clearly jibing.

“Wunning with Bubby,” the ‘Haglet’ added, “Pwiorities. Tweat your mistwess well.”

“Duty and honour and all that.” I told her, “Had to fight the ghosts. They were formidable.”

The Bouncer snorted.

“Heh. Yeah right. Ghosts and Ghouls,” she said.

“Spoowky. Spoowkier than not owrdering foowd,” she said giving me a look.

“I have free nuts, don’t I?” I asked her.

“You do, but if your idea of breakfast lunch and dinner is free bar nuts and beer your definitely not going to make it,” the lioness told me.

“Need foowd,” the haglet told me, “Owrder, some.”

She looked at me in a way that was unfair. She gave me the big eyes, the greatest weapon of social manipulation possible. It was the kind of look that made a pregnant woman cry at tiny clothes, a look of something artificially young, its eyes disproportionately big compared to its body.

“You’re using the wrong tool on me,” I told her with all the heartlessness I could. “You’re trying to appeal to my heart; take it into your tiny hands... But are you sure you can hold a broken heart full of black glass and nails without getting blood on you?”

“Fuck. What are you? Thirteen and ‘different’?” The bouncer asked me. “Do I need to get your ID?”

“I’m warning her from cutting her hand on me,” I told her, loquacious and full of myself.

And why not? Why shouldn’t I give into the inner teenager? It was fun sometimes. The only difference between a poet and a teenager was their ability to express themselves with a functioning frontal lobe, and I was a poet at heart.

I probably also didn’t have a functioning frontal lobe, so it was spot on, honestly.

“Wah? Buh, But if you just drink youwre not gowing to make it,” the Bartender told me, unconcerned with my intentional edge but reacting in a saddened look that started to border on crying her big teary eyes.

“Apologize,” the lioness told me, “If you don’t, it will just get worse. You messed up this time; this is on you.”

“Absolutely not. You’re the one who pretends to be a reluctant bedwarmer.” I told her.

“Nu, uh. No way. She was being serious. Those were her serious eyes. She was worried for you, and now she’s going to cry. Oh, ancestors above this is the worst. Half her body weight is just tears.” She said, ruffling her own hair, fingers raking through her colossal mane like plows through the earth.

I looked from her to the big, wet-eyed form of the tiny woman.

It was starting to hurt a little. It tweaked at that tiny sliver of humanity, however macho it was, that there was a crying girl. Worse, she was the height of hold ability, and that made the tiny sliver, those even tinier than my mundane humanity, want to not make her cry ever more because it would make me feel like I made a kid cry, which was weird on more levels than I was comfortable with.

I hated it when women cried and saw the harm come to innocents, and both sides of me saw her all teary-eyed and wanted to kick the shit out of me.

Worse, there wasn’t any guile; she was just teary because she wanted to make sure people were ok, which was even worse because it meant that I was also poking fun at someone trying to do me a good deed.

It took genuine grit not to immediately shatter like a pane of sugar glass.

I sighed because I knew I was beaten and reached over the counter to give her a head pat. An inordinately gentile head pat.

“Fine. Fine. I’m sorry for not taking you seriously, little lady. I can see you take food seriously, so I’ll get some food. Alright? I’ll get food as long as you don’t cry,” I told her, my wince so wide it started to look like a number of other expressions.

Her head was insanely soft, but that was a distraction, one I did my best to ignore, instead focusing on her face. The quiver of her eyes and lips slowed as she looked up at me. Then, her eyes took on a slightly less intelligible look, and she reached up to my hand with her tiny arms.

She looked like a cat, so I pulled my arm back slowly to avoid her ferocious bite.

More of a nip, based on her size, but it didn’t matter because I didn’t get bitten. After a few seconds, her dilated eyes began to un-dilate, returning to normal as she looked up at me. Her breathing normalizing.

I turned to the Bouncer, and she looked at me, uneasiness on her face. We both turned to the tiny woman.

“So what are you eating?” she asked as if I hadn’t almost made her cry and then set her off.

“Holy shit,” the Bouncer murmured, “You disarmed her.”

The words sounded more like we were talking about a landmine as opposed to a person; she was in awe of my incredible skill.

I did not have that skill, but I ribbed her anyway, “Try gaining a little skill while you next warm her bed, furbrain…” I told her before turning to the little bartender who was waiting on me. “I’ll take… I don’t know. I don’t know what you serve. You can pick… As long as it's not too expensive… And get a second,” I told her.

It was a spur-of-the-moment choice, but it brought a smile to my lips. It was the kind of split-second hindbrain decision that told me things were about to get more interesting. Take the left path over the right; don’t turn that corner yet. I’m sure I heard something over there; I should look there.

It was lady luck turning my head, her finger on my cheek, her whisper in my ear.

It was something to either dread or love, something to spur my paranoia or let me know something good was coming my way. A damn subtle thing, but it certainly wasn’t me; I had a shit sense of timing, and me suddenly being spot on was not a very me thing. That was the tell.

She nodded, thinking for a moment before writing something and walking over to the back wall, slipping a note through what looked like a mail slot.

I had wondered how you got an order. There weren’t exactly wait staff to take them.

I could see the bouncer looking at me in the corner of my eye.

“It’s like you turned her off and on again,” she said in confusion, then she said, “I’m going to have to try that.”

“You’re welcome,” I told her.

She seemed to blink at herself before her ear flicked at the woman on my other side who had done something I couldn’t see, as I was at least somewhat turned toward her.

“Hey, I saw that,” she said, swinging out of her seat and turning my head with her.

She walked around behind me and grabbed the woman to my left.

“Whow, hey. Hands off. I didn’t do shit,” she shouted.

“You spiked her drink,” she said uncaringly.

I supposed I was right about her at least being the muscle. Even if she wasn’t a standard bouncer. No door work for her.

“Hey, listen, I- Ahh,” she started, only to be cut off with a shout of fear.

The bouncer picked the offending woman up by the back of her shirt. She scrambled, knocking a handful of glasses over as she was lifted off her seat.

I stared as she picked her up and marched over to the door.

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing? I-” she shouted, only to be shut up by her louder speaking voice. “You’re banned. I am removing you, and you’re not welcome back.”

She reached the door and opened it as the woman struggled, everyone watching as the well-muscled cat woman strongly manhandled a random woman. Her hand pulled the door open, and she waved her hand as if to shoo someone.

“Stop. Put me down, put me down!” she shouted, the music playing from the back, making the entire situation feel surreal.

“Oh, I’ll put you down, but catch some air first, moron!” she told the woman.

She grabbed the back of her shirt and lifted her up, and then, as if she were a ram, she hauled her back and then hucked her out of the front door face first.

Everyone stared as she dusted her hands off and stepped to the side to let whoever was in from the doorway.

A few people clapped. I supposed people liked a drink and a show, but I was more thinking about how far she had thrown her. Luna had gravity, so it wasn’t like she was going to float off into the vacuum of space, but I doubted that would do as much damage, considering there wasn’t artificial gravity here.

And there, shining in the middle as she stepped into the bar, as confused as could be, was Mei, people clapping as if impressed at her arrival.

She looked quite anxious at the happenings, but as she stepped in, I waved at her, a slight wiggle of my fingers in a hello. It caught her attention.

There she was, and she was indeed a sight, even in more reserved casual clothes.

And they were more reserved, the wall flower was back. Considering she was technically military, you would think that would go away, but I suppose they treated their women differently.

If she had grown up on Pallas, she would be… well… Pallas wasn’t very kind to those who stayed.

She stepped toward me, ready to sit down next to me, talk, converse, and perhaps pick up where we left off, only for me to notice movement in the corner of my eye, the same corner that was there to check the reflection.

It was starting to go a bit wonky, with moisture blurring, but I could see them waving.

And as they waved around, Mei turned and noticed them.

Now, I wasn’t a genius when it came to knowing what someone felt by looking at their face alone. I was getting used to the ability to sus them out using the peacekeeper form, and without it, the activity was a total loss.

That said, it was not a happy face. Not at all. It was so bad that I could feel it.

I lost the slight suspicion of the cute girl in the flailing and the warp of the glass, but I was already halfway turned toward Mei, so I turned to keep them in the corner of my eye.

She was pushed into the back. There were, to my eye, two possible threats out of the five of them. One thick fucker who looked like he was contradictory, an Astrologer-Fisher mix and a nerd. If he had any training and I didn’t put a bullet in him fast, he would give me a run for my money because he had many of the same physical traits I did but more muscle.

The second was a slippery-looking Lunatic who had his hair tied up. He didn’t strike me as physically dangerous like the Astro-Fisher man, but he had a look to him. He was lean, but not Lean. The way his clothes bunched showed a passive and ingrained knowledge of how to not get his clothes caught, and I had a feeling he was built like a swordsman under his scholarly robe.

Two of the others had a tall cap with side flaps and readily fit much more into the classic scholarly look. Notably, it was these two who were waving to her. The swordsman was slippery and playing casually, though I didn’t know why. The beefcake had to twist his neck backwards, leaving a book exposed. The cutie with the flower petal print looked like she wanted to die of embarrassment, and it was definitely embarrassment.

Mei looked at them, waving her over, and promptly shook her head. No, instead, she came over to me. Awkwardly not paying attention to the group that so eagerly tried to call her over, casting rapidly aggrieved looks over to me, not that I cared.

I could fold them like cards, assuming they came at me straight.

“Hi, Mei. I’m glad to see you again,” I told her, swinging my legs in to not get in her way, my words bringing a smile to her face as she swung herself onto the stool, a bit of bare calf slipping free as her conservative robe rode up to her knee.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

I felt like I was a bit too intense, so I did my best to not stare, but I was so thirsty I was starting to get delirious.

“Hello again, Amber. Long time no see. Did your outing go well?” she asked a little hurt in her voice, kept in check by genuine interest.

“It went terribly, though I have to admit, it was ok in the end. I wish I hadn’t needed to go; I would have preferred to stay with you, but duty calls, unfortunately, and sometimes duty won’t take no for an answer.” I told her, “I’m sorry I left you high and dry.”

She looked me over, her eyebrows falling slightly as her face softened. A clear and obvious sign that she wasn’t irreversibly pissed at me. There was also a slight flush, which was quite cute.

“I’m a little glad,” she told me, her bookish nature lit behind a veil of bashfulness, “Though I’m also put out. I expect a proper talk. If I can’t get a night, I want all the details.”

That made me wince.

How did one ever approach the subject?

Ghosts are real, and they will kill you??

I can’t explain it because it would drive you insane???

Hell, we would need to have a talk, but I would need to dress it up as some kind of possible thing.

“Yeah, we do need to talk. I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours?” I asked her, doing my best not to give away that I was going to lie straight through my teeth.

“I was trying to. But that can come later. What was the whole, you know?” she asked, miming a throwing motion.

I snorted.

“She tried spiking someone's drink and got the kibosh real quick. I mean, I know they ‘throw you out,’ but she was not expecting that,” I told her.

She let out a very slight ‘huh’ of a laugh, more a movement of her chest than vocal. “She didn’t? Imagine how confusing it was when she opened the door. It's not very wide out there; the woman almost hit me, even pressed to the wall.”

I could only imagine the scene, Mei walking up to the door, only for it to fly open, watching the big woman, hefting the other back, throwing them past, ass flying over tea kettle.

It was certainly a tone-setter.

The idea of the look on her face made me smirk a bit.

“Well, I suppose making it public is a good policy,” she told me.

“Food and a show will win over most people, as will a sharp eye. It’s not like having the tough at the front door makes a difference in her ability to throw someone out,” I agreed.

“Dwink,” the bartender told her, slipping the same beer on the counter that she had drunk the previous day.

The two shared a look, the tiny figure smiling, before she left.

“So what was the whole thing with the people behind us? They friends?” I asked her, suspicious about the lack of pay, though not as suspicious as the table behind me.

“Work acquaintances,” she said, her finger tracing around the rim of her glass, “They invited me out to drink, but I told them I had somewhere to be. I didn’t realize we were going to the same bar.”

“Awkward. I’ll take it they don’t know about, well, you know?” I asked her, making a kind of encompassing gesture toward the establishment.

“No. Thank goodness. I don’t think they would get it if they did,” she told me.

Workplace acquaintances. Great.

“The cute one in the back’s been eyeballing me. She did it yesterday, too,” I told her, “Are they on the up and up?”

“Yeah, as far as I can tell, they’re all normal, though who are you talking about?” she asked, turning to look at them, immediately throwing away any chance of stability.

The blurry shapes in the reflection of the bottle didn’t notice, except the small one in the back and the slippery one.

“Well, if you must look, it’s the small one. Do you see her? Short, a little cute. Flower print?” I asked my companion.

She made a “uhuh” before turning back to me and answered, “No, they’re all on the up and up. I think Akurēn there is just being shy.”

I turned to her as she got back around, and I raised my eyebrow at her. It was another one of those Lunatic words that weren’t in real people's words.

“What does that mean anyway? I’m not a linguistically focused person,” I told her.

“Oh? I’m not sure if I like that. Are you sure you’re not into linguistics? Perhaps literacy? I do enjoy being a literate person, and those things go hand in hand,” she told me, not quite answering me.

“I’m plenty literate. I just prefer comics over epics. I write, you know?” I told her leadingly.

“You? Write? Do tell,” she told me, clearly skeptical but willing to hear me out.

“I write only the finest literature… Pick-up lines are a misunderstood and frequently belittled form of art, and I am nothing if not an artist. An enjoyer of the finer things in life,” I told her.

She looked at me, part amusement, part disbelief.

“You’re silence speaks volumes,” I told her, feigning a wounded heart.

“No, no. Feel free tonight,” she said, turning toward me, leaning in slightly as if she wanted to keep this.

“Well, I suppose I am. Are you?” I asked her, immediately turning it around on her as best as I could.

She looked at me, a little more amusement starting to peak through.

“A little heavy-handed, no?” She asked.

“My hands are quite light right now, actually,” I told her with a wiggle of my fingers. “Though, your chest, on the other hand, that does seem quite heavy. I wouldn’t mind holding them for you.”

That one made the amusement pause for a second as she processed it.

It was, as far as pick-up lines went, incredibly forward of me.

Then again, I was quite a forward person, and we had already decided to see one another naked once. If she wasn’t a person I could be forward with, I didn’t know who I could be forward with.

“That was… Qqqite something,” Lilly told me.

“I think perhaps I wouldn’t mind that later,” she told me a gentile sliver of laughter in her voice, “Though, you should buy a girl some dinner first. Get to know her first.”

A tiny door slip open near enough to the slot, thunking just loud enough to draw my, and thus Mei’s attentive eye to it. Its outline had been cleverly concealed in the wall, part behind the counters and the top and bottom by a well made piece of paneling, a set of bowls was passed out, carried out by two other even smaller cat women, a clear paw handing them the bowls before giving them a loving pat on the head.

They moved their little legs over to the Bartender before bestowing them on her like a sacrificial offering. She took them one at a time, climbing the stool before handing them over to me and then to Mei.

She looked at the bowl placed before her. I did, too, but it was for a totally different reason.

“I howp youw like it,” the woman told us, the two tiny delivery people scrabbling back to the kitchen to receive another pat on the head before the door closed.

“I have never seen this before,” I told her, looking at the Lunatic dish.

“It's curry,” Mei told me.

“Chikwen,” The Bartender told us.

“How did you know I liked Chicken Curry?” she asked me, turning to look at me.

“Luck. I’m just lucky like that,” I told her with a shrug, “I’ve never eaten this before, but it kind of looks like a stew.”

“Kind of,” she told me, looking at the bowl before she daintily plucked the sticks and took a piece of chicken.

She liked it, clearly.

I took a bit and tried it for myself; the sauce is enjoyable, and the meat is tender.

“Not bad,” I said, “Good pick, miss Bartender.”

“You didn’t even pick it?” Mei asked, only for me to shake my head.

“Like I said, I’m just lucky,” I told her, “Sure, I could take credit, but I’m not the one who knew. If anyone, it's lady luck smiling down on us.”

She chuckled, somewhat astounded, “You speak of coincidence as if it were a living thing.”

“Maybe it is,” I shrugged, “I have no clue.”

She looked at me before she asked, “You’re rather upfront, you know that. Not what I expected you to be.”

“Books and covers,” I told her though with a bit of thought I couldn’t say she was wrong, “I have to agree with you, however.

She was easy to open up to. It was unreasonably easy, in fact.

I was being forward, stupidly so. Maybe it was because I had been looking for a dance partner, but a horizontal tango didn’t normally open me up. Was it just the changes? A kind of social openness from being in peacekeeper form? That didn’t sound right either.

“You’re… Familiar, I suppose.” I told her.

“Amber, you are one strange cookie. I can’t say I get it, but you’re familiar as well, though I think that’s mostly because I know what your lips feel like.” She told me, whispering the last bit like others would overhear. A secret between us.

“You’re taking I won’t kiss and tell to an extreme here-” I whispered back, only for her to stick a piece of well-sauced meat into my mouth.

It was quite nice; even if I held the sticks like a total moron, it would be worth every moment. There was even something approaching real spices in it. I mean, it was probably some kind of artificial spice that came in a gelatin paste, but it was still good. Surprisingly creamy tasting.

“Surprisingly good,” I murmured simply, preferring to fill my mouth over speaking.

She removed her sticks, and we dug in, downing chunks of meat, then the rice beneath, then Mei moped up the sauce with the flat bread.

All throughout, though, I could feel the eyes burning a hole in the back of my neck.

Even as we passed the bowls back and the beer warmed up, condensation ebbing away to reveal a clearer picture of the group behind us.

“They’re still staring,” I told her quietly.

She sighed.

“I don’t know what to do about it,” she said, “I wanted to talk. We have plenty to talk about as is.”

I thought about it, trying to figure out which was more expedient.

“You wanted to look over my ring, right? Do you have a history in communications? Any talents? I might be able to converse silently if you have some. We could talk and get them to stop burning a hole in our backs at the same time.” I suggested.

“Artifice, no talents for communication.” She told me.

Artifice.

Whoo boy, that was one hell of a lottery.

The use of material artifacts mostly, but there was quite a bit of extra in there. I bet the collector either had artificers on staff or was part artificer. In theory, I might be if that was true and we were related.

That might explain something about how we could use the sword if that was the case.

In theory, there could be overlap there.

“You trying to figure out how they work?” I asked her.

“We know most of it. I mean planet-wide comms less so, but it's mostly connecting with the ring, and it's transceiver I was interested in. They’re not the same as a normal antenna. Imagine if we could figure out how to make them again…” she said, a focused sigh escaping her as she thought about it.

Ahh

Good old talents.

“I can’t help much with your work, but here, maybe you can figure something out in our time together,” I told her, slipping the ring from my finger so she could take it.

She looked at it like it was a block of gold, but managed to not fall to the great temptation.

“You know, you shouldn’t entice a woman with a ring like this,” she told me.

“Did you sell me out? Because unless you did, I figure you’re a solid pick,” I told her.

“I didn’t sell you out… No reason to do that, though I’ll have to turn you down. So much to do, no time, life to get in the way.” She told me.

“Was it that I’m not on one knee? Drat. My bum knee came back to bite me,” I sighed. I made a motion like my heart had been torn from my chest with a shallow, “Ohh. Oww.”

She slapped my shoulder, “There-there. Try again later… I will take the ring, though, if I may?” She asked.

“Women,” I told her, shaking my head, “Turn you down, but expect to keep all the gifts.”

I passed her the ring, and she began to roll it around, her hands cupping around it in a heart shape, her fingers rotating it, and taking in the surface with her fingertips.

“It’s powered,” she said, “I thought it was.”

“Yep,” I confirmed.

She looked at me. Clearly, thinking I had missed the point. She looked at my hands, then to the rest of me.

“With what? The only one under study is unpowered. What's powering it?” she asked.

“Me, actually,” I told her, “It just works.”

She looked at me, clearly not believing me, but that was fine.

“Sure, because you, amongst the untold billions, are chosen,” she told me, dramatically sarcastic. “I bow to the supreme.”

“I can use them too. And I have a voice in my head that tells me cool stuff. And I have a secret hole that grants me magic powers, too. I’m the complete package,” I told her, not lying but saying it like it was an obvious joke.

After all, none of those things were possible, and one of them was what got you put in the loonie bin when you started wrapping your head in enough metal foil to be worth collecting.

“Yeah.” She said jokingly, “A complete nutjob. Feel free to introduce yourself; I’ll be over when it runs out of power.”

She stared at the ring, entranced by its every shimmer, ridge of the band, and scintillation of the gem's facets. I could practically taste the obsession.

I decided to head on over to ‘introduce myself’ until whatever counted as a battery on the ring lost its charge, and the ring dimmed as she suggested; turning to the group behind us, two of them periodically giving me an offended look. The Mountain and the Rat were too busy ribbing the tiny one over something.

They had snacks. I hadn’t even noticed the tiny folk delivering them. Their tiny forms and footsteps were unheard among the background of casual conversation, distant music, and various forms of cutlery, dishes, and glass.

I took a nibble of the nuts and, at their uncaring inattention, lit up another cigarette as I waited for their attention.

Not much later, the two of them looked at me again and noticed that I was waiting on them. When they realized I was waiting for them, they looked furious.

It was kind of funny; their entitlement was a discourtesy, but only to themselves.

Call it insane or degenerate behaviour, but I did find their feeble anger funny, so I slipped off the stool, leaving the lit cigarette in its tray, driven by drink and not a bit of arrogance.

I walked over to them, my elbow catching the top of the booth. I looked down at the two, who were growing increasingly irate and red-faced. I casually walked over and literally looked down on them.

“Can I help you two tonight?” I asked them, my tone far too sweet.

They could not see the warning signs in my voice. They were too busy with whatever was going on in their head to tell that I was unhinged.

“We have nothing for you,” one said.

I looked at him like he was the most fascinating person in the world.

“You know what, that’s a little funny. I figured you would have something to say, considering Mei came here with me instead of you. You’ve been staring into my back for half an hour, so cut that out, yeah?” I told them.

I saw the two of them consider what was going on, and the rest of the group was clearly more confused as they realized I was talking to their group.

“Or what outsider? You have no weight behind you. We may do what we wish.” He said, still not getting it.

“Or I’m going to ask the big, strong cat woman to start watching you. Staring at women like that is a bad look. You’re acting like a stalker,” I told him sweetly.

The Rat could tell what I was doing. He looked up at me, but the second he saw my eyes, he took me in a second time, tension rising in his shoulders.

“Your word vs ours is a fool's game. You waste our time, taunting us,” he said, clearly trying to get me to leave or to get the two to leave me be.

“Indeed. Leave. Just because you’ve led Lanhu-san here for your own ends doesn’t make you our better. Leave us,” moron one said.

I gave the Rat a look of bemusement.

He, at least, understood what I was doing.

I was fucking with them because they were assholes. Playing with my food, as it were.

“Listen, buddy. I have no betters, and you do not want to make this into a dick-measuring contest. Mei is checking a ring of mine right now, and I guarantee you it's more impressive than yours,” I told him, miming something quite lewd.

That made them red with anger, but a wink at the Rat left him less angry and more suspicious, a slight moustache rounding his face further. The big man was roused from his reading, and the cutie looked like she wanted to throw up at the repeated mention of Mei.

She looked like she wanted to roll out of her own skin, as if Mei was a warding sign.

The two morons stuttered, gasping, clutching at their nonexistent pearls like a bunch of blue-blooded, silver spoon-stroking pricks.

The large man seemed to think about that, as if he were unawares, before a look of dawning comprehension overcame him like… Well, dawn.

He hummed in acknowledgement. Apparently, he liked jokes. Good humour, as it should, won over the forces of uptight bureaucracy.

“Despicable. You shame everyone with your presence alone. Never have I seen a less honourable alien,” the one I hadn’t insulted directly told me.

I ignored them. They were mouth breathers. Instead, I did my best to insult them.

“I can see why you wheel these two out. Easy to pick up, ladies, when you can cart out a few troglodytes. I thought they were extinct, but here are two specimens. You look smart for having them around… and you look that good in comparison. Win-win… Even for you. It’ll be fine, sweat pea; calm down back there; you look like you’re going to be sick.” I said, mostly toward the Rat but also toward the soft little thing in the back.

I was trying to calm her down. Woe be it for me to ruin a girl's night, even a suspicious one, but I was seemingly making it worse.

They looked among them, quickly finding the clear recipient of my statement.

The two insulted morons continued to gape, but the two sentient members turned to look at the tiny figure as she shrank.

I was expecting some kind of idiocy, but when the Rat laughed at her, the big man seemed to be somewhat amused.

“You hear that, Akurēn-san,” the Rat asked her.

“Shut up,” she said, voice dainty, pressing her forehead into the booth table.

“Sweat pea?” the big one said, seemingly more confused at the form of address than the reaction.

The rat started to laugh, poking her repeatedly, asking, “What's wrong, sweat pea?”

The other two were more chuffed, bickering with one another.

One tiny arm punched out, lancing through the booths interior before striking true in the Rats side as he chuckled, coughed, and then winced as he chuckled again. “You don’t need to be so touchy Akurēn-san.”

“I will turn you into a eunuch, Turtle Boy. Think of your ancestors and shut it,” she said, voice dipping.

She looked up to him with detestation on her face and a passionate furry expression in her eye. Thunder.

“Haiyaa… Release your inhibition, little brother,” he said.

Oh. OH. OHHHH.

Shit.

He, not she.

Now, it made more sense. Kind of messing with the poor guy.

He was still cute, though.

“Sorry about that,” I told him, doing my best not to wince. The gut instinct of speech managed to blunt the remaining, “I was damn sure…” in a tone quiet enough it wouldn’t arouse much.

It threw me—way too hard—and it took me a moment to realize why.

Peacekeeper was all about social stuff, soft power, as it were. It was good at feeding me less socially inept things to say, a guiding hand from the back of my head telling me not to taste shoe polish with the same frequency I was used to.

When I looked at them, I saw men, which was true, but that wasn’t what it was working on. It worked on posture, the shape and line of their faces, and their body’s geography—ridges of tension and deposits of important patterns.

Sure, it could slip words into my mouth to get me conversing on autopilot, but it read something very different.

Aka… Akurēn , whatever, was clearly female to it. Body language, profile, and vocal tone were a little deep but not masculine in a way I couldn’t even put together. There was a dissociation between what I now knew and how I was perceiving… And it was going to gnaw at me like a swarm of hungering locusts because, for one person, I was flying blind.

On top of that, I didn’t know how to engage with that. It was a first-contact scenario; I barely had the patterns memorized to talk with a normal woman, let alone someone who existed in a totally unknown land.

It changed everything… And nothing.

I would still be down for a piece of action with him. He was still a cutie, even without a coochie. I didn’t mind here or there; I was flexible like that, though I was trying to envision how you would even go about that.

Using all my alien social instinct let me know that everything about him screamed, 'I'm a bottom, deposit nut inside,' but I had a coochie, no matter what the other disturbed parcel of myself told me.

I had a feeling the two of them were in agreement, but it was my turn in the pilot seat.

I started running simulations, but considering everything going on, the best result I could come up with was to let my form do the talking with her and keep myself composed.

I couldn’t make it worse, surely, so long as I crossed my fingers and asked, pretty please, could the universe keep me out of the shit show.

“You’re lucky you’re not my brother; my brother would think less of you,” Akurēn told him.

“Who amongst us wouldn’t he think less of?” The large man asked.

“You could make a showing if you picked up a stick, Malakai,” Akurēn replied.

“The pen is mightier,” he said, the tone and intonation that of a classic saying.

“Perhaps you’re pen, my pen is a brush, and it is far from mighty,” said one of the morons, the other agreeing immediately.

“I’ve always been partial to the blade, but then again, I don’t have much to say,” I admitted.

“The root of wisdom is knowing you know nothing; now close your mouth before choking on your words,” he suggested.

That was actually kind of classy, as far as ways of telling people to shut up went, anyway.

“I don’t know Malakai; she seems all bark,” the Rat said smugly. It's best to throw her a bone.”

“She seems a dog, Haiyaa,” the second moron said, clearly a dig, though he barely got it out before.

“You’re a dog, and you know no tricks,” Akurēn told him, “The both of you brought her here by acting unwise, and now she wants to eat off our plates. You fucked up, not her. Haiyaa yourself.”

“Cluck all you want, Akurēn. Hounds know better. She comes snarling like a mongrel,” the first moron said.

“And you’re the ones who brought her here,” Malakai told them, “On that, I agree.”

“A dog knows a snake when it sees it,” he snapped back.

“Funny, the snake goes for the bird. It knows its prey fine,” the second moron snaped.

I was starting to get lost in the nonsense words, so I spoke up, “Listen, I just came over because you lot have been giving me the willies, is all. Three of you have been staring at me, and I don’t leave my back open, yeah?”

The collective table had turned on itself and at the moment, turned back to me, two hounds, one monolith, one flushing effeminate man, and one ‘turtle.’

“Ehh?” the Rat asked, “Once bitten, twice shy?”

“Once shot, twice as paranoid,” I corrected.

“You look very healthy for a shot woman,” Malakai said, “Must have been all the clean living you get.”

The three that had been staring at me periodically turned to Malakai, not getting it, though the Rat looked closer and seemed to.

“Holding yourself for a fight, even in a place of peace,” he said wisely, fingers coming to trace along his mustache.

“Walk around with a hunch long enough it stays,” Malakai offered.

“I live cleanly enough,” I told the absolute slab of beef, “And I don’t have a hunch.”

“Indeed you don’t,” said the Rat, a grin revealing the joke without needing to speak it.

“Oh, but I don’t need one, slippery man,” I told him automatically, hooking my thumb back to Mei, “That’s why you get smart friends.”

“Fuiyoh!” he said, a single clap of his hands his only sign of approval beyond the smile. “You have half a mind on loan? Well, at least you have some.”

“What have you come here for? Beyond chastising two lonely hounds and insulting Akurēn. I can see the reason behind you, do not lie.” Malakai said, his gaze overly pointed.

“To break the ice before Mei finishes examining something,” my mouth said, placating him. I didn’t know what he saw, but it struck me as somehow nothing and too much simultaneously.

“Are you bugging them?” She asked, her voice from right next to me enough to nearly jump out of my own skin.

My answer came out as a quarter jump, quarter roll, and half curse as I turned to Mei.

“The tiger is mighty,” said one of the morons sarcastically.

“Mightier than you,” she replied, handing me back my communication ring. “You’re ring. It's out of power.”

I took it, palming it in a way that would block the sight of it, lighting it back up. I could slip it in a pocket and play it off as me having an artifact on me that powered up the ring.

I mean, if people started seeing me just turning them on, it might draw interest to me I didn’t exactly want. Pinky, I trusted, we were rapidly falling into the same ship, and Mei struck me as the kind of woman I didn’t mind giving a little, but random guys? Nah.

“See,” I told the man I had taunted, holding up the ring, “I told you mine was bigger than yours, and if you think this is impressive, you should have seen my sword.”

The thought of my missing limb brought a tear to my eye.

“You’re encourageable,” Mei said with a slight shake of her head, discouraging if it came without the slight smile; just a slight bow of her lip told me all I needed to.

“She is a menace,” one of the hounds told her, the words whipping her amusement from her face.

“That she may be, but you’re a nuisance,” Akurēn murmured.

“Eh?” One of them asked. I was starting to lose track of which one was which. It was uncharacteristic of me, but they were just so extremely boring now that I was face to face that they were forgettable.

The two morons had the same personality, mannerisms and style. They were living up to the twins’ shtick, but they weren’t twins.

“You’ve been staring at people all night,” Malakai pointed out, “and it's rude to stare.”

“I have to agree,” Mei said quickly, slipping in before the two could talk.

Taking a cue from her, I followed: “Of the five people here, three are doing the lifting.”

“What are you insinuating, outsider?” one asked.

“She appears to be suggesting that you’re dead weight,” the cripple said.

“You haven’t eaten, you’re not even talking, and you’ve devolved the conversation to an argument with someone totally unrelated to us, ruining the night for at least two people,” Akurēn said, listing a few points off, their tone not conciliatory at all.

Mei didn’t respond, though she made it, and there was time to do it. She stopped intentionally.

I had a sudden sneaking suspicion fed to me that there was a bit too much conspiracy to her at that moment.

He is at the moment.

Fuck I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

“You’re asking us to leave?” one asked.

“No,” Malakai said.

“Yes,” Akurēn said shamelessly.

“For what? Because a woman who snubbed her nose at us and some fucking street trash?” the other asked. “Them over us?”

“You’re being a shit. And I don’t just mean you, Ang. Chang, you’re also being a shit. Cut it out.” The Rat told him.

“But she-” the second started, taking the singular fold of brain they shared.

“I have standards, you have standards, we have standards. Be better,” he said. She has no standards, so it should be easy, assuming the two of you hadn’t been day drinking to exceed her. Pay your share and sleep it off.”

They stared at each other, the Rat serious, the morons stupefied with a look of stupid disbelief. It was so stupid I needed to use it twice, one for each of them.

At least it explained the two of them. They were acting similar; they were so bland because they were trying not to draw attention to themselves. Their flustering blustering and general tom-fuckery made a little more sense when you took into account that they were probably drunk and just didn’t look like it.

They were, as far as drunks went, not the worst, but like with all drunks, they were a nuance. I hadn’t expected them to turn on these two, but I was pleasantly surprised that they would.

Less than friends but closer than enemies, the two were told to get to stepping so they could work themselves out on their own time. And for some reason, they actually did.

If I had been told to fuck off, I wouldn’t have… Well, I might have, but it would have been dependent on who told me to fuck off.

They did not look happy about it, but they did it. There was a chain of command here, standing between the three of them, and the Rat was above them.

He slid out of the booth to walk them to the door, and it was there I saw what they had meant.

He walked with a limp, and not a minor one; I couldn’t see the damage, but anyone versed in getting hurt could intuit the magnitude, if not the vector.

My mind updated the balance. I would need to see him move, but his general capacity for violence was reduced. He also had a blade on him, which balanced the check.

A fed in a bank lobby or a pack of gunmen in cover the size of a phone booth was one thing, but a noble swordsman in a booth was another.

“Note to self. Do not piss him off inside,” I whispered to myself.

“Noted,” Lilly told me, her voice weirdly harsh.

He made his way back in a shuffle step that indicated limited mobility over a weight-bearing or painful disability.

We stood as he made his way back, but the short distance led him to quickly reach the booth.

“What are you waiting on? Oh… I’ve been improper. Be seated; you need not wait on me. Lads on one side and ladies on the other, eh?” he said, face lighting in a grin as he ribbed.

The one lady took that without animosity; the effeminate one took it with a series of micro-expressions so complex they could not be computed by all the archangels working in parallel, and I simply told him, “Damn… I guess I sit on the table.”

“Hmm, perhaps…” He told me, but I was too busy sliding into the booth, which was acting as a barrier between the currently imploding cutie and the stiffer Mei.

Damn, but there were social dynamics here that I was ignorant of that left everyone slightly ill at ease around each other. Or everyone but Malakai, who struck me as a cultured man who disliked tomfoolery.

I turned to my new seatmate and said, “Sorry about bringing it up. I didn’t put two and two together.” And then, because my mouth was moving without me, I added, “Didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that,” in a whisper.

It was innocuous enough; it could mean anything. But the way it was said was suggestive in a way that couldn’t be picked up on as easily. It was subtle, and with the whisper being drowned out by the loud background of enjoyment, it was for the two of us only.

I didn’t know what I was expecting, but the surprised worry, wasn’t it? But it was enough to confirm to me that there was something to my intuition.

“Yes, well, that’s not an issue, miss. But remember in the future that assumptions make an ass out of you,” Akurēn told me, but loud enough for the others to hear.

That was a smart way of approaching it: I wrapped it up so it sounded like I was only apologizing.

We took our places and talked.

I zoned out for much of it; it was above my head, but I split my time, talking quietly with Mei and the funky Akurēn. I managed to talk to Malakai twice, quickly finding his dispassionate demeanour simply because we weren’t satisfied with what he wanted to talk about, which was, apparently, a bunch of ancient human media. I talked to the rat, who finally introduced himself as Li Wei Kohakame.

As far as making connections went, someone who could make sense of the inordinately convoluted worldview and about 200 years of their history, someone who understood the direct result of ‘strange sickness’ and how it warped people, an artifact researcher, and some kind of agriculture person wasn’t the worst you could do.

It could be three bangers and their bimbo; the fact that there were four useful ties, beyond just being able to spend time with people outside of Pinky, was good crowd work.

We spent an hour with them and then trickled out of the bar. Mei left early, stating that she needed to get to bed, but I managed to get her to come on by on the weekend, which was nice.

I waited on my own after they left, having covered all of the things I needed to do today, spending a little time decompressing from the conversation. I was also waiting for Pinky to check in because, apparently, she was busy.

“Say,” I asked the Lioness. “When should I expect my stuff to come in?”

“Depends,” she told me, her voice rough from a long ass shift and smoke.

I looked at her with a sigh.

“Depends on what?” I asked.

“On if you want to take a job. We could get you your stuff to you and sign you up… Right now, if you’re willing to take a job.” She told me.

“What is this? Express shipping costs?” I asked her.

“Whats your tab look like?” she asked.

It was probably bad. A few drinks were fine, but there was only so long you could stretch a thousand, and with two dishes, it was possibly overdrawn.

“So I get express shipping?” I asked her, my tone changing. “That’s such a great deal.”

She snorted.

“It's not a bonus; we just need someone to do it, and the Dam trusts you for the work you did last night. Damned if I know why,” She said, “I’ll make sure to top off your tab with us. If you take it, anyway.”

“How about we head to a private room, and you give me details? If I’m not right for it, I can at least tell you if it's this urgent.”

“Let’s,” she told me right back.

And like that, I was back in the saddle.