Finding the ‘Rambler - Tavern and Inn’ wasn’t difficult. What was difficult was getting over the smell. I guess that even on a space station water is at a premium and the patrons didn’t look like people who could afford it. The ceiling fans worked overtime but it was like trying to combat a wildfire with a bucket brigade. To be fair, I hadn’t had a shower in what? Five or six days I guessed. It was a bit rough trying to keep track of the 24 cycles with my whole weird mining and sleeping schedule. It was a bunch of days either way, so I wasn’t sure I was in a position to judge.
I needed information about my ‘new’ reality and in my experiences bars were some of the best places to get them. The setup was like many bars that were crammed into spaces that were not designed for them. The actual bar was kinda small and the tables around the room were too close together. Add into that equation the 50 or so people that were currently in the establishment and you get the picture.
I hustled my way through the crowd consisting mostly of Quirt but there were also other races mixed in. Or were they other species? Some wore the same jumpsuits that I was sporting. Actually I learned in my study whatever the ship computer would give up that these things were called vacuum protection suits or vac suits. The material was more stable than any kind of fabric and could resist a lot of impacts, the helmet could fold out and the faceplate would seal automatically when a drop in pressure under a certain threshold was detected.
Other occupants of the Rambler wore slightly different, more uniform looking outfits. And yet others were half naked or wore more bulky suits that seemed to be made of metal. Armor I guessed.
I pushed my way through the people and eventually made it to the bar where I even managed to get the bartender's attention. He didn’t seem happy to be disturbed from the conversation he had struck up with a group of three of the uniformed people.
“What can I get ya?” He grumped.
“Sorry, my first time on this station. A drink and some information if you can spare the time.”
“What d’ya drink?”
I realized I had no clue what I was drinking but I assumed that ordering water was a reason for him to be offended. And in my experience you don’t want a bartender that looked like a level boss and could hopefully provide you with information to take offense to you. So instead I gave him a smile.
“You are the pro here. I trust your judgement.”
He grunted something, turned around, grabbed a metal cup and dunked it into a steaming pot that was sitting on something that I guessed was a stove top. Then he unceremoniously plunked the cup in front of me.
“2 ICU.” He pronounced ICU like eek-you. Not sure if that was the standard way of saying it but I better check my own vocabulary if I didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb.
The liquid in the cup was light brown and a little thicker than water would have been. Not sure what it was but it smelled alcoholic. The runoff from using the cup as a ladle was gathering in a small puddle around it.
“Food?” he asked.
“Nah, thanks. I am good for now.” I wasn’t sure that the things he would serve me were anything that I would want to put into my body.
I checked the timers I had set up to keep track of my food and drink needs. Yeah, still good.
“Information costs as well.” he rumbled at me.
I nodded thoughtfully. I had some money to my name but I had no desire to burn through it all at once. “How much?”
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He grinned for the first time. “Let’s see what you want to know and I tell you what the charge is.”
“Hm, I need to figure a way to make some creds here. I need to upgrade my ship and I need to figure out a way around.”
“Wow, sounds more like you need life lessons than information.” He guffawed. Then I saw a look of suspicion cross his features and he added: “How come you don’t know the basic shit?”
I sighed. Stick to the story Kade. “Honestly, I don’t know. I can’t remember anything before waking up in a ship in the belt and being told to get to work.”
“Never heard of anything like that.” He shrugged. “Whatever, not my business. Blasted lucky for you to end up in a ship at least though.”
I had the feeling he didn’t buy my story fully but he also didn’t prod. Thank the gods for small favors. The other thing I noticed was the shadow of annoyance or anger that crossed his face when he said that I was lucky to end up in a ship.
“Okay, see the terminal over there?” He pointed at something that looked like a mix between a wardrobe and an old world ATM. “That’s the bulletin box. You can find jobs and used equipment and whatever else you want on there. You can either plug in or just use the holo-UI. There is also a Grelic” - he spat the word out with some disgust - “on station running a shop for equipment and ships. I would stay away from him if I were you though. Never sure where his stuff comes from.”
I nodded and lifted my drink. It smelled slightly sweet. I took a small sip and was assaulted by a flavor that was a combination of sweetness, strong alcohol and a hint of piss.
I swallowed, grimaced and looked at the bartender who in turn eyed me expectantly.
“Wow, that is some nasty shit.”
Apparently that was the right thing to say because he starting laughing. A big belly laugh. The closest thing to humor I had seen so far in my time in the game. Then he slapped one of his oversized hands on my shoulder which lead to my left arm going numb and my health bar informing me that I had just lost 2% HP.
“Y’are alright shorty! And don’t worry, it grows on ya. What’s ya name?”
“Yeah, like a fungus I imagine.” I grimaced and he bellowed another laugh. “Name’s Solo, Malcolm Solo.”
“Ralgau, your friendly neighborhood bartender” I smacked his big hand on the bar top.
“Not your place then I figure?”
“Ha,” he snorted. “Not in a million years. For one it is stationbound. I am a free spirit and need to be moving. And on top of that, you know,” he conspiratorially leaned closer and dropped his voice to a whisper “it’s a shithole that I would never want to have my name associated with except in passing.”
After some further back and forth I learned that he used to have his own ship and used to freelance. However at some point something happened and he lost his ship and got stranded here. I tried to find out a little more about his story but while he was a fun enough fellow, when it came to this part of his past, he just scrunched up his face and shook his head.
Besides that, I had learned some more about Belt Station and the people running it, the mining operations in this system, the major corporations involved and a slew more random information that I didn’t know would ever prove useful.
Over the course of the conversation I had also finished the concoction Ralgau had served me without really noticing. Guess he was right, it does grow on you. I was just hoping that my comeback to his statement would prove to be just my imagination.
By now my food debuff was about to come up and I decided instead of chancing it here, I would rather have a nice cappuccino meal bar on my ship.
“Ralgau I am heading back to my ship. Will be back in a while to check the bulletins but I want to catch some shuteye before that.”
He put his right arm on the bar, hand in my direction and palm up. Since yer new, ya get a discount. Let’s say 20 total.”
Sounded fair to me. Not sure if that was actually discounted or not but it wouldn’t break my bank.
“Sounds fair. Uhm…”
He must have guessed my problem because he grabbed my right wrist and swiped it over his. My interface informed me that I had just lost 20 ICU. Okay, so that’s how you pay in the game.
I said my goodbye and headed back to the ship. Once there I made sure that the airlock was locked, grabbed a meal bar, had a delicious cup of water and then hit my bunk.