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23. The Candid Cantina

23. The Candid Cantina

New guests had arrived inside the cantina, which meant that Pollum Mock was primed for a sale. The bartender folded out his many arms and waved them forward, a huge toothy grin on his football-shaped bald head. At first, his new patrons seemed reluctant to oblige him, but after a moment the one wearing all green stepped forward and the rest followed suit. “Welcome customers, to my place of business!” Pollum declared, gesturing to the scenery. “I haven’t seen your kind before, what sector of the cosmos did you lot crawl from?”

The one with the yellow hair opened his mouth for a moment before promptly shutting it- it seemed like it took him a lot of effort to do so. They all looked like a mondeyr in a starship’s headlights, trying desperately to decide whether or not they should run or just stand still. Almost out of habit they all turned to the one that was missing half his tie. “Uh…” He stammered. “… I don’t…”

“We came from… far away?” The one wearing the tattered coat blurted. “Like, in that direction?” He pointed at the ceiling, his face wincing as he regretted all the actions that he had taken in his life to lead him to this point.

Pollum nodded. “Ah, I see, ya don’t want ta tell old Mock where’s ya from, aye? I gets it, I do! The Ring ain’t exactly a place where ya want to tell people where’s ya live, is it? But it doesn’t matter, as long as ya’ll are drinking, that’s what I say!” He raised his arms a gestured towards his collection of bottles on the shelf behind him. “What can I get you, my secretive friends?”

It was at this point that they all realized that they had no money to their name, in fact, they didn’t even know how money around here worked. “Oh, no, we’re just meeting a friend!” Alex chimed in, making something up off the top of his worried head.

“Oh really, what’s their name? I know the name of all my regulars here, got a memory like a Molluian up here.” The bartender gestured to his head with gusto.

Alex hadn’t prepared that far ahead. “Well, um, they’re ah… ah…” He looked worriedly at his friends. “…coming later? Yeah, they’re new here like us and they’ll be around shortly!”

“Alrighty!” Pollum declared, way louder than anyone would have liked. “I know that ya lying to me, but I don’t care- it comes with the territory here at the Candid Cantina!” Alex’s face couldn’t help but drop, his heart doing a similar thing at his feet. “Since ya don’t want to pay for nothing I’m just gonna let you guys go about your business, but next time I see ya I expect you to at least buy something before snooping around the place, alright?”

Neil felt the hair on the back of his neck raise as the bartender gave them a kind, yet somehow intimidating smile. “Sure thing.” He muttered as the group quickly scuttled away from him.

A song was playing in the air as they secluded themselves into a dark corner, it was full of what sounded like synth music but in actuality, it was just a robot singing opera. Neil made sure to place himself in the darkest part of the corner while Timothy stood out in the open, not realizing that they were trying to hide. “What the hell do we do?” Sophia asked, looking to her friends for any sign of a plan.

“We just have to walk around, see if we see anyone that looks like they will help us.” Alex tried to straighten his tie but fumbled at nothing seeing how it wasn’t all there anymore. “Maybe look for someone who seems… nice?”

Neil surveyed the room, a lady with two heads was splitting what appeared to be some form of stringy meat between herself- like a really weird version of Lady and the Tramp. “How do you classify ‘nice?’”

“Hmm, I know that you guys are anxious about this but everyone in here seems nice, don’t they?” Timothy put with a smile. “I mean that bartender was rather lovely, wasn’t he?”

Suddenly from behind him the sound of glass smashing sprang out from the gentle hum of the crowd. “You’re gonna give me what you owe me, or this isn’t going to be pretty!”

From the other side of the bar, a woman with blue skin and long hair was holding a shattered glass in her hand and pointing it at an even bluer man wearing some raggedy leather armor. “Look babe, I don’t know what to tell ya!” He shrugged his shoulders smugly. “You win some you lose some, that’s all I can say!”

Sophia shook her head. “Yeah, I think that may have been a fluke, Timbo.”

“Alright guys.” Alex said, turning their attention away from the fight. “Let’s split up, we’ll cover more ground that way.”

“What?” Neil exclaimed, his voice cracking in a way he wished was slightly less embarrassing. “Are you crazy, have you never seen a horror movie before? Splitting up always gets someone killed or eaten or kidnapped or…”

“Really? They make movies just for horror?” Timothy was intrigued, he had no idea there were different types of films before, he’d always assumed that they were all the same. “That’s fascinating!”

“Yes, fascinating and true to life!” The scared boy counted. “Look, I know I’m being paranoid right now, but can you blame me? We’re in an alien bar in the outer reaches of space, why on earth would we split up?”

“Because we’re not on earth!” Sophia said, crossing her arms. “And if we want any chance to get back there, we’ve gotta get out of here first!” She looked at her friends and bit her lip. “Neil, take Tim with you, me and Alex will split up and cover more ground.”

Neil looked up at his blond friend, not the safest companion to have but he was better than nothing- anything was better than being alone again. “Fine, we’ll cover the right side and you guys cover the left, let’s cross our fingers and hope none of us get infected or something.”

Together but apart, the group of friends split up to cover more ground. Neil made sure he kept close to Timothy, not only for his own comfort but also to make sure that he didn’t introduce himself to the wrong person. Alex walked over to the side of the bar, making sure that his movement wasn’t too noticeable to direct attention. Sophia, as calmly as possible, strutted over nearer the back of the bar, hoping to get a better view of its patrons.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Look Neil!” Timothy said, grabbing his friend by the arm and making him nearly jump out of his skin. “They look friendly!”

The boy had pointed to a figure sitting at a table. They were wearing a long pale coat along with a small helmet that completely covered their face and features. On the table, they held a pen and were idly stabbing it between their fingers- nearly hitting themself with each and every attempt. “Why do you say that?” Neil asked, keeping his distance.

All he got in response was a shrug.

To Neil’s dismay, he found his friend walking over to the figure with the confidence that only Timothy could seem to muster. He wondered how his friend did that so effortlessly, he would admire the skill if it weren’t so reckless and stupid. “Hello, my name is Timothy!” He said, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you!”

The figure in the helmet stopped his stabbing and turned to gaze at the strange boy. Neil felt he should probably step in but instead he stepped back as if preparing for a bomb to go off. “Did you… just introduce yourself?” The voice sounded normal if a bit muffled coming through the helmet.

“Yes, I think so.” Timothy frowned. “Although I’m not sure about the handshake. I’ve been worried that perhaps there is some other form of greeting around here, like a bow or maybe a curtsey?”

“Hmm, you better curtsey just to make sure.”

“Oh, alright.” Timothy did his best attempt at a curtsey- and was surprisingly really good at it.

“Wow, you actually did it, how delightful.” The figure laughed and extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Timothy. Typically, people on the Ring are a bit sterner when it comes to introductions. The first time someone said hi to me here they said ‘oy, you, whatcha got on ya!’ I found that a little bit prying if I do say so myself. The second time I was greeted with a knife to my throat and a fellow saying ‘your credit or your life!’ I think the first one was a little kinder but the second one has the benefit of directness so it’s hard to say.”

Timothy gladly accepted the handshake. “Well, I’m glad to hear I’ve broken the trend! What did you say your name was?”

“Oh, you can just call me WaldAcker. That’s a capital W and the second A is also capital, don’t ask me why it’s just how it is.”

“Nice to meet you, WaldAcker! Do you mind if I sit down, I’m afraid I need to ask a favor!”

To Neil’s surprise, Timothy wasn’t immediately blown away by the strange figure. Somehow more surprisingly, he watched as his friend took a seat at the man’s booth and started having what appeared to be a lovely conversation. How the hell?

Over on the other side of the cantina, Alex’s eye caught a familiar face. Jenny McClain was seating in a corner booth along with her three little crewmates. Below the table sat the giant container that he had seen earlier, Bleg, Qleg, Gleg must’ve carried it all the way over here from the ship. Across from the pirate captain, in a suit that could only be described as ‘rich,’ a man sat relaxed with a coy smile along his watery lips. I say watery because his head resembled that of a giant tentacle- with little grey limps twisting around at the top to give him the resemblance of hair. His eyes were sunken and dark, and he appeared to have no nose, only a mouth that was currently busy speaking.

“So, I see you’ve got the shipment?” The man’s voice was squishy and sloppy like he was talking through a bucket of water stuck in his throat. “I hope the people who stole it from me in the first place didn’t give you much trouble.”

“No, just some scrappers lookin’ to make a big payout,” Jenny spoke. Alex could tell she wasn’t her usual dominant self. “Handled them quickly.”

“Good, was the shipment damaged?”

“See for yourself.” Jenny kicked the container over to the man’s well-adorned feet.

Slowly the man reached down and popped the lid wide open. Alex could see a faint blue glow light up his face- the man smiled. “All there. Well done, I would hate if anything were to be… missing.”

Jenny smirked. “No, wouldn’t dream of it, Vander.”

“No, don’t call me by my name.” Vander’s already squishy face tightened up into a disgusted expression. “I hate it when rift-raft use it. ‘Vander Extemorst’ is a name used in better society, you can just call me ‘boss,’ or something like that.”

Alex watched as Jenny gritted her teeth. “Yes… boss.”

Strange. Thought the boy hiding in the crowd. Didn’t take Jenny for someone who answered to anybody.

“Now about your payment, we agreed on 3000 credits but I’m afraid you were late, so it drops to 1500.” Extemorst put blankly.

The crew didn’t like that one bit. “What?” Shouted Bleg, nearly standing up from the table.

“What do ya mean, late?” Qleg banged his fist.

“It was clearly in the contract you signed, see?” The businessman reached into his pocket and retrieved a small disk. Pushing a button on the center a giant glowing document appeared floating above it. “Right there, see, right next to your captains’ signature?”

Gleg squinted his eyes. “I can’t see nothing.”

Extemorst snorted. “I can’t be held liable for your failing health conditions, and besides, it was your boss that agreed to the arrangement.”

Jenny’s hand was resting on the side of the booth, Alex watched as the material crumbled and bent as she squeezed her fist. “You’re a bastard, you know that?” She spat.

“I’m not a bastard, just a man doing business in an unreliable place.” Despite Alex not being in the conversation he still felt resentment at the man’s giant grin.

Sophia had stumbled to the side of the bar where the lady and the man were still busy hashing out their disagreement. Quickly the girl slipped into a seat and kept an eye on them, hoping that when they left, she could more easily find a person to help her out. The fight seemed like it had been going on for a long time, the other patrons had already begun to lean in- trying to figure out who’d win.

“You scrapper, I gave you a service and now you’re bailing out of the bill?” The woman cried, gesturing towards him with the sharp end of her broken glass.

“I ain’t agree to pay ya for it.” The man grinned and Sophia felt like throwing up. “I thought it was just a hand-out, ya know.” He gestured to the crowd, trying to get their support.

“If you think that you can pull one over me you have another thing coming, honey.”

“Oh yeah, whatcha going to do? Call Mr. Ham on me? Then what, how you gonna prove it?” He laughed. “Though I’d like to see ya try!”

The woman gripped her glass firmly. “Look, I’m short on cred and I ain’t messing around!”

“Tough luck, broad!”

She took a deep breath. “Duel!”

The man chuckled. “What?”

“Clean your ears, I said I want to duel!”

The man looked down at the small piece of glass that she was wielding in her hand, his eyes then turning to look at his own side where a pistol hung in his belt. “Heh, sure you wanna do that? Why don’t you just take your loss and leave, I’m sure there’s other guys out there looking for your ‘services.’”

“Oh, I’m quite sure, honey.” The woman gritted her teeth.

The man laughed. “Alrighty then, I’m not the one who started it.” He looked at the others for confirmation. “I accept.”

Confidently the man reached down for his gun but at the same time didn’t notice as the woman similarly reached inside the top of her dress. With a simple motion, the woman dropped the small piece of glass in her hand and pulled out a gun- which she promptly unloaded into the man’s head.