They eventually stood before a set of stairs that led into a metal-brick building, which looked like a large school hall. Above the eaves was a neon blue sign that blinked with the name ‘Fast Food Tavern’.
“I’ll wait outside,” Kami said, and didn’t wait for an answer as he raced off to inspect something of interest to him at one of the buildings nearby.
[He’ll be fine. Let’s go inside] System reassured Veronika.
It was a rowdy tavern they had stepped into, of three levels and wide squarish area cluttered with a lively activity of people gossiping, drinking or heartily eating at many tables.
Veronika raised a brow with interest at one of the corner tables where elderly lakionians, in brown dirt-stained work overalls, were cackling and chatting energetically over a game board where they were placing smooth white tiles down. Smoke was coming out of their mouths like they were chimneys.
System suggested they approach the long bar counter at the far end and order something to eat. As they were approaching the bar, Veronika noticed a few lakionian’s at a table, in another corner, keeping a close watch on their approach.
“What yah want?” A beefy old lakionian, wearing an apron over soft brown armor, grunted when she stepped up to the counter.
Veronika noticed all the lakionian’s had the same dread lock hair colors as the young man who nearly blew her head off with the heavy plasma gun.
[Their hair colors suggest they’re all from the same family kotta] System commented.
“Kotta?”
[Lakionian term for clans. Their tribes are built from family clan units]
“They’re all related?”
[More or less]
Veronika returned her focus on the cranky looking bartender, who would probably shoot her head off if she made him impatient.
“What food do you have, I can eat?”
“Shit.” The bartender cackled.
She sighed as she faced him with a wry expression. “Ale. You have that?”
“One shit ale coming right up.” He grunted with laughter and pulled out a bottle from beneath the counter to plonk it before her. “12 credits.”
[There’s a credit card in your left pocket. Hand him that]
Veronika nodded and handed him her card that was black and bearing the Concordat’s white eagle logo.
“Pish. Concordat credit.” He shook his head as he turned away to ring up the transaction on a terminal behind him.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
As he was handing it back to her, the card was slapped out of her hand. She frowned as she went to abuse the attacker and came face to face with the young guard who had nearly blown her head off at the gate.
“We don’t take that shit here. Get lost, Casey Fodder!” He stood before her with his body twitching for a fight.
The tavern became quieter as people took noticed of their exchange.
“Oh, so you’re gonna pay for my drink then?” She stood definitely before him with her arms folded over her chest.
The young guard answered by tipping her mug of ale all over the scuffed floorboards.
“You know he has to clean that up.” She thumbed toward the bartender.
“Lick it up off the floor.” He came back at her. A couple of other lakionian men approached his back to support him.
“How about I clean it up with that mop head of yours.”
[Veronika. Ready your brush and prepare to fight a mob]
The men whipped out their heavy guns and sub-machine guns and aimed them at her.
Scot stepped before her to block their attacks. “Readying combat.”
“Sheeze, Scot. I can handle it!” She was once the great Wu Chen! No one would get the better of her, especially these ruffians.
At this point the entire tavern area had their attention on them and a few of the armored men surrounded their flanks with guns aimed in their direction.
[... searching for an escape route]
But Veronika wasn’t going to back down and pulled out her brush-pen. Damn it, she had only walked into the bar.
“Prepare to be sorry with my godly move. It’s nuclear!” She cockily roared before the men as she raised her brush-pen for an attack.
Silence went around the room as everyone paused with their trigger fingers ready to go. It was clear they weren’t sure what to make of her tiny weapon-pen.
“STAND DOWN!” An older man entered her view. She sensed dignified intelligence from his three bright green eyes. He was smartly dressed in a black leather jacket, white collar shirt tucked in dark jeans and heavy leather boots. His dread lock hair was held together in silver braids to form a high ponytail. There was a strong resemblance to the young guard.
“Creed, put your gun away.” He directly addressed the young guard, then cordially gave Scot a bow. “I apologize for my men’s welcome, Starcharter Biodroid.”
“Father, she’s a Concordat soldier!” Creed pointed at Veronika.
“Whom you allowed into our town as our guest. And she’s clearly in the care of a Starcharter biodroid. Do you want to be responsible for a blow-back?”
Creed growled out his complaints but obeyed his father and returned his sub-machine gun to his kinetic back holster. The others dispersed to return to their previous business at their tables, but the mood was more sober and careful.
Scot disengaged his combat readiness. “Apology accepted.”
“My name is Kran, biodroid. I am Junkyard Town’s spokesman.” Kran cordially introduced himself to Scot and added, “Forgive my son. Our young guns don’t hold kindly to Concordat Forces.”
Kran eyed Veronika carefully, but continued to speak to Scot. System suggested that she remained quiet and take the moment to observe situations.
“Fine by me.” Veronika thought and pocketed her brush-pen. She folded her arms over her chest as she leaned on the bar to watch the exchange between the lakionian and biodroid.
“Please, if you would, allow me to escort you to my table, and we can talk.” He extended his offer to Scot.
“Does that include me, or should I wait at the bar and play with your young guns?” Veronika piped in, unable to hold back her cheek.
“Concordat Forces, I would rather keep my bar, and you where I can see you.” Kran nodded and led them through the laze of smoking patrons at tables to enter a side room where a lone table was at the center.