Avoiding Trouble & Paperwork
MOTE Prompt Response
Rafi and Zeke stared at each other.
“What in the endless black void are they doing back in my bar?!” Rafi grumbled.
“I have no idea. They know what will happen. Maybe they’re more desperate than we thought.”
Rafi frowned at the four individuals who had just strolled through the entrance to the Wandering Fox. “Can we just shove them out an airlock now and save ourselves the trouble of excess paperwork later?”
“Trust me, I’d love to save on paperwork, but to give us cover and make sure they never step foot on this station again, we have to do this the ‘proper’ way. Lemme call security and let them know to be on the lookout and have a couple of them come up here. Meantime, serve ‘em, but make sure they know they’re not welcome here or anywhere on the station.” Zeke pulled out his datapalm and sent a quick message to his head of security.
“Will do, boss. I’ll keep you posted. Here’s hoping they don’t trash my bar like last time.” Rafi went back to cutting up citrus.
The three men and one woman in question ignored Zeke and Rafi and made their way to an empty table in the back of the pub. One of the men strutted over to the bar and slapped his hand on the bar top.
Zeke watched from his seat at the end of the bar as Rafi, his face schooled into a bland expression, made his way slowly down the bar toward the arrogant man. By the time Rafi got there, the man’s face was beginning to turn red.
“Finally!” the man exploded. “What’s it take to get some service in this dump?”
“Welllll,” Rafi drawled, “for starters, it takes not trashing my bar, and getting your asses out of here. But, besides that, what can I get you?”
Zeke didn’t think it was possible for the man to get any redder, but now he practically glowed.
“Hey, Durham. Quit yakking and just get the damn drinks!” one of the other men called from the booth. Zeke raised an eyebrow. This was a different attitude than the last time this little group had been on Glasvyr Station. Whatever happened between then and now, must have made them desperate.
Durham turned to glare at his companion but didn’t say anything. Rafi waited for the order, his expression still bland.
“Three beers, and something fruity and froofy for the lady,” Durham growled.
Without answering, Rafi turned, pulled three beers from the cooler under the bar, dropped them onto the counter, and began pulling out various mixers and liquors along with fruit syrup. Once the drink was made, Rafi popped the tops off the beers and slid everything over to Durham who tossed his credit chip onto the bar.
“56 credits,” Rafi said. He tapped the chip against his terminal and handed it back to Durham.
Durham’s eyebrows had gone up at the price, but after a glance back at the booth, he opted to stay silent once again. Grabbing one beer and the fruity drink, he deposited those in front of the woman, and the man who’d told him to hurry up. Rafi continued to stare at Durham as he came back for the remaining two beers. His arrogance gone, Durham snatched the beers off the bar and walked quickly back to the booth.
After a few seconds, Rafi made his way back down to Zeke’s end of the bar. “Well, his attitude changed quickly, didn’t it?” Zeke commented.
“Yeah. Not sure what’s going on, but I don’t like it,” Rafi replied.
“Well, they do seem less inclined to piss me off this time around,” Zeke noted.
“Maybe. I still don’t trust them,” Rafi muttered.
The door to the pub slid open and two large men in security uniforms, side arms in clear view on their belts, walked in. The one in front gave Zeke a short nod and the two men sat down at a table situated between the back booth and the door to the pub. Rafi poured two non-alcoholic drinks and set them, along with two menus, down for the security guards. Durham and his companions appeared uneasy at the guards’ choice of tables and a hurried, whispered conversation among them started almost immediately. The two security guards ignored the conversation, and the worried looks directed their way, and sipped their drinks while perusing the menus Rafi had left with them.
After a few minutes, Rafi went back over to the guards and Zeke saw a quiet exchange before Rafi took their food orders. Rafi gave Zeke a nod and entered the orders into his terminal before making his way back down to Zeke.
“Banion knows our friends, and says he’ll give them twenty-four standard hours to get off the station, and he’ll make sure they’re on the restricted list for us,” Rafi said.
Zeke caught Banion’s eye and sketched a brief salute. The restricted list meant that only in a life-threatening situation would Durham and his buddies be allowed back on Glasvyr Station. And even then, they would be restricted to the docking bay unless their ship was deemed unhabitable by Zeke’s maintenance crews.
Banion returned the salute and pushed his chair back. He made his way over to the back booth and leaned on the table, looming over Durham and the man who’d yelled at him about the drinks. Zeke couldn’t hear what was said, but he assumed Banion made appropriate warnings and threats because the color drained from all four faces. The woman tried to disappear into the corner of the booth and didn’t meet Banion’s eyes. The three men attempted to maintain an air of confidence but eventually avoided eye contact altogether. Banion rapped one hand on the table signaling the end of his comments, gave a curt nod, and returned to his table.
Durham and his companions hurriedly finished their drinks and stood almost simultaneously. As they threaded their way through the tables to the door, they avoided eye contact with everyone, but especially Banion and his colleague. Once the pub door slid closed behind them, Zeke walked over to the guards’ table.
“Thank you, guys. Lunch is on me. Let me know if they cause any more trouble.”
“No problem, boss. Like I said, they’re on the restricted list now, so we shouldn’t be seeing them again,” Banion said with a small smile. “And thanks for lunch.”
“My pleasure.” Zeke shook hands with the guards.
“Well, that went better than I expected,” Rafi said.
“It did. It did, indeed. Okay, I gotta get back to the office and paperwork that doesn’t involve airlocks,” Zeke said.
“Have fun, boss!” Rafi said with a smirk.
******
This week’s challenge came from Fiona Grey: “They know what will happen. Maybe they’re more desperate than we thought.” You can find her response to her challenge, along with everybody else’s over at More Odds Than Ends. Check ‘em out!



I suppose that it'd be "over-the-line" for Rafi to add "something" to their drinks. [Twisted Grin]
Awesome hook, Ms. Becky. 👏 Whenever you write more in this setting, I'll be lined up to read it. 🫡