...and now, we wait...
28 Nov 2022James Teague
--Location: Baturin Hub, Inti; the day before the 'Stargoid' arrival--Anticipation is a hell of a thing. You know for a fact that things as we know it will change; nothing can be done. You even know when this will happen, and that makes the time crawl that much slower...harder to fill....
The large round ice cube clinked against the glass as I downed the last of the bourbon. My corner table offered a great view of the lounge as well as the surrounding tables and the large window; the visible starfield now accentuated with a green spiral. People gathered in small groups, pointing and whispering. The tension was palpable; a fog that reduced raucous laughter to chuckles, banter to whispers. The Frontier Supplies dealer was busy; scrambling to sell off the last of his stock before closing up shop - and he didn't have long before his store's bones were picked clean. People were scurrying to and fro; some with baggage and families, to the Apex counter. Others were moving towards the long line at the hangars, anxious pilots and passengers waiting for their salvation to take them hither and yon.
I waved at the bartender, raising my glass. She sauntered over casually and cheerfully, a radiant distraction from the hubbub. "Another bourbon, Commander?"
"Old Fashioned," I replied. A soft 'ping' came from her datapad as I raised my wrist to it, credits transferring merrily away. She winked, smiled, and went to procure the drink without another word.
I turned back to watch the crowds. I wondered if I had made the right decision...staying instead of leaving. Guardian systems or systems with Guardian brokers were out of the question, as I figured those would be the first to go. My usual, less aboveboard haunts had all packed up shop or gone off the 'Net. That left the black...and I figured my chances out there wouldn't be any better than in the population. Safety in numbers.
Now I found myself in a squeaky-clean, well-patrolled station, no black market, nothing to keep me entertained except the milling crowds and a drop-dead gorgeous bartender. Not my best decision, but as I heard her laugh, definitely not my worst...
As if on cue, another rocks glass appeared before me, along with another dazzling smile and whiff of exotic perfume. I always tipped well, and apparently it was appreciated - I had an almost full glass. I took a pull; the strong, sweet concoction hitting that just-right spot. I nodded my appreciation and watched her saunter back to the bar and the rest of the barflies. I always hated to see them leave, but in some cases, it was just as sweet to watch them walk away...
My appreciation of the female form was interrupted by a muffled ping from inside my jacket. I pulled out my datapad; my first mate, Ty McKnight, reported the Angel's Envy was refueled, resupplied, and ready. I texted instructions to keep the ship at low power in case a quick getaway was needed, and received another ping in response. Ty had become one of the few souls I trusted in the 'verse, his ability as a fighter pilot was only matched by his knack for getting in and out of places undetected - a true feather in my cap, given my usual line of work. I sent another message; I would be onboard as soon as the line for the lifts got to something manageable.
But for now...another drink...and the inevitable anticipation.