Belly up to the Bar (C 1.4, H 1.5)

Usually, when Mikkie takes the ring, I'm not concerned about the outcome of the fight. Usually, I don't care what happens. Usually, I prepare for the influx of drink orders to roll in after the outcome, whatever way the fight goes - rounds of celebration or shots of sorrow.

This time, though, is different. This time whatever happens is my fault. If Mikkie wins, I killed Caspian. If Caspian wins...it's strange, but there's part of me that almost worries about it, about the idea of not having Mikkie around. He terrifies me still, but he's also like me. Who else understands the Whispers like I do?

When I notice the glass left on Mikkie's table, untouched, I see a double opportunity. I'm not about to let a drink like that go to waste, even if Mikkie didn't do what I asked. I head over to pick it up and then head toward the VIP lounge, conveniently close to the fighting pit so I can watch the fight myself. If the Vaulter's hired muscle stops me, I'll tell them I have a drink for Wells Fargo and it's expensive enough that they'll believe it.

Helix,
Truist moves to block your entrance into the VIP area, but you show him the glass and he knows better than to get in the way of that.


Wells is sitting by Jay Pee and they're watching the upcoming fight on the flat-screen TV in the VIP area. Wells takes the drink from you without a thought - he knows who you are, vaguely, and he trusts Blackjack. He doesn't thank you or anything, but he does nod to Truist to tip you on your way out.

What do you do?

I'm not usually the type of server that sticks around and makes small talk. Blackjack wants me to flirt more, like Dakota, I know that, but it's not my nature. In this day of unusualness, though, I actually want to stick around to talk to Wells Fargo. I'm just not sure how.

My eyes go to the TV screen. "Do you have money on the Rafter or the Boater?"

I nod in agreement. "I guess now we know why you're sitting in the VIP suite and everyone else is out there." I try to smile, but that comes even less naturally to me than this attempt at flattering chit-chat so I stop fighting for it and remain taciturn. "I thought for a while that one of the Sipps might challenge him, but after they lost Hard Strike I don't think they have a chance." I watch him carefully from my periphery, still keeping my attention ostensibly focused on the TV screen, but I want to see his reaction to my mention of the Sipps' lost leader.

I shake my head slightly, "'not like that. He's crew... I know it doesn't look that way." I follow his glance at the hatch. "Somehow I imagined you'd end skipper of a boat. You're good out on the water. But... yeah, you look like you're doin' all right."

I watch the last of the cargo being loaded by his hand, remind myself to lock the compartment once we debark... I think for a moment how it would be to be at sea with Nomar instead. But ... keep it to business... "you must know Jay Pee pretty well then? He fair?"

Having Wells Fargo's attention on me puts my breath against my spine, but I don't let it carry me away, as much as I'd like it to.

"Not betting tips, no. We're not allowed to bet on the fights. It's a conflict of interest." I hope using the official language will help here. It seems like something a Vaulter might value. I lick my lips, then try a different tack. "I don't get to deliver many drinks like that one." I nod toward the Glenlivet in his hand. "Honestly, I was hoping to...just watch and see how it is. Make sure it's still good."

I listen closely and consider if there's anything I've missed in the interaction with Jay Pee. I don't think we have a written contract of any kind. Lots of folks out here can't read anyway so I doubt that's a thing. I'll get his cargo where it needs to go safe. That's all.

"Fair enough," I answer Nomar, "good enough for you is good enough for me!"

I sigh loudly and glance over at the dock, "I should get underway. Nomar. Hope to see y'around again. I'll be back this way once the job's done."

The moment Wells Fargo indicates the arm of the love seat, it transforms into a trophy case, one to be lit up and show off its prize, but otherwise ignored. All it's missing now is the trophy, and I'm not above filling that role.

I move up to perch on the arm by Wells. "One sip of that drink is probably a better tip than I'd get from a whole table of Sippians out there," I say, another attempt to make Wells Fargo feel bigger and better than he already does while I get close enough to let the Whispers touch his mind.

I salute Nomar as he debarks the ship. Fells... a little lonely. But business is business and I need to make preparations to set sail.

Lock the hatches, open the pilot house, and yeah... check that fifty-cal ammo and pull the heavy cases over to the gun ring. I do a quick system test, engines, lights, control surfaces... then finally.

Go below deck to check on Dinero.

Helix,

I can already tell how pleased it makes Wells Fargo that I'm sitting on his side of the couch rather than Jay Pee's. It's enough for a ticket in the door, but not enough yet to be welcomed into the inner sanctum. In a move that feels uncharacteristic to me, but I try to play off as casually as possible, I reach a hand around Well's, resting my arm along the back of the loveseat behind him and resting my hand lazily on his shoulder, right beside Jay Pee.

"You know," I say, looking at the TV screen still. "I hear your name tossed around quite a bit out there." I nod toward the rest of the Belly, the normal part of the Belly. "If the Vaulters come up, your name will be the first."

"Oh, I'm sure only half of it is true," I answer casually. "Mostly people being jealous of all the resources they think you have stored away. Obviously you have deeper pockets than most," I gesture at the VIP suite around us then rest my hand back on his shoulder, "but I'm not sure I believe you have a spaceship hidden away. I do believe that you...well...maybe I shouldn't say this. But I heard that you're not afraid to enforce a contract with, well, lethal force. I'm not sure I understand how killing someone gets you what you wanted, but what would I know about those things. That's for people like you to handle."