The Merry Hunters of the Galaxy

The Hiccuping Reptile

The Planet Herpettia, 2147

Cameron Elian

It was a common Sunday night at The Hiccuping Reptile.

Jazz, tobacco, and the heavy scent of spirits wafted through the small, woody space.

Spacecraft whizzed about the air outside.

The usual customers were at the bar, including Rattling Jack Diamond and five of his men. They sat in front of my station, tapping their feet and tails.

Hosting the Black Star wasn't ideal, but at least it paid well.

The five reptiles around Rattling Jack were all Comets, permanent members tattooed with the group's star on a body part of their choice. Most chose their hand or ankle, but Tortuga, the tall Testudinian on my far left, had it on his shell.

Rattling Jack shook the end of his tail with a menacing hiss.

Okay, okay, make him a White Bite. Then a Foaming Ocean for Snapper, a Sour Scarlet for Scalia, a Hot Honey for Crocker, a Venus Flytrap with extra flies for Anatole, and a Swampy Sue for Tortuga. But start with Rattling Jack. Always start with Rattling Jack, or he'd bare his fangs. I had to remember it.

Anyway, the White Bite. The first and most important ingredient was ice. I grabbed a double old-fashioned glass—perfect for drinks on the rocks like the White Bite—and stuck it under the ice machine.

The machine rumbled into motion, and then it screeched to a halt. Only one tiny cube clinked into the glass.

"Uh oh."

Rattling Jack leaned his long body over the bar, keeping his short rear legs and the end of his tail on his seat. "Problem with the ice machine, Elian?" His eyes narrowed to tight slits, and his lips began to part.

This was the sort of thing I was afraid of. "Don't worry, sir," my attempt at a smile came out as a grimace. "I'll have your drink ready as soon as I can."

He showed me his fangs. "You better."

I peered under the pipe. No blockages. Maybe it was the battery. I twisted to the side.

Sure enough, the energy bar was red.

I popped open the battery holder to see the current battery empty of caronine, the fluid that powered everything in the galaxy. I pressed the button on top of the battery case, popping it out. I dropped the battery in my Battery Refill bin. Now, to get a full one. I bent down and opened the long cooler beneath the glass shelves. It had everything that needed to be kept chilled: limes, citrus juices, and caronine batteries. The batteries were stacked high and tight. I grabbed one on top, but when I pulled it, it knocked down its neighbor.

The battery hit the tiles with a crash, its container breaking and spilling clear, viscous fluid that speckled with rainbows under the lights.

Crap.

A forked tongue licked the back of my head. "Problem with the battery, Elian?"

Crap. "I've got one at the ready, sir!" I jammed the full battery I had into the machine and closed the holder. I'd clean up the mess after I made Rattling Jack's drink.

The spilled caronine had stopped flowing and had begun to harden. The glassy dome rose, and the thick liquid within dried into putty.

The restroom door opened with a creak, and a chameleon Herpettian like me came out. As soon as she reached the bar, her telescoping eyes went down to the mess. "Heavens!" She sniffed. "A broken battery? That's a waste of gold scale bills. Not to mention all the suffering of poor workers and drilled land."