Stargate Aschen

Chapter 4 - Strangers

As soon as Sam opened the door, the strong smell of smoke mixing with flat beer reached her nostrils and she winced. She should have expected a place like this when the shop owner in the little town had told her she’d have to walk two hours into the forest to reach the bar.

It was the only house for miles. Not exactly a place that welcomed ordinary customers. Her stomach clenched as she entered.

Men with grim faces scrutinized her and went about their own business again. Most of them at least. Sam scanned the room. Old oak tables and chairs and a rotten looking counter. Just the kind of establishment the Aschen were so keen on banning, a haven for smugglers, dealers and other criminals.

Two nights ago, Sam had overheard two men in a town bar talking about the resistance. Her first real clue they actually existed.

The men had been arms dealers who regularly provided the resistance with weapons—that much she’d gathered from the conversation. They’d mentioned one of the resistance leaders was in town, and that the best place to meet him was Thursday night in this forest bar. After weeks of searching, fate had been kind to her.

Sam kept the hood of her cape in place as she walked up to the counter. An obese bartender in his fifties was cleaning glasses—or attempting to. Sam’s stomach turned when she saw the brown water he dipped the glasses into before he dried them.  

“Hi.” She sat down on one of the barstools and looked around. Fourteen people, all male, including the bartender. All far enough away that she’d be able to make it to the exit door in less than five steps.

Somehow, it had become part of her routine to carefully scan her surroundings and map out an escape route in case of an emergency. Especially if there was only males around her.

A filthy looking man with greasy blonde hair ogled her from a table close by. He gave her a sly grin and two gold teeth blinked in the dim light. Sam turned back to the bartender.

“I am looking for someone.”

“Uh huh.” The man put a toothpick between his teeth without interest, and put down his dirty towel. “I’m a bartender, not an info booth.”

“Alright.” Sam pulled a silver coin out of her pocket. “I’ll take a beer, please.”

He looked at her suspiciously, still chewing on the toothpick in the corner of his mouth. “I don’t think so, lad, you’re still in your teens judging from your voice.”

Sam sighed and contemplated her choices. Revealing herself as a woman in an establishment like this wasn’t wise. On the other hand, this was her first real clue to the resistance, and she didn’t want to give up that easily.

Her eyes narrowed, she pulled the hood back and lifted her chin. The bartender’s eyes grew wide, his gaze taking in her hair, scanning her face. He cleared his throat and leaned over the counter towards her.

“Lady, I don’t think it’s wise for you to be in a place like this alone. Unless you’re looking to earn quick silver, if you know what I mean. My customers are not the honorable kind, and I make it a policy not to interfere with their business. If you get into trouble—“

“I can take care of myself.” That sounded braver than she felt, even to her own ears. “Since we’re already chatting, maybe you can answer my question. I’m looking for a contact from the resistance here. Where can I find him?”

The man scrutinized her through narrowed eyes, then straightened out and went back to drying his glasses. “I can’t help you.”

“The sooner I get what I’m here for, the sooner I’ll leave.” His face darkened and Sam winced. Okay, so maybe trying to badger a man like this wasn’t a wise plan. She was running out of choices, though.