Perdition's Child

Chapter 3

Job or not, Mehk wasn't inclined to run into dangerous situations until he had as much information as possible. He meandered about, visiting the gossip mills around town was a more complicated task than one would think. Two of his favorite spots had switched sectors just in the last few cycles, driving off to some new town for greener pastures. They'd probably return in a month or so, but for now they weren't an option. Another of his preferred locations was closed this cycle, according to the social network. The pack that the bartender was associated with was celebrating a birth and it was too small a group to have any satellite members to pick up the slack running affairs.

He'd have to settle for whatever was closest and hope for the best. After consulting the map on his com he docked onto a vaguely familiar dive. He just couldn't place it but was sure he'd been here before, maybe it had been painted?

It was a mostly open construction, more of a floating pavilion with a circular bar in the center than a building proper. Rolled up canvass lined the edge of the roof in case some temporary walls were needed for a sandstorm. They did nothing to prevent a fine layer of wind-blown dust from settling over absolutely everything, but that was just an annoyance you got used to living here.

The bartender he definitely recognized now. She flicked an ear to acknowledge his presence but didn't bother looking up, and Mehk resisted the urge to run before she recognized him. He hesitated too long, sitting side-saddle half off his bike and considering the pros and cons of retreat while his arms protested at holding so much of his weight.

"You had better be gone from here before the next bell, Pasche eats lunch here most days." He hadn't seen her look up from browsing the net on her com, but perhaps she'd recognized the sound of his engine. Now that he was trapped here, if only because of how awkward it would be to pull up then leave without a word, he saw it was the same structure Pasche had been plotting to buy a few months ago. Mehk had taken a good look at it and suggested he not.

Nice to see his advise had been ignored. Maybe the piece of shit engine would bankrupt Pasche when the core started failing in the next few months.

Mehk set his ears down a bit and slunk over towards a barstool, digging some cash out of his pocket and finding a bottle cap with the coins. He tossed it into a nearby recycler before perching on the edge of a seat sort of middle distance away from the bartender, about as distant as he could politely get away with. "Energy drink, no intoxicants on the job... How have you been?" Awkward ex-pack small talk. Joy. This surely wouldn't end with him feeling like shit.

She took his money and disappeared under the bar for a moment. "Fine. We're fine. We were short a person for the war tournament and got disqualified, and it would have been nice to have had another hand rebuilding Shehu's damaged roof, and..."

"Yes," Mehk growled, "that's too bad things didn't work out. What with the murder attempt and all." Weird hazing rituals, that he could put up with. Weekly tributes? Yeah, standard... The mandatory volunteer hours to do Pasche's chores? That was a bit weird, but nothing he couldn't put up with for the companionship of the rest of the pack.

Pressuring him to move in and stop associating with Darkrei, then jokingly inquiring about his experience with disposing of bodies... That never led anywhere good, he knew that by now. Then when Mehk tried to leave the rhoha showed his true colors.