Arkelis System

On a moon orbiting Arkelis III was the settlement known by its planet. When people said they were going to Arkelis, they meant the lunar settlement that was one part industrial hub, one part trading byway and another part a landing spot for wayward souls. There were dozens of places (probably more) like this all across the galaxy and like most of them, they had seen better days and the inhabitants were either running away from something, looking for a trade or deal, or happily causing trouble. It was hardly lawless, and in fact it was relatively safe to roam about. Still, most people would caution new visitors against it until you knew where you were going.

Several freighters had come into port and the local establishments were suitably busy. At one particularly unusual tavern called Tank’s, one such crew made their way into what they had been told was a seedy looking but friendly place with great comfort food and good ale and staff that didn’t just shoot you with hostile looks if you simply said hello. They were mindful not to get too hooked on what the brochure said, even as they wandered in as a boisterous group. Most of them moved to a table, while two moved to the bar to order.

It was pretty busy and still fairly early, so they were having to wait, but they just chatted to themselves. One was male and had thick auburn hair and clear blue eyes, the woman with him- long raven hair to her waist and dark eyes. The man tried to get the attention of one of the bartenders, but they just went by. Another approached and he tried to stop her, by sticking out his arm.

The woman stopped, looked at the arm and, without even looking his way, ducked underneath and called out, “For that you have to wait ten more minutes. Try not to be an impatient ass, will ya?” Her voice was clear and direct with the faintest hint of a rasp.

Of the pair, the woman with the black hair snorted. “Serves you right, Ed” she told the young man.

“Probably,” he said with a grin.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, the same server came back, her plain brown hair draped over her shoulders. “Alright, time’s up. Whaddya want?” she asked them.

The man named Ed just stared at her, apparently lost for words. The server, a young Human-appearing woman raised her brows. “Cat got your tongue? What about you? Can I get you something?”

The woman with Ed grinned. “Don’t mind Ed. Normally he’s much more… coherent. Eight of whatever lager you have on tap.”

“Coming right up,” the server said, moving off.

“Smooth Ed, real smooth,” the woman teased.

“Shut up Albri,” Ed muttered. He certainly wasn’t going to admit aloud that he had been stunned into silence because the woman behind the bar was drop-dead gorgeous. And though he was young, he’d done his share of travelling and he’d never seen someone who was as pretty as she was in all his life. The worst part was that Albri was Betazoid and knew his thoughts too. Damn her.

A few minutes later, the server returned with a colleague (a petite blond with short hair and striking green eyes) carrying a tray each of mugs of lager. “Here you go, eight lagers. Anything to eat? Kitchen’s busy, so if you want anything, better order it now or forget it.”

“Got a menu?” Albri asked. The brown-haired server slid one across the bar.

From farther down the bar a short skinny man called out in a contradictory deep voice. “Coast! Another round for Table Five.” The server with the brown hair lifted her hand in the air with her index finger pointed. Some kind of signal over the din, likely.

“Coast? Is that your first name or surname?” Ed said, suddenly curious.

“Does it matter?” the bartender said as she mixed up a drink in front of them. Albri just shook her head and muttered, “Hopeless,” as she moved off with the drinks, easily carrying both trays balanced on her hands, leaving Ed to his awkward pick-up lines or whatever he thought it all was.

“Coast… as in the coast? Or is it a reference to something else?” he asked, gazing at her intently. When she looked up from her drink he couldn’t see the precise colour of her eyes because it was dim, but they had this grey to them that reminded him of looking through fog. Stunning.

“Coast!” the little man shouted towards her. “I’m not paying you to chit-chat. I need those drinks!”

“Yes, Tank!” Coast shouted back down the bar, now clearly irritated. “Quinn, can you take this guy’s food order, if he and his friends are having any? They’re at Table Eight.”

“Got it,” the petite blond said, stepping in. They looked at Ed with an expectant expression as ‘Coast’ moved off to fill the rest of the order. “Anything else?”

“Uhhh, umm, plate of jalapeno poppers. And I’m going to leave a large tip. Make sure most of it goes to her, okay?”

Quinn rolled their eyes. “Let me give you a warning. Just don’t. Leave her be, alright?”

“I-” Ed started.

“No, don’t. Trust me. She’s got enough to deal with without some random person at the bar hitting on her. You want to be nice? Leave her alone.”

“Fine, but I’m still leaving the tip,” Ed said firmly.

Quinn shrugged. “Your choice.”

“Just tell me one thing… is her name really Coast?”

Quinn just rolled their eyes and walked off to put in the order.

Ed smirked and cast his gaze down at the bar. He watched Coast filling what seemed to be a large order, working diligently. She seemed sure in her movements, sometimes not even needing to look at what she was reaching for, even if it was behind her. There was rhythm to her movements and it was rather fascinating to watch. But she never made a return down this side of the bar. Moving off to his table, he joined his fellow shipmates. They had their drinks and poppers and left, off to hop to another bar. But already he was entranced by the place, and regretted leaving. It had somewhat questionable musical entertainment and certainly lacked in the decor department, but it was true to advertising: service was great. And lingering in his mind was the strange and beautiful woman named Coast.

To be Continued…

~Ed & ‘Coast’