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Sufficiently Advanced Percussive Maintenance 4
🕑 Added 2023-03-01 14:00:12 +0000 UTC“Ahhhh,” Thor said, closing his eyes in bliss. He may have slipped through the folds of Yggdrasil to another strange new realm, but coffee was eternal.
“Worth the wait?” Elara asked, leaning forward onto the counter. Topaz eyes were full of questions, and they seemed to glitter against her blue skin.
Thor took another long sip before answering. “Indeed. I regret I could not come sooner, but I was denied entry to this section of your Citadel each day before now.” With coffee obtained however, all was now well. The counter stool he perched on even seemed sturdy enough to bear his frame without worry.
“I had to go through a whole thing at my embassy before they would let me back in here, too,” Elara said, propping her chin up on one fist.
“No, I spoke with no embassy,” Thor said. He swirled what remained of his coffee, looking down into its rich depths.
Elara’s face screwed up in confusion. “They just let you into the Presidium?” she asked.
“My persistence was rewarded,” Thor claimed, downing his drink. “May I have another?” He set the cup carefully on the counter before him.
“Sure,” Elara said, answering on automatic, already pulling back to move to the coffee machine. “And they’re on the house, you hear me?” Liz would turn her disappointed Matriarch face on her if she tried to charge their saviour.
“No no,” Thor tried to argue, digging in his pockets, “I insist. I have obtained objects valued by the people here.”
For a moment, Elara was distracted from her coffee making. She had been so fixed on his braided ‘beard’ and newly short hair - the idea of a haircut still sent shivers down her spine - that she had somehow missed his outfit entirely. He looked to be wearing enough material to outfit a family, and it wasn’t even made of anything she recognised. It looked like it was meant to resemble primitive fabric - it might even be primitive fabric. Her distraction with his clothing only lasted until she realised what he was retrieving from his pockets to place on her counter.
“Thor!” she hissed, looking around in alarm. Only long practice and muscle memory kept her going through the motions of coffee making. “Put that away! Where did you even get it?!?”
Thor blinked at her, slowing but not stopping, as he placed a bag of actual red sand on the counter. “Is it not a luxury good?” he asked. “I was offered quite a bit of it in exchange for a service.” He dug into his pockets again, but this time it was no bag, but an entire brick of vacuum wrapped red sand he came up with.
“Oh Goddess,” Elara said, moaning. “What did you do to get that?” Was her saviour a criminal? Was she aiding and abetting?
“Little and nothing,” Thor said, putting the brick on the counter, starting to dig in another pocket. “They offered it to me if I would go away, but I found it much easier to finish dealing with them and simply take it.” He began to pull fistfulls of credit chits out, dropping the glowing cubes to the counter with a waterfall of tinks.
Colour fled the young asari’s face, leaving her a wan cyan as she watched pocket change chits join the small fortune in drugs on her countertop and oh wait that was a hundred thousand credit chit. “Thor. It’s on the house. Really.”
“It would be ill of me to accept such aid when I do not need it,” Thor said, his tone more suited to some grave oath than to a bright cafe on the Presidium. He reached into the flap of his outer clothes and pulled out something larger, setting it down with a thunk.
“Is that someone’s implant?!?” Elara whisper screamed as she dribbled a happy puppy face in the coffee foam. “Is that bl– wait, is that the new Serrice amp? I didn’t think those were on the market yet.”
“I do not know,” Thor said with a hum, patting down his pockets but thankfully finding nothing else. He wiped a few drops of blue blood discreetly on his sleeve. “But I am sure that there will be something amongst my prizes worth another cup of your fine brew.”
“Just, put the red sand away,” Elara said, putting the final touches on the puppy whiskers. She stepped away from the coffee machine, coffee in hand, and stared him down as he made no move to do so.
“I will pay,” Thor said, returning her stare, unblinking.
“Put it away or I drink the coffee.”
Mismatched eyes narrowed.
The coffee cup was raised in silent threat.
Thor surrendered, grumbling, and heavy hands plucked bags and brick from the counter, returning it all to his pockets.
“And the implant.”
“That was not the deal,” Thor protested.
“I am altering the deal.”
Thor grumbled some more, but stowed the implant away too.
A bright smile broke out over Elara’s face, as if she had never been anything but a cheerful barista. “Here you are! Please enjoy.” She set it down on the counter, pushing it through the spread of credit chits deliberately.
The thunder god was of a mind to argue now that the brew was in his possession, but then he was distracted by the coffee art. “Oho, look at his little paws.”
Elara smirked at the acknowledgement of her skills, leaning back into the counter, side on so she could keep an eye on the approach to her little open air cafe. “You kill geth, I brew coffee,” she said.
“What made you choose to dedicate yourself to it?” Thor asked, taking a sip. “Family tradition? Rebellion?”
“Oh, no, it’s just a phase,” Elara said, crossing her arms under her chest. “Last decade it was bartending, before that it was competitive zero-G ballet. Not sure what I’ll do next yet.”
Before Thor could voice his interest in competitive zero-G ballet, there was a soft chime from behind the counter, heralding the arrival of another customer. It was one of the ‘salarians’ that he had encountered in this new world, skin a burnt orange. It wasn’t until Thor noticed the scar, a thick line of brown above his right eye that it clicked as to why he seemed familiar. “Raegent! he said in greeting. “Another victorious warrior, come for a victory drink?”
Raegent stopped in place and blinked rapidly, gleaming black eyes taking him in before darting to the counter and back, before raising a hand with three digits in a wave. “Thor. Good to see you. Had hoped to run into you.” He shifted his attention to Elara. “Elara.”
“Raegent, welcome back,” she said, straightening. “The usual?”
“Please,” Reagent said. “Squad spoiled by quality of drinks. Regret being put off by strange name of your establishment.” He spoke just a beat faster than normal, but Thor had been privy to enough discussions between Tony and Bruce that he was used to it.
“There’s nothing wrong with ‘The Clicky Klixen’,” Elara said with a scoff, moving back to the coffee machine.
Raegent made a vague noise of disagreement. “Actually, hold larger order. I will take my break here. Squad can wait for coffee.” Approaching the counter, he took a seat at the next stool down, to Thor’s right, blue armour clinking. He adjusted the pistol at his hip to sit more comfortably.
“How fares your squad?” Thor asked. Last he had seen them was when he had departed to give battle to the sentient geth flagship.
“Mostly healed,” Raegent said, pulling his gaze away from the pile of credit chits on the counter. “The medi-gel of your people continues to be a boon.”
“Of course,” Thor said, as if he knew what that was. “Love a bit of medi-gel.”
Raegent side eyed him, something more effective than usual given the size of his large black eyes. His attention was pulled away by the arrival of his drink, a steaming drink with a pungent smell that wasn’t unpleasant. “Ahhhh,” he said, leaning in to inhale the vapour, though he made no move to drink it yet.
Elara nodded in satisfaction, before turning to Thor. “Would you like a cake, or a pastry?” she asked. “We’ve got levo recipes from Thessia to Earth and all points in between.”
“That depends,” Thor said. “Will you let me pay for it?”
Elara leaned in, smiling. “No.” Deliberately, she swept the spread of chits back towards him, looking him dead in the eye as she did it. “I’ll get you a Dark Jungle cake. It’s an asari take on a human classic. You’ll like it.” She bustled off to fetch a plate and cutlery.
“Would not have thought a barista capable of bouncing a geth combat unit,” Raegent said.
“Well, she’s getting on to her third century,” Thor said, shrugging.
“A strange thing to ponder, for shorter lived races like ourselves,” Raegent said.
Thor gave a non-committal hum. “You said you had hoped to run into me again?”
“Yes,” Raegent said, unphased by the subject change. “Heard you tell Elara you would return. Wished to pass on thanks of squad and myself. Survival without your intervention unlikely.”
“Your valour would have seen you through, I am sure,” Thor said. “There is little point in lingering on what ifs.”
Reagent gave a sharp nod. “Just so. Will admit to great curiosity in your weapon technology, but appreciate likely confidential nature. Will ask instead after your health.”
“I am most well,” Thor said, savouring the last of his coffee. “There has been much to keep me occupied in the days since the battle, and generous people to offer me lodgings.”
The salarian straightened, moving away from his still steaming drink. “You have not found a public shelter?” he asked.
“Such are for those who have no other options,” Thor said, waving him off. And who had proper identification, but that was besides the point.
“No, unacceptable,” Raegent said with surprising vehemence. He slapped his hand down on the counter hard enough to rattle cups and chits. “Have access to apartment, currently empty. Can be made available to you.”
“That is not necessary,” Thor said.
Unfortunately, it seemed that Elara had returned in time to hear. “You mean you’re couch surfing? When you’ve got this kind of money??” She placed a plate with a slice of cake on it down more heavily than was warranted.
“No, I-”
“You can stay at my place,” Elara said, speaking over him. “It’ll be a little crowded, what with my girlfriend being there - some geth wreckage fell on her block - but we can manage.”
“Apartment is meant for witness protection, comes stocked,” Raegent said. “Would not crowd Elara and her partner.”
“I’ve got Citadel unlimited bandwidth, and fifth tier extranet priority,” Elara bragged, which would perhaps be more impressive if Thor knew what any of it meant.
“Thank you both,” Thor said, cutting in before the offers could grow any more heated, “but I have coin enough to gain lodgings for myself.”
Both of them glanced again at the pile of credit chits. It had a way of drawing the eye, even when one was trying to be polite. It was a wild mix of single chit cubes to chits worth hundreds of thousands, and most of them were even close to full. Some of them were flecked with liquids of mysterious provenance, but asari and salarian chose to ignore that.
“So, why didn’t you?” Elara asked.
There was a pause.
“I was busy,” Thor said, speaking with great dignity to disguise the fact that he knew not the value of what he had claimed as booty.
“I’ve got a line on a crew that needs muscle, if you need a berth,” came a deep, rumbling voice.
All three of the sentients in the cafe startled, Thor and Raegent looking over their shoulders at the newcomer. Even Elara, facing in that direction, had not seen him coming.
“How did you - the greeting tone -”
“Public facing omni-tool ports are for chumps,” Shath, the purple crested krogan from the fight against the geth said. “I’ve seen three fools get chewed up when their ‘tools answered a greeting ping in urban combat.” He looked back to Thor. “Well? I saw you fight those geth. Might be something to your boasts. Wouldn’t mind finding out for sure.”
Thor’s brow creased as he remembered the words he had exchanged with this Shath. He had perhaps been short tempered, but it was understandable, given his circumstances. “Thank you, but no,” he said.
“Shame,” Shath said. He ran a thick tongue over serrated teeth, before looking over to Elara. “I’ll have a ryncol.”
“We’re a cafe, not a bar,” Elara said.
“Whatever you’ve got that’s heavy then,” Shath said, dismissive. “Levo or dextro, I don’t care.” He ambled up to join them, taking the last stool before the counter. It creaked slightly under his bulk and dark red armour.
Elara narrowed her eyes at him, crests darkening in anger. “Double octo-espresso coming right up. Fifty credits.”
Shath waved his arm carelessly, and it flickered orange for a moment, but he was already looking back to Thor. “So what the fuck was going on with that axe of yours?” he asked bluntly.
Comments
Thanatos
Couple million dollars, some space cocaine, and a space magic booster that isn’t supposed to be sold yet
Richard Whereat
So, I haven't played ME, what did Thor put on the table?
Douglas Paul Christensen
Moooooooore
