Better Make That To Go.
Posted on Sun Jun 19th, 2022 @ 10:40am by Drake Loxley & Zhang Quing
Edited on on Sun Jun 26th, 2022 @ 8:57am
Mission:
Home Sweet Wonderful Home
Location: Cloudwater, Three Hills
Timeline: November 15th - late afternoon
The day had been warm and dry.... fairly typical for the season on Three Hills. The Cafe adjacent to the spaceport was settling from the lunch time rush. Zhang Quing found an available small table on the front porch. Quing was grateful for a sliver of shade from the white sun overhead. As she sat down she picked up the flyer showcasing the daily specials. Mostly wholesome fare with a few decadent offerings for folk in a celebratin mood.
"What would tickle your fancy today, dear?" the older waitress asked stepping up to the table with her order tablet in hand.
Quing gave a slight bow of recognition to the woman. "Jasmine Tea. And a bowl of Hot and Sour noodles." she responded in a soft voice.
"I do like a customer that knows what she wants." the waitress stated, annotating the order in her tablet. "It'll be just a minute."
Quing nodded then shifted her attention to the street, the warm breeze and the sounds of the market surrounding the spaceport.
The crescendo of a starship engine rumbled overhead as the ship climbed for atmo out of the nearby spacefield. Quing wondered why she always returned here. Listening and watching ships leaving this world she had lived on for six years. She had been content with discovering her life after the war, away from the monastery. Her daily routine of reflection, meditation and practice of the essential 74 forms had kept her mind active, and there was plenty of folk who were in need of help. Every-time she felt the impulse to jump a ship into the Black, something would come up to hold her in-place. But for now there were no demands. The sun glinted off the hull of the ship as it shot skyward. Perhaps today was the day.
The waitress returned with a cup and a bowl, placing them neatly down on the small table. "Yer her aint ya?" she said rather enthusiastically.
Quing said nothing. Moments like this were awkward.
"You are! My cousin Penelope described you perfectly." she continued on. "Course there aint that many ladies that carry your hairstyle."
Quing looked down to her tea, stirring it as it steeped.
"Well thank you for all ya done fer my kinfolk. Wasn't nobody else that would given the time of day."
The waitress made a misstep on the patio and began to stumble forward. Quing quickly snatched up her tea as the woman fell against the table, knocking the bowl of noodles, place setting and decorations onto the wooden floor boards. Quing took a sip of her tea as the woman sprawled on the ground, fighting to regain her own feet.
The embarassed woman groaned at her clumsiness. "I am so sorry ma'am. Please let me clean you up." she said extending a cloth rag from her apron.
Quing's face was placidly unreadable as she did not make note of the woman's struggle.
"I will get you a fresh bowl of soup ma'am." the waitress said, picking up the scattered utensils from the ground to carry them back inside the cafe.
Her eyes closed savoring the sounds of her surroundings once the waitress left. She was aware of a man arriving at the cafe.
"Matcha green tea, please," said the young man with the floppy blond curls after he'd greeted the elder waitress in Chinese. "A box of dim sum and some apple doughnuts to take away, too. Thank you," he added, politely, placing his palms lightly together and nodding his head in a deeper thanks. He stood then, on the front porch and impatiently waited, while doing his best to mask that emotion.
Each ship that passed overhead reminded Drake Loxley of the one sitting back at his estate being slowly repaired, and that ship forced him to recall that his brother was here on Three Hills until said repairs were completed. He loved his brother, as one had to with one's siblings, but Alden was nosey, authoritative and came accompanied with a frustratingly persistent trail of trouble in his wake. Things would go a lot smoother once the elder Loxley was off again on his travels about the Verse. And Drake would be somewhat calmer once he'd had his tea and spent some time ensuring Alden's ship was safer to leave in.
He turned his head back towards the open seating area as the scent of fresh hot and sour noodles (a personal favourite of his) wafted by and Drake allowed his gaze to follow them and an intriguingly apologetic waitress to their designated table.
She sipped her tea as the patio returned to its undisturbed state. The street was filled with layers of texture. People selling their wares, loading goods and general chatter of people going about their lives as they had chosen. Then they stopped.
Her eyes shot to the direction of where the voices had stopped. A pair of men sauntered out of the shadows, citizens weaved out of their path. She could sense the unbalance that hung about them. She focused on the moment, on the smells and feel of the world around her. The men stepped up onto the patio as the waitress returned with a new bowl of noodles. "Here you are hun. So sorry."
Quing accepted the bowl with a slight smile, hoping the woman would sense her surroundings. The two men approached from behind.
"Oh welcome. Please take a seat wherever you like." the waitress called to the two men as she finished delivering Quing's meal.
Drake's tea turned up first, a custom of this fine establishment to furnish its clientelle with refreshment while they awaited fuller sustenance, so the young man sipped hot beverage while leaning on the nearest wooden rail. He noted the arriving duo and frowned. His sixth sense worked a little differently to Quing's, but was no less accurate. These men weren't personally familiar to Drake, but the feeling of a shifting wind was no less overt.
Quing separated the pair of chopsticks that had been delivered with the meal, quickly rubbing them against each other to shake off any splinters, before plunging them into her bowl of soup. She added a bit of Sriracha from the bottle on the table, stirring her noodles with the hot chilli pepper sauce. She held the bowl up near her mouth and pushed a bite's worth of noodles into her mouth. Her eyes followed the two men as they stepped to the side of the waitress.
The younger of the two walked into the cafe and gave a cursory look around, he then returned to the main door where his companion stood. "Looks shiny." he stated.
"Let's go then." his bearded companion said.
The men pulled a revolver and a coach gun from their jackets. The bearded man grabbed the waitress. "Kindly oblige yourself to empty that there cash register." he said motioning with his pistol in the direction of the main counter. "And anything y'all got stashed in the back. Git it out here."
The younger man with the carriage gun stayed by the door "Alright, y'all sit steady, this here's a robbery. Everyone empty your pockets and put your valuables up on the table in front of you." he shouted into the cafe. His attention suddenly went to the pair on the porch. "You two get inside. Now!" he shouted at Drake and Quing.
Quing continued eating her noodles, not moving.
"I'm talking to you shorty!" the younger cam screamed at the bald young woman. He then turned his coach gun on Drake. "Don't get no funny ideas Goldilocks."
The Jericho pistol in his holster was quietly screaming at him, but Drake wasn't ready to risk the lives of everyone in this establishment. He let his left hand tickle the coretex terminal at his belt covertly while giving a big show of avoiding touching his firearm with his right. "I hear you," he said, calm as a Sunday morning. "Whatever you say, Mr Wolf," he returned, expression deadpan and compliant. Cops alerted by that dead-man's switch, Drake started to walk towards the door as requested.
"I said move you deaf stupid droxy." Coach Gun shouted again at Quing, getting the attention of the young man's partner. The bearded man leaned back from the cafe entrance to look at what was holding up his partner.
In one fluid motion, Quing tipped back in her chair allowing her leg to swing over the top of the table kicking the Sriracha bottle up, shattering it in the young man's face. Her foot continued on the arc, knocking the coach gun from his grasp sending it crashing to the floor as his hands went up trying to wipe the sudden sting of pepper sauce from his eyes.
Rocking forward in her chair, Quing threw her chopsticks, impaling the bearded man in the shoulder of his gun arm and the other sinking half its length into his throat, that he grasped at with his good arm as his pistol fell to the floor.
Quing placed her bowl down on the table, picking up her tea and taking a sip. She looked to Drake, "Can you pick up their guns, and maybe call them a medic. I need some fresh utensils."
"Niiiiiiiice," Drake commented with a flash of a grin as he strode towards the gasping fella with a chopstick in his neck. He was still breathing, if erratically and too fast, but help was coming. Not that these two deserved it. "Cops are on their way," the younger Loxley told the little bald warrior, as he picked up both the bandits' weapons, removed the ammo and handed them off to the cafe's owner for safe-keeping in exchange for fresh chopsticks.
Quing silently sipped her tea observing the goings on in the aftermath of her actions. She appreciated Drake gathering the thugs's arms as she requested. Those willing to help out in restoring the peace were always a treasure. She eyed the pair of brigands with disdain, each clutching their injuries while being watched over by the Cafe's cook wielding a rolling pin and butcher knife. Curious how a simple meal brought so many distractions. She took another sip once more savoring the sounds of the city.
Once the local fuzz had shown up, taken down some details and removed the offending idjits - all of which seemed to go particularly smoothly considering - Drake approached the little lady with the now empty bowl and the peaceful demeanor. His conversation with the cops had been swift, easy and relaxed on account of his reputation and connections, but Drake had an inkling he might know who this kick-ass female was.
"Might I interrupt your tranquility for a moment?" He asked, holding a polite distance from Quing and her table.
Her eyes shifted from the street to Drake. "If you must." she stated cooly, but not harshly. She took a sip of her tea as she looked the man over. He was not typical of the people that approached her looking for help. "Please have a seat." she said gesturing with her hand to the chair on the opposite side of the small table.
Drake waited, patiently for that important permission, all quiet calm and perfect manners. "Thank you, kindly," he said as he took the indicated chair and made himself comfortable for a few quiet seconds before speaking again. "I couldn't help but notice that you're extremely capable of looking after others in their time of need," Drake said. "And I believe your reputation is somewhat infamous." He passively studied the young woman's face for sign of emotion, reaction of some ruffle he might need to smooth, and took his time before continuing.
The woman's face remained passive and unreadable. She placed her tea cup down on the table turning both dark eyes toward the man.
"I'm aware of a situation that you may possibly be able to help with," he said, chucking the plot hook out into the proverbial open water.
This was a job request. The man had none of the marks of eagerness or desperation that usually sought her help. Interesting. He was usually the kind she was hired to protect people from.
"Situations tend to resolve themselves without interference." she stated solemnly. "I do not involve myself with situations that need adjusting. All the same, what are you seeking?"
A wry smile. Drake figured she was reading him right, which was to be expected. The Zen Robin Hood of Three Hills (as he liked to think of her) was no slouch, no fool and no businesswoman. She was entirely her own moral compass and he had to play this just right. Honourable, but understated.
"Situations often do, yes," he agreed, a bobbing nod of his head shaking those long curls about his dark eyes. "I do not seek to adjust said situation. I only ask that you consider a little observation of such and then make up your own mind with regards a particular person." Drake held up his hands. "I can honestly say my concern is for the person themselves." That was, for once, entirely the truth. "Perhaps you allow me to give you a location, and you decide?"
Quing looked Drake directly in the eye, trying to assess what the man was up to. "You speak in riddles. What does this matter pertain to? I will attend to your observing. If it is in line with the flow of the Verse, I will certainly provide what help is due." She closed her eyes, contemplating what the man was sort of saying and what it might mean for her immediate future.
That brought a dumb grin to the young man's features, an expression that highlighted the similarities between the Loxley brothers, not that Quing would be aware of that yet. "I do, don't I?" Drake said, rhetorical question lazy and slow. "That's fair," he agreed. "This matter pertains to a young lady whom I believe may need some... supportive guidance... and a man who seems to think he's got that covered. I beg to differ, but I'd be interested to see what your opinion is." Drake shrugged. "I'll take my chances with the flow of the Verse and all."
"No man can stand against the Tide. So it goes with the Verse. What will happen will happen." she responded looking at him with eyes that dug into a person's soul. "Likewise a man can rarely 'cover' the needs of a woman. Very well let us meet this woman of your concern." she placed the tea cup down on the table.
Of all the Loxleys currently residing in the Verse, Drake was the least fond, but the most willing, to allow strangers to study him closely. He had plenty to hide, but a necessary skillset and more than supreme confidence invested in achieving said matters stayed hidden. Whether either of those talents were legimate or perceived purely by the man himself was another matter, but sales pitch was more than half the battle and bullshit covered the rest. Drake didn't mind which rose to the surface when someone looked at him, he had the connections to get himself out of pretty much anything he wandered intentionally into. Mostly.
"Right you are," he confirmed, a light chuckle as he considered Alden's ability to attend to a woman's needs. Drake was certain his older brother had most of that side of things covered, though that was concerning an entirely different female. "Let's walk," he suggested. Sunshine was warm enough, and it wasn't that far across town. "I'll take you right to 'em."
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