The DrearGyre

by Leslie Lee

any light. “It’s a little heavy.”

  “It is a most robust and long lasting construction. Very fine leather. See how it flatters your figure. A little long, true, but just to mid shin. It will not brush the ground. And the material is most sturdy. A little thick, I admit, but see how well it moves, not constricting at all. But very protective here in Hellsbitch. Very protective. And the breather and goggles and kerchief and very fine leather britches on you...”

  “Do you have to keep touching her?” Vain snapped, watching his hands flowing over Seren’s legs.

  The Cardassian jerked his hands back. “I know. I know. Attracting the unwanted attention of those many many unsavory characters about, for instance those of bounty hunters or mercenaries who seem for some reason to be almost all male, is an unfortunate price to pay for such beauty. That is a strange fact. I for one do not know much about bounty hunters at all but from what I have heard, they do appear to be a rough lot that seem to pay attention to the female body parts far more than they should given their chosen profession and how just a moment of inattention can be a cause of great distress for them. And for some reason there seems to be an abundance of these mercenary types about which one can only wonder at.”

  Seren twirled in the mirror. She did like the look. And it did remind her of the videos of the Old West that she used to love.

  “How much do we owe you, tailor?” she asked.

  “A mere five strips of latinum.”

  Seren handed the strips over. “That’s not very much.”

  The Cardassian had told them when they’d first found him that he did not dicker in prices. He was not a Ferengi. His price or go some place else.

  “Your concern for my well being truly touched my heart. Truly. And perhaps if at some future point in time I am concerned for my safety which is so highly unlikely being that I am but a simple tailor, and if the good sheriff is indisposed which unfortunately seems to occur only when he’s awake, then perhaps I can call on you to, as they say, watch my back.”

  “You may call upon us, tailor, though we are but simple miners,” Vain nodded as the Cardassian inclined his head, their eyes meeting for a moment.

  “And thank you,” Seren said looking at her back in the mirror, smoothing the garment over her rear.

  “No, thank you, lovely...couple. Oh and one more gift. And it is a gift.”

  They left the tailor’s shop in their new clothes.

  “I don’t trust that Cardassian,” Vain said, then stopped. “My voice.”

  “It’s a little lower that’s all,” Seren remarked examining the little gift the tailor had put on her throat.

  “Male-ish?”

  “Not at all.” She coughed and was glad Vain couldn’t see her laugh. “He seemed genuine enough.”

  Vain grunted. “I still do not trust him. A Cardassian. And a smart one at that. A dangerous combination.”

  “What do you think happened to those two men?”

  “I have no idea. Maybe they were friends after all and he is hiding them.”

  “He doesn’t appear to be the type to have many friends.”

  “I concur with your observation. However, he did recommend this place.”

  They stopped in front of one of the many bars in Hellsbitch. A Ferengi ran this one. It was crowded and smoky and dark. The loudness of the music pummeled their ears. Males and females gyrated on little stages. For the most part, they were ignored by the patrons who either gambled with ferocious intensity or drank with even greater dedication.

  They shoved their way to the back.

  The Ferengi behind the bar finally gave them his attention. “What can I get you, lady and gentleman?”

  Vain pounded the bar with her fist while Seren hid her smile behind her hand.

  “Alright, alright,” the Ferengi said cringing backwards. “I was busy and didn’t see you standing there. What can I serve you?”

  “Uh...” Seren said.

  “She’ll have a Ferengi beer and I’ll have Orion Wine,” Vain said gruffly. “And a couple of plates of stew.”

  “Yes sir. And I might add that this beer... It’s the real thing. I brewed it myself yesterday. Very fresh. And the stew is, well, stew.”

  He hurried off.

  Vain leaned into her. “I do not like the way the males here stare at your hindquarters.”

  Seren’s mouth dropped open. “My hindquarters? I do not have hindquarters. It’s called a butt. And you have a very nice one too.”

  The Ferengi wiped the bar enough to shove the dirt to one side then served them the drinks and food in exchange for a small latinum slip. “Happy you found my establishment. Your latinum is always welcome here.”

  “Your tailor friend recommended it,” Seren said.

  “Tailor? Oh. Yeah. I’ll have to thank him for that. You friends of his? No? Anyway, you’re still welcome here any time regardless. Much better than my last bar. I’ve named this one after myself as well.”

  “I’m Seren and this is Vain. You have an interesting name for a Ferengi. Saloon.”

  “What? No!” The Ferengi jumped and tried to peer out the window. “Dammit, signage is out again. The last fog attack wrecked almost everything.”

  He ran off to yell at another Ferengi. People said these aliens could hear a coin drop in a vacuum. With those big ears she didn’t doubt it. Ferengis were so short, they had to raise the floor behind the bar so they could be seen. She’d heard that Starfleet Academy had admitted a Ferengi once. Before her time. During the war with the Dominion a while back. Who knows, maybe Starfleet was admitting in more Ferengi these days.

  “Are you well?” Vain said touching her lightly on the hand.

  “What? Oh, yes.” She gave the Romulan’s hand a squeeze. “I was just thinking of another life. How did you know?”

  “You left for a moment. And it is still your life.”

  Seren hugged Vain. The Romulan stiffened slightly, still a little uncomfortable with public displays of affection. They moved their bar stools closer together. Just another couple busying themselves with drinking, and eating, not paying attention to anything but each other. Vain though took everything in. Seren scanned as well. Most everyone in the bar looked like they’d lived in The DrearGyre, either in Hellsbitch or someplace else, for a long time. Prospectors mostly. They went about their drinking with grim determination. Some pilots gathered together resting between runs for the miners. Maybe some shopkeepers, or people taking breaks from the brothels. Some bars in the town catered to specific races only. The Ferengi didn’t care about that. If a rock had latinum, it would get service here. Seren could not identify most of the races. There were Humans of course, and an Andorian here and there. Many Tellarites. No Vulcans. Some Klingons. Thick greasy smoke from various drugs hovered over the crowd. Seren thought she could get high by just inhaling deeply.

  Dust clouded everything. Blowers tried to remove it. They were losing. Every time someone entered more dirt would gust in. Settlers in the past had made half-hearted attempts to terraform the planetoid. As usual, there’d been arguments over who should pay and what the makeup of the atmosphere should be. At least the gravity on Hellsbitch was about right. Just a little heavy, especially for such a small planetoid.

  “Bounty hunters,” Vain said, leaning close to be heard over the din. “In the corner.”

  “Got ’em,” Seren nodded. She took a couple more bites of the stew. She wondered if she should ask what the mystery meat was. Wherever it came from, it was somewhat edible. “I don’t see any Romulans.”

  “There is an old couple in the middle.”

  They looked ancient, drinking and smoking, hardly looking at each other.

  “How could I have missed them?” Seren wondered.

  “You are looking along the edges. Which is a good strategy. However, as we have both observed, one should not overlook the obvious.”

  Seren smirked then nodded her head towards the door. “Speaking of obvious.”

  A cloud of dust acc
ompanied two more bounty hunters strolling in. A species of humanoids which Seren could not identify. These two were new to The DrearGyre. And they didn’t mind that people knew. Clothes a little too clean. One had a red hat, the other one sported long hair. Both had armed themselves as if they expected a war to break out. Conversations dipped slightly as the men sauntered up to the bar. Everyone had secrets in The DrearGyre.

  “Keep looking at them,” Vain said. “But someone entered from the back just before they did.”

  “Seeing if anyone gets nervous?”

  Vain nodded. “I am unable to discern his nature. He is covered up quite well.”

  The noise level returned to normal. The bounty hunters grabbed a couple of beers and watched the crowd, sometimes laughing loudly. The shadowy figure kept to itself, nursing a drink that one of the waitresses had brought. Red Hat separated himself from his partner to sit with the old Romulan couple. They jerked into awareness when he bumped their table.

  The bounty hunters in the corner leaned forward. Stealing someone else’s meal ticket was SOP for these guys.

  Red Hat waved a waitress over who then brought them a pitcher of Romulan Ale. Or what was supposed to be Romulan Ale. Vain said the color was wrong. Probably fake.

  Red Hat seemed to be doing most of the talking, laughing and jostling the old Romulan male. The bounty hunter filled their glasses with the fake blue ale. The old female knocked hers back in two swallows. The old male just nursed his not looking at Red Hat. Finally, after what looked like a lot of cajoling, the old male shrugged. He then pointed