King of Clubs

Chip and Lila have immediate chemistry, but will that be enough to see them through the dangerous times ahead?

Chip didn’t expect to find the bar open for business when he arrived at The Rabbit Hole on Madhatter Station. Not only is it open, but a beautiful woman is running the joint. He’s instantly attracted to her, but tragedy in his past has kept him from getting involved in any but the most superficial of relationships. This woman, though, she tempts him like no other.

Lila foresaw the coming of her own personal Charlemagne, the King of Clubs, though she’d had no idea he would be so handsome. A widow, Lila hadn’t expected to be attracted to the ex-soldier. Her female senses stir to life for the first time in years and she wants to get to know him better. A lot better.

When pirates plot to take control of Madhatter Station, it’s up to Chip and Lila to organize the resistance. With a handful of well-placed vets and a handful of pilots, they mount a defense, but will it be enough? Or will it be too little, too late? And what of the lovers? Will their love and belief in each other be enough to see them through one of the greatest tests of the human mind?

Chip arrived at The Rabbit Hole on Madhatter Station expecting to find the bar closed, with only the cleaning bots active. What he found was something quite different. The server bots were busy pouring and delivering drinks to the off duty crew of mechs and techs who sat at tables in the dim interior of the bar. They had mostly just come off shift from the mech core of the station, which was on the same level as the tavern.

The long bar itself was occupied by a small but solid group of retired soldiers, set apart from the rest of humanity by their sheer size, physical fitness level and military bearing. They didn’t fit in well with the rest of the populace, so if they made it to retirement age, they usually clustered together in small groups. It was easier that way. They felt more comfortable around their own kind. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that civilians felt more uncomfortable around soldiers, than the other way around.

The club called The Rabbit Hole was a gently whirling maelstrom of activity. Comforting rather than frenetic. It had a soothing rhythm of conversation, soft music, dim lighting and the appetizing aroma of the snacks and quick meals being served at various tables.
At the center of all the activity was a woman. Not a girl. No, this female had some years on her, but not enough to make her old, per se. No, she looked competent. Experienced. And absolutely appealing in every way.
If he had to guess, Chip would say she was a little younger than he was. Perfectly aged for his tastes. And the more he watched her, the more attractive she became.

She handled the crowd well, seeming to enjoy being the center of activity in a room filled mostly by men. Nobody disrespected her and she ruled the bar with a gentle hand. She seemed equally comfortable with the soldiers as with the civs, which was something unique in Chip’s experience. A clearly civilian woman like this was usually wary of big brutes like him and the other retirees sitting amicably at the bar.

Deciding to approach cautiously and do some reconnaissance before he announced his presence and position, Chip sidled up to the bar. The others recognized what he was, if not exactly who he was.
The woman herself came over to take his order. He noted with interest that she let the server and cleaning bots do most of the work out among the tables, but she kept the bar work for herself.

“What’ll it be?” She placed a coaster in front of him.

“I see you have Pearson’s Star Ale on tap. I’ll take one of those.” He slid his credit chit across the surface of the gleaming bar toward her.

She touched it and only then did her gaze rise to meet his. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened, just slightly, betraying her surprise. Though why she should be surprised to see a soldier like him bellying up to the bar, he had no idea.

“Um…” She hesitated a fraction before she visibly regained her composure. “Coming right up.”

He watched as she poured the ale. She was good at what she did, but her movements didn’t have the easy familiarity of a life-long bar maid. No, this lady was new to the profession. Competent but not quite polished yet.

He noticed that she set the bot to serve the bar before coming back to serve his ale. She placed the old fashioned pint glass in front of him and smiled nervously.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

“What?” Her startling words surprised an unguarded response out of him, much to his chagrin.

“You.” She seemed at a loss for words, but found some that didn’t mean much to him. “You’re the King of Clubs.”

“The what?” He counseled himself to calm. He needed to assess what she was telling him. Was this some sort of code?

She reached for a heavily embroidered pouch at her waist and pulled out a well-worn deck of cards from within. She shuffled through the cards for a moment, looking for something. When she found the card she wanted, she placed it on the bar, facing him.

“That’s you. The King of Staves in the Tarot deck. He’s the King of Clubs in the playing deck. This is how I knew you were coming.”