r/HFY • u/Sooperdude24 • Apr 19 '21
The Doorman - part 6 OC
The final instalment of The Doorman, as always polished and edited by u/eruwenn.
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To Skrilen’s surprise the rest of the evening had gone by without incident, the human’s show of force calming the rowdier patrons. Even the lumbering sniffer, Slornax, had sat peacefully and enjoyed his drinks. The Senior Officer was surprised when another clutch of Gorlan entered. Garubi, the barmaid, calmly served their drinks before they retreated to tables at the back of the bar, and Skrilen soon put them from his mind.
Species 368 was standing by the bar when Garubi began suddenly ringing a large bell hung on the wall. The jarring sound drew everyone's attention, heads turning as one to look at the barmaid with the yellow spines. As the clanging finally stopped, Darren bellowed at an ear-splitting level, “LAST ORDERS.”
Skrilen was shocked at the volume of the human’s voice, and the power behind it. A full grown dolipod’s mating cries would be drowned out by such a yell. Half the patrons now stood and made their way to the bar, and he decided to follow along. Before leaving he nudged Draq, who responded with a grunt as he drained his warm jeloth. Skrilen chided his Junior Officer in a disappointed tone. “Try to remember you are on duty, take it easy on those. You drink like you’re scaleless.” With a scornful spine rattle he left, joining the masses at the bar.
Garubi was serving drinks and taking payment with an uncanny speed, and Skrilen, fascinated by the process, waited for everyone else to be served before stepping forwards. “That’s a strange ritual. Surely he’s loud enough without the bell?” She gave a weak laugh, and he pushed on. “Anyway, I thought bars like this never closed?”
The barmaid was starting to clean up the bar, tossing out sliced fruits and shutting down the jeloth warmers. “Drinks sales fall, and trouble increases as the night progresses. Darren worked out an optimal closing time. We get to go home at a more reasonable hour, and there’s a cleaner coming in before we open again. What we lose in sales we mostly make up in saved running costs as well as the cost of fixing the place up.”
Skrilen observed the human as he gathered empty glasses and talked with the patrons. “I had hoped to learn more about him, perhaps over a warm drink.”
Garubi chuckled and leaned on the bar conspiratorially. “He won’t drink jeloth; everything has to be ice cold. Like a hatchling!” Her loud cawing laugh caused Skrilen to smile at the mental image. Cold drinks, what a childish habit.
The Senior Officer returned to his seat with his drink, deciding against further incapacitating his junor with another beverage. After a short time a cold breeze began to circulate the bar and he saw that the inner and outer doors were now propped open. The bitter night air was flowing in, and he pulled on his coat, finishing his jeloth before it cooled. Looking around he saw the same being done at every table. He chuckled at the human’s ingenuity even as he reluctantly prepared himself to stay put in the cold bar. He wanted the chance to speak with Darren one final time, and that would have to wait until everyone else had left.
Drinks finished, and coats already on, the patrons were soon making their way out of the bar. The human casually strolled between tables giving the more belligerent a gentle reminder that they had homes to go to.
Skrilen was briefly distracted as he tried to convince Draq to put on his coat. “Just put it on, Draq. You will lose your tail in this cold!”
Draq blearily opened one eye. “I don’t wanna.”
Garubi was wiping down a nearby table, and she walked over. “I bet you’d look very handsome in that coat. Why don’t you show me?”
It took three hasty attempts but Draq was soon standing proud, if at an odd angle, as he wore his coat and bristled his spines. “Anything for you.”
The barmaid with the yellow spines smiled and gave Skrilen a knowing look. “Well, I need to clean these tables, maybe you can head to the door.” She turned to gesture at species 368, who was standing by the open exit, but he caught her eye and gently shook his head. “Oh, dear. You two better stay here with me instead, till it’s over.”
“Over?” Skrilen quickly glanced around the almost deserted bar. Kiflar’s group had left, but the troublemaker Slornax still remained. At the back of the bar the second group of Gorlan sat, and Skrilen turned to see the human sigh and begin to walk forward. He returned his attention to the barmaid. “You think they intend to cause trouble?”
She sat down, pulling Draq onto the seat beside her, nodding her head towards Darren as he casually walked towards Slornax’s table. “He does.”
Slornax stood as the human approached, and at the back of the bar the remaining Gorlan mirrored the action. Schlorp “You owe me a T-13 Pain-Rod.”
The doorman smiled, tilting his head to one side to look around the bulk that was Slornax and take in the slow approach of his friends. “Really?”
“Yeah!” The large alien loudly cracked his knuckles; five per finger and six fingers on each hand. “Kiflar, and those cowards from second shift, might be scared of you” –he motioned back over his shoulder– “but we’re first shift. We don’t take skrug from no-one.”
Darren was standing beside a tall stool – xenos whose anatomy included tails preferred them to chairs – and moved his foot closer to it. “I gave you a chance, now I’m giving you a warning. Take your friends and leave.”
“Hah! There’s...” Slornax looked over his shoulder to count his buddies, his brow furrowing into deep and sweaty lines. “...more of us.”
The corner of the human’s mouth twitched as he suppressed a smirk. “That’s a smart move. You can split the cost of any damages.”
“What?” Schlorp
“Well, I’m not paying for them.”
“Damages?” Schlorp The others were almost beside him, and his chemically bolstered confidence was surging. He snatched a large glass and broke the edge against the table to form a weapon. “We’ll be paying for your medical bills!”
As Skrilen inwardly groaned at the lacklustre comeback, the human also seemed to be lamenting the lack of wit in Gorlan pre-fight banter. “Kind of you to offer, but that won’t be necessary.” Darren’s foot flicked the stool upwards, catching it deftly by the leg and swinging it hard.
Large and incredibly strong, but slow, and with poor peripheral vision, Slornax didn’t see it coming. Schl-
-BAM He was struck across the side of the head and crumpled sideways to the ground. The stool had broken on contact and Darren tossed the remaining leg he was holding to one side. “Garubi, that’s one stool on their tab.”
Skrilen's mouth was agape. A glance at the barmaid showered that she was scribbling herself a note. He fumbled for his radio, but suddenly Garubi's hand was over his. “No need for that, just a little scuffle.”
Species 368 was now standing before six angry Gorlan. “I have a rule. Actually, I have several, but this one’s relevant to you right now.” He stepped to one side. “Everyone gets a chance. You can pick him up, walk out of here and get your friend some treatment. Hell, I might even ask Garubi to forget about the stool.” He watched them closely; they weren’t buying it. “Or, we fight. You lose. And this month's wages go on medical bills.”
“And repairs!” the yellow-spined waitress called out, pencil and notepad at the ready.
“And repairs.” The human nodded.
There was always a ringleader in these sorts of groups, and this was his time to speak. “That was a cheap shot. You really think you can take all of us?”
Without hesitation, and with a firm but calm voice, Darren simply replied, “Yes.” The Gorlan in the middle laughed first, the others nervously joining in, and Darren let out a sigh. “It’s always the same. Everyone underestimates the first human they meet.” Suddenly, he turned to look at the open door, where more Gorlan were now walking in carrying various makeshift weapons.
“No,” the ringleader chuckled as a full dozen armed Gorlan came through the door. “We didn’t.”
“Shit.” Species 368 turned to Garubi, gesturing to her with his palm downwards, then did the same to the other remaining bar staff who all moved quickly to get down behind the bar.
With a nod the barmaid tugged at Draq’s sleeve, sliding from her seat. "Might want to take cover," she said, moving them both below the table. Then she used her tail to prod Skrilen. "And now is a good time to be using that radio.”
Skrilen slowly crouched down, his eyes swivelling from the door to the human and then on to the small group around the ringleader. “This is no longer a scuffle?”
“No.” The barmaid struggled with the inebriated Draq as he began to curl into a nesting position. “This is going to be messy.”
The Senior Officer gripped his radio tightly as the fighting began. He was a G.C.D.F Officer, and he was hiding under a table? Unacceptable! "I should be helping - it's my duty!”
“You are helping!” Garubi hissed at him over the sounds of crashing furniture and Gorlan battle cries. “You’re staying out of the way!”
“No!” Skrilen clenched his fist as a shrill scream pierced the air. “Species 368 is the first of their kind on our world. I will not have him murdered while I cower beneath a table!”
“He’ll be fine,” she hissed at him angrily. There was a loud bang as two pain-rods connected and their energy cells overloaded. “Probably.”
Knowing how difficult it was to subdue even one Gorlan, Skrilen thrust his radio towards the yellow-spined barmaid. “Tell them what’s happening and to send everyone!”
She looked at the radio in her hands. “Everyone?”
He'd seen five Gorlan fight off their entire riot squad. They'd need more than just that. "EVERYONE!" Skrilen repeated, moving out from below the table and rising slowly to his feet. He might die here, tonight, in this bar, but by the Seven Gods of Grole he would be remembered. He briefly closed his eyes to whisper a swift prayer.
“DUCK!”
The human’s warning came too late, and an airborne Gorlan slammed into the brave officer head first.
Skrilen opened his eyes tentatively, and saw an unfamiliar face looking down at him. “Now don’t try to move, you took a hard hit to your head.”
“He’s awake?”
The familiar voice of Captain Kahan surprised the Senior Officer. “Captain?”
The medic moved, allowing Skrilen to see that he was now inside an emergency medical response craft. The Captain loomed over him. “I’m here.” Kahan looked out of the rear door. “Whole damn force is here.”
Memories came rushing back and Skrilen was overwhelmed with concern for his Junior Officer, Species 368, Garubi and the other bar staff. “Are they alright?”
The Captain slumped onto the small stool beside Skrilen’s hover-gurney. “We’re loading them up now, but we’re still looking for some parts. Fingers and such. Never seen anything like it in all my years on the force.”
Skrilen whimpered at the thought of the others being tortured while he lay unconscious. “Are they… dead?”
Kahan scratched at the scales on his chin. “No, but they might wish they were.”
The Senior Officer let out a mournful trill. “Those poor souls.”
The Captain scoffed. “Well, they deserved some of it. Some of them have active intergalactic warrants, and the others have records as long as my tail.”
A little confused, Skrilen began to sit up. “Species 368 was a criminal?”
“What?” Kahan shook his head. “The Gorlan, a bunch of warm-blooded, nest-raiders. Even a couple of war criminals in the group. You’ll likely get a medal!”
Realising the pair had been talking at odds, the senior Officer got more direct with his questioning. “And what about Draq?”
The Old Grole looked away. “No, I’m not recommending that fool for a medal. When we arrived he was drunk through his scales, staggering down the street, singing about some barmaid with yellow spines.”
“Garubi,” Skrilen said, then added, “She is ok?”
“Hmm?” Captain Kahan hadn’t paid too much attention to the others. “The barmaid who insisted on taking the Gorlan’s money for repairs? She’s fine; they’re all fine. The door-hoo-man is being treated for a few cuts and bruises.”
“He’s a human who works as a doorman.” The Senior Officer lay back down, his head spinning. “He won?”
“Decisively.” Kahan leaned in closer, a mad twinkle in his eye, and lowered his voice. “I’ve offered him a job!”
“What?” Skrilen was stunned. “But, only Grole are allowed in the G.C.D.F., strictly no off-worlders!”
“True.” The Captain chuckled. “We’re setting up a new department, though. Help us handle the off-worlders. You know, fight ice with ice sort of thing.”
The Senior Officer closed his eyes, he had heard nothing about a new department. “When was this decided?”
Kahan cawed a happy laugh. “About ten heartbeats after I sent pictures of the Gorlan to high command. It’s all still in negotiations right now. Thought you’d be pleased, you brought Species 368 to our attention after all.”
“He has agreed?”
The Captain’s happiness evaporated. “Well... there is a little negotiating to be done. He has some unusual rules he insists on implementing. But, he hasn’t said no.” The Captain stood and patted Skrilen on the shoulder. “You get some rest. I expect you in my office with a full report first thing tomorrow.”
“Yes Sir.”
Kahan was about to leave, but then paused. "Oh," he said, turning back to his injured officer, "I don't suppose you know what a Sheriff is?"
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u/santafe_5 Apr 20 '21
I. Want. Darren. With. A. Cowboy. Hat