Written by Benoit Goudreault-Emond
1. Meeting old friends
The loud curses that could be heard from outside the tavern confirmed that Nanaki was at the right place.
As he got closer to the tavern's open door, he could perceive two distinct sets. Some, rather sacrilegious, came from a gravelly, smoke-stained voice. Others, rather unflattering towards the lineage of the tavern's customers, were coming from a deep bass voice. As he came in, Nanaki immediately saw the owners of the two voices sitting in a table towards the back. Cid Highwind, air and space pilot extraordinaire, and Barret Wallace, director of the Corel mining operations. Apparently, Cid was paying Barret a visit in Corel. Although in the past, both men had been slightly wary of one another, they gradually started to respect one another, and finally became the best of friends. One would regularly visit the other's town and terrorize the local tavern's patrons.
Nanaki took a deep breath (he intensely disliked such places and the disgrace alcohol could bring to humans) and padded to the table.
As he reached about the center of the establishment, a few, then several pairs of eyes stared at him. Some of the patrons had their jaw hanging, practically touching the table they were sitting in front of. Nanaki didn't enjoy this. He tried to break the tension with some humor.
"There is no need to worry: I won't eat anyone, since I have already eaten my lunch."
The remark elicited little laughter, but the patrons stopped staring. They were still whispering among themselves, stealing hesitant glances at Nanaki. Still, that was better than having the whole bar stare at him.
Nanaki padded towards the only people in the bar who openly smiled at him. Predictably, those people were Cid and Barret. Barret had a huge grin plastered on his face, an array of white teeth in the middle of his dark-skinned face. Cid's smile was hard to distinguish, as his face was hidden behind a cloud of acrid smoke from his cigarette. However, Nanaki knew it was there.
"Hey, Red!" Cid called. "What brings you here? Have a seat!"
Nanaki complied, trying to fit his bulk on the chair, which was much too small to accommodate his rump comfortably. Cid realized how ridiculous Nanaki seemed on the chair, his paws trying to find a proper spot so he could have a stable seating position.
"On second thought, you may be more comfortable on the floor," said Cid.
"You are most probably right, Cid," said Nanaki simply, as he jumped down to the ground. He adopted a seated position, looking like a big red jungle cat. Only his head was visible over the edge of the table.
"Never figured out how ya can do that," muttered Barret.
"Do what, friend Barret?" inquired Nanaki.
"Sit on the floor," continued Barret. "It's cold. It's clammy. It's stone, we're in the middle of fall, and the owner's too damn cheap to buy coal for the furnace until snow comes out. That, despite coal being incredibly cheap around here."
"I grow fur," Nanaki explained.
"Hadn't noticed," Barret retorted dryly.
"So," Cid interrupted, "what are you doing here, chasing after a drunk?"
"Two drunks," Barret rectified.
"Speak for yourself," shot back Cid.
"Gentlemen," Nanaki said, in a quiet, serious tone.
Both men turned to him, suddenly alert, looking very sober all of the sudden. When Nanaki used this tone, there always was a reason.
"We have a problem."
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Benoit Goudreault-Emond April, 9 2001