Arriving at the rest stop, Hoerk and Beaker noticed that today seemed to be a bit slow for business. This suited them perfectly, as Hoerk could land on one of the docks and cruise to a quiet enough spot to park the skimmer and trailer. Still making sure it was at least partially in view of the diner's window. Beaker took this small amount if time to soak in the new surroundings. Crates containing crystals and equipment appeared to be stacked all over the place, the nonchalant nature of folks and their newly purchased goods seemed so foreign to her. Hoerk cut his engine and slid his right leg over the seat to dismount. Beaker's mind was elsewhere for a second before snapping back and frantically dismounting. 'This is it, the rest stop' Hoerk began, walking along the side of the diner. Beaker walked behind him, and to his flank. 'There's only one rule here, keep your business to yourself'. Beaker gulped, eyes widening a slight bit from the word of caution given to her.
Inside the diner stood the bar, with a grill chef behind it, and a smattering of tables. Most of which empty. Hoerk lead Beaker over to the window nearest their skimmer, and sat at the table. Beaker sat opposite him, and looked around, taking in all of the sights, noises, and smells. After a few short moments, Hoerk passed her a menu, re-centering her attention. She studied it closely, deciding what she wanted to eat. Hoerk simply gazed for a second before placing it flat on the table and looking out to the skimmer outside.
A few minutes of Beaker looking at the menu later, a waitress arrived at the table. A young, slightly shorter than average human with shoulder length, wavy black hair and a fair, dark complexion. Alongside the stereotypical vintage wait-staff dress, she also had a slight smile and a youthful gaze in her eyes. 'So what would you two like?' She asked politely. Hoerk looked up at her to give his order.
'I'll have the sky shark kebobs and a large gullow pop' He responded, entirely neutral in tone.
'And I would like the cloud krill salad, please' Beaker chimed, still obscured by the menu. 'Oh, with a regular Gullow pop, if that's okay?' The waitress gave a wider smile as she repeated back the order. Turning around and heading back to the counter. The pair watched her walk away until they felt her presence was far enough away. 'I'm a little worried about how this project of ours is going to end' Beaker said to Hoerk, whilst still looking at the waitress. Hoerk probed her, asking how she thought the way she did. 'It's Repton. Oppensaur doesn't trust him. He doesn't think Repton is going to pay his share. Terradons have never been subservient to Raptors, so working by his commision has us worried he will leave us high and dry'
Hoerk hummed at Beaker's concern, holding his chin. 'Repton is normally the kind to twist arms, but we all share the same Terra, it wouldn't be the best for him to make the neighbours angry' Hoerk replied. Both he and Beaker paused for a moment as the waitress returned with their drinks.
'That's what I'm hoping for, too. But having scientists like us under lock and key is going to be advantagious to him. Oppensaur thinks Repton is going to look at the matters like that' Beaker refuted. Seemingly ignoring her soda drink.
'But like you said, you're scientists. Surely you can come up with something to hold him at bay' Hoerk said, the words poking at her brain a little.
'That's not the point. We shouldn't have to arm ourselves to stay free' Beaker responded, scowling a little at Hoerk.
'Squeaks, look at the atmos right now. Cyclonia is slowly getting more powerful as we speak. Atmosia and the Sky Knights keep losing Terras, and to add to all that...' Hoerk looked back over to the counter and at the waitress before looking back at Beaker and leaning in close 'I hear that there's a new team of Storm Hawks' Hoerk's comment caused Beaker to lean back in surprise, voicing her disbelief. 'I know. I hear it's only a bunch of kids, but they have the original team's ship and everything'
Not much time passed until Hoerk and Beaker recieved their food. Their time spent eating, chatting, and worrying about the ever looming conflict. Before long, their meals came to an end, and the pair felt their lunch was successful. 'So, Squeaks..' Hoerk stumbled over his words thinking about how approach his next sentence. 'Maybe you and I could... make this a regular thing?' Hoerk asked. Beaker sat up at the request. 'The time we spend together is nice. Unless... this is just until the job is done?'
Beaker groaned in thought for a second, 'I don't know... This isn't something that happens between Terradons and Raptors... And the labs have some long work hours...' Beaker eventually replied, relaying excuses in an attempt to disuade him.
'Repton has us on long trips sometimes, and I won't be about all the time either, but we always seem to be alright together. Maybe we could make this work? At least for a little while?' Hoerk reasoned. Looking out the window once more and pulling back to sit upright. Beaker smirked at the crack in his confidence, and huffed before replying.
'This isn't going to last. But I suppose it's worth a try' Beaker said, finally persuaded. Hoerk's eyes bolted at her, and his face turned to that of shock. His mouth almost agape, about to say something.
Yet, before Hoerk could speak, his gaze focused behind Beaker. it was a group of four Talons, Cyclonian pilots, walking outside and along the wall the entrance and around the corner, down the wall Hoerk and Beaker sat on the inside of. His emotion turned to that of quiet distrust. The Talons all spoke amongst themselves and laughed boyishly. One spotted Hoerk's skimmer and waved his hand to the other Talons to investigate.
'Take this, and go pay at the counter. I will be right back' Hoerk instructed Beaker, reaching into his pocket and pulling a green wallet made of scaley hide. Without missing a beat, Hoerk stood from the booth and quietly walked out of the diner, toward his skimmer.
The four Talons all stood around the trailer, interested as to what it could be. They chattered amongst themselves, murmuring small rumours as to the contents hidden inside. One grew eniugh courage to lift the lid, revealing the dissassembled turret. All four Talons gasped and cooed in excitement. 'Look at that! How far do you think it can shoot?' A Talon asked.
'I reckon about a quarter of a tick' One responded. Hoerk slowly and quietly approached behind the group, undetected. He stood another head in height at least over all of the Talons snooping on the trailer.
'No! Look at the quality of the components, half a tick, easy!' Another disagreed.
'I'd start at double that' Hoerk gloated, cracking his knuckles with loud and vicious intent. The four Talons all stood cold and stiff before turning and screaming in terror at the Raptor.
Inside the diner, Beaker fumbled with Hoerk's wallet, pulling out the right amount for the meal. After handing the notes over she looked over the contents once more, flustered as to how much of a tip to give. She heard Hoerk's bike rumble as it parked outside of the door, close enough ti trigger it to open. He revved it a few times to grab the attention of the distracted Terradon. 'Dump the coins, Squeaks! Let's go!' He shouted at her. She looked up at him for a split second befire unbuttoning a pouch in the wallet and tipping the whole thing upside down, sending change of all sorts of value crashing onto the counter, spilling in all directions. Stowing the wallet in her lab coat, Beaker jogged to the skimmer and climbed on in a rushed and clumsy manner. Hoerk, after checking she was safely aboard, sped of toward the dock, along the pier, and off of the edge. He waited for a few seconds so that they could fall under the clouds before deploying his wings, flying through the top of the wastelands.
The four Talons at the diner had all been thoroughly beaten and bruised, laying on the floor and groaning out in pain. The four had been discovered by their unit leader, Snipe, who initially wore a confused look as he was finding his lost Talons. Once he found them on the floor, his face turned from confusion to anger. 'What are you slackers doing?!' He bellowed, his words falling on the deaf ears of his injured subordinates.