"Well, there goes your reputation as a committed bachelor," Erica dryly remarked to me as we watched Melhof take off. "You don't seem so worried about this possibly smearing your figure."
I gave an indifferent shrug. "I'm not so bothered about how folks perceive me." If anything, I'm arguably trying to make it worse so that I could somehow get out of all the work that gets dumped on me. Though I have to do it in a controlled manner, one that lets me at least moderate how fast it falls. It'd be quite annoying to be finally booted out while I was in the middle of something important to the state.
Ah, but I was getting a little ahead of myself with those future plans. I also was being a little rude by not being considerate of my partner-in-crime, who perhaps would be dragged through the mud similarly. "How about you? Would Harrison Armory act?"
She snorted. "Frankly, so long as we show up to work at least capable of piloting heavy machinery, the corporation doesn't give a rat's ass for what I do in my off time. Not unless I start leaking company secrets, but that requires me knowing any real ones to get into trouble over."
"I see. How about personally though?" I continued with mild interest. "Do you have anything there to worry about?"
"Commander, that also requires me giving a damn about it." She shivered, then brought up her jacket. "What I care more about is getting out of this chill. My civvies aren't exactly cold weather gear."
It did look a little on the light side. I didn't have such an issue with my own extensive wardrobe, courtesy of 'my' noble upbringing. So I chose to open the café door and hold it open for Erica to step through first, following in only afterwards. A blast of warmth washed over me, a familiar thing that was practically expected of any dwelling in Kavgarad. Though the source of such never failed to amuse me, with so many...colorful solutions found across the capital.
The heater itself was no dainty thing, instead being a rather large unit that would more in place onboard a spaceship than a dainty cafe. It was supposed to be mounted to a hull capable of holding its weight, but instead now rested on the floor like a radiator instead of the wall. Given what I knew about the system's history, this unit was more than likely a purloined thing, taken from some poor vessel during the dark time of House Hessin's raids on convoy ships. Then it perhaps was scrapped or, more likely, sold to the people who needed some form of working heating in their homes at least.
From there, the journey of how it ended up in this establishment was probably quite the tale. But one probably told rather lightheartedly and in good spirits, as few would ever turn down the benefit of such a powerful unit to chase the chill from their bones. It was probably only tuned to half-power yet the result was indisputable, with Erica going from shivering to slightly toasty in only a minute. "Much better."
"Maybe I should look into installing heated walkways," I murmured, recalling that some cities in my old world had employed the like. "Make it easier to walk about. Ah, but it'd be a considerable project to tackle for civilian infrastructure…"
My mutterings earned a roll of the eyes from the lancer, who huffed loudly. She wasn't one for listening to me ramble, I suppose, and claimed an empty table to sit at. I followed and copied her choice to shed some of the outer layers at least, so that we could really soak in the luxurious warmth from that temperature control unit.
I quickly glanced around and confirmed that the business was mostly empty, which lined up with what my adjutant had told me to expect for this time of day. Veronica had done a good job of finding someplace where we only just got a few curious looks, but were swiftly discounted as nothing more than perhaps off-world visitors at most. The proximity to the spaceport probably aided in that assumption that we'd happily take advantage of, to make sure that none would interrupt this outing.
Hm. I think I still had mixed feelings on this, but well, it at least got Erica chatting to me again. Which was a definite improvement. I could hardly let our best contact with Harrison Armory sour up.
"Seems like a self-serve place," I noted and rose up. After a small pause, Erica did so as well as we walked over to the counter where a young woman was surreptitiously reading something on a tablet. It probably wasn't anything appropriate for business hours given how she quickly turned the screen off to glance between us.
Her eyes widened and I bit back a curse. Shit. Maybe I'd been too confident about being realized?
"Why, hello there!" She leaned forward and batted her eyes. "How can I help you today, handsome?"
...Okay, so maybe I jumped the gun there. Looks like she was just flirting, which...I mean, I guess I'll take over gushing. Though she came on a little heavy for my taste, to which I tried to be gentle. "I'm sorry, but I'm just looking for a drink."
"Oh, yeah." To my surprise, she dismissed me as an afterthought, and...ah. Her focus wasn't me. "But darling, can I get you something? Tea, cocoa, something sweet as you?'
"Gin and tonic if you have it," Erica flatly told, apparently equally as unimpressed as me at the barrister's attempts at wooing. "Whiskey if you don't."
She hesitated, glancing between us. "But, um. We don't serve alcohol here. I mean, I could make an exception and raid my boss' stash…?"
Wow, did Erica really have that effect? I mean, considering she was a pilot ace in a setting that all but empowered them, maybe. But I threw a lifeline all the same. "How about coffee? Something that I do believe features in this café."
"We do have that, yes. On hot tap even that you can make fresh."
"Then guess I'll take that too," Erica grumbled and it was settled. Though instead of working some sort of machine behind the bar, the cashier handed us both empty cups with powder in them once the transaction was processed. The mech pilot let out a rather uncomprehending grunt. "The heck? Really?"
"I-it's coffee, darling-"
"Yeah, but ain't this the cheap shit?" She complained loudly while I quietly held the cup closer to have a good sniff. "Look, I know that coffee's not exactly a local specialty, but for the price we paid, I'd expect something at least fresh from the bean! I'm not thrilled about just some space ration shit-!"
"You can get fresh or you can get good," I finally interjected, placing a calming hand on Erica's shoulder. "And this is definitely the latter, isn't it? It's imported from, I'm guessing, Kamard's Scope?"
The barrister perked up and regarded me in a different light. "That's what the boss said the crate was labeled from!"
"That's not quite a short distance. How'd they get their hands on it?"
"Oh, it was from a passing Cosmopolitan trader. You know, one of those who just goes about all over to buy low and sell high wherever."
I let a hum and took in the aroma again. "I'm guessing that this might've been stored in the back of the cargo hold for a little while, as it has lost some of that strong scent. But you can still pick up on the traces of cinnamon and chocolate in it."
Erica's eyebrow came up when she observed me smelling the powder, before tepidly doing so. Her other eyebrow jumped to join its partner. "Huh. There is something to this, more than just the plain old smell of flash-frozen powder I'm used to. You know, the cheap crap."
"That's definitely spacer caff, but the origin does matter. Considering that this is from a planet that does make some quality produce, they probably went about putting more effort into preserving the flavor than normal." I lowered the cup and glanced at the cashier. "Course, we'll have to see how well it holds up. Do you have the hot water ready?"
"It's already out there. You just have to serve yourself." She pointed at the heater and I noticed then the pot there, nestled against an indent on the surface. That probably wasn't what it'd been designed for, but given the steam wafting from the top, I couldn't say it wasn't effective anyhow. "Do you need help though? Guess it's the least I could do for being a little rude."
"I think we can handle it. Thank you, however." I gave her a small smile that I think she took well, then headed over. I was eager to taste the drink now.
"Hmph." Erica gave the employee one last look, then made her way over to the refurbished unit as well. "So you're a coffee expert in your off-time?"
"Not in the slightest. It's just something that I picked up on while growing up." To be specific, it had been 'me' growing up in House Moores, being told to develop a very discerning palate as part of noble etiquette for appreciating extravagant meals. It started from a very young age even, to really 'impress' others so. That knowledge I had acquired at least never left me, even as 'I' got used to space caff with my naval career.
The pot had a cloth firmly wrapped around the handle that I warily took hold of. Once I was sure that my skin wasn't burning, I poured out the hot water into my cup and watched the powder dissolve into the liquid, coloring it in that typical brown shade so associated with coffee. With it came that aroma I had mentioned before, now properly awakened and flooding the air with that scent of a world very far away.
The smell definitely seemed to convince Erica that there might be something to this unassuming powder after all. She stepped up and wordlessly offered up her cup. I obliged, making sure to keep a steady hand all the while to make sure not a single drop of the heated fluid got onto her hand. Though I'm sure given how comfortable she was in a Genghis running hot, she probably could take the heat quite well.
My point was proven when, without even waiting for it to cool, she immediately went for a sip of the steaming drink and didn't pause at all at the temperature. It was almost like cool water for her, something that I checked myself a moment later and nearly choked from how it almost scalded my mouth. Somehow, I managed to swallow that gulp and hurriedly went for a napkin to press against my lips.
The lancer smirked at my reaction. "Can't handle a bit of the heat?"
"Not when it almost burned my tongue." I picked up one of the stir sticks and used it to mix the drink, allowing some of that steam to escape through the motion while also blending well. By the time we returned to our table, my cup had at least cooled enough for me to take cautious pulls from. "This is the sort of drink you should enjoy slowly anyway. Make it last."
"Eh." Almost exactly contradictory to what I said, she instead took another long pull that would have probably left anybody else screaming about boiling water down the throat. "I've got a better way to make it last."
I watched as Erica took out a flask and unscrewed to top to pour out a measure into her drink, about almost the same amount that she'd already consumed so far. The smell of alcohol was quite telling. "You were asking about whiskey when you already had some on you?"
"Hey, this is my little emergency reserve ration. In case I go somewhere that's godforsaken dry."
"An emergency reserve that you're using to top up on your drink right now."
"I can always buy more here at least, especially as you clearly aren't teetotalers." This time, when Erica went for her drink, she did so slower and with a smack of the lips. "Ah. That's a proper burn right there."
"I would be shocked if a mix of a hot coffee and alcohol somehow didn't." For myself, I kept demurely to small mouthfuls still. "But well, can you even taste it beyond all that? There's an interesting spice and sweetness to it all, a bit mellow, but I think that's unfortunately a consequence of the preservation technique. Something's always going to be lost unless you're spending inordinate amounts on proper packaging and delivery."
"Yeah, the real stuff can be insane." Her fingers tapped against the side of the paper for a moment. "I've actually tasted it even. Big, fancy party by the suits. Supposed to be one of those 'worker appreciation' things by the middle managers."
I guess when the company's a megacorp, your typical pizza party isn't going to cut it. Though I wanted to check the scale still. "How far did it go? What was the condition of the produce then?"
"I don't know how they did it, it was some sort of catering company hired by the company to do it. I remember how they actually came in with a big thing I'd thought was a freezer crate at first. But then they opened it up and revealed it to be like a little terrarium, a part of the planet that's supposedly been captured in that box." Her hands traced the shape in the air as she chatted. "Inside there were a lot of plants with what was supposed to be the coffee beans growing on it. They took it out, harvested it, then gave the beans for us to do whatever.
"Obviously though, we roasted them round the campfire and made brews from them." There was a sort of melancholic smile on Erica's face, seemingly recalling the taste. Then she sipped at the one before her and it vanished, replaced with a slight grimace from the burning combination of her drink. "Made us feel alive during the march."
I blinked, then completely reconfigured how I'd been framing that story. "Wait, so it wasn't like an office party?"
She chuckled. "Nah. That'd been on a campaign, back when I was part of the Colonial Legion. When I was pretty fresh-faced, all things considering."
...The pizza party comparison felt more apt then, though a little weird considering that it sounded like that'd been during a military campaign. But again, I suppose with how massive Harrison Armory was, delivering the occasional taste of extravagance to even their lowliest grunts was within their pocket allowance. "Huh. I was more thinking of it during some sort of corporate event."
"Oh, they do that there too. But then they'd roast it themselves, which takes away the fun in my book." She made to seemingly reach for a light, only to glance and note sullenly the NO SMOKING sign on the cafe's door. "I like feeling the heat myself, so it just wasn't as good. Other than that, I don't usually drink the stuff outside the cheap mix that bars might have if you ask."
"I see. So you're usually bouncing between the high-end and the low-end," I mused. "Nothing in-between."
Erica gave a little huff. "Sounds like you've got more coverage than me then. Though it sounds like your family was used to the high-end stuff all the time."
"Well, not always. Only just for when guests came around, or important functions," I clarified, recalling memories that were both me. "Most of the time, this powder form is actually something that we'd have usually. But even then, it's been a while for me since I've had it, since joining the navy. So this is a little nostalgic."
"Is that so?" She looked at me expectantly and I blinked, unsure of what she was looking for. With a sigh, the lancer motioned. "Come on, I spilled a story. Share one of yours."
"Ah." I thought for a moment before settling on one, half-faded one. "This one, I think, I was very young. Probably way too young to have a taste for it, but when the family wants to parade a scion about, the younger the better huh?"
"Still though, I think I remember really liking it because of that hint of sweetness. I really wanted a cup, so I, er, sneaked into the kitchen to have a sip."
"Ohhh," Erica drawled, earning a light blush from me. "Little cheeky scamp then, weren't you?"
"Well, I probably would've failed then because the container they were kept in was definitely in a cabinet taller than me. But I actually ran into somebody else then." Yes, the reason why that memory actually did stand out to me, both now and then. Family who I actually remembered. "As it turned out, there had been somebody else also sneaking in. It was my aunt, from my father's side I believe.
"She was having her own cup too, having gotten away from her rather overbearing fiance to get some alone time. It was an interesting coincidence." I laughed, remembering the deal struck. "We promised not to tattle on each other, then I got my cup of coffee with her help."
"How nice of her." Erica set down her almost drained cup down on the table and exhaled, shoulders slightly relaxing. "...Thanks for sharing that story with me. Feels...human, you know?"
"Same here." I mock toasted her and drained the last of my cup. "It's not often I get to kick back and relax like this too."
It certainly was a break from the frantic rush of seemingly never-ending work of a Premier. A very welcomed one. Erica and I knew that sooner or later, we'd have to exit the cafe and return to needing to be the leaders of our respective interests. Our conversation would probably be of little relevancy to anybody beyond this cozy establishment.
At the same time though, the fact that we were still talking mattered. Because from it, we could still carve or burn a path forwards if need be.