by Taki Drake
Grand Opening
by Kat Lind
with Contributions from Nathan Howe
Stacey Nelson
Ryland Thorn
Book Two of
The Badger Hole Bar Series
Table of Contents
Title Page
Legal Stuff
Dedications
Chapter 1 – Hurry, Hurry
Chapter 2 – Neria 7
Chapter 3 - First Steps
Chapter 4 - Bowels of the Mine
Chapter 5 - Flight
Chapter 6 - Hole Between Worlds
Chapter 7 - Cooperation
Chapter 8 – Desperation
Chapter 9 – Threads of Magic
Chapter 10 – The Turning of The Wheel
Chapter 11 – Dreams and Dreamers
Chapter 12– Hostess with the Most
Chapter 13 – Slippers and Comfort
Chapter 14 – Crowd Control Central
Chapter 15 – Entrapment
Chapter 16 – Setup and Test
Chapter 17 – Reality Check
Chapter 18 – Relocation
Chapter 19 – Team Building
Chapter 20 – Staff and Anchors
Chapter 21 – Changing Face of Chaos
Chapter 22 – Spectacular or Spectacle
Chapter 23 - Taste of Things to Come
Chapter 24 – Jitters
Chapter 25 – PARTY!
Chapter 26 – Fun and Competition
Chapter 27 – Drunk with Life
Chapter 28 – Wine, Partners, and Song
Chapter 29 – Futures Past
Author Notes
Author Introduction – Taki Drake
Contributing Authors
Author - Nathan Howe
Author - Stacey Nelson
Author - Ryland Thorn
Legal Stuff
Copyright ©2018 Taki Drake, All Rights Reserved.
Reproduction of any kind is strictly prohibited unless written permission granted by the author.
Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Published by All Chaos Press.
Dedications
First and foremost, this book is dedicated to my husband. His support and devotion have created an environment in which I have been able to dare to extend myself into new areas with the absolute certainty that someone will always have my back. Thank you, John. Thank you for your love and support, and being there in my life.
This book is also dedicated to the great group of crazy writers at Phoenix Prime. Those supportive, encouraging, and crazy indie authors have provided guidance, encouragement, and participation in my growth as writer of fiction.
I have been blessed to have three of those authors contribute to this story, bringing their unique vision to the population of this growing universe of exciting and compelling characters and plots. Thank you, Nathan, Stacey, and Ryland. This is the first of our collaborations and one that shows glimpses of the wonders that we will create.
None of this would be possible without the incomparable Ds, Dorene and Diane. Editors, beta readers, cheerleaders, and a bright spot in my life.
My loving thanks to you all!
Chapter 1 – Hurry, Hurry
The entire bar looked like an anthill that had been just kicked open. There was constant movement of people coming in through the propped-open doors and rushing from room to room. Everyone was trying to complete last-minute tasks and deal with a myriad of problems. Today was their last chance to get everything in order before the bar was officially open.
Madrik was trying to keep his sanity, but it was going to be a close contest. Tomorrow was the big day. The Grand Opening of the Badger Hole Bar. Even though he was operating the only bar in a pocket dimension, his professional pride had kicked in. He wanted the opening to be amazing, flawless, and impactful. He didn’t want to be the best in town, he wanted to be the best. He and his symbiotic companion, the sentient building called the Badger Hole Bar, deserved nothing less.
It wasn’t as if they hadn’t been doing business up until now. In fact, the BHB had all sorts of beings wandering in and asking for drinks since long before they should’ve actually been open for business. It was both intriguing and scary, entirely unlike anything that Madrik had ever encountered on Earth. The bar manager and Anchor for the BHB thought back to the other bars he had managed, marveling at the difference.
If he had been opening a new bar back on Earth, he would’ve spent vast amounts of money on advertising and public relations. He would have employed a social media team, been passing out flyers, and doing all sorts of extraordinary stunts and activities to draw the attention of people. None of that appeared to be necessary here. Every night, the bar was full. The BHB already had a large group of regulars, many of them mercenaries. And they certainly could drink.
The crush of customers had increased in the last 10 days, exploding when they had added food to the menu. It had made an enormous difference in their customer base. Madrik knew that Brechal, the bartender, was smugly confident that only his nagging had produced the change. Of course, the outstanding food now delivered from their kitchen in a constant stream of mouthwatering smells and intriguing presentations from when the bar opened to when it reluctantly closed was only incidental.
With both food and drink on the menu, there was seldom an empty chair anywhere in the barroom on any night. Sometimes, people came for lunch and stayed until closing. The only real fights that they had to break up had been over the regulars claiming specific tables and the advent of new soon-to-be regulars.
The enthusiastic customers that jammed the BHB every day and night came for more than just food and drink. The bar itself offered more than numb senses and intrigued palates. It was a think tank of sorts, devoted to solving problems. This was the reason that Madrik had been called across dimensions to bond with the BHB. This was the purpose behind the pocket dimension and one to which he had chosen to dedicate his life.
Problems and solutions. Something that could be a force for good. This is why the Badger Hole Bar existed, and that existence gave meaning to Madrik’s life.
As the bar manager leaned on one of the sturdy tables that dotted the floor of the taproom, he felt the flush of warmth and the familiar mental touch of his companion, the sentient building now called the Badger Hole Bar. The contented hum that vibrated across the link had a subtle note of satisfaction and glee spicing up their shared feelings.
Up to this point, the bar has been open, but they hadn’t really advertised. Madrik felt like a circus master in a dimly remembered three-ring circus from his childhood. He had watched the man turn first one way and wave his hands, producing elephants and dancing clouds. The man had then pointed in a different direction, and his younger self had been amazed to see athletes on flying trapezes and costumed riders on horseback performing elaborate and showy feats. It had been so far outside of his experience that the pageantry had remained a bright memory all of these years.
It had looked like magic. The high drama and the intensity of the spectacular show had stuck in his mind for all of the decades leading up to now.
Tomorrow was the Grand Opening, and it was his circus. He was the man who would be standing in a figurative top hat, emblazoned by the spotlight, as a wild and wonderful show occurred.
Something would always be happening somewhere.
That was exactly what it felt like in the bar today. Madrik could feel the BHB happy in the background of their bond.
He could also feel the mingled anticipation and dread from his team. It was a massive effort by everyone, but no one was more focused than Brechal. The huge, demonic-appearing bartender was moving with the purpose-driven force of an enraged bull. It would’ve been dangerous for anyone to get between him and the objective of his task. Moving rapidly from side to side, Brechal was arranging his glassware and obsessively checking his alcohol inventory.
Every once in a while, Madrik saw that Brechal’s normally-concealed tentacles had emerged to provide additional manipulation or leverage on some specific task. The man was so focused on what he was doing that he was oblivious to the others running around him. If they got in his way, he either went through them or moved them. He had become an obsessed force of nature, the BHB’s own personal tornado spinning across the bar and leaving polished glassware and carefully arranged tools and supplies in his wake.
Thinking back to when he first came to the bar, Madrik realized that he had been afloat in a sea of uncertainty for the first few days. It had taken a while for the understanding to build between BHB and him, even minimally. It had been the beginning of what was turning out to be a warm and caring relationship, and it continued to grow.
The connection he felt with the bar was like a warm hug, a supportive presence in the back of his mind and in his heart. However, it was only when Brechal had come blasting through a door in the back wall that Madrik had started to feel like he truly belonged here. It took that event to make him become Anchored in this dimension and reality.
The fearsome-looking bartender had turned out to be Madrik’s right-hand man, a sometimes sardonic but always dependable presence in the bar. Someone that Madrik trusted. It had been a far cry from what he had expected when the demonic-looking colossal figure had exploded into their lives just a few weeks ago.
He thought back to the first night that he had seen Brechal. Madrik remembered being antsy. He couldn’t seem to settle into a chair and was pacing around the bar, unable to sit for any length of time. He couldn’t even add to his beloved lists. For someone who lived and died by his ability to organize tasks and objectives, taking great pleasure in checking items off, it was a significant warning sign.
His nervousness had driven him to his feet because he felt like there was a storm just over the horizon. He could almost smell the ozone, and the hair in the back of his neck was telling him that lightning was about to strike. He felt unsure, unsettled, and that set of feelings traveled across their bond and affected the BHB also.
Their partnership bond was still new and fragile. Awakening from its long slumber, the BHB was concerned about its ability to form a connection with such a naïve Anchor. With the weight of traumatic memory, the sentient building was protective of its new partner and frantic to avoid losing another Anchor. Its uneasiness had resounded along their connection, intensified by the BHB’s desire to prepare for whatever event was going to happen.
Catching up a staff that had appeared out of thin air, the following few minutes had been a blur to Madrik. He remembered telling the BHB to clear the space in front of the back wall. Unsure of why he had done that, the bar manager stared at the wall that led nowhere. Wondering for a brief instant if he had finally lost his mind, Madrik was amazed when the plain, cream-colored paint flashed into a different configuration.
Where there had been only the smooth texture of an unbroken surface, an ornate door had appeared. This was not something the BHB had done from the tidal wave of shock that came across their connection bond. The dread from the BHB and the adrenaline that raced through his system told Madrik that this was someone or something else punching through.
It was at that moment that Madrik realized that he had allies. Emesh, the mysterious provider of fresh fruits and vegetables, had backed him up instantly. He was not the only one. Newly introduced members of the community had also provided assistance without being asked. At that point, Madrik had not really known anything about them, but they were at his back without hesitation.
The sense of community here was strong, and Madrik realized that he had seen it then, and he continued to see it every day. This was a far cry from where he had lived on Earth. This was more than a community, this was a family.
The bar manager could touch that intense memory of the split second that he waited with his friends and allies at his back and the tense knowledge that something was about to happen. A dull roaring sound rattled the bar and kept getting louder and louder as if it were getting closer. Madrik had grabbed his staff more firmly in his sweaty palms and vowed that he would arm the bar with bigger weapons from that day forward.
Then it happened. The transformed wall had spewed open a portal, and a huge man had been propelled through it with great force. It was as if he had been thrown by some immense hand. Madrik had known intuitively that anything that could throw a 7 ½ foot mountain of a man that far was not something that he and his allies had any possibility of directly opposing.
The man had come through with such momentum that he crashed to his knees. The desperation on his face was plainly visible to everyone who was looking, and when he had scrambled to his feet, dashing back in an attempt to get back through the doorway, Madrik was sure that he had seen last of the stranger.
The crash as the man had run into an invisible wall was so loud that Madrik’s body had ached in sympathy. Something had prevented him from reentering the portal, and any possible return was blocked. The man had turned to look at them, and Madrik got his first look at Brechal.
It was not a prepossessing vision. The man was massive and intimidating, rough-featured with matted dark hair. Not the sort of person you wanted to meet in a brightly lit hallway let alone the uncertainty of a new dimension and a new community.
The difference between his perception then and the comfort he felt with Brechal now filled Madrik with an obscure sense of rightness. He had learned at other points in his life that trust had to be built, but he also knew that the intuitive connections that people made with each other were the lightning-fast foundation that determined if something could be built or not.
<< <> >>
Brechal was moving with concentration. Precise movements and focused energy allowed him to move in rapid sequences. He almost felt like he was in combat mode, with his feelings isolated but visible. He was in high action mode with the illuminated sight of someone who’s adrenaline was totally channeled. It wasn’t that he didn’t have emotions, it was just that they were removed, isolated for now and available when he wanted them.
That was just as well since the bartender alternated between being worried that no one would come to the Grand Opening and all of their preparation would be for nothing, versus an even more feared situation. This was one in which they would have so many people at the Grand Opening that he would not be able to keep up a reasonable flow of his bartending duties.
Without a backup bartender, it was all going be his responsibility, and he worried. In partial mitigation, he found himself obsessively arranging and rearranging the bar. He had already changed the layout of the glassware five times today. Finally, he thought at this point that he had finally gotten it right. Everything was arranged so he that could grab things with minimal movement. Everything needed to be just so, and then he wouldn’t have to make conscious decisions at each step. Instead, he could flow through it without hindrance.
Brechal moved with the precise movements and the metered force of a premier dancer. Every action was targeted and exact. Even his obsessive checking of alcohol supplies was perfect. Although his mind skittered in circles every time he looked at the inventory, he continued. Worried that their stock would not be enough, the bartender kept preparing.
The measured cadence of his hands and tentacles as they nudged a bottle a little bit to the left or wiped off the counter again with a rag did not telegraph the turmoil that bubbled up through his head and echoed down his hands.
He knew that Madrik had far broader responsibilities than he did. At least he only
had to cope with the bartending and not the entire affair. As if thinking about the man had acted like a lodestone, pulling his gaze to the bar manager, Brechal saw that Madrik was staring contemplatively at the back wall with its boarded-up door.
With a shock like a lightning bolt to his spine, Brechal looked at the doorway that had been his entry into the Badger Hole Bar. He suddenly realized that it hadn’t been that long since he’d come through it. How quickly he had adjusted to this reality and slotted into a place that could easily have been specially tailored for him.
It was a far different life than what he had led up to his entry into the BHB. Thinking back, the walls of isolation dropped, and the held-off emotions came roaring back at him. Staggering against one side of the bar, Brechal remembered.
Chapter 2 – Neria 7
By Taki Drake and Ryland Thorn
Neria 7. An unimportant world in an isolated, yellow-dwarf system at the very edge of the galaxy. If someone were reading about the planet, they would know that Neria 7’s gravity was 0.9 of Galactic Standard, and the days were a smidge over 23 hours long. From a distance, the view of the planet showed a purple marble surrounded by a cloud of little moons all pulling tendrils of the thin atmosphere in different directions like an exploding puffball.
Brechal thought that perhaps if God had sneezed at the wrong moment, he would have blown Neria 7 into the vast, empty void between galaxies and none of the pain and heartache would have happened. Perhaps if a stricken freighter had chosen to limp a little further and set down at the slightly more hospitable Neria 6, the seventh planet of the Neria system might have kept her secrets hidden.
But God had not sneezed at the wrong moment. And while the surface of Neria 7 was hostile, covered in boot-sucking sludge and decorated with small-but-frightening tornadoes that popped up almost hourly, the planet had nevertheless been given the classification of E5.
Tolerable. For a short while. Despite the oppressive heat and near-constant earthquakes.
