Flash Fic Redux - Character

Eklav twitched as the door to Sones' shop was yanked open. The four Droughka who entered first were clearly bodyguards. It was their principal that was more of a concern. Wai-pru Dralpa was well known among the residents of New Madripoor Spaceport. Too vicious to be a "respectable businessman," not quite personable enough to be a "godfather," Wai-pru was a typical Caltiki crime boss. But even he was smart enough not to cause trouble here. Not with Sones.

Squaring his small shoulders, Eklav tried to put a welcoming smile on his demi-rodent face. "Can I help you?" he asked politely.

"I need to speak with your boss," Wai-pru replied with a dismissive wave of his fingers. "Go get him."

"I can hear you from back here, Wai-pru," came a ringing tenor voice from the workshop area. A moment later, Rayland Sones came out, wiping his slender hands with a shop rag. "And I'm pretty sure I know what you're after."

"Ever the astute businessman, I see." Wai-pru lifted a very heavy looking attaché case and set it on the counter, then opened it up. "Five hundred half-kilo bars of .999999 pure iridium. This is my operating budget for the commission I'm about to offer."

"And it's a commission I won't be accepting," Sones said firmly. He jerked a thumb over towards a sign which took up one wall, written in over three hundred different alien languages, surmounted by the Terran Standard words, "We Reserve The Right To Refuse Service To Anyone" in bold white letters.

"This is a fortune you're passing up. Think about this very carefully." The bodyguards started to shift on the balls of their feet.

"I've thought about it as long as I needed to, and the answer is no. Now you better clear out of here, Wai-pru, before you and your goons suffer a mischief."

"Is that a threat?" hissed Wai-pru.

"It's a strongly expressed desire by the owner and operator of this establishment. One whom, you know full well, doesn't take kindly to being bullied in his own shop." Sones crossed his arms. "I can choose to do business with whomever I please, and you displease me greatly. You take your blood money and your thugs and stay the hell out of my shop. Or do I have to enforce my edict?"

Wai-pru laughed nastily. "You don't have the dhekrith to do something that stupid!"

"I've been here a long time, Wai-pru. Take a look around the walls. Then ask me if I've got the nerve, the spine, the guts, the balls, and the unadulterated gall to pull the trigger on an egomaniacal hood like yourself." Sones smiled thinly at Wai-pru. "Might want to remember what happened to your predecessor the last time he came into this shop, demanding I do some work for him."

Scowling, Wai-pru closed the case, then stalked out the door, the bodyguards close behind. Eklav let out a heavy sigh of relief, then looked over at Sones. "You do know he's going to come back, right?"

"Probably," admitted Sones. "But there's always the chance he might really think about what happened to the guy he succeeded. Might even understand what the old saw about sleeping dogs really means."

"Ray, I know it's your shop and all, but why not just sell him some cheap piece? Make the sale and call it good."

"It's the principle of the thing. A human once remarked that if you really wanted to test a person's character, you had to give them power. Well, that's something Wai-pru has quite a bit of already. And his character is plainly on display. I don't see how my adding to that sum is going to magically improve it."

Sones glanced over at the door, looking thoughtful for a few moments. "Flip the sign, Eklav. We're closing early today." Eklav came out from behind the counter and flipped the sign to "Closed," then locked the front door. He followed Sones back into the workshop, expecting to go out the back door. Instead, Sones beckoned him over to the workbench.

On the bench was an automatic pistol, done in the ancient "Colt-Browning" style, but sized for a smaller hand than a human's. The wooden grips were elegantly checked. The slide was engraved with designs from Eklav's own people, sigils of protection and justice worked into the metal with a steady and expert hand. Sones picked up the weapon, worked the action to ensure the chamber was cleared, then set it back down. "Feel the weight," he said quietly.

Eklav looked up at Sones in shock. It was a rule of the shop that nobody touched a piece while it was still on the bench other than Sones himself. Sones simply nodded and gestured towards the pistol. Slowly, Eklav reached out and wrapped his hand around the grips, lifting it slowly off the bench. It settled in his hand as if made for him. The weight wasn't bad, present but so well balanced that it felt like an extension of his own hand. Slowly, he raised the weapon to look down the sights, the nanotech holo-reflex sight flickering into place as the micro-laser dot just above the bore lit up. For all the weapons he'd seen Sones produce, never once had Eklav been able to understand why his customers held his work in such esteem.

Now, with the pistol in his hand, Eklav finally understood. Sones had shaped steel and wood into manifested will. Power brought into physical existence, an unspoken promise, a silent warning. More than just the weight of the metal, there was something deeper, the weight of responsibility. And balancing it, the weight of character. "An excellent piece," Eklav said weakly, finding himself at a loss for words.

"It's yours, Eklav. You're a good employee, and I'm a firm believer in making sure the employees understand the product."

Eklav felt his jaw drop. "I-I-I can't--" he began to stutter.

Sones smiled back at him. "I trust you, Eklav. I'm happy to help teach you how to shoot, but ultimately, this is me telling you that you are not simply a clerk. You're a buddy. I trust you with my store, with my safety, and my life."

Eklav looked down at the pistol, unable to find the words he had to say. 

(Originally written on r/humansarespaceorcs)