All or Nothing (Closed with IrradiatedWarden)

[SensibleSidekick]

The day at the run down old bar had been a slow one for the most part, the platform had observed. Even Prak Bouncer, the Krogan who was usually happy to not have to deal with customers for once, was sighing loudly every 45 seconds and looked to be trying to keep herself from banging her head on the metallic wall in frustration. Not that Tap was paying attention to such things.


No, the geth had work to do. Like making sure the bar was clean, keeping tabs up to date on the customers who were present, mostly regulars, and having the lastest vid of Blasto playing in the background of their processes.


Tap did their best not to mention they did that last part to Opso Boss. The turian would not be happy about that.


The geth was washing one particular glass for the 24th time, something they noticed many bartenders did in human vids and thus decided it was appropriate to do as well, when the door hissed open. Tap set the glass down, preparing to start another drink, thinking it the Vorcha male, who enjoyed something usually much too strong for his own good while still being cheap, that usually arrived at about this time. The platform paused when Prak stopped the customers. Perhaps these were not regulars.


"Welcome to All or Nothing," the krogan grunted, looking not nearly welcoming enough for that statement, "IDs," she added, accessing her Omnitol.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Ah, Omega, it was Beatrice's favorite shithole this side of the galaxy. She loved the smell of alcohol and bad decisions in the morning. Quill, on the other hand, did not.


He was taller than his companion, scrawny as though holding anything more than ten pounds might be a struggle for him. To say they were polar opposites would be an understatement. Where Beatrice looked wild and raw, her muscular arms framed by the cut of her vest, tattoos and scars winding together like a road map of experience and memory, Quill looked so average he could be mistaken for just about anyone. His hair was prim and proper, his eyes cautious and soft, and when they were stopped at the door to the bar, he felt his heartbeat quicken.


Beatrice grinned at the Krogan, showing her teeth in a crooked and far too charismatic smile. Her hipped popped to the side and she looked like she might as well own the damn place already.


"IDs? Usually I'm not one for complyin' to such things, but it's hard to say no to someone as pretty as you."


She lifted her arm, the Omnitol activating as she allowed her ID to be seen. She knew what it would say: Beatrice Luck, 29, resident of Earth. Then it would likely send off some kind of bullshit warning about being a known criminal or violent individual. It wasn't wrong, but whatever, it didn't matter in Omega, it wasn't like she caused trouble here, well, not much.


Quill followed her lead, intentionally not looking at the bouncer. He had read something once about Krogan taking it as a challenge if you looked them in the eye. He didn't know if that was true or not, but he wasn't about to find out.

 

[SensibleSidekick]

Prak Bouncer merely raised a brow ridge at the obvious attempt at flirting. She read through the readings quickly and sighed. "Alright. Don't cause any trouble and you and I won't have problems," she grumbled, giving a pointed stare at Beatrice before looking to the male, "And try not to pass out after one drink, alright, lightweight?" Tap's previous experiences with the krogan told them Prak Bouncer would be 'messing with' the human male to keep herself entertained.


As the two approached the bar, Tap adjusted their bow tie and dress shirt sleeves, doing their best to appear like a professional. Their headlight blinked, the color a light shade of blue. Opso Boss said it made them look less terrifying. Tap didn't mind. "This platform wishes you well," they said, voice lacking monotone as they tried to be welcoming, sounding more auto-tuned than natural, "What can this platform provide to you?" Tap's faceplates raised questioningly, pointed digits tapping gently on the bar surface to the tempo of Blasto's theme song. This was an enjoyable episode, in their opinion. The right amount of absurd action and plot mixed together.


"Give the pipsqueak water, Tap," Prak Bouncer called over with a chuckle, leaning back against the door frame with legs crossed. Tap figured it to be a joke, but their head tilted to the side despite this, "Anything stronger might kill'em."


"He is human, not a 'pipsqueak.' Regardless, this platform does not wish that," Tap added, looking back to Quill.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

"O-oh, uh, actually water will be, uh, fine. Thanks." Quill managed a nervous smile at the machine until he glanced behind him. That was a mistake. He looked down quickly at the bar. "Or soda. Soda is nice, uh, Tap was it?"


Beatrice snorted, nudging Quill's arm rather affectionately as she sat down at the bar, propping her elbows on the table. She watched the room, the robot, her eyes unable to remain still on anything for long. This wasn't a place she knew, and if shit was going to go down, then she wanted to know where the best place to take cover would be. He was a cute kid, a bit naive, but cute.


"Quill, mi hijo, we're celebrating! Splurge a bit!" The woman laughed, a loud and unrestrained sound. "He'll have one of those fun fruity drinks 'n I'll take the strongest of whatever you got back there, darlin'."


The young man blinked before starting to relax a little bit. Maybe one drink wouldn't hurt. He was watching Tap, then, eyes curiously moving over his mechanics. A geth. It was a geth. Quill had never seen a geth up close before, not like this. They were so interesting to look at. He wanted to know how it worked and, more than that, why they were there. Maybe, after they got their drinks, he'd find the correct string of words to ask.

 

[SensibleSidekick]

"Yes, this one is named Tap. Opso Boss thought it is fitting." Beatrice Guest's order had them pause to process. Fun and fruity? The geth took a moment to go through its database of recipes before deciding on one, a human concoction named after an old type of hard candy, and quickly moved about, collecting the necessary ingredients. While mixing the drink, Tap went through their inventory list and decided on an asari creation that even Prak Bouncer would only drink a small portion of, and only if she had no shifts for the next two days. That would probably do well for Beatrice Guest.


The AI set the drinks out, starting a tab for the two before attempting conversation, going over the data Prak had collected when they had arrived, "Beatrice Guest, you stated you are celebrating. This platform wishes to know what for, if it pleases you." Tap almost rattled off the list of human reasons to celebrate, but stopped itself before it could. Prak Bouncer told them they had a tendency to explain things too much. Cut it short, she would say. Tap's sensors picked up Quill's eye movements and the geth shifted under his gaze. They were used to stares, but usually ones that were followed by disgust or anger. This one seemed curious.


Perhaps they were friendly towards geth.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Quill looked down at the drink he was presented. It looked innocent enough. Picking it up, he took a tentative sip and awaited the sting of alcohol to hit him. When he didn't feel his tongue burn, his thin shoulders relaxed and a soft breath escaped him. That was good, well, better than what was usually given to him. Beatrice only kept whiskey on the ship. He had learned very quickly he didn't like that. She had laughed at him when he first tried it, but not mockingly, it had been a warm laugh, one given as she draped her arm around his shoulders.


That was a memory he liked.


"Just call me Bea," She motioned with her drink, tapping her finger on the side of it without caring about any kind of rhythm. "And we, my darlin' dear, are celebratin' because we got a hell of a pay check for crackin' skulls today and can actually afford to do so." Hell, she'd celebrate for just managing to be alive at this point.


"We're mercenaries," Quill quickly added, "not, uh, not murderers...if you were wondering."


Well, he wasn't. Beatrice still hadn't told him much about herself after all this time, but he liked to think she wasn't.


As Quill explained, the redhead wasted no time in downing her drink. It burned and...tingled in a way she wasn't accustomed to, but it was fun. It was weird, and...oh her head was starting to feel light already. This stuff was great, she'd have to get a bottle sometime.


Quill stared at her. That was probably a bad idea. She had a lot of bad ideas.

 

[SensibleSidekick]

Tap was her 'darling dear'? They did not recall this happening. Tap decided humans had odd terms of endearment. Also redundant ones. Tap did not mind. Beatrice Guest was a nice human, at least.


Their head tilted again as they resumed washing their glass for the 25th time, listening intently. Mercenaries were logical, since murderers did not usually get paid for their deeds. "This one is familiar with such work. Prak Bouncer has been kind enough to share similar stories after All or Nothing closes for the night. This platform is pleased for your good fortune." Prak Bouncer looked up at the sound of her name, but shrugged and looked away, watching the screen in the corner giving the news for the day. Something about having the Mass Relays finally up and running properly again in the last cluster to be completed. About time, she seemed to mouth.


"Would Beatri- Bea wish for another? This one advises caution. It is particularly strong." Tap's gaze returned to Quill, headlight dimming to a softer light, "It is to your liking, Quill Guest?"

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Beatrice hummed quite happily, letting her chin rest in her hands.


"Yeah, jus' one more, any more than that 'n poor Quill will have to try and drag me back the apartamento." The slip in language wasn't noticed by Beatrice as she turned in her seat to look at the Krogan. She looked bored. Beatrice could fix that. "How'd you end up workin' here, Prak?"


While Beatrice attempted to make a new friend, as she always did, Quill nodded at Tap's question.


"It's very good, thanks." He'd been sipping on it little by little. Prak had been right before, he was a light weight, but he was sure he could enjoy a drink like this without worrying about getting completely smashed. While he didn't mind a little buzz, he much preferred to keep most of his wits about him. "I don't, ah, don't know if this is rude but why are you on Omega? I haven't seen any other Geth here before."


There was genuine curiosity in his words. Quill liked tech too much to ever really be frightened by it.

 

[SensibleSidekick]

The geth paused for a moment, looking the strange word up before giving a nod, "Very well." They poured another drink before picking up their glass again.


Prak glanced over at the two, not moving from her position. Oh good the female was almost completely sheets to the wind. That didn't take long, "Was tired of getting shot at on a regular basis. At least here, it doesn't happen as often."


"Last incident was documented at 13 days, 6 hours, 10 minutes, and 5 seconds. 6 seconds. 7-"


"We get it, Tap," the krogan said with a shake of her head, "Anyway, I like this place better. Steadier pay and less hospital trips." She grinned, "And less lookin' like you do, sweetheart."


Tap almost didn't hear Quill over the krogan's answer and their head tilted, headlight blinking. "Inquiries about this one are not... rude. Search for knowledge is appreciated, Quill Guest." The geth shifted on its feet, pausing in its answer long enough to fill an order shouted down the bar to them. Once complete and receiving a mumbled thanks and a few extra credits their way, Tap continued, "This platform was found in a scrap metal shop by Opso Boss next to an ancient human arcade console, which is over there," Tap pointed to the corner where a Tapper game beeped its 8 bit tune continuously, "Once reactivated and given an update to all systems, this platform was given the duty of bartender for All or Nothing. It is this one's understanding that the added bonus of keeping tabs accurately make them perfect for the position." Their fingers tapped gently along their glass for a moment.


"Before this, however, this one is unsure of how it arrived on Omega."

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Beatrice snorted incredulously, her grin never once wavering. "Less lookin' like me? Mi amor, please, I'm fuckin' beautiful and we all know it." She still spoke with pretty good clarity, well, for her anyway. For that, she was rather impressed with herself. "But I get it, not all of us can handle the challenge."


The words, while made to rile someone up at their core, were spoken with a wink and a tone that assured Prat that Beatrice shouldn't be taken seriously, not that she ever should be taken seriously in the first place, of course.


"Interesting." Quill had managed to completely block out his idiot friend beside him when Tap started speaking. Instead, he observed the tapper machine for a long moment before his attention returned to the Geth in front of him. "Your boss must be a very lucky man, then. Though, I, uh, I wonder, do you ever think about, you know, doing something else?"


Because Geth had dreams too right? Or, maybe not dream-dreams, but desires. Or, Quill figured this one might. They seemed, despite their tone of voice, to have a bit of personality, to have an individual consciousness that the AI would have developed over time given the proper external stimuli and use of choices.


He'd have to run diagnostics to know for sure.


Oh, that sounded fun. Running diagnostics on a Geth that wasn't trying to kill them? Now that was a real reason to celebrate.


But for then he'd hold on to that idea, wait until he was sure Tap would at least consider the idea, or pass it through the consensus if that's what this particular machine did.


God, going to this bar was suddenly a really good idea.

 

[SensibleSidekick]

The krogan gave a roll of her eyes, "Let's hear you say that once you actually lose one-a those limbs instead of scratchin' it up real good," Prak wasn't easily goaded. It was a necessary skill as both a mercenary and a bouncer, in her opinion, so the words were essentially water off her back, "I'm sure we got use for an amputee somewhere around here."


"Turian," Tap stated, "He is a lucky turian, though that is purely a subjective trait and likely not one that could be measured well enough to decide if Opso Boss is lucky or not. As for this one," the geth's little metallic shoulders did their best impression of a shrug, "This one does plenty of things. It is doing several things right now." Like activating its recording devices as two individuals in the corner began to argue loudly. That was another reason Tap was a good fit, Opso Boss had said. Built in security equipment. The geth pointed quietly to the corner for the krogan to see, and she nodded. Prak had already been watching to make sure nothing got out of hand. Once certain things were being monitored properly Tap returned their attention to the human, "Perhaps Quill Guest could be more specific?"

 

[Interstellar Bun]

"I had a doctor who wanted to take my arm off once because I had a bad shoulder pain." It was an anecdote that didn't have much to do with anything, "almost succeeded too, don't like doctors much after that incident. Anyway, 's not my fault I'm too damn skilled to lose a limb. Besides, even as an amputee I'm sure I could take down half the people in this room."


Well, that might have been a bit of a stretch, but Beatrice was a boastful individual. Her smile faded when she heard the arguing getting louder, fluctuating in value. She turned to watch.


"The hell is their problem?"


More specific? Quill was quiet as he tried to think of the best way to phrase things. He wanted to make sure he sounded, well, smart.


"I mean, do you ever want to do anything other than tend bars? I-I'm sorry, I'm not trying to diminish the value of your work, or say you aren't enjoying it, but I wonder if you have the same desire to search for something better like most other sentient beings do."


Because Tap was sentient. He'd heard people argue that Geth weren't, but those people were either uneducated or blatant fools. After just a few minutes of talking with Tap, Quill didn't even question it. This wasn't just advanced programming.

 

[SensibleSidekick]

"Quill Guest is not diminishing value. This one does not mind bar tending. It is given pay, free maintenance, and something to do," Which was true. Tap liked their work. Well, as much as an AI could like their work. Though they did day dream, as Prak Bouncer called it. Watching Blasto had given them a tendency to idolize action heroes, usually the underestimated type. Tap found themselves to be on equal footing in such a case, "This one theorizes that, given the chance to do so- zzt!" As the argument escalated in the corner, one participant, a Batarian with a mean look and even worse mouth, had thrown his drink at the other, a Salarian with more scarring than one normally saw on an individual of his race. The Batarian drunk and belligerent had, instead of hitting his target, managed to wing the glass in Tap's direction, causing the geth to freeze for a moment.


"I told you that you were a terrible shot," the Salarian sneered, arms crossed, "It's why we lost our last gig, you idiot."


Batarian snarled, hand gripping the back of his chair, "No that would be your smug attitude and the stick up your ass, Salus,"


The two didn't notice the krogan who had marched over to their table, knuckles cracking as she made her way over, "You alright, Tap?"


"Systems functional."


The krogan growled, large hands enveloping the shoulders of the two males, "You boys wanna leave on your own two feet or would you rather faceplant out on the curb?"


"Piss off, reject. Don't you have some kids to conceive?" The Salarian hissed, batting her hand away.


Tap shifted lower behind the bar. They had seen this too many times to count to stay standing upright.


Last incident documented at 2 seconds. 3 seconds. 4 seconds...

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Beatrice stood, shockingly stead on her feet, as soon as she heard the comment the Salarian had made. She thought she knew his face. Had she mugged him before? Probably. That, or all Salarians just looked the same to her when she was more than a bit intoxicated. Quill sunk down in his seat and very much considered crawling back behind the bar to take cover beside Tap.


Beatrice on the other hand, adjusted the gloves on her hand, ones that stopped her from ripping the skin off her palms when she was throwing around heavy objects, as she strolled forward.


"Woah, ladies please, lets calm the fuck down here." Her hands were up rather passively as she half attempted to defuse the situation.


"Oh, so now this human thinks she can tell us what to do, look if we aren't afraid of the Krogan, what makes you think we're going to be afraid of a little whor-."


The Batarian didn't get a chance to finish his sentence and, instead, choked on his words when Beatrice's fist collided with his throat. He wheezed, gasping for air as he grabbed his throat. He looked awkward with how he ended up splayed in his chair, trying to start breathing again.


Beatrice shook her hand out, her knuckles having popped from the impact. They'd be bruised in the morning. Her blue eyes, foggy and dangerously kind, landed on the Salarian.


"Now, apologize to this nice lady and I'll let you keep your teeth."

 

[SensibleSidekick]

"It is advisable," Tap voiced in hushed tones, "That you find better cover, Quill Guest. Prak Bouncer's accuracy decreases when upset."


"Look, human, I didn't survive this business without learning to take a hit," Salus stated with a roll of his large black eyes, "It's not my fault he's a pansy and your butch over here can't take a damn hi-ECK!"


Prak seemed oddly calm despite the rage that tensed her muscles around the Salarian's collar, his feet dangling inches from the ground, looking more like a limp noodle than a battle-hardened mercenary. The krogan spoke quietly, jaw barely moving as her face stopped inches from his, "Take you and your asthmatic buddy out of here before your insides decorate the walls. I hear Salarians make nice paint."


This particular Salarian seemed to break the mold when it came to his species, displaying wit equal to that of a rock, "Who's gonna make me?"


The krogan merely smiled, an unsettling crooked twitch of her lips. Good. She was getting bored. "Tap, stay low."


"Affirmative. Quill Guest it is best to follow suit." And with that, the geth disappeared completely behind the bar.


The screech that came from Salus was music to Prak's ears as he flew across the room and into the wall with a satisfying thunk.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Quill barely had a chance to duck behind the counter. Slipping out of his chair, he hit the ground and pressed himself against the bar for his own protection.


He heard Salus scream and watched as he hit the wall and slid down awkwardly to the ground. He winced and was very thankful he wasn't the one who went flying through the air at the hand of Prak.


Beatrice, on the other hand, burst into laughter. One hand propping herself on the table, she gripped her stomach with the other as she cackled.


"Oh shit that was great. Why isn't that a sport? That should be a sport."


Wiping a tear from her eye, Beatrice managed to get a hand on her laughter just as the wheezing Batarian got to his feet. Still not breathing properly, he stumbled forward and grabbed Salus. There was almost a frantic nature in which he tried to get his friend on his feet and out the door. Beatrice was grinning wickedly as she watched, now leaning on the table so she didn't topple over. Man, when did that drink fully hit her?


She didn't remember, but this was fun.


The Batarian breathed out some kind of swear, though he didn't sound very intimidating with how his voice cracked like a boy going through puberty.

 

[SensibleSidekick]

"Welp!" Prak chirped, stretching out her shoulder. It had been a while since she did that, "Put them on the list Tap. Their ugly mugs shouldn't be too hard to recognize."


Tap, at this point had stood back up, walking from behind the bar in their bouncy, not quite human, gait to collect the drinks the two mercenaries had left behind, "Task already completed. As for sport, it is ill advised as most circles would not find throwing Salarians ethical." If one listened close enough, it almost sounded like the geth wanted to add 'Pity' to their statement but stopped themselves. "Are you hurt Bea?" They asked as they made their way back to the bar, glasses clinking in their hands.


Prak moved over to the bar, washing her large mitts in the sink and gave a look to Quill behind the place, "You okay, lightweight? Not supposed to be back here you know." She grinned at this, a much less intimidating smile than before.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

"I'm feelin' great, darlin', thanks for askin."


It was the truth. Fights always had a way of making her blood catch fire. She could feel it pumping in her veins, could feel the rush of life making her fingers tingle as she strolled back to the bar. That's what she was always chasing. She wanted to feel alive, wanted to feel real.


Laying on the ground, Quill was calming his heart when he heard Prak's words, when he saw her grin.


He made something of a yelping sound that was strangled in his throat as he tried to scramble to his feet, looking like a drunk bird in the process.


"Sorry! Sorry, I was- sorry. Pleasedon'tthrowmetoo." The last sentence came out as a single word as he darted back to his seat only to place his forehead on the counter and receive a warm pat on the back from Beatrice.


He wasn't good at being a person sometimes.

 

[SensibleSidekick]

Tap nodded absently, moving around the krogan with relative ease and they returned to their position behind the bar, setting the glasses aside to be cleaned. "You will not be thrown, Quill Guest. There is no need to be alarmed." The geth didn't see the problem, really. Prak Bouncer was just making a joke. She didn't normally smile like that, not with most customers. It would seem Prak Bouncer had taken a liking to the two. "Prak only throws those who, and this one quotes," Tap's voice changed, an imitation of the krogan next to them, "can't get their heads out of their asses long enough to realize they fucked up." The geth blinked, "This platform apologizes for the language. It is understood to be unprofessional."


"Thanks for the back-up by the way, kid," Prak said to Beatrice, drying her hands on the towel around the geth's waist. Tap seemed to stumble for a moment at the sudden pull, but righted themselves quickly, "But next time leave it to me. We don't want no lawsuits goin' around 'cause some hot head couldn't control himself." Even if it was a low blow and she was one second away from making good on her threat to repaint the walls with him. "Nice shot by the way. Haven't seen a batarian go down that fast in a good long while."

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Beatrice quietly mumbled something in Spanish about how people couldn't try to sue the place if they were dead. Her translator wouldn't pick it up, she was sure.


But the fact remained, both fear and death had a way of keeping people quiet. She saw no reason in trying to take the peaceful route when the violent one would get her to the end just as quickly. It was more fun that way, too.


At the compliment however, her grin widened.


"Careful Prak, you'll have me blushin' if you aren't careful." She winked. "But thanks, I've sucker-punched more than a handful of Batarians in my time. If you can get 'em by surprise it's fucking hilarious to watch their faces when they realize what's just happened."


"Bea, you take far too much joy in that." Quill mumbled the words to the bar.


She laughed. "It's the small pleasures in life that matter, mi hijo. Fine liquor, finer ladies, and fist fights."


Slowly, Quill sat back up, managing to calm himself down once he assured himself Prak wasn't going to eat him for saying stupid things.

 

[SensibleSidekick]

Prak's laugh was a deep rumble equal to that of a far off explosion. Oh she liked this one. "Assuming it isn't smashed in. Had a buddy do that once. I almost got shot from laughing so hard." Ah, she missed days like that. She didn't get the same joy from barroom brawls, but it was better than getting shot at, at least. "You two should come 'round more often. We need to liven this place up a bit."


Tap set a glass of water in front of Quill Guest, giving a gentle pat to the male's hand. Opso Boss said they needed to be a 'therapist' to the people here and Quill Guest looked to be needing some comforting. "All is well now. Dangers have been removed," the geth paused, head tilting before adding, "In the vicinity, to be more specific. Blue Suns and Blood Pack detected within 3 miles of All or Nothing." Tap then shrugged and began cleaning the dishes left behind by the troublemakers. Despite such news, the two did not seem concerned.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

"You think I would get used to this." After all, with how much time he spent on Omega, yet along with Beatrice, he'd seen his fair share of fights even if he didn't participate in them. Quill could shoot a gun, well, a small one, but his real skill was in dealing with tech. Drones, shields, hacking, those were the things that made him useful, that, and being able to fly pretty well.


Anything that required a hint of physical activity was beyond him.


"Thanks, Tap." He took a sip of water and hoped he didn't look too pale. He liked the Geth.


"You know, with the good company, I think we'll be comin' back." Beatrice mussed up her hair absently, other fingers tapping on the counter. "Doesn't have a fucking line to get in like Afterlife, which is great. Place is for tourists. Though, you'd think with all the damn angry merc groups around here you'd get more trouble."


That was the weird part to her. Even with a Krogan bouncer, she doubted this place could use too much livening up.

 

[SensibleSidekick]

"We ain't big enough for them to bother us. Helps the boss has connections elsewhere," Prak shrugged, leaning against the bar comfortably, "Won't tell us what they are though."


"Best left unsaid," the geth piped up, voice changing again to a more gravelly tone, likely imitating a turian's voice, "And it is this one's pleasure, Quill Guest. It is this one's hope you feel better soon." After all, happy customers meant repeat customers. And Tap seemed to be taking a liking to the two, similar to their liking of an asari that stops by every once in a while. A nice person, that one, "May this one provide you or Bea with anything more?"