WilliamDArand
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Privateer's Commission 2 -ch 7-
🕑 Added 2025-08-02 05:12:24 +0000 UTCChapter 7
Ralph had gone back and forth, over and over, dropping off materials where Rhea had told him to put it. A small airlock that would be accessible to Delilah once she started in on the repairs.
Surprisingly, Rhea didn’t do anything in regards to the shuttle. Nor did she seem particularly interested in trying to get on the ship, or to separate Ralph or Delilah.
Truth of the matter was that she seemed more as if she wanted them to finish the repairs quickly, and leave. To get out of the prison and as quickly as possible.
To the point that she had even gone onto the shuttle and helped unload things with Ralph. Pitching in to get the physical work done without interacting with him much.
It’d left him feeling a bit strange and that he needed to be careful when she was inside the shuttle.
In the end though, nothing happened. On top of that, she didn’t even bother to scan the materials, bags it came in, or the toolst hemselves.
None of it.
Despite saying she would scan it, she didn’t.
Delilah had been more or less brow-beaten to begin the work through Rhea asking her if she could start working yet, with each and every delivery.
In the end, the work began, Rhea went back to her computer, and Ralph was left standing around, watching Delilah work through a remote camera. Except, Ralph had no idea how to guide her and realistically, she didn’t know how to do the work involved.
Or at least not professionally.
The team had planned out what to do for this though. They’d made several plans in fact.
One such plan banked on the idea that Delilah would be in a space suit for the repairs. Given that Ralph would be expected to send and receive communications from her to make the repairs happen, it was a good expectation that Xas could step in.
Step in and help Delilah do the repairs on the door. Replacing the plates in the door with her help, rather than Ralph’s.
Which left Ralph sitting there, staring at a tablet, watchign Delilah work with nothing to actually do.
As he sat there, Ralph would occasionally offer up advice and tell Delilah what to do as if she’d made a mistake. Because if he didn’t say anything, he figured Rhrea would become suspcious.
“That’s fine,” Ralph said in a legitimate correction this time. Delilah had been fussing with getting a bolt to completely pull two plates together. “Honestly the thread-glue you put on will keep it there. Trying to get the plates to push together perfectly will look nice, but some idiot with less hours on a stick than they’ve got years will bump that door at some point.
“If you look at the old plates, none of them were tight and flush. They were all warped and bent.”
“Oh. That makes sense,” Delilah answered and made a rude hand gesture at the bolt in question.
Ralph nodded his head at that and then stood up out of his seat. He put the headset down and stretched.
“So what gave me away?” Rhea asked him suddenly, causing Ralph’s heart to lurch sideways.
Standing there he stared at her as his brain struggled to put together a response to her question.
“What?” he asked, the only plausible question or answer that sprung to his mind. To act as if he didn’t understand at all, which, given the way he probably looked confused and startled, might be believable.
“You watch me the same way others do when they realize I’m a felon,” Rhea said, her eyes boring into his own. She had remained seated at the computer and hadn’t moved at all. The bubbly young woman hadn’t left it seemed though, as she gave him a smile, shifted to her side in her seat, and then plunked her chin down into her palm. Bracing her arm against the desk with her elbow. “I only noticed it a moment ago when you looked up at me before you gave your partner directions. It’s a look I’ve grown to recognize.
“So… what gave me away in the end? I thought I looked like a fairly good immitation of a prison guard.”
Ralph blinked twice, realized any type of obfuscation, denial, or deflection would be pointless.
“Tattoo. When you showed me your arms. I saw the corner of something at the interior of your elbow,” Ralph admitted. “That’s what confirmed it for me at least. Prison guards aren’t allowed tattoos of any type, for any reason, under any condition.
“On top of that, you didn’t scan anything, didn’t scan the doctor, didn’t scan the materials… nothing. Your uniform doesn’t fit either. The fact that you’re incredibly fit doesn’t help either.
“As someone who’s talked to a lot of ex-cons… there isn’t much to do for a lot of pepole, man or woman, other than work out. Excercise. Push ups. Sit ups. Pacing.”
Rhea frowned at that, sighed, and gave him a smile that didn’t belong on the ultra-fit prisoner. It belonged on a house-wife or someone like Marionette. She watched him for several seconds and then blew out a heavy breath.
“You’re not the repair crew, either,” she finally said. “If you were, you would’ve already tried to report the situation. Because it was a while ago that you saw my tattoo.
“It’s a unicorn, by the way. It’s pink and blue. It’s really quite cute! I only have that one as well as a super-pretty. It’s a butterfly on my shoulder. It’s low enough and towards the center that you can’t see it unless I’ve got on a really skimpy tank-top. I’m not really into tattoos, but I got them a long while back when I was a teen.”
Blinking at that, Ralph really didn’t know how to respond.
Other than the truth.
“Yeah, I’m not the repair crew,” Ralph confirmed. “I’m here to break a prisoner out and hire her as my pilot. I’m a Privateer. Going to claim her as cargo at some point and make her a Ship’s Mistress, which converts her to property, and would wipe out her sentence and turn it into a fine.”
“Oooh, that’s actually pretty smart. But hey, you know, I’m a pilot,” said Rhea. “I used to crew Land-Skippers, shuttles, and atmospheric fighters.
“I worked for the House Casta. Right up until I punched out a Confed officer who tried to get me to do things I wasn’t willing to do. It’s likely exactly what you’re thinking. I’m a lady not a whore, thank you.
“He ended up getting court-martialed and sent to prison, too. Didn’t stop them from court-martialing me, though.
“After that… well… I kind of knocked out a few prison guards who were rather impolite with me. Then I knocked out some prisoners.
“Almost killed a few, too. They were quite rude, I’ll have you know. Impolite wouldn’t even begin to describe them. Honestly, ever since I was sent to prison, it’s just been one rude person after another.
“Though you’ve been quite polite! Very nice. You don’t stare at my chest or make comments about my looks.”
Ralph thankfully had only noticed belatedly that Rhea was actually well built in the bust, but her ill-fitting uniform had turned her into a somewhat shapeless silhouette.
He couldn’t deny she was pretty though. She had an odd cast to her features that he only now realized was similar to the the mixed heritage types he’d met amongst the Calesat. Where they’d clearly had Confed genetics mixed in with their own.
It ended up being a rather pretty combination in the women and Rhea wasn’t an exception to that.
“I mean, you are rather pretty, Rhea, and if we’re being honest, that uniform does nothing for your figure,” Ralph offered up honestly. He figured that being honest with her so far had gotten him a great deal further than he’d expected, so there was no reason to deviate. “Otherwise I’m afraid I might’ve been rude and stared. Sorry.”
Rhea’s eyes glittered oddly as she took in his words, still watching him with the same bright smile she’d gifted him when he’d first walked in.
“Well,” she murmured finally. “I… suppose that’s alright. You didn’t do it, and you’re only guessing at what might happen, not that it did happen. I’m sure you’d contain yourself.
“Now, we should probably talk about where we go from here. I’m the leader for one gang, and the one mostly in charge. Our goal is really simple.
“Wait for a prison transfer ship to come, take it, and get out of here. Straight into the corridor, wait there for a time, then to the fringes of Confed or Blood space. Never looking back.
“The problem I’ve got as the leader of my gang is you and your two people, and the fact that I got a notification literally as you arrived that a prison trasnfer ship is on the way.
“If you’re here when that happens, it’ll get messy. If I let you leave before they arrive, it could get messy. If I don’t let you leave at all, eject the shuttle, and keep you and your two companions locked away… it’ll probably get messy. The prison ship mentioned your shuttle in their notification and following protocol in regards to it.
“Which I obviously don’t know. So… I’m in a bit of a tough spot here, Privateer.
“And so are you.
“Because you’re not supposed to be here. You’re likely going to have as many problems as I do. Just with… less repercussions. Being a privateer and all.
“In fact, I think if they find you here, they might even try to pin that attack that let us break out on you as well. And before you ask, all the prison guards that were alive after that attack, are still alive, though some are wounded. That doc is going to be treating some of them, but they’ve been told not to make a scene.
“We took over the prison because those explosions knocked out more than a few, killed several, and someone panicked, and opened up doors they weren’t supposed to. After that… it only took us a few hours.”
Rhea had never looked away from him the entire time she explained the situation. She only finally blinked with her last spoken word and her head tilted a bit further to one side.
He got the impression that despite her rather pretty and sunny disposition, her words in regards to her crimes were quite real. That her being here meant she was somewhat unhinged as well as being violent, bordering on taking a life.
Just not quite.
“Yeah,” Ralph stated in a flat and exasperated tone. “I definitely am not supposed to be here and I get what you mean.
“Well… what do you think than, Rhea? How do you and I get out of this mess. Because I can’t stay here for your plan to work and you can’t let me go easily if you want assurances that I won’t do anything stupid. Though, I’d make the argument that any type of idiocy like that on my part would only get me in trouble as well.
“As you said, I’m not supposed to be here. I’m just as much on the line as you are. We’re sharing a proverbial bed.”
“Oh, no no no, I’m afraid I don’t get into bed with just anybody,” Rhea polite declined with a energetic and girlish giggle. “My standards are very high and we’d have to be dating for several months first and… oh, you… I get it. You did say proverbial. Sorry, I’m a bit flustered.
“You’re the first man I’ve seen in about six years. Before you ask, I know I look like I just got out of college. I had longevity treatments done years ago as part of my officer enlistment bonus and years added to my contract.”
“Rhea, how do we work through this,” Ralph stated trying to guide her back to the conversation at hand.
“The pilot you wanted, whats’ her name?” Rhea asked.
“Janey Den,” Ralph answered quickly.
“Janey? You want… Janey? I mean… alright,” responded Rhea with a shrug of her shoulders. “She’s nice enough. She helped me paint my nails a few weeks ago. I ended up chipping them so badly in the fight with the prison guards and they look awful right now.
“Anyways, just a second.”
Rhea never looked away from Ralph and opened a desk drawer. She reached into it, pulled out a walkie talkie and thumbed the transmit button once. She held it down for several seconds, let go, then thumbed it once more, though this time was quite quick.
“Yeah,” said a voice on the other end after a beat.
“Where’s Janey Den right now?” Rhea asked in a saccharine sweet voice.
“Bunked down in the back. With the Shitters. She didn’t leave her cell. Stayed in it. Her and some others. Not part of their gang but not part of ours,” answered the voice.
“Thank you. Send a message to the Shitters and ask if they’ll make a trade?” Rhea asked, staring unblinkingly at Ralph. If this had been when he’d first become a Privateer, he might’ve been unnerved by the gaze.
Instead, he only found it was like staring at someone with a weapon.
Just a weapon of a different sort.
He gave her a broad smile instead, then dipped his head to Rhea.
To which she smiled at him widely in return, her lashes lowering partially. Her shoulders moved forward and her free hand came up to lightly press to her mouth.
Well damn.
It’s weird seeing such a girlish and very ‘pink’ personality on a tall drink of water like her, who’s a damn confederal felon.
Even Marionette isn’t as girly as Rhea and she’s pretty girly.
“Not going to happen. We caught Tanaka sneaking around the barricades and Brick fucking killed her. Put a god damn pip against her head enough times that her eyes popped out,” answered the voice. “After that they set fire to the barricades, managed to corner Lesh, and burned her to death. Whole place reeks something fucking fierce from all her god damned hair.”
“Ah, well that’s not very nice,” complained Rhea, her delicate brows moving toward one another. “Alright. Thank you.”
Rhea set the walkie down on the desk and sighed.
“It seems if you want Janey, you’re going to have to fight your way to her. Did you happen to bring any weapons? You’re going to need them,” she remarked.
“Of course,” Ralph said with an ugly chuckle. They hadn’t dared to bring explosives, since that’d likely set of multiple sensors that they expected to be here.
He did however bring in several hold-out blasters that he’d bought from Xas and others over the years. As well as his trophy sword he’d taken from the enemy captain he killed. It’d been made of a material that didn’t set off scanners, but also was significantly weaker in strength than his own sword.
Ralph picked up the headset, grabbed the tablet with one hand, and hit the ‘speak’ button in the corner.
“Del, the prisoners took over,” Ralph deadpanned. “Got a deal to get Janey. She’s in the back. Two gangs run this place. One gang wants us to fucking leave, they’ll help us get Janey. Grab the kit on the top and drag it in.”
“Got it,” Delilah said, sounding unsurprised. “Xas says she’s picked up a rather large ship heading our way. It’ll probably be here in three hours. Give or take.”
“Yeah, prisoner transfer ship. One of the reasons the gang wants us fucking gone,” Ralph answered. “Alright, get that done. I’m going to go get Liseth and make sure she’s fine.”
“She is,” Delilah answered quickly. “She found an unattended console, notified Xas that the prison was taken over by the prisoners, and gave her a backdoor into the whole system. Xas has been working at taking it over.
“It’s really slow headway as she’s doing it without tripping anything.
“That and she’s a fucking glorified chat-bot that’s been recording you in the bathroom. She’s a piece of shit for anything that isn’t making guns or black market, I guess.”
“Haha, fuck you, Del. I’m most certainly not recording him in the bathroom. Not at all,” Xas argued quickly. “I am currently working my way through the system. Much of it is destroyed, blocked, or locked. I do have access to door controls though! Want me to open all my doors for you, Ralph?”
Ralph clicked his tongue and deigned to not respond to Xas’ provocations.
“Well, Delilah,” saying her full name. He didn’t mind using the nick name she’d given him from time to time, but he still thought her name was too pretty to not say fully. “Hope you’re ready for a run and gun mission with me.”
“I’m definitely ready for that,” growled Delilah. “More than ready.”
“She’s sexually frustrated because of you, Haha,” answered Xas quickly. “She asked me earlier to sell her some—”
“Xas, I will reprogram you,” hissed Delilah.
Xas only laughed hysterically in that strange way of hers.
“We’ll go get Janey, and get out of your hair,” Ralph stated, his eyes moving back to Rhea. “Anything else you want from me as part of the deal?”
“The weapons,” Rhea answered.
Thinking on that, Ralph hesitated, then shook his head.
“Not all of them,” he countered. “The sword and one pistol in particular, are dear to me. I can leave the other hold-out blasters for you though. They’re energy types and they don’t set off scanners.”
“That’d be just delightful. Thank you ever so much,” gushed Rhea with another warm laugh. “So… what’s your name… Privateer? Don’t think you can’t tell me either. I’ve got a good memory for faces. I’ll just go looking around for you.”
“Ralph,” answered Ralph, watching the distinctly off-beat woman. “Ralph Turlan.”
Rhea gave him another light and airy laugh paired with an equally bright smile that made her look more like a very-tall housewife being told a joke.
Rather than what she was.
