WilliamDArand
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Cavalier's Gambit -Ch 14-
🕑 Added 2024-01-09 04:12:01 +0000 UTCWayne’s hopes had been dashed.
The loot Tink had put together at the dump through sorting and picking through for several hours had cost nearly seventy percent of what they’d ultimately be worth if Tink tried to resell them later.
The owner of the dump seemed to focus in on the fact that Tink had pulled out particular items rather than what she’d done previously.
Pulling out entire assemblies and casings to get at pieces for later.
His awareness of that fact made him catch a few of the items that they’d hoped to pay little for and send through the sales window quickly.
He apparently knew her and that she had an eye for things.
“In other words, it’s useful to find parts, but we won’t ma-make a fortune,” Tink grumbled and took a bite out of the kebab she had in one hand. Her other hand was pressed to her middle.
Once again, her shoulders were somewhat hunched inward. Their lack of success had spent her morale, he figured.
“So the night-market, or other dumps where they don’t pay attention, or know me. Maybe other stations and things. I’ll have to give you a list since I can’t leave the station,” Tink finished. “We won’t be able to go to the same place repeatedly either.
“That’s kind of a shame. I had eyes filled with credits if I’m being honest. More than enough credits to get everything I ever wanted.”
Tink took another bite of the kebab and smeared the sauce across part of her mouth in the doing of it.
Ignoring the mess, she kept eating.
Wayne was being a bit more delicate as he went, not wanting to look bad as he walked around. He felt like there was an expectation of him that others were putting on him.
There had been a look to the man at the dump when Wayne provided his ID.
The same happened when he’d purchased the kebabs from the street vendor, though the man had recognized Wayne by his face alone.
Or maybe his size.
It didn’t help that Wayne did indeed tower over the inhabitants of the station.
He stood out.
“Were you considered tall for a Faesin?” Tink asked at his side, apparently having similar thoughts to his own.
“Average. Or just barely above average.”
“Clearly the average Faesin is much taller than the average elsewhere,” Tink remarked with a chuckle, taking another bite from the kebab, and finishing it. She tossed the leftover stick into a nearby drainage grate.
Her face had several smears of sauce on it.
Wayne peeled off one of his napkins in the bunch he held and gave it over to her.
“Huh?” Tink asked, taking it from him. “Oh.”
She wiped at her face, then her hands, and then walked alongside him, just holding the napkin in her hands.
He imagined her first inclination was to toss it to one side, but she was now rethinking it.
“I have to be a… I can’t… I’m your armorer,” Tink declared.
“You are most certainly that,” Wayne agreed.
“As your person, I need… I should… uh… I have to be more. Don’t I?”
“I think you’re fine as you are.”
Tink shook her head, nodded it, shook it, then hunched her shoulders further.
Wayne laughed, stuck an arm around Tink’s shoulders, and pulled on her. Her head ended up thumping against the side of his chest.
“Tink! I have no reason to lie to you. You’re fine as you are. You’re my armorer. All mine, remember?” Wayne promised her. “Do you think I’d have gone out of my way with that contract otherwise? You saw the rate section was blank. You filled it in.
“It was open because I didn’t want to lose you. Now that you’ve signed it, I can kind of admit I would have gone up on those rates even higher.”
Tink twitched against him, froze in place, then groaned, her posture collapsing inward again.
“It’s-it’s fine. I’m yours. The rate is fair. I don’t have any certs or-or-anything needed to get things signed off. If anything, you’re paying me too much,” Tink admitted.
“Not quite true, actually. I forgot to mention it but uh, well, I’ve already started the process to make you an official citizen of the station. I paid all those stupid fines off and what not to get it taken care of.
“As of midnight tonight, you’ll be registered. On top of that, I paid off your taxes and all that stuff for the year too. I spoke with the station administrator who I’d worked with previously and he helped me out. He didn’t seem to mind at all.
“Also, I’ve put in for your certifications. I figured, why not,” Wayne admitted and stuck a hand to the top of Tink’s hair. “Was when I got the contract put together. I had till tomorrow to cancel them in case you said no. Give it a bit and you’ll be all certed out. I figured you could just do the physical tests and pass that way.”
“You did-I’m a-what? You also-phys-physical tests? You can’t just take those. There’s more tests to take,” Tink hissed, her hands locking together in front of herself.
“Normally. I paid a bribe I guess, so that you didn’t have to do the written portion,” Wayne admitted. “Well, it wasn’t a bribe, I just paid a certification assertion fine. I asserted you didn’t need it and paid the cost. Still felt like a bribe.”
“Nnnnugh, Wayne, this is-you-no. No,” Tink grumped.
“Too bad, so sad. Already happened. Can’t have my armorer fretting over certs or whatever. No point in saying no,” Wayne allowed and then took the napkin out of her clutched hands. “I’ll be right back while you sit there and contemplate being a citizen at midnight.”
Having spotted a trashcan, Wayne veered off to it. He finished off his kebab and tossed the stick into the bin as he chewed. He hovered over it for a moment to wipe his mouth and hands off on a napkin, then dumped it into the bin too.
Turning around, he found he was standing in front of a Walker shop.
There were a number of parts and pieces laid out for various weapons, items, and components. There wasn’t anything whole, but there were clearly a number of things that could all be put together in a flash.
Must be some type of law.
Can’t sell a rifle, but can sell all the components of it.
Wayne hesitated there for half a minute, looking over the racks, before realizing he really didn’t want to leave Tink by herself. She seemed like a stray cat. A single noise away from being spooked.
Or trying to claw someone’s eyes out.
Heading back the way he came, he didn’t find Tink.
She was gone.
Standing there, Wayne looked one way, then the other. There was no sign of her, nor did there seem to be a disturbance anywhere around him.
Everyone was going about their business.
“Ahhh, I shouldn’t have left her frelking side,” Wayne cursed, looking around slowly. “Stray cat. Just like I said. Well… shit.
“I’m sure she’s fine. She grew up here. She’s probably safer than I am, in fact. I’m the one more likely to end up stabbed in an alley than her.”
Standing there, Wayne waited.
And waited a little longer.
In no time at all, he’d stood there for ten minutes.
Near about pretending to be a lamppost, for all the good he was doing from standing there.
It was an appropriate amount of time waiting for Tink just in case she came back. At this point, he could assume she went off home or somewhere else.
“Oh. Tools! New laptop computer, and a new phone,” Wayne said excitedly. “She could use some tools.”
There were a number of things that he knew Tink was missing. Tools that he himself had wanted when he was working on Patchwork.
Nodding his head, he had a goal and set off for it.
***
Flicking through all the contracts listed available, Wayne was annoyed.
All the simple loadmaster and loader jobs were gone.
In fact, all the jobs that’d been there the night before, were gone.
The only thing listed in the contract database for the station were combat duties. Most of them were all suited to people getting themselves killed as well.
Or so Wayne thought.
They were all requests to crew military drop ships, boarding ships, or scouting missions on Faesin.
Not one of those looked like something that would be worth their costs unless you were desperate or stupid.
Neither of which described Wayne.
Even after the expenditures he’d made on Tink, her tools and other things, he had more than enough coin to sit around and do nothing for five years.
Though after that he’d be broke, and his contract with Tink would break.
There was a ping coming through on his computer.
One that then showed up on his phone and buzzed away.
Picking it up, he expected it to be Tink.
It was, unfortunately, the station administrator.
Suddenly, Wayne was worried about Tink. That her being missing was actually something much worse than he had thought it was.
Tapping the accept button on his phone he held it to his ear.
“Administrator Liebenow, a pleasure,” Wayne said as politely as he could. He didn’t have a mind for politics or true pleasantries, but he did at least have manners.
Not to mention, the administrator was the single most powerful person that resided on the station. If there was anyone that could ruin Wayne’s life here, Michael Liebenow was chief most among them.
“Ah, yes, a pleasure, Cavalier Hesh,” Michael replied with a smile in his voice. “Thank you for answering. I admit I was a bit concerned when you weren’t responding to your emails.”
“Uh… if I’m being honest, Administrator, there’s too many to sort through,” Wayne admitted a bit sheepishly. “I’m trying to sort through it all, but there’s so many.
“For a time I considered hiring someone to take care of it and handle stuff like that for me.”
“Ah! You most certainly should do that. As a Cavalier, you should most certainly hire someone to manage your communications,” the Administrator agreed. “In fact, I’ll even put together a list of people that I think would be very useful for you.”
Frowning, Wayne considered his title again.
He’d researched it briefly, but he was starting to wonder if this was a bigger deal than he’d thought. While living on Faesin there’d been never a mention of a Cavalier.
From his cursory searches it was just a local title given to people deserving of merit.
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that. Just uh… make sure you put ‘hiring list’ in the title so I can search it up later,” Wayne requested. “Now… what can I do for you, Administrator?”
“I’ll make sure I do that. As to my call, I need your services. I’ve been tasked with sending a small contingent of pilots for a mission given to us by the House of Mirkil,” explained Michael. “As a House of Mirkil Cavalier on a Mirkil station, it would be best if you attended the matter personally.”
Wayne held in a sigh that threatened to escape. He held his breath instead and looked down to his shoes.
“I know what you’re thinking. I even agree with you. I’ve looked over the mission sheet myself though, and I think it’s quite doable,” Michael asserted. “You’ll be part of a team that’s being sent to retake a facility on Basal as it moves around Faesin-III. It’s a gun emplacement that… well… it’s really big.
“On top of that, the Walkers will be supplied by the Terran Confederation. They’re all space grade models in the Combat class. The rewards are… well, here, look at your computer. I just sent the contract.”
Not feeling particularly happy with the situation, Wayne turned partly toward his computer and then grabbed the mouse. In short order, he went to the email and opened it.
He found the Administrator’s email amongst the seven-hundred unread ones and saw it was indeed a military contract.
From the Terran Confederation directly, on the behalf of Faesin-III.
Wayne flicked the screen down to the rewards section.
Ten-thousand credits and a maximum of two standard days’ time.
All equipment provided, medical included.
Holy crap.
That’s… alright.
Is it just a sweep and clear mission?
“Can you give me a rundown on the mission?” Wayne asked as he scrolled back up to the mission parameters.
“It’s said it’s a sweep and clear. Mission ends after the platform has been cleared of enemy combatants,” Michael said.
Wayne was scanning over the mission briefing as he listened.
The stated mission completion was exactly that.
There was an optional extension that had to be agreed by both sides, but was listed in the contract. Which was the exact same wording that’d been put in his last government contract.
“How many are they hiring?” Wayne asked.
“Several hundred Walker pilots spread across multiple mercenary companies. Individual Cavaliers and pilots such as yourself are part of the recruitment drive as well,” Michael answered. “If you take the contract, I’d be more than willing to offer some rewards as well. The prestige of our little station having its own Cavalier, and them performing military sorties… it’s worth it for us. Station Mirkil-six is in the middle of getting an actual name, due primarily to your capture of the Raider.”
Shaking his head, Wayne really didn’t understand why everyone was making such a big deal over what he did. He hadn’t viewed it as being anything that noteworthy or amazing.
His options had been fairly limited when it went down.
Maybe it’s just because it happened at all.
What I did was a moral victory in a time when there weren’t any?
From all reports, Faesin’s military was ground down in an hour and there aren’t any reported kills at all. It sounds like the military was wiped out or surrendered completely.
“— add another seven-thousand credits to the sum,” Michael stated, though there was some hesitation to his voice.
“I don’t need the credits. There’s something else I need, honestly,” Wayne murmured after a short pause. This was an opportunity to get administrative bonuses rather than material or financial. Credits weren’t that hard to come by given his options. No sooner than the Cougar was fixed, than they could leave the station.
That and it sounded as if the Administrator didn’t have the credits to spare, given his tone. Wayne had recognized it, as he’d heard it often.
In his own voice as he spoke to himself in front of the mirror.
Psyching himself up for the day and what he could spend on food and debts.
“I have some open requests for my armorer. Certs, tests, citizenship, other things. Most of it is going live sometime today, some isn’t,” Wayne countered. “Her name is Tink. Any chance you can help me out there? I’m not asking for anything illegal, just to help smooth out anything that might be problematic. Your ability to smooth wrinkles would be deeply appreciated.
“Beyond that… maybe a few runs through some government scrapyards. She likes digging through stacks of equipment. Like a treasure hunter.”
“Tink? I-that’s not a problem at all. Your armorer you say? I’ll have it looked into personally by my assistant,” Michael promised, sounding incredibly excited. “None of that is a problem at all. We can make that happen. I’ll make sure your armorer is taken care of while you’re gone.
“The… the pickup time for the mission is an hour from now. They didn’t give us much time. This came up only a short time ago. The gathering point is on the upper layer upper floor departure bay.”
Immediately?
Well.
That explains the price tag on it.
“Well. Alright then,” Wayne drawled with a sigh. “An hour. I’ll be there.”
Wayne disconnected the call and set his phone down.
Tink hadn’t messaged him back yet.
“I’ll go to the ship and see if she’s there. I need to make sure she’s fine before I head out,” Wayne said to himself.
Leaving, Wayne headed out immediately.
He arrived quickly and looked around the hangar bay.
There were a number of people moving around. No one was near his ship, and he wasn’t too concerned about people doing anything either.
The amount of security here was significant. From auto-targeting turrets, to cameras, to soldiers at the exits.
Walking up the stairs to the hatch, Wayne pulled the handle.
It didn’t open.
Raising his eyebrows, he stuck his hand to the security plate that’d been added by station security. It pinged and the lock hissed before the bolt clunked into place.
Stepping into the cargo bay of the Cougar, Wayne looked around.
There was no sign of Tink.
Though the tools he purchased for her had all been delivered and brought inside, he noted. Which meant she’d been here at some point.
That lowered his concerns significantly.
“Tink?” he asked quietly, pulling the door shut behind himself.
Once more, there was no sign, and no response to his voice.
“Tink?” Wayne tried again, turning and moving into the cockpit.
Shades were pulled across the front of it. A number of panels and instruments were in various states of repair, or disrepair, and one of the three chairs looked like it was being reupholstered, but there was no Tink.
Moving through the cargo area, he noted that there was a new addition here since he’d left with Tink the other day. A partial Combat Walker cockpit was in the corner.
The safety structure, hull, and attachments were all there and intact.
Surprisingly, the internal cage where he would go as the pilot was a Faesin model, which was unexpected. Since arriving on the station, he’d noted most of the cockpits that he’d spotted had all been Terran Confederation builds, or from other locations.
He also didn’t fit in them very well.
“Look at my little armorer go. She’s already getting me a new Walker,” Wayne whispered, and then walked over to it. He leaned in and started inspecting it.
Immediately, Wayne saw that it was a composite tech, or CompO, model. A semi-rare type of cockpit that could fit nearly any type of component across the galaxy.
“How in the hell did you find this, Tink?” Wayne hissed in absolute shock, spotting the maker mark and ID number. “This is straight from the Terran Confederation labs itself.”
Leaning back, he stared at the cockpit.
“She found a Faesin internal-cockpit and got it to fit a CompO external. I got the best mechanic ever.”
“Guunh,” came a groan from one of the sleeping quarters in the back of the ship.
There was a clack, followed by a door opening.
A bleary eyed and under-dressed Tink stumbled out of a backroom that was likely her bedroom.
He knew she was living here, and wanted her to feel at home here, which is why he suddenly felt like a creepy intruder.
Wearing a t-shirt that was too small for her and a pair of very short shorts, Wayne got an eyeful of Tink.
He couldn’t deny that he’d found her oddly attractive despite her misfortunes, as well as admiring her unwavering personality despite the deck life had stacked against her, but he had a hard time not staring.
She had a body that would have gotten her any number of offers for photo shoots on any planet she stopped on.
Tink rubbed at her eyes, bounced along the hall with heavy steps, and then entered the bathroom. Never having seen him, or noticing he was there.
Leaving Wayne with a mental picture of her eye-catching body.
Grimacing, stifling a cough, Wayne quickly left the ship. Locked it on his way out, then stood there.
Staring at the door.
“Well shit,” Wayne cursed to himself. “At least I was kinda interested before I saw her like that. Even thought maybe it’d be a mistake to hire her cause it could get weird in the future.”
Wayne nodded slowly, sighed, and pressed his head to the door.
“Fuck, I fucked up,” he groaned, still unable to shake Tink’s dimensions out of his head.
“Two… two times five is ten. Three times six is eighteen,” he droned. “Eight times nine is seventy-two. Eleven-times twelve is… is… frelk her body is amazing.”
Closing his eyes, Wayne thumped his forehead against the door.
He was rapidly on his way to screwing up his working relationship with his armorer. If he didn’t start pushing the brakes on his runaway thoughts, he’d just say something stupid around her later.
It’s because I didn’t work around women enough.
I’m starved for female attention, and even the little amounts she’s giving me is almost too much.
I’ll just… I can’t see her now.
I’ll send her an email and leave a note, too. That’s fine.
That’s fine.
Comments
Marlon Rutlin
Definitely enjoying the story, wondering about Tink....I feel there is a bit more mystery to her than we're being shown......
