Ludicrous Defiance

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Original poster
Invitation Status
  1. Not accepting invites at this time
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
10AM - 10PM Daily
Writing Levels
  1. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Female
Romance, Supernatural, Fantasy, Thriller, Space Exploration, Slice of Life
Canada's Bad Day[/bg]​

There it was. A big stupid ship she was supposed to... do what? FIX? She wasn't a goddamed mechanic. She was weapons specialist. That fancy name for the person who likes to blow stuff up and shoot things. Why was she suddenly in charge of buying some piece of shit ship and getting it fly worthy? Temporary Captain, they said. WHATEVER. She just needed some sucker to handle this business for her, so she could run off to the bars and night of hot ass. Man she could use some ass.

Canada stalked in to the shipyard. That place that had all the old junkers. Somewhere around here was someone she could drag back to her piece of shit.

"HEY! Anybody around in here know how to be useful with metal and wires? A cute girl needs heee-eeelp!"
Killian had had his shop blown up. Again. He was going to strangle Tisma one of these days, he just knew it. He wasn't sure how it was her fault this time, but he was sure that it was. But that was neither here nor there at the moment.

No, this particular moment found him at the Junkers' Docks at the shipyard. The barely-spaceworthy hulk he'd had his eye on had, unfortunately, been sold less than three hours ago, which left him somewhat without a plan. He settled for lounging at the yard office, scoping out the other buyers. Especially the chick in leather pants and a halter top that looked like she could give his half-brother a run for his money on attitude. Damn, he'd tap that in a heartbeat.

So, naturally, when she yelled out her challenge, he stepped up to the plate.

Lurching to his feet, he drew himself up to his full six-foot-six height. Plus jackboots.

"Killian Orjados," he rumbled. "Best mechanic and junk-jockey this side of the Capital. Whaddaya need, hot stuff?"
Great! A hottie that talked like sexy trash! Those were the best for getting to do her dirty work. All she had to do was flash her boobs and giggle a bit. Canada flashed a wide grin.

"Well, hello sugar." Canada rest her hands on her hips, the pose giving just the right kind of view of her physique. She glanced around at the piles of junk everywhere, giving that 'dumb blond' expression guys loved so much. Now, Canada's hair was naturally black but she had it tinted a few interesting shades of green. Who needed natural hair colors, anyway? This was SPACE.

"Yeeeaah, see. I just bought this sweet little thing and don't you know, it needs SO much work. It doesn't even have a bangin' set of guns on it. You know how to mount guns doncha?" The toothy grin she cast was suggesting she had a little innuendo mixed in there too.
Killian chuckled, a deep rumbling sound. Chickie was clever, too, or at least thought she was.

"Sweet little thing, my ass. You bought that de-milled Akkadian gunship I had my eyes on, didn't ya, minx? Yeah, I know my shit. Hell, you give me three months and access to a junkyard and I'll have her so far over spec she'll be able to take on a light cruiser and win."

He ran his eyes over her one more time. He hadn't missed the innuendo - far from it - but in public, he preferred to stay all business. Or at least mostly business.

"You're gonna be helping me though. You'da been better off trying the dumb grunt schtick," he called back over his shoulder as he started off for the slip where he knew the aforementioned gunship was parked.
"Damn. Fucker called me." she muttered out loud, before she trailed after him. Canada rest her hands on her head as she caught up to keep pace with his walking. "Is that what that shit is? To be frank, I don't know jack about Flyers. I just know everyone on port wanted their hands on it. If everyone wants it, it's gotta be the best, right?" That was what Canada knew best. How to get her hands on what she wanted. What Canada wanted, Canada got. No matter who else was trying to get it.

So she wasn't holding back that smug little grin about stealing the ship out from under this guy. "Three months is too long, though. I need this thing tricked out in like... a day. Tonight. And I ain't paying you gobs of cash for me to hand around gettin' all greasy. There's a beer with my name on it somewhere in town. Unless you need help with the weapons. Then I'm yours in a heartbeat."
He snorted. "A day? Yeah, not gonna happen, not with just the two of us. That hulk is barely spaceworthy right now. I figure three days just to make it safe - six hours if I do some jury-rigging and you know what you're doing - and another day to get it combat worthy. Might be able to shave some time off that if you know where to find VXT-38 hypervelocity cannon mounts, MR-81 plasma resonance chambers, and parts for a Rekadi G350-Mk2 engine. You hire me on as crew, I can work on her on the fly, too. I could use a challenge."

It would also, he thought to himself but refrained from saying out loud, give us a chance to "get to know each other better."

"Hey, you know my name, but what's yours? Also, here we are. What're you naming the old bird?" he said, coming to a stop in front of the run down gunship.
Canada didn't even pretend to know what the hell he was talking about when he rambled off techy mechanic word stuff. There was just a raise of her eyebrow and that 'You're kidding, right?.' look. He wasn't. She settled for rolling her eyes and giving a heavy sigh as they stopped next to her new little treasure.

"Look, I can handle you on crew, no problem. But I can't do this whole take forever to fix stuff dealio. Get it in SPACE today and let me worry about the guns, and maybe, maaaaybe I'll buy you all that fancy shit you just mouthed off at me. ...As long as I don't have to help. I don't do helping."

He was about to argue with her about helping. So she totally interrupted before he did. "BAMBI. I think I'm going to name her Bambi. ~I~ am Canada. Just Canada."
"The 'fancy shit I just mouthed off at you' would be the stuff we need to re-mount the guns and fix the engine to spec." Killian rolled his eyes. "Bambi. Nice name. Gonna paint her pink? At least call her something vaguely threatening. Like Thumper, maybe. Or Tetanus Waiting To Happen...wait, no, that's taken."

He walked up, hit just the right spot on the hull, and stood aside as the boarding ramp came crashing down, then walked up it and headed for the engine room.

"And yes, you are gonna help me even if I have to nail your feet to the deck." He grabbed a rivet gun that had apparently come with the ship out of a locker and raised an eyebrow pointedly at Canada.
"What part of 'Not paying so I have to work too' did you not get?" Canada eyed the rivet gun, but she clearly wasn't all that intimidated by the threat. She checked a band she had at her wrist. Man, she could spare a couple hours, but if she headed off to the bars too late she was going to get stuck with all the freaks. The ones that never slept and smelled suspiciously like spacecrack.

"Kay, look, I got just enough time to help out with anything that's not gonna get me all greased up." Looking around the ship, it could use one hell of a good cleanup. Canada grimaced. She didn't have issues with hard work, but damned if she hated getting messy on her day 'off'. You only pickup the perverts when you smelled like grease and grime.

"And don't be knockin' Bambi, hotcakes. She's gonna be the most deadly bitch in the black once we're done with her."
Killian chuckled. "Bambi III: Revenge of the Deer! I tell you what, I'll spot you...seventy creds, you buy us a couple cases of Blaze Dog on me while you're out getting parts and we'll crack a few while we work." Killian shoved the rivet gun back into the locker and pulled a credchip out of his pocket. He thumbed at it for a moment, then tossed it to Canada.

"That's a hundred and eighty creds. Pick me up a toolkit from Mikhael's Junkyard while you're there, they'll know what I want. Credstick'll cover that and the beer. You'll probably want one for yourself, too. Work'll get done faster that way. All righty, then! Let's go see what I can salvage in these rattle trap engines...."

Turning and pulling an expensive-looking tool out of a cargo pocket, he disappeared into the engine room, shortly whereafter clangs, curses, and the unmistakable sound of arcing electricity began to drift out into the corridor.
Her lips curled in to a wicked grin. Oh, silly man. You never give a woman like her a credstick and tell her to go shopping. Canada didn't even bother to hide the look on her face. She WAS, however, going to behave this time. He was buying the beer and she needed a grunt. Canada only wasted a few moments checking out his rear end before she turned on a heel and headed out. Beer and Junkyard it was.

About two hours later, she returned. More than a dozen things in her arms, from the stuff he requested from Mikhael's to the beer and even something to eat. Like hell she was gonna bust her ass doing work without anything to eat while she was doing it. Canada dumped everything on the table in the middle of the common room. Man, why did she even need to buy a ship with a common room? Half the time these things got blown up and crashed in a fight, anyway.

"Hey hotcakes, bosslady is back!" Canada pulled out a beer and popped it open to take a drink. To be honest, she was surprised the ship was still here after knowing he was after it. The won him non-thiefy brownie points.
As soon as Canada announced her presence on the ship, Killian made his way out of the engine room - absolutely covered in grease, grime, and rust - and into the crew lounge. Also known as the common room. Grabbing a beer, he popped it open with his teeth and took a good healthy swig.

"Right, well, I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is, if I cannibalize Engine Three, I can get engines One and Two back up to spec pretty quickly. Down side of that is we'll be short an engine, but unless we're going to be running blockades, that should be fine for the short term. The bad news is that the weapons couplings and associated comp clusters are utterly fried. So, while we should be able to install guns easily enough, they won't have any power. If we replace the couplings, then they'll still need to be individually manually targeted until we can get new clusters."

Killian took another swig and gave Canada an unabashed leer before turning semi-serious. "Looking good, bosslady. Looking good. Incidentally, we may want to stock up on degreaser and rust remover," he said, gesturing to himself.
"Why Mister Orjados, do you think I'm super sexy?" Canada's smirk was wide! She set her bottle down on the table as she dug through one of the bags to pulled out a meatbun. Or bachenstrudel, or whatever the fuck those things were called. They meaty and tasty, and that's all she cared about it.

Of course, when she dropped in to one of the chairs, the metal in the back snapped and she went THUDDING to the floor flat on her ass. The scowl she cast at the furniture was dark, but she didn't move off the floor. She just pulled her legs in to cross them and unwrapped her food to take a bite.

"Obviously," she said between bites and reaching up to get her beer, "I'm gonna have to buy a lot of shit. Might as well make a fucking list at this rate."
"Damn straight you're sexy. I'd screw you in a heartbeat." Killian reached into Canada's shopping bags and stole a meatbun-thing for himself. Although he had the sense to prop himself against a wall as he took a biiig ol' bite, looking fairly smug at Canada's abrupt repositioning. "View's even better now."

Draining his beer and opening another, he continued on the other thread of conversation. "Lemme know when you're done eating, and we'll get started on the engines. Work before play, and all that."
Aw, wasn't he just the sweetest. If the man wasn't just hired as her first official crewmate, she might have taken him up on the offer! Too bad for him, she had strict rules about mixing business and pleasure. last time she fooled around with a crewmate, the guy got all clingy and 'I love yous' and it was soooo awkward. Man, if Killian was one of those shy boys she'd be really flashing her goods and give him a good cock tease. It just wasn't as fun when you knew they appreciated it!

"You're not gonna drop all this working crap are you? Persistent bastard. We're gonna roll with it, but soon you're gonna see why Canada and nitty gritties don't mix. My last baby? Totally blew half of her up. I wasn't even working with the weapons. Weapons I can handle. Fucking engine cores and wires n' shit is just crazy..." Meatbun gone in two seconds, Canada was reaching up the table to get another beer. Granted, lots of beer and working on engines wasn't going to help either. But it sure would make HER more entertained by it!
"Well, then I'll just have to teach you not to blow yourself up, won't I?" Killian finished off his own snack/meal/whatever and brought his beer and a fresh one with him as he ambled down to the engine room.

"Lesson one: turn off the power before working on anything. For engines, this means turning them off. Fortunately, these engines won't turn on for anything short of an act of deity at the moment, so we're safe."

Wrenching open the maintenance hatch on the number one engine with a loud screeching noise, he gestured for her to take a look inside while he took a pull on his beer.

"Take a look. What do you see wrong off the top of your head?"
Why the hell was she following this guy around and actually taking the time to listen? Canada had no idea! In fact it was pretty plain on her face that she was just humoring him, even while drinking her beer and leaning over to check out the engine.

" looks like a clusterfuck of shit." Canada gestured with her bottle. "That thingermajig is blown. You can see the scorch marks everywhere. Them things aren't even connected. ...And someone's pants are stuck in the cogs back there. Huh." Well, that was funny. Although, probably not so funny for the dumbass that lost them.

Canada leaned further inside the hatch, now pretty curious to see if anything else was lost in there. Like a dead body to go with them pants!
"It is a clusterfuck, true. Now, the 'thingermajig' is the main power distribution board, and without it nothing's going to work. The things that aren't connected are two halves of a thirty terawatt fuse, and I have no fucking clue whose pants those are. Engine two has boxers and a bra wrapped around the transfer axle. Incidentally, if you're ever going to fuck anyone in my engine room, it had better be me, and the maintenance hatches had better be closed." Killian took another pull on his beer as he spoke.

"Now, I want you to reach your arm waaaay down in there, directly below the pants, and find something that feels a lot like a giant trigger. That's the assembly lock. Pull it."
"Heh heh heh." Canada was currently snickering to herself about pulling his 'trigger' just under the pants. Nothing like a little innuendo after being told not to fuck anybody but him in the engine room!

Canada drank the last of her beer before she tossed the bottle over her shoulder at him. Then she was leaning down in to the compartment to try and reach the level. She had to brace her hand on the engine to keep herself from tilting forward as her feet kicked up and down behind her to hold her balance. Reeeaaching, she she finally grabbed hold of the trigger and gave it a good tug.

Something went crashing down in a clattering mess, including parts of the engine. Canada wasn't sure if that's what was supposed to happen, but was quickly darting her as out of the hatch before she became the next body lost in there.

"God damnit...! The whole freaking thing is falling apart!"
"Hmm." Killian scratched his head. "Apparently somebody pulled out the inspection brackets, too. Fortunately, the brackets are there more to keep you from smashing your head with the engine than the other way around."

Stepping forward, he grabbed the sideplate of the engine cowling, pulled the whole damn thing off, and set it against a wall.

"Right, step one is to pull the pants out of the gear assembly. While you're doing that, I'll pull the first-stage reaction chamber and power distribution board out of Engine Three. The fuse is getting replaced last so there's less chance of you frying yourself."