With a slight swagger, Scratch walks down from one of the upper catwalks, the hangar in question being placed directly below the bridge for the ability to shoot directly down the elevator in moments.
"So you're the infamous Eva McDowell." She called out, smirking slightly behind the goggles, eyeing a photo before she put it back in her pocket.
"I'm Vinyl Scratch, as you may have guessed. So you know what you're doing, I hope?"
Walking down to the bottom of the catwalk, Scratch flashed a slight smile at the girl, drawing one of her chocolatey sticks from her pocket to nibble on. "When you're ready, I'll show you to the relay center."
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
Evangeline shut the lid on the brownish container adorning the flank of her little ship, then strolled around to the identical pod on the other side.
No, my name is Henna Onna. According to someone I know, anyway. What it means is anyone's guess.
She unlocked and opened the pod, revealing its' contents clearly. Eva stares at the stuff before her and, without saying anything or even offering a change in facial expression, quickly closes the lid a moment later, without retrieving anything.
During the brief period of exposure, the form of something one would swear to be a furry, black tail could be observed amongst some other suspicious fabric objects coloured in alternating black and hot pink.
Do I know what I'm doing?
The woman turns to face Scratch and cocks her head to one side, as if divulging her customers' words.
Do I look like someone who knows what they're doing?
Evangeline stares at Scratch with a straight, matter-of-fact tone; her torn jeans and oil-stained camisole offering no illusion of profession; in one hand is what seems like a package of assorted cable ties.
Scratch smirks slightly.
"Well that depends on what you're doing, doesn't it?"
She examined the rather interesting pod through a hidden gaze, before it was shut, it's contents left for Scratch's imagination to unpuzzle. Nipping off the end of the chocolate-covered biscuit, she watched Eva carefully.
"I really hope you don't plan to fix anything with cable ties. These axles can toast bread from friction alone. Believe me, i've tried."
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
Evangeline stares at Scratch with a blank, bemused expression.
If it's getting that hot you're doing it wrong.
Evangeline struts back to her displaced tool boxes, discards her pack of cable ties onto the closed container they came from, kneels down and picks each of her two boxes up with a respective arm.
Chuckling slightly, Vinyl nodded towards a large, locked door. The keypad was already locked in, and Scratch only had to press 'enter' to open the large, sliding gate, walking through the corridors. After a few minutes of apparently aimless wandering, Scratch stopped at one door with a grimace on her face, then opened it, the first thing apparent being the lack of lights inside.
Within lay a mess of mechanical equipment, all of which was in a disarrayed mess. Scratch didn't have a honest clue what most of it was...but she hoped Eva would.
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
Evangeline, having trudged heavy and clumsy tool boxes all the way to her current location, had not been in a very personable mood immediately prior to being previewed to the contents of the room. Whatever attitude control she had left had been instantly disposed of.
You.
Have.
Got.
To.
Be.
Kidding.
Me.
She stared upon the fractured mess before her. A cylindrical electrical engine about the size of a Libertonian male, six foot tall and six foot wide, stood at what was assumed to be the center of the room. From its' top surface a driveshaft extended into the ceiling, although it had been blasted from its' foundations some time prior. What was meant to be the carrier for a bearing embossed into the roof around the shaft had been thrust sideways and, at the same time, crushed against the heavily-laid ceiling plate it passed through, rendering it inoperable. A heavy stain of high-temperature grease lined the cold steel surrounding the injury.
The axle itself had been bent like a banana, the immense force involved transferred throughout the entire assembly, affecting the weakest components the greatest.
Evangeline took a single step into the dimly-lit cavity, only to discover a wet, sloshing sound under her feet. Coolant from a severed high-pressure line filled the bottom of the room, contained only by a small step at the door. Whence the engine had been routed off its' base, the sideways motion had severed one of the rigid coolant lines leading into the motor itself, allowing the contents to spill to the floor.
Evangeline stood in awe for a moment, absorbing the vast swathe of destruction that had been cut before her.
Scratch gulped slightly.
"Well...most of the spare parts are just a room across, and uh...most of the diagnostics say whats wrong, and the list wasn't too large."
She coughed slightly.
"I'll help if you want. I don't expect you to fix anything, really, but I'd much appreciate it if you could...if I can't get this fixed, SBC Radio One is done for. Finished. Zip."
She kept up the persona, but the wavering concern was evident in her voice. She meant what she said- This really meant more than a lot to her.
"Even if you can get it only minimally working...I'll owe you forever."
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
Evangeline stood silently for a moment, keenly eyeing off Scratch. A distinct distaste was evident in her expression as she pondered her target's words.
She turned again and glared at the immensely bulky engine she'd been asked to repair for a moment, before redirecting her ice-cold stare back to Scratch.
I need a way of getting more people on board.
I'm not even gonna try moving that thing by myself. I have goons for a reason, ya'no.
Scratch seemed impassive behind the goggles, as always, infuriatingly so. But the hard grimace on her face showed her indecision.
"Guh...well, the bays would hold a small transport, but...I GUESS I could bring up one of those blasted airlocks for that flying frankenstein of a ship you've got out there.."
She scratches her head lightly, thinking about it.
"They should work, but it throws off the whole system something nasty when we dock with another large vessel. Don't ask me why."
She shrugs gently, then walks towards a wall intercom. "Octavia?"
There was a sharp clatter as someone falls off a chair on the other side of the connection, and Scratch raises a hand to her forehead, leaning it against the wall with a deep sigh. "You were looking at the picture, weren't you."
A moment of silence came over the intercom.
"Of course not."
More silence.
"Maybe?"
Vinyl smirked, looking back at Eva for a moment.
"Can you power up the aft port airlock while you're up there?"
"'Course..."
"Thank you."
With that, she removed her finger from the intercom button, turning back to Eva, with a slight sigh, brushing back her unruly hair only for it to fall right back into place.
"There. That should give us...something to work with, I guess..."
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
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