Scratch shrugged. "Its more than likely. This ship has replacement parts for this whole room a deck over...If need be you could probably just replace the whole damn room."
Seeming idle for a moment, she hummed in thought. "I can definately pay you. Plus, i'll put some extras on the side, since you're being so tolerant about it..." She scratched the back of her neck, looking sheepish.
"Wasn't my fault we ditched into that asteroid, but I guess it was my fault for venturing out in the first place...but yeah, i'm sure we have everything."
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
Evangeline flipped down the microphone of the minimalist headset she wore, pressed a small button aside her earlobe and talked into the tiny, oval-shaped clump of foam.
Listen up gents.
I need about a half dozen of you beef cakes to board the ship so I can get some heavy stuff moved around. All volunteers assemble in the Bactrian and prepare for docking. There's some nice bonuses on the table for you all.
You gotta dock that thing at the left rear airlock. Should be open soon if not already.
A moment after the message had been relayed, the collection of vessels outside shuffled about and coagulated together. Various members of each vessel's crew disembarked into space, each in turn taking up residence aboard one of bulkier members of the convoy.
Evangeline refocuses her attention to Scratch. She speaks in a flat, matter-of-fact tone, as if what she were saying was a simple truth.
Someone's gotta show my lads around. or else they'll loot the joint.
Scratch just nodded.
"Gun or no gun?" she said, hand on the intercom.
"Octavia, we need you to watch some hired help. Don't let them nick anything."
The response was quick in coming, but distorted to the point where Eva couldn't quite catch it.
"Right. They'll be down near the airlock."
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
Evangeline stares for a moment, pondering her reply.
Gun? No.
Guns? Yes.
Wave some boobs in their face and they're like trained puppies.
Works with credits, too, actually.
Outside, the lumbering freighter entered the now-open airlock. In a repeat of the events surrounding their employers' CSV, the blast doors close tight and the room is pressurised.
From within the confines of the ship, a number of equally lumbering gentleman evacuate, greeting their new environment with a mixture of displeasure and suspicious inquest. Whilst all bearing their own unique features they bore one thing in common - the unmistakable aura of a thug.
"No guns." Scratch punched into the intercom, before shutting it off. "So then, spare parts? What should I get them to bring over?"
Meanwhile near the airlock, the milling group was met with their watchful eye. 'Octavia', as her everyone-but-Scratch alias went, was the hyperactive DJ's exact opposite. Straight, brown hair. Demure purple eyes. A perfect, unwrinkled grey suit. And a positively bored expression sitting on her lips. With a slight clearing of her throat, she caught the attention of the group, and, without speaking, she beckoned to them, leading them towards the spare room, the honestly quiet woman keeping a watchful eye on the group.
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
The motley assortment of fellows follow their apparent tour guide through the myriad hallways of the ship until the collection arrives at the work site. The men at the front of the procession stop upon seeing their blonde-haired employer, causing their followers to pile up behind them like an all-too-common freeway accident.
Evangeline points to the disabled motor and driveshaft extending into the ceiling.
I'm gonna unbolt the bearing at the top. You lads'll need to hold it upright so it doesn't fall over when the bolts let go and then move it somewhere else.
Evangeline pauses for a moment and eyes off her men.
Who wants to be a sweetheart and lend me their shoulders?
One of the men, an impressive beefcake standing a head over everyone else present, raises his hand and grunts. He then bends down and crouches on the floor as Evangeline - bearing a much smaller and lighter frame, nonchalantly slips her boots off and stands on his shoulders. With her hands around the shaft, Evangeline is painlessly raised to ceiling level. The man stands proud as if the load meant nothing to him whilst his boss reaches for a spanner attached to her belt.
Several swear words and unladylike grunts later, Evangeline stops just short of the last of the six bolts supporting the uppermost end of the motor coming undone. She looks down at her men who've spent the previous minutes staring up at their employers' assets in almost total silence, breaking their dazed expressions.
Grab on boys, this things' about to come down.
The men move and each of the five able grab ahold of the motor and driveshaft. Once the final bolt had been undone the tension held within the bent shaft was released, lurching the entire assembly to one side before being arrested by the group surrounding it.
Upon the release of the machinery, the men without hesitation begin hauling it away to one side. Evangeline's makeshift "ladder" bends over and permits her to alight, returning to the floor.
You got lucky, Scratch. I reckon I can get away without replacing the entire hub. I just need a really big hammer and a make-****-do-what-I-want-it-to lever. Then put the new bearing in.
Evangeline turns her attention to her coagulation of hired muscle once again.
Right boys. Follow the blue girl and find the replacement for that thing and the bearing for the top. Then haul it all back here and I'll refit it. Understood?
Scratch beckoned to the hired help, the men following her without much argument. She let a gentle swagger into her steps- she knew they were watching her, she didn't mind. She even smirked a little...some men could be so easily swayed by the female form.
Eventually, she reached the replacement storage, mashing the keypad lazily to open the door. Inside, after a shallow incline, were racks of stored parts, all marked and labeled, which made the search easy- within a matter of minutes, they returned, the driveshaft and the bearings in tow, carefully maneuvered through the narrow halls.
Scratch opened the door again, catching Eva's attention. "Nice bunch you've got here, Eva." she said with a smirk, standing to the side to let the cargo-carriers move the replacements within. "Very classy."
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
Scratch walks in on Evangeline on all fours on the floor, angrily smacking the side of one of the rigid coolant lines with a hammer retrieved from its' holder upon her belt.
After having exhausted herself, Evangeline gets to her feet, her messily-tied ponytail swaying in front of her as she comes to a standing position. It was then that she noticed Scratch had already returned.
Ah... just... readjusting the coolant line.
Evangeline bats her hand across her face to clear her wayward hair, pushing it behind her ear in one swift slight of hand. Returning the bruised and abused hammer to her belt she inhales heavily and regains her composure.
Gee, that was quick. Do you have a warehouse out there or something?
Eva refocuses her attention to her gentlemanly entourage.
It needs to go into the same place as the one that came out. That means lining up the bolt holes on the floor and making sure the plugs for the radiator and power are on the right side.
Evangeline points out both the original mounting plate and the respective connections required to her employees who promptly begun uttering a variety of masculine grunts as they heave the cumbersome device into place.
The men complete the manoeuvre and leave the motor sitting ajar atop what was left of bolts projecting from the floor, having not quite lined them up properly. Three of the four bolts had been snapped when the asteroid impact shifted the entire assembly in directions not built for, leaving only one usable. Evangeline lorded over the incomplete job and retrieved her hammer from its' holster once more.
A single, firm clobber afflicted upon the motor's skin caused it to slide off the head of the bolt and force it through the cutout made for it, bringing the assembly to rest in its' actual design location.
With a self satisfied smile, Evangeline turned to her men and pointed to the roof. As before, the same chunky bruiser lent his valued assistance, bringing Evangeline to the ceiling.
Satisfied that all work in the area had been done, Evangeline smiled slightly. Thanks, sweetie. You can let me down now.
Eva's muscle-bound ladder once again lowered himself as his passenger slid her hands down the driveshaft, supporting herself during the decline. Once Evangeline was safely on the floor, she approached the gentleman who'd so kindly assisted her, stood up on her tip-toes and gave the man a quick peck on his cheek as thanks for his efforts, quickly earning himself shameless hollering and whistling from his motley associates.
Nice bunch indeed.
Evangeline, with a cocky smile, returns to the floor and wastes no time in reconnecting the hydraulic lines to the base of the motor as well as the power and control cords, mastering each with the limited hand tools on supply around her belt.
Several minutes pass as Evangeline assembles each crucial component one by one, all the while her chaperone squad watches on intently - Evangeline's shuffling movements occasionally offering the keen eye glimpses of what lay underneath her camisole and casually-fitting jeanshorts.
Upon the connection of the last of the conduits, Evangeline stands to her feet again, dusting herself off.
"Well, I'd be lying if I said no."
Scratch smiled happily, her goggles sparkling slightly, seemingly unfaltering how she displays emotion.
"You're rather good with your hands, Miss McDowell. It'll work now?"
She let out a slight chuckle.
"You're a lifesaver...I don't know how long I could've gone without doing my duty. I would've ended up stir-crazy."
Leaning back on the doorway, Scratch hummed slightly in thought.
"Now...as for your reward.."
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
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