Board Thread:The Mech Bay Bar'n'Grill/@comment-24866242-20140514220513/@comment-24930445-20140523002708

Ry had been going over the sound system for tonight’s entertainment. It had picked up an annoying buzz last night, and he was pretty sure that the DJ had been cranking it well past its limits while he he had been off planet.

“Daddy? Daddy!” Ilrea’s voice echoed through the now silent Kit-n-Kaboodle club. “Dad!”

“Yeah?” He pulled his head out from under the console and stood. “Over here.”

Ilrea smiled and made her way to the DJ booth followed by her best friends Brandy and Vee. “Hi Daddy. The Vextis is back. We’ve been cooped up for so long, we’re going to the mall. Can I have three-hundred creds?”

Ry blinked at his daughter. “Hello to you. No hug?”

Ilrea sighed in the way only sixteen year old girls can, yet came into her dad’s arms and hugged him tightly. “Daadddyy!! We’re going to be late! Can I have the money or not?”

“Three hundred? What in the world could possibly cost three-hundred credits?” Ilrea missed the gentle smile that played across Ry’s lips as he held his daughter. Pulling away, she nearly bounced with excitement.

“There’s this pair of shoes to die  for! Five inch heels, holographic rainbow with ankle straps! They’re on sale, Dad! They’re only four-hundred. I’ve been saving and I have a hundred. Please?!” She added the last in hopes that it would help her cause. It didn’t.

“Four hundred credits for a pair of shoes? I don’t think so, Ilrea. You’re too young for hooker heels anyway.” He caught the roll of Brandy’s eyes and the ‘told ya’ smirk on Vee’s face even as his daughter gasped in horror.

“DADDY!” She knew with his remark, however, she wasn’t going to win so she turned to go.

“Ilrea. Here’s a hundred. Find something cheaper.” In her sixteen year old way, she sighed in exaggerated exasperation and took the credits he had produced from his wallet before pecking his cheek with a kiss. “Thanks Dad.”

The trio was halfway to the door and Ry had gone back under the DJ console when Ilrea stopped suddenly.

“OH! Daddy… LaeAnne told me she couldn’t get you on comm, but wanted you to know they rescued some guy named Ben-Something.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Brandy chimed in, providing the correct answer. “Stinel.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">He nearly broke the console as his head connected while he tried to extricate himself rather rapidly. Rubbing an emerging lump, Ry blinked at his daughter. “You could have led with that, ya know.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">_____________________________________________

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">It took a long while for Kat to come down long enough to actually let Ben go and even then, it was for the moment it took her to punch his arm. Hard.

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">“Ow!” He had only been able to swipe at the spot before she was suddenly in his arms again, crying, laughing, babbling and, in general, behaving very un-Kat like. He smiled softly as he held her tightly. It felt good to be home. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Eventually, she pulled herself away and swiped angrily at her face, leaving a streak of engine grease where tears had once stood. “Where th’ hell hae ya’ been??”.

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Ben glanced around, looking for something to at least wipe away some of the grease she had transferred onto him but, finding nothing, simply shrugged at her. “Limping home at half light speed for about…” She could see him do the quick calculations in his head. “...well, it was eight years for us.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">She sighed heavily. “Ten years, Ben. Y’ve been gone ten.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">He frowned slightly, muttering to himself “Yeah, that’s about right, I think… time dilation and all."

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Feeling another crying jag coming on, she shook her head and moved around the other side of the car, grabbing his beer off the fender as she passed and taking a long drink from it. He thought about complaining at the theft of the first beer he had had in eight years, but found himself smiling instead. He could hear her rustling around before she reappeared moments later minus the overalls and most of the grease, yet with a clean rag which she tossed at him.

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">“We know aboot th’ Colorado. Found her in pieces… scrap salvage on Veta 6.” She leaned against the fender and took another long drink from his bottle.

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">“I won’t ask how long it took.” He glanced around the Grill, noticing the fact that, while not in the best shape, some work had been done in restoring her. Looking back at Kat, he shook his head. “No. I want to know. How long did it take?”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Regardless of his assessment of the Grill, she knew what he meant by his question. “Five years.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">He looked shocked. “Five years before someone found her?”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">She shook her head. “Five years a’fore we found her. Yer a hard man ta track, m’boyo. Nae much o’her left when we got there. Nearly missed wha’ there was.”

<span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">Ben sighed. “I didn’t think there was much of a chance of <span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-style:italic;white-space:pre-wrap;">anyone <span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;"> finding her. We were far off the normal shipping lanes.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">“Aye, we know.” She suddenly shoved herself away from the fender of the ‘51 and, linking her arm with his, spun him around and headed for the table area. In the distance, the familiar roar of a 1500cc engine could be heard and Kat smiled. “Ry’s here.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Moments later, the ancient Ninja screamed into the mech bay, laying down yet another layer of rubber as Ryax slid the bike to a stop. As the noise cut suddenly, Ry just stood there still straddling the bike. “Son of a bitch.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Ben just kind of shrugged at him and smirked slightly. “Hi, Ry. You won’t believe the day I’ve had.” He smiled sardonically at his repeated, and still unappreciated, joke.

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Kickstand down, Ry threw a leg over the bike and, still staring at Ben, absently rubbed the now larger bump on his head. Again he muttered “Son of a bitch.” before making his way to the table Ben and Kat had been about to sit at.

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Kat smiled, stepping away from Ben and holding her arms out as if in presentation of her brother. “The prodigal hae returned.” As Ry reached Ben, Kat turned and made her way behind the bar.

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">“Ya better ‘ave a good reason fer not bein’ dead or I’m ganna kill ya!” She glanced up just as Ry playfully slugged Ben on the shoulder in pretty much the same spot she had. She winced in sympathy before grabbing another beer, a tankard filled with ale and her own bottle of whiskey. By the time she returned, the men had taken their seats.

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">“Good reason for not being dead… Because the shuttle never made it back to pick us up when the core breached?” The drinks Kat had been holding hit the table a little harder than she had intended as her hands shook. To their credit, the boys took no real notice though they did take their respective drinks before they spilled.

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">“Core breach? Wha’ d’ye think happened, Ben?”  Kat watched as her brother began the story of his ten year absence, saving what they had learned until he had finished.

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">“Well, we were already off the lane when we got the distress call. Little ship registered as the Boc Bás.” He noticed Kat tense up as he mentioned the name, but rolled on. “When we found her it was clear there had been some sort of accident. She was drifting, main power was down. No subspace. We actually received the call on radio of all things. Not sure how long she had been transmitting by the time we heard her.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“So a team of us took a shuttle over and docked. The crew was in bad shape. Marissa started triage and sent the worst off back to the Colorado. Some of them couldn’t be moved though so she stayed. The rest of us set about getting control of the ship.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Kat interrupted. “Who else? A’sides Marissa, I mean?”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Ben took a deep breath and a swig of beer before answering. “Jarrid and Marissa, Chaz, Jeff Cartwright, Chico Alvarez, Sandy and me.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">They sat in silence, taking random sips from their respective drinks as they remembered the people he spoke of, and the people not mentioned. At some point, as Ben drifted into his thoughts, Kat absently reached across and took his hand.

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">He squeezed her hand and took another drink before starting again. “I don’t remember exactly how much later it happened. We had been working for a while when we heard the security chatter start up. What we think happened is that one of the rescued crewmen fled sickbay and made it to the engineering section. That’s when the core breach happened. Luckily the Colorado was far enough away that she didn’t take us with her… We spent the next two months getting the ship repaired to the point where we could limp home, but there was no fixing the hyperdrive or the subspace… Chaz was certain it was sabotage.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">“What happened t’ th’ rest o’ th’ ship’s wounded?”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">“Marissa tried her best, but they didn’t make it. Their injuries were too severe and the med bay on the ship was limited. Her plan had been to stabilize them enough that she could take them back to the Colorado with us when the shuttle came back. Another twenty minutes and we all would have been aboard.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Kat shook her head, and absently ran her thumb over Ben’s hand as if trying to assure herself he was really here. “We knew y’were off lane. Tarin gae us word y’ were done wi’ yer run an’ had intercepted a distress call. We dinnae think much of it but, when time began to slip by, we began to git a bit concerned. We.. We were told somethin’ had ‘appened, but we dinnae know what. Tarin got us yer last known co-ords an’ we headed oot in the Vextis.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Ry sipped his ale, then, as if on cue, took over the conversation. “Did a grid search fer ya, but nuthin was out there. No wreckage… nuthin. It was as if ya had disappeared so we widened the search. We were out there for months lookin’ for some trace of ya.”  He shook his head lightly. “I supposse just remainin’ adrift wasn’t an option?”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Kat shook her head. “Nae, Ry. She woulda found ‘im afore us and finished th’ job.”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">Ben also shook his head. “I did the math. The odds of someone getting close enough to hail with radio were too high. We could have sat out there for a lot longer than ten years. Apparently that wasn’t the right choice, but I would have made it again. Who would have found us? Who told you about the Colorado?”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">She didn't bother to answer his last question. Not yet, at least. “Y’were set up, Ben. Tha’ deralec was a trap.”  Kat frowned before taking a long drink from her bottle. “What was her name agin? Th’ ship?”

<span style="color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:15px;white-space:pre-wrap;line-height:1.15;">“She was registered as the Boc Bás, but we changed it to the Minnow. Why?”

<span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Boc Bás. Cat’s Death.”  Her words were a whisper, her eye locked on the hand that covered Ben’s so she did not see their reactions. “Tis Gaelic.”