Project Destiny

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Pilot Talk

Posted on Sat May 2nd, 2020 @ 3:06am by Tycara & Kyle Stanton

Mission: Home Base - Grey zone
Location: The Black Hole
Timeline: TBD


Tycara was in her usual cloak and Flight gear; she had taken the armor enforment plates off while walking about the Base; her helmet and breathing apparatus functional as it should be, the twin weapons on her thighs always gave her an ease of comfort. She was again watching that rather amusing Human Game on the Holograph; Soccer was it called, and she had a table to herself near the corner so she had the chair kicked back slightly on the wall ; legs crossed at the ankles as is proper and her cloak flung back over her shoulders as she relax, a canister with a cold Beer concoction adapter for her helmet so she could enjoy a drink in a more social manner.

Word had come through the Grape Vine that Beta had their own pilot; that was well suited to her plans as she did not like sharing her 'Mtoto wa kike' with any other hands than the automated controls.

After some flight trials and practice with her fast-draw and accuracy at the range she felt it time to just enjoy this game embraced centuries later by Humans with little change in the enthusiasm. Aliens were always interesting.

Kyle had gotten bored of seeing the same things on the news, so had decided to visit The Black Hole. Grabbing his flight jacket and sunglasses, he ambled into the place and looked around.

Glancing around, he saw that a soccer game was on. He knew a few players in his youth, and had tried it for himself, but had quickly ditched it for electronics and anti-grav harnesses on the flight deck of a starship.

He went up to the barkeep and ordered an extra-dry stout beer.

"New here, ain't you?" the bartender growled as he handed over the drink.

"Kyle Stanton, you can call me Sidewinder," Kyle said in his best Irish brogue.

"You'll be lucky if I call you anything but punk," the man said. Kyle raised an eyebrow and blew a sigh between his lips. He took the drink and headed to a nearby table. As he was walking, he took note of the pilot wearing the helmet and cape. He decided to introduce himself and see who it was.

Sidling up to the table, he stuck out a hand. "Kyle Stanton, new engineer and pilot for Beta Team. You can call me Sidewinder."

The face plate of the enclosed helmet turned to where the new 'Gentleman' could see his own reflection; thus he had her attention, seeming to stare for a couple of seconds she contained a chuckle.

"Mother not like you much, Mr Stanton?" Tycara took the offered handshake and gesture to a seat at the table. "Find relaxation at my Table." She offered and glanced at the game as one side scored. "Despite you occupying me to where I must watch the repeat of the play." One could almost see the grin behind the face plate.

"Well, then I hope I'm as good at holding your attention." He grinned and saluted her with his drink before he sat. "I'm new here, as you know, and I wanted ta git th' lay o' the land before I stepped in some serious sheep-dip."

He looked up as others began filing in, fresh from whatever duties had taken their attention.

"Live up to your contract and you should be fine." Tycara glanced back to the game as the well toned female voice continued. "This is where we are hired to do a job with a team..." She finished watching the goal replayed. "earn the trust of other members and you should do rather well." The face Plate turn to occupy his reflection. "And keeping my attention is not hard. Tell me what brought you here?" She pointed to the table and could see him and still monitor the game should it get exciting out of the corner of her view. "I am a sucker for an interesting story and you look like you have a story?"

The question dredged up memories of his time aboard the station.

"Starfleet born and bred, I was well on my way to a promising career myself in Engineering and as a pilot for SCE when I realized that things weren't as peachy as they seemed at the time. I said my alohas and ditched my commission and headed out. I happened to see the job offer on the civilian net, and I applied here. Beats mercenary work."

The face plate turned to have his full reflection staring back at him.

"We are under contract and paid a bonus per job we complete." The feminize voice laughed. "This is Mercenary work, by definition." She continued chuckling in that almost song like tone. "Or you are being paid a flat fee and that is called getting cheated and being stuck with a job." She shook her helmet in that manner. "I am a Mercenary so you might want to not put down that career choice." She gave the warning with a tone that hinted at a smile. "You would not want to insult a lady would you?"

He regarded her with a thoughtful look. "No, I don't think I want to do that. Though there are some 'ladies' that ain't ladies a'tall. Now,given that I 'ave apparently fallen in with th' lot of ye, I'm gonna change me perception of my lot in life at th' moment." He took a long pull of his drink, then leaned in to whisper confidentially to her.

"Y'know why they call me Sidewinder?"

"I appreciate being upgraded, but I would not brag on that." Tycar's soft giggle. "In some stories of the old west they shot 'Sidewinder' on principal." She glanced his direction. "Of course in historical archives the Sidewinder missile was among the most feared in aerial combat." She mused. "I'll give you the missile; dangerous in combat til proven otherwise, my old Call sign was 'The Morrigan.' She shrugged.

"Aye, I've known a Morrigan or two in my time." He raised an eyebrow. "I saw the sweet little number sittin' in th' 'angar out there," He jerked a thumb out toward the tarmac. "I'm hopin' ta get me hands on some parts so I can make me own. I trust me own 'ands a lot more than some pencil neck that fancies 'imself a wrench jockey. At least if I die, I'll know who to blame." He grinned mischievously.

"The Runabouts sitting on the deck are very sweet to fly; the Alpha one is nimble enough to be a very good bird once off the ground. They also have been made by someone who cares rather than a sub-contractor, the Project had them modified and the inner workings are well made from my checking of the access panels, not a single number two pencil involved from what I saw." Tycara's face plate glanced his way. "If you are referring to Tiger my type 10, it took me a few years to make her and a lot of favors from people that ..." The helmet tilt in thought. "deal in rather 'Hot off the market parts that are far from stock. I have Daystrom parts meant for the next Gen of type 11 shuttles." She almost smiled. "Advantage of the markets a Mercenary has access to." She raised her adapted cup. "If you got the Latinum I can point you right direction."

"Appreciate it. I've got enough for a basic shell setup, but I'll hafta scrounge for the innards." He drained his drink and signaled for another. "I know my way around a Cochrane-style engine and thruster assembly, all the way up to a Sargus-4 warp reactor." He took off his left-hand glove and showed her a small scar on the pad between his thumb and forefinger. "Damn mag constrictor bit me here."

"That beats being shot by a percussion bullet or run through the gut by an old fashion saber." She said casually. "The innards you might need help, smaller hand to feed the Fiber-optic cables; I always hated working the wiring harness; you cannot see where the short is you have to track it like a fish in a stream and hope you catch it." Taking a drink of her beer. "Innards are the cheapest and easier to find because they are the hardest to get set and working." The face plate nod. "Have fun with those Mr. Stanton it is a daunting task ahead of you with a golden goose at the end if you get there."

Stanton nodded, acknowledging the encouragement, then accepted his next drink. "Thanks for th' talk, friend. I'll take your advice to 'eart and much luck and fortune to ye." He rose from the chair and replaced it. Then he winked at her. "Gonna go find me a shell to work on."

"Best of luck." Tycara watched the game as the man left.



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