originally posted in:The New Dojo
“[b]Big, but I don’t want it too big. The old ship’s fusion thrusters were shitty on the yaw, and slow to pitch as well. I’d take somethin’ a little smaller, with better rear thrusters, and a bigger cargo bay to accommodate the fighter hangar.[/b]”
Drake looked down at his metal palm, which projected a pale green hologram of ship schematics beneath the table. He idly scrolled through lists, barely paying attention to the others at the table.
Others had flown the Arrowhead before, in times of emergency, but Drake had a unique connection to his craft. He’d never explicitly explained it, but there was an unspoken symbiosis between him and the ship, and on occasion he was seen connected to it through his neural interface, even when its systems were offline. This ship mattered more to him than, likely, the rest of the crew did, not to mention his own meager life.
English
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"And my own quarters." Alpha interjected "I'm the only girl here, soooo"
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"[b]Yeah, and we'll make a special bunk for goat-princess too. Right. Sawyer, I assume that you're sharing a bunk with Garin then? We'll have four or five quarters then: one for me, one for Alpha, one for the two of you, and another one for any non-hooker guests. Sound good?[/b]" Drake said tersely, eyeing the rest of the room icily.
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"Yeah. After this....I want to speak with you privately." Alpha said.
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"[b]Let's get it over with now then.[/b]" Drake got up, and gestured with his head towards a more private corner of the room, at the same time gesturing with his hand for conversation to go on without them. He walked over, and waited for her to say what she needed to tell him.
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She hugged him then, and sat on the bench "I'm sorry for what I said. But....I'm just not sure if I can do this anymore. I can't even fight outside of sniping and piloting my ship." She said desperately "If I join I can't even fight."
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"[b]Who said anything about only fighting? You seem to be forgetting the lying, scheming, swindling, blackmail, and intimidation aspect.[/b]" Drake said as comfortingly as he could muster, returning the hug with his prosthetic arm only. "[b]You're more than just a hired gun, or a pilot Alpha. You're the spirit of the crew, the glue that kept us all together. If you don't wanna fight, then I'd never make you.[/b]"
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"....you mean that, Drake?" She looked up, her eye a little misty. "I.....never thought you guys felt that way..."
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"[b]Well, Sawyer and I aren't exactly the [i]feeling[/i] type... most of the time. But yeah Alpha, of course I mean it.[/b]" Drake looked at her reassuringly, his face showing the faintest vestiges of wear since she'd last examined him well. "[b]So, whaddya say? You still in?[/b]"
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"....Yeah. Somebody has to patch your asses up." She said with a laugh
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Sawyer stood a few feet removed from the two, grinning devilishly at the two's embrace and the flow of emotions between them, Drake's rare sympathy and Alpha's misty-eyed reassurance. He loved to see the two reunited, how Alpha began to accept him and how, as a small miracle, Drake opened himself to her. It did not make him cry, as the ducts that inhibited the tears had long withered and become archaic remnants of his childhood. But something within his chest surged, something that pressed upon his chest and made his skin begin to itch and his breast pocket begin to surge with energy. "I'm here too," Sawyer said meekly, switching his gaze between him, his hands arching into his breast pocket as a bag of pills and edibles rattled. He opened it easily with his callused forefinger and popped a pink tablet into his mouth, the vise of his jaw pulverizing it to dust.