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Sexy Space Babes - Mechs, Maidens and Macaroons: Chapter Twenty Seven
🕑 Added 2025-10-14 16:24:34 +0000 UTC“You know, I could have sworn you said we were through?” Sabine said without preamble as she clambered out of the truck she’d arrived in.
Though not before she’d surreptitiously glanced around for threats, hand resting on a very obvious pistol at her waist. As a habit borne from her vocation or because of the rather rough nature of the neighborhood they were in, he couldn’t say.
Fortunately, it being the dead of night, the street was pretty much deserted. Sure, one would assume that this being a rough area, the nightlife would leave the place even busier than during the day, but then one needed to consider that this was Krenheim.
Crime didn’t need the cover of ‘darkness’ to operate like it might on more… lawful worlds.
Prostitutes and drug dealers – lone agents who weren’t actively working from brightly lit store fronts, given both were perfectly legal – tended to show up during the early evening, when the streets were most full of potential customers, before disappearing sometime after midnight.
Likewise the many street gangs that had carved up the city into disparate territories tended to be reduced from a dozen on each street corner to just one or two sleepy looking youths keeping ‘night watch’.
For the most part.
The city center tended to be an exception to that rule. As did some of the larger entertainment and business districts.
Fortunately, the rundown warehouse district he and the rest of the ‘team’ were now squatting in was pretty fucking far from any of that.
“We are now,” Mark replied, his gaze roaming over the beat up looking machine his fellow human had arrived in – and her attire.
Gone were the business suits and fancy robes, and in their place stood a getup that wouldn’t have looked even remotely out of place for the area they were in. Hell, given that the French woman’s head, and thus her human nature, was mostly covered by a ratty looking hoody, he wouldn’t have even glanced at her twice if he’d passed her on the street.
Looking at her face, he realized she wasn’t even wearing make-up. Or rather, she likely was, but only in an attempt to make herself look less… interesting.
In short, the spy had chosen to blend in while making her delivery, and he didn’t know that surprised him. Though he was grateful for it given they were trying to keep a low profile.
“Now we’re square,” he said as Saria stepped forwards to start unloading the crate from the back of the truck. “As I said, consider this payment for services rendered.”
Sabine barely spared the woman a glance, before turning her gaze back to Mark with a smile. “Last I checked, you performed said services out of the goodness of your heart. So I was a little surprised to get your message demanding payment for them.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “You showed up, didn’t you?”
And honestly, that had surprised him. After Saria said she’d need a hard to source part, he’d messaged Sabine on a whim. He’d not really expected anything to come from it.
Instead, he and the others had mostly been resigned to waiting for at least a week for Tenir to be able to discretely source the parts from a supplier without giving away their location to Vorn’s mother.
Which was why he’d been so surprised to get a message back saying the French spy was inbound. And here she was. With the parts he’d asked for. Parts that even now Saria was wheeling toward the hangar’s side door, not even sparing Sabine a glance in her haste to get them inside and off the street.
Sabine smiled. “That I did. Fortunately, what you asked for happened to be fairly easy to acquire given my new work friend. Not cheap of course, but funds are pretty much the only thing I have in surplus on this job, to it was easy enough to acquire all the same.”
Mark hummed, feeling uncomfortable. “Well, I’m t-thankful.”
He didn’t want to be. Really. But he was. Sabine really didn’t have to do this for him. She’d already gotten what she’d wanted him out of him.
…Of course, that wasn’t to say she’d not have need of him again in the future. And if the parts she’d just given him really had been relatively simple for her to source…
Well, as much as he didn’t want to, he knew for a fact that the next time she came around asking for a favor, he’d feel obligated to at least consider it instead of reject it out of hand like he would have just a few hours ago.
And she knew it. In fact, she wasn’t even trying to hide her smugness as she watched Saria wheel the crate inside.
“So, is it true you’re eloping with our would-be gladiator champion?” Sabine asked, her head tilting as she turned her attention back to him, looking for all the world like the cat that ate the canary. “Because the rumor mill is just alight with the tale of the Vorn heiress running off with her personal chef.”
He coughed. “W-what!? How are there rumors already? It’s barely been two days.”
“This is Krenhiem rumors travel fast,” Sabine tittered. “Especially when Vorn’s goons start searching just about every villa and hotel on the planet for someone. Oh, on that note there’s people staking out your apartment.”
Ah… Kalia had warned him that would happen. Fortunately, said apartment didn’t really contain anything he couldn’t live without. They’d already had a few changes of clothes and other essentials delivered.
“I could have kidnapped her, you know.” Mark pointed out, if only because it was totally an option. “I’d bet she’s worth a pretty ransom.”
Sabine’s smirk didn’t help. “Perhaps you could, but then Vorn’s people wouldn’t be searching hotels and villas, would they? They’d be searching, well, warehouses like this one.:
She trailed off in thought. “Huh, maybe you really did kidnap her.” Then she laughed. “No, you’re really not the type Mark – no matter who you’ve been hanging around with.”
Mark’s eye twitched, annoyed by the casual snipe at Jelara.
…Though given Sabine’s vocation, it was possible said barb was actually aimed at him rather than her.
“No. I’m not eloping with anyone,” he said tiredly – a running theme when it came to Sabine. “It’s complicated.”
“Hmmm. Given what you had me pilfer for you, I think I’ve got some idea just how complicated,” Sabine as she glanced over at the warehouse behind him.
He deliberately said nothing. Not that it stopped Sabine from taking it as confirmation anyway as she stepped back and grabbed the car door handle.
“Well, it’s been fun Mark but I have real work to get back to.” Though her tone turned serious as she slid back into the drivers seat. “And Mark, I hope you remember that I did this for you the next time I call needing a favor of my own.”
He gritted his teeth, but nodded. “I will.”
Sabine grinned as she drove away, the truck’s taillights fading into the neon haze.
Mark sighed as he gazed after her, the tension finally draining from his shoulders. Walking back inside, he closed hangar’s side door behind, locking the heavy bolt back in place.
And as thick as the smell of the city outside had been, it had nothing on the scent of grease and metal that permiated the spacious interior of the massive structure. One would think he’d have grown inured to it after spending the last two days practically trapped here – but you’d be wrong.
Not that it seemed to bother most of their party. Saria was already eagerly prying open the crate with some kind of crowbar-equivelant, her giggles bubbling up as she revealed the contents.
A big brick with a lot of wires attached. Assumedly important and complicated, but the exact details were lost on him beyond the fact that it was some kind of Ulnus designed fancy neural interface.
“So, your contact came through?” Tenir asked, emerging from the shadows, her silver skin catching the light as much as her glowing tattoos as she eyed the now empty crate. “I wasn’t aware you had contacts in the tech-trade?”
“I don’t. Not really,” Mark said reluctantly, his voice low, his gaze flicking to Saria, who was too engrossed in the part to notice. “She’s an acquaintance from Earth who I thought might have access to what we needed. And as it turned out, she did.”
“Well I ain’t complaining, even if I don’t think you’re giving your acquaintance enough credit,” Saria said, her tone laced with admiration as she glanced at the box, her fingers tapping her data-pad. “Sure, Dual-Way Neural Links aren’t exactly popular, but that just makes them hard to come by rather than cheap. The Ulnus Enclaves are pretty much the only ones who still make them – and they aren’t exactly keen on sharing for obvious reasons. So most of the shit you find on the market is from the First Contact War or cheap Consortium knock-offs. Not this though, I mean fuck, this thing must be fourth generation, post-exodus. And fresh off the production line at that.”
Tenir glanced at him and he shrugged. None of anything she’d just said made any sense to him beyond the box being hard to find and made by Ulnus.
He might have felt like saying as much if Kalia hadn’t appeared from above a moment later, striding out of the foreman’s office located in the rafters of the warehouse.
The cramped prefabbed office turned impromptu bedroom was connected by a rickety gantry to the warehouse’s main floor and the whole thing shook in ways that he was pretty sure everyone but Saria and Jelara found alarming whenever you walked across it.
Not that Kalia seemed to notice on this occasion as she focused on shouting into her omni-pad.
“No, not kidnapped, Mother,” she said, her horns tilting forward, her crimson skin flushed dark with frustration. “Nor am I running away. I’m just taking some time to come to terms with the death of my dreams and independence. Yes, I am unhappy about that. How nice of you to notice. Well, if you’d wanted me to stay at my mansion, perhaps you shouldn’t have made it so clear it was your mansion, not mine. And the less said about those goons you hired, the better.”
Tenir and Mark exchanged glances as the woman strode back and forth overhead, wincing a little at the… shaking of the metal structure.
“No, I didn’t poison them! Nor did the human. No, one of the stasis fields must have failed. I told you to go for a brand other than Time-Stop! No, the human’s an excellent chef! So what if I brought him along? No, I’m not sleeping with him!” she shouted as she paced the narrow gantry, the metal creaking under her steps.
Idly, Mark found himself moving beneath her. Not that he thought she would fall or anything… but if she did, well, she was kind of small. And he didn’t comment on Tenir silently echoing his motions.
…Saria was still focused on the control unit.
“No, I’m not scheming anything. Funds, Mother. Those are my parts. I bought them and I’ll do what I want with them. And if that means selling them to fund this little getaway, so be it. It’s not like I’ve much use for them anymore now that you’ve stolen my mech, is it!” Kalia huffed. “Well it wouldn’t be much of a getaway if you could find me by searching the local vacation sports, would it?”
Finally, the woman stopped moving as she visibly ended the call. For just a moment, Mark was a little worried she about to chuck the ‘phone’ but after a few breaths she resisted the urge.
“So, your mother is looking for us?” Tenir called up.
The noise seemed to startle the heiress and for just a moment Mark was worried she’d fall as she looked down and realized exactly where she was. Again, not a reasonable fair given the presence of safety rails, but, again, the gantry liked to sway. Truth be told, he wasn’t entirely sure the rust flecked railings wouldn’t give way if he ever chose to lean on them.
“As if there was ever a doubt,” Kalia said after a moment as she descended the gantry – and if her movements were perhaps a little wobbly in doing so, neither Mark or Tenir felt the need to comment on it.
“Oh, did you get so worked up about mommy that you forgot you were on the big scary gantry?”
…Of course, Saria apparently had no such compunction, chuckling at Kalia’s affronted gaze as the heiress reached the ground.
“I’ll not dignify that with a response,” she coughed, before looking at the box. “Now, what’s all this then? I thought our funds were frozen?”
Saria shrugged. “They are. Though it seems that’s not as much of an obstacle for one of us given his black market contacts.”
“Saria…” Mark sighed.
“I mean, forget the baby gangbanger Ulnus up there. Our boy here apparently has an in with the big-girls.” Mirth danced in the Pesrin’s tone as she glanced at Mark – though there was perhaps a little genuine wariness as well.
Because there was some truth to the joke he was making – and she most definitely didn’t know all the details. Fortunately, Kalia wasn’t quite as in the dark as she glanced over at him.
“Ah, I assume this came courtesy of that woman?”
Mark nodded tiredly. “That it did.”
“Well, I won’t insult you by saying you shouldn’t have. Only that I will repay you for this… whatever it is...”
Saria snorted. “Dual-Way Neural Interface. Because if we’re going through with this insanity, I’ll be fucked if you go into that arena using analogue.”
“Dual way…” Kalia breathed, before shaking her head and turning back to him. “Well, I hope you didn’t put yourself out on my account, Mark.”
He shook his head, his voice steady. “A little, but respectfully, it wasn’t on your account, ma’am.”
To her credit, Kalia got it immediately, her eyes moving up to the office overhead.
“Ah,” Kalia said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “That’s actually rather sweet. I’m actually little jealous. To be so loved.”
For just a moment, her gaze turned cloudy, and Mark couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking of her own ill-fated romance. It was rather telling, that despite him having heard about the rumors regarding Kalia’s possible ‘elopement’ she’d not heard a word from her fiancé.
And given the rather… tight living situation they were now being forced to deal with, he would have heard. Whether he wanted to or not.
Just like he now knew that Saria farted in her sleep if fed too much dairy. Which apparently constituted any dairy.
He shook his head, trying to banish the memories of the previous evening.
He also took note of the way Tenir was now staring at him. And while he could admit to being… a little blind to certain things, he wasn’t a complete idiot.
Because it seemed the ‘no feelings, pure sex’ nature of his relationship with at least one of his circle of ‘friends’ was about to reach its expiration date.
Soon he’d have to make a choice.
…Though not necessarily between two people, but between committing or not. And while the months had done much to heal the rift caused by his last relationship, he couldn’t help but feel some reticence.
For now though, that could wait. At least until the end of the month. Because come the end of the month, just about everything could go one way or another for all of them.
…Except maybe Saria, he thought as he glanced at where the Pesrin was now moving to install the ‘control box’ as she whistled something poppy.
His thoughts on the subject were interrupted though as Jelara’s head popped out of the hangar’s office, her gelatinous form shimmering in the light as she gazed down at all of them.
“Oi, rich girl? You done with your call yet?” Her voice a sharp gurgle edged with impatience as she ‘stared’ down with her blank features.
Kalia stiffened, but to her credit, she didn’t snap back at the words. “Yes, I’m coming back up now.”
Mark watched her go with a quiet smile, before turning to Saria. “Anything I can help with?”
“Sandwich.” The alien didn’t even turn before speaking, already elbow deep in the mech.
Mark sighed, but still smiled as he moved to acquiesce, though as he did, he sensed someone following after him.
“Ah, given I don’t have anything else to help with, would you mind me helping you?” Tenir asked shyly.
Mark smiled back. “Of course. The more the merrier.”
Sure, things were a bit uncomfortable being stuck here, but at least he was with people he liked.
For the most part…
…He could do without Saria’s night-farts.
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A week later, Saria had long since been banished to the warehouse floor each night. Something that had bothered the Pesrin not at all. Hell, on some level if he was pretty sure she preferred it.
He’d caught her sleeping in a few… peculiar locations. Sprawled out across one of the mech’s giant limbs. In the crate the control unit came in. On top of one of the generators.
So long as she was fed, she seemed happy enough though – vacillating between eating, sleeping and working on the mech with ease.
With that in mind, Mark picked up the pace, hands moving deftly as he chopped vegetables in preparation for the strew he was making. The warehouse’s office had once had an adjacent break-room, prior to Jelara tearing down the thin dividing wall between the two areas.
Some part of her no doubt regretted that decision now. What had once been the equivalent of a spacious one room apartment with an open floor plan was now a chaotic mess of bedding as each of the four of them sought to carve out a space for themselves in their cramped living situation.
With that in mind, Mark wondered if Saria had actually won by being ‘kicked out,’ no matter how drafty the warehouse proper got.
As he watched Tenir rise from her appropriated couch, he couldn’t help but feel his gaze linger on the way the shirt she used for sleepwear rode up to reveal a long swath of silvery stomach as she leaned back to stretch.
…Yes, the close confines had other unfortunate byproducts. Not the least of which being that his libido needed to remain leashed lest he felt the need to subject poor Kalia to the sounds of any activities he got up to with any of the three very available women he was being forced to live in close proximity to.
And while Kalia was hardly some kind of prude… she was still an heiress – and the poor thing had blushed a very dark crimson indeed when Saria had brought up the idea of Mark and her stealing away in one of the bedrooms to ‘blow off steam’.
He doubted she’d complain or anything, but he wasn’t about to subject her to a few hours – or minutes – of her friends and one stranger getting fucked by her personal chef. Sounds echoed in the hangar.
All sounds.
Even the banishment of Saria to the far reaches of the warehouse floor hadn’t kept the noise of her nightly emissions from disturbing his slumber.
…He’d suggested she cut down on her cheese intake, to which she’d frankly told him she’d rather die. Given that Jelara had clearly been considering that as a solution to the Pesrin’s ‘issues’, she’d definitely meant it.
Again, given the fact that his apartment was being watched, the Ulnus couldn’t exactly return to her own apartment come nightfall lest her Kalia’s mother know about her relationship with him – and thus tail her back to the warehouse.
Suffice to say, between that and the fact that three of the girls were putting in fourteen hours a day – tensions were a bit high.
Though hopefully this will help, Mark thought as he stirred the Rhinel stew.
Glancing up, he smiled as Tenir tottered over sleepily, her silver skin catching the light as she delicately sidestepped Kalia’s sleeping form.
“That smells good,” she said, peering into the pot. “But I don’t recognize it.”
“French onion soup,” Mark said proudly.
“Ah.” He didn’t miss the way the Nighkru glanced towards the ‘office’ where Jelara’s ‘bathtub-bed’ sat. “Ah, is this earth cuisine?”
“Of a sort,” he chuckled. “I don’t exactly have access to Kalia’s pantry anymore, so it’s more an approximation of French onion soup with local ingredients, but I know it’ll be good.”
It helped that at its base, onion soup was pretty damn basic. Which was good, because with Kalia, Tenir and Saria’s accounts frozen for ‘investigation’ – a pretty bald faced attempt by her mother’s lawyers to lure them out of hiding – they were living off of what he and Jelara could afford.
Which, while hardly nothing, wasn’t really all that much either.
“If you’re cooking it, I’m sure it will,” Tenir said.
Without any prompting she began pulling out bowls and cutlery, moving to set the table. When she was done, she simply sat there, looking up at him.
“I get the feeling you want to say something?” he asked after a minute or so.
To her credit, she didn’t hesitate. “I was thinking the other three need a break.”
Mark didn’t disagree there. The three had all been working night and day. Jelara and Kalia had been practicing on the former’s ratty looking simulator, while Saria had been working to get the mech upgraded and ready for the upcoming match.
Hell, the tight time constraints were at least one part of why Jelara hadn’t bothered too hard with sneaking back to her apartment each night. It was simply more time efficient to stay at the warehouse.
“A little time off might do them some good in the long run,” he agreed. “Refresh the proverbial batteries.”
“Right!” Tenir said cheerfully. “Yesterday I watched Saria nearly take her own tail off twice with the arc-welder!”
Oof, Mark winced at that image. Sure, medical tech wouldn’t make it too hard for her to grow a new one… but… ugh.
“Yeah, a break sounds good,” he agreed, more firmly this time. “Did you have something in mind?”
Tenir’s lips curved, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she scrambled across the room, ignoring Kalia’s groaned complaints as she was jostled in passing, to reach for a large bag…
…And when the Nighkru scurried back, Mark found himself both surprised and utterly unsurprised as he stared into the contents, before back up to the woman’s hopeful gaze.
He sighed.
“Well, if you can get them to go for it,” he said.
“Go for what?” a tired Kalia grumbled as she slowly rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up. “Ooh, what are you making? It smells great!”
Mark smiled.
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AN: I've actually a got another 1400 words written, but I realized I was delaying the release even further to get the scene finished and added in. So I figure I might as well save it and get a leg-up on getting the next chapter near a Friday release date :P
Comments
Blue Fishcake
More details will be explained in coming chapters :D
Blue Fishcake
Beta readers have it :D
Found&Lost
Quick question as I don't remember anyone else catching this. Weight classes are based on the amount of antigravity cores one has. So if a mech with more than two legs that can support weight is used, couldn't you put more stuff on it than would be expected? The true weight would go up substantially but the armament/armor/etc would increase without changing the class. Also the momentum in a swing... Or charge, especially a charge.
