Kelvin Maddoc always felt more like himself when he had a welder and plasma cutter in his hands. Knowing Mel, he didn’t expect her and the kid to be gone for an extended amount of time. He figured Mel would try to spend the least amount of time planetside on Houston as possible. Leastwise, that’s how he would have behaved if their roles were reversed. Who knew? Maybe the kid would complicate things and they’d both get up to more mischief together than they would have individually?
Kelvin shrugged to himself, and sparked up his welder again, going over Cobra 3 in clean, buttery smooth lines. It didn’t matter to him that it was originally a Xeno ship… because it was Mel’s ship. That was the important part.
“Hey boss!” Ricky, one of the ship technicians working on the Rhino docked next to where Kelvin was working, tried to get the man’s attention.
Kelvin didn’t hear.
“HEY BOSS!” Ricky yelled louder.
Kelvin flicked off the welder.
“What is it, Ricky? Mel’s gonna be back soon, and I don’t want to leave this work unfinished. Ya gonna come over and help me, or what?” Kelvin asked, lifting his visor and looking over his shoulder and down where the technician stood below him.
“Uhhh…that’s just it boss,” Ricky said, looking up with slight concern.
“Well…?”
“You’d honestly better just follow me,” Ricky replied.
Kelvin set down his tools and welding mask in a small outcropping of Mel’s ship, and gingerly picked his way down the ladder and to the hangar bay floor.
“Follow me, boss,” Ricky waved Kelvin to follow him.
They walked out from under the Cobra 3, and began to make their way around the Rhino that Ricky had been working on towards the other end of the hangar. Kelvin heard it before he saw it.
There, on the end of the hangar, was the factory-new Liberty Patriot that he had loaned Mel not even 24 hours earlier. Only it wasn’t factory new anymore. It had been filled with puncture holes all along the aft wings and engine, and its oval faceplate struts that held the cockpit in place were almost completely peeled off and scattered all over the hangar bay floor. Only it wasn’t done being dismantled. Ida and Mel were still there, going at the damned ship like it was an asteroid with precious metals inside that needed to be extracted.
“Take THAT, aaaand THAT, aaaaaaand THAT you f*ckin’ useless piece of trash!” Mel said, her voice punctuating the air each and every time she fired the plasma bolter she was holding through a new part of the ship.
Ida, steady and solid as any of Kelvin’s shiphands, said nothing. She was too focused on her task at hand. Somehow the little girl had found a torque wrench that was half the size that she was, and was removing each and every bolt from the front of the police cruiser with a precision that Kelvin had never seen before in a child.
“What in the name of the Five Houses are you two doing?” he bellowed.
“Oh, hey boss!” Mel turned and flipped up her visor. “Just got back. What’s up?”
“Yer gonna just ‘hey boss’ me like that, as if yer not rippin’ apart the ship that I JUST let you borrow to go see yer mother?” Kelvin was incredulous.
“Oh yeah, ‘bout that. Mom’s dead,” Mel said in a flat tone. “And don’t worry, you’re the best scrapper I know. I’m sure you’ll find somethin’ to do with the rest of this piece of cop garbage.”
Mel then immediately turned back around, pulled down her welding visor, and called out to Ida on the opposite side of the ship.
“Yo, Ida! How’s it goin’ with that cockpit?”
Ida craned her neck around the ship so she could see Mel on the other side, and then gave her a crisp thumbs up.
“Excellent!” Mel said. “Alright, kid, watch yer fingers and toes! I’m gonna get back to blastin’!”
Kelvin threw up his hands in defeat.
“Fine..fine,” he said, half to himself. “Just pick up after yourselves after!” he said more loudly. Neither Mel nor Ida gave any indication that they heard him.
“But…boss…aren’t you going to stop them?” Ricky asked.
“Nah,” Kelvin said. “S’long as they aren’t takin’ out their trauma on Junker ships, I can live with it.”
Kelvin began making his way back towards the Cobra 3 to complete the repairs, but he paused right as he was about to pass Ricky.
“Bit of advice, kid,” he said with a slight grin. “Never get between a woman with a blaster and what she's tryin' to accomplish.”
* * *
Kelvin was in his office when Mel found him again later that evening. Mel wrapped on the door frame with her knuckles to announce her presence.
“Hey, kid. Ya feel better?” Kelvin asked.
Mel shrugged half-heartedly in response.
“You want some more tea?” Kelvin offered. He pointed at the steaming mug that he had on his desk.
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks for offering though,” Mel said.
Kelvin could see that she was much more subdued than she’d been the last several times that he’d seen her. The past few days must have been starting to catch up. If nothing else, the exhaustion she must have been feeling was recognizable on her face.
“Ya wanna talk ab–”
“Nope. Said I’m good,” Mel firmly cut him off.
“Got it,” Kelvin said, knowing better than to press the issue.
“So,” Mel changed the topic. “How's my ship comin’ along?”
“Good, good! Got almost all the panels welded on and I even made sure to install a new shield generator and tinkered with the specs on the ol’ girl to make sure she’s sympatico with good old Junker tech now!” Kelvin winked.
“Looks like I came to the right place then,” Mel ventured a small smile. “Just try not to make her look TOO Junker-ish, ya know what I mean?”
“No promises there. It’s…real obvious she’s a Xeno fighter right now. And if yer gonna be flyin’ ‘round Texas airspace, and ‘SPECIALLY if yer gonna be flyin’ with Junkers - the less she looks like a Xeno vessel, the better.”
“Fine, fine,” Mel sighed. “Your probably right… as USUAL.”
“Good,” Kelvin said. “Now, we’d better change the name and ID on your ship too. Ya got any ideas for names ya wanted to–”
Blaring alarm horns interrupted Kelvin as his office was suddenly bathed in crimson warning lights.
“All hands, battle stations. Battle stations. All hands to battle stations. This is not a drill,” the voice of Stephanie, the security chief of Beaumont boomed over the station’s comm system.
“Good gods, what the f*ck is it now?” Kelvin said aloud.
* * *
Mel stood on the bridge of Beaumont Base, looking up in horror at the face that was projected onto the primary observation and comms screen.
“What’s up, little bird? Ya miss me?” Gunner sneered through the screen. “What? Ya think you were going to pull a stunt like that and get away scott free? Nah nah… yer MINE!”
“You have absolutely no authority or power here, you piece of space trash!” Kelvin roared into the comms mic, projecting a level of confidence that he did not truly feel. “What on earth are you planning to accomplish here? Mellony Travers is under the protection of the Junkers and Beaumont Base.”
“Like that even f*cking matters? What, you think you scare me, old man?” Gunner retorted. “Fail to give her over to me, and I do all of the Texas system a favor and wipe Beaumont from the face of Sirius!”
“Like f*ckin’ hell!” Kelvin said.
“Prep my ship,” said Mel softly.
Kelvin took his finger off the comms button, and looked at her in disbelief.
“What? No…no no. Yer not going anywhere,” he said, gently but firmly.
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