Sexy Space Babes - Mechs, Maidens and Macaroons: Chapter Twenty Five

Fortunately for Mark’s peace of mind, he wasn’t left to dwell on the realities of his soon to be lack of employment – and what recourses he had for someone choosing to cancel his contract early. Because he was reasonably sure his employer was required to pay out a portion of his remaining contract as a cancellation fee.

Probably…

Legal minutia was not his strong-suit, and the sort of legalese that went into Consortium contract writing made the equivalent verbiage you’d see on Earth – or most of the universe for that matter – look like it was written in crayon by five year olds.

He liked Tenir a lot, but he had little doubt that if she decided to screw him on this, there’d be every chance he’d somehow end up leaving Kalia’s employment owing her money.

Somehow.

Fortunately, even as he was mentally preparing for the fight of his life – or, more likely, to start begging - Saria spoke up.

“Ancestors, did you have to say it like that?” she grunted as she finally looked up from a thoroughly demolished set of pancakes.

Kalia blinked as she tilted her head, confusion knitting her brows. “Like what?”

Before Saria could respond, Tenir cut in. “Like we’re firing the poor guy.”

Kalia blinked slowly. “What?”

“What Kalia meant to say,” Tenir continued, ignoring her confused friend as she turned to the equally confused human. “Is that while your contract is most definitely still in operation, you most likely won’t be cooking for her going forward as her mother is likely going to be exercising her rights as the penultimate owner of your contract to reassign you.”

“I… that’s what I said though?” Kalia said.

Everyone ignored her as Mark turned what Tenir had just said over in his mind. “Kalia doesn’t own my contract?”

Tenir shook her head, her expression softening as she met his gaze. “Yes and no. Kalia hired you, but did so in her capacity as the Vorn heiress – not as an individual. Technically speaking, your contract ultimately belongs to the Vorn company.”

“Which Kalia’s mother holds supreme executive power over,” Saria muttered.

“I- so Kalia’s mother wants me to start cooking for her instead?” Mark said. “Why?”

Kalia sighed, her shoulders slumping as she dabbed her lips with a napkin, a rare hint of embarrassment coloring her crimson skin a dark shade. “I imagine her goal is less about acquiring your services for herself and more about depriving me of them. Personally, I doubt you’ll be cooking for her. In all likelihood, she’ll gift your contract to one of her board members or simply sell it off.”

That was… less than ideal. Certainly better than getting fired, but he’d come to rather enjoy working here. Especially given that he’d kind of been hoping to ask for some help regarding Jelara’s whole situation.

He sincerely doubted whoever he ended up working for next would have quite the same connections to professional mech fighting as Kalia did. Nor would they be as inclined to help him out as Tenir and Saria had been.

You know, unless he slept with his new boss’s support staff too.

Which, he wasn’t ruling out, but it was still less than ideal for a whole host of reasons. Some of which had to do with his pride as a person, but mostly to do with the aforementioned possibility that they wouldn’t be in a position to help out Jelara even if he ‘buttered them up’ first.

…There was also the chance that his gold digging ways would be entirely ineffective. Sure, aliens were a thirsty bunch, but there was every possibility they’d be of the pump and dump variety rather than the vaguely clingy girl failures Tenir and Saria were.

He actually felt a little guilty for thinking that… but the shoe fit…

So caught up was he in his hypothetical future man whoring, he nearly missed it as Saria dropped her fork and muttered under her breath. “That’s what she did with Vrenal…”

“Vrenal’s gone?” Mark asked in surprise.

“Yep,” Saria confirmed, her voice flat, her eyes hard as she stabbed a piece of chicken. “Along with the whole security team. They all got their new orders last night. And I know that them being split up and sent to different postings was a deliberate ‘fuck you’.”

Kalia’s eye twitched, a subtle flicker of irritation, but she didn’t argue, her silence a tacit agreement in Mark’s mind.

Tenir sighed though, hands resting on the table as she leaned back. “You’re exaggerating. There’s no doubt our recent circumstances or a result of Mrs. Vorn’s meddling, but she wouldn’t care about anyone other than Kalia herself to explicitly try to ‘screw them over’. Vrenal being sent out of system while our old security team returned to the company headquarters was likely a simple reality of the needs of the company.”

Kalia looked like she was about to say something, before simply falling silent. Clearly though, she disagreed on the topic of her mother. Which, well, it didn’t say great things about Mark’s own future career prospects.

“Either way it was a cunt move,” Saria grumbled, her voice a low growl, as she shoveled more food into her mouth, tail flicking about in irritation.

 “Why’s all this happening? And why now?” he asked finally – gesturing back to the… silent guard stood in the corner of the room – who he’d honestly forgotten was present until a few seconds ago. “Last night, everything seemed fine?”

Kalia sighed, a deep, weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world. “While I’d be tempted to say my mother has finally grown tired of my reticence to give up my piloting career in favor of my duties as heiress to the company, I sincerely doubt that’s the case.”

She idly picked up a chicken bone. “No, even with her distaste for my current ‘hobby’, she’s enjoyed the prestige I’ve gained too much to cut me down just short of my greatest achievement yet. Not without good reason.”

Saria cut in. “Unfortunately, we gave her one. Because we’re pretty sure she found out that Kalia was close to cutting herself free of the company.”

Kalia eyed her friend and the guard, before sighing and nodding. “Essentially correct. It’s the only thing I can think of that would explain this response.”

Mark felt entirely lost. Oh, he’d known there was a certain amount of antipathy between mother and daughter, but he hadn’t known Kalia had been trying to escape the other woman. Or at least, her duties as the woman’s heir.

Though he supposed if it was a secret plan, there was no reason he should have known... Nor would he have particularly wanted to even if he had. That was the kind of skullduggery he’d literally just fucked over Jelara by getting involved in.

Unfortunately, it seemed whether he’d chosen to get involved or not, he was still being caught up in the fallout of it all exploding.

Though this all begged the question…

“Wait, why does Kalia need some kind of plan to get out from under her mom? Can’t she just… quit? Or leave?”

Sure, Krenheim was sketchy as all hell, but what it lacked in social safety nets, decent infrastructure, police and just about everything else, it generally made up for in protections regarding personal freedoms.

If you were on Krenheim, you were legally allowed to do or be just about anything or anyone you wanted – and heaven help anyone who tried to stop you.

…At least, provided you weren’t an ‘indentured servant’. After all, they’d ‘sold’ their personal freedoms.

And as far as he was aware, that most definitely wasn’t the case for Kalia. More than that, she had a very much in demand skill-set. If she left she’d be able to leverage her talents as…

Ah.

Now he got it.

“Funding,” he murmured. “You don’t own your mechs. She does.”

And mechs were not cheap. Especially at the level Kalia operated at. Hell, even beyond that, he’d seen the kind of struggle involved in trying to build your own mech. Jelara had spent thirty years working multiple jobs just trying to scrap together the most basic machine she could.

He could see why his boss – or was that now ‘former boss’ – might have chosen to engage in a little clandestine planning before cutting herself off from her very wealthy mother’s proverbial teat.

“Yes,” Tenir said, eying him oddly. As if she was surprised. Which was a little offensive. “That’s the issue.”

“Fortunately,” Saria said. “We had a plan to get around that issue. Though the emphasis there was on ‘had’.”

As she finished, she once more gazed meaningfully at the ‘guard’ still facing the back corner. A woman who they clearly didn’t much care about overhearing their gripes. Though he supposed the milk was already quite spilled at this point.

She continued. “I assume you’ve been keeping track of the ongoing tournament in which I’ve been competing?”

Tournament? She had? Mark’s mind blanked. He’d had no idea. And it showed on his face. Because he would swear that Kalia started pouting. Though the expression shifted across her features and was gone before he could confirm that truly what it was.

“I-In one month,” she coughed. “I will be entering the finals. Or rather, I would have been. If I had won the Consortium Plate - and my name would have been elevated from talented up and comer… to household name.”

She glanced up at him, but he could only nod slowly as whatever cultural implications said win would mean – beyond making her ultra-famous rather than regular famous – washed over him.

Sighing, she continued. “At that point, I would have been willing to sign deals with two major sponsors who prior to said win, have been… leery to take over the role of my backers due to the enmity they would have garnered from my mother in doing so.”

“They’re not willing to take that risk now?” Mark asked. “I mean, you’re just one win off, right?”

Saria laughed, a harsh, bitter sound that cut through the tension, her fork clattering as she leaned back. “One fairly important win. And I think you’re underestimating how much people on this rock want to stay off Kalia’s mama’s bad side. So no, until Kalia is the hottest shit of the century, whose name alone sells product, it’s just not worth the risk for most of the other corps.”

Kalia nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line, her voice dropping to a somber tone. “Of course, it’s a moot point now. Now that my mother has outright seized my mechs, and with them, my means of competing in the upcoming match.”

Her hands trembled slightly as she gripped her omni-pad, her frustration and exhaustion palpable.

For his part, Mark’s jaw dropped. “Your mother has taken your mechs!?”

“Yes, this morning,” Tenir confirmed, her voice steady but her hands fidgeting with a stylus.

“Won’t she face some blowback for that?” Mark pressed. “I mean, gladiator fights are a big deal around here. And yours sounded like, well, a big one.”

From the sounds of things, it’d be like a team just… dropping out of the Super Bowl. Or the World Cup. Or the… ok, maybe not the Olympics because people had kind of stopped giving a shit about those… but definitely the first two!

“A big one, he says,” Kalia laughed humorlessly. “And you’re right. My mother will face a considerable amount of backlash for doing this. It’s possible stock in Vorn Corp may even be affected as a result. It seems she’s willing to do it anyway.”

Tenir’s tone was light as she glanced over. “I kept telling you that you needed to save funds and source your own mech.”

“And I told you that it wasn’t an option. Without those upgrades we wouldn’t even have gotten this far.” Saria scowled and answered before Kalia did. “Vorn knew what she was doing when she foisted those mechs on us.”

Tenir was unbowed as she fired back. “And we played right into her hands! Because what good are all those upgrades now!?”

Kalia raised her hand, forestalling an argument between the two that threatened to be of a far fouler ilk than their usual spats. “Neither of you are wrong. It was a poor situation from the start.”

As the trio devolved into muttering and debate, Mark’s own mind drifted. To the obvious. And incredibly risky.

 “…If you won,” he said finally, well aware that there were possibly unfriendly ears listening in. “I assume one of the conditions for accepting a sponsorship would be your own mech? Free and clear? Not leased or borrowed.”

Kalia paused in the middle of her debate. “Yes? Two actually. That was the arrangement.”

Two.

Even better.

“And would this arrangement still be in place? If… you were able to get your hands on another mech?” Mark pressed, his voice steady, his mind racing with an incredibly reckless idea.

“It would,” Kalia replied, her head tilting slightly, a curious glint in her gaze.

To the side though, Mark caught Tenir and Saria’s eyes widening as they realized what he was thinking about. After all, they’d met Jelara not all that long ago.

Both shook their heads vehemently, panic flashing across their faces, their mouths opening to protest, but he continued heedless, his voice firm.

“Ah, well it sounds like you’re in a tough spot. Nothing I can do about it though.”

It was kind of funny, how all the tension fled from the room at his words, as Kalia’s hope was dashed before her eyes and the other two’s fears failed to manifest.

“I, yes, it rather is,” Kalia said as she recovered slightly.

Mark stood up, moving to recover his plates. “Well, if nothing else, I’m thankful for you keeping me informed. It’s been a pleasure to work for you, Mrs. Vorn.”

“I- right,” Kalia said, a sort of deadness coming over her as she realized that her problems seemingly didn’t matter to him. That this was just a job. “And I wish you luck going forward, Mark. I will… put in a good word for you with my mother’s people.”

“My thanks,” Mark said, as he scooped up another plate from a suspicious looking Tenir. “Though, out of curiosity, does all this mean you’re under house arrest? You can still leave the property, right?”

Kalia nodded slowly. “I can. My mother has not quite deprived me of that, at least. Not least of all because Tenir would allow me to throw up a quite embarrassing legal stink.”

“Excellent,” Mark smiled guilelessly. “Well, unfortunate parting aside, we do have a little tradition on Earth when leaving someone’s employ. To that end, would you have any issue with joining me at the park for lunch for a picnic?”

“A ‘pic-nic’?” Kalia said. “I- I’m flattered, Mark, but I don’t know if it will be possible today.” She gestured at the slates around her. “We’re quite busy.”

…Looking for ways to get out of this trap they’d found themselves in.

“Please, I must insist,” he didn’t quite plead. “It’s a very important tradition. I would be most upset if I couldn’t provide you one last meal.”

Kalia wavered – even as both Saria and Tenir stared. “I don’t…”

“It will be quick!” He promised. “A small meal. You’ll be there and back in thirty minutes.”

“Alright,” Kalia admitted. “If it’s important to your culture.”

Mark grinned in triumph, though it stilled as a voice from the back corner called out. “If you plan on leaving the property ma’am, my captain will provide a protective detail for you.”

Kalia scowed as she recalled the existence of the woman. “And I assume I have no say in that?”

The guard’s silence was telling. Kalia rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Mark was tempted to frown though. Not for long though, as an idea occurred to him.

“I’ll just pack some extra for our extra guests,” Mark said – trying not to wince at the disinterested nod Kalia gave, her attention already returning to the slates.

Saria and Tenir were still watching him, but their own earlier alarm seemed to have faded. Ironically though, they too almost looked a little disappointed.

Honestly though, what had they been expecting from him?

He was a chef.

All this high-powered corporate maneuvering was beyond a chef.

…It was all he could do not to cackle as he moved to take away the final plates.

Because he wasn’t just a chef!

As of last night, he could also add super spy to his resume!

Yes, technically he’d only gone on one mission. Yes, technically he’d barely done anything on said mission. Yes, technically the entire thing had been a complete clusterfuck that had only succeeded because of pity. And yes, he’d literally come in here hoping to fix the results of said clusterfuck!

But, at the end of the day, he’d still technically been on a mission of espionage.

Which made him a spy! And a spy could help solve all this.

Before that though…

“I need to use the toilet,” he said with incredible casual suaveness.

Because he didn’t need to use the toilet! Or at least… he didn’t just need to use the toilet. He also needed to contact someone.

The trio, who had started looking down at their devices once more, glanced up at him in confusion.

“I- that’s fine?” Tenir said. “You know where it is.”

Saria frowned. “Did you have to tell us that right before you said you’re planning to do a fancy meal?”

“I’m going to wash my hands!” he said, turning a little red.

…Though as he let the guard who’d guided him in here escort him out, he wondered if it might be better for his plans if he didn’t.

Once more, the urge to cackle was hard to resist.

There was every chance this was going to go up in smoke, but… well, maybe he was finally acclimated to Krenheim?

What was life without a little risk?

…Of course, before any of this, he needed to message Jelara.

Because there was a decent chance she was going to shoot down his genius idea.

-----------------------------------

The sharp rap on the security room door jolted Captain Teryn from her hunched position over the console, the faint hum of surveillance feeds buzzing in her ears.

Her armored boots scraped against the plasteel floor as she rose. She was half tempted to tell one of the other girls present to get it, but she resisted.

Chances are, it’ll be either the brat herself or one of her friends, she thought.

Yelryn was still pissed that she’d apparently been forced to stand in the corner like some kind of idiot because the client’s daughter had thrown a hissy fit.

No, better she answer the door herself.

She couldn’t be quite so easily bullied by the brat they’d been saddled with.

 She pressed the release panel, the door sliding open with a hiss. To her surprise though, rather than the irritatingly short figure of their client’s daughter standing there, it was the rich girl’s exotic chef.

Or pet, depending on your perspective.

Stranger still, the plate in his hands was piled high with strange shelled creatures filled with… something that looked like the contents of her nose.

“I brought you all some food,” the human said, his voice warm and casual – a far cry from his expression this morning when the girls on gate chose to have a little fun.

Maybe he just wasn’t a morning person?

The captain watched as a smile tugged at the chef’s lips as he held the plate forward, the faint scent of something spicy yet savory wafting up, teasing her senses despite her initial revulsion.

Still, Teryn frowned as she surveyed the offering. “We can’t accept it. It’s protocol.”

“Oh, that’s disappointing,” the human replied, his smile faltering into a pout.

And she’d be lying if the sight of it didn’t do things to her. Damned… if she wasn’t on duty.

“The old security team loved my food though? They always accepted when I offered.”

Teryn didn’t audibly scoff, but it was a close thing.

Yeah, well, the old crew weren’t also effectively jailors for their employer’s daughter, she thought, her gaze flicking back into the room where the surveillance feed showed Kalia’s quarters.

Damn shame, though, she thought as she glanced back. Even if the food looked like a mess of alien mucus, the aroma was unexpectedly enticing, a rich, oceanic tang that made her mouth water despite herself.

The fact that it was probably worth more than her monthly paycheck definitely helped too. As did the fact that it was being served by a cute exotic male.

Damn rich kids, she mused. She’s got access to all this and she’s whining that she can’t run off to play mecha pilot? Instead she’s being forced to live a life of luxury running one of the sector’s most powerful companies. Oh, woe is me.

The male’s voice broke her reverie, smooth and persuasive. “Are you sure you can’t accept? After all, while I’m likely to be transferred soon, I’ll be around a little while longer. And I was hoping to strike a similar arrangement with your new security team as I had with the old.”

“Arrangement?” Teryn asked.

Mark nodded, his smile widening, a breathy edge to his words. “Well, you might not know this, but this is a new city for me. It can be… intimidating.” He leaned forward. “Did you know I nearly got abducted my first day here.”

Teryn could believe that, even if she was slightly distracted by the fact that his hand was now resting on her thigh. Sure, it was her armored thigh, so she felt exactly nothing – given it was Consortium plate rather than an Imperial Bodyglove – but her blood heated all the same.

“So, in return for giving me a lift home each time I leave, I’d sometimes do favors for the old crew,” he continued, his tone dropping, his gaze locking with hers. “Little… treats from time to time.”

The pause was deliberate, the implication hanging heavy, and Teryn’s mind raced, as she found herself wondering if she was reading too much into things.

Still… he was a human.

And they had a reputation.

She swallowed slightly, well aware of the shuffling in the room behind her as a trio of curious ears pressed against the door, the faint shuffle of boots betraying her team’s lack of professionalism.

Not that she could blame them…

“Treats?” she asked, her mouth dry, as she forced the word out.

“Did you know that these oysters,” The human – Mark! - said, his voice a sultry whisper, as he leaned closer. “Are good for stamina.”

His hand moved, sliding along the hard material of her thigh. “I imagine they’d help you get through what’s left of your shift - and afterwards, well, they might leave you with a little energy to… escort me back to my apartment.”

His leer was subtle but unmistakable, his eyes roaming her form-fitting armor, and Teryn’s breath hitched. “And I’d be ever so grateful afterward. Maybe even enough to… invite my heroic helpers inside for some… refreshment."

Oh gods, she couldn’t believe it—humans really were as insatiable as the tales claimed!

 Her mind spun, her armor suddenly feeling a little too tight as her pulse quickened. Idly, she heard a small thunk from the room behind her followed by frenzied whispers.

That she ignored in favor of staring down at the human in front of her.

This Ishtek is a total satyr, she thought.

“I… suppose an exception can be made,” she coughed as she slowly accepted the plate. “If this food really does help build stamina.”

“Oh, they’re also considered an aphrodisiac,” the human added casually as he released the plate to her – and she nearly dropped it.

“R-right,” Teryn coughed. “And… sorry, how many escorts were you hoping for on your trip home?

Sure, she wanted to go alone, but she knew her team would spark a riot if she did. She didn’t doubt the contents of this particular conversation were already making the rounds on the team’s subnet.

“Oh, as many as you can spare,” Mark replied casually, his leer returning, his tone playful. “It’s dangerous at night where I live.”

“As many as I-” Teryn echoed, her voice rising, unable to believe her ears, her hands trembling.

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her armor-clad curves, his voice dropping to a teasing titter. “On an unrelated note, did you know that humans are pursuit predators? We don’t so much ambush prey as… exhaust it to death. Which means we have plenty of stamina. Even without oysters. Though I’ve already had a few.”

His eyes roamed her body again, a clear invitation, and she felt a flush creep up her neck as he tittered. “I just couldn’t help myself, you know. A boy’s got appetites.”

She broke.

“…I’ll share them around,” she said immediately. “If nothing else, the team will be happy to have a small break from takeaway.”

“Oh, I’m happy to hear that,” the human chirped, turning with a sashay that accentuated his hips. “I’m glad we could reach an arrangement that leaves both parties… satisfied.”

And then he walked away – leaving her holding a plate of snot-rocks she just knew her team would be fighting over the moment she turned around.

“This job might not be as bad as I thought,” she thought as she sampled one – and found herself pleasantly surprised by the flavor, if not the texture. “It’s got perks.”

“Captain! Please don’t eat them all! And let me play escort! I’ll do anything!” One of her team shouted as the door to the security room swished open, allowing the rest of the team to spill onto the floor – each swearing to do any number of things if it meant they could help escort the human home.

A sentiment that she found was quickly being echoed over the subnet by the rest of her people who’d apparently been informed of the situation and were now begging through her headset.

Glancing at the plate in her hands, Teryn could only hope that the human could live up to his claims.

Because he’d need the stamina.

Either way, the Nighkru couldn’t wait for her shift to be over, as she enjoyed another ‘oyster’.