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Jump Rider
Chapter V.11: Contract Partners

Chapter V.11: Contract Partners

The awakening was hazy, it took a few moments to recognise the pounding sound as her alarm. She was still highly aroused, sweaty and tired. The suppressant had worn off and the air was saturated with her sweat and the musky scent of an aroused male.

Nothing had happened during the night, Marik had just snuggled up next to her, stroking her as he slept, his face buried in the fur at the side of her neck. His tickling breath didn't let her sleep, aroused and happy, yet so tired. Well, and his hand had wandered around and ruffled a lot of fur. He had been incredibly naive. She had been more than ready but couldn't bring herself to take the initiative.

After lying awake for half the night, she inhaled a dose of suppressant and lay behind him, still unsure what to do with her hands. Damn, it was so far from everything she had learned about human males that she felt like an insecure ten-year-old. And a very tired one at that.

The alarm was still drilling into her head. She rose slowly from the mattress, silenced it, inhaled another dose of suppressant and headed for the shower. She would need to bring some fur shampoo with her the next time she visited Fallerian; her fur was even more oily from the extra heat of cuddling in the Fallerian jungle climate, and Marik's scent did not wash out.

She sighed and sat naked on the mattress while her fur dried. Marik was cute the way he slept there. But by Hopkins, why didn't he go further?

The landlady knocked on her door. Time to wake him up. She quickly put on the gym uniform and then leaned over to Marik's ear. "Come on, wake up," she whispered into his ear. And then she licked it. It tasted horrible, but it woke him up quickly.

"Good morning. I have already showered. I think breakfast is ready."

"Morning," he mumbled, looking at his pad. "Oh, so late already." He yawned and stretched, a pathetic performance.

Watching his awakening in slow motion made her yawn again. Huh, showing her teeth made him sit up quickly. She grinned, lips closed. "Well, another day. Let's see the new coil."

"Oh yes." He almost jumped off the mattress and stood up. "Let's go."

* * *

First thing, they put the two halves of the coil around the engine’s injector nozzle to be crystal-bonded, which would take all morning. Next, she replaced the last two coolant pump bearings. Jedro was eager to see the pumps and help. The beetle was enthusiastic about any technology, no matter how simple, broken, or old. Marik continued to work on the panelling of the bow section of the cockpit. She joined him later, and by early afternoon the cockpit walls were elegantly curved without gaps, looking as aerodynamic on the inside as the smooth hull from the outside. Both just to please the eye, as neither would ever feel even a breeze.

They went for a quick lunch at a nearby fast-food counter, long fried larvae with a thick, hot white sauce. She had to sit down as even the ceiling was low enough to bump her head. They ate quickly, the engine was ready to be installed, the thing everyone looked forward to.

While Jedro and Marik could help with the mechanical work in the vacuum, once installed and leak-tested, she could fill the ship with atmosphere again. It was so much easier to make the reconnection to the ship's controls and power without a thinsuit and gloves. And she could set the temperature to something more suited to a person with fur. Connecting mismatched hardware had been her main job at the shipyard. Now even on her very own ship. She grinned and even hummed a tune. Marik just stood aside, only occasionally pressing a button or reading a status message for her while she was deep inside a duct. With her solid knowledge from rewiring half the cockpit, she was confident even without AI guidance, just with the hints from the raw protocol dumps.

"The engine status just switched from red to blue and the screen looks totally different," Marik shouted.

She crawled out and looked at the screen. Indeed, the engine was now in warm standby together with her two companions. "We did it!" She nudged Marik hard enough to knock him against the wall. Dazed, he looked at her and then grinned too. The White Ocelot was fully restored, a real ship now, from the engines to the interior. Even Penny would have to agree. Where would she be now? She soon might know.

"Now get out so I can start the cooling."

She looked after Marik as he climbed through the UDA back into the pressurised part of the workshop. She was so grateful. He did not look like much, small and short, and he was so insecure when talking to her. Especially her, he had been less hesitant with Fanny. And he showed no inhibition when talking to the Fallerians. Or when it came to ships, an area where he knew so much more than her.

Back to the task at hand: cool down the superconductors. She would like to do a very low power test firing but the temperature interlock prevented this. A movement jerked her back to reality. She held on to the acceleration couch while Jedro rotated the holding clamp so she could extend the main radiator and begin the cooling. When the rotation was complete, she hastily slipped into the thinsuit, because the UDA had been disconnected since it did not extend to that angle. She would have to spacewalk back to the workshop.

Soon all the checks were completed that could be done with warm superconductors and the new field settings had been entered. The radiator unfolded for once even in its warm state, and the cooling system ran on station power. Now they had just to wait until all systems were below their critical temperatures. That would take close to midnight, time to call it a day.

The stars seemed closer when she looked out of the hatch while climbing back to the workshop.

Before they left the shop, Jedro asked for payment for the engine. It had come to a total of 627. She did not even try to haggle. Tt was indeed a pleasure doing business with them.

After that, she was even more thankful for Marik. She wanted to invite him to the finest meal they could get. But the human wanted to dine at her place. When she shook her head, he explained that he had asked her landlady to prepare a very special meal for tonight. She felt beaten again. She could not even treat him. It was all so wrong, he took care of everything, she just paid. It should be the other way round, the cat helping her mate. Still, male was male, and of course, she would respect Marik's wish. But she was not too happy about it.

The dinner, however, turned out to be another very rare Fallerian treat, a very special dish. A kind of pie made of crushed transparent wings. The pie was semi-transparent even after baking, layers upon layers of thin, crispy transparent sheets around a caramelized, frothy red mousse core made from tiny pink beaten eggs. The beaten earthenware of the landlady was in stark contrast.

"She's probably been preparing for this for half a day," Marik whispered to her when the landlady was again in the kitchen.

This was indeed food worthy of a clanmother. Although she was sure that no clanmother had ever eaten it. Which only added to her inner confusion, no cat should be treated like this by a male. To distract herself, she thanked several times in Fallerian the landlady, still not finding the words to express how honoured and grateful she was, silently cursing the lack of words.

It was obvious that the landlady had grown very fond of Marik. Apart from his human appearance, Marik behaved like a Fallerian model child. The landlady even said so more than once. With his small size, he did have a childlike quality even to her, and yes, cute too, in a special way.

She would enjoy this more if she didn't owe him so much. She would never have found Jedro's workshop and never tasted such good food. She was determined to repay him with everything he asked for, she would fly him deep into the human region. Whatever.

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Today's tea was special too. It had a different aftersmell, not like alcohol, but like some kind of cleaning liquid. It certainly affected the landlady. She spoke a lot more, but with a slur that made her almost incomprehensible. She too felt a little lightheaded.

"Rerra," the landlady began. Her ear jerked up, she had never been called by her name before by the landlady. "To the new contract partners," the beetle toasted and almost tipped over.

Now Marik rose as well and turned to her. "Rerra," he began. And this time, he looked into her eyes. He had big brown eyes with huge black pupils. "Rerra of Petra, sorry, I would like to make a formal contract. Let us be contract partners for 64 days, Fallerian time. Share the profits, fly together and everything."

She was suddenly very sober. "64 days? From now on? I promised to drop you off in any nearby system, you deserve even more. But I must return to Hopkin. My clan, I worry about them. There may still be fighting, perhaps even the station’s life support is failing. And there are so many kittens, I..." She swallowed.

"Then let us go there first. No matter. If you think 64 is too long, how about 32 days?"

"I'm a small cat. You saw Fanny? She is of average size. No, the station is too dangerous, I can't endanger a, a." She took a deep breath. "I'll come back, I promise. Back as far as I can."

"Please, I want to go now. With you. Please, even 16 days would be fine." His big puppy eyes nearly liquefied her brain.

"It's not the duration," she managed to say, almost strangled by her instincts. How could she even think to disagree with a male?

He took her hand. "Please, Rerra of Petra, take me with you as a contract partner for as long as you like."

Her fur rose, this was too much. She had no right to refuse him, he was male and, worse, she was in his debt. "Yes," she said, not that she could say anything else.

"Thank you!" And then he sat down on her lap and hugged her. The landlady made a sound like chirping and Marik stood up again, his face flushed. He exchanged very intricate hand patterns with the landlady and then took out his pad. "Here, a standard partner contract, 16 days, extendable. Please confirm."

Still completely overwhelmed, she took out her pad, scanned it and sent the confirmation back. The landlady stood up and walked them unsteadily to her room. Even in her intoxicated and pheromon saturated state, she wondered what had just happened. It was as if she had agreed to start a new tribe with him.

* * *

In her room, they finally went all the way. He was clueless, but an eager learner. Having been introduced to the full range of adult fun besides playing with her tail, he was eager to repeat the act as soon as he could. And again in the morning. No complaints from her.

They showered, she packed the few things Fanny had bought for her and then, after another great breakfast, they said goodbye to the landlady. She swore the old beetle wore a smug expression on her antennae.

But Marik did not go straight to the workshop. Instead, he went the other way. She had not inhaled a suppressant; she should not have needed one after that night. And as with Lead, her mind was unclouded. But with each step that he walked down the corridor and his scent fainted, he looked smaller and more vulnerable. She could not even look the other way, started to tremble and a low growl escaped her throat. Her fur rose until she submitted to the overwhelming urge to go with him and protect the human male. She ran after him and relaxed only when his scent filled her nostrils. She smiled as if it was nothing.

He looked surprised but let her take his hand. Together they walked a short distance and then entered a small shop.

"It is good that you came. We should prepare for the station."

She looked around. "Weapons?" Even in this world, they were easy to recognise: a larger handle at the back and one or two elongated protrusions at the front to give your enemies a bad day. She lifted her foot and extended her large claws. "That's not enough?"

"There are murderers on the station. You said so."

"Yes," she conceded and then fell silent. Still completely under his spell. While he talked to the clerk, she inhaled two doses of suppressant. But it would take time for them to work. Until then, she stood not more than a few paces away, her ears pivoted in all directions and her eyes scanning the room, on high alert for any dangerous enemies.

Somehow, Marik did not notice. He took one of the weapons from a shelf. "Look, these are shock pistols. Space station safe and non-lethal with adaptive charges, 127 rounds." He read it from the label on the shelf. "You said it could be dangerous. Please, I want you to live through this."

"Of course," she sighed. "Do they have any smaller ones?"

Marik exchanged a few words and the owner produced a much smaller one, so small that she could hide it in her hand. It was not made of metal, it was light and had a rough surface like stone. And it was the first time she had ever held a weapon in her hand. She felt dirty somehow, not a good feeling. She sighed again. "I'm scared."

"Yes, good, you should be. Come on, let's try it."

She moved like a puppet on a string, afraid of the weapon she held, even though her lower brain clearly demanded to protect him.

Marik took the pistol and pushed the trigger at the bottom of the handle. There was a puffing sound, not unlike a thruster firing as heard inside the ship, and an area on the centipede-shaped target lit up in yellow.

She held the small weapon between two fingers and pressed the trigger with her thumb. A blue area above the target lit up. She shuddered.

Marik fired again, this time hitting the centre of the target. Marik certainly showed the cold practicality of the Fallerians which she had seen everywhere. Her hands shook too much to try again.

Marik bought two of these guns, a small storage box for each, and four spare magazines. 252 rounds seemed excessive. She had no intention of putting that many victims to sleep. That would be a considerable percentage of the station. No, she had no intention of using these weapons at all.

As she had expected, the beetle sold them without any registration or proof; he/she did not even care that she was paying for the weapons. He just reminded her that the weapons wouldn't work on this station.

Outside, she inhaled deeply. Marik still smelled tiny and vulnerable but slowly the suppressants started to work. She was able to stand still while Marik walked down the corridor to his place. She was frozen for a few more moments until all that lingered from him was the scent of where he had held her hand. She shook her head, her mind was clearing while she walked towards the workshop. The further she walked the more spring got into her steps: The White Ocelot's trial run!

* * *

Jedro was sitting next to the entrance and threw into a box whatever the beetle had tinkered with. She was as excited as her; but of course, business first. No complaints, the two beetles had more than earned her money, and she paid them for filling all the tanks and the rent until today. She would have even added a tip. But Jedro refused any bonus payment until the test was successful.

The beetles looked as impatient as she was. Under the waving antenna and unmoving eyes, she quickly put on her thinsuit and spacewalked into the cockpit. The superconductors were cold and she raced through the last checks and the core preparation sequence as fast as she could, while priming the life support. Finally, the fusion core was ready and came up on the first try. Nice and reliable, a good core. It better had to be, it was the only one on her ship.

"Jedro, I am ready to go," she radioed, at least her Fallerian seemed good enough for Jedro. "For flight control, what is the bay number?"

"You have pre-clearance. Part of the service. Ask for slot JC 7."

Flight control understood her on the second try and sent her the flight plan, a wide loop out and back to the workshop. She confirmed it, thanked Jedro and flight control, and then slowly drifted out of the open hangar. With full clearance, she turned the White Ocelot into the tangential off-station lane. Finally, the life-support had reached the proper pressure and temperature. Cold air hit her when she removed her helmet, and she wished for thicker fur for her finders on the cold screen and switches. But the better feedback for the control sticks was worth the cold fingers. Also, after all the Fallerian humid heat, the dry cold air from tanks was refreshing and with them came the familiar odour of space.

After 0300 she was far enough to fire the main engines. For the first time, she prepared 1 and 3. She checked the new field settings. This meant going through many normally hidden parameter screens. But everything looked as it should.

And then she set minimum thrust only on 1. The repaired engine powered up, all circuits green, coil current holding, and the field configuration as set. Which meant no broken power supplies, and the coil had survived the cooling. Great. She started xenon injection, still in full manual mode and some thrust built up.

She switched to assisted mode. The thrust was steady as it should be at this low level. She added number 3 on the other side to fly straight and slowly ramped them both up. Number 1 had even more thrust, so she should consider adjusting the field settings on number 3. For now, she set the power trim ratio between them to 92%.

With two engines, acceleration was smoother than ever. She went higher and higher and at 48%, some vibrations started. At 69%, just over 3.6 g, engine number 1 turned orange and she shut them both down. 'Field out of spec', well, the different superconducting material of the new coil had a higher critical temperature and it would need better cooling to reach stronger fields for even more thrust. Nothing could be done about that. But for all practical purposes it was powerful enough, with all three engines running she could easily exceed 6 g with her mass-to-thrust ratio. That was over her limit for sure.

Anyway, it was time for the turnaround manoeuvre. On the return leg, she went up to 2.5 g and kept it without problems until she shut them down when she reached the outer docking zone again. Three working engines, she smiled to herself. The White Ocelot was ready for action.