Deus Ex Mechanic Read online

  Deus Ex Mechanic

  Ryann Fletcher

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  All characters are fictional. Any resemblance to persons alive or dead is coincidental.

  Deus Es Mechanic, The Cricket Chronicles, and all original characters, events, and settings © 2020 Ryann Fletcher (identified as the author of this work). All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by electronic or mechanical means without permission from the author, with the exception of book reviewers.

  Cover designed by Sarah Holmes

  https://anebulouspurpose.tumblr.com

  ––––––––

  Copyright © 2020

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-1-9163750-0-0

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Deus Ex Mechanic (The Cricket Chronicles, #1)

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  To my fearless pirate captain, queen of my heart. This book wouldn’t exist without you.

  CHAPTER ONE

  "FUCK," ALICE SAID UNDER her breath, as a small gear rolled under the boiler she was fixing for the third time this month.That gear was tiny, but mighty: without it, there's no way the boiler would function properly. If only the Coalition would update their merchant ships as often as their military ships, she wouldn't have to spend as much time crawling around on the floor of the ship, trying to dig out tiny pieces that came loose during a turbulent flight. She mused on the laughable impossibility of the Coalition updating a merchant ship, especially when she was able to make it run smooth. If they updated these systems, she'd be out of a job. She bent down with her standard issue, hand crank kinetic flashlight in her hand. She squinted and peered under the boiler.

  "I'm too tall for this shit," she muttered, blowing the cobwebs and dust away.

  Her radio crackled to life as she located the gear and hauled herself upright. "Bridge to boiler, how are we looking down there?"

  Alice crossed the room, wiping her hands on her gray Coalition standard coveralls. These were her oldest, most worn out pair, with threadbare patches on the elbows and knees, and a brass pocket zipper that wouldn't stay zipped.

  With the small radio in her hand, she responded, "Boiler to bridge, almost set down here. The damn valve came loose again, we should have enough steam to start the engines in about twenty minutes."

  The radio fell silent, and Alice shook her head. She'd been flying with Captain Augustus Allen for decades now, ever since their first ship assignment long ago. He was a man of few words, but loyal to Alice; he always requested her to be his mechanic when he changed ships, and loyalty seemed to be in short supply lately.

  Alice sat down on a nearby overturned apple crate and sighed, checking her watch. "The sooner we get out of this system, the better," she said, this time to herself. This area was thick with rebels and marauders, and this was the largest trade ship that traveled the nearby systems. Though this ship was staffed with Coalition military, most of them were recruits, and still green. She didn't want to think would happen if they were faced with a full on attack; then again, most rebels wouldn't dare attack a ship of this size out in the open.

  "You talking to yourself again, gorgeous?" Barnaby, Alice's oldest friend, confidently strode into the room, deftly stepping around the greasy puddles that had gathered near the boilers.

  Alice turned and smiled, rolling her eyes. "As if you could talk, old man."

  "Old man!" Barnaby exclaimed incredulously, chuckling, "How dare you? We were born in the same year!"

  "Maybe, but I don't look it," Alice said, "All those dodgy trade deals have taken their toll on your face."

  "Yes, I suppose hiding in boiler rooms and cargo holds would indeed shield one's face from any hint of sunlight," Barnaby countered, and after a beat added, "Or fun." He leaned against a large anti-gravity unit and tilted his head towards Alice. "You'd be hot property if you'd wear something other than those old coveralls and goggles, you know."

  Alice pushed her long silver braids over her shoulders and looked at Barnaby, laughing, "As if you have any clue what would or wouldn't make me hot property."

  Barnaby stood up straight and puffed out his chest with his hands on his hips. "I may prefer my lovers more masculine, my dear Alice, but I still have eyes."

  She snorted with a laugh and stood up, towering over Barnaby. She pushed up her goggles to rest on her pale, grease smeared forehead and looked towards the main boiler. "These things always break at the least opportune moment. I just fixed this one last week." She weakly kicked at the boiler with a scuffed tan boot.

  Barnaby poked through a nearby box of steam droids, all of them lifeless without their solar powered battery cores. "How long until we're ready to go? With all this equipment and provisions on board, we're sitting ducks for the local wildlife." He picked up one of the droids and held it up to the dim light. "And by wildlife, I mean pirates," he added. "What are these doing down here, anyway? Did one of the new recruits forget where the cargo hold is?"

  "It's currently being occupied by crates of land mines," she replied. "We haven't been back to the base on Gamma 3 to drop them off yet, so we're flying through space with a wondrous eclectic assortment of fruits, vegetables, and mass casualty weapons." She kicked her boot against the box of droids, and one weakly lit up, using the last vestiges of its stored solar power. "I don't care where they put it, so long as they don't start storing this crap in my bunk."

  "Bridge to boiler," the radio called again, "Are we clear to power up the main thruster? Over."

  Alice raised the radio to her chin and replied, "Just a few more moments, Captain."

  Once again the radio fell silent, and Barnaby added into the silence, "He's always been such a personable fellow, hasn't he?"

  Alice crossed to the boiler to inspect the pressure gauge. "He's a good man, Barnaby. Better than you." She turned and smirked at her friend, who was still looking through the box of small robots.

  "You can't be a good man and be a good merchant, Al." Barnaby's suit was a testament to his success: it was well tailored using the finest fabrics and buttery leather. Next to Alice's shabby coveralls, he looked like the picture of success. "I do what I must. Because I can."

  Alice tapped the pressure gauge and furrowed her brow. "You do what you do because you like money," she replied. She looked sideways at Barnaby, "And you like the kind of men that tend to follow that money. What was the last one's name again, Barns? Chad, was it?"

  "And what kind of women tend to follow engine grease, then?" he retorted, gesturing at the oily patch on her left elbow.

  Alice ignored his question, turning her attention to the m
isbehaving boiler instead. "Looks like the pressure gauge is faulty. Probably won't last another flight, but I think I have a replacement down here."

  Barnaby looked around at the mountains of stacked boxes, bemused. "And how would you even know where to start looking?"

  Alice shot him a look. "I have a very meticulous filing system, thank you very much." She turned to push a pile of metal instruments out of the way. "Just because you're not intelligent enough to grok it, doesn't mean it doesn't exist." She bent and reached her arm behind a mound of copper wiring. "Aha!" She shouted triumphantly, "I knew I had one!" Barnaby watched her as she crossed the room to her workbench, poking at the gadget with tiny screwdrivers. "Anyway, I'm far too busy keeping this hunk of junk ship together to think about love," she said defiantly.

  "Hunk of junk?" Barnaby said incredulously. "This is the fastest merchant ship in the entire Coalition fleet."

  Alice turned to him and grinned, "Yes, and I'm the only reason why it's the fastest. Why do you think this ship outperforms newer models by twenty percent?"

  Barnaby held a droid aloft, examining the tiny robot. "Your modesty is astounding, Alice."

  "What can I say," Alice smirked, "I learned from the best." She rummaged through a pile of sprockets and wrenches, and pulled out a tiny pair of pliers with a red rubber handle, perfect for handling electrical equipment.

  "Well you'd better hope that false humility isn't misplaced," Barnaby grumbled. "Just last week a merchant ship was attacked by pirates, not too far from here. They say there were no survivors."

  Alice let out a laugh. "Give me a break, Barnaby, you sound ridiculous," she chuckled, adding, "No survivors. Did they have to walk the plank too?" She bent over the pressure gauge in front of her, tapping on the glass and poking it with the pliers. "Anyway, this is a Coalition military staffed vessel. No rebels, or pirates, or bogeymen would be stupid enough to attack it. Not without a death wish, anyway."

  She straightened her back and yawned, stretching her arms out over her head.

  "BRIDGE TO BOILER: PREPARE FOR IMPACT!" the radio suddenly screeched.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ALICE WAS THROWN INTO her workbench, tiny gears, copper wiring, and the tiny pliers flying in every direction.

  Barnaby fell backwards into the pile of boxes, tiny droids sailing through the air and smashing onto the floor, disintegrating into millions of tiny pieces. The shelving against the wall started to tip over, boxes of tools sliding off of the shelves and crashing onto the ship floor. Crates that were stacked to the ceiling were cascading down in slow motion, their contents spilling out and collecting into small mountains of disarray. Alice braced against the workbench, scanning the wreckage for Barnaby. She saw him pinned under a crate of heavy bronze tubing, struggling to push the crate off of his left leg.

  "Argh, what the bloody hell was that?" Barnaby grunted, using his other leg as leverage to free himself. He stood up and dusted himself off, examining his suit for any damage.

  "Don't worry Barns, you look as dapper as ever." Alice looked around, surveying the damage. She dug under a pile of aluminum scrap metal and pulled out the radio. Half the electrics were missing, and it snapped and crackled with a garbled message from the captain.

  "Brid——ler. Pi-——tacked. Prep-—to be—." The radio gave one last pop and the display faded to nothing, leaving a useless, blank screen.

  "Goddammit," Alice muttered. "Barns, I have to head to the bridge to see what's going on. Try not to break anything," she smirked.

  "Hands up and stay where you are!" a voice yelled.

  Alice spun around and was faced with a small group, led by a woman who was even shorter than Barnaby. She wore a tan leather waistcoat layered on top of a green shirt with matching trousers, tucked into tall black lace up boots. Her tight curls were tied up, her dark brown skin shining with sweat. A long scar crossed her face from her left eye, across her nose, ending just below the right side of her chin. It gave her a malevolent, threatening look. Alice's breath caught in her chest – was this a pirate raid?

  "Who the hell are you?" Alice demanded, her hands in the air. She was tall, a woman to be reckoned with, but she was not a fighter, especially not to protect a bunch of now-broken equipment.

  The woman arched an eyebrow and looked Alice up and down. "You mean you've not heard of me? I'm told that I'm infamous."

  "I assure you, I don't have the slightest clue who you are, other than someone who is holding me at gunpoint." Alice shifted in place, trying not to stare.

  "Well I know who you are, Alice. I'm told you're the best mechanic in the whole of the Coalition. My name is Captain Violet. I'm here to confiscate the goods you carry on this ship."

  "Well you're welcome to steal whatever you like, I won't stop you," Alice responded confidently. "Most of it is broken anyway."

  Violet stepped forward to inspect an overturned crate and sighed. "Yes, it would seem we damaged some of the electrical equipment with our little ship. I didn't anticipate that there would be so many crates in the boiler room, that's why we attacked on this side." She straightened and grinned at Alice with a twinkle in her deep brown eyes. "Still, I'll get what I came for. Your captain and the rest of the crew are otherwise engaged, probably still hiding in cupboards from the reprogrammed solar droids I set loose on the bridge."

  Alice looked at Violet suspiciously. "Clever to reprogram the droids," she said, "but how did you do it? There are safety protocols that prevent tampering."

  "Well I'm not about to give away my best kept secret, am I?" Violet smirked.

  Alice frowned. "Well what is it you're here for?"

  Violet stepped closer and looked up at Alice. "I'm here for all of it, Mechanic. We're taking everything, from the produce, to the metal scrap and computer components. Stand aside so my crew can expedite this process."

  Alice shrugged and stepped to the side as she called to Barnaby, "Barns, you alright? Just let them take what they want. Neither of us are exactly warriors, eh?"

  Her oldest friend shot an angry look at the pirates before sitting on an overturned crate in the corner. "The Coalition will never let you get away with this, you know," he muttered. "You're fools if you think you can ransack the largest trading ship in the near systems."

  From across the room, one of the other pirates yelled, "Some more platinum scrap over here, Captain!"

  Violet turned to face her second in command, a petite, sinewy woman half her age dressed entirely in black. "Thank you Kady, see that it makes it onto the ship. I'm sure that will prove useful in your recent experiments." She faced Alice again and raised an eyebrow, looking her up and down. Alice knew that her height and burn scarred arms made her look more threatening than she really was, and the silver braids that were draped over her shoulders were evidence of her practicality. She wondered how long it would take for Captain Allen to save the day and get them back on course.

  "Ned, keep an eye on that one in the corner," the captain said loudly to a tall, burly man behind her. He had tattoos covering his arms and a generous ginger beard, his long fiery locks tied up into a bun that sat loosely on top of his head.

  Ned strode across the boiler room, surprisingly graceful amongst all the debris. He stopped in front of Barnaby and crossed his arms threateningly, the tiniest flicker of recognition flashing across his face.

  "I suppose Ned is just here to serve as muscle then," Barnaby hissed. "How utterly predictable that a pirate would rely on brute force to get what she wants." He squinted and looked at Ned, the very picture of masculinity. His glare softened and he raised an eyebrow. "I bet you don't even speak. Your types are rarely a paragon of intellect."

  Ned laughed a deep, hearty laugh, throwing his head back and slapping his knee. "Actually," Violet said, "Ned is my best navigator. He just doesn't enjoy speaking to slimy Coalition traders."

  Barnaby frowned, but fell silent.

  They heard a deep scream and
a series of thuds from the above deck, a Coalition crew member fighting off one of Violet's reprogrammed droids with a mop. Violet laughed, and Ned began his throaty laugh anew. "Who knew that these would cause quite so much ruckus?" Violet asked Ned, laughing.

  "Well, Kady obviously thought they were a good idea," he responded, "though I imagine their batteries won't last much longer with their current programming. We should get a move on, Boss."

  Violet scanned the room, looking for more valuable loot to relocate to her ship. "Soon, Ned," she reassured him, "But we need to finish what we came for first." She turned to Alice. "You can put your arms down if you wish. You would have attacked me already if you had the spine for it."

  Alice lowered her arms, glaring. "I have the spine for plenty of things, but risking my hide for a bunch of broken down droids isn't one of them." Alice leaned against a nearby cooling unit, her coveralls soaking up the condensation of the machine. After this tense encounter, the cold water was a welcome refreshment. She closed her eyes briefly as she enjoyed the cool dampness of the condensation, and wondered if she could use this experience to leverage her way to a pay raise. She could do with a few more credits every month.

  Kady entered and picked up another large crate. "Anything else in particular, Captain? Our cargo hold still has plenty of space if you have your heart set on something."

  Violet glanced at Alice out of the corner of her eye, but the large mechanic had no intention of bolting. "Make sure you get those droids, Kady," she said, "You can reprogram those as well for future endeavors." Kady gave a terse nod and exited the room with her crate of scrap metal, her long stride disappearing around a corner, her steps all but silent.