Sexy Space Babes - Mechs, Maidens and Macaroons: Chapter Nineteen

 “Look at this!” Saria exclaimed, her voice echoing off the high ceiling of the warehouse as she clambered over the downed form of Jelara’s mech. “An honest to ancestors Thulian MK3 governess module. I can’t even remember the last time I saw one of these. How the fuck did you manage to get it to patch into the hydraulics system? It’s designed for exos.”

Jelara stood near the mech’s base, the duct-tape fix to her bodysuit from her scuffle with Sabine still clearly visible as she shifted from foot to foot.

“This one downloaded some software that would let us hack the firmware for both systems to make changes,” she burbled, her voice… not quite shy, but something close to it. “It’s not ideal. This one is no real coder, so we still get the occasional bug…  but it works for the most part.”

This wasn’t the shy and bashful Jelara he took a certain delight in bringing to the fore whenever he could. Nor was it the tough as nails badass bitch he knew she was most of the time.

This was… something akin to a public service face. The kind you’d use when you wanted something from someone and definitely didn’t want to offend them.

…Not that Saria even seemed to notice as she hummed at Jelara’s words, taking a cord from her data-pad and physically plugging it into what Mark could only assume was the aforementioned governess module.

To his left, Tenir sighed. Mark’s smile widened though, his amusement growing as the Pesrin engineer continued to jabber on as she – presumably – started making edits to Jelara’s subpar code. Which Jelara seemed all too relieved and grateful to receive.

Things were going well.

Sure, there’d been what seemed like a bit of a charged moment when the three women first met outside the warehouse. Tenir and Saria definitely hadn’t been too impressed when they’d first stepped out of the Pesrin’s car.

Her very expensive car.

Which looked very out of place amidst the cracked pavement, potholes and graffiti-clad warehouses that made up the area in which Jelara stashed her mech. Fortunately, it seemed the Pesrin was quite secure in the safety of her vehicle given that it apparently had some kind of security measures installed, but there was no missing the hint of disdain on both women’s faces as they regarded the many gazes that tracked the vehicle from the area’s locals.

Indeed, the whole thing served as something of an eye-opener for Mark. Said eye-opener being that, for all their quirks, Tenir and Saria were rich kids. Rebellious rich kids, who clearly worked hard in the field they’d chosen for themselves, but rich kids all the same.

A fact that was obvious in retrospect but stunning in the moment. Truth be told, he’d kind of mostly thought of them as simply Kalia’s entourage. Regular people who’d been propelled into the high life by their proximity to Kalia.

Like him.

But now that he thought about it, the fact that they’d even been able to attend the same university as Kalia – and thus enter her sphere of influence – meant they likely came from affluent backgrounds. Almost certainly not Kalia affluent, but definitely not poor either.

It had actually made him chuckle a bit when he realized that, for all that he’d been standing next to the pair when Jelara first walked over to them, he realistically had more in common with the slime alien than he did his two colleagues.

Fortunately though, it seemed the slightly stilted atmosphere wasn’t going to last long – as Saria seemed to have forgotten the existence of any kind of ‘rivalry’ she might have had with Jelara the moment they’d stepped into the hangar itself.

 “This is good. Like, not great, but good. Especially for a scratch-build. Though that coolant line’s a disaster waiting to happen,” the woman in question said, somehow already smeared with grease as she pulled a heavy duty looking screw-driver equivalent from somewhere to open a panel. “Ignoring the fact that it’s a great big target, it’s going to start clinching if you try to move limbs five and three parallel simultaneously. It needs to move up a few inches. And now I can also see a few other welding flaws you’re going to want to look at.”

As she spoke, her fingers were flying the screen of her data-pad evidently jotting down notes as she went, her tail flicking with each idea.

Jelara was nodding along avidly - all while her visor remained fixed on the datapad like it was a lifeline to her dreams.

Across from them, Tenir continued to stare at her friend in an expression that was something akin to betrayal, her silver eyes narrowing. Before finally she rolled her eyes, a frown tugging at her lips, as if chiding herself for expecting anything less from the gearhead.

“Useless furball,” she muttered.

Mark just chuckled, elbowing her in the side slightly, before nodding to Jelara. “Come on, play nice. You said you wanted to be here.”

And while he had no doubt that on some level both Saria and Tenir clearly wanted to scout out the ‘competition’ – in the bedroom, not the arena - he didn’t think either’s excitement at seeing a ‘grass roots’ mech was fake.

A complicated expression flitted across the Nighkru’s face at his chiding, before she took a breath, turning to address Jelara.  “Well, regardless of my colleague’s corrections, I can’t deny that this is a very impressive machine. Do you mind if I asked how you managed to finance all this? Even scavenged parts aren’t cheap after all.”

Jelara’s twitched, turning away from Saria to regard the business manager.

“This one works hard,” she said simply, her voice flat. “Multiple jobs hard.”

“Hmm, even with multiple jobs, getting a mech like this together is impressive. You must keep excellent control over your finances,” Tenir hummed thoughtfully, shoes clicking on the concrete-esque floot as she circled the mech.

And where Saria was looking at things from an engineering perspective, Mark had no doubt Tenir was looking at the aesthetics. Or mentally tallying the costs.

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“And how do you know Mark?” Tenir asked casually as she regarded the Ulnus.

Suffice to say she hadn’t exactly been too impressed when Mark had directed them here. It was a rough area, and that was saying something on Krenheim. This was the kind of place that would swallow up an innocent young alien guy like Mark all too easily. And it didn’t help that the ‘friend’ he’d brought them out here to meet was an Ulnus.

Which she felt awful for thinking… but the Ulnus had a reputation. One that was well earned. Because for all that the many disparate pirate bands that often made up the Ulnus population focused their efforts on the Imperium – that still meant that half the time the rest of the universe was equally a victim of their resource raiding.

Again, she felt bad for tattooing Mark’s new friend with the same luminescent as the rest of her race, but she couldn’t deny that the stigma a lot of Ulnus received was one that was well earned.

One that the Ulnus didn’t seem in any way inclined to shake.

Oh, she’d been perfectly polite, but there was no missing the unconscious swagger Tenir was well used to seeing in many of the more dangerous gang affiliated bruisers that hung around the colony. From her posture, to the ‘battle scars’ across her bodysuit, to the hand-cannon on her holster.

Sure, Tenir was armed too, but there was a difference between a small holdout pistol and something clearly designed to punch through power armor. That kind of weapon wasn’t cheap, and while some rich poser might have one for show, the woman across from her clearly wasn’t so affluent as to make that a likely reason. No, the only real reason she’d have a weapon like that was if she saw a genuine need for it in her private life or line of work.

So in short, this woman was likely a dangerous criminal.

…And of course, Mark had made ‘friends’ with her.

“Oh, she helped me out big time when I first landed,” he said, proving her point as he guilessly jumped off the workbench he’d been sitting on to ruin her subtle interrogation. “Honestly, my first day here might have been messy if she hadn’t stepped in at the space port.”

At the space port? How’d he manage to get in trouble there? She’d made sure to send Nendra to pick him up. She’d have been parked all of thirty feet from where he would have stepped off the ramp of the ship!?

Ignorant of her internal frustration, the damnably sexy and all too naïve human continued to chatter on in a way that was irritatingly similar to what her Pesrin colleague had moments before.

Though fortunately, said colleague seemed to be content to continue with her notes as the conversation shifted away from the machine she’d immediately focused on the moment they’d stepped in here.

Instead of the obviously gang affiliated Ulnus that had somehow gotten her hooks into a guy that the Persin should have cared about on some level!

“After keeping me from getting scammed, she also took me gun shopping. She also saw off a home invader not too long ago.” He continued.

“A home invader? You’re living together?” Tenir most definitely didn’t squak.

However, rather than the human, it was ‘Jelara’ who responded. “No, he lives in the same apartment complex as us. This one just so happened to hear someone trying to break into his place and did the neighborly thing.”

“Well, as Mark’s work colleague, you have my thanks for that.” Tenir reluctantly nodded.

And she genuinely was grateful – even as she privately determined to write a rather scathing review of the apartment complex she’d set Mark up in.

Top-notch security her silver ass!

She’d spent weeks trying to find somewhere for the chef that was cheap, close and safe – and someone tried to break into his place in the first two months!?

Ignorant of her inner frustration, the Ulnus just shrugged. “Was no big deal.”

Though the faint hint of red that flitted through her form give truth to the lie as she glanced at Mark.

Tenir frowned slightly, but resolved to put it aside for now. Getting on Mark’s case about his ‘friend’ would only come across as her being overly aggressive. Never mind that her concerns were now more borne of genuine concern for his safety than any kind of possessiveness.

Instead, she let her gaze soften, circling the mech again, as she allowed her very real admiration to show. Regardless of how the funds for the machine in front of her had been sourced, it really was a beautiful machine.

Not just in the design, which was what Saria was focused on, but in what it represented. The ongoing and vigorous efforts of a single person to better their lot in life crystalized into a single object.

Krenheim wasn’t a Consortium world any more than Tenir herself considered herself a ‘core world’ Nighkru, but that shared origin was enough that her family held some of the values of the Consortium close – despite the many years of drift between them.

One of which was an endless respect for entrepreneurial spirit.

Which Jelara would have needed in spades to manage to pull this hodgepodge machine together. Tenir couldn’t imagine just how many late nights and long hours had gone into it. Given the average lifespan of an Ulnus, possibly more than Tenir herself had been alive.

Sighing internally, she realized that, even if she had some entirely reasonable doubts about how the Ulnus had managed to pull all this off, she couldn’t bring herself not to want to help.

And not just because a cute guy had asked her to help with this – though that had certainly helped.

“Well, that aside, I can say that while I don’t have Saria’s eye, what you’ve accomplished alone is impressive,” she said, finally allowing herself to actually enjoy the moment. “A lone woman forging a mech entirely from the sweat of her own-”

She paused as she regarded the Ulnus’s bodysuit and notable lack of sweat glands.

“-Gel. That’s practically the Consortium dream right there. And I can think of a number of small businesses who’d sponsor that story in a heartbeat.”

She watched the Ulnus’s entire body roil. “Really? You know someone who’d really want to sponsor us and a scrap mech?”

It was Tenir could do not to scoff. “This is Krenheim. And a self-made woman building her own rig? That’s practically turox bait for any corp looking for a cheap bit of goodwill. Makes them seem ‘authentic’ and invested in the common woman. Because let’s face it, just about every woman on this rock has dreamed about owning a mech at some point.”

She eyed the mech, where Saria had at some point gotten into the guts of the machine. “Don’t get me wrong. They won’t back you to the hilt or anything. It’d be a few parts in all likelihood. A way to say they were there on the ground floor.”

The Ulnus gripped her arm as she glanced back at her mech, notably not making comment on what Saria was doing. “Even just a few parts would be…. Very helpful.”

Tenir didn’t doubt it, though she made sure to drive the point home regardless. “More to the point, be aware that if you lose your first match, they’ll just as likely drop you. Krenheim loves a winner and hates a loser.”

Jelara made a small gurgled scoff. “That, you didn’t need to tell us.”

Tenir nodded, as she pulled up her own omni-pad. “Well, on the downlow, I can point you in the direction of a few small time contacts you can reach out to. They should be interested, but make sure to get legal counsel to read through any contracts they put in front of you!”

This was still Krenheim after all.

And once more the Ulnus showed she was born in the colony by scoffing again. “Of course. And, thanks. For all of this. It’ll help a lot.”

Tenir shrugged. She’d not been lying when she’d told Mark this would be interesting. From a PR perspective, she was actually a little sad she’d not be able to be more involved with the whole thing. There was a real opportunity here – provided the Ulnus didn’t bomb her debut.

Which was… not entirely unlikely. Sure, it was clear to her as much as Saria that the woman’s mech was a cut above what most ‘self-made’ designers entered their first league with – but that was far from any kind of guarantee of success.

Mech fights were inherently unpredictable. Even the world’s most shoddily made piece of scrap could get lucky. And a well made design could get just as unlucky.

“Yeah, thanks Tenir!” Despite herself, the Nighkru found herself flushing – but only a little! – as Mark threw her some kind of… gesture with his hands. His thumbs were up. She assumed that was good.

“S’no problem,” she denied. “As I said, I mostly came because I was interested.”

…Even if she mostly wanted to make a good impression on Mark – and make sure Saria didn’t get ahead of her. Or this… Jelara.

Though she needn’t have worried on the former account, as the trio had barely finished speaking before Saria’s voice called out. “Great, now if you lot are done talking about boring shit, I need… slime girl up here!”

…The idiot had already forgotten the Ulnus’s name, hadn’t she. Still, Jelara didn’t complain, quite the contrary, as she eagerly climbed up the machine to look at whatever Saria thought was important.

She didn’t bother trying to eavesdrop, instead looking over the design once more as she thought of what conceptual design would likely fit the machine’s aesthetic best. Likely something aquatic. Sleek. Some kind of predatory fish.

…Hopefully the new pilot wouldn’t end up being pressured into going in for a piratical theme.

That would just be… gauche.

She was just thinking about where best to place a number of decals over the bottom limbs when Mark sidled up to her.

 “I said it before, but I just wanted to say it again. Thanks for this,” he murmured, voice low. “You didn’t have to come, bet or not. And I know this means a lot to Jelara - and that means it also means a lot to me. She really has helped me a lot since coming to this world.”

Ignoring the slight pang of jealousy that threatened to rise up in her – if he was having troubles, why not ask her for help!? – she shrugged bashfully, tucking a strand of hair behind her horns. “It’s really no problem. This was an interesting opportunity, really.”

“Still,” Mark leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, hand sliding boldly across her ass, as his fingers traced the curve of her pants. “I think I owe you a reward.”

Tenir blushed, biting her lip, her silver eyes darkening with heat. “Really?”

“Saria too,” he admitted, making her pout slightly, though that cleared up as he continued. “But I think hers can wait a bit. As it is, I think we’ll need a crowbar to get her out of here.”

That wasn’t untrue. Far from it, as Tenir could see that Saria was entirely focused explaining something to Jelara – who equally seemed to be trying to absorb every word spoken. The woman loved mechs. Even more than dick.

Though it was undoubtedly a hard fought win.

Her loss, the Nighkru thought smugly.

“I say we give it a few more minutes,” he whispered into her ear. “Then we get out of here.”

“And go where?” Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, she felt like an idiot.

The answer was obvious.

And this was part of why she had so much trouble with guys. The moment anyone tried to get… flirty with her, it was like her brains melted out of her ears.

Fortunately, Mark, being the divine ancestor he was, just smiled rather than laugh at her mistake.

“I was thinking, back to my place,” he said casually.

“Ah, I-I’d like that.”

She would.

A lot.

Any thoughts of subtly warning Mark about his new neighbor’s likely criminal ties promptly flew out the window in the face of an opportunity to get laid.

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

As the apartment door slid open with a soft beep, both he and Tenir spilled inside, the Nighkru making a small eep of surprise at the suddenness with which he’d jumped her outside.

She certainly didn’t complain though, returning the kiss ferociously as her hands slid under his shirt, the door closing shut automatically behind them.

He felt her claws graze his skin as she gripped the fabric and yanked the clothing over his head before tossing it to the floor. Moments later, Mark reciprocated, pulling her exercise top off in one swift motion, revealing the smooth silver expanse of her skin.

In the low neon light provided by his apartment’s massive window, her skin practically shone.

She was so hot, but before he could say as much-

“Gods you’re hot,” Tenir hissed as her lips mashed against his again, practically dragging him towards his home’s lone bed.

Amused at the synchronicity of their thoughts, he couldn’t help but note the difference between her first time and this.

Gone was the blushing virgin, and in her place was a voracious succubus whose fingers were now fumbling with his belt. It didn’t take her long, the buckle clinking loudly as it hit the plasteel floor.

Mark wasn’t idle either though, his hands sliding her shorts down, peeling them off her thighs, her skin warm and silky under his touch.

She helped him, by stepping out of them and kicking the fabric aside, her underwear following in a quick, graceless motion that made him chuckle.

He had no idea where those panties landed, but he was willing to bet it would be both high and difficult to find later. It was also amusing in that the actions clearly weren’t intended to be sexy.

She just really wanted the barriers to the next step out of the way and had chosen the most efficient method to achieve it.

“Someone’s eager,” he teased as her bare breasts pressed against his chest.

Her skin was hot to the touch and he could feel her heartbeat pounding in her chest as they both fell onto the bed. The mattress creaked under their combined weight, the thin fabric barely cushioning the impact.

Not that he had long to dwell on the threadbare nature of his bedding, as Tenir promptly straddled him with a speed that would have made spidermonky proud. And the pin that followed, as her thighs bracketed his hips was downright squidlike in its possessiveness.

“Mine,” she murmured – thought he had a feeling it was more to herself than him.

Though it was hot, especially the way her horns cast long shadows across her face, silver eyes glowing in the light as as she leaned down, kissing along his neck.

The sensation of her hungry lips made him Mark groan, his hands instinctively gripping her hips, even as he thights clamped down around him – the wet heat of her cunt pressing against his own hardened erection.

She ground against him, a low moan escaping her as she did.

“In me,” she demanded, a hungry gleam in her eyes as she wrapped her hand around him,  guiding him to her entrance, the slick petals of her pussy enveloping him as she sank down.

Mark hissed, the tight, scalding grip of her insides threatening to overwhelm as her walls clenching fully around him.

“Fuck, Tenir,” Mark grunted.

She grinned, little in the way of her earlier dorky awkwardness present – smothered by lust as she gazed down at him.

“That’s the idea,” she murmured, pressing her chest forward as his hands came up to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples.

And just because he was letting her take charge didn’t mean he intended to be passive. Instead, he enjoyed her quiet gasps as he both played with her rock hard nipples and thrust up into her.

She wasn’t passive either, her hips grinding against him with urgency while the cot beneath them groaned in protest. Still, while enthusiasm and confidence had their place, they were no defense against experience. Her movements were aggressive, but with each passing moment they grew more desperate, needy, each thrust growing more erratic – even as she sougth to drive him deeper into her.

So, he made his move, thrusting up to meet her at just the right moment, the slick sounds of their bodies slapping together filling the small apartment.

And Tenir’s moan turned into a shriek, then a whimper as her orgasm rocked through her like a cannon shot.

It wasn’t hard to draw out. Practically all the work was done for him, given how proverbially hot to trot she’d gotten herself.

Still, he wasn’t immune to the smoldering intensity that had developed on the car ride over either.

So, as she rode through her own orgasm, he felt his balls drawing up in preparation for his own ‘explosion’.

And as her nails dug deep into his skin, leaving faint red marks to mark their passage, Mark felt his control slip – and he spilled into her with a groan, his cock pulsing as he filled the alien above him with his human seed.

The sensation was overwhelming in all the best ways. And each rode it out until they collapsed together.

Or rather, Tenir collapsed atop him, her heaving sweaty form practically glowing in the light. Honestly, he wouldn’t have been too surprised to see steam coming off her.

Alas, Krenheim’s ambient temperate was warm enough that that wasn’t likely to ever be a consideration. Even if the imagery evoked was rather arousing.

“Well, that was definitely worth a short business consultation,” Tenir murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction.

She shifted, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw as Mark chuckled, his voice rough.

“I’m glad you think so,” he murmured.

She rolled off him, sprawling across the cot. Or at least, sprawling insomuch as the limited space allowed.

…And promptly started snoring.

A feat that was as amusing to see this time as it had been the first. Because a graceful and refined slumberer, Tenir was not. Still, he did his best to ‘clean up’ a bit, before he too allowed himself to nod off to sleep.

All in all, today had been rather productive.

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As the first rays of Krenheim’s dawn filtered through the absurdly large window of Mark’s apartment, he took a moment to enjoy the way the light danced over Tenir’s silver skin.

Then he turned back to the frying pan, flipping the makeshift pancake within. It wasn’t ‘authentic’ but truth be told, it wasn’t really all that different from what you’d find on Earth either.

Flour tended to be flour – regardless of the origin.

Between that and faux-syrup he had, he felt reasonably certain that any human he fed this to wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference.

For the most part.

The consistency had been slightly chewier than the real thing in his last batches, but he’d changed up the ratios for this attempt and he had high hopes that this batch would be ‘the one’.

Even if it wasn’t?

Eh.

“Hmmm, what’s that? Smells good,” Tenir’s voice murmured from is bed, her voice thick with sleep as she stirred slightly on the cot.

“Just something I’m recreating from Earth with some local stuff,” Mark said, sliding a pancake onto a plate. “They’re called pancakes.”

Tenir hummed as she slowly levered herself upright, still clearly half-asleep even as her lips curved into a lazy smile while she stretched.

Given she was fully nude, it made for a hell of a sight – even if the alien clearly wasn’t trying to be sexy.

He was about to say as much, when his omni-pad beeped. He glanced over, expecting a message from Jelara or Saria -  given both had stayed behind at the warehouse last night, likely tinkering into the morning.

Instead though, his smile faded as he saw the ID.

Sabine.

That… wasn’t ideal.

Nor was the message beneath:

‘Hope you’re ready to help save Earth, because our timetable just got moved up. I need you to meet me tonight.’

Double shit.

Still, he knew he’d be there.

Even if he also knew he’d rather be doing anything else.