Thranos and Grakyl, Part III

The Intrepid was a well-crafted ship, despite having been a salvage job. Thranos had done the best he could with the parts available, and it was in the ship's reconstruction that he had met Grakyl. Together, the two cobbled the ship together, and set out into the world. Their first job was a rather menial one, but after that, they were unfortunate enough to be drafted - along with their ship - into the Analytical War, fighting on the side of the analytics. Grakyl managed to engineer an escape, however, and the two successfully fled, along with sufficient supplies to make the Intrepid a fully-functional ship.

It was during their time in the war that Thranos had devised his flight mechanism, which he did not share even with the gremlin. He had installed it himself, when they had time, and the gremlin often referred to it as the "blood box," as Thranos had covered the entire mechanism in a thin sheet of an orichalcum alloy, a red-gold metal. It was the one part of the ship that the gremlin had been expressly forbidden to touch; while Thranos trusted the gremlin with his life, the secrets of its maneuverability were something he did not trust him with.

"Um, Thran?" The gremlin's voice echoed out of the box on Thranos' left. "Th' LeyBrossian's shakin'..."

"I thought ye said she was shiftin' 'fore we took off?" Thranos replied gruffly.

"Yeah, but..." The gremlin seemed uncertain.

Thranos decided to ask the difficult question. "Will she hold tagether?"

The machine was silent for a moment, though Thranos thought he heard a low clicking sound ("Is tha' th' gremlin, or th' ship?" He mused to himself). "Yeah, she'll hold."

"Good." Thranos replied. "I'll set 'er on an easy course. No jerkin' aroun', so she should hold tagether." He mused for a moment, stroking his beard. "What about th' steerin'?"

"Yer blood box?" Grakyl asked, and Thranos thought the gremlin sounded somewhat amused. "Ya don't let me near it, so I dunno."

Thranos rolled his eyes. "Git nex' tae it an' lemme listen, ya li'l bastard."

The machine grew silent for a few moments, then Thranos heard an audible humming, with an occassional click. ("Click... click... click..." Thranos counted the clicks to himself.) "Shif' th' LeyBrossian up a gear." He said, after a few moments.

"She won't go any higher!" The gremlin exclaimed. "I said she was shiftin', an' I meant it!"

Thranos grimaced. ("If th' LeyBrossian can't go up a gear... maybe th' Folkorian 'ssembly?" Thranos was stymied.) "Set th' angular torque on th' Folkorian down ta three an' three quarters on th' main prop, wi' two an' a half on th' secondary."

"Ya want me to shift th' Folkorian down in flight?" Grakyl asked, his voice expressing surprise.

"Ya can shift 'er down by twistin' th' angle bracket on th' steerin' assembly. Twis' ta th' left."

"...I guess I dunno what's wrong." Came a confused and desperate reply. "If ya could tell me, I could get workin' on a solution..."

"Main gear in th' blood box is goin' too fast, by 'bout two rotes a minit." Thranos replied. "Angular torque on th' props is too high."

"But if we lower the torque, th' LeyBrossian's gonna shift up!" The gremlin exclaimed.

"How th' hell did ya rig th' damn thing?" Thranos bellowed. "Ya li'l bastard, did ya rig th' LeyBrossian ta th' angle brackets, or ta th' Folkorian?"

"Both!"

Thranos paused, amazed. ("How th' hell did 'e manage that?" He thought to himself.) "I'd ask ya why ya did tha', but we'll leave 'er be. Steerin' seems ta be fine, so long as we don't havta do anythin' too risky. But when we get th' chance, ye're fixin' this."

A sigh came from the other side of the box. "Fine, fine, whatever ya say, Thran..."

Thranos narrowed his eyes. He was not terribly concerned with how the gremlin performed maintenance on the ship, but if his rigged repairs were extending across the entire ship, that could cause problems if they were in a situation in which they needed to maximize the ship's performance. While he understood that the gremlin did what he could, they needed some hard coin to buy more supplies.

-----

Three hours later, the port city of Cara'nor was visible in the horizon. One of the few seaports of Kahasal, it had a bustling economy, a major center of trade and commerce for the psionic peoples that inhabited the continent of Lotharien. Crytalline buildings bit into the sky near the center of town, amongst which a shoddily-built airdock rested.

The dwarf began to speak the human's name, but Tetra was already on-deck. "I know, Thranos Bluebeard. We will be arriving shortly."

Thranos nodded grimly. "We'll be droppin' ya off 'ere in Cara'nor. We'd take ya ta where ya need ta go, but ye haven't said, an' we've got other plans ta deal wi'."

Tetra nodded. "I'm aware, and I understand. Cara'nor will be sufficient."

"Well, ye best be gittin' down, then. Landin's a bit rough." The dwarf grimaced.

Tetra nodded once more, and headed belowdecks.

"Grakyl!" Thranos yelled into the box. "Git 'er ready fer th' landin'!"

"Um... alright. You think she can take it?" Grakyl's voice was uncertain.

Thranos mused for a bit. The landing pad on the airdock was visible now; the ship was fortunately capable of vertical landing, so the short runway wasn't an issue. ("But if our steerin' goes, we won't be able tae make a good landin'..." The dwarf thought.)

The dwarf sighed. "If th' LeyBrossian starts strippin', jus' let 'er go."

"What!" The gremlin exclaimed. "Ya want me ta le-"

"Jus' do it!" The dwarf roared back. "Ya're not tae blame fer it, since I told ya tae do it. But we gotta make this landin' nice an' neat, an' nice an' neat this dwarf ain't, so we may havta shif' th' steerin' column..." ("Th' steerin' column! A course!") "Th' sixteen-gauge is what's causin' th' problems!"

"Mebbe?" The gremlin's response came slowly.

"Nae, lad, it's got tae be. We kin do this, but ye got ta git ready. Ye're goin' ta havta be quick on yer feet." He paused. "We clear fer landin'?"

The box suddenly erupted in static. "Intrepid, we hear and see you loud and clear. Landing pad two is open. Sending landing parameters now..." The device erupted into a sequence of chirps. ("Damn engine-men, always thinkin' everybody's runnin' wi' their machines...")

"We ain't got a box, so quit yer yappin'!" Thranos bellowed.

The chirping continued, unabated.

"Grakyl!" The dwarf bellowed into the box. "Change th' channel!"

There was a response of some sort, though the dwarf couldn't make it out, and the chirping stopped.

"Arrival time?" The gremlin's voice asked, sounding slightly more distant.

Thranos took a quick glance at the landing pad ahead. They were just about over the shore, now; the sun shone brightly off of the water, and reflected brilliantly off of the crystalline towers in the distance. "I'd say 'bout five minutes, give er take. Takin' 'er slow."

"Righ'." The gremlin replied. "So... how do ya wan' me ta do this?"

The dwarf thought for a long moment, as the ground beneath them continued to pass them by. "We're not usin' th' eighteen-gauge in the LeyBrossian, aye?"

"Yep." The gremlin responded. "We can't go inta fourth gear, so it's not bein' used."

"I want ya ta rip it ou', an' replace th' steerin' column wi' it." Thranos said slowly, to ensure he was understood.

"You want me to what?" The gremlin answered, his voice incredulous.

"Ya heard me." Thranos said. "Replace th' steerin' column."

"Th' LeyBrossian's shakin' already, an' ya want me ta replace th' steerin' column in flight?" Grakyl asked, his pitch raising higher and higher.

The dwarf drew in a deep breath. "If I don' touch th' wheel, she should be good tae go."

"No, no!" The gremlin yelled. "If I take out th' steerin' column, the wheel's gonna fall! Ya gotta hold it in place, perfect-like!"

Thranos smiled. "But ya kin do it, if we were tae do th' repair like that?" His heart began pumping faster.

"Takin' th' eighteen-gauge outta th' LeyBrossian... I dunno, mebbe?" Grakyl replied cautiously. "It might be an angle bracket, an' then we're out a LeyBrossian - cause it's gonna shake itself apart, if we do this - an' then th' blood box'll go, 'cause it's geared ta th' LeyBrossian, an' we ain't got a steerin' column that'll fit... not ta mention th' Folkorian's gonna go..."

"Kin. Ya. Do it." Thranos asked, giving firm voice to each syllable.

There was a high-pitched sigh on the other side of the speaker. "...aye, we kin do it."

Thranos smiled. "Then do it. On th' count a three, I'm gonna grip th' wheel an' hold 'er perfec'ly steady, an' yer gonna take th' eighteen-gauge outta th' LeyBrossian, an' replace th' steerin' column wi' it."

"She's gonna be rough." Grakyl replied, somewhat more calm than before.

"Oh, aye, I ken." Thranos answered, still smiling widely. "This is th' sorta thing I live for. Ready?"

"Aye, ready."

"One."

Pause.

"Two."

Pause.

"Three."