Author Topic: A History of Time to Come  (Read 1417 times)

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saltmummy626

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Re: A History of Time to Come
« Reply #15 on: October 04, 2021, 08:16:19 pm »
"How is your back treating you, Ms. Walker?"

"Like heck. Please Hector, just Catnip. You can't just change to a more formal tone after so much time."

Catnip leaned over her cane and looked over what the chapel had taken in for repairs and what they'd been paid. Russian weapons, old ones. Fine ones. The chapel had neatly packed them back up into new boxes just in time for Catnip and Hector to come and take a look before the fresh new lids were nailed down. Hector shuffled a little uncomfortably at Catnip's request. His station demanded a certain level of courtesy and aplomb that he had grown accustomed to.

"I'm sorry Nip, you know how it is." He apologized.

"Of course. People have expectations of how bigshot schmot guys like us have to behave and some habits die hard. These are good rifles yeah? The chapel is keeping these here, as payment, but we've blueprinted all of them. Does your order need anything like these? We can of course make more of them." Catnip asked in return. Hector looked over the weapons with an eye that had diminished little in it's expertise in the last twenty or so years.

"No, well, yes. But New Paris and the outlying settlements should be taken care of first. My people have plenty to work with as it is. Especially thanks to the mechanics you sent us." Hector said, easing up a bit.

"Oh, that reminds me. How are they? Chase, Maria, and Deids? I heard they'd been making improvements to your armor?" Catnip asked. Hector nodded at that and grinned.

"They're doing well. The armor was a bit stiff during the first few tests, but when it came time to actually use it, it performed like a dream. Or so I heard." Hector told her with a bit of pride. It was Catnip's turn to nod at something and share in Hectors pride. The trio of mechanics Catnip had sent to assist Hectors own aging technician had begun work immediately on improving the exoskeletons used by Hectors heavier units, culminating in the recovery and repair of an S.H. class powered armor. A hulking monstrosity had appeared in a small settlement called Blueville and the Lilith sized suit had been dispatched along with a small group to deal with it. The suit, Catnip and Hector had been informed, had performed beyond expectation by punching the hulks head into its chest cavity.

"Excellence." Catnip said.

"Excell-ent." Hector corrected.

"Either, or." Catnip countered. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and adjusted the cane so she could run a hand over one of the machine guns. "You should come around to the chapel more often Hec."

"You see me around the farm all the time though." Hector mused, wondering what brought that on.

"No, to the chapel. My people and you're people should have more interaction. I know some of my craftsman can be a bit... preachy, sometimes but still. I think it would benefit the chapel to see how your people are putting the things they make to use, and it would be good for your people to see how some of their gear is made and maintained." She explained. Hector pursed his lips, then grinned. Sure they'd seen each other plenty but had they talked? Really talked? Not really. Mica hadn't talked to him much either, but Mica had been more overt about the disapproval that had spurred on that drifting. Disapproval of what? Disapproval which started the moment it became known that Hector had taken a second girlfriend, and that Roxanne was alright with it. Catnip had coped and moved on, Mica had begun to do the same before she passed, and Kathrine... Kathrine would never approve. Would never even look at Hector's relationships with anything besides thinly veiled distaste. It was a shame that they'd drifted apart in such a way.

"You know what?" Hector said with a clap, "Sure. Why not? I'll arrange to have some of our old equipment brought over and have the men stick around to observe. If that won't get in the way of your peoples workload, that is?"

"That's not what I meant Hec." Catnip laughed, "but I get what you mean. The craftpriest's would be happy to host you."
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NOCTIFER IS A FAGGOT