Rawlin hiked her rucksack higher onto her shoulder before glancing both ways. The back street was practically empty except for the few drunk stragglers, who hadn't enough sense to get out of the rain before they caught pneumonia. The loud roaring from a nearby river could be heard from where they stood out of the noise of the busier streets. Stepping down from the low platform, her steel boots made a soft clanging sound as they met the cement, water splashing up from a puddle and onto the hem of the cloth hanging from her shorts. The cloth revealed the front of her shorts, that stopped barely below the tops of her thighs, but swung around to hide the sides and backs of her thighs from view. Which would make it near impossible to see the holster that held her colt handgun, fully loaded and ready to fire, that is until you were up close in her personal space.
Stepping out into the street, Rawlin steered clear of the drunken stragglers, making her way quickly and quietly across the street onto the opposite side. From there she took a sharp left turn onto the neighboring back street. The noise from the traffic and people started to grow louder as she approached the main street that would take them to the airship docks. Slipping and blending into the crowd easily, Rawlin joined a small group of airmen, taking up their conversation quickly. "Well if the engine is cutting out on you like that, it means you've busted the fuel pipe. You'll have to weld it back together if it's not too bad, but if it's a major leak you're going to have to replace it. Your ship won't last twenty minutes out in that weather with a busted fuel pipe," she informed, dusting off her hands on the cloth hanging from her shorts.
The mechanic she had been conversing with stared at her as if she had two heads. "Where did ya learn that girly?" he asked, his voice gruff from years of smoking cigarettes. A cigarette hung form the corner of his mouth, smoke blowing from his nose as he walked along beside Rawlin. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she gave a shrug, not interested in sharing the personal details of her life. "So tell me, do you know where Alizain would be docked?" she asked curiously, keeping her eyes ahead of her so she wouldn't give the man the wrong impression. Airmen would even take a glance as 'I'm interested lets find a private place and get down to business', most of them were pigs. But they did stay around their own kind a lot, so it was hard to learn different. That there was something better than women and booze.
The man narrowed his eyes at Rawlin and for a moment wondered why she was interested in such a famous ship as that. Raising his hand to point towards the far end of the docks, where a whole group of men were headed. Bulky bags thrown over their shoulders, preparing themselves for months of traveling in the open, dangerous skies. Rawlin nodded her thanks before she broke out of the group of men, sliding through the crowds of men towards the far end of the docks. Checking the watch attached tightly to her upper arm, the time was only a couple minutes from Alizain's departing time. Picking up her pace to a fast walk, nothing got in her way, hopping over crates and dodging past men as the ship came in sight. The captain was standing on the edge of the loading bay door, giving an announcement to the hundreds of crewmen standing around on the docks, ready to take to the skies.
As Rawlin came up to the ship, she skirted around the large group of men, reaching the edge of the ship. Pressing her gloved hand to the cold steel of the ship, she breathed out slowly and let her eyes slip closed. The humming of the ship vibrated throughout her body, joy lighting up inside of her at the life beating inside of the large ship. Opening her eyes, she checked around her to make sure no one was watching before she tossed her rucksack through an open window a foot above her. Leaping up, a small grunt of effort escaped her as her hands grabbed the edge of the window and her body jerked back towards the docks. Lifting her body up easily, she wiggled her way in, landing on her shoulder with a light thud before rolling onto her feet. No one would be aboard since the ship had just been repaired and the captain was addressing his brand new crew. There wasn't an old crew except for a few of the more trusted crewmen, but they would be outside making sure the new crew didn't get too rowdy.
Bending over her rucksack, Rawlin pulled out a stick of dynamite, it was old-fashioned but it certainly did it's job well. She could hear the Captain drawing to a close, which means she had to do this. And quick. Bolting out of the map room, Rawlin took a sharp right turn and ran for the loading bay. Leaping over the stairs, she tucked and rolled back onto her feet in a flash. Slowly approaching the loading bay door, she peeked around the corner of a crate to see the Captain making his last line of the speech and preparing to step back in order to let the crew in. Suddenly she took off down the ramp, the loud, echoing clanging of her boots on the metal bay door drew the captain's attention. Turning around, his brows instantly lifted up in shock as he stared at the spitting image of his five-year old daughter. "Rawl-" he started to say as she ran at him, but he was cut off as her boot met his chest in a powerful kick. Stumbling backwards, the captain went flying off the loading bay door onto the docks below.
Lighting the stick of dynamite, Rawlin chunked it at the docks and hardly a second later, an explosion went off. Snapping the ropes the ship was tied to the dock with as the dock at the very edge started to fall apart and the ship gave a shuddering groan before it began to seperate from the crumbling dock. Rawlin grinned smugly and saluted her father with two fingers as the ship began to leave the dock. "Kiss this you senile, old fool," she yelled and turned around, slapping her rear before she headed up the loading bay door to the cargo bay. There was only enough time for a couple of quicl reactors to leap on.
_________________ Writing is best when it's pure and raw and genuine. Don't filter when you write, just let your soul out onto the page.
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