Trigger Warning: non-con in the sense of unwanted sexual attention; nothing graphic!
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– starship Fool's Fortune –
"How long will it take to reach the rendezvous?"
"About a chord, possibly a chord and a half."
"I suggest we take a brief reprieve at one of the Stations. We're in need of some supplies."
"And fuel!"
Doubledealer leans back in his chair, tapping his chin. While he doesn't want to waste more time than necessary delivering his current employer's package, he can't very well deny his crew or his ship of their own necessities.
"Fine. The mech's been waiting for millenia, he can wait a little while longer."
They plot a course for the closest space station, approximately sixty-five stellar miles away from their current location. When they arrive, they park their starship at one of the refueling stations, and all but Doubledealer deboard.
"Might as well see how our precious cargo is holding up," Doubledealer said to himself, rising from his seat. "Can't deliver damaged goods."
Doubledealer opens a door and steps inside a section of the starship's storage bay.
"The crew decided to set up shop on a station for a bit. Would any of you like anything while we're here?"
He then chuckles.
"Oh, right, I forgot…"
Doubledealer walks over to a pair of stasis pods secured to the left wall, holding the unconscious forms of Steeljaw and Ramulus.
"You can't hear me."
A clattering of chains from behind redirects his attention.
"It's not very becoming of a spy to cause such a ruckus, you know."
"Keep your damn input to yourself!" Phantomjaw snarled, struggling against his restraints.
The mercenary just laughs, not at all concerned by any threat the black and white Lupicon makes toward him.
"I can't believe how temperamental you are right now!" Doubledealer commented, turning around and approaching his conscious captive. "The old Phantomjaw I knew would never!"
"I'm still the same as I was before," Phantomjaw argued. "Just because parts of my life are different doesn't mean that I have changed."
"If that's the case, then you wouldn't be here. I know you always had your brother, but come on! You two were never really close to begin with. I wonder what's changed? You said it isn't you, so what else could there possibly be?"
Phantomjaw is suddenly overshadowed by Doubledealer, pinned between his bulkier frame and the wall. He flinches as his bound servos dig into his lower back. Doubledealer grabs his lower jaw and forces him to make optical contact.
"Or would it be a who? That tall blue fella you were with looks pretty tough, almost as tough as your brother's mate. And isn't it interesting how you two seem to have the same taste in mechs? Not that I'm one to judge. Like I said, he looks pretty fine to me. He must mean a lot to you, considering you sacrificed yourself to make sure he got away."
Phantomjaw doesn't respond. He feels Doubledealer's grip on him loosen.
"You love that mech, don't you?"
Phantomjaw can't deny it, but he isn't going to admit it, either. He leaves himself void of any emotion except irritation as Doubledealer remains standing there, staring at him.
Without warning, Doubledealer pulls in Phantomjaw for a kiss.
"Get off!" Phantomjaw growled, barely audible, though loud enough for the other mech to hear.
"I'm just picking up where we left off oh-so-long ago," Doubledealer mused as he pulled away slightly. "Tell me, how good of a partner is your mech friend?"
Phantomjaw doesn't take the bait.
"Really? Won't even give me a hint?"
A ping alerts Doubledealer to an incoming call through his commlink.
"What is it?"
{Customs, sir. We need to provide registration if we want to leave.}
"You've got to be fragging me…"
Doubledealer vents and releases Phantomjaw.
"This better not take long."
He locks the door on his way out and journeys to the hangar. From what he can tell upon arrival, half his crew is back. He spots his SIC and walks over to them.
"You! Where are the inspectors? You told them we wouldn't be staying long, right?"
The SIC comes to a halt in their own conversation and turns a perplexed look onto Doubledealer.
"I didn't call you, sir. At least, not yet. Maybe you intercepted someone else's frequency?"
This is the moment Doubledealer knew he fragged up. He sprinted back to the room he was just in, cursing up a storm the whole way. He fell silent just long enough to unlock the door. The second it opened, Doubledealer stomped inside and looked to his right, where Phantomjaw should have been. Now, there is blank space.
Well, except for the message.
Doubledealer couldn't stop reading it, and he was so distracted that he completely ignored the calls he was receiving from his crew.
Eventually, they all gathered downstairs to see what was keeping Doubledealer.
That is when they, too, saw the message.
– Never share your tricks with a spymaster, you arrogant fragger! –
Lovingly signed by Phantomjaw.
