Cain Marko: Part 4 - My Mechanic...

I stared at the doorway as Charlotte left. To have actually hear her say those words. She may not blame me, but she was still disappointed. I couldn’t blame her. I was disappointed in myself too. I balled my right hand into a fist again and assailed my forehead with it. Artie sat there and watched me with a frown on his face.
                I shook my head. I can't think like this right now. My main concern is to find my daughter now and that’s all that matters. To do that I’ll need a ship. "Artie!" The great oaf jumped up out of his seat and stared at me with a dumbfounded look.
                "Aye, sir?" he yelled back at me. He wiped the sweat that appeared on his brow with the back of his hand. Good, he's nervous and that’s how I want him to be right now. I don't need a friend to cheer me up or ask me if I’m alright. I need a mechanic, and the one in front of me is the best I know. He is probably going to hate me after all of this, but I need him.
                "Artie. You're going to equip this arm here with any weapon - offensive and defensive - and get me prepared." I swiped the blanket off my body and looked at the rest of the damage of my torso. He wasn’t lying when he said I was missing half my left side. I stared at the beauty of the mechanisms on my arm and what was formerly the left side of my ribcage. I was slightly mystified by the gears turning, and the work that Artie had put into it. If this is what he could do in a few hours, maybe he could – I shook my head and pushed myself out of that wondering. I had work to do and I could familiarize myself with my new arm later. I winced in pain as I moved my legs to the edge of the bed and felt the cold flat steel of the deck below my toes. Least I still had feeling there.
                'Bu-but sir, you need to get re-,” he started to stammer out.
                "ARTIE!” I yelled as I interrupted him. “I'll tell you what I need to do and what you need to do when I need it done. And right now, you're going to find a way to get my pistol and my knife, and any other damn thing we can think of into in this bloody arm!"
                Artie jumped up quick and ran to me and examined the arm, his experienced fingers moving quickly over the metal and gears. “Yes, sir. I’ll do my very best.” He worked diligently through the night and the following days. I let him rest a few times, but once he was back up I put him back to work.
                I got my mechanic. Now I need a ship.

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