The cavalry repair and requisitions dock for Antares are one and the same, sequestered off in a dark and dingy corner of the station that most agents don't step foot in except when necessary. It's a matter of practicality. Between the demands of the mission backlog and the understaffed mechanic and engineering department, it's rarely a matter of finding a vehicle that's in pristine condition and more about finding one that just might run in a pinch.

Bruce Springsteen blares from a ragged old boombox, a treasured relic in a station that rarely has access to quality goods from home. Kate adores Nebraska, an eccentricity that draws the chagrin of her human colleagues and puzzles the aliens on the crew. Still, it's a fitting match to the space: all exposed phosphorescent lighting and smoke mixed with the smell of exhaust and oil.

The bay seems empty at first, but eyes eventually comb through the labyrinth of bikes and speeders in various states of disrepair to finally notice the pretty girl on her back beneath a dingy corvette cruiser, alternating between directing a patois of colorful intergalactic curses at the cruiser above her and singing along to the music as she bangs at the small ship's undercarriage with a wrench.

Vidalia steps into the dock quietly enough, which isn't hard to do given the noise from the radio and the mechanic. She hadn't actually visited here before, having nit been on station that long and usually out on a mission regardless. Still, it had struck her that maybe it would be nice to have a bike or something. She needs to fuel that adrenaline addiction when she's not busy.

She pauses to listen to the music l, humming softly and the singing under her breath with the lyrics as she approaches. Sure, she usually prefers metal or classic hard rock, but there's nothing wrong with this.

"Tonight, tonight the strip's just right
I wanna blow 'em off in my first heat
Summer's here and time is right
For goin' racin' in the street."

She crouches down and looks at the mechanic for a moment, admiring her grease smudged form from that angle before she taps the woman's foot to get her attention.

"Hey, you got bikes and speeders for personal use in here?" She glances up at the vehicle that the woman is working on. "Or this thing. What is it?"

She's too busy cursing at an inanimate object to hear the singing. "Worthless grokking piece of shit!" She raps the underside hard enough to echo through the hangar. The tap on her foot jolts her to attention, her head nearly bashing against a strut. Eyes peer surly at the unorthodox boots of the interloper, mind seethes at her words. Another weekend warrior looking to clumsily wreck one of her babies, no doubt. "This thing is a Mark V Vandalorian Patrol Cruiser." Words dripping condescension as she slips out from underneath the lift. She reaches for a rag to wipe at her brow. Her long, lean frame is squeezed into a pair of cut-offs and tank top, sleek musculature slick with sweat and grease. Smudged oil streaks her pretty, olive face. "You're going to need a requisition form signed by--Oh..."

There's a long, blinking pause as her eyes finally alight on the chiseled beauty in her... unorthodox attire. Eyes drift up and down her frame with the unfettered and unambiguous curiosity of a mechanic. "What the fuck are you wearing?" And then, voice dropping to a murmur. "What I wouldn't give to look inside of that." Blunt and shameless and oblivious. She's talking about the suit of course, digging into all its mechanical workings, but her eyes have trouble drawing away from the full swell of Vi's chest as she wipes her hands clean.

"Do I?" She asks, taking a step back from the woman. Even on base she goes armed, a pistol on her hip as suits a gun nut like herself. "I didn't think I did, if I wanted one of your custom jobs." She smiles at the mechanic and then glances at the ship. "Don't know much about these." She admits. "But I do know those guns." She steps around to the front of the ship, reaching up to touch the twin gating guns. "30 millimiter? I know it's only good in atmosphere but there's nothing like it." She almost purrs as she talks, her hand caressing the assembly of barrels.

Either she doesn't hear or doesn't respond to the murmured comment as she answers the question directed at her. "My combat suit. Let's me run faster and jump higher. Provides some in air and underwater maneuverability and even let's me survive in vacuum for a little while. Got a retractable face shield." She taps a spot at the back of her neck and smiles. "Helps when I get into fights too. Been wanting to update it. Direct access to the servers and all that. Maybe a sort of radar or map on a hud would be nice."

She shrugs and looks back at the mechanic. "But I'm here for a bike. Or a speeder. Even a two seat cruiser could be good. Something with a big engine that goes fast." She almost sounds excited, stepping in closer to the still smudged woman. "Got anything like that?"

Still coveting the suit with her eyes, openly wandering down the length of Vidalia's back as she explains its features, Kate's breath drawing a little shallower. Fingers fumble on the table with the boom box to extract a cigarette and a lighter. She draws a drag, exhaling as Violet's fingers lovingly fondle over the ship's guns. "Jam up like crazy, but that little sweetheart deserves the attention. Yeah, you're supposed to cross your t's, dot your i's, but maybe we can arrange something."

Turning the cigarette over between her fingers, her shoulders brushing the soldier's as she walks past, back turned. The tight denim of her shorts frames her ass like a perfectly ripe peach. Her fingers trace over each of the cavalry vehicles she passes with the sort of caressing tenderness most afford only to a lover. "So how do you like it? Rough, mean, and powerful? Sleek, nimble, and fast?" Pretty eyes turned over her shoulder as she stops before a hulking hoverbike, a stripped down monster that's all chrome and power without any of the cosmetic flair. "More important, what can you handle?" There's still a bit of skepticism as she watches Vidalia. "The last agent who tried to take this out... well... it rode her. We found her miles away, pinned underneath it, crying and squirming away as it belched smoke and rumbled atop her."

"Well, both have their advantages." She says, following behind the mechanic and taking a moment to admire her denim clad backside. "I do like mean and powerful, but there's something to be said for nimble and fast. "

Still, she's a muscle car girl through and through. We're this back on earth, she'd pick Detroit over Japan any day.

She steps up to the bike, reaching to fell of it as she presses in beside Kate. "What I really need is a test drive or two." She says. You willing to go out with me? Make sure I don't hurt your baby? I'll do the same for you if you ever want a little trigger time. " She pats the weapon on her hip and winks.

"You need time to change before a ride or are you good like that?" She steps around behind Kate, her tightly encased breasts pressing against the mechanics back as Vi reaches to touch another part of the bike.

"Bet that big engine makes a wonderful sound."

Kate isn't exactly prone to loaning her babies out, but... this woman is so commanding and confident and she can feel the heat coming off her body, the soft breeze of her breath tickling against her cheek. "Like a million growling demons..." she murmurs in response to Vi's words. "Tell you what. You let poke around me inside that suit sometime and I'll take you for a spin. Let me get changed"

Moving quickly as she cuts across the hangar, perhaps a bit nervous, perhaps a bit giddy as she fumbles through her locker for her jumpsuit. There's a makeshift screen to protect the modesty of the mechanics, but modesty is hardly one of the greatest virtues on Antares, and Vi could be treated to a tantalizing view if she tipped her head just right. Kate undresses with the workmanlike efficiency one might expect, boots stripped off messily, shirt and shorts flung hastily into the locker as she plucks her flight suit from hanger and zips herself in, weathered leather yellow and black, like a faded bumblebee. It's not as ostentatious as Vidalia's ensemble, but it hardly leaves much to the imagination, hugging to her supple curves, all metal clasps and zippers. She hastily turns to head back before thinking better of it, pausing instead to linger at the locker's dusty mirror. She pivots in front of her reflection, examining her figure, frowning slightly at the way her ass sticks out in the tight jumpsuit, and then leans in to clean her face off, freeing her hair from its tight ponytail. There's a slight blush to her cheeks as she stares herself down. "You're a sexy beast."

And then she turns, saddling her small pistol at her side, slipping around the corner of the screen. "Ready. So which one do you want to take out?"

Vi does indeed tilt her head to watch, though it is only a tease of a show. "I guess you can." She says after a moment. "If you promise to be good." She can't help but grin, making herself comfortable as she settles back next to the big machine.

Once Kate returns, it is Vi's turn to sgare, admiring the tight leather on the racer body. "This one." She says, patting the big beast. "Guess you want to drive though? Show me how it's done? Last thing I want to do is hurt your baby."

She takes a step back, waiting for Kate to climb on before she slips in behind, wrapping her arms around the other woman's waist and pulling herself in tight so breasts press firmly to the speedster's back.

"I'm never good. But I'm efficient. and thorough." There's a quirk of a smile as she settles onto the beast, the intergalactic equivalent of a roaring hog. There's a familiar rush of excitement and comfort as she settles cozily onto the leather seat, but there's something else, the raw comfort of human touch rarely felt by the gearhead, arms tight around her slender waist, the full sensual heat of her body pressed to Kate's back, the weight of her breasts, the snug wrap of her legs. It's enough to bring a heat to Kate's thighs, a heat that's typically reserved for the purr of an engine beneath her.

She twists the throttle and the bike roars to life, a thundering, relentless rumble between the legs of both women. For Kate, it's the touch of a comfortable lover. For Vi, surely something new, something exciting. A tap of the screen and the hangar doors open to endless expanse of sand. A twist of the acceleration and they're tearing across the surface of the hangar. Vi is forced to hang on, to lock her thighs around the mighty vibrator between her legs just to hang on, a mighty bounce driving the bike hard against her nether regions as they hit the sands and the world sinks to blur.

Vi gasps when the bike roars to life. She hasn't ever experienced anything like that and it's beyond her expectations by far. She can't help but grin broadly as her arms tighten around Kate. The agent is forced to hold on when the bike accelerates, threatening to toss her off and leave her in the dust. Thankfully she has the mechanic to hold onto...and what a grip.

She can feel the tight, lean muscle of Kate's abs beneath her fingers, shielded by a layer of leather that Vi would love to get her hands under. One hand even rises up, brushing over the other woman's breast before settling just beneath it. She doesn't want to wreck this beast after all. It feels as if she is straddling the world's largest vibrator. She can feel it through her entire body. No wonder the speedster loves riding this thing.

Vi adjusts soon enough, perking over Kate's shoulder to watch where they are going, all while squeezing herself in tighter...and maybe grinding her hips against the bike and the other woman, just a little.

It's like a place of zen. That fierce thunder beneath their legs is as often the cause of disaster among amateur riders as the inability to properly steer it, but it elicits in Kate a sort of focused precision, one that the presence of the beauty behind her is throwing off course. The bike tears across the desert, its power stirring up sand around it even as it hovers a good foot off of the surface. The engine rumbles beneath them, a warm, pleasant insistence that radiates from their humming sex and climbs upwards.

There's a soft gasp as Vi's hand cups her breast, and she takes a hand off the bars to take her by the wrist, casually guiding her fingers down the sleek expanse of leather-clad torso, lingering briefly at the thumping rise of her heart to settle finally between her legs, eager and radiating heat like a furnace. Vidalia can't see the way her cheeks blush crimson as she guides the bike through an expanse of cacti, thighs hugged tight around the humming beast with a power a girl of her size shouldn't be capable of, the sharp turns and pivots guiding the rumbling bike like a massage, tickling the entire length of Vi's legs and upward.

Vi finds herself more than a little surprised when her hand us moved, tucked down between the seat and the rider's sex. Her fingers curl though, responding to the unspoken request. She pressed against the leather, able to feel the heat trapped behind it. Her fingers stroke and curl slowly, grinding up against the speedster with ever increasing pressure and insistence. Her other hand soon lifts up from the woman's stomach, tugging the zipper of her suit down just a little bit so fingers can tease over her cleavage but not so far as to actually slip her hand inside.

Vidalia, for her part, is breathing heavily. Her hips roll still, grinding herself more firmy against the seat and Kate's backside. She hadn't intended to do this when she had come to the dock, but the combination of a beautiful mechanic and a big, throbbing, rumbling engine between her legs...and the speed are driving her.

Even worse, there's adrenaline and excitement at the prospect of doing something like this right now. Of course, there's no way to tell that to Kate.

There's no need to tell Kate. It's the strongest aphrodisiac she knows, one of the few aphrodisiacs she's comfortable indulging in. A sharp gasp is concealed by the noise of the engine as Vidalia cups her mound, finger trailing the neat line of hungry sex through the leather, nipples standing firm and eager in the tight constraint of her jumpsuit. She's slick already, heady with lust, her firm ass arching back against the slow, sure rhythm of Vi's hips, as the woman behind her strokes her leather-clad cunny against the seat like a bitch-cat in heat.

Distracted, she nearly misses a dead tree, forcing the bike into a sharp hairpin. It forces the soldier to squeeze her tighter, readjusting her grip, but only inspires Kate to twist the accelerator harder, sparse desert turning to an unfocused blur around them. No world left but the two women and the rumbling toy beneath them.

Vi can't feel the sickness but she can feel that heat as her fingers keep moving. Faster and more firmly as the speed picks up. They even dig in a little at the turn, but she soon loosens her grip enough to continue teasing her speedster. If her own sex is any indication, then they ought to stop soon and take care of distractions, but Vi finds that prospect unlikely.

Her hand soon tugs at the zipper again, pulling it down a little more so her hand can slip inside that tight leather. Her fingers cup Kate's breast, squeezing the soft flesh firmly, teasing against her nipple even as Vi leans up to nip at her earlobe and kiss her neck.

Heady and flush, she takes the bike back into the straightaway, zipper eased further down, tanned skin and the tantalizing swell of her cleavage exposed, her head turned to give Vi better access to her slender neck, arching her body against the swift, forceful actions of the soldier's fingers until the heat is too much for her.

The bike swifts sharply as Kate brings it to a sudden stop, and in one smooth motion, she swings her legs back around, chest pressed to that of the other woman, hot body's flush as she darts in hungrily for a kiss, eager, hungry, the engine still thrumming beneath them, but now at a slower, steadier rate. Cheeks burn red in the arid heat as she draws back briefly, apologetic. "I'm not normally like this."