Work Text:
When Sparky pulls their ragged scavenging boat into port, they’re not alone. A small collection of Park Planet enforcers stand at their regular docking post, waiting for them.
Frankie doesn’t see any weapons on their persons, but she knows better than to assume that they’re not unarmed. Andi’s told her about the technology the senior engineers built for them. From her position, manning the crane at the forward of the ship, she can see it all. A strong wind blows, knocking strands of her bangs askew out from under her hat.
If she’s being honest, the Park enforcers freak her out. Beneath those blue-light masks, they don’t even look human. And she likes robots, normally! But these ones- Frankie gets the feeling that they’re not meant to do anything beyond harassing those who aren’t already up in the sky with the Parks.
One of them, in the center, holds out its horrible, metal hand. Frankie looks at Sparky, sitting at the wheel- what is she supposed to do?! She’s been working this job a while now, but nothing feels like enough time to know how to deal with something like this.
Frankie doesn’t register Sparky at the helm of the ship until he’s pushing past her, hopping over the side to talk to the enforcers. She can’t hear what they say to her boss, but he glances over his shoulder immediately, glaring back at her. His dead eye stares blankly, a fiery accusation at his first mate.
“They’re saying they heard about a piece of Park equipment we’re harboring.” He gestures wildly at this, indicating that the enforcers must be crazy to think such a thing.
But they’re not. Frankie knows they’re not, because there was something.
“Now, Franklin. Or they’ll come back with proper arrest warrants.” Shit.
Frankie anchors the ship as fast as she can, dashing around a corner to the warehouse Sparky keeps the parts for selling in. She knows exactly what they’re looking for-a rogue bit of ticketing technology that fell down from a smaller Park component last week.
God, she was so excited to find it in the haul that day that she even brought it home to show Andi. They had pried it apart in hopes of finding a chip. There wasn’t one. Frankie didn’t tell Andi that she wanted one to hack into the Park’s database and records. In her heart of hearts, she knows she’ll get in there one day, one way or another.
But it doesn’t matter now. The lead Park enforcer snatches the parts from her, gauntlet crushing the wires. It won’t even be usable now, but it was never about use. It’s about intellectual property, and control. There goes her portion of next month’s rent.
The enforcers leave as suddenly as they had arrived, turning metallic tail to scoff at the lingering crowd of scavengers who had observed the showdown.
Frankie looks down at her utility boots. “Look, Sparky, I’m sorry-”
Her boss takes the pipe out of his mouth slowly, pointing it at her accusatorily. “You find shit like that, you come to me first. Not your friends.” Sparky stabs at something in the distance, up above. His pipe glows blue from its port in the dim warehouse light.
Frankie scowls. “Look, I don’t know what you heard, but Andi wouldn’t rat us out like that.”
“Franklin, I don’t care. You get to a certain level, all those damn crownies are the same. Freaks.” His breath is hot, laced with must. He’s high, Frankie’s sure about that. He’s also damn stupid if he thinks that he can get away with talking about her best friend like that.
So she hits him. Just once, a good slug in the shoulder, to get him to back off. It doesn’t work.
Sparky grabs her by the strap on her work overalls. “Listen-” he hisses, getting up in her face, “if you think you’re free from consequences…”
Frankie shoves him again, but he doesn’t let go. Her boss gets in close, pushing her against one of the warehouse walls.
She holds her palms up in surrender. “Look, I’ll make it up to you. I promise-”
It’s hard to place exactly what happens next. His arm is across her field of vision, then his hand, and Frankie doesn’t know why she’s doing this, but she lunges for Sparky in a sudden burst of rebellion.
She bites down hard, her teeth connecting with his flesh and maybe even his blood, but her boss doesn’t back off. His eye hardens: angry, and determined. Sparky reaches for something in his pockets, out of sight.
Frankie goes cold when she sees a pair of metal pliers in her boss’ grip. They look like something for working on a machine, not for using on a person: least of all, an employee. She protests, struggling one more time.
He isn’t sympathetic to her plight. “Can’t have you biting customers.” Sparky wields the pliers like a weapon. “This is what happens when you go behind my back.”
It hurts. It hurts when the iron grip of the pliers find Frankie’s canine tooth, and it hurts when the tooth is wrenched from the gums, spots dancing in her vision. Then she’s on the ground, and something is bleeding . Frankie feels for the damage with her tongue, and something’s missing. Her fucking tooth is missing.
The pain is enough to, to…
-
When Frankie comes to, she’s lying on her side in the break room. Her mouth hurts like hell, and everything tastes like blood, but she’s alive. She sits up, feeling groggy as all hell.
Sparky stands with his back to her, making note of new inventory along the shelves.
A pang of sadness finds Frankie, there on the floor. She knows better than to blindly trust anyone, but she thought Sparky was different. He seemed proud of her, once.
Eventually, the older man realizes his protege has sat up, blankly staring at him. Sparky waves a roll of dull grey gauze in her direction. “For the bleeding.”
Frankie takes it when he tosses it to her, because she’d be insane not to. Andi would call her crazy… Andi…
Andi would think she’s crazy either way for acting like this.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Frank.” Sparky’s words come out of nowhere, said to the walls instead of his newest employee.
Frankie slumps. He might very well be telling the truth, because she’s a damn good operator and an even better scavenger. But he hurt her. He ripped out her tooth, and yet Frankie knows damn well that she’ll be going in to work tomorrow regardless, a smile on her face.
“I’m sorry about the enforcers,” Frankie hears herself say, face downcast towards the grimy floor.
Sparky kneels, and ruffles her hair. “Attagirl.”