Milly Carlyle short story

Some encounters stay with you for one reason or another. 

Sometimes multiple reasons. 

Every reason? Well, whatever.

I had been assigned as pict archivist to both celebrate planets working together and to provide motivational images for stationed troops. Ideally attached to their wall mounted schedules. We reasoned that more people would look at their calenders if we put something they wanted to look at on them.

The assignment was largely a disaster for me. For every fine chunk of man or statuesque military mama I laid eyes on there were a dozen false leads, pranks that threatened my life and chips upon chips of time wasting utterly worthless picts.

There was one such encounter that I think we linger with me. Perhaps above others.

I was seeking refuge. I forget why. Most likely I had spotted that one eyed savage that had nearly killed me and was having a panic attack at the sight of her.

I opened the first door I that wasn't locked and pressed myself against it, panting. I heard a song. Didn't sound military. Didn't sound like gothic. I looked around through the mists.  

Mists?

It's was a mixture of smoke and flame retardant gas. Not enough to be obnoxious, but I almost tripped on the woman kneeling in the middle of the room. She didn't seem to notice. Engrossed in her work. She would pause her singing - not quite a shanty not quite a lullaby - every so often to say a prayer in high gothic.

She was working with small screw drivers, pins, pliers as well as various powders. At one point she poured a few drops from a  conical flask into the housing of whatever she was building before sniffing the liquid, having a few mouthfuls herself and nodding approvingly.

She glanced up at me and nodded a hello.

"Eht's a bawmb."

I stood dumbly. I was overwhelmed by what I was witnessing and took a few moments to respond merely parroting her when I eventually remembered how my mouth worked.

"Aye. An' dornt gie yer bathrobe in a boorichie abit it. Aam naw buildin' somethin' new, haur. But thaur ur acceptable variables 'at can occur within a device sic' as thes. Aam jist makin' sure they definitely happen, ye kin?"

I nodded, lying.

She closed up the device, shaking it close to her ear as she stood up.

"See, look at thes."

She  pulled the pin and threw the grenade to the back corner of the room. She smiled at me broadly and gave me friendly wink that I could feel in my diaphragm some how.

The grenade hissed an anaemic pale red smoke and emitted a coughing sound. Seventeen seconds passed. I would have rolled my eyes if I still had them. Non mechanicus shouldn't be allowed near technology. My boss had always maintained this and in this instance I agreed.

I took a few steps towards dud grenade.

"I don't know what you were..." I began

Screaming something in a language I didn't recognise, she pulled me back and threw me to the floor pinning me under her as the explosion shook the room, the fire throwing her features into high contrast as she perched over me before the blast chamber's automatic extinguishers kicked in, adding another layer of mist to the room.

She stood me up. and dusted me off.

"Yeh see?" she said cheerfully, tapping a wrench against her head so hard that it really should have hurt but apparently didn't.

"The explawsion delay is th' perfect amoont ay time. special designed fur th' average amoont ay timea fairly intelligent humanoid opponent will bide afair bein' certain it's a dud an' 'en -WHAM!" 

She took another sip from the flask. Proud of her work.

"Yeah, thes is gonna work perfectly oan those blueberry basterds."

I was still trying to process any of this. I eventually managed to ask something that had been bothering me.

"Ma'am..."

"Milly. Dornt gimme thes 'mem' shaet. Ah wark fur a livin'."

"Okay. Milly. Why are you naked?"

She gave me a wry smile.

"Bet'er question. Wa arenae ye?"