nytewing-fr-lore-blog

[nytewing-fr-lore-blog]

The Job Offer * Lore

“A doctorate in engineering?”

The old ridgeback sat stiff as a board in his office chair, his eyes narrow and calculative behind half-moon spectacles. He adjusted these, peering down his long nose and holding the paperwork out to examine it. He huffed an disinterested breath from his nostrils, which crackled with static and dissipated at the very tip of his snout. He had an analytical face and demeanor, such a thing was common among lightning drakes. Nevertheless this static aura never failed to make Benet nervous. 

With one finger he adjusted said glasses further down the bridge of his needle-nose, and he peered at the Spiral who stood upright with his hands rested behind his back in a rather professional stance. 

“Yes, Sir,” Benet confirmed. “And an associates in Arcane Studies.” 

“So I see,” the ridgeback huffed again, followed this time with a snapping click of his tongue. “And where were your studies had?” 

Benet quirked an eyebrow a moment, concerned perhaps that the papers were missing some of his information. His arms dropped from behind him, shoulders falling slightly forward. He stepped toward the large and threatening black desk, hand out stretched toward the papers. 

“Why it should say in the doc-,” 

“I know what the document says,” boomed the ridgeback, snatching the document from the desk and out of Benet’s reach. “I was asking you not the papers, Doctor Turbine.”

The spiral gawked for a moment, then forced his mouth shut with a clack of his teeth. 

“Yes, of course, Sir,” he began, once he’d overcome his loss of words. “I graduated with a doctorate in engineering from Lighting Farm’s educational program. After obtaining it I spent my inter-flight period in Starfall Isles, I attended hands on studies and lectures at the Observatory regularly. There I pursued an associates in Arcane studies. “

Another hum of consideration from the old ridge made Benet’s scales crawl. The fact that he had no idea why he had been called into the supervisor’s office to begin with had him on edge. 

“Yes,” the older drake said, pulling the papers up to look at them again, as though confirming what the engineer had said. “And your work history? It says you worked here in one of the lightning Farm’s workshop the past five years and aided in the building and repair of droids. How many?” 

“How many droids, sir?” Benet did not need to be told that it was a stupid question, he could tell from the way the ridgeback looked at him. He stammered for a moment before he found his verbal footing. “I built exactly nineteen droids under direct commission from the Stormcatcher himself. All of those droids were to progress production at the Spire. I also aided in the repair and refurbishing of at least two hundred labor droids.”

“At least,” the supervisor repeated the words as though it were a question, and perhaps it was. “You do not know an exact number?” 

“No, Sir...” Benet trailed, that nervous dread balling up in his lower belly. “There have been too many to keep count.”

Silence followed this, wordless stares from both parties, Benet feeling far too nervous and that ridgeback being far too cold. When the spiral swallowed his ears popped. He grit his teeth, the growing fear of being fired looming over him like the storm outside. 

“Congratulations, Doctor Turbine,” the old drake finally spoke, pulling a stamp from his desk and slamming it down onto another small pile of papers. With that he extended them toward Benet, urging him to take the documents. “You’ve just been approved for transfer to The Golem Plant?”

The spirals mouth hung open, his eyes shifting from the papers to the spectacles on that long schnoz. He shook his head again and blinked several times to steady himself. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” his voice was practically a squeak. “The Golem Plant?”

“The Golem Plant,” The ridgeback confirmed. “It’s a new branch that only a select few will be running, you’ve just been approved as Head of Engineering. More information will be given to you by the Plants supervisor when you arrive. Congratulations. Now get back to work.” 

Benet said no more than a quiet thank you before stumbling numbly from the room. Whatever he was feeling was a cocktail of lifted nerves and excitement. Once away from the office door he leaned against a cold metal wall and brought the papers to eye level to look at them. 

Head of Engineering. His own private living quarters, his own office. Oh what things he could create with endless supplies and materials. This was one adventure the spiral was more than excited to go on.