Fixer-upper [Lyanie & other gear heads]

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

(ooc: hope this is okay, decided to take events in this thread (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=20087) and run with them. Lemme know if this isn't acceptible)

The Imperial attack had been sudden and fierce, and through brief and hard fighting, the Jedi Convoy known as the Wheel had gotten away. Aboard Rogue 13, the Corellian light freighter Layla, Lieutenant Cirr Raurrssatta wiped beading sweat off his brow.

"MARRCUS, djiagnostjic!"

The droid module chimed in, running through a full systems check after the brief firefight.

"Systems report 88% functional. Deflector screens at 44%. There is minor ventral hull stress, and two main power couplings have been destroyed. Starboard laser cannon is overheated and will require a replacement crystal core."

Cirr's ears fluttered, sending a flick of sweat in the air as he closed his eyes.

"Shjit. Fjine. Betterr than jit could be."

Taking a moment to swig deeply from a water canteen he hung by a leather lanyard on a post, Cirr punched the vox comm with his fist.

"Sanjis, we've got a few djings. We clearr up top forr a grrocerry rrun to Valjiant?"

The vox came back from top deck. Bad news.

"Can't do, Cirr. Matter of fact, they're giving priority to Whaladon for repair work. They're recalling you over there to assist with repairs."

Cirr's mood darkened and he bared his pointed teeth.

"What the fuck? Don't they know we've got ourr own shjit to fjix herre? Thjis jis my shjip. Mjine!"

Sanis' voice came through as one of complete understanding.

"I know buddy, I know. Just get it over with. Sooner you get their screws tightened, sooner we get ours."

"Reg'ai'jassarree'fri shafaai'hee!"

Cirr cut the comm, threw a hydrospanner across the room, and kicked over an equipment crate in his tantrum. Nostrils flaring, he snatched his jacket up, slipping it on his shoulders as he exited the engine room.

"MARRCUS, jI'm leavjing. Tend to the mess!"

The big Cizerack stormed up to the launch deck, muttering Cizeri curses and leaving a bewildered group of droid modules behind to clean up after him.

"Really, is there a need for such an outburst?" the droid spoke aloud, to nobody.

[Lyanie Quez]

Well, that was something she didn't care to repeat too frequently.

While the Knightfall did indeed have its own weapons to bring to bear, Lyanie knew for a fact that the older model ship wasn't all that fit for duking it out with imperial assailants or most any attackers, for that matter. She still needed a lot of work done on her, Knightfall did, before her engineer would be confident enough to say that they could go anywhere near the depths of hell with her. As it was, the sudden flight instead of fight had jarred the engines something unkindly and it became apparent as soon as they had reverted from hyperspace.

Really, few things put a bee in her bonnet quite like this. It was that energy that she liked to direct into the repairs, but...

"But Chief... she's hurtin'." She really hated to feel like she was begging and she could see that there were other things that took priority. "They can't really expect me to just leave her at the drop of a hat..."

No, ain't a damn thing that takes priority over my girl. Not a Force-damned thing! Lyanie leaned against the bulkhead, her arms crossed tightly to her chest and just stared at the Chief. He shrugged sort of helplessly, voicing some apology that she no longer had ears to hear. She sighed, equally as defeated.

"Alright." Lyanie looked around the engine room, wincing at the sounds the entire assembly was making that just didn't sound right at all. That broke her heart. Another sigh. "Alright. You behave, Knighty. I'll be back to tend to your wounds as soon as I can manage. Whaladon's just higher on the triage list than you are."

She caught the odd look from Barton. Everyone always got puzzled at the close relationship she had with something so inanimate as a collection of nuts, bolts and deck plating. Lyanie just pushed past her Captain and headed off. She called back as she walked away. She sounded nearly flippant.

"I'm taking the shuttle! You all will just have to hang out or dock or somethin' somehow until I get back."

As if it was entirely their fault that this was happening.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

The trip on the Black Cat was short enough. On the Wheel, these sort of runs were measured in minutes. Cirr touched down without incident on the flight deck, but he could already tell that shit was fucked up. Grabbing his tool belt and satchel, he stormed down the gangplank before it had fully lowered.

"Fuckjing hell what kjind of grrabasstjic..."

His ears fluttered in a torrent of annoyance as he scowled, practically lifting a nearby techie off his feet as he yanked him over by the collar.

"You, gjive me a djiagnostjic rreporrt now. jI don't have all day, and jI need to know how bad we'rre fucked overr herre alrrjight?"

The techie, obviously not used to seeing a Cizerack in a perturbed frame of mind, put that task to the fast track, stumbling over himself to get Cirr a laundry list of maladies.

As Cirr waited, he saw a familiar shape approaching from outside the landing bay. The shuttle from the Knightfall. Suddenly, he started to appreciate how bad Whaladon was dinged.

Cirr waited by the shuttle's gangplank, ready to share piss and vinegar with Lyanie, because they were both thinking the same exact thing.

[Lyanie Quez]

It took everything not to impatiently tap her foot. She could imagine rolls of steam venting off the top of her head. Lyanie wasn't one to get too overtly angry and show it in a physical manner, but it showed plenty enough in her body language, tone and general demeanor. She stood there, waiting for the gangplank to lower, wondering if there was someway she could make it go faster. If not, maybe she would fix that particular problem later.

"Damned old parts and godsforsaken civilians." She muttered. This all had to be someone's fault. Somebody. Finally, the gangplank lowered completely and the sounds of its motion halted, Lyanie peeled her eyes away from inspecting a nondescript spot on the bulkhead of the shuttle and very nearly stomped down the gangplank, seeing Cirr awaiting her at the bottom. Well, at least there was something going right with all of this: she wasn't going to have to do most of the work herself. Not that she thought all the other techs and mechanically-inclined personnel were incompetent. Just that her list of people whose skills she had complete or near-complete faith in was very, very small.

"Well, Cirr. If we're both here, it's gotta be a damned mess." She stood at the bottom of the gangplank, arms crossed tightly, her eyes scanning over all that she could survey. Lyanie glanced sidelong at the Cizerack. "You seen Regan anywhere in this disaster? And just how bad is it? I wanna know how much time I'm sacrificing here away from my girl."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr shook his head.

"Wajitjing on the shjit ljist myself rrjight now."

He jerked a thumb at a huddle of junior techies that were no-doubt rounding out the last bit of line items on the fix-it list.

"No sjign of Rregan yet, but jif we'rre herre, jI've no doubt Rregan's herre too. jIt's ljike any decent scrrew-turrnerr got plucked forr double-tjime."

Cirr spun around in time for one of the techies to push a datapad into his paw. Cirr gruffly nodded, an unspoken request for the kid to piss off, which he promptly did. Cirr huddled around Lyanie, thumbing through the maintenance order. His ears spelled out his mood entirely.

"Damn jit. Thjis jis a good half day's worrk."

His claws reflexively extended and retracted in his fingertips as he read. He looked to Lyanie and shook his head.

"Well, jI've got a full kjit. You shorrt anythjing?"

[Griz O'Sullivan]

The flight deck was getting busier by the minute. The smaller ships which followed in the Whaladon's wake were, one by one, sending over whatever they could to provide assistance to the Wheel's primary cargo hauler. For those who had been aboard the cruiser from the beginning, it had been the most frantic day in memory.

For the group of techs making their way back onto the deck, it had been a baptism of fire. Literally. Their run-in with the Imperials had done a whole host of damage to the Whaladon, including setting off a series of explosions in the cruisers lower decks. The flames had been doused, though by the looks of things that techs had put out the fire with their faces – now caked in soot, sweat and in some cases blood.

A pair broke away, one to help the other deal with what was almost certainly a broken arm. Whilst the others dispersed, mindlessly falling into line with crews who were preparing to head out to the rest of the ship, Specialist Griz O'Sullivan took a moment to summarise the day.

“Fuck.”

Another tech slapped him on the back and nodded him off towards a pair who weren't in uniform. It was an unspoken order to quit gawking and start working. No rest for the deckgang. Griz wiped the forearm of his overalls against his eyes, revealing a smear of pink skin, and paced over to Cirr and Lyanie.

[Lyanie Quez]

"For frig sakes." She muttered at the mention of how long at least that this work was going to take. "That's ridiculous."

Not that she was adverse to work - just the fact that her baby had to wait. It just felt all sorts of wrong.

"Well, jI've got a full kjit. You shorrt anythjing?"

She thought about that a moment, furling her face in concentration. Another few moments and she shook her head. Her arms stayed firmly crossed through all of this.

"Just patience, Cirr." Her eyes focused on the approaching man and narrowed. Her mouth crowded to speak out the side, to Cirr. "Something greasy this way comes... maybe you should swat it with that maintenance order. It might go away, then."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Let's swat the bjig stuff fjirrst and they mjight grrow enough balls to handle the rrest and leave us alone?"

Cirr gave a sideways smile to his partner in crime and turned to face the grease jock that was heading them off.

"Fjirrst thjing on thjis shjit ljist jis the hull brreach. You got a patch on jit rrjight? Let's do a prroperr weld and get the gjimped bulkhead up to spec."

He was already moving, nearly pushing the human out of the way.

"Come on, let's go, we got a lot of majint worrk on thjis and you arren't the only shjip cooked herre."

He looked sidways to Lyanie.

"You got a plate cutterr? jI'll orrderr up some blanks, but we'll need to cut 'em to spec."

[Lyanie Quez]

"Oh, I could only hope. If I got more balls than this bunch..." She trailed off, rolling her eyes, passing wide around the grease-mottled specialist, not recalling his name or even taking the time to think if he had been here even half as long as Regan. Of course she had more balls. She was not looking forward to a half-day of overseeing, hand-holding and... Lyanie nodded in confirmation, an affirmative to Cirrsseeto's question, watching him out the corner of her eyes as they charged on ahead.

"Accourse. I've fixed my share of gaps in hulls. I mean, a patch's supposed to be a temp thing. Waste no time fixin' those, if ya can. Never know what's gonna sneak up on you, short notice." Her eyes flicked back to the site of the hull breach, to which they were fast approaching. Waste no time. She didn't talk much more for most of the distance to the breach site. "Shit, Cirr..."

She wasn't one for much overt swearing, but up close, the breach was a monster. The surprise of it was breathtaking and not in a good way.

"...that is one big hole." She stopped in her paces, shoulders slumping a little. "I hope nobody or not too many people got sucked out."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Not my place to thjink about jit rrjight now."

Cirr shook his head emphatically. He didn't want to waste any time on the morose. He wanted to keep pissed off and just get the work done in a hurry. Later, if there was any bad news, he could deal with that.

"You, hey! That jack, brrjing jit herre! And you, get yourr thumb out of yourr ass, grrab that rrepulsorrsled and move the sparre blanks!"

Realizing he'd spent a few seconds telling the techies how to do the job they should already be doing, he growled a little, claws instinctively pushing out of his fingertips only to slide back in.

"Alrrjight, let's get to measurrjing."

He tossed Lyanie two modules of a zip grid tool. They could magnetize each piece and slap it on the hull at each general corner of the breach, and it could spit out a quick surface area read, so they could figure how many blanks they had to cut and weld onto the superstructure.

[Lyanie Quez]

"Right." She nodded, breathing out. "No, you're right. Gotta focus."

Lyanie took a deep breath in and loosed it out her nose, putting on her game face and steeling her resolve. It appeared that all the years away from the Alliance stripped away some of her resistance, tolerance... whatever you called it that made you able to not attach emotions to the task and just get the job done.

Emotional detachment. Righty-o.

"Looks like..." and she stopped, seeing that Cirr was already taking control of the situation. She admired that for a moment or two, until he looked to her, addressed her again and snapped out of it, nodding not so much eagerly as impatiently. She wanted this over and done with as quickly as possible, too.

"Oh, thanks." She smiled feebly, taking the modules given to her. She turned her head to where the breach was temporarily patched and through some small effort of will, looked on it only with her professional eyes. She hummed, nodded and just spoke without looking away, considering the potential placement of the modules. "Cirr, you're taller and... okay. You go top, I'll go bottom, alright?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Got jit."

They changed the game plan around, and Cirr reached up high, sliding the sensors to the top of the patched damage, while Lyanie worked low on the opposite end. They flipped sides, and repeated. With just a brief tap, the grid connected itself in a flicker of blue energy, and Cirr looked to Lyanie, who was on the side with the reader.

"What's the squarre meterrage?"

By this time, the other techies were trundling along the way, pushing the heft sled load of durasteel blanks their way.

[Lyanie Quez]

"Um..." She stared at the reader for a moment or two, making sense of the numbers. Well, it wasn't that she couldn't read the numbers, just that the numbers without the fact that they were square metres, made the breach seem small, which was far from the truth. She looked across to Cirr.

"Twenty-one-point...." Lyanie looked at the readout again. "....four-six-zero-six-zero-two-two-four." She looked up from the reading again. "Twenty-six-point-five square metres, if you round it up."

She was somewhat impressed that the reading came out to an exact measure of that many decimal points. It hardly seemed necessary, but there it was. Her eyes strayed to the techies that were more or less under their combined thumbs. Cirr's, as a matter of fact, more than hers.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Hmm, at one-by-one meterr blanks."

Cirr looked at the patch, then air-counted, his index finger bouncing along in the air as he whispered the count under his breath for the illuminated grid.

"Well, a lot of damn weldjing anyway."

Not bothering to wait for the techies to grunt over it, Cirr pushed the repulsorsled a little bit closer to the bulkhead, then squared his body over the pile of blanks. With a grunt, he pulled back one of them, fitting his thick fingers under the gap he created, and using the leverage he rocked it back, so that the edge of the blank rested on the sled and the tall side leaned against his broad chest.

"Make surre those kjids stand back."

Grunting and baring his pointed teeth, the Cizerack hefted the heavy plate, waddled forward a few steps, then dropped it against the wall, pressing it roughly over the spot they'd need to begin to seal.

"All yourrs, Lyanjie."

He stood back, stretching his back a little as the Knightfall mechanic prepared to seal a proper weld. Remembering at the last moment his goggles, Cirr slinked them down from his forehead over his eyes.

[Lyanie Quez]

Lyanie, by habit, tended to store her goggles around her neck or perched atop her head during the day. Sometimes, like with a stylus or sleek penlight behind her ears, she forgot such things were on her person out of habitual comfort to its presence. Such things felt natural where they normally were and there had been plenty of occasions that she would search for one of these objects, fore to aft of the ship and not find them, only to have one of the other crew point out their location, rather matter of factly, on her person.

But this time, she remembered. She knew they were there. As per ingrained precaution, she'd slipped them comfortably over her eyes, gloves tugged from an ass pocket where they hung and slipped over her small hands and torch at the ready. When she was ready, Lyanie took to the task much like an Aquar to water. Her experience in welding, initially, had been built up in tasks such as aiding her father in repairing farming equipment and other things that had required it on the property. After that, it had been vehicles and further on, ships. Ships were her first love, when it came to inanimate objects that she laid her hands on. She took the time and care to assure a good, strong seal. Assuring a lack of weaknesses in a hull was incredibly important and she had experienced the results of a minor mistake enough times (read: twice) to be very mindful of this work. It was something, how a few layers of durasteel could mean the difference between living and not.

It wasn't too long before she was asking for another sheet. She didn't really need to ask. Cirr was as attentive as she was, for they both wanted to just get it done. Though, as they got higher up, it wasn't going to be easier.

"You need a break, Cirr?" She asked, after about the fourth plate.

[Sanis Prent]

please delete me

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr wiped a bit of perspiration from his forehead. The heat from both hauling heavy durasteel blanks and the adjacent welding torch was starting to build up.

"Let's take fjive. Want some waterr?"

The felinoid reached around back on his belt, snatching a 20 ounce flask from a spring clip. Jostling the water flask, he tossed it to Lyanie as he took a seat on the repulsor sled.

A few of the techies hovered around, and Cirr, perplexed as to why he and Lyanie were being appointed the ringleaders of this outfit, scowled.

"Well, how about you get to the wjirrjing? That coupljing overr therre got severred by the brreech."

Spitting a bit on the ground, he hunched over, his ears sagging forward at about the same pitch as his shoulders. He looked to Lyanie, and his spirits brightened a bit. He slapped a section of durasteel he was sitting on as an open invitation to park it next to him.

"About the only good thjing about thjis mess jis that jI get to spend jit jin good company."

[Lyanie Quez]

Lyanie pushed her goggles to perch atop her head and nodded, a yes in agreement and response. She caught the flask, nodding once and smiling thankfully as she unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. She couldn't chug; the cold of liquids set in quickly and to the point that she needed to have a break before she drank anything more, but the one long draw from the flask was enough, as she always tried drink enough to make sure she didn't get dehydrated at the most inconvenient of times.

The techies hovered for moments longer, switching their attention from Cirr to her. As if because she was female, she might be nicer or something.

"Well, what are y'all waiting for? We don't have all day." She wiped her mouth on her sleeve, looking nonplussed. "So scram."

One of them, probably the surliest of the bunch, decided to have a good stare at her. She just stared her meanest back and made a face, scrunching up her visage and sticking her tongue out. It seemed that one slice of childishness was enough to irritate the tech into walking away. He must have realized that it wasn't the time nor the place to argue the point. She began to wonder again where Regan had gotten off to, but figured that he was off taking initiative himself, somewhere where his skill was most sorely needed.

Lyanie looked back at Cirr, who was motioning for her to come take a seat. She did so, gladly, offering the flask back to him as she sat down, breath wooshing out of her in a deflated sound of instant relaxation. It was the low squatting of the bottom row that they were working on that had her legs happy to be in a temporary rest.

"About the only good thjing about thjis mess jis that jI get to spend jit jin good company."

Lyanie nodded, settling forearms on thighs and leaning forward. She turned her head to look at him, beside her. She could certainly agree with the sentiment.

"Yep. At least there's that." She smiled. "Could be worse. I could be stuck with Regan 'making moon-eyes' at me, as Ben so wonderfully likes to put it."

She looked away and laughed, sitting up.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Moon eyes?"

Cirr wasn't familiar with the expression, but there were so many different human settlements in the galaxy, and the slang might be regional.

His anger at his present situation was evaporating in the female mechanic's presence though. It telegraphed in his tail, which moved about with a little more momentum than normal.

"You know, we make a good team. Maybe afterr thjis, we can team up on both ourr shjips too. Do the worrk jin half the tjime?"

It only half made sense. Cirr wanted an excuse to spend more time in her company.

[Lyanie Quez]

"Um... googly eyes?" She turned her eyes to the Cizerack again and blushed. "It means he's staring 'cause he finds me attractive and he has a crush or something. Rather, had. Well, I mean, I haven't had the chance to see the kid since I joined back up in all of this, but the last time around, it was adorable."

She looked away again, eyes trailing over the mess of work, before returning her attention to Cirr.

"I mean, adorable for a kid." She laughed. "Oh, I'm rambling."

Lyanie idly played with one lens of her goggles and crossed her legs at the ankles.

"Yeah. That's a great idea, Cirr, divide and conquer and all that. And hey, that way, I'll get to see the inside of the Layla, too." She nodded, liking the idea. "Sounds like a good deal. I can hardly think to do anything else but work until the Knightfall is taken care of. Heck, I'm antsy just having to be here and knowing she's not up to par and having to wait. Still, good company takes the edge off, for sure."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr's tail wagging slowed at that, suddenly worried that he'd gone overboard. He just wasn't sure about how to approach a human girl. The downside to living in a broader galactic society beyond the Pride was that the whole issue of relations was harder. Here, you were supposed to take the initiative, but you couldn't be seen to be trying to take it, because that was too brash or something. The more Cirr thought about it, the more confused and despondent he got over the whole mess.

"Well hey, jI guess we should get back to jit."

He quickly blurted it out, nervous and wanting to get out of whatever situation might endanger him of casting moon eyes at Lyanie and having her put off by it.

His palms were sweating, and he bit on his lower lip.

[Lyanie Quez]

"Yep!" She jumped up from the sled and ran her hands down her jumpsuit legs, smoothing them out. Not that it mattered, but she felt oddly conscious of such little things for whatever reason. "The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can do what we want."

And that was odd too. The use of 'we'. She eyed Cirr as he wandered back to the breach, seeing something was probably bothering him and she didn't know what. Lyanie shrugged and jogged up to be there when the work started again. Once there, she slid the goggles over her eyes again, slipped on her gloves and brought the torch to bear.

"Alright, Cirr. Hit me." She watched his face, now looking for clues to see if she hadn't said another phrase he didn't get. The cultural barrier was starting to become a little bit apparent. And yet, she smiled at the challenge. She hoped she was catching on.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr huffed, slinging another blank into place, checking it against the other plates with his shoulder and then holding it flush while Lyanie went to work on the weld.

The rest of the work went on without incident. It took an hour, but the were able to put a proper seal on the breech, while the rest of the techies were able to route the power couplings around the damage. It would hold until they put in at Dac or another rebel stronghold and could fully yank the hull section and replace it wholesale.

Their work done, Cirr leaned against the wall, pulling the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his face.

"Alrrjight, grreat! That's one bjig task done on the ljist."

He pulled the work order, which was communicating in real time with the other current repairs being done. Smiling, he passed the pad onto Lyanie.

"Good news, looks ljike we'rre overr halfway. We'rre now down to trrackjing down a few dozen fjive mjinute rrepajirs."

[Lyanie Quez]

"Great!" She exclaimed, if a little loudly. That was sweet music for her ears, but not as sweet as the mere thought of the Knightfall purring along as it should. She slapped a hand over her mouth while the other tucked work gloves back in the pocket she kept them in, looking apologetically at Cirr in case the one word had indeed been a little too loud. Lifting her hand from her mouth, she smiled and accepted the pad, scrolling through, noting the signoffs on the completed jobs and seeing the ones that had yet to be tackled. Out of the ones that were left, a small group of them were suddenly flagged... claimed by another worker - Regan.

"Well, I think..." She scrolled back up again, searching for a job that had caught her eye. After passing through the list a couple times, she sighed, slightly frustrated and keyed the list to organize by tasks not completed first and found what she was looking for. She scuttled over to beside Cirr and pointed out the job and correlated other closer jobs to it. "The attack jarred the shield doors on the hanger bay entryway. The Rogues had a hell of a time getting it closed so they could park. They're operating questionably. I mean, I was able to park, so it opens fine, but again... it was stubborn about closing."

She wiped sweat from her brow with one hand, then wiped it on her trousers.

"I don't think it should be too much of a problem, like any sort of larger underlying electrical issue, but if there was such a thing, Tink probably took care of it already. So there's that and a lighting outage on the corridor leading out of the bay. Half of these are little wiring problems, confined to a that surrounding area. I'm willing to bet that a majority of the wiring around here could use replacing, but the whole ship would have to be gutted anyway and... well, not my problem, right?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr shook his head, agreeing with her about the little fish left in the barrel.

"Thjis one...looks ljike a bjit morre than just solderrjing a panel."

He looked at her for her thoughts. It was an outage of a secondary power router, only accessable through the maintenance tubes. It meant a bit of crawling on hands and knees and close quarters.

[Lyanie Quez]

Lyanie lowered the pad and passed a cryptic look at Cirr.

"Well, pardner. We're gonna hafta get down 'n' dirty." She effected her best backwater hick voice (oddly, reminiscent of some of the folks back home), a grin slowly spreading from one side of her face to the other and eliciting a laugh from her. "Or up and dirty. This whole place is dirty. Always dirty, can't escape it."

She beamed, pretending to tuck thumbs into suspenders.

"Dirty is my job!" The mechanic winked at her companion and reached out a hand to give him a hard whap on the shoulder. "Let's go roll in some dirt."

She walked off to the next job, pad tucked to her side, loaded belt swaying with her gait, humming a tune, pausing to look back and shout back.

"Come on, Cirr. We ain't got all day!"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Emboldened, Cirr hustled up to catch up with Lyanie, feeling great about their continued time together. He slapped a big arm around her shoulder.

"You know, jI'd almost want to post on a capjital shjip jif jit meant jI could worrk morre wjith you!"

Instantly his ears quirked. What did he just say? Did he just over-play himself. He flashed her a non-chalant smile, only to look away briefly and grimace in embarassment.

[Lyanie Quez]

Lyanie stopped her humming and grinned as Cirr caught up with her and dropped that big arm on her shoulders. In response, she changed hands with the pad and slipped her closest arm around where it would sit best for the difference in height. She almost felt as if she should be skipping arm-in-arm, whistling the tune of 'The Wizard of Hyperspace'. You know, 'Follow the Hydian way! Follow the Hydian way!'.

Anyway.

She nodded enthusiastically at his exclamation, doing her darndest to keep in step and keep up with his longer strides and succeeding to her great pleasure.

"Isn't that quite a thought! I love that idea." She said brightly, in agreement. "Which would be great, if I didn't already have a ship I love, too. That's why it's an almost, right?"

Lyanie smiled warmly, looking ahead.

"Admit it, Sanis would be lost with his head somewhere where he might lose it without you around, Cirr." She kinda believed that. "But still, I really like the thought. It's hard to say no to something you know would be good."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Yeah..."

Sanis had taught Cirr the ropes of getting in and around starships, but Cirr buried his nose in books and buried his arms in engines and grease for years. He was definitely a better mechanic and engineer than his human sidekick now.

The two mechanics entered a lift, taking them to a different section of the ship, and after a bit of map-reading, they reached their destination, which was a nondescript looking grate that led into a service duct. Cirr dropped to his haunches, backing out the screws that held the grate in place.

[Lyanie Quez]

"It'll be dirtier in there." Lyanie commented, as she stood waiting for Cirr to open the way into the duct. She didn't mind. She was just making conversation. After that, though, she stood there quietly as her Cizerack cohort pulled the grate off and set it aside.

"You wanna go first, or should I?" The female mechanic didn't have any confinement phobias or anything, so the question was almost moot, except for wondering if he had any preference. "I've no preference, either way."

She looked for somewhere on her person that she could tuck the pad, since she wanted her hands free for crawling around.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr peered inside, the darkness accentuating his semi-luminous blue eyes a little. He looked to see, for one, if the tunnel had enough clearance for him to fit. Not all ships were that considerate, which was frustrating. Fortunately, everything about the Whaladon seemed oversized, which was probably fitting for the name. Still, as Lyanie'd said, it was filthy.

"jI'll go on pojint. Mjight as well soak up the brrunt of the djirrt."

He looked back at her, cocking up an ear.

"jI'm alrready lookjing forrwarrd to the sonjic showerr."

[Lyanie Quez]

"Okay." Lyanie said, finally just stowing the pad away within her light jacket somewhere. It was a men's cut, that seemed to have a large enough inner pocket. She brightened at the thought of a blessedly hot sonic shower, scrubbing off all the dirt and grime and feeling so very clean and ready for anything again. A shower could change her entire demeanor for the better, if it wasn't there already.
<o></o>
"Me too. Really looking forward to it. Now or later, it doesn’t seem to matter, I always end up dirty or grease-marked enough that I look like I’ve put on war paint and gone crawling through the desert in search of my whirring, metallic foe.” She laughed at the image it presented in her head as she brought up a hand and gave Cirr a gentle yet playful shove to the shoulder. “Get going. We have showers to earn.”

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Maybe that's half of what got me jinto engjine guts. Spendjing half yourr ljife manjicurred, pedjicurred, and fussy spotless rreally makes you want to make a mess of jit."

Cirr crawled along, his night vision kicking in around the dim confines, occasionally matted out by the pen light his human tagalong was using to find her way. He thought about what she said about war paint, and the mental image caused his tail to wag a bit more than normal.

[Lyanie Quez]

Keeping her hands free for the crawling, Lyanie had the pen light wedged between her teeth and occasionally her lips wrapped around it and took over so that she could swallow and not end up with saliva leaking out from lack of mouth closure. There was something pretty unseemly and lacking in intelligence about looking like a drooling idiot. But crawling in the service ducts without being able to see was a thing she would rather not have to do. Getting lost in the service ducts was not an appealing thought.

And speaking on thought, rather the interruption of, she quite suddenly found her pen light flying out of her mouth, followed swiftly by the swishing of something switching back and forth across her face that caused her to stop and sit back on her feet as best she could, trying to reach for the penlight without getting smacked again and using her non-searching hand to combat her facial assailant.

"Cirr!" she sputtered, laughing amidst it, finally grabbing the strayed penlight and focusing it on her tunnel-leader, who had paused at the vehement mention of his name. "What has gotten into your tail? Or better yet - what's gotten into you that has your in a wag like that? I mean... I don't think 'Cirr's tail' is on my list of snacks."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

He was so glad she couldn't see his face, as he was about to bust out laughing.

"Se' indree a chashi'aa"

Slowly and willfully, he slunk his tail back closer to himself.

"Old sayjing. Tajil has a mjind of jits own!"

That he was letting his mind wander all around Lyanie would just be omitted from that explanation.

"jI thjink..."

Cirr paused, reading one of the service panels.

"Okay...next panel's the one. You go on ahead wjith the cutterr."

It was tight quarters, and she could get by him, but not without a bit of up-close wiggling.

[Lyanie Quez]

Lyanie looked past Cirr, penlight poised in her right hand, lighting on the approximate place where the next panel was supposed to be. She thought very little of having to squeeze past someone, as it wasn't the first time she'd been in a service duct with help and far be it for it to be the last. She loosed a ponytailer from her hair and tightened the loose loop she usually wore her hair in when working, then turned the pen light off and clipped it to the right breast pocket of the jacket she was wearing. After a few seconds of sitting in the dark and realizing that she could hardly see a thing, she sighed.

"I'm just going to have to do this blindly. Last time I had to squeeze past someone in a service duct, I nearly swallowed my light. Not fun." She laughed a little and glanced at where she approximated Cirr to be and realized she could see him, for the most part, since he was so close. Well, an outline... or maybe that was the spots you got in front of your eyes from light to sudden darkness. She found the wall to her left with her hand (the walls were close and it really wasn't difficult) and used it as a guide, slowly moving along. It wasn't until it came to actually passing Cirr that she realized going forward with squared shoulders on her hands and knees wasn't going to get her any further along. She'd underestimated something somewhere. Regardless, she pressed on by setting her back against the wall and advancing at what was a slower pace, then, knowing that this panel was all just one bit more of work closer to fixing her own ship that she'd put aside in favour of the capitol ship of the 'precious cargo'. And the progression worked well enough until she found herself having to squeeze through a space that was a bit smaller than she was with all the accoutrements of work... like her jacket and work belt.

"Um, Cirr... " She reached out a hand, trying to figure out approximately where she was in proximity to him and touched on the surface she encountered with a few repeats of her fingers before laying her hand flat. In the silence, she could feel and thought she heard the thrumming beat under her palm. She thought how weirdly neat it was to feel that in the kind of silence the tight quarters of the service ducts offered and attempted to wiggle further forward. It wasn't easy.

"...Cirr, a little help, please?" Okay, so she didn't expect to feel her breath back at her after she spoke. It was warm. It was odd, since breath typically didn't bounce off of things like that. A warm, kind of nice odd. She moved her hand and patted around again, trying to gain a sense of just where along the duct and Cirr she was.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Hang on, herre, let me see yourr ljight."

Cirr shimmied against his side of the corridor as he eased the pen light from her hands and inverted it, laying it so that it would spill light on both of them. His own night vision clouded into a corona of haze as his eyes took the few seconds they needed to adjust to the light. But even as he struggled to see her, he could hear her, feel her, smell her. She was close as ever, and as the white clouds at his eyes peeled back, her face was shaped out of the white, angellic of a sort despite the grease stain here and there.

Cirr tried to get his mind off of her all-consuming there-ness, but as his hands fumbled at her utility belt to help her forward, his chest began to rumble with a purr. He stopped for what seemed like an eternity, meeting her doe eyes.

"jIt's....uh....the belt...."

[Lyanie Quez]

"Oh... right..."

She stared right back, blinking in the light, lowering a hand carefully, slipping past everything to find the belt and touch it. She didn't move to do anything at that time, instead just hooking her thumb over and under the belt, between it and her trousers.

Lyanie was just now acutely aware of where she was, exactly where she was from a perspective of how close she was to Cirr and realizing that she had never been that close, not even by accident. Several thoughts occurred to her all at once and they only served to add a creeping warmth to her face and a rather funny feeling somewhere either in her chest, stomach, both or somewhere in-between.

"So, um..." She started, swallowing before laughing nervously and having notable difficulty looking away from what was right in front of her, on account of not really having anywhere else to look in the tight quarters and the fact that she just found she liked those eyes. Her hand found its way back up to where it had previously been, on his chest, which seemed a steady place to hold on to. She was going to say something, but it never ended up being said, because she couldn't seem to find the words and because of some crazy notion over which she would see later that there was no controlling, her lips had become otherwise occupied against his.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr was surprised and elated at once, blue eyes blinking in the faint light. He'd thought about...well...exactly this for days, if not the entire past week. Trouble was, taking the initiative was not in any way, shape, or form a strong suit of his, or any other Cizerack male, to his knowledge. Lips that were too stunned for action on the first kiss reciprocated on the second with careful enthusiasm as the arm he had around her middle stopped fidgeting with the belt and pressed gently against the small of her back. The thrum of his purr met the thrum of a starship in a complementary, all-encompassing sound. That combined sound, and the little pen light that caught them half bathed in light and shadow, were their only witnesses.

[Lyanie Quez]

She was going to kiss him again, but she stopped, mouth hovering a small gathering of centimetres from his own. She couldn't deny that she had thought about this, exactly this and much more than this for as long as he had. Lyanie felt one large hand down on her back, felt her own hand still against him, now gripped and curled into the fabric of his top and she was just there. Her mind wanted to fly apart in a thousand directions, it wanted to, but now, the now, it stalled that action. Save for, of course, one thought.

"For all the grumbling about having to be here, earlier...." She laughed low and delightfully at the feel of his rumbling purr against her, loosening her grip on his shirt and unconsciously smoothing it. "...we sure are taking our time."

Then, then she kissed him again.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr reciprocated at once, and they both joined into the moment fully, hands roaming as they did their best in the less-than-ideal environment. It was dark, dirty, and there wasn't a whole lot of room. Every so often some part of one of them or both of them would bang or clang against something followed by an 'Ow!' or an expletive, and then a fit of laughter. It was probably the most awkward and ungainly bout of making out that Cirr had ever worked himself into, but it had been years since he'd felt like he felt right now.

"We'll just tell them we had a bjiggerr fjixerr-upperr than we thought."

He smiled broadly as he cooked up the excuse, his cheek against hers as he whispered in her ear. They continued to toss and turn about in their close proximity.

Outside the maintenance tube, life aboard the Whaladon continued with nobody else the wiser. Techies continued to run about with little direction, taking care of little tasks they fumbled across.

[Lyanie Quez]

She giggled. Giggled at his words. Something that would have thrown her head back, if she were upright, not here in such close quarters that it would smack her head against the surface immediately behind her.

"Yeah. We'll just tell them that. But, maybe we should tell ourselves to get on with it and continue that fixer-upper before even that excuse becomes unbelievable to all the other techs." Lyanie smiled, wiggling her hands down to finally fumble with the belt, blindly. "Though, I'm not too certain I'd be all that concerned with anything they might have to say about it, anyway."

She lifted her gaze from Cirr then, doing her best to glance just ahead as she finally succeeded at undoing the belt and shimmying it from around herself.

"So, that panel, huh? Alright." She didn't look back down. Her words were a quick pace. "Help me wiggle up, Cirr? As good as this has been, here (and believe me, it has) there's work to do and... um..."

Blush crept up her face and she fought to not look at him, because it might break her resolve. Mentioning that there were far better places for what they had just been up to like she almost just said wouldn't help strengthen that willpower, either.

"...yeah, let's get it done."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr's lips parted Lyanie's still tasting the berries in the gum she'd been chewing, and the heady euphoria of their brief romp together. Suddenly, he wanted very badly to just be done with all this, and be...somewhere else, with her.

He winced as his tail thumped a bit hard against the deck plating.

"You'rre almost therre, hang on."

Both hands on her body, Cirr eased her up, his eyesight going fuzzy as he looked past her to where the pen light was set up. After being where they'd been, getting back to work was really damn tough...

...and monumentally so when you're work buddy's chest is pushed against your face as she wiggles by. For a moment, Cirr took a bit to reflect on the amazing and absurd situation he was in. It helped him from losing his mind about it.

Her chest passed further on, followed by the rest of her. His night vision somewhat restored, Cirr watched her midriff wiggle on by, her shirt hiked up slightly so that her lightly sweat-glistened navel was in front of him.

"Oh the vjiew frrom herre..."

He held her legs as she pushed onward.

"See the panel yet?"

[Lyanie Quez]

Between his assistance and her wiggling, she got there. As much as she'd enjoyed the closeness, the tight quarters, she had felt her arm beginning to warn that it would fall asleep under the weight of her own body and the want to just get the work over with and tend to her own vessel was still very much there. There was, of course, the want to look further into what had just occurred, but perhaps when both parties were a little less obligated, occupied and encased in a duct.

"Yep, I see it." She said, pulling her belt slowly up to where she could see what she was looking for in the vague glow the pen light was giving off down below by Cirr. "Hey, could you pass me the light?"

She stared at the belt for moments, then decided it was probably best to leave putting it back on until she could stand. Not that she was personally incapable of doing so, just that there wasn't any room for such a thing. She glanced again at the panel and found that she couldn't see the access for it, as her own body was blocking the light enough to make a good visual impossible for her straight-up-human eyes. She need assistance in the form of more direct light.

"I think this is one of those times and places I'm glad I'm not claustrophobic or something..." Lyanie said, reaching for the pen light as Cirr passed it up.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr averted his eyes as he passed the light. For one, he couldn't see the panel from his vantage. Two, what he could see would either be obfuscated by the light, or was the sort of thing he probably didn't need to see right now.

Still, he stole a couple of glances upwards, the purr rising in his throat a little as he talked, despite all efforts to suppress it.

"Couldn't get a thjing done wjithout bejing okay wjith tjight quarrterrs."

And speaking of tight quarters... Cirr looked down again, shaking his head.

"Okay, frrom up therre, how many porrts come off of that powerr shunt? Should be fourr orr sjix."

[Lyanie Quez]

Lyanie accessed it as soon as she could see what she was doing, pen light clenched between her teeth as she slipped the panel off, peering at the wires and hearing Cirr's question as she did. Holding the panel with one hand and removing the pen light from her mouth with the other, she counted them again.

"Uhm, six." She could hear his purr loud and clear and it was a sound that made supressing giggles difficult - impossible if it were rumbling up against her because that tickled. "Cirr..."

She couldn't help it. She had to laugh.

"...your purr tickles my ears."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Rrjight, uh..."

Cirr coughed voluntarily, the sound amplified a bit by the conduit they crawled in. Hopefully it would break things up a bit on the whole purring issue. He tried to think about things that would keep the purr at bay. It was difficult to say the least.

He closed his eyes again. Come on, stop acting like an idiot and do your job.

Breathing in and out, he opened his eyes, still not able to see anything in that direction.

"Okay, it's a Kuat-style rrelay. Half a meterr overr should be a bundle of powerr cables, but nothjing plugged jin. Gjive them a tug, the loose ends should come frree."

Cirr found keeping the mental image of what she should be seeing to be good practice, and it kept himself from being hopelessly distracted by Lyanie.

[Lyanie Quez]

"Right, okay." She replied.

His purr had toned down, not by a whole lot and though she certainly hadn't been complaining, it was a little easier to focus with a micron less of distraction. Lyanie reached in, more feeling for the bundle of cables than sighting them. She felt over other things that, after a light tug, were firmly attached to whatever plug or port they were in to, until after a minute, she came to one that was loose. That was her target.

"Alright, I got it, I think..." she held the pen light in her teeth, out the corner of her mouth and used both hands to guide the ends of the bundle out to where she could get a look at them.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"One of the cables should have an end that's djifferrent than the otherrs."

Cirr's ears cocked and he made a face, wishing he had something more to go on than just his memory.

"jI don't know exactly what jit'll look ljike, jit's just djifferrent. Plug that one jin, but carrefully. Watch to make surre the flow doesn't overrheat; got a meterr?"

Inwardly, Cirr hoped this fix was a simple in and out. It should be. From here, the whole grid should come back up green, and that would mean they could get the hell out of there.

[Lyanie Quez]

"Meter?" She thought, then fumbled through her belt, feeling for it. "Damn. No, it's back on the Knightfall. "

Lyanie's face furled in slight frustration; she never forgot things. She couldn't figure right at that moment why it might have happened, but later could chalk it up to frustration at having to leave her ship, her baby, to attend to someone else's. Right now, she'd just concentrate on the job, Cirr... the job. THE JOB! She fervently sorted through the wire ends, penlight poking out the corner of her mouth, until she found the one that was different. 'One of these things just doesn't belong. One of these things is just not like the others'. That one.

"Okay..." She drawled out. "...well, this'un's different."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"No meterr..."

Cirr averted his eyes to look back down at his feet, shifting his weight a bit so that he was resting on his belly. This wasn't a deal breaker, no...

"Check the couplerr, opposjite hatch. jIf jit's new, shouldn't matterr. jIt can take a spjike. Worrst we get arre some sparrks, and maybe have to rreplace the couplerr. jIt's a cojin toss, and we'rre herre anyway."

He paused, shaking his head. This was taking too much time.

"Just plug jit. jIf jit worrks, jit worrks. jIf not, we know the fjix. Send one of the techjies forr a damn couplerr."

[Lyanie Quez]

She was wondering where that damned meter of hers was. She was certain she'd checked her belt thoroughly, as she did daily and with cursory checks after each thing she did. After losing some instruments of her job before, she'd become diligent in this and yet... it bothered her. It wasn't on her belt, like it should be. That train of thought in the back of her mind, she did as Cirr instructed, checking the coupler and thankfully, finding it new.

She looked at the thing, the end that was different from the rest and gave it a go, plugging it with a trace of a grimace on her face and the slightest hesitation before she did. Not quite what she called living dangerously, but just the matter of fact that she really didn't want to be in this duct any longer. Didn't want these tasks to take any longer. Didn't...

She plugged it and quickly withdrew her hand, not realizing she was holding her breath. When nothing happened that would signal the 'worst', when it just seemed to work, she breathed out and laughed.

"Perfect as perfect can get." She glanced down at Cirr, taking the penlight into her hand to shine it down at him. And about to say something to the effect of 'let's blow this popsicle stand' when the light caught a dull glint off of something below their position in the horizontal duct. Well, behind, then. She angled the light for a closer look.

"Damn it." And there it was, that damned meter. "How'd that..." She shook her head. "That's what I get for lost sleep."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr's broad grin caught the pen light's illumination. Through the sweat and grime there was genuine relief.

"Well, sometjimes all you need jis yourr jintujitjion jI guess."

A big sigh, and his slightly-glowing blue eyes blinked. He reached up, holding Lyanie's ankles, and gave her a gentle pull to bring her back to his section of the maintenance tube, so they were face-to-face, and body-to-body again. Now, there wasn't any work to distract them from that very real moment they'd shared.

"Lyanjie..."

The purr threatened to rise in his throat again, and Cirr paused.

"jI...uh...you..."

Did he dream what just happened? Was it a hallucination and he'd just come back to work? He wanted to believe.

[Lyanie Quez]

Lyanie let out a soft form of a very feminine 'EEP!' as she was pulled back down from whence she came. It was definitely unexpected, but it wasn't a harsh tug and all things considered, she didn't mind at all the person doing the pulling. She laughed a little in the process of being drawn downward and was smiling significantly when she was once again face to face with Cirr, who was now a bit nervous (not that he hadn't been previously) and tripping on his words a bit.

"Cirr...?"

She studied his face as best she could, being so close again, the smile remaining on hers, lightly, but her brow furrowing, ever so slightly. It would be so easy, being here, but she wanted for a setting that was a little less restrictive in movement. Service ducts were awkward and she herself could be a little awkward as it was, coming to things like this.

"...is there something...?" Her eyes lit with some sort of knowing, then, as she snuck one of her hands, much smaller in comparison to his, up to his face, softly stroking there. "Can we... can we get out of here? There isn't..."

A little blush crept on her face and she swallowed. "...there really isn't a lot of space in here. And there's still more work to do and..."

Her eyes darted away from his, looking at nothing in particular now. She laughed nervously and looked back at him, edging her face in as close as she could get.

"...it would just be so easy to stay here, you know, despite that."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

What were they going to do, have a full-fledged go of it in a service duct? The thought of it elicited a small huff of laughter, even as she lay next to him.

"Rrjight now, jI don't carre about worrk. jIt can wajit."

Her face was close, and her hand caressed his cheek. He brought his own free hand up along her back, fingers resting at the nape of her neck. His purr returned to betray himself again, and he could smell her likewise betraying herself.

"jI want you. jI haven't been cerrtajin about somethjing ljike thjis jin a long tjime. jI am not good at sayjing these thjings."

He shook his head.

"And jI'm surre jI'm talkjing too damn much."

With renewed enthusiasm, he kissed her, this time no shock, no surprise. Both eyes were open, and he was not going to miss the moment. After a few seconds, this too parted, and Cirr nodded.

"Alrrjight, serrvjice duct, let's get out of herre."

Cirr carefully reached up, finding purchase on the framework of the duct, and used it to push his frame past Lyanie, and back the way they'd came.

[Lyanie Quez]

Want? Talking too much? I would rather... well, the work should be done soon enough. Hopefully.

Going back out the way they'd come, Lyanie retrieved the meter which had inconveniently decided to venture out on its own. Only a short ways after that was the exit, tailing Cirr the whole way... and speaking of tails, trying not to find his in her face, quite decidedly keeping her mouth shut and breathing entirely through her nose, so that 'in her face' did not become so literal. A small giggle bubbled behind her closed lips as they crawled along, finding the exit in short order and slipping carefully out, the first order of business being to stretch the cramped feeling right out of her body.

"It feels so good to be out of such a small space." She said, with long syllables accompanying each long reach, each stretching of muscle. "Ah, that feels so much better."

She checked over her belt, making sure not a single thing was left behind. She thought she was on top of things before, but it was amazing how one little thing like a dropped meter, especially in front of someone who was more than just a passing acquaintance, made you want to be absolutely sure.

"I wouldn't be surprised if I could recognize you on scent alone now, Cirr." she said, shifting a sidelong glance at him, smiling ruefully, before remembering herself and blushing, looking away and taking a deep breath in and out.

"So, what's next, then?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr took her by the hand and pulled her along, not forcefully but with a willful intent on exactly where to go. Part of him thought that he could use a shower, but that risked washing away the moment they'd just had. There was a saying, strike while the iron's hot.

He paused by a door marked SUPPLY CLOSET, and with a conspiratorial grin, he punched the access code to open it. A dull light came on, to where he could see how much space it afforded.

Enough.

With that settled, he stepped inside, and pulled her along with him.

[Lyanie Quez]

There was beating around the bush, then there was beating around the frackin' bush... and this had been a long time coming, if anyone with any eyes, ears and a pulse had the pointed discernment to notice that clearly something was going on or had been wanting to go on between the Cizerack and the brill young engineer and farmer's daughter from Dantooine. In fact, you'd have to not have a pulse and be dumb as duracrete to not have noticed something.

wantwantwant

Behind closed doors, those were not at all the thoughts in mind. One couldn't be all that certain if there was much thought at all going on in there and certainly not as much thought as action, desire and need.

wantwantwant

It was a long time comin' and... uh, pun possibly intended.

Dirty little secret? Well, something's dirty, at least.