SOTLL - Dance of the Load Lifter
Vernon stood silently, arms above his head and mouth hanging open in abject horror as he watched Ruby operate the yard's best loadlifter. The overhead claw had picked up the top cargo crate, but it was restricted by being a mobile overhead gurney system. Leaving little more than enough space for a finger to squeeze in between the cargo deck and the bottom of the hanging container.
She usually got her choice of lifters anyway, but it had been a malicious sort of glee to kick the assistant manager out of his favorite toy.
Her hands glided over the controls, the soft hiss of hydraulic shifts a sort of strange song for her as she concentrated on the task at hand with everything she had. Having shut off the visor of her helmet, she was operating sensor blind for this lift. Even Vernon had complained about her choice when he noticed the HUD system hadn't been visible to warn her of the distance between the crate she was holding and the one overhead.
After a brief but curse-filled exchange, she bet him a free lunch that it could be done without a scratch to anything. A grumbled acceptance of the bet had his eyes set on the whole scene like a hawk, waiting for her to trip up and hear the whine of metal grinding.
Not something she noticed while concentrating so intently, her hands on the controls of the lifter and feet operating the pedals as a strange feeling of removal from the seat slowly ebbed in. The more she focused, the more it felt as though the load lifter was more an extension of herself.
Her perception suddenly felt as though she was looking through the machine rather than her spot inside the heavy equipment.
The arms of the lifter mimicking the feel of her own arms bearing the load. The liquid smooth state of operation was not uncommon when she focused so sharply. With no explanation for it to make sense however, it unnerved her when the sensation was present. The cargo container slowly and readily slid into place. Like pressing a book carefully between two others until it met the backside of the shelf. The solid pressure against the palms of her hand reassured her that the container was in place.
And with a forceful reminder, she did not give it a further shove to make sure it was on square. She blinked and stared at the load lifter controls before the sensation faded from her limbs and felt in control of her body once more. She eyed her hand all the while, her perception slowly returning to normal instead of the awkward over the shoulder feel that had been present only a minute ago.
The wave of exhaustion that followed wasn't uncommon in these moments. The first time it happened nearly making her black out after taking a P-GLE for an expeditionary whirl on her first day in the yard. After about half an hour she had the whole crew watching her make the exoskeleton dance along with her practice tasks.
To everyone's surprise she had made the rig move with near gliding precision. A few even asked exactly how old she was and if she might give them some pointers in operating the suit. The whole rig was like moving a sluggish boat that could crush most anything in its way. For her though, it felt like donning a large set of clothes rather than an exoskeleton for heavy lifting.
The frequency of her focus making her attune to machinery was alarming though as she sat back with a huff and set her gaze on the yard manager.
Vernon stood there, examining the scene before him with a critical eye and glancing at her. Whistling and shaking his head, he held the overhead claw remote with a slowly relaxing white knuckled grip and gave an exhausted sigh.
"Guess I'll give you my credit chit then. And maybe a raise."
She usually got her choice of lifters anyway, but it had been a malicious sort of glee to kick the assistant manager out of his favorite toy.
Her hands glided over the controls, the soft hiss of hydraulic shifts a sort of strange song for her as she concentrated on the task at hand with everything she had. Having shut off the visor of her helmet, she was operating sensor blind for this lift. Even Vernon had complained about her choice when he noticed the HUD system hadn't been visible to warn her of the distance between the crate she was holding and the one overhead.
After a brief but curse-filled exchange, she bet him a free lunch that it could be done without a scratch to anything. A grumbled acceptance of the bet had his eyes set on the whole scene like a hawk, waiting for her to trip up and hear the whine of metal grinding.
Not something she noticed while concentrating so intently, her hands on the controls of the lifter and feet operating the pedals as a strange feeling of removal from the seat slowly ebbed in. The more she focused, the more it felt as though the load lifter was more an extension of herself.
Her perception suddenly felt as though she was looking through the machine rather than her spot inside the heavy equipment.
The arms of the lifter mimicking the feel of her own arms bearing the load. The liquid smooth state of operation was not uncommon when she focused so sharply. With no explanation for it to make sense however, it unnerved her when the sensation was present. The cargo container slowly and readily slid into place. Like pressing a book carefully between two others until it met the backside of the shelf. The solid pressure against the palms of her hand reassured her that the container was in place.
And with a forceful reminder, she did not give it a further shove to make sure it was on square. She blinked and stared at the load lifter controls before the sensation faded from her limbs and felt in control of her body once more. She eyed her hand all the while, her perception slowly returning to normal instead of the awkward over the shoulder feel that had been present only a minute ago.
The wave of exhaustion that followed wasn't uncommon in these moments. The first time it happened nearly making her black out after taking a P-GLE for an expeditionary whirl on her first day in the yard. After about half an hour she had the whole crew watching her make the exoskeleton dance along with her practice tasks.
To everyone's surprise she had made the rig move with near gliding precision. A few even asked exactly how old she was and if she might give them some pointers in operating the suit. The whole rig was like moving a sluggish boat that could crush most anything in its way. For her though, it felt like donning a large set of clothes rather than an exoskeleton for heavy lifting.
The frequency of her focus making her attune to machinery was alarming though as she sat back with a huff and set her gaze on the yard manager.
Vernon stood there, examining the scene before him with a critical eye and glancing at her. Whistling and shaking his head, he held the overhead claw remote with a slowly relaxing white knuckled grip and gave an exhausted sigh.
"Guess I'll give you my credit chit then. And maybe a raise."
