Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Green and Black and Blue

"Yeah?" In chuckled sheepishly, pausing to consider the health of a small flowering bush in the hallway. Lifting the leaves, looking for mildew, checking the soil saturation. She had a small readout on the pot it was in, but it was always better to verify for yourself. Besides, involving your fingers with a plant was healthy. "I've never really thought of myself as a creative sort. I did a bit of theatre for a bit way back when for a year, but it was mostly just following stage directions and backup dancing. Burlesque with a script. Never really been big into art or stuff like that."

Crouched by the small yellow flowers, In stood and resumed the tour. Close to the 'medbay' was the cargo hold, which was currently empty save for an old speederbike under a tarp and a single shipping container full of parts for the ship itself. The cargo hold was the bulk of the Medium Freighter's total mass, which meant that there was likely enough room for a compact game of soccer with it essentially empty, so long as you moved the tie-down straps out of the way and didn't mind the eyehooks on the floor. There were no plants here, though crystal-blue vines with bright red fluid in them did creep out around the door to what was clearly a walk-in freezer towards the back.

"That's the chilly garden. Can't go in without protection - some of the plants are from blackbody systems, so they have UV light trays that'll mess you up if you lift the shielding. The whole box is kept around or below freezing, some of the corners are colder than that." In explained. "I've got those sectioned off. Feel free to check it out, just be careful. Nothing in there is dangerous unless you eat it, it's the environment that'll hurt you." She gave an apron, goggles, and gloves by the freezer door a pat to demonstrate.

"For the record, I don't keep ANY dangerous plants. None of those Felucian ones with the acid barbs or carnivorous pitcher plants that eat anything bigger than a mouse." In added. "I like to touch my things, and I didn't want to have to filter overmuch what I could and couldn't brush up against at home. It also makes for less drama with customs agents and inspection goons. Apparently a lot of assassins like to grow their own organic poisons or whatever so they're harder to track? That's what some inspector told me, anyway. Probably nonsense."
 
Sith gardeners liked dangerous plants. If gardening couldn't kill you, it wasn't good enough for Korriban botanists. Fortunately, the majority of the galaxy didn't seem to work that way. Lots of plants were very dangerous, but most of them weren't ambulatory or carnivorous. Niysha hadn't had to worry about being devoured by a shrubbery since she was... probably fifteen. It occurred to her once again that she really did need to decide how old she was. It wasn't important to anything right now, but it was only a matter of time before she had to sign some paperwork somewhere again, and she couldn't keep making up numbers.

The Miraluka nodded at but kept a respectful distance from the cold garden. The room was pretty well insulated; even just a meter or two away, it was barely any chillier than the rest of the ship. "I suspect a lot of it is more about controlling your own product. Making sure your substances have the exact effect you want them to is more reliable - if not 'easiser' - when you cut out the middle man."

She played with her hair a bit and fixed her blindfold, adjusting it to rest a little more gently across her eye sockets. "It's similar with most work, I'd assume. I prefer to get my artifacts directly from the source, rather than engaging in any bartering or marketeering."
 
"I can appreciate wanting to do it yourself to keep costs and nonsense to a minimum." In agreed readily, leading Niysha up and out of the cargo bay via a catwalk. "I had a couple of helpers once upon a time. Between management stress and cash flow issues, I decided it was better to go it alone. I've gotten better at the game and money is a little better, but I haven't revisited the idea." She explained, before chuckling sheepishly.

"Admittedly, that decision was made as much because of business concerns as it was my ex lighting the ship on fire to let me know he was quitting and wanted a divorce." In added, taking the tour back through the relatively simple loop of galley-cargo-quarters-galley. The Dancer was a fairly simple hauler, after all, and the loop only deviated for the cockpit and guns - which weren't horribly relevant to Niysha, In figured.

"There's four rooms. You've got the second best one by my reckoning but if you decide you like one of the other ones more - help yourself, unless it's mine. I keep 'em clean in case I get a shuttle job." In added, tapping on one of the solid doors. "There's a panic compartment under the pilot's seat and galley sink. It leads to a tiny hold under the galley. It's well shielded and hard to find, so I'll show you how to access them later." Panic room. Right. Anyone with more than four hyperjumps under their belt knew what those compartments were for.

In paused near the cockpit, hip against the bulkhead and arms folded. "That's the tour. I'll pause the procession now for questions, commentary, and feedback."
 
There were messy breakups and there were conflicts that could only be meaningfully resolve via arson, but Niysha hadn't heard of both ever occurring at once. She was keenly aware of the small blessing that was her chronic maidenlessness. No partners, no problems. Loneliness as a solution, both marital and economic!

Niysha'd been on enough fringe freighters to know what a "panic room" was for. Especially one that was shielded and seemed to have a shocking lack of stated amenities. She didn't feel the need to pry or wiggle her eyebrows knowingly, and instead simply nodded. It didn't take her more than a few seconds to formulate an appropriate response. "You've had a crew of one for some time now, but you do have access to a second pair of hands now."

She leaned her shoulder against a different bulkhead, arms folded to match. "Will I have any particular duties while I'm on this ship? As we're putting off the negotiation of my fare until we figure out how much this collection is going to pay out, I assume I'll be earning my keep." Inoffensive. Niysha had worked on plenty of ships. She wasn't the best deckhand in the galaxy, but she knew a coolant pipe from a power cable, and which switches turned the engine off from the cockpit. Also, the power of engine tape. The raw, formidable, elemental power of engine tape.

Left to her own devices, Niysha would probably just pet plants and meditate a lot. Maybe strike up some light conversation. Idle hands were useless waste, and she could hardly practice anything too visibly obvious on this ship, with a stranger who was only tangentally aware of the Force.
 
In pondered her response for a moment, brow furrowed, looking a little awkward and exasperated. Her arms remained folded. "I mean as far as I'm concerned, your full-time job is making sure that thing doesn't leak out onto my ship and try to kill us." She confessed quietly, as though there were another soul around for parsecs who might overhear. "That's my biggest concern. Goes for the rest of your collection, if any of it can do anything like that."

In pushed herself off of the bulkhead and sighed, tossing her well-tended hair over her shoulder. "You're not paying for passage, but you're KIND of paying for passage in an advance-slash-line of credit way. We're in business together. I don't expect you to change filters or scrub the hold like I would some kid bumming a ride. But... I get wanting to keep your hands busy. And I don't mind accepting help."

"On my list for this trip, I need to do something about the sputtering sublight engine. I'm not sure why it starts hitching whenever I cross over a shield threshold in atmo, but it has complicated docking like three times now and it's getting worse." In explained, directing a mild frown towards the large thrusters on the back of the ship. "Probably due to electronic interference. Something is being oversensitive. Figuring it out means I don't have to pay someone when we make port."

"Second problem I've got one of the port guns pulling left. Like, the pit swivels whenever somebody's sitting in it. Slowly. Constantly." In added, nodding her head down the hallway behind Niysha. "I have no idea why. The bearings look fine and the motor is basically new. I don't use the guns very often, but still; If you can figure it out, I'd appreciate it."

"Small chores today - watering every tray with an E9 plant in it, which is to say the ones with a green-orange label. If that means anything to you. Trimming the herbs. Rotating the ones in the drying chamber, grinding 'em up. I should probably do that part. I usually take a bit of time on Primeday to mend clothes and look for little sewing issues around the ship."

"I wanna stress again that you don't HAVE to help out. You're not crew until you want to be, and in that case I need to pay you." In emphasized, sounding a little embarrassed at all she had lined up for the day after sleeping in. Admittedly, she'd only been sleeping in because she'd gotten the tar beaten out of her by metal monsters, and she still was in fairly rough shape. "Can I frame it as an incentive instead of a duty? For my own joy?" The Pantoran asked hopefully. "Like, I'll bust out the ground shaak and wow you with my trusty burrito recipe for helping out?"
 
Mostly mechanical fixes. Not Niysha's specialty, but what she lacked in technical know-how, she made up for in... unique insight. If she'd been paying more attention to her lessons with Lord Adekos, she'd know mechu-deru instead of just being able to identify it, which would've let her will the ship repaired. That was probably a good thing, then. If she had that ability, she would've been tempted to show it off, and it was clear that this specific vessel was emotionally important for In. Emotional things had a habit of breaking when exposed to Sith sorcery.

Green-orange. "I'm afraid that means nothing at all to me. My sight doesn't come with color." She offered a smile as awkward and exasperated as In's expression. "It you were to consider anything a disability, it'd be that." But, of course, she could see things that In could never imagine. It was far more than an equal trade.

"I'd love to taste your cooking, though," Niysha confirmed. "So I think I'd better start earning that 'incentive.' Join me in the sublight? I'll need you to replicate the problem." Energy was easy. Very easy. Otherwise droids would be as bad as Vong, and the holonet as useless as books. The frizzy Miraluka was more than a little exicted to have a chance to do something, especially now that her fatigue had caught up with her and her everything hurt agian.
 
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"I'll get some bump-stickers on them first chance I get." In promised without hesitating. Assuming that Niysha would stay on that long seemed to come naturally to In, though in her mind it was as much about accommodating her color-blind friend as it was making sure she wasn't caught off guard by the next color/blind person she brought on board. She hated to think that somebody might enjoy her collection a little less because she'd failed to anticipate their needs. Especially a friend and apparently aspiring crewmate.

Like every Besaid-class freighter, the Dancer had four large engines on the back. The higher two were the shiftdrive, the lower were a pair of stock Garuda Variable Ion drives capable of rotating as needed for deceleration or to assist with hovering. They were also capable of turning virtually anything into thrust, given it could fit into the maw of the molecular furnace. Both had clearly seen sunnier days.

Replicating the way the engines staggered was a little tricky outside of the environment they usually did so - on approach and leaving starports, or when caught in a tractor beam. "It's predictable, but I can't figure out why it happens." In explained, squeezed into the cramped engine compartment. The heat was clearly doing her no favors, the few minutes she'd spent showing Niysha around the Garuda engine had her nearly drenched in sweat. "It's like it's allergic to shield fields or something. Just half-reboots the control mechanism whenever it passes a threshold. If that makes sense?" In explained.
 
This was a pretty warm room. Niysha wasn't exactly as cold-natured as In was, but this was still a pretty warm room. This probably wasn't a place that In came very regularly, unless it needed fixing. That might've been part of what was contributing to the engines' various general decline...s? Declines? The engines' collective decline and this one's specific decline. Scatterbrained. She needed to focus.

From the outside, Niysha could see every part of the machine she'd need to. The chassis was, of course, bleak and cold metal, but it wasn't difficult to concentrate a bit and pierce through it to the myriad of functions beneath. Most of those were also bleak and cold metal. Fortunately, the parts that were clearly visible and easy to follow were the parts that she needed to examine. Energy moved quickly and smoothly, naturally flowing into easily contained streams inside any machine. When the constraints that held that energy broke, it was a gorgeous gradient, each spark a different shade as it spun off into nothingness. When it functioned, it was white-hot and extremely simple to trace basic lines.

After a minute or two, Niysha noticed she was being quiet. "It makes as much sense as anything else in an engine would," she unhelpfully responded. "To be clear, I don't know much about how to fix engines, but I should be able to clearly identify the problem. Power lines are very clearly visible to me."
 
It took In about half a second to reach a conclusion on the matter. She was cramped in the compact engine room, starting to get self-concious about how sweaty the heat was making her, and she had less than an idea on how to fix this engine. In fact, she mostly knew ways that wouldn't fix the engines, because she'd been struggling to address the stagger for weeks. Months, even. In only wished she'd recorded all the things she'd already tried so she could hand that over, though it occurred to her that a Miraluka might not be able to read her notes.

"Tell you what, Frizz." In chuckled, clasping her hand on Niysha's shoulder. "You do your best, and if you need anything give a yell over the PA. I'm getting out of this room before I pass out. Every tool I own is in the shipping container in the cargo bay." The Pantoran then shimmied her way around her newest associate, climbing down the ladder that led up into the engine compartment. "I'm gonna go see if I can spot any fluctuations happening in the comp system while I pulse the shield array to make it stagger. I'm a better slicer than I am an an engine tech, though I'm not a GREAT slicer."

Really, she couldn't get away from the engine fast enough. Even if the heat and the six or so full shifts she'd spent trying fruitlessly to fix it weren't enough to make her hate being there on principle, the fact that the Garuda Variables would eat her tools, hand, and anything else that fell into the molecular furnace to turn into energy had always unnerved her a little.
 
That definitely settled that. The majority of the reason this room was doing so poorly was because of a lack of attention, because the entire room was dangerous to the single crew member on the ship. Niysha offered a nod of response as In tucked out of the room. "I'll do what I can. Catch me over the comm system if you have any input." Short, sweet, to the point. Almost dispassionate. Not at all like she was when she was discussing old horrible rocks full of ghosts.

When In left, Niysha leaned her bum against one of the engine room's guard rails and brought out her datapad. Not unlike an engine or the ship's wiring, she could read holographic displays by the sheer density of their electric signals. Her own datapad was a special order Miraluka version that had even more distinct signals to reduce strain and offer a clearer display, but most worked just fine. Just blurrier, and a bit more of a pain to read.

Hmm. Aurora Industries ion drive... based on the Crest drive... any malfunction in the molecular converter could... oh, that wasn't good. Niysha brought up a few more schematics and checked a few more DIY message nodes. Identifying the problem with the ability to see energy should've been easier than it was...

Instead, she didn't even notice when she'd been down in the room for more than half an hour.
 
Diagnostic tests were, as In feared, fruitless. While she had a wide base of knowledge as a matter of necessity, she wasn't a specialist in much besides gardening and the skills immediately relevant to owning and operating a big freighter. When she yet again failed to figure out what was going on with the engine stutter and started getting frustrated, she pivoted to something else. While she COULD try and fix the gunnery seat, the idea of failing to fix two things in a row was unconscionable. Her pride required a balm, a frontier where she could achieve success.

As Niysha sat in the engine compartment and read, In tended to her plants. Some needed water, some required pruning, trimming, or shifting to allow healthy light to hit a neglected side. All of them needed her eyes and hands at least a little, some needed more attention, all of it felt better than beating her head against the impossible engine, the growing realization that she didn't have the skills to fix it and didn't have the money to replace them. And what were the odds that she would stumble across another Besaid-class with working engines to salvage? Fairly fucking miniscule.

Humming to herself to try and drive away the anxieties, In saw to her garden with zeal and enthusiasm. Maybe she could sell a kidney? That might get her a down payment on some new engines, if not a tech to install them. Her kidneys were in decent shape, right?
 
Engine reactor shielded against radiation. Flux line 18-besh, based on the position of the clock when opening the casing up from the rear. Niysha processed information as best she could. It was a lot of terms that she didn't really understand and mechanics she sort of grasped, but the important part was the step-by-step instructions to identify the problem. Running a test cycle twice had shown her the exact break, so all that was left was to fix it.

When she checked a third time to confirm, Niysha was finally ready to call it in. She stood and walked to one wall of the engine room, tapping the comm button. "I think I've found it. Do you have a place you store spare cables and wires, and if so, how is it organized?"

It was a physical break which meant it needed to be replaced and couldn't be fixed. Fortunately it wasn't in the process of melting down yet. The scoring on the inside of the engine casing was so light that human eyes probably wouldn't have noticed it. They had at least enough time to land somewhere, if they just didn't have the parts. Hopefully that wouldn't be required.

At some level, Niysha felt a new kind of proud. She was fixing a problem she had no experience with that someone else was physically unable to fix. Immediate mastery and a whiff of superiority. This was twice in two days she got to feel like a real Sith!
 
Wires, cables. Shielded, threaded, dual-core. In had a collection of orphaned cables, but the knowledge that Niysha was looking for one was exciting enough on its own. Maybe the blind woman had finally found the problem? That'd be... so nice. She padded over to a comm unit to respond, wiping her brow, tallying her mental inventory. She HAD scooped up that big spool of braided, shielded R&L cabling ways back. "The shipping container down there in Cargo is a tool shed. There's a spool of shielded R&L cabling in there in the back, and a few random loops hanging from a hook on the wall next to the spool if you need something different. The keypad is a bluff - it isn't locked."

Part of her wanted to race down and watch, but a larger part of her didn't want to jinx it by being around - superstition suggested the issue breaking the engine might be based on her mere proximity to it. Illogical, but pretty iron-clad. Still leaning on the wall, In paused for a moment with her finger lingering on the comm button. Was it gauche to thank someone before they'd done the thing? Was it rude to offer help at this late juncture? Too forward to express admiration on how astounding it was that she had even a hypothesis?

Her finger carefully stroked the button. A soft press. "...the wires aren't really organized. I can be down there to sort them out that if it'll help." The Pantoran woman offered. "Anything you need, really."
 
Niysha was already on her way to the cargo bay. Fortunately, the comm system continued to play even after she left the engine room. When she got to the larger, more open cargo area, she stopped by the door to turn on comms, then wandered towards what she assumed was the container in question while checking her datapad. She needed...

Distressing.

"The marking's not super distinct here. It looks like... aurek-dorn-16? Either two cables side-by-side or a double cable. I can't tell how thick it is, the diagram doesn't have anything for scale." When in doubt, ask someone who knew more than you. In was probably more knowledgeable about this sort of thing than Niysha. It would be hard for her to not be.

She opened the shipping container and started digging. All of these wires looked the same, but more tragically, Niysha realized something almost immediately that would make a huge roadblock for her solving this problem on her own. A minute since her last communication, she stood up leaned with her back against the shipping crate, sighing loudly, then raised her head to the speaker in the ceiling. "Can't see the markings on the cables," she replied with a bit of a huff. "Marking things by discoloration. I'm pretty sure there's a way to find it without that but... everything in here looks so similar."
 
In lingered morosely next to the comm until it squawked with a slightly huffy call to action. "I'll be right down!" In promised from deeper in the ship.

The hurried tromping of bare feet later, a soft thunk as In skipped the last section of the stairs by hopping over the rail. Eager to be useful to the Miraluka who'd appeared to have a breakthrough while fixing her engine, In had clearly hustled. Perhaps she'd hustled more than her slightly-beaten body could afford to handle.

The first thing she did was flick the lights on in the tool shed. She'd forgotten to tell Niysha about that, though supposed it didn't matter much. "Hey!" She chirped brightly, a breathless and slightly manic energy about her. "The R&L stuff is great. It's a thick cable-pair with good shielding. I like it because they come braided together, but you can twizzle 'em apart if you only need one for whatever reason. I think it's probably for ship use, since I pulled it from a freighter going to Fondor with some high-end tools." In explained.

She then plucked a couple of loops off of the pegboard. "I've got some heavily shielded super-conductive here that I'm pretty sure can withstand the heat and pressure. And this coil of desh triggerwire. I know they've used it in some Corellian ships, I have no idea how applicable it is here." In explained. "If you just need wire, though, we can get that ANYWHERE. Wire's crazy cheap. Is it a wiring issue?"
 
Out of all of that gush, Niysha's slightly huffy, mildly annoyed mood seemed to evaporate into thin air. She couldn't keep herself from smiling, waiting outside as In went pouring through a pile of mechanical stuff that Niysha didn't even barely recognize. After a bunch of questions she couldn't answer, the blindfolded lass held up her datapad, tapped the top-right corner to add color, and handed it over to In.

"It looks like it might be a wiring issue. At least part of it is,"
she replied. "There wouldn't be any visual damage to the wire from your perspective, I don't think. The break is inside the lining. You probably didn't have a lot of chance of finding it." Niysha stood back up and fluffed her hair out a little. Now she was sweating. The room had been hot, then she'd run out of it to go look at cables, then she'd been frustrated. Lots of stuff that raised her body temperature, one after another.

"I can't promise that this will fix anything, but I do know it's at least part of the problem." She offered an encouraging smile, leaving out the part about "breakdown into total atomic immolation" she'd read earlier with big, flashing warning signs. In didn't need to know about that until after they were done fixing it.
 
In spun the image around and examined it, squinting and tilting her head. She was used to seeing the engine from stupid angles. She of course, also didn't have the benefit of being able to cutaway sections of the engine to examine the guts. She stepped in shoulder-to-shoulder to trace a wire with her fingertip, glancing up towards her frizzy compatriot. "This one here? Running between the wane-shafts along the panometric fan?" The Pantoran woman confirmed. "I think I can replace that. The R&L'll probably work perfect for it. Niysha, if this works -"

In let the threat trail off, silenced by a broad grin. Passing the dataslate back, she loped back into the shed and looped off about two meters of R&L, cutting it by hand. "We can snip the wire at the terminals and run this on the outside of the assembly, test your theory without needing to open the engine up." She explained, brimming with excitement. "If it works, we'll leave it in place and replace it proper the next time we're in port and give the time to let the engine cool down - the wane-shaft gets up into the thousands, once you have the manifold open."

Knife in one hand, wiretool in the other, wrist-thick looped wire rolled over her shoulder, wearing not much more than bandages and loungewear, In stepped out of the tool shed with a radiant smile. "Let's go give this a try. C'mon!" She laughed, leading the way towards the ailing engine with an exuberant bounce in her step.
 
That was... a striking profile. Niysha caught herself staring, which was difficult to do. At least for the moment, she was certain she wanted to see more of this turbulent mess of a woman trying to fix her equally turbulent mess of a ship. That Niysha herself had offered something that might help at some level was, itself, very rewarding. Even moreso if it didn't turn the engine room into a very brief but incredibly hot fireball. Actually, she needed to check that before they went too far forward on this.

She halted at the door to the engine room and held up a finger in a universal symbol of "wait a second," then leaned back and took a deep breath. Detached from from the world, detached from the ship... detached from herself. Niysha sought answers in the most abstract place in the galaxy. She'd been taught to wrest, to take, to plunge deep and tear at the torrential primal everything that was the Force, but her nature - the nature of her whole species - was the glide. Deeper, beyond what Was and into what Had Been, what Might Be.

In the deepest heart of existence, beyond shape or form or dark or light, where all was one in malice and love and peace and hate, for just a moment, she looked for an answer, or a symbol, or... frankly, a vibe.

When she found it, she braced herself and slipped back through the crashing currents of all and more, bathing deep in the infinity of the Force as she returned, slowly and surely, to her body.

It took a minute or two. Eventually, she came back and smiled. "Sorry. Needed to take a moment to concentrate," she encouraged In with her completely normal soft, even tone. "We should be fine. Go ahead. How can I help?"
 
In was excited to get the engine maybe-fixed, but trusting Niysha's inexplicable (or, rather, mystically explained) insight into what doors she should and shouldn't go through had been a pretty reliable practice so far. When told to wait so that the frizzy-haired woman could contemplate for a moment, In did so. When she got the go-ahead, she grinned and squeezed past the Miraluka while plucking a spanner off of a wall inside the compartment. "I'd say just stand there, look pretty, and keep the door open for ventilation - but I'm gonna need the extra hands." In chuckled. "Especially since Dantuu stole my stepladder again last month and I haven't had a chance to replace it. I'll need you to give me a boostie up to the topside of the engine so I can reach the coupling without actually laying on top of the damn thing."

The engine room was cramped, far too hot, and the engine itself took up most of the space - leaving small 'service gaps' about 25cm on every side save the one that faced the void. In had known a couple spunky, usually short techs who lived those little squeeze-spots. In was not one of them.

The Pantoran tossed a couple of toggles on a wall, held down a trio of flashing buttons, then pulled a large lever-switch down. The engine audibly hummed as the power slowed to a trickle. A full shuttdown was inadvisable in space, but temporarily cutting the flow of power to the wiring put the engine into a pseudo-hibernating 'service' mode that would keep In from getting her skeleton fried out of her body. Knife in her mouth, she relied on Niysha to boost her up enough to get into the top service gap of the engine. It was unsteady work at a strange angle, the Pantoran's head canted at a nearly 90 degree angle while she steadied herself with one hand and cut the offending wire with the other.

From there, she stripped the fresh wire down with her knife and teeth, then crimped into place on the coupler. A few hard twists to tie it down securely. "Alright! Coming down." She called out, prompting Niysha to reverse whatever mechanism she'd used to lift her up to begin with. While balancing precariously in the heat had been miserable for her, she didn't doubt that Niysha was even more tired of lifting her ass.

Compared to the top coupling, the bottom was easy. In crawled under the engine, cut the wire, and secured the other end of the new cable - circumventing the path the damaged wire took through the engine assembly entirely. Less efficient, but useful for troubleshooting.

"Okay! Clear down here, Nysha!" In called out, her legs poking out from under the engine as she wiggled her way out. "Fire it up and let's see if that solves the stagger."
 
Lift. She could do that. Without the Force, frankly. She didn't know how In would even react to being lifted with the power of her mind. Niysha moved into the room and started putting together things that she could lean or step on to create a very hot, very sweaty human pyramid. She'd need a crate or a box to stand on, a couple of poles or something similar to brace with. Steadied, she provided a body ladder for In.

Which meant, of course, that Niysha was now distinctly uncomfortable. Sweaty and warm all over. She'd need another shower in a minute. Her hair was a mess and her clothes were almost as bad as the ones she'd been wearing yesterday. Still, it was better that than a blinding, unsettlingly brief plasma fireball and then a vacant emptiness where the engine room used to be.

Yeah she should really talk with In about that later, actually.

Second phase. Like the galaxy's scrawniest, most unimpressive cheerleader, Niysha lifted In's butt off her shoulders, tucked her head between her thighs, then dropped her a few centimeters at a time by shifting her grip up her legs one at a time, up to her hips, before setting her on the ground. With the exception of beating technobeasts into a concave mess with a metal pipe, that was by far the most athletic thing she'd done this month. She'd been panting so much that she missed the entire second part of the patch job.

Clear out. "Alright." When the Miraluka made it outside the room, she took a moment and centered herself, gently checked for any bad vibes, any warnings she might have been too blind to catch. Nothing so far... hit the engine...

It... whirred to life? No explosions. They weren't both dead before they could even process the pain. That was progress, at least.
 

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