Private How We Fix Things

[Corin Vale]

The last thing Corin wanted was to be responsible for someone else. The idea of someone relying on him and him alone was enough that the practiced frown and furrow in his brow was a little less forced than usual. There were things about the job that were acceptable, though. Namely, it was something relatively simple. A light freighter from CEC’s G9 Rigger-class dropped out of hyperspace and the crew jettisoned, citing irreparable damage to the ship and declaring it a total loss.

That just meant a payday for Corin and his partner for this job. Sure, the ship was old. Very, very old. Not a single original part left on it, more sealant and dreams holding it together than bolts and plating. But there were still parts, so Corin could fix it. At least help it hobble back to a shipyard where they could either retrofit or scrap as they needed.

But they called for a repair so it was going to get repaired.

Corin sat in the co-pilot seat of his partner Lyra Ventor’s freighter, sipping on a mug of caf as he scrolled through a datapad reporting all of the issues the ship had.

As he read, Corin couldn’t help but let out an appreciative whistle.

“Damn,” he clicked his tongue as he scanned the tablet and listed off the issues reported in a quiet almost to himself voice, “gravity’s being temperamental, main reactor is runnin’ hot…life support’s failing on the second deck...and the stabilizer on the s-foil is cracked? Stars above it’s no wonder they abandoned ship.”

Setting down the datapad, Corin raised his eyes and looked through the cockpit screen, staring out into nothingness and sipped on his mug of caf.

“Old ships like that need to be museum pieces. You can only replace somethin’ so much until it starts to lose its spirit,” he said, then cast his eyes around the cockpit of the ship they were in, observing much of the same repair jobs of someone who defiantly refused to move on. After his short inspection, he looked over at the pilot, “Not this though,” he said quickly, tapping a console appreciatively, “this ship’s great,” he confirmed then took another slow drink of his mug.

“I ain’t gonna treat you like a beginner,” he said, setting the mug aside and wiping his mouth with the side of his hand.

“No, hey Lyra make sure you got your EVA suit on if you’re goin’ outside! Or, hey Lyra close the shielding before you activate the reactor. You’re good enough for that. Gotta be to keep this thing runnin’.” He took another look around the room.

“But you’re gonna work on what I say to work on when I say to work on it, mm? And…yes, please don’t forget to put on your EVA suit.”

Lyra Ventor

 

[Lyra Ventor]

Lyra listened while Corin went through the damage report, one boot propped lazily against the lower console while her hands worked through pre-flight diagnostics with practiced ease. Around them, the cockpit hummed softly beneath her touch, its old systems responding with the familiar stubbornness she had long ago learned to work with rather than against. At his whistle and growing disbelief toward the abandoned freighter, a faint grin tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"You say that like we're not flying around in a ship held together by optimism and illegal amounts of aftermarket modification."

Her fingers danced across another control cluster while she glanced sidelong at him, catching the quick correction when he praised the Starling instead. That earned him immediate points, especially from her ship.

"See? She likes you already," she said lightly, patting the console beside her almost affectionately. "You insulted the other ship first."

As Corin continued, shifting into a more serious explanation of how they were going to handle the repair operation, Lyra's expression settled into something more attentive. She could already tell exactly what type of mechanic he was: thorough, overworked, and the kind of person who trusted their own hands more than anyone else's. Honestly, she deeply respected it, probably because she was annoyingly similar herself.

When he finally finished with his EVA warning, Lyra snorted softly and leaned back into her seat.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence buried underneath the lecture," she said, warmth threading through her dry humor. "And don't worry, I know how not to decompress myself into open space."

Her eyes drifted toward the stars outside the cockpit window before settling back on the datapad resting between them.

"Though I'm not gonna lie," she admitted thoughtfully, a faint spark of genuine excitement entering her voice, "I kind of love disasters like this. Half the systems failing, structural problems, overheating reactors, and crews abandoning ship because it looks completely impossible, because that's where things actually get interesting."

Her grin returned faintly as she reached over and tapped the flashing damage report.

"Besides, if the old girl survived long enough to get abandoned instead of exploding outright, she's clearly still got some fight left in her."

Her eyes flicked toward him again afterward, curious now rather than guarded as her hand rested lightly against the console beneath her fingertips.

"So tell me honestly, Corin," she said after a small, thoughtful pause. "Are you the kind of mechanic that fixes ships because you care about the people flying them, or because you just can't stand losing the ship itself?"

Corin Vale

 

[Corin Vale]

Almost immediately, Lyra drew something from Corin he often forgot he could do.

Corin laughed.

The care Lyra showed her ship, the way she talked about it, cared for it. The way she responded to him. It reminded him of him, but younger, more lively. Proud of her work in a way most people just weren’t. She cared about her ship like it was alive, like it was part of her. Every modification she made he was sure felt like she was improving a part of her own life. It was a passion he had long since lost, something he couldn’t help but feel jealous of.

He allowed himself a rare workplace smile as he responded to her,

“I’m glad she likes me,” he said and chuckled again, “but everything has its time to go. Ain’t your ship’s time but it is this Rig’s. Just hope her owners realize that.”

He sighed and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at her as she spoke. Again the smile danced across his face as the fondness of his memories came to him. There it was again, that passion. It almost lit his own back up. He could listen to someone talk about how happy they were to fix a disaster for eternity, he decided. He also decided to ignore her question for the moment, deciding to collect his thoughts.

He shrugged his shoulders and looked back out the viewport. “On the choice between a fiery explosion and bein’ forgotten?...I’d rather this ship go out proper. Even if they knew we were coming out to get it, I hate seeing it out here. Empty, cold. But she didn’t kill her crew, they got out, so…” he stopped and took a deep breath through his nose, “Good job, girl,” he said quietly to the ship as it started to come into view.

“Alright,” he said, pointing, “I know this ship has a loading ramp in the back, I don’t think it has any other entry ports,” he turned towards Lyra, “you have anything on this’n that’ll help us get out there ‘sides EVA?” he asked then pushed himself up and off the seat, grabbing the datapad with the damage report and tucking it inside his jumpsuit,

As he turned to leave the bridge, he turned towards Lyra, “About your question? It’s a good question,” he said, then rubbed the back of his head. “If I had to choose I’d choose you over your ship. Does that answer it? Crew makes the ship, not the other way 'round.”

He sighed out and furrowed his brow in thought, “I dunno…well, no, I do know. I mean…I like fixing things. Ships. I do it cause someone else might screw up and get someone killed. This Rig’s a piece of junk and needs to be sunset but…,” he turned back to her and flashed a half smile, “When we’re done with her, her crew’ll be able to fly her again and not have to worry about dyin’ horribly for at least a year or two.”

He felt a twinge of pain in his chest and turned back away from her where his smile quickly died. Yes, they’d fix it. Yes, it’d fly again.


But what if they weren’t here next time?

Lyra Ventor

 

[Lyra Ventor]

Lyra listened quietly while Corin spoke, her attention drifting from him to the damaged freighter slowly coming into view beyond the cockpit glass. Even from a distance, she could already see the uneven power fluctuations running along the hull plating and the subtle instability in the ship's posture relative to its drift; the old Rig just looked incredibly tired, devoid of any drama or glory, and entirely exhausted. At first, she only smiled faintly at his comment about the Starling liking him, but the warmth in her expression softened further the longer he spoke. There was something strangely familiar in the way he talked about broken vessels. Not with a blind, idealistic attachment, but with the weary respect of someone who had spent too much time trying to keep dying things alive.

When he finally answered her question, doing so honestly rather than directly, it mattered much more to her. Her eyes lingered on him after he turned away again, catching the brief disappearance of his smile and the quiet heaviness underneath the words he chose carefully not to elaborate on. She knew that look. Not the exact specifics, perhaps, but certainly the shape of it. It was guilt, the distinct and heavy kind that mechanics carried when machinery failed loudly, and people got hurt quietly.

"Crew makes the ship," she repeated softly, leaning back in her chair for a moment as she considered his words, her thumb brushing absentmindedly against the worn metal of the Starling's console, polished smooth by years of use. "Yeah. I think you're right about that. Though I think ships remember people, too. Maybe not literally, but you spend enough years inside one: patching it together, fighting to keep it flying, listening to every sound it makes—and eventually it starts feeling less like machinery and more like a conversation."

As they drew closer, the damaged freighter loomed larger through the viewport, its scarred plating and failing systems becoming easier to distinguish against the backdrop of open space. Lyra exhaled softly through her nose before finally pushing herself up from the pilot's seat and reaching for her gloves near the side compartment.

"I don't think someone who worries this much about crews is capable of treating ships like scrap," she noted, offering the observation with quiet certainty rather than her usual teasing.

Then, because lingering too long on heavier emotions never sat naturally with her, she smoothly slipped back toward lighter ground while pulling on her gloves, a faint grin tugging at her mouth once more.

"As for getting out there? I've got magnetic tether rigs, maneuvering harnesses, external maintenance clamps, and one very questionable stabilization platform that definitely violates at least six safety regulations. So naturally, that last one works perfectly."

Stepping toward the rear of the cockpit, her mind already shifted entirely into work mode as the shadow of the broken ship fell across them. "C'mon," she called lightly over her shoulder. "Let's go convince this old girl she's not dead yet."

Corin Vale

 

[Corin Vale]

Eventually it stars feeling less like machinery and more like a conversation…

A small, single solitary chuckle escaped Corin’s mouth. There was no shortage of people with the passion for the job. Mekneks, Techs, Engineers, whatever. Corin was hardly the only one who was passionate about his job, but it still made him happy each and every time he met someone who cared as much as he did. He nodded softly and stepped to the side, allowing the Captain of her Ship free reign without stepping on her toes or getting in the way. He crossed his arms and watched as she maneuvered the Starling closer to the old Rigger, a quiet confidence in her skills building, but he continued to watch for any misstep.

This was still a chance to see how she worked. What, if anything, he could help improve. So far he was impressed. She knew the workings of her ship, how to handle it. Didn’t crash into the Rig which was a plus.

He cast his eyes from her to the ship beyond the glass, a small frown on his lips. The damage was visible from here. Corin looked back at Lyra after a moment, watching as her eyes danced across the hull as well. He imagined her immediately setting to work, prioritizing damage in her mind, working out the most efficient method to complete the job. Something he himself did. They seemed so similar it was almost a certainty to him that’s what she was doing before she pushed herself up from the seat.

“Well,” he answered, shrugging his shoulder weakly, “sometimes a ship is just scrap.”
He shook his head, “Not that tha’ ever stopped me…but sometimes it should, I think. I dunno.” He shrugged again, his eyes glazing over in thought before he perked up as she ran down the list of options. The tiredness in his expression eased slightly and a smirk fought its way back on his lips,

“Naturally,” he repeated and chuckled. Corin was all too familiar with dispensing with safety regulations when they become a hindrance more so than a protective measure. Part of him tensed, however. The Regulations were there for a reason after all, but for people like Corin and, he suspected, Lyra they more often than not just got in the way. Corin gestured with a hand for her to lead the way before falling into step behind her.

“Your ship, Cap’n,” he said and weakly saluted, “your call.”

He moved out of the cockpit into a nearby storage where he left his toolbox, “Speaking of EVA,” he said over his shoulder as he grabbed his protective armored sleeve, “It’ll be able to fit this over it, no?” He waved the sleeve of metal plates slightly and tilted his head.

“Not that it’s necessary. Just, you know. Safety first. Unless it’s inconvenient. Or dangerous.”

Lyra Ventor

 

[Lyra Ventor]

Lyra laughed softly as she guided the Starling into position alongside the battered Rigger, the freighter responding to her touch with the familiarity of long practice. Outside the viewport, the damaged vessel drifted quietly against the stars, looking every bit as exhausted as its report had suggested.

"See, that's where you and I disagree," she said, glancing back toward him as she rose from the pilot's seat. "A ship can be scrap economically. That doesn't necessarily mean it's scrap mechanically. Somebody looked at the Starling once and offered me more for her parts than the whole ship was worth."

Her expression flattened immediately. "I considered throwing him out an airlock." Whether she was joking remained pleasantly ambiguous.

By the time they reached the storage compartment, Lyra was already pulling her EVA suit from its locker and stepping into the lower half with practiced efficiency. At the sight of the armored sleeve in Corin's hand, her grin widened.

"Oh, you're one of those mechanics," she observed. "The kind that treats safety regulations like optional reading material but still carries enough armor to survive a reactor accident."

She crouched briefly to seal one of the suit couplings before looking back up at the sleeve.

"It'll fit, though honestly, the fact you're asking tells me you've probably had a piece of equipment fail in a spectacularly memorable way at least once before."

The amusement lingered in her voice as she continued securing the suit.

"Most mechanics I know either trust their skills or trust their luck. You seem determined not to trust either, which probably means you've been doing this long enough to know exactly how creative the galaxy can be when it decides to ruin your day."

She reached for her helmet and tucked it beneath one arm before leaning lightly against the bulkhead.

"Honestly, I think that's part of why I like jobs like this. Everyone else sees a dying ship and starts calculating what it's worth as scrap. Mechanics see a problem that hasn't beaten them yet."

Her gaze drifted briefly toward the drifting Rigger beyond the viewport.

"Maybe she's finished. Maybe she isn't. Either way, I'd rather find out after we've actually looked at her instead of giving up from a distance." A familiar spark of enthusiasm settled into her expression as she pushed herself away from the wall and started toward the airlock. "Come on. Let's go make some poor financial decisions in the name of engineering."

Corin Vale

 

[Corin Vale]

“Well it was awful kind o’you to only consider it,” Corin replied with a sagely nod and a straight face.

He approached the EVA locker and pulled the suit from its containment, spinning it around he stepped into the suit and fastened it tight over himself, then slipped the armored sleeve and glove overtop the right arm, fastening it in place before grabbing the helmet and inspecting it.

“It pays to be prepared,” he answered plainly. Lyra was closer to the mark than he’d let on. Checking one’s equipment, having redundancies upon redundancies? These kept engineers alive.

“No such thing as too much good stuff,” he said with a small smile before continuing, “I wish I could count on my luck like that. If I could I wouldn’t be here. You’d catch me on Canto Bight. And skill? Well, yeah I’m good….sure. But you’re right. The galaxy has a habit of tossing all manner of problems at you. Sometimes skill ain’t enough.”

He slipped the helmet on over his head and locked it in place, testing the systems and running a quick diagnostic. Everything came back green, and he let out a ‘mm’ of approval.
“I appreciate you keeping your equipment in top shape, even your extras.”

He’d known of too many spacers who only ever cared for their main equipment. Then when it came time to need a backup? Well…

He followed along into the airlock and closed the door behind them. “Alright. Helmet on, make sure you’re ready with whatever docking mechanism we’re usin’,” he said through his own helmets speaker.

Corin waited until his partners was securely fastened and she gave the okay before he vented the atmosphere of the airlock and safely decompressed the chamber, then opened the outer door into the blackness of space.

“Right. First things first, we gotta settle down the reactor. It keeps misbehavin’ won’t matter how much of the ship we repair. So, how we gettin’ on her?”

Lyra Ventor

 

[Lyra Ventor]

Lyra finished sealing her helmet and watched the status indicators flicker across the inside of the visor before giving a satisfied nod. Everything green. Everything was where it was supposed to be. That alone probably guaranteed something would go wrong.

At his comment about the spare equipment, a faint smile crossed her face. "I've spent enough time flying to know that the day you need the backup is usually the day you discover nobody checked it."

She gave one of the airlock lockers a light tap with her knuckles. "Besides, if somebody trusts me enough to climb aboard my ship, the least I can do is make sure the emergency equipment actually works."

The outer hatch opened onto the stars, revealing the battered Rigger floating silently beside them. Up close, the damage looked even worse. Scorch marks streaked sections of the hull, several maintenance panels sat slightly proud of their housings, and the entire vessel carried the exhausted appearance of something that had survived far longer than anyone expected it to.

Lyra studied it for a moment before nodding toward the drifting freighter. "For getting aboard, I can help with that." She stepped toward a storage compartment near the airlock and tapped one of the secured containers. "The Starling has a couple of options. I've got maintenance clamps if you want to do it the sensible way, or I've got a stabilization platform that'll get us across faster. Technically, it's designed for external cargo work. In practice, I've used it for just about everything except external cargo work."

She glanced back toward the damaged vessel. "If the schematics are still accurate, the reactor access ought to be along the dorsal spine. Once we're aboard, I'll follow your lead on the repairs."

A moment later, she stepped out into open space, magnetic boots locking against the hull of the Starling with a reassuring clunk.

"Though before we go save her," she added over the comms, looking toward the battered Rigger, "I feel obligated to point out that she looks exactly like the sort of ship that ignores professional opinions out of pure spite."

There was a note of affection in her voice as she looked over the scarred hull.

"Which probably means she's going to be stubborn enough to survive this."

Corin Vale

 

[Corin Vale]

This girl continued to impress. As it stood she was already among the most capable and competent workers Corin’d had the pleasure of working with. If she wasn’t already at his level mechanically she’d get there soon, and likely surpass him.

“Huh.” He muttered quietly to himself in response to the thought.

The thought of not being the best around felt…odd. Relaxing, yet harrowing. Proud, yet concerned.

It was enough that it made him endeavor to himself to keep learning, improving. It wasn’t that he didn’t want this girl to be better than him, it was that that intrinsic need he had to be the one to take the risk and responsibility.

For the moment, however, he gave her a subtle nod of approval. He was glad to see someone be better than him, he decided, and especially at a young age.


Corin disengaged the EVA MAG boots and let himself drift out into space slowly, grabbing onto a handle just outside the airlock door? Trying to get a closer look at the status of the Rig’s hull.

“Looks like she’s been through wars,” he said, his eyes drifting over the scorch marks, “like a lil’ veteran.” He chuckled softly, then oriented himself to the hull and clicked his mag boots back on.

“Sensible is good,” he said, “speed bonus ain’t nothin’ to be silly for. Buuuut I don’t mind being a lil’ dumb as long as it’s safe. Safeish.” He corrected.

He listened as she noted where the reactor access should be and his eyed trailed along the spine of the ship. He was thankful for these civilian models. Military ships had the vitals locked behind so many bulkheads that shut down as soon as the lights flickered. Civilian meant easy access.

Private sector always beat out Public.

“I think I see where it might be,” he said, then reached down next to the airlock and pulled a tether from a compartment, attaching it to the back of his suit. He disengaged the mag boots and pushed off gently, using small movement control boosters to guide himself as he kept his distance from the ships hull, but maneuvered closer for a better look.

Sure enough, there it was. An access hatch that led straight into the reactor bay. No doubt a cramped fit. Maybe private wasn’t always better. He pointed the panel out and keyed his comm, “yeah here it is. I think.” He guided himself closer to the hull, careful not to touch it. “…maybe the stabilization platform. With how temperamental she is I bet she’d give you a shock if you touched the hull straight. Anything that puts a layer between us and the hull is good.”

He kicked his boosters back on and yanked on the tether, causing it to spool back and bring him back to the ship. As he got back he kicked his mag boots back on and landed next to her with a thud.

“Right. So, yeah. Just a feelin’. Then we definitely gotta settle her heart down.”

Lyra Ventor

 

[Lyra Ventor]

Lyra watched Corin drift out from the airlock, her attention following his movements as much as the damaged freighter itself. There was something reassuring about watching someone who clearly knew what they were doing. Not because it made the job easier, but because it meant she could spend less energy second-guessing every decision.

That was a rare luxury.

"Safeish," she repeated over the comms with obvious amusement. "I like that. It's a very mechanic-specific unit of measurement."

While he inspected the hull, she pulled open one of the nearby storage compartments and began freeing the stabilization platform from its mounting brackets. The device folded outward in sections as she worked, revealing a compact repulsor platform that looked like it had been modified often enough to qualify as its own engineering discipline.

By the time Corin pointed out the access hatch, she was already studying the same section of hull through her visor.

"I see it," she replied. "And honestly, I'd trust your instincts over my luck."

That wasn't false modesty. Corin had been doing this longer than she had, and she was smart enough to learn from people who knew things she didn't.

As he returned to the Starling and landed beside her, Lyra secured the last power coupling on the platform and glanced toward the freighter again.

"A reactor running hot, failing systems, and a hull that wants to bite anyone who touches it," she mused. "She's definitely got personality."

The platform hummed quietly to life beneath her hand.

"Let's get over there and have a look at her heart, then. Once we know why the reactor's throwing a tantrum, the rest of the ship might actually start cooperating."

A faint grin appeared at that.

"Or she'll invent three entirely new problems just to keep us humble. I've known ships that operate on that principle."

With the platform ready, she stepped back and motioned toward it.

"After you. You're the expert on fixing reactors. I'm just the pilot providing questionable transportation and emotional support."

Corin Vale

 

[Corin Vale]

Corin chuckled and shook his head, "How right you are," he said slowly. Ships like these tended to be layered in more ways than just with hulls. You fix one problem only to find that one problem was keeping three other subsystems from exploding. Now that's fixed, those three problems become exacerbated.

It was laborious work. But work he honestly loved. Every new puzzle was a blessing in disguise holding overwhelming boredom at bay one red blinking system failure light at a time.

Once the stabilization platform was in place and ready, Corin was taken a bit by surprise that Lyra had asked him to take charge. He'd thought of her as willing to prove herself to her own detriment, yet she deferred to him. He blinked in surprise, then nodded, "Age before beauty, after all," he agreed, then stepped on the platform, "And if this explodes you can say y'gave it your best," he stomped his foot on the platform gently.

"Buuut it hasn't yet. Goodie," he mumbled and activated it. The platform hummed to life and began drifting towards the reactor access panel. As they drew closer, Corin dropped to a knee and retrieved a tool from his belt, a small device with a prod on the end of it. He held it over the hull, then over the hatch. "Right. Small current going through the hull but none on the hatch Well that's good." He turned over his shoulder at Lyra, "Don't touch the hull if you can help it. You'll get a bit of a zap. Nothin' too painful."

As if to prove his point, he moved his hand and touched the hull. A small arc of electricity jumped from the hull onto his fingers sending a slight tingle through the suit.

"Ooh, ow." He shook his hand, "That actually didn't really hurt too bad...just smarted a bit. I like the insulation on these suits." He nodded down at his fingers in appreciation. The real damage was the systems flickering. Didn't want to stress them too much. His science experiment completed, Corin turned back towards the access hatch. With another tool, he pried the panel open and sparked some wires together, causing the hatch to slide open. A blast blew out from decompression and caused him to instinctively bring a hand to his face to shield his visor.

"Easy as taken candy from a baby hutt," he muttered, then turned a flashlight on and looked into the maintenance tunnel. It was clear this was meant for droids, not for people, but it was still big enough for him and her to shimmy inside.

"Right....hurrmm...Damn, why can't they just make these things so people can get inside..." he mumbled and shook his head, then looked back over his shoulder, "Alright superstar. Let's keep some distance, here." He pulled a tether from the platform and hooked it to his suit. "Should be fine to get into the reactor room, then we can stand properly and enter the rest of the ship, but just in case I'mma hook up."

He nodded at her then put his arms inside the hole, sliding his body inside as he began working his way into the ship. "Come come," he said back at her, "Who doesn't love cramped, dark, deadly spaces?"

Lyra Ventor

 

[Lyra Ventor]

Lyra couldn't help but smile as Corin stepped forward without hesitation. The way he inspected the hull, tested the current, and worked through the access hatch wasn't flashy, but there was a confidence to it that came only from experience. He moved with the ease of someone who had spent years crawling through failing ships and solving problems that most people would have written off as impossible. She found herself paying close attention, not because she doubted her own abilities, but because there was always something to learn from someone who had survived this long in the trade.

The little demonstration with the electrical current earned an amused shake of her head. Most mechanics would have simply warned her about the hazard and moved on, but Corin had apparently decided that personal experimentation was a perfectly reasonable substitute for explanation. Watching the small arc jump to his glove before he calmly announced that it wasn't too bad was equal parts informative and ridiculous.

"You know, most people just tell me not to touch something dangerous," she remarked, unable to suppress a grin. "You actually touched it yourself first just to see what would happen. I have to admit, though, that was useful. Reckless, maybe, but useful."

While he worked the access hatch open, Lyra clipped a second tether to her suit and checked the connection twice before securing it properly. She fed the line through her gloved hands, making sure it would spool cleanly if either of them needed it. Between the unstable reactor, the damaged systems, and the fact they were floating outside a drifting freighter, she had no intention of taking unnecessary chances. Corin's caution had a purpose to it, and she found herself appreciating it more the longer they worked together.

The maintenance tunnel itself earned a quiet groan once she saw how narrow it was. The opening looked like it had been designed by someone who had never actually considered the possibility of a living being needing access to the systems inside. She crouched beside it, peering into the cramped darkness before looking back toward Corin.

"I swear engineers either design maintenance access for droids or for people they've developed a personal grudge against," she said before lowering herself into the passage. As she settled into the tunnel and carefully managed the tether line behind her, another thought occurred to her. "And thank you, by the way. For the superstar comment. You've spent most of this job teaching me things, but I appreciate that you don't treat me like I don't belong out here."

With that, she began working her way forward through the narrow accessway after him. The darkness closed in around them while the hum of the damaged ship echoed faintly through the surrounding structure. It was cramped, uncomfortable, and exactly the sort of place where important systems always seemed to hide. Still, as she followed Corin deeper into the vessel, she found herself feeling surprisingly confident. Between his experience and her own determination, they stood a decent chance of getting this old freighter flying again.

Corin Vale

 

[Corin Vale]

The panel behind them closed as they entered the cramped space. "Well," he said as he worked through the accessway. "I always thought there's a difference between knowin' and knowin, you know?" He grunted as he pushed himself through the space.

"You can know that the hull is electrified 'cause I told ya, or you can know it 'cause you experienced it first hand. I knew it was bad, now I know it is. Get it?" He asked, trying to convince himself that his logic made sense, "Well, makes sense to me, anyway." He chuckled and kept pushing.

"An' why would I treat'cha like you don't belong?" he asked as they got close to the reactor side access hatch. He banged on it experimentally, seeing if it'd give way. Satisfied it was secure, he opened the panel on the inside and brought a scomp link out from his right arm brace, connecting it to the access panel. More evidence these passages were meant for droids, not people.

"You know your stuff. Ain't lookin' to do somethin' stupid to prove yourself, and you have a care for the job. Hell, I'd pick you over a crew of guys anyday, I think." he said as the scomp did it's job and the panel slid open. A quick burst of decompression blew past them. "Alright. Still pressurized inside the ship. That's good. Alrighty." He pulled himself out and looked around. At least these maintenance tunnels ended up being on floor level so they didn't have to fall down or anything. With a groan he pushed himself up to his feet and looked at the reactor.

It was making a quiet hum noise, followed irregularly by a screeching noise.

"Right. Pop quiz. You got an idea what's wrong with it at a glance? Or we gotta get in there and suss it out ourselves?"

Lyra Ventor

 

[Lyra Ventor]

Lyra listened to Corin's explanation while pulling herself the rest of the way out of the maintenance access. By the time she was standing beside him, she found herself reluctantly nodding.

"You know, I like that your logic makes sense," she admitted. "But it kind of does."

The distinction between being told something and experiencing it firsthand wasn't one she could really argue with. Pilots learned the same lesson often enough. Someone could warn you about turbulence, atmospheric shear, or a bad hyperspace route all day long. It wasn't quite the same as feeling it for yourself.

Her attention shifted to the reactor as the irregular screech sounded again. Instead of answering immediately, she stepped closer and studied the housing, watching indicator lights, conduit runs, and the way the system vibrated under load. It was an old habit. Observe first. Guess second.

"At a glance?" she repeated thoughtfully.

She crouched near one of the access panels and listened through the hull for a moment.

"If I had to guess, I'd say something in the regulation system isn't keeping up. Could be a failing coolant pump, could be a damaged circulation line, maybe even a compensator that's struggling to maintain output."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as another screech echoed through the compartment.

"The hum sounds mostly stable, which makes me think the reactor itself isn't the immediate problem. It's the irregular noise that bothers me. Something sounds like it's working harder than it should be."

She rose back to her feet and glanced over at Corin.

"It'll be confirmed by getting hands on, but that's just my guess."

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"What about you? You've probably heard half a dozen reactors make that exact noise and then immediately ruin someone's day."

Corin Vale

 

[Corin Vale]

Corin nodded his head, his eyes watching her as she diagnosed the problem the reactor might have been having.

"Well those are all mighty fine answers I think," he said with a chuckle, "also, yeah, a trick question. Don't matter what we think it is we gotta look at all the probable causes anyway."

He walked around the reactor to another access panel, just quietly and in no hurry observing the surface level details of the reactor as he thought about the problem. After a moment, he went back around to Lyra and leaned in to the reactor, putting his ear to the hull in the same way she did, listening to the problems she noticed.

"this is what goin' 'nah I'll just wait until next week' does to a system..." he muttered, before looking at her and shrugging his shoulders. "Yeah workin' this job ya hear plenty of terrible ship noises and ya think to yourself 'well there's no way I can fix it.' Then ya do anyway." He smiled and nodded towards the access panel.

"Let's get that off and see what we can see right now. I think you're on the money though, regulation system is busted. Probably more than jus' that but we get that fixed maybe we don't get shocked if we touch the wrong spot no more."

He looked back towards her, focusing his attention again back on what she had asked, "Yeah ya hear it, but you an' I we don't give up just 'cause it sounds bad, do we?"

Lyra Ventor

 

[Lyra Ventor]

Lyra smiled as Corin admitted it had been a trick question. Somehow, that didn't surprise her. The longer they worked together, the more she realized he wasn't interested in seeing whether she could guess the right answer. He wanted to see how she thought, and there was a world of difference between the two.

"That's almost cruel," she said with a quiet laugh. "You let me build a whole theory knowing we'd have to open it up regardless."

She stepped beside him at the access panel and began unfastening the retaining bolts one by one, careful to keep them organized rather than letting them drift around the compartment. Years of working on the Starling had taught her that the fastest way to lose an afternoon was dropping hardware somewhere inaccessible.

"Still..." she continued, setting the final fastener aside, "I suppose that's how you learn. Make your best diagnosis, then prove yourself right or wrong with your hands instead of your pride."

The panel eased free, and she leaned it carefully against the bulkhead before peering into the maze of conduits, regulators, and coolant lines hidden beneath. Even before touching anything, her eyes began tracing the system from one component to the next, following the path the power should have been taking instead of jumping immediately to whatever looked damaged.

She looked over at Corin and smiled.

"No," she agreed. "We don't. If every terrible sound scared mechanics away, there wouldn't be any ships left flying."

There was a quiet satisfaction in saying it aloud. She understood exactly what he meant. Neither of them was here because ships behaved themselves. They were here because they didn't.

"Let's see what she's been trying to tell us," she said, turning her attention back to the exposed machinery. "She made enough noise getting our attention. Now it's our turn to listen."

Corin Vale