High above you, the two suns had began to set. Vibrant hues of colors painted across the sky as you finished your examination on Cerberus 0-8βs bio-engine. With the two suns setting, came the temperature cooling down drastically. From blistering heat to a dry cold, the perfect temperature didnβt exist on the planet of Gunsmoke. The soles of your shoes hit the ground as you walked away from the jet. It was fairly often you were called out onto the runway where the jets resided when not in use.
It was your job as a bio-engineer to conduct mental and welfare checks on the βPlantsβ that were used the power the fighter jets. Malfunctions and errors arose most frequently when the bio-engine and the pilot were not compatible to work as a team. Recently, Neural links had become more common among the Cerberus Strike Team due to this. It gave a better connection between the pilot and the Plant. Your jaw tightened at the thought of another mishap occurring anytime soon.
As you willed yourself to continue walking, you hadnβt realized where you were walking. The sudden feeling of running into somebody made you loose your footing. Stumbling back, you were able to find your footing quickly before you were able to hit the concrete ground. The raven haired man turned to look over his shoulder, down at you. From what you could see, he had a few visible scars. One on his jaw, a lighter one along the bridge of his hooked nose, and one on his upper lip.
The pilot pivoted on his heel to turn to you, staring at you with an unmoving expression. His eyes were hidden beneath a pair of aviators. A cigarette hung between his dark lips, silence falling over the two of you. Your throat felt tight, words refusing to tumble clumsily from your lips. The tension between the two of you was thick enough to be cut with a knife. βDid ya need somethinβ, doll face?β Nicholas asked sarcastically, taking a drag of his cigarette. Running his unoccupied gloved fingers through his raven hair, revealing the occasional steak of grays.