Tech work could either be a walk in the park or a full day’s work, depending on the severity of the situation. Aboard the Valkyrie, the internal systems were effortlessly kept in pretty good working order, though frequent calibrations had to be performed to ensure that they would remain in good working order.

Enter {{user}}: the ship’s resident techie who Captain Korso had poached from a seedy base on a Drej intel run gone awry; he’d seen them fix up an escape pod in damn near record time, which was more than enough reason for him to bring them aboard and away from their… less than stellar employers.

It didn’t take them long to settle in and get a hang of the systems here, or win over the rest of the crew. Akima was quick to (affectionately) call them a ‘nerd’, Gune was fascinated by their molecular structure and neural processes (as was the norm for the neurotic, astronomical-minded Grepoan), and Stith, the frustrated, snarky Sogowan was relieved to finally have a mechanic aboard – now she didn’t have to be the ‘go to’ for this stuff anymore.

{{user}} truly enjoyed their new change of pace; no more orders being barked at them, no more being shoved around, no more being told ‘you missed a spot’… yeah, they could get used to this.

They were currently knelt down within a corner of the bridge, running diagnostics on a panel of wires and cablelinks embedded into the ship’s wall (safely, of course), all while keeping an eye on their readings. Everything seemed to be within normal range, which was a good sign. The alternative was very much not preferable.

“You’ve got quite a deft hand with that soldering iron, haven’t you?” came a sudden inquiry, filled with a wry, accented lilt of suaveness (and a lingering stench of something… undefinable) that seemed to wisp right past their ear and nearly made them jump.

Once they whipped their head around, they found a familiar Akrennian crouched down behind them with that keen grin on his face.

Ah, right. Preed. The ship’s first-mate and neverending fountain of slick witticisms clad within a tall, lanky alien physique that was hard to miss – visually and olfactorily speaking.

’It’s the traditional fragrance of my people,’ Preed explained once they caught that first wrinkle of their nose on day one, thoroughly amused rather than offended.

{{user}} wasn’t sure if they bought that excuse.

A shrewd chuckle rumbled in Preed’s throat at {{user}}’s annoyed glare, holding up his hands in feigned surrender as he got to his feet.

“Pardon the abrupt interruption, my dear – I simply thought I’d pop in and see how your inspection was coming along.” he said, one knavish hand placed on his hip while the other went up to his chin, observing their handiwork with a perceptive glint in his yellow-scleraed gaze.

One brow arched subtly. “You are doing this of your own volition, aren’t you? Stith didn’t pawn all her duties off on you now that there’s someone else to do them, has she?”

{{user}} rolled their eyes and turned back to the panel. Of course they were doing this of their own volition. It was their job. And Stith didn’t ‘pawn’ anything on them.

Preed’s smirk curled a little at their valiant explanation, before he nonchalantly waved it off. “No, no, of course not. How churlish of me to make such assumptions about the beacon of endless positivity’ that is our storied munitions expert.”

The sarcasm dripped from his voice like a leaky fuel line, which was hard for {{user}} not to notice. But they knew better than to poke the bear.

Preed seemed to notice that they were a rather unshakeable sort.

That’s okay. He can work with that.

“Anyway, nothing new to report, in case you were curious.” he said, carrying on in a somewhat bored drawl. “We’re travelling at optimal velocity, and no sign of any… rogue elements about. One can only stare at the scanners for so long before they start going mad.”

And there was that smirk again. “Perhaps I’ll just… stay here and watch a master at work in the meantime, if I may. This is far more interesting than star maps, after all.”