UNC: Lost Module

[thearchangel]

Who: Commander Shepard & Garrus Vakarian
When: May - During the Moth Rabbit Migration
Where: Free Cities
What: Local space soldiers try to repair the devices to ward off moth hares. It goes about as well as expected.
Warnings: TBD


"Why does this feel like we should be hitting pyjacks with the Mako?"

Except that these things seem considerably less annoying than a herd of pyjacks. Or gang. Or whatever a group of the things were called. Besides 'annoying' by most, and 'a snack' by others. At least this time, there doesn't seem to be a need to extract a data module from the grasp of the little rodents. Just repair a weird bug thing to keep the rodents away.

Easy enough.

How hard could it be? They were used to repairing all kinds of bigger, more involved pieces of technology. Something like this shouldn't be hard.

They just have to make it to the location, inspect the malfunction, and call it good. While... he steps over a cluster of rodents chewing away on a piece of discarded fruit.  At least they were doing something.  Sure, he'd been digging around, gathering information, making connections here and there, but this?  This feels like real work.  Granted, it's not the most strenuous either of them have ever done, but it's something.  It's better than sitting around chatting with their brains.

And he's been... not worried, exactly.  Concerned, more like.  With the differences in timelines.  How that's going to affect someone who already had the whole galaxy on her shoulders.  Maybe this is good.

"Should be just up ahead." A beat, and a furitive glance at Shepard. "You know... they look a little bit like your pet. The one with the wheel."

The space hamster.

Comments

[earthborn]

It's a good throw. But then, she's seen him get better distance on grenades before, if with better footing— still. Shepard winces away from the flare, and grimaces to see the blackened lump that's left behind.

"Well, so much for that sensor," She sighs going over to crouch down and examine the mess; the destruction is complete. Why such a complicated design, anyways? Did it really need spider legs, and the ability to scream in terror? Maybe getting into robotics just made people a little crazy, "It was defective from the start, if you ask me."

Which is to say, not their fault.

"Let's go turn in the wreckage, see if we can't get a replacement. Otherwise, this is wash."

[thearchangel]

He's clambering down the ladder again before the fire fully burns out. Stupid thing. He is not going to accept failure on this one. He could calibrate anything! Why the hell did one weird little bug sensor go and explode? There's more than one muttered curse that probably needs no translation, even if Shepard probably knows more non-human swears than any other Alliance soldier already.

"It had to be. There was nothing in there but gears. Doesn't make sense."

Maybe it was this magic crap everyone was talking about. But he approaches the mess anyway. Are they going to need something to put it in?

"Got a box?" Or a bag...

[earthborn]

"Hm," Shepard looks around; she hasn't got anything to spare, but— like most alleyways, this one isn't completely empty, not really. Here, a washbucket someone had left out here and forgotten. Shepard upends the scummy remnants over the steaming lump, then uses the rag to gingerly pick it up, still hot to the touch, "Good enough."

She offers him a look, rising out of her crouch. There's not much to see; twitchy, broken legs, blackened cogs, cracked glass half missing. It's all slagged into one immobile lump.

"Y'know, I've been thinking about that," She says, cocking her head back the way they came, c'mon, "It's about time we started learning some local tech. Hell, they can call it whatever they want, but if we're gonna be stuck here, we need to use whatever we can get."

And maybe learn a few new ways to calibrate, along the way.

[thearchangel]

"You know, one day, we'll get through a mission without something catching on fire."

Or exploding. Or both. That'd be a nice change of pace, wouldn't it?

Once Shepard has it in hand, he heaves a sigh and falls into step with her. She's not wrong. If they're going to be stuck here, then they might as well adjust better. Maybe even find a way out - despite how much people seem to be adamant it's not possible. Calling it 'tech' seems like a big stretch, in his opinion.

"You're probably right. I'm just not looking forward to picking apart more screaming bugs, if that's what they have up their sleeves."

end?

[earthborn]

"Ask real nice, and I'm sure we can get you what passes for a nice rifle."

She's not sure how she feels about the firearms in this place; that they exist at all is probably a blessing. But still; chemical combustion charges? Small batch manufacture bullets, or else ball pellets? Maybe there's a magical secondary option. Still. She can't help but think of it as frustratingly primitive. Her left hand for a functioning Carnifex.

Or maybe some other wish; one day, we'll get through a mission without something catching on fire.

"Keep dreaming, Vakarian," Shepard laughs, despite their failure, and the metal poking her palm, "Keep dreaming..."