[b][center][h2][color=magenta]Reya Wyatt[/color][/h2][/center][/b]

All of the mechs had a certain personality about them, particularly when broken down to their base components, whether it was a large laser, a missile rack or the delicate arrangement of systems around the gyro designed to interpret the pilot’s sense of balance. Ziska’s [i]Raven[/i] still had a sleek “newness” about it despite how ruggedly she treated it while Ingrid’s [i]Ostroc[/i] was old and grumpy and seemed to hate everything, including basic maintenance. Both [i]Hawk[/i]’s had a similar feel almost like they were brothers. They were soldier’s mechs, agreeable and made to be serviced. They suited Tarak and Raven respectively. Marit’s Archer was similar with a likewise “male” presence that fit its casual nickname, but bigger and stout to carry its payload on the shoulders. At some point in her time with the Knights’ Reya had seen the inner workings of each of them and knew their quirks, however there was one that remained. One she hadn’t managed to get her hands on and the curiosity pecked at the back of her mind for a long time. Now that they were free from the caves and in semi-proper facilities with morale higher than it had been in weeks, it was to see if Aroxy would acquiesce. 

Unlike the battlemechs, the Von Luckner was [i]pure machine[/i]. Grease, gears and guts fitted together on a Star League assembly line. The complex systems she was used to seeing of feeding ammo and maintaining balance were absent- Even the original autoloader had been removed. The thick aroma of diesel from the backup engine permeated everything inside the turret along with the chemical smell of spent ammunition and the somewhat colorful aroma of the regular crew. However, none of this bothered Reya in the slightest. Long ago she could remember seeing some passing article about “hot rod culture” and how the denizens of that hobby threw away their disposable income souping up land vehicles. The idea didn’t make a lot of sense at the time, but as soon as she stepped down through the hatch and had a look around, it was the first thing that came to mind. Her smile was wide and it unexpectedly felt like coming back to the familiar. She wasn’t a soldier or a spy, she was an [i]engineer[/i]. This was correct. Her mind soaked in the machine. The turret was past-due for an overhaul, particularly after the last action and she was going to make sure the next round out of the barrel departed at no less than factory velocity, maybe even a little more.    

Tarak’s gifted stereo [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7xxgRUyzgs0]blasted overhead[/url]. In the open air, against the competing noises of the scrapyard, she could turn up the volume much louder than in the caves, loud enough to be heard with the tank’s hatch open. It was warm down in the hull of the machine and her lips mouthed the lyrics as she worked: [color=magenta][i]You gave me fortune, you gave me fame… You gave me power in your god’s name…[/i][/color]. Black soot from the main gun smudged her arms and she attempted to carefully wipe away a bead of sweat with the back of her wrist. Their new hosts had provided a proper technician’s coveralls, albeit large, so she didn’t have to ruin any more of her clothes with stains and snags though she had rolled and tied the top half at her waist to give herself more freedom of movement leaving her upper body covered by a black sports bra. Her hair, pulled up in a ponytail, brushed against her back feeling as weighty and laden with perspiration and grime as the rest of her exposed skin, but it was fine. Things were getting better. They were going to get Lena back and they were going to link up with the FPA and they were going to put their enemies in the ground. Not to mention [i]they now had a nuclear warhead.[/i] The thoughts were energizing and she nodded to herself that the tides were rapidly beginning to turn. 

Someone shut off the music instantly drawing a momentary arched eyebrow of irritation, however the unexpected silence that followed drew her face up towards the hatch in a narrowed glance.

“Meetin’s on [i]sugar-tits[/i].” Takka’s rugged visage popped over the edge of the hatch blotting out the otherwise blue sky above.  

Reya stared back blankly at the boney face grinning towards her from above. He offered a slimy hand to help her up the ladder, but she handed him a wrench instead and climbed out.

The outside air felt great, but instantly she recognized the sudden tension in the air and immediately looked first for Sunny, finding some relief when she saw her scurrying across the yard away from a gathering at a holovid.

“Hope ‘Cap knew what he was doin’, lettin’ you service the gun.” Takka said teasingly enough though there was a hint of a jab in the comment. 

“[color=magenta]Just worry about hitting what you’re aiming at.[/color]” Reya replied. She pulled off the spent pair of black rubber gloves she’d been wearing and stuffed them in Takka’s chest before wiping away a smudge she could feel on the side of her face and looking for Tarak. 

Still holding the wrench, Takka accepted the gloves with toothy chuckle and eased his gaze down Reya’s back while her glance turned toward the Phoenix Hawk. “Some things are hard to miss.”  
 
Reya shook her head and rolled her eyes. Whatever this was about, she wouldn’t mind a small break to stretch her legs a bit and get some fresh air. Another walk, even a short stroll around the mechbays would be perfect. She looked at Tarak for a moment while he didn't notice her, watching him work. As much as she loved Sunny, she hadn’t realized how much she needed some semblance of [i]normal adult interaction[/i] that wasn't heavy drinking or military talk. It was almost therapeutic. “[color=magenta]What’s going on?[/color]”

[@Th3King0fChaos]