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The [i]Gladius[/i] was a fine ship; advanced and weaponised to the rafters. The bridge, where they'd entered, was all harsh blues and sullen grays. Fitting, Henri thought, for its crew. She approached a work station and brought up the ship's plan. The armory on the first floor would be a hot spot whilst the others collected their weapons. Henri had other things on her mind. 

There was no workshop to speak of, but in the bowels of the ship was the engineering deck. It would have everything she needed. She glanced over the room one last time. Most people were dispersing. Callum, of course, had naturally fallen into the leadership role. Henri had no issue, he had been a fine commander, but she wondered if anyone else would have something to say. Quietly (for once), she slipped away.

Henri let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in when she reached the engineering deck. The clang of her footsteps echoed eerily down the hallway. Normally a place like this would be buzzing with engineers bringing in cargo, maintaining the FTL and sub-light engines, monitoring the environmental systems. Here, instead, the walls were lit up with the steady green lights of automated systems and repairs. Ships were slowly moving this way but even the best required a small engineering crew. The [i]Gladius[/i] was truly a next generation ship. Still, they'd need someone for damage control and repairs that machines could not yet replace (well, at least not [i]full[/i] machines). [i]I can do that,[/i] Henri thought. 

Despite the odd misplaced, the thrum of energy felt like home. 

Henri sat down at a solitary work station and carefully placed her arm on the table. They'd made a meal of her circuitry. She gathered what she needed to restore it, pleasantly surprised by the provisions. Clearly, Mr White had anticipated her need as there were carefully labelled boxes of parts that were hardly necessary for a ship's running. She hummed as she worked. 

During her work she peeled away the layer of synthetic skin, there was no need for it anymore. No need to blend in, not in this crowd. Unlike her legs, which were simply fit for purpose (speed and power), her [url=https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/34/9d/84/349d847330bc536a33007c5fb50c806a.jpg]arm[/url] was [i]elegant[/i]. As close to a human replication that anyone would ever achieve with machine, with delicate tendons and wired-nerves all encased in a white nanocarbon plating. The exceptions being her own adjustments; the reinforced, charged vice-like fingers, and the battery in the upper arm which allowed a punch with enough force to kill a grown man. Henri watched as it slowly hummed back to life, fingers twitching until they could make a fist. She slumped back into the chair, satisfied. It was a relief, not only to have her main weapon returned to her, but also [i]sensation[/i]. 

She was desperate to try it out, feel that power again. If she remembered correctly, the plans had shown a training room...