[h2]John[/h2]

There was a saying somewhere. John racked his brain for what it was; the exact words eluding him. His mind churning as he leaned further into the partially dissembled engine cowling. A haphazardly arrayed formation of parts from his shuttle and the missing colony ship's shuttle (from the bay the assault shuttle now occupied) lay on the deck around the disabled engine. 

[i]'How did it go again?[/i]' He thought futilely as he cut away a debris scored section of engine. The edges jagged and impacting. '[i]Life's path's are numerous as they are unexpected?[/i]' 

It was a cheesy quote. He remembered the first time he saw it; a book of short stories his tutor had given him. Colorful images with moral tales for a more innocent time. Back then he had wondered at the absurdity of it. His father had told a young John what his purpose would be. His place in the grand scheme of things. Where he would start and end. 

Now here he was. Family and friends dead. Fleeing his homeworld for the notion of a fresh start somewhere. Working on a spaceframe he had help perfect with none of the parts he needed off-hand. 

The unappealing screech of metal resounded as John he pulled the culprit, a piece of debris, from where it had impacted a heat exchange. He sighed as he looked over the index finger size junk of jagged metal. 

The debris had threaded two different needles. Through a gap in armor and an intake to disable the engine. Impossible luck that had led to John spending his waking off-hours in this bay. Trying to repair and jury-rig the engine. A task that was about on par with nudging a colony ship along with minimal training.

The clomp of approaching boots had John give a resigned sigh; the pilot wiggling his way out of the engine's inner to see who intruded into his brief and small domain. The pilot having donned a fresh flightsuit from his shuttle's locker; the green jumpsuit pulled to his waist. A necessary move given the coating of grease and carbon that clung to his face and limbs. The pilot finally pulling himself out to crouch just above the engine's access port; surveying the shuttle bay's visitor. 

[@Pragia12]