Arthur nodded back at Gwen and left the kitchen right after her. He made his way over to the Cauldron at a leisurely pace. He saw Gwen lurking near his hammock. Arthur didn't bother with the carts, he liked to take his sweet time walking. So she had already been waiting a little bit. He gave her a wave right before the intercom sounded off with Kaplan's voice bossing them about. He looked at Gwen, deadpan, before he spoke again. "Holiday. File a repair log. Current date and time, Cauldron intercom is only playing static." This was absolutely not true. He just didn't feel like dismounting his back assembly in order to crawl around in some fucking tunnel. Also Cross would [b]not[/b] be playing with the auto-diag system on the combi-harvester. One of his spines with a screw-head made quick work of the metal panel covering the power exchange to the intercom. While he fiddled with it nonchalantly he looked at Gwen and spoke to her, "Do what you want lass, but I'm not going down there today." He chuckled. "And I've just given you a free excuse as well. Help yourself to some coffee if you want, you know where it is. I trust you've made the delivery? Any requests?" He rapidly disconnected and reconnected the intercom power pin. The light sparked off then back on and it beeped as it came back to life. "Holiday, update the repair log from 3 minutes ago: physical contact interference within the intercom was causing the static feedback. Intercom is now useable again." 

He flashed her a smirk and made his way into the Cauldron proper. He glanced over at the counter with the jar on it. That made him grin. He examined the note. Slightly saddening, but not world-shattering. He turned his attention to the harvester. He had a hunch what the issue was. Nine out of ten times when a machine had a problem that couldn't be picked up by the autorepair routines it was because the autorepair module itself was damaged. And that was either a few simple wire changes or an in-depth, all-day, elbow deep in oil, full disassembly and close examination job. Arthur hope it was the first one but was prepared for the second option. He started by thumbing a button on his keyfob, it summoned the auto-dolly to his side. The auto-dolly was a pretty gucci piece of kit. The small wheels made it unfortunately unusable in most of the dome. But as long as the floor was smooth and flat and clear, he could sit or lay on the auto-dolly and zip around the workshop on it. It could even raise him up to the ceiling. Along with being incredibly useful, it amused him greatly.

He raised the platform up to the top of the harvester, he anchored himself to the ceiling with two appendages and zoomed his optics in onto the diags module. It sat atop the harvester with a dainty little antenna poking out. Nothing was wrong with the exterior. His screw-head appendage zipped the bolts out of the unit and took the cover off. Aha. There was the issue. Someone had twisted one of wires during assembly. It hadn't been an immediate issue, but over 3 years of motion had compounded the issue and eventually it had sheered clean due to mechanical stress. Hopefully a simple replacement and care taken to install it properly would prevent something like this for a very long time. He retracted his anchor appendages and lowered the dolly. The longest part of the job was trawling through the smart-racks to hunt for a pristine replacement. He found it after a few minutes and repositioned himself atop the harvester. He replaced the wire quickly and tested it with his smart sensor. It seemed all clear so he reapplied the cover and did a full system reboot. This part would take a couple minutes.

He made his way to his official counter. The one Gwen had left his delivery on. He cracked the jar open and took a deep sniff of the dried leaves. Sweet and rich. The smell was very nostalgic. He rummaged around in one of the drawers and dug out a white ceramic 3D printed pipe. It was modelled on the ones used traditionally by the indigenous Americans. The stem had been snapped about halfway. He tore off less than a third of a leaf and crumbled it up into the bowl of the pipe. He stepped out of the cauldron and pulled at the lighter he kept on a lanyard on his keyfob and lit the pipe. He inhaled the thick wicked smoke. It had been a few days since his last hit so he immediately felt the buzz. He cleared the bowl and stood enjoying the pleasant weather and heady feeling for a moment or two before the harvester beeped back to life. He tapped the white ash out onto the concrete causeway before stepping back into the workshop. 

The noise of screws retightening themselves would always remain peculiar to Arthur. It seems like the diagnostics unit had been down for at least a couple days before the system picked it up, there were a lot of loose screws readjusting themselves. As the unit finished it's maintenance routines Arthur listened to Holiday's report and winced. He hadn't noticed the smell while he was above the harvester but now as he was beside it he could smell the scent of acrid grease. He stopped and observed the bothersome drip of dark oil. Bastard. More work to be done.