Stonehearth mods unit frame activity3/6/2023 Their money and possibly even services are typically welcomed, even though the guards will barely tolerate their presence and won’t hesitate to drag off anyone caught sharing ‘undesirable ideals’ with the locals. Outsiders visiting an Apex settlement are rare enough, making it a rather exciting occurrence. Cleaning the console wasn’t difficult, but at least it was tedious and time-consuming enough to eat up the rest of the day. It turned out that the light simply needed a new bulb, and the pilot needed to stop eating Lucky Dip in the cockpit. With the tank filled, I quickly located the flickering light and spoke to the pilot before he went on shore leave. Given that the soldiers weren’t exactly paragons of our people, I gave them a wide berth as they unloaded their cargo. The Lieutenant and her officers cleared out, and I filled up a few containers of Erchius fuel. That explained the mishmash of soldiers, being all reassigned troublemakers. “File it under Lieutenant Lana Blake, 117th Disciplinary Platoon.” Not the kind of work I’d spent years studying for, but I couldn’t complain. Fill up the tank, fix the flickering light in the hold and clean the sticky buttons in the cockpit. Upon reaching her, I snapped to a salute. But the second she was done, the woman waved me over. It gave me more than enough time to flick through my semi-censored copy of Routine Aeronautical Repair Procedures for Dummies to look busy. There were the usual security checks, biosecurity examinations and payment arrangements to go through with the spaceport authorities, all while I waited at my assigned post. She was escorted by at least a dozen soldiers and the odd officer, seemingly from different units based on their patches. There was a distinct air of discipline about her, with the scar across her right eye speaking volumes about her hardiness. She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties, and was much taller than I regardless. She was wearing a meticulously kept uniform, and a scarf that was definitely not in accordance with dress regulations. Which is why the unannounced arrival of a high-ranking MiniKnog officer and a group of random soldiers seemed all the more unusual. And even then, supply shipments and personnel rotation are hardly noteworthy at all. I know better than to ask questions about the latter, but it’s usually easy to surmise why they’ve come. And life under the MiniKnog meant I can’t risk walking around with my eyes skyward.Īs backwater as my hometown may be, the spaceport sees its fair share of traffic from commercial and military flights. I’d heard what happened to those who try to dissent. I’d seen their figurehead’s face everywhere I turned. I’d felt the jackboot of the regime that had oppressed my people for centuries. The reason he told me this was because in spite of having spent my adult life repairing starships, I hadn’t actually flown before. Some years ago, during my early work as a mechanic, a Human trader told me a quote from one of his people’s great thinkers “Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.”
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