Mechanics Story

“I can’t get this panel loose, hand me the flex-head.”

Mechanics develop a natural rhythm and, in seconds, the ratchet was in his hand.

“Oh sweet Jesus, Sarge, the fusion coils are growing fur.” “Happens. Gotta hit it with the blowtorch.” A horrid odor spread across the room as the blowtorch sputtered on and off. It took two fuel canisters and thirty minutes before they could return to their original task.

“This thing needs a total diagnostic, Sarge; we really need a radio down here.”

For a long time they worked in silence, interrupted by the occasional high-pitched whine of a sonic transducer.

“You gotta fish story, Sarge?” “You heard the one about the Venusian vix-“ “Yeah, I heard the one about the vixens. What else you got?”"“Well, you’re elbow deep in Stimson’s ship. I ever tell you how he got his call sign?”"“Can’t say as I’ve heard that one.”

The conversation was arrested during the delicate task of applying a carbon-epoxy matrix but it was renewed without difficulty. “We were orbiting Jupiter when a couple of crustheads opened fire on us.” “Opened fire on you in contact range of Jupiter construct?” “They got sense to match their looks but these two bastards were lucky. Our plasma cannon blew a fuse and took the lasers with it.” The mechanic stopped sanding for a moment and the room fell silent. “Well, we’re out there pinned down and taking a schoolyard beating when Jim jumps up and grabs both sides of the burned out wiring; fuse connected and the first shot tore the enemy in half.” “Shit. Are you being for real with me?” “I’ll never forget it. Captain looked up as cool as anything and said, ‘God damn, Stimson, you must have copper balls.’”