Battle slave. What the fuck. Devero clenches his teeth and makes a determined effort not to let that throw him as he looks through his Interface and zooms in on the electronics.
"Vice and virtue," he swears softly. "You're lucky that shot didn't burn this out." The damage is obvious. The field-repair is obvious too, but it makes his mechanic's heart clench to see what should be clean circuity looking so jerry-rigged. It's almost enough to distract him from, you know, the fact that this thing is a legitimate and complex transcytokinetic Implant.
"I'd like to strip and replace some of this damaged wiring," he says, switching his Interface camera back to normal magnification. He straightens up and steps back. "Everything looks functional but I don't know that I'd call it stable."
no subject
"Vice and virtue," he swears softly. "You're lucky that shot didn't burn this out." The damage is obvious. The field-repair is obvious too, but it makes his mechanic's heart clench to see what should be clean circuity looking so jerry-rigged. It's almost enough to distract him from, you know, the fact that this thing is a legitimate and complex transcytokinetic Implant.
"I'd like to strip and replace some of this damaged wiring," he says, switching his Interface camera back to normal magnification. He straightens up and steps back. "Everything looks functional but I don't know that I'd call it stable."