"This is Sabah Shipyard to Colonial, Lieutenant Salem Jansen, you are cleared to dock."
Such is what was said by the Sabah dockmaster for the third time today, the same Nyx sliding into position for the docking bay thrice over. It seemed the pilot was busy doing something, running around, when he should otherwise be enjoying a momentary period of rest. However, Salem liked to keep himself busy, and he had something to gain of running around anyway.
The docking clamps latched to the colonial's vessel, and brought it to rest on the hover pads within the main docking hub on Sabah. As soon as the ship settled, Salem brought all systems to standby, and hopped out of the vessel's cockpit, carrying with him what seemed to be a large suitcase. He moved with dedication, plodding along the various crates and equipment pallets, and into the base's framework elevators, going down along the thin catwalks, and eventually arriving at the main hub for offloading of larger ships, and capital maintenance.
Before him were various mechanics an engineers, working on generously large portions of the internals of ships. One particular one caught his eye; working on an engine for a Celestra removed from its place and hauled inside for a complete tune-up, so it seemed. Salem let off a slight sigh, and walked forward, skirting around the sparks and myriad scrap on the base floor, stepping over bulky wires for large pieces of equipment, and approached the engineer he though could assist him.
He set the suitcase down as soon as he was within an acceptable conversation distance, and waited for the the preferred mechanic to finish his immediate task at hand; taking out a rather burnt up part from the engine that seemed to have been stuck, with the loud CLUNK that came from the maintenance port, and the mechanic nearly falling off of his ladder. After that, Salem spoke;
Sam was still slightly numbed by the earlier blunt sound he just received from fixing the Celestra's engine, but through the background noise in the maintenance floor, he clearly heard a new voice calling for someone.
Looking downwards, Sam noticed a rather strange looking figure in Colonial colours, having a suitcase placed at his feet and looking straight at him. "Talkin' to me, lad? What do ya' need?"
The strange figure smiled toothily, and quickly bent down to pluck the suitcase off the ground. "Yes, hello!" He spoke. "Salem Jansen is the name-- and as an aside, I swear you were the exact engineer to work on my Nyx." He waved dismissively.
"Regardless, you, sir, I would like to ask a question about, regarding ship maitinence. Seeing as you're the only I've seen in here working on smaller vessels' equipment, I thought you would be the right person to talk to."
He brought the suitcase to chest level and held it flat, popping the clasps and opening it up. Inside was neatly organized papers, holodisks, and memory chips of various magnitude. On inspection of the papers, it appeared to be a torn pre-flight manual for an... Agama? Salem waited for the engineer to look over the papers from a distance, before lowering the suitcase to speak over it.
"If you couldn't tell already, this favour involves a peice of tech not native to the Republic. Specifically, an MJ-2 Agama vessel." He closed the suitcase, and set it down again.
"If I am to get one of these-- and I do intend to with permission from high command, I will need to know that I can have a mechanic that will be able to maintain the ship and weapons to at least some serviceable state, given enough documentation."
He nudged the suitcase towards Sam with a bare foot. "If needed, I'll gladly, personally accomodate you with wahatever payment for this you see fit, as well as continue feeding you what information I can gather on the ship. What do you say?"
Sam first glanced over the contents of the suitcase with curiosity, but being quite far he couldn't actually understand what was inside. The moment he heard Salem mention the name "Agama", however, was an instant flash for him. He quickly jumped off the ladder onto the floor, then stood up promptly and started listening intently.
It took him a second to take in everything that Salem said, but Sam pushed the suitcase near the ladder with his left foot, then walked forward and replied. "Now that's an interesting idea you've got there. Now... payment's no need, lad; we help our pilots because we want to, not for cash."
His tone began to lower slightly, showing a bit of insecurity, but also interest "Honestly, i'm honoured that you felt like picking me for this job. And... I'll gladly do it. Still, I guess i'll have to look over these notes in detail. The only things i know about an Agama are the tales i hear from various jocks in the 15th.
Either way - i guess you can leave these papers with me and find your S.O. to get a green light. You can call me Samwell, by the way." he finished, while extending his hand in hopes of a handshake.
