The Machine Shop - Eidolon Wraith

[Enkidu]

Nesrin grimaced at the visualisation panel. The problem seemed intractable, a certainty of physics so easy to bend in under the vice of imagination and so difficult to manipulate with mere fingers. For a start, there was nothing to grab.

:: Lightrider becomes progressively more inefficient the more you miniaturise the design. There becomes a cutoff point where magnetic bottle’s inefficiencies outweigh the advantages compared to a standard fusion drive - which is a damn shame since I need that extra amount of active current if I’m going to jimmy a positron reactor into this Hellfire chunk of junk. ::


The bion stared at the wireframe of the Prosecutor, the mass variables stacking around her in the three dimensional workspace.

:: Most of the propulsive cooling lattice can be chopped away - the propellant cooling pumps too. A larger magnetic turbo pump means more barstardry. I’m not sure even a wizard would have a sufficient pixie dust quota to jam the Lightrider in here - will keep working on schemata.::

Amidst the jumbled nexus of the cooling lattice, nanoginders shrieked out polymer scale models of her reactor design, reconsuming them in the fires of creation. The heat would have singed the microfine hairs from her face and blistered her skin pulpy if there had been any real flesh on her metalled bones.

:: I feel like a surgeon, trying to implant an artificial heart the size of a schoolbus. ::

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THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)

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