The Repair Deck - Tarancon Base, Omicron Minor

[Stoner_Steve]

Tarancon base sat on the literal edge of humanity. Beyond the edge of what even Zoners would dare travel. But just because the Zoners wouldn’t travel this far didn’t mean there wasn’t a credit or five to be made.

Rob had been on Tarancon very nearly since it had been slapped together and pressurized but most of his duties kept him confined to the repair portion of the flight deck and with working the night shift it meant he was usually assigned a lot of the general maintenance that the other two shifts wouldn’t pick up. But every now and again something special would come along that the other two shifts wouldn’t even get to see. These sorts of projects either required attention to detail, or careful consideration. Both of which were often in short supply on the rookie day shifts.

He paused in a darkened corner of the repair deck. A sealed container had just some of the needed supplies for this project he had ordered, now only if the fighter would arrive he could start to asses the damage.