With the start of a new day, the Junkers descended upon the 'Reverie' once more.
The replacement power core was almost fully installed,
and Life Support showed its first signs of life when run on a power generator the previous day.
Ian and his crew worked harder, and louder, much to the chagrin of almost everybody on Freeport 1.
The noise was reaching a level that seemed too loud to be allowed.
But with each passing hour, the interior paneling took shape, and the replacement power core
was nearer and nearer to being fit for testing.
Everything was looking promising to Ian.
But, as nothing can ever go perfectly, the Life Support began to malfunction once again, almost as soon as the
new power core was activated for the first time.
This time was more dangerous, however, as a toxic-smelling smoke began pouring through the ventilation,
forcing the Junkers to wear breathing gear.
Large make-shift signs had now been posted at all entryways onto the ship, which were now sealed off:
WARNING!
TOXIC GASSES
NO ENTRY WITHOUT
BREATHING APPARATUS
NO EXCEPTIONS
YOU WILL DIE
Ian directed his entire crew to quickly finish the interior paneling,
so work on the out of control Life Support could begin before it choked them all,
breathers or not.
As the last panel was put in place, Ian breathed a sigh of relief,
his visor fogging up with the moisture in his breath. Alright folks, now we move on to Life Support.
Make this infernal thing stop spewing smoke, any way you can.
I'll be back...I forgot my flask, and I need a drink."
Without so much as looking back, he made his way off the 'Reverie', and down to the bar for his fix,
removing only his breather helmet, but leaving the rest of the suit on.
He entered the bar with his helmet held at his side.
The bartender gave him a dirty look and muttered something incomprehensible about noise,
but served him a very full Whiskey on the rocks anyhow.
Ian slowly sipped his glass, finishing only when the ice had completely melted.
He then ordered another drink, a dirty Martini this time, and spent about an hour savoring it.
After finishing his Martini, he paid his tab and made his way back to the 'Reverie',
feeling alive again.
Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when he donned his helmet once more
and stepped back on board, the warning signs still glaring in the face of anyone who approached.
He was amazed.
The air had cleared, and his crew had shed their breathing gear in favor of flimsy filtration masks.
Ian removed his own gear, and asked, trying not to choke on the lingering stench, "So, anyone figure out why the Life Support just tried to smoke us out?"
He paused, then continued. "I thought we nearly had it working."
To which, James, the tall Bretonian Engineer with dreadlocks replied, "You'll never believe it, Ian, but there was a damned chair in the duct work.
No idea how it got there, perhaps in the attack, but there it was.
Damn thing was nothing but a smoldering mess when we found it."
James shook his head in obvious disbelief.
Ian couldn't help but laugh, he had expected it to be something more terrible than a chair.
His crew were giving him a strange look, as though they thought he'd finally cracked.
He didn't care. He had assumed the smoke had a much more troubling source.
Perhaps a short circuit, maybe one of the replacement parts was defective, or something gruesome like a charred body.
But he had to admit that he was glad that a chair was the cause, and not some major malfunction.
The Junkers continued to tweak and put the finishing touches on anything they'd thought they missed.
Ian had to admit, the interior being in one piece again was a good feeling.
It wasn't the prettiest of things yet, the patchwork being quite obvious.
But all in all, the interior was whole again, ready for paint, polish, and whatever furnishings were desired.
Things were going smoother than Ian could have ever hoped they would on a job this big.
Systems functional, computers once again online. Life Support providing clean air.
Short of the exterior paneling and engines, she was ready to fly again.
Ian looked around, taking in the fruits of their labor, and asked himself. "Where the hell is Rob?"
