The docking bay.

[Guest]

The young man looked up at her, crouched once more next to the open engine, pondering who was the bright man to make the bolts unscrew from the Inside of the ship and smiled a little.

I have been working on a few things..so I needed the rest, i guess, this ship is not the best, no, but believe me it is something for darker days i am willing to prepare for if something happens.

He stood up and stretched as well, a few pops heard running down his neck and back, making him grimace just a little. Mort smiled and pointed at the other ships in the LR wing's docking bay. A Barghest, a Warewolf, a few peaces, which once were a pirate train, only the captain's bridge and engines remained, a rusty looking Greyhound as well.

All need some fixing...and I am not allowing the other mechanics touch them. Those ships are my work, so if I wont be the one who tends to them, I won't recognize them in flight.

He shook his head some and took off his mechanic's vest, clings of nuts and bolts and other instruments heard in the multiple pockets of the stained clothing, revealing a bit less then average muscled frame, normal to those who grow too fast.

I wonder..will i be asked to fix that damn cooler..or will Tom do the honors, he knows i am busy with things...you too look on the warm side

He added in an almost fatherly way, before reaching for a peace of cloth and began to clean his palms, noting not to rub too hard over the few bruises here and there, before he reached for a bottle of acetone and began to wash his hands with it.