Incursion Vector

043

[▲] INS Robert A. Heinlein, Alenquer Waypoint

"So... dare I ask how you managed to land it looking like that?"

Glancing sidelong at where Russell stood funneling coffee down his throat Nim replied, "Elite skills and electromagnets."

Rolling his eyes at her answer he flicked at the bottom of his now-empty cup, sending a steady beat of dull plunking sounds echoing through the near-empty hangar. "Not really a whole lot left, is there."

"Nope."

The man swiped at his chin a few times with his thumb, then waived his hands at the SIF and shook his head. "This is why no one gives marines nice things."

Nim sneered at him. "You know, seeing as how I survived the jump and the ten minutes of enemy kiting that followed, while killing off six fighters, I think I deserve a little more credit here."

"You know, seeing as how I told you not to take the strafe trajectory into the gate and you went and did it anyway," muttered Russell as he slammed his empty cup on his mobile console and then stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jumpsuit, "I think I am going to keep being an asshole."

"Prick."

"Brat."

"Crotchety old bastard."

"Snarky little bitch."

"Grow the fuck up, both of you." Kilmore dropped himself off the back of the SIF's half-ruined engine assembly and discarded his safety gloves in a pile already formed earlier by the deck crew. "We can pull the cockpit module and drop in the MK-2 frame once Xia and Yaya have it loaded out later today. It's fine."

"We need to have a word about those stupid omnidirectional thrusters again," said Nim with a scowl. "As in, none of them on the centerline. Low-draw single-direction only, ventral and dorsal, at least dual redundancy. Your fancy ones all froze up just like I told you they would."

"You weren't exactly supposed to be flying the SIF through a bloody ice field," retorted the bearded man defensively. "Or skip her off a damn asteroid."

"It's a fighter. It's meant to take damage."

"It's meant to be shot at, not slammed against space rocks. And this," he flung an open hand towards the wingless SIF, "qualifies as destruction, not damage. For future reference."

"Seriously, does it look like I can psychically predict someone hijacking a fucking waypoint and dropping it in some system's Kuiper belt?"

"Why didn't you just FTL out in the first place?"

Crossing her arms against her chest she growled, "Because someone. Hijacked. The. WAYPOINT. You know what would've happened to Heinlein if she jumped into the area? I'm not going to go hide in the black when my ship's in mortal danger."

The propulsion specialist sighed and rubbed at his eyes tiredly. "Fine. I'll take a look at the metrics from the ESI and see what I can do. The wing thrusters are mounted to the frame though so they aren't going anywhere."

"Thank you." She glanced at her computer. "Debrief. Gotta go."

Russell snagged her by a shoulder pocket as she turned to head back to the opposite side of the ship. "MacNamara."

"Yeah?"

"Good job not dying."

She grinned. "Awww, you do care!"