Deep in the fourth engine, Quinns was lost in his work on the third back-up fuel injector. He had started the project for two reasons. One, the importance of redundant systems. Two, increased fuel efficiency. But this far along into working, he was no longer thinking of either of those things. Nor did he notice the growl of his stomach, not even in the silence of the song changing over.

No, the only thing he was thinking about was getting the injector humming its best song. He was on the last step – tuning the connectors. There was no perfect tightness – every connection had its own idea of right. His job was to get them there. He paused on one that was being particularly difficult.

“Ah, what the hell. Who made you so angry?” He muttered, getting a better grip. The words left his mouth without his knowledge. Something that, if he were paying attention, he would be mortified to find out.

A few more gentle nudges this way, a couple more that way, and finally the connection fell into place. He backed away, wiping his brow and looking over his work. Starting from the right he had tested each of the connections. A few had needed major adjustments, and two needed replacing. He hoped that would cover the issue.

He went over the moving parts next, checking for proper lubrication. The oil canister was still almost full. He tapped his fingers on the tool attached to his right shoulder. The injector must have been out of commission before Heli left home-port over a year ago. Port maintenance filled it, and it went unused. He set up a dry run in the system and started it up.

After that, he would finally be able to remove something from his to-do list. All the tasks he needed to complete to get Heli back to her old self again. It was a long list. Longer still after bored imperials had made a mess of things while hunting for fugitives. His heart rate always went up a tick just thinking about that list. He opened his PD to check it, and his stomach growled something fierce.

Oof, why did his stomach have to jump straight to absolutely starving like that? He opened one of the drawers on his toolbox and withdrew a fruit ration. He popped the release bubble and the wrapper evaporated down to his fingers. Tearing off a large bite, he chewed on it while watching the fuel injector boot up. The bar had a strong tart flavor, but he couldn’t guess the flavor. Something berry from such and such planet. He didn’t bother to check anymore. Condensed down far enough, everything tasted similar. Still, he liked the chewiness of the fruit over the dry rations.

His right arm blinked with a message. That was Gary’s idea – something that might get his attention when he was working. He rolled his eyes and opened his PD with his left hand.

Leak in the bridge rest area. It was from Serge. Quinns felt a pit rise in his stomach. He didn’t know much about bio plumbing except how fast costs would add up. He pushed the feeling back down and started putting his toolkit back together. One thing fixed, another thing added to the list. The pit grew and he stuffed the half-finished fruit bar back into the ration drawer.

“I’ll be there in twenty.” He said, the PD translating it to a message for Serge. He finished cleaning up and took a basic kit with him. Quinns made his way through the service halls. He knew these halls well enough to break out into the main hall near the bridge. He needed time to himself to think and this route was the best way. Even if it was cramped.

In fact, the service halls got fewer and farther between as he got farther from engineering. It didn’t deter him. His mind was on the leak as his feet led the way. A lot of what he knew about Heli’s idiosyncrasies came from following Uncle Cole everywhere. In Heli’s heyday, Cole was the chief engineer. He had known every trick, and Quinns was happy to listen. The longer Quinns’ list of needed fixes got, the more he missed the old man.

Quinns stepped out into the main hall only a few feet from the entrance to the bridge. There were no two ways about it, he thought, as he waved his hand over the scanner. First, he would have a look at the problem. Glean what he could, and then he’d look for tutorials. It had to get done, and Gary was depending on him.

The doors to the bridge slid open. His work rarely took him this way and he avoided it when he could. It wasn’t fear or dislike. He could admire the symmetrical design and clean curves anytime. It was memories that weighed the room down. Quinns noticed Gary’s head sticking out over the back of the Captain’s chair. He was facing away, towards the docks outside the window.

“Hey, Gary.” He called. Gary didn’t turn his way.

“Hey Quinns,” Gary answered, his voice distracted. The scene was familiar, but it set Quinns on edge. Gary liked spending his quiet time on the bridge. Quinns imagined it gave Gary the same kind of nostalgia as Quinns felt in the bay office. That was where the similarity ended. Quinns kept himself busy – never enough time to dwell too long on what had been. For Gary, too long with that nostalgia could reveal its dark side. When Gary didn’t say anything else, Quinns felt compelled to check.

“You alright?” He asked, pausing for an answer. This time Gary turned to look at him. His PD was open in his hand, and an insulated mug was in his lap. He looked exhausted, but he nodded anyway.

“Yeah. I’m getting some reading in while it is peaceful.” He said, closing out his PD and resting his hand on the armrest.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Quinns said, and Gary smiled. Good, that was good, Quinns thought.

“Made better by the busy times.” He said. His eyes traveled over the consoles, his focus on something far away. Quinns felt he needed to say something quick. He rolled his eyes with a shrug.

“I’ve got enough “busy time” to last a lifetime. Keep that stuff away from me.” He said, only half-joking. The joke fell flat, and Gary’s eyebrow raised. Nothing like concern to snap Gary right back to the present.

“You will talk to me if it gets overwhelming, right?” He asked. Quinns waved the concern away, turning to the rest area. He didn’t want to get into that conversation. Not right now.

“Yeah. Course I will.” Quinns could practically hear Gary’s brow creasing. “Don’t worry, Gary.” He added.

“Uh-huh. Right.” Gary said, but Quinns could still feel the stare burning into his back. He tried to keep his pace normal – whatever that is – and entered the break-room. When the door slid shut behind him, he couldn’t help a small sigh of relief. He was alone for a moment, and he gathered his wits.

Feeling calmer, he noticed one of the bathroom doors open. He walked over and peeked inside. Serge was kneeling beside the toilet, working on something behind it. He looked over as Quinns got close, and stood up, taking a couple of steps back.

“Yui reminded me there were a couple of bathrooms up here. Figured they would need cleaning.” He frowned dusting off his hands. “This one’s got a leak. It’s an old one.” His frustration was clear in his voice. Quinns set down the tool kit and leaned over the seat to get a better look behind it. “Looks like there is a clog further down the pipe,” Serge added.

“Probably,” Quinns said, only half-listening as he checked the area. Film from dried water, hints of mold. He was almost afraid to look underneath.