Kelvin had retreated to his workshop the moment recruitment duties released him, grateful for the familiar chaos of scattered components and half-finished projects. KROME sat on the primary workbench in pieces, the left arm actuator disassembled for the third time this week because something about the joint assembly still wasn't sitting right.
He was elbow-deep in servo calibrations when the door opened. Diana walked in carrying two bottles of something that looked like beer but probably wasn't, given Eclipse's supply situation.
"Thought you might need this," she said, setting one bottle beside his workspace.
"You're a saint." Kelvin took a long drink, the carbonation burning pleasantly. "Please tell me you're here to distract me from the fact that I've rebuilt this actuator seventeen times and it's still making a noise that shouldn't exist."
