Adam sat in the cockpit, his usual clarity replaced by distraction and made murky with pain. He could feel the ache of the new actuators deep in his bones, his limbs sore as if they were deeply bruised all over. He was held in place, yet he was free, he sat unbound in his pilot seat, paradoxically restrained by the service racks as All Nerves concluded it's maintenance checks. The racks released, and the sensation of weight returned to it's legs. Adam gasped, his face a grimace of pain, as his eyes watered and his jaw clenched.
...All I need to know is, are they going to make it?
Adam snapped out of his dreamlike state to the sound of a socket wrench tapping against an interior panel. His eyes tracked downwards and met someone else's. It took him a moment to get his bearings, and he recognized Ryan, his sensor technician. "Call came in, Andrew wants you at holo ASAP." Adam nodded as he extricated himself from All Nerves, climbing out of the seat with slow, deliberate movements. Everything still ached, but his expression hardened. "Is the overhaul done?" Ryan nodded as Adam followed him across the boarding ramp and onto the catwalk. "Just need to load the guns and you'll both be mission-ready. You ok?" Adam grunted, rolling his shoulders. "Ghost pains." Ryan nodded and stepped out of the way. "Good luck, boss."
Adam wasted little time getting to the holo-room, ignoring most of the passers-by, and returning the occasional greeting with a nod. As he opened the door, he found himself motionless as he surveyed the room. Chairs were strewn about in a chaotic jumble, with little rhyme or reason applied. Several of the chairs were occupied by plants stolen from the corners of the room, and at the center, untouched, was the holo-table and the squad leader he had been assigned to, Andrew. He entered and took a position opposite the pale-haired young man, scanning the portions of the room he hadn't been able to see from the doorway. Halfway across the room he again stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes locked onto what he could only describe as someone clearly suffering from some kind of psychosis, wearing a pumpkin mask. He stood and stared for several heartbeats before continuing to the table.
"Is there a reason for this room's state, or is... that a pilot?"
