Human Edge

With a lot of folks out on various exploration and salvage missions, the mech hangar seemed almost ghostly quiet in comparison to usual.

But in one mech bay, Bruun was talking to Blondie in what sounded like the prelude to a breakup.

"Blondie, girl, we gotta talk..."

Looking around the hangar petite Colette, surveying a place for the brewery equipment. She didn't want to fill the kitchen with that smell in her kitchen. The girl was quiet.

A man with sensitive ears, Bruun might have heard very faint footsteps in the hangar, but he was somewhat engrossed in his conversation.

"You did great work yesterday, my girl," Bruun says, patting the mech's left leg where new armor had been affixed to replace what got trashed in battle. "You kept me safe, and you helped me keep the others safe too. It was a hell of a thing," Bruun says, clearly amazed at their luck.

Colette tried to keep a giggle for herself. She didn't mean it to be offensive just a reflex of her part.

Bruun's ears perk up now, and he peeks out of Blondie's bay.

"Oh, Miss Colette. Welcome to the hangar," he says kindly, unconcerned if she overheard him speaking to his mech. "Anyone I can help you find?"

"Alo monsieur Bruun... I am not really looking for someone more of someplace." She smiled "I am planing on making some beer."

"Beer and pancakes?" Bruun says absent-mindedly. Marry this woman.

"I mean, uh, beer sounds great. How can I help? I already knew you're a great chef, but a great brewer too?" Bruun smiles at her admiringly.

"I know ze basics but never tried to brew somezing myself." She giggled. "Better late zan never, right?" She smiled. "I need a warm dark place... but engineering is out of ze question. So I zoght zere might be a place around here."

Bruun scratches his beard thoughtfully. "Well... can't say that this seems like the best place in my experience. I mean, dark, sure, but warm ain't really what mech bays are known for." He thinks some more. "Do you know how warm you need? I ain't much use here -- I'm only the drinker, not the brewer," he says with a roguish smile.

"Not too warm and not too cold. I know is not much of a measure but just a goldilocks thing." She giggled.