Jax fervently swore in a dozen languages. He payed no attention as to whether the words were actually swear words.
A sandy-furred alien, Kuust, popped his head out of the "manhole," which was what the engineers of Ninth Galaxy called the large underfloor lab.
"What's the matter Jax?" He pinned his ears back against his head because of Jax's blasphemy.
"I'm sorry, but my mechanical talent went down the hyperspace chute."
"I know what you mean. It's happened."
"Ah, they made a mistake..." Jax's talent, sometimes said with a capital T, was literally discovered as a punishment. He was on a penal colony and had been forced to fix the station's many broken and antique machines.
After coming to Ninth Galaxy, five years ago, he'd lost a lot of his anger. What was left was an easygoing mechanic who knew a starship like his own mind.
Kuust stirred him from his memories. "It's time to go. The shift's up."
"O-k, blindfold me. I hate that ether-lithium converter." Jax quickly regained his wit.
