Aedan's eyes flicked between the two blinking notifications, stopping on the 'invitation' for a second longer- a strange gleam flashed across his eyes. He looked away and selected the flashing Omnitool interface shortcut, prompting a deluge of notifications to auto-display in the center of his HUD as the data packet upload was visibly decompiled through thousands of lines of minuscule code scrawling across the length of his visor at breakneck speed.
A final, smaller window superimposed itself directly over the static lines of code.
The words: 'Authorizing clearance codes... Please stand by...' leisurely appeared in an officious-looking font that was leagues more refined compared to the industrial block font he was used to. The next minute or so was a neatly ordered list of extensive systems checks on the modules running on, or with, the same hardware as the Omnitool.
'Omega Six-HD-Beta OT Clearance codes... Recognized.'
'Authenticating manual security subroutine disengage sequencer... Clear.'
A mildly soothing thrum traveled up his arm following the command line. The sensation was nearly imperceptible, blending into the existing steady vibration traveling down his arm from the energy cell's power transfer process. He only noticed the difference because the vibration traveled in the opposite direction- against the suit's standard power circuit chain. He attributed it to something in the Omnitool's encrypted program packets unlocking and automatically conducting an update.
The following command line took the longest to appear and confirmed his thoughts.
'Full maintenance suite unlocked... Alpha Uerigulon Protocol initiated...' Aedan's brow rose. This was the first time he'd heard of that protocol. He was curious about its functionalities, though he inherently understood it was more advanced than anything he needed to complete this repair. He'd take a look after the boot-up was complete.
'Platform unit installation diagnostic: sub-optimal... Power-saving mode engaged. User Warning: Deactivating power-saving mode may lead to...' Aedan grew more incredulous with every listed side-effect, disaster scenario, and variety of bodily harm available to him if he disregarded the instructions.
'...Guess I'll be leaving that on,' he wryly thought, acknowledging the intrusive series of digital waivers and user warnings.
Navigating down a few more pages to ensure he was getting everything crucial, his vision was promptly filled with various colorful danger symbols and their descriptions, blank legal claim release waivers, and open unit maintenance request forms. He continued going through for another minute before concluding that the remainder of the document was just thousands of pages worth of boiler-plate regulations and procedures that advised how the device should be maintained when operating or storing the unit to keep it optimal in peak working condition. Selecting the Omnitool's operating system shortcut through his HUD caused a bordered panel listing a dozen or so functions, though almost all were grayed out and non-selectable with tiny asterisks in their top right corners, leaving only three options at the very top.
A cursory read-through was all it took for him to see that those three options were a set of generic, everyday use modes for welding, cutting, or interfacing- original functions he needed for the repairs. The rest required all those security clearances, overrides, and installation.
He wondered why Brence had even gone through the trouble. The thought inadvertently drew his gaze to the other blinking notification.
The 'invitation' and the upgrade felt like a package deal. But, of course, they were a package deal. He'd be a fool to think otherwise.
'Does he want me on a retainer?' He suddenly thought, feeling a slight headache coming.
Station politics... He pushed that aside; for now, the first order of business was to crack open this box and check the damage.
The earlier diagnostic results he'd received from the sensor buoy... he rhythmically tapped on the device with a gloved finger as he considered. They'd indicated that his best bet was to activate one of the Omnitool's most basic functions, the plasma cutter, using gaseous nitrogen as the catalyst.
The Omnitool itself, however, could only supply a highly charged current to the tips of his fingers, though each additional outlet placed an exponential strain on the energy cell. Hence, most technicians used their dominant index finger. So for it to also function as a plasma cutter, he needed to attach a small canister of either pure argon, oxygen, or nitrogen gas to a rig on his left bicep, which would supply a controlled, highly pressurized gas flow through the electric arc at his fingertip. This would generate an intense heat upwards of fifteen thousand degrees Celsius depending on the energy cells' output capacity and the gas pressure.
The thought reminded him to check on his oxygen and power supply, which were still decent. Gauging the mag clamps' width, he might've even been able to save himself the hassle of attaching an external gas cartridge from his kit by directly hooking up his oxygen supply if it were still in the green.
Unfortunately, he wasn't so lucky tonight because, assuming nothing else interrupted his work, he had perhaps another two-and-a-half to three hours of oxygen remaining and about half of that time for his Omnitool if he kept the plasma cutter's electric output to approximately five hundred amperes.
Honestly, he was just thankful that whatever facility had assembled the mag-clamp had foreseen that it might one day need to be manually replaced and used an electrically conductive material that could react to the plasma cutter's ionized gas. There would’ve been a serious issue if it were made of some alloy containing large amounts of manganese, lead, tungsten, or tin.
Aedan detached the nitrogen canister from his utility belt and carefully slotted it, nozzle-first, into the small compartment on his left bicep, making sure he did it correctly by feeling for it and looking at his HUD's upper connective dashboard until a small symbol lit up green. It always took him a minute to attach the gas canister if he'd already activated the Omnitool because craning his head to try and eyeball it wouldn't help due to the dense lattice light.
He could still pass a hand through the framework until activation, though, so that's how he did it. He then selected which gas canister he would use through the visor's interface, telling the suit which pre-set program to use for a controlled release of gas volume and pressure. The wrong selection would damage the suit’s circuits and erode the charging nodes in whichever arm used the Omnitool, worsening the future electric arc quality. Once that was all completed, he selected the plasma cutter shortcut and dialed in the proper precautions.
His visor suddenly tinted to a preselected shade as a liquid crystal filter within the bi-layered visor lens was electronically activated to protect the welders' eyes from exposure to high levels of ultraviolet and infrared radiation.
He also went ahead and engaged a welding safety feature in his suit's left arm, effectively locking the limb into only moving along its vertical axis to get the straightest, neatest cut he could manage to avoid damaging any vulnerable points like wire splices, wire wrap connections, or insulation-displacement connectors pushed up against the box's inner wall. Then, only after double and triple checking all the pertinent systems and running a quick operation diagnostic on the gas mechanism did he scoot closer to the mag-lock on one knee and set his left index finger at the proper angle before initiating the plasma cutter boot-up sequence.
Thrum!
A shuddering tremor ran down his entire left arm. The darkened space around him was suddenly illuminated as the magnitude of the Omnitool's ambient azure glow was notched up a few factors, its indistinct holographic lattice framework suddenly taking on a life-like quality of solid, coursing energy, almost like digitally pulsing veins.
The energy cell's capacity immediately dipped almost ten percent before stabilizing, prompting a sputtering electric arc to appear on the end of his index finger before similarly steading itself and violently crackling in place. He couldn't hear it, of course, but he'd used it indoors and knew what sound it was making.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
A bead of cool sweat rolled down his face as he carefully monitored his suit's overall status thus far for any errors or apparent malfunctions. Carefully exhaling after not seeing or hearing anything out of the ordinary for about ten seconds of constant power siphoning, he manually keyed the gas extraction/funneling mechanism. He felt some pressure against his bicep before another notification signaled the canister was prepped- he inhaled and released the automatic latch.
The steadily crackling electric arc suddenly fluctuated, like a candle in the wind, before blossoming into a light flare of violet-orange plasma. He slowly brought the burning plasma closer until it was lined up with the top edge of the mag clamp and then steadily brought it down without any further wait. A point of bright, yellowish-white light appeared against the clamp's surface, following the tip of the plasma cutter as it moved like a knife through butter. A track of super-heated metal was left in the plasma cutter's wake before immediately cooling to a warped, scorched line with a thin gap between the edges.
Seeing the progress, he continued cutting down the clamp for another ten seconds before finally reaching the bottom and slicing through the final barrier. He immediately switched off the gas flow and let the electric arc settle back into its original state before severing the connection. He was left with only the Omnitool's basic structure, as it too dimmed back to its initial opacity. Letting out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, he keyed off the axis mechanism on his left pectoral and took a moment to stretch his shoulder before settling down and taking in the work he'd done.
The cut was clean and with no lingering connective strands or re-hardened sections visible.
Grasping the latch on top of the junction box, he pulled up on the release; the previously smooth seal between the box and its covering cracked apart and then swung open of its own volition.
His eyebrows jumped as the interior was exposed.
'Wow...' he couldn't help but sigh at the sight that greeted him: thousands of millimeter-thin, color-coded branch circuits hooked up to a central main load panelboard. The only other junction boxes he'd worked on had maybe twenty branch circuits at most, and the problem had been readily apparent when he got on-site.
'Break it down,' he told himself, giving the branch circuits a closer look, separating the interior into more easily observable sections and comparing them against what he'd seen in the regulations and practice. Nothing was out of the ordinary, at least on the surface, so his next and only option was to interface with the box and run an internal diagnostic. He extended his left index finger and gently rested it against a designated flat square flush with the central panelboard.
'Manual connection established with... S7-MJB-Gamma-3H7,' the message appeared at the top of his HUD, followed by a prompt asking if he wanted to authorize a complete 'circuit' interface to allow his suit's internal Network router to access the Omnitool and commit to a comprehensive diagnostic. Aedan accepted and patiently watched as the borders of the square interface lit up the same color as the Omnitool. Then, both the Omnitool and interface began rhythmically pulsing in tandem as they synced with one another.
New information began slowly appearing across his visor. Aedan silently and carefully read through each system analysis for what felt like twenty minutes, looking for the tell-tale signs of file corruption, until finally, the diagnostic progress stalled. He immediately paused the process and read through the command lines and their subsequent code.
He tiredly smiled with relief- it was a simple fix relative to what he feared happening to such a complex junction box.
'This is it,' he thought, resuming the diagnostic to confirm while already working on methods to resolve the issue in his head. Then, quickly coming up with a few simple solutions that he felt had a decent chance of working, he paused the diagnostic and re-opened the report's marked file to get a clearer picture.
It was pretty simple, all things considered: an industrial clothing synthesizer in Section Seven had recently gone down, and whoever operated it obviously couldn't find the problem, so they probably complained to the Overseer of a power routing issue without actually sending in a repair team to take a look. He was only assuming, of course, but that's probably what happened. In any case, he nodded along with each series of error codes and recommended patches before selecting that particular 'connected device' and simply disconnecting it from the junction box. He then re-started the diagnostic tool and casually watched as his suspicion turned out to be right- there was never an issue with the junction box, but rather a faulty device whose connection was blocking and draining a significant amount of processing power from the panelboard.
'Just for that...' he shook his head as he looked over at the cut mag-clamp and thought about how to re-seal the junction box until an engineering team could make their way up here and re-wire a proper connection using their admin clearance.
Until then, Aedan could safely say his work was done for tonight.
He took his finger off the panelboard and deactivated his Omnitool, quickly going through the post-maintenance process by recording himself describing the entire repair process and attaching the audio file to the repair orders' ticket before sending it over to Processing. He then removed a PopSeal from his utility belt and placed the nanometer-thin cryo-plastic tag into the space at the top of the junction box.
He slowly closed the panel, holding it in place for five seconds before releasing it and carefully inspecting the edges to ensure the seal was secure. The secure connections were temporarily safe from environmental stressors until someone else needed to come up here. They could pull the tag toward themselves and re-open the box at that point. It was a handy tool when needing to temporarily re-seal something due to the cryo-tag's ability to essentially replicate the crystal orientation, strength, and electrical conductivity of whatever surface it remains in contact with for a few seconds, resulting in a high-quality, nanoscale cold weld between two individual surfaces that could be broken with a simple pull.
Aedan heaved a sigh as he stood, stretching his sore leg after putting weight on it for almost an hour and glancing over at his vitals, oxygen, and energy supply. He'd seen worse.
He quickly looked around the area to ensure he hadn't left anything unattended, despite knowing he hadn't, and then searched for the route to the nearest airlock.
A small, pulsing orange trail propagated across his visor, sending him back the way he'd come.
Aedan looked back at his work again one final time before positioning himself on the edge of the platform's ledge and deactivating his suit's microgravity generator before stepping off and gliding down to the lower landing. Reactivating the generator, he began making his way through twisting passages of irregularly placed scaffolding and even having to climb over or around behemoth-sized, dormant construction units and old mining machines parked in some long-forgotten corners collecting space dust. Eventually, after ascending and descending another four clamber tubes and half as many railed stairways, he stood at an angle overlooking another corner of the space station, with the orange trail faintly terminating at a non-descript rectangular blast door. Its exterior design indicated it was a single-person use airlock, but there also didn't seem to be a queue. He checked the nav marker for the second nearest airlock and found it was about twenty-five minutes away at his average pace.
So he started going over to the single-person one; he doubted there would be any issues since it was already past the time most other Indents were done for the evening.
Soon, he was standing in front of the biometric security lock-out beside the airlock. He input his maintenance codes and Indent ID number and placed his right hand over the scanner. The small screen's plain gray backdrop turned solid green.
Aedan removed his palm, and the words: 'Please stand clear...' appeared on the screen. He moved back and patiently waited as the blast door silently opened to reveal a plain open interior that was nothing more than an empty box.
The screen beside the door flashed green multiple times before another message appeared: 'Enter now.'
Aedan did so, coming to a stop in a small white circle stamped onto the floor in the room's center. A pair of worn boot illustrations sat inside the ring, indicating how a person should stand, but you were fine as long as you were in the circle.
His typically crowded HUD suddenly winked offline as his suit registered that he was about to re-enter the station and began shutting off everything aside from basic motor-control functionality and life support to protect crucial electronic components from the decontamination process.
The environment-side airlock door closed behind him after the circle's pressure plating registered that he was ready and waiting. Suddenly, the room was filled with the sound of a hundred industrial vacuums simultaneously switching on in a downright bone-shaking cacophony, accompanied by the room flooding with dense, white gas.
The first time Aedan had experienced the joint decontamination and pressurization process, he'd nearly pissed himself from the jarring sensory overload. But he was an old hat nowadays, and that sound was now associated with ending a work day and grabbing some much-needed food and sleep. So the equalizing pressurization of an airlock was like a soothing panacea on his worn psyche.
Aedan just closed his eyes and stood there until, eventually, everything fell silent. Then the reverse vacuum noise occurred, equally as violent and initially frightening. Still, this time, Aedan knew, even without looking, that it would take about thirty seconds before all of the white gas was resorbed by the ventilation system in the ceiling. So he silently counted down when a recorded message of the station's A.I. reverberated through the room as he got to four.
"Decontamination cycle: complete- you may now safely exit the demarcated area."
Aedan's eyes opened as the inner airlock blast door slowly slid open, revealing a narrow, empty corridor terminating at another door leading to the station's interior on the central atrium's upper levels. He gladly made his way down the hall, the final door operating on a one-way motion-activated sensor and automatically opening as he neared.
He stepped out onto one of the main walkways overlooking the central atrium with the large walkway opposite him across the room.
There were also some late-shift workers exiting the airlocks and walking down toward the locker rooms.
Just as he was about to do the same, a notification appeared across his visor.
'Incoming Transmission... Video Feed: Disabled - Voice Only.' Aedan paused mid-stride and frowned.
"Hello? Is this thing- oh, hi there! Am I speaking to Aedan Sones?" Aedan's eye twitched at the loud and chipper man's voice assaulting his ears.