Log Date: 1/9/97, 1/10/97
Log Cast:
	Tance, Evan, Alpin, Sabia
Log Intro:
	While Kesya has been busy re-orienting herself with her Training
duties following their trip to Shankill, Tance has been busy doing
some re-orienting of his own: going through the old datapad files Kesya
has helped him recover from his earlier years in the Guild. As he's
been doing that, however, it occurs to him that there is something else
he needs to do -- he needs to get back into the Ranges. But he wants to
wait for Kesya, too, and between the two impulses he finally settles on
the compromise of taking in his cutter for servicing.... except he
doesn't know any of the new cuttertechs, and has no idea that the Guild
is suffering a shortage of parts for the cutters....

----------
You walk into the cutter technician area.
Cutter Technician's Waiting Area
This small waiting area is full of people. By most of their reactions, the 
  inhabitants by and large seem to be Crystal Singers, all waiting to stow or 
  have their cutters repaired. Behind a counter is the door that leads to the 
  service area. On the other side of the room is a door that seems seldom 
  used, and wholely ignored. As you begin to comtemplate it you notice a 
  administrator looking at you.
Contents:
Cuttertech Data Terminal
Cutter Technician Manual
Service Counter
Computer
Obvious exits:
Lift  Office Area  Service/Storage  Patterning Room  Cutter Practice Room

Tance lingers bemusedly off near the service desk, brown gaze half-absent, a 
  battered cutter dangling off his shoulder.

Wandering absently into the room, Evan doesn't seem to initially notice you, 
  fiddling as he is with the mess of wires, circuitry and assorted other 
  electronic components that sits upon his palm.
Evan looks at you for a moment.

"Fix it... gotta get it fixed.... then go? No... can't go yet..." The man 
  with the cutter is clearly an older Singer, what with the grey in his hair 
  and his slightly scattered air. "Gotta wait for Jade..." Restless, he paces 
  a bit, then stops short when he realizes he's no longer alone.

Scattered air? You ain't seen nothing yet. And him without even the benefit 
  of being a singer. Wandering past you, again completely oblivious, Evan takes 
  up a position behind the desk...no...more properly _under_ the desk, sitting 
  on the floor rather than the chair, continually fiddling with the 
  thingamajigger in his hands, poking and prodding at it with some sort of 
  multitool. Every so often, he mutters softly, either to himself or the thing 
  he's working on, until you finally speak and seem to get his atention. 
  Poking his head up over the desktop, he blinks and looks about 
  "Oh...hi...didn't hear you come in."

Tance blinks, twice. "Oh... been here, a while... I think." He frowns 
  vaguely, watching you fidget about, and he adds unsurely, "You a tech, kid?"

Evan
 Small, thin, perhaps spidery. These words adequately describe the young man 
  that stands before you. Short, no taller than five and a quarter feet, he is 
  built wiry to match this height. Not quite handsome, not at all ugly, his 
  appearance can best be described as having a certain boyish charm, the 
  roguish wit coupled by an appearant angelic innocense that indicates he can 
  likely get away with anything, and is well used to.
 A constant annoyance, a mop of wavy black hair continously falls into his 
  eyes, and down to the middle of his back. Contrasting with his pale skin, he 
  constantly pushes this away, only to have it fall back into place.
 He wears a plain black jumpsuit, belted tight at the waist but allowed to 
  billow out on his legs, chest and arms. The suit is matte in color, with no 
  visible patches or insignias, save for one scrawled in blood red across the 
  back 'Life, the only disease with an absolute 100 percent mortality rate.'
 From knee down, he wears what looks like black, suede boots. Gloves of 
  similiar material cover his hands and forearms.
 Whatever eyes he has are covered by a set of black, wraparound sunglasses. A 
  heavy belt at his waist supports a variety of tools, gadgets, and assorted 
  electrical sundries, as well as a microcomputer.
 As usual, he seems to possess enough energy for ten men. He is constantly 
  fidgiting, moving, or playing with _something_.
Carrying:
Evan's Cutter Repair Unit

Blinking slightly, Evan quirks a brow ever so slightly, looking over to you 
  with a somewhat confused air "Uhm...I _think_ so...I mean, at least that's 
  what everyone else seems to think me... I mean...I am...so usually I don't 
  really argue.

Tance visibly takes a step back, not at all expecting _that_ for an answer.

Alpin walks in from the lift area.
Alpin has arrived.
Alpin waves on his way to the practice room.

Tance's gaze then drops to the deactivated cutter he's carrying, and pokes 
  idly at the worn grip on it. "Hannet... I better find Hannet..." He steps 
  back again from the young man doing the fidgeting, brow furrowed.

Alpin steps into the cutter practice room.
Alpin has left.

Sabia walks in from the lift area.
Sabia has arrived.

Evan seems to be taking far more consideration to the question than is 
  absolutely necessary, as if holding a conversation with himself "Well, I 
  mean, I fix cutters and all, because...well...I mean, I think I'd be good at 
  it, but then, no one ever really told me exactly _What_ I was supposed to be 
  doing here, so I just kind of found my own way...and all.."

Sabia smiles at the singer and Evan. The proceeds into the Cutter Practice 
  Room.
Sabia steps into the cutter practice room.
Sabia has left.

Tance lifts a hand and scrubs it across his eyes, blinking several times at 
  the young man. "Kid... wait... my head's scattered enough as it is. You 
  telling me you _can_ fix a cutter?"

Evan blinks slowly, turning his gaze toward the other singer, expression 
  completly innocent, only his head visible behind the desk "Well...yeah..."

Tance's weathered face visibly relaxes, though not fully. His brow furrows a 
  moment, and he taps a hand reflexively against his cutter's casing as if 
  trying to remind himself of something. At last he lifts his head, and 
  unslings the cutter, observing plaintively, "It's worn..."
You set the cutter down.

Rising to his feet, Evan scritches the back of his head and considers the 
  cutter "Oh...suppose you want this fixed then?" He asks, then, without 
  waiting for an answer, snatches up the cutter and sits back on the floor, 
  just out of view again.
Evan picks up the cutter carefully.

Tance explains earnestly, "I gotta go cut."

Evan seems to lose himself in his work, every so often muttering or growling, 
  either to himself or the cutter. Some rather odd noises begin to eminate 
  from behind the desk, tinking, buzzing, hissing...heck, you might half 
  expect to hear a jackhammer some time.

Tance's furrowed brow furrows a little more. He leans slightly towards the 
  desk, and calls over it, "You're... sure you can fix it?"

Evan peers upward, the cutter splayed out on his lap and floor, internals 
  appearantly occupying a three foot by three foot area. He blinks innocently 
  again, then replies with "Oh....yeah...sure...well, pretty sure...uhm...it 
  won't blow up on your hand...well..."He seems confused for a moment "At 
  least only if you're not _Real_ unlucky...or something.

Tance's face falls slightly. "My luck reeks, mostly," he mutters, but maybe 
  that's to himself. Somewhat urgently, he adds, "It can't blow up. I gotta 
  cut with Jade, see?"

Evan turns and looks back to the cutter "Ok...it won't blow up. Promise." He 
  says, quite sure of himself, then follows with a curious "Hey...what's 
  _this_ thing doing here?"

"You _sure_ you can fix it?" The Singer starts looking visibly worried, but 
  at least he's being quite civil, a distinct improvement over most Singers.
Tance shifts his weight from foot to foot, troubedly. Techs aren't _supposed_ 
  to mutter like that over his equipment. At least he doesn't _think_ so.... 
  but then again, what dim memories he has of what techs are _supposed_ to do 
  with his equipment usually involves them snapping at him and kicking him out 
  towards the lifts. This being infinitely better, he waits, but worriedly.

Poking around a bit more in the cutter, Evan pulls a small bundle of wires 
  and assorted other circuitry, considering it with an accusitory air. He 
  follows the path of the circuit, as if going over something in his mind, 
  then shrugs, tossing it behind him into a half open drawer "Damn'ed 
  redundant systems..." He mutters to himself, appearantly oblivious to his 
  surroundings again as he rewires circuitry about it. Civil? Not civil? 
  Something gives you the impression that a Mach storm could be raging about 
  him and he'd be just as happy.

Eventually, the brown-eyed Singer becomes fascinated in spite of the 
  worrisome muttering. _Had no _idea_ what the inside bits looked like..._ 
  Peering over the desk now constantly, he keeps watching, looking somewhat 
  like a shyer, older boy watching a smaller one with superior technical skill 
  disassemble a toy.

Sliding the multitool back into his breast pocket, Evan prods gently at a 
  small relay-looking device, nodding to himself as a soft hum comes from the 
  direction of the crystal drive "Ok...don't suppose we need _This_ one 
  either..." he mutters as he unceremoniously yanks another tiny board from 
  one corner of the cuttersystem, rewiring around it again.
Lifting the battered cutter blade from the floor next to him, Evan balances, 
  or at least tries to, balance it on the tip of a gloved finger. The thing is 
  just too chipped and dented to hold a good rock, tipping and weaving off in 
  every direction. Frowning onesidedly, he tosses this into a small bin full 
  of likely damaged cutter blades, then proceeds to check the connections and 
  condition of the crystal drive, pulling small, clear plastic boxes, each 
  holding what appears to be a bimetallic switch, from the surface of it. 
  "Bad...bad...bad..." He begins whispering to himself as he tests each of the 
  many leads that they came from "...cold...cold..." His body suddenly gives a 
  convulsive shudder as an arc of electricity passes from the cutter to the 
  probe "Ow. Hot..."

Tance watches all this in wide-eyed bemusement. "All that just to fix the worn 
  bits?"

Evan blinks and looks up to you, expression still that blank, completely 
  innocent look "Well..." He begins slowly, then adds a "Yeah...sure..." 
  somehow, the words 'why don't we go with _that_' seem to fit right into the 
  end of that statement. Turning back to the cutter, he begins reassembling 
  it, the internals noticably less bulky now.

Utterly perplexed, the Singer asks blankly, pointing a lean finger at the 
  remaining scattered parts, "Don't those go, um, _in there_?" The finger 
  moves to the cutter.

After _most_ of the cutter seems reassembled <some bits still lie scattered 
  about the floor> Evan rises to his feet and looks down "Huh? Oh...those..." 
  He says in a vaguely disinterested tone, "You don't need 'em..."

The Singer's dark gaze goes from tech -- well, he karkin' _HOPES_ the man's a 
  tech, but how the freg is he supposed to remember, anyway? -- to cutter and 
  back again. "Maybe I better test it..."

Evan shakes his head "Wait a min... I need to get a new crystal relay and 
  cutter blade and..." he suddenly stops speaking, all the while rooting 
  through the drawers "Waitaminute...hm."

Alpin steps out of the practice room.
Alpin has arrived.
Alpin walks out to the lift area.
Alpin has left.

Sabia steps out of the practice room.
Sabia has arrived.
Sabia walks out to the lift area.
Sabia has left.

Tance's worried look deepens. "What...? What?" His tone grows a little more 
  urgent.

"Hang on..." Evan again seems mostly unaware of his surroundings, cradling the 
  partially assembled cutter in one arm, rooting through drawers with the 
  other. Turning, he makes his way to a cabinet in one corner, then a small 
  bin off to the side. Almost inverting himself in this, he comes back, 
  holding a small, mechanical box in one hand as pearl diver with a tremendous 
  find. Attaching this to the bottom of the cutter, he turns and pads into the 
  back room without a word, shutting the door a few minutes later. Reemerging, 
  he runs his free hand through his hair and says, in quite a casual voice 
  "Well...sludge me..."

"What?!" asks Tance, looking quite frightened, now, as if you'd just told him 
  a loved one had some kind of mysterious ailment. In fact, maybe you have, 
  since the cutter _is_ arguably a Singer's most important equipment...

Evan lets loose with a short burst of almost complete tech talk "Well, your 
  secondary crystal relay is completely munged, your cutter blade has more 
  stress fractures than a demented psychotherapist, and I can't even _find_ 
  the secondary and terciary connection of three of your four tri level 
  resistors...and...uhm...well, I managed to jury rig the relay...but it seems 
  we're out of the other ones."

Tance blinks rapidly all throughout the technobabble, trying to keep up, and 
  finally blurts, "You _can't_ fix it?"

Evan shrugs slightly as he looks down to, not you, but the cutter with a 
  rather apologetic look on his face "Well...I _could_...if _someone_ down in 
  supply rememberd to restock the shelves last week...this always seems to 
  happen...we've gotta get all the recruits their stuff, so we keep running 
  out of parts. For now, I can give ya a less worn blade, but I don't know how 
  long 'tll last, and I can'd to anything about the resistors. It'll probably 
  overheat like their's no tomorrow."

"But... but... I gotta cut..." Dismayed, the Singer turns first to the left, 
  then to the right, as if wanting to pace but not sure which direction to go. 
  "I gotta cut, I'm broke....!"

Evan blinks, then wags a finger, saying in a gently chiding tone, that of a 
  mother berating a small child "Now...this would never have happened if you 
  brough it in for regular service..." probably a comical picture, considering 
  that, if anything, _he_ appears the child.

Tance stammers out, "Forgot... I forgot... kark it...." Frustratedly, he 
  smacks his own forehead, pacing in earnest now, and explaining anxiously as 
  he does, "I just now looked at it, I-I mean, it looked wrong..."

Evan looks down to the cutter again, as if considering it "Like I said, I can 
  give you a little jury rig time, but it won't be near as good as new...might 
  be dangerous to use. Uhm..." He looks back to this "Why not just bring it in 
  whenever you bring your crystal in too? Or write a note...or whatever you 
  people do to remember stuff."

Tance frowns anxiously. "Won't remember... gotta... wait." He fumbles about 
  his person till he produces a small battered datapad, which he flicks on, 
  and into which he punches up the sequence to leave himself a note. When the 
  pad chirps, he informs it gravely, "Gotta remember to bring in my cutter 
  when I bring in crystal."

Evan runs his fingers through his hair again, looking you over. Taking a step 
  back, he looks down to the cutter, one brow raising ever so slightly 
  "Well...I suppose that'll work...uhm...whatcha want me to do with this?" He 
  asks, gesturing to the cutter.

Tance lowers the datapad, and repeats plaintively, "I gotta cut."

Evan shrugs and nods "Well..ok, but if you lose anything, it's the medic's 
  problem...I suppose."

"Medics. Remember the medics," the man mutters, and with that anxious look 
  lingering in his worn features, he reaches questioningly for the cutter.

Evan shrugs slightly, taking a step back. He pads over to one corner of the 
  room, fiddling about for a slightly less battered blade. Sliding this into 
  place, he clicks it, then is back in front of you in an instant "Uhm...like 
  I said, go easy on it."
Evan sets the cutter down.

Tance accepts the cutter gingerly, and stares at it, brown eyes widening, as 
  he hefts the lessened wait. He bobs his head in slow agreement, then, 
  echoing to himself, "Go easy, gotta go easy..."

Evan shrugs slightly, jotting a note down himself, and shoving it into a 
  pocket "Well...uhm...when we get new parts...just come on down...and I'll 
  put the new stuff in."

You pick up the cutter carefully.
Tance looks up again, and, expression still matching the younger man's for 
  bemusement, he fumbles once more for the datapad. "Um. I-I won't remember 
  your name... who're you anyway?"

Patting down his pocket, Evan quickly looks down. Yes, you probably guessed 
  it, that note he just wrote down has already consigned itself to oblivion. 
  Releasing a quiet sigh, he runs his hand through his hair "Oh...most people 
  just call me Evan around here. I suppose that'll do...I guess."

This information is entered into the pad, too, delivered by the Singer in a 
  short murmured statement. Then, pad stowed once more in a pocket, he glances 
  back to the tech, and suddenly lopsidedly grins. "Hey, kid... um... thanks 
  for not yellin' at me."

Evan blinks several times, finally seeming to focus upon you, one brow 
  quirking up. He considers you for a heartbeat or two, then finally ventures 
  to ask "Yelling at you? Why'd I do that?"

The Singer glances off, sheepishly. "Techs used to yell," he murmurs, perhaps 
  to himself, but perhaps not. "I remember that."

Evan blinks several times to that, then shrugs a shoulder "Dunno...usually 
  kinda quiet around here. Most of the times it's the singers that do the 
  yelling."

Tance can be seen to blush a bit, and he says gruffly, "Um. Tryin' not to." He 
  then glances sideways at the other man, as if silently checking whether he's 
  succeeding.

Evan drops his gaze again, locking his fingers behind his back and standing 
  there in something of an uncomfortable looking position. 
  "Uhhm....well...like I said, been pretty quiet in here lately."

Tance nods once, then straightens a bit, unconsciously. Maybe, just maybe, 
  reacting to the younger man's posture of 'nervous kid'. His own expression 
  eases, and he repeats, "Anyhow, kid... thanks. I'll try to remember you, 
  promise..." With that, he shoulders the cutter, gives a bit of a wave, and 
  wanders out.

[End log.]