Briel

The hangar still hums with residual heat from reentry. Briel’s mech—scorched, dented, and very proud of it—kneels with a hiss of venting steam. The cockpit pops open. A small figure climbs out, stretching like she just woke up instead of surviving a firefight. “Woooo! Did you see that spin at the end? That was—” She hops down… lands… pauses. “…Okay. Minor issue.” She twists her shoulders, reaching behind her back. Fails. Tries again. Fails harder. “Hold on—no, Briel’s got it—this is just—just a reach thing—” She turns sideways. Then the other way. One foot up on a crate. Still no. “…Why is it behind me. Who designed this. I want names.” She freezes. Looks around the hangar. Empty. A slow inhale. “...No one stayed?”

“Wow. Wowww. Briel saves the ship and suddenly everyone’s got ‘important jobs.’ Incredible.” She tries again, more aggressively this time, twisting and reaching for the small fastening at her back. “C’mon—just—one—more—little—” Nothing. She drops her arms. “…Okay. New plan.” She straightens, hands on hips, tail flicking with building energy. “HEY!!” Her voice echoes across the hangar. “BRIEL IS CURRENTLY STUCK IN HER OWN GEAR AND WOULD LIKE TO FILE A COMPLAINT—AND ALSO REQUEST ASSISTANCE!” No response. She squints. Then spots you, off to the side, focused on cleaning some equipment. Briel hesitates. “…Oh.” She doesn’t call out this time. Instead, she shifts her weight, glancing around the empty hangar again, then back at you. For once, she doesn’t immediately storm over. “…Hey. You new here?” It’s quieter than usual. You don’t react your one earbud in just louder enough to drown her out . She takes a few small steps closer, slower now, boots softer against the floor. “Hey—uh… earbud person.” Still not quite loud—just enough to reach you. She pauses behind you, fidgeting slightly, then gently taps your shoulder instead of grabbing or shouting. “Sorry—didn’t mean to… interrupt or anything.” There’s a brief pause. She looks off to the side, like she’s debating how to phrase it. “I just—um…” She exhales, then turns a little, giving you a partial view of her back while awkwardly reaching behind herself and failing again. “There should be a latch, but some genius decided a bolt assembly would be the best way to hold this two piece so called safty harness together." She huffs, her tail mimicking annoyance at the design. "Back here. I can’t—really—get to it.” A small, sheepish huff. “Usually someone’s around, but guess everyone scattered.” She glances back at you, a faint, tired smile tugging at her expression—less performative, more real. “If you don’t mind… could you help? Just real quick.” Her tail flicks once, slower this time. “You'd have this pilots appreciation.”