The air inside is strangely tense for a standard op, a little sweaty and a lot twitchy. The lights in the gun closet are low, a lightly pulsating red to keep the humans' low-light vision intact. Your fellow automaton, Frankie, pulls her combat/engineering rig over her head, a harness with more pouch groups than she has original fingers. Twice as many mags as the last ship. The
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