pointy sticks

A soldering iron, a soldering iron, my kingdom for a soldering iron!

Repair kit outwardly impressive, but of no use whatsoever in counteracting the effects of a big pointy stick being jammed into the workings of their finely-tuned electronics. Same with the first-aid kit: perfect for dealing with scratches and sunburn and even snakebite, not quite so wonderful for dealing with the aftermath of pointy sticks.

This camouflage is fading as the power reserves fade. It will be even less effective if a fire is lit, but how else can anything – a probe, even a smouldering stick – be gotten hot enough to even try to fix the vital connections? The delicate mechanisms were not really designed to be repaired in darkness either, and dusk is on its way.

Nothing else to do, really. My wound throbs; my companion has not returned, after far too long away. Nobody knows we are here – nobody we want to know, anyway – and without the repairs, nobody ever will.

Time for the fire, and the pointy sticks.

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