0545:<br/>Alex Newheart had been up for a couple of hours already, working with one of the base techs to resolve a feed issue on his mech, the Ms E. During a drill the other day, the feed line to AC had jammed, leaving a gap in the artillery line he was working for during the drill. Luckily, since the shells were dummies, it didn't really do anything, but it was embarrassing. The night before they had figured out that the problem was a sub-standard bolt that had escaped some morons quality control. He and the technician were just finishing up on checking all the other one hundred and five bolts and rivets in the feed system to make sure they were good when his base com squawked and called him to the West Commons Room. Letting out a string of cuss words, he slid out of the tight confines of Ms E, and told the tech to finish up as he grabbed a sani-wipe and began to wipe grease off his hands as he headed across base.<br/><br/>0600<br/>Alex arrived at the room just as it's door was closing behind someone else. It opened for him, still rolling down his sleeves of his maintenance coveralls and he stepped in behind the lieutenant. "Good morning Ma'am," he said to her as he stepped around her, adjusting his tool belt in an attempt to look a little less out of place in this room.