I don't have it in me to look the men in the eye anymore. They all know why I'm not down there with them, and I'm not one of the honorable ones that just isn't any good at fighting. No its the fear, and not even something sane like dying. My one time down in the tunnels they had to drag me back out. I'd gotten five feet before I froze up, convinced I couldn't move because the walls were so damn close and the cieling.. no, ask somebody else what claustrophobia is like, thinking about just gives me panic attacks.
I was pissed when they took me off combat duty, but I knew damned well they didn't have any choice. They need men down there more than anything, and if you can't go down then there's other things that need to be done. Me I got stuck on armor maintenance. After I lost track of how much time I'd spent washing blood and... other things (which mercifully don't look human once the nessies are done) out of pieces of armor I started seeing getting cut as more of a blessing. And then of course... well, once I'm done cleaning I go through bit by bit and look for bits that are still working. A lot of the parts are amazingly durable, you can get nearly half a suit out of a wreck, as long as you replace the plates and the seals.
That's the real reason I can't look them in the eye. Every last one of us in maintenance has gone to the boss and told him that we can't be sure if a part will hold up in combat or not, and we've all been told the same thing: We don't have the money for new parts, and the failure rate for a rebuilt suit is only one in fifteen. After we replace the plating and the seals though, it looks brand new, and God help us, not one of us has the courage to tell the men otherwise.
