http://gorillaartfare.com/2009/10/sci-fi-dumpage/ (fourth down)
Martin found the encompassing feeling of the abandoned mech hanger remarkable. The lofty girders above and the open bay doors along the perimeter reminded him of a church he attended as a boy before he stopped praying.
“Thanks,” Martin said aloud. The occasional single-syllable acknowledgement was all that remained of Martin’s belief.
:Roger that, Commander.: Lieutenant Abilene Guerrera’s voice spoke in Martin’s earpiece. She drove the mech guarding above him. He smiled and pretended it was Goddess responding instead. He then prepared what he’d say to the Lieutenant’s inevitable query. :…uh, ‘Thanks’ for what, sir?:
:[something profound and direct]:
:Of course, sir,: Guerrera replied after a delay. Her rote protocol made Martin smile and almost laugh. He imagined her turning wide-eyed and questioning to her co-pilot, Ensign Jackwar Peters, and him, cringing, unable to offer an explanation for their boss’s sudden melancholy. They’d chew on that shit for days, he thought.
“Ho!” Martin looked around for the caller. “Ho, up here, sir.”
Martin looked up to find a torch wielding engineer through the wreckage of one of the rolling gangways high above his mech. “You might wanna move away, sir. Crox and me is about to cut loose.” Martin gave her a thumbs up and pointed to the center of the hanger where the ceiling had sheered away and darkening blue sky could be seen beyond the orange-rinsed clouds. She nodded once. Nodding again sharply dropped her visor into place; the torch popped to life.
“Lieutenant, follow me to the center.”
xxx words on day 789