"Give me a hand with this," Rikbore requested.

The promised assistants had arrived only a day after Xandra's return. They were two more of the tiny asurans, a human, and one of the plant-like sylvari race. Xandra had snorted a bit at the sight of the green-grey woman, but had admitted she'd handpicked her for the roll. For all that the sylvari were the "at one with nature" sorts Rodhlann was a master with fabricating metal parts, easily the match of any Iron Legion engineer.

Rodhlann turned from the lathe she was working at. "What do you need, Centurion Warstone?"

"Haven't I told you to call me Rikbore?"

"You have."

"And?"

"And what did you need my help with, Centurion?"

Rikbore sighed. The other assistants had been quite happy to use his first name, but Rodhlann was a stubborn case. "We need an adjustment to this fitting made. The coolant hose wasn't as flexible as we'd hoped. We need to add a 90 degree angle."

"Of course. How soon were you wanting it?"

"As quick as you reasonably could. We were hoping to do a pressure test of the system components before we started installing them today."

Rodhlann nodded, her mushroom cap hair bobbing slightly on her head. "I didn't know we were that far along."

"All we really needed was the frame. Most of the power system rests on top of the main coolant tank. That's why we want to test things before installation. If there's a problem we'd have to pull the whole thing apart to replace a bad component."

"Of course." She reached out and took the offending fitting from Rikbore. "I'll work on it right away, Centurion."

Shaking his head, Rikbore turned to go back to where the metal bones of The Monster were forming. He could see Xandra's butt wiggling between two of the frame members, with Znaps butt similarly sticking out between the next set over.

"No, no," Xandra was admonishing. "We need to twist it to the left in order to get them to interface correctly."

"The far end needs to twist to the right, first. Otherwise it will catch on the central dorsal and wedge in place," Znap was disagreeing. "We need to clear the dorsal."

"Hold on," Rikbore rumbled. "Let me get that for you."

Snatching up a pair of wrenches he walked over to the large metal beam that ran front to back on the upper portion of the golem's frame. Loosening several bolts, he took a hold of it and heaved. The entire frame pulled upward, the sides collapsing inward slightly as the previously solid bolts became pivots.

With a twist, Xandra and Znap slid the frame piece they had been working with into place. "Thank you, Rikbore," Znap said, sitting upright and sliding from his place between the ribs.

"No problem," Rikbore grunted. He eased the dorsal back in place and began carefully adjusting bolts, making sure that frame members were back in their correct alignment. "So why wasn't that already in place?"

"Jakka forgot to put it in."

Rikbore arched an eyebrow. "An Asuran forgot to do something mechanical?"

Xandra shrugged. "Even a race as advanced as ours still produces individuals capable of making mistakes. I will talk to him about it."

"Isn't he in charge of assembling the cannon?"

"He is," Znap agreed. "But he needs some parts fabricated by Rodhlann. Until she can get to them he's at a bit of a standstill, so we asked him to help assemble the frame."

"I see. He's a weapons expert?"

Xandra nodded. "I poached him from Qibb's krewe. They were doing some advanced weapons development for the Pact."

"I'm not sure what I think of a cannon builder that leaves out parts," Rikbore muttered. "Let's keep an eye on him."

"Agreed," Znap nodded. "In the meantime, shall we grab some lunch?"

"Mm, that sounds like an excellent idea," Xandra agreed. She slithered out from between the ribs and dropped to the ground before pocketing a wrench. "What is on the menu?"

"The kitchen delivered cold cuts, bread, and a pair of salads, one full of fruit, the other vegetables."

"Which one has the tomatoes?" Znap quipped.

"While we may be smart enough to realize that tomatoes are fruit, the keep's cook is wise enough to know not to put them in a fruit salad."

"That's good to know."

Xandra coughed politely. "While you two are having an enjoyable time debating the relative culinary merits of the keep staff, I would like to make a proposal."

Rikbore arched an eyebrow. "Not the most romantic of settings," he rumbled. "I do believe romance is one of the requirements the humans have for proposals."

"I believe the humans require the term 'smartass' for individuals such as yourself," Xandra shot back. "Seriously, however, I think we could all stand having a day off. I don't think any of us have been out of the workshop at all for two weeks."

Rikbore scratched his head, thinking. The additions had arrived two weeks ago to the day, and the entire krewe had sequestered themselves in the cave below the keep ever since. That was one of the occupational hazards of being a very sharp group of people on an unprecedented project. There was a tendency to obsess.

He sniffed the air for a moment. "I think that would be a good idea. We should air the place out while we're at it. Things are getting a bit stale down here."

"If by 'stale' you mean smelly, I agree," Znap replied.

"I'm surprised you noticed," Rikbore chuckled. "Given that those flat faces of yours barely have a nose I'd have thought you didn't have a sense of smell."

"Our olfactory capabilities work just fine, thank you. Ufonrtunately." Znap grinned. "I agree. Let's complete the pressure test this evening and then tell everyone to take a day for themselves tomorrow."

Rikbore reached over and grabbed a large slab of cold beef. "Sounds good to me. But first, lunch."

Dawn of the next day, while not particularly late in coming, was not particularly early, either. Summer was finally giving way into fall, and the morning was just a little cooler than was necessarily pleasant. The dawn sky matched the leaves of the trees in the swamp bordering the keep, bright shades of red and orange.

Znap smiled as Rikbore lumbered out of the keep's gates. "It's about time. We were growing impatient waiting for you."

"Actually, I was thinking I might let the two of you go without me."

Both Asurans looked surprised. "Are you certain?" Xandra asked.

Rikbore scratched behind his ear. "Yeah. I have some questions I need answered, so I thought today would be good for that."

Xandra gave him a knowing look. "Well, we shall be off, then."

"Have fun, you two," Rikbore smiled. He watched as the two set off down the path.

Rikbore sighed as they took a turn around a low rise and disappeared from view.

"So, how do you feel?"

Rikbore growled as he turned to face Sara. "Like someone should put you down for everyone's mental well being."

The dark skin of her face dimpled as Sara smiled beneath the rags covering her non-functional eyes. "I suppose some might feel better about that. I, however, can't say as I would be one of them. But that was truly not the question I was asking."

Rikbore glowered.

"You are resigned to your fate then?" Sara pressed.

"I'm resigned to nothing," he grumbled. "But I also am a realist. She deserves cubs."

"And you think those two are going to just pop off and take care of that right now? Biology doesn't work that way."

"I think that I need to know. I need to know what all of this means to me."

"If you love something, let it go?"

"Like hell. I'll drag her back here by her ears if that's what it takes." Rikbore smiled. "I can't guarantee that Znap'll live through it though."

"Well, good luck, Rikbore Warstone," Sara said. She turned and began walking down the path herself, then paused. "Oh, one thing." She turned back to face Rikbore. "Not everyone wants to see your project succeed. I'd keep a weather eye out." She turned and walked away.

"A weather eye?" Rikbore snorted. "At least I've got working eyes to use for that, you blind old biddy." He turned and began walking past the walls of the keep. He had a nice spot in the canyonlands picked out for some light reading. Sharl Darkwater was said to have been a fantastic poet.