Maybe I'm old fashioned, but I like the smell of rust. It reminds me of home. Everyone else complains, complains, complains.

“My nose filter isn't working."

“I can still smell it, do something!"

“Why can't you fix these things? That's your job, right?!?"

They never stop. Cripes, what did they think was going to happen? It's a planet covered in iron dust, it's going to smell like rust.

To me, that smell, it's why I became a General Mechanic. The smell of rust means I have work to do and I like to work. I like to know that I can control time by replacing parts, by scrubbing and washing and polishing. I give new life to something that normally would be scrapped. But, around here we can't afford to waste materials. Limited supply means limited supply and that's that. You can't argue with the finite.

The first time I set foot here, I knew I was in Heaven. The never ending red of the rust fields; the orange glow that dulled the landscape was, to me, the most beautiful sight I had every seen. Rust is contagious, once it gets in something it can never be gotten out. You know you are in for a lifetime of repairs and refurbishing. This planet meant endless work. I could barely contain my joy.

Of course, this annoyed everyone else. They didn't want to constantly be covered in rust. They didn't want to have to decontaminate each time they came inside. They all thought the scrubbing and showering and washing was a waste of time. It was inconvenient and they had Important Work to do.

“Why can't you figure out a way to keep the rust off of us?"

“Can't you demagnetize our suits somehow?"

“Can't you coat us with some type of rust repellent?"

“What do you do all day?"

Being the person I am, I did try to figure out a solution to this. But anything I came up with had its draw backs. Nothing dangerous, but the issues arriving from the solutions tended to be more worrisome than the rust, so I had to scrap each idea. Of course, I didn't complain and I can work for hours on end, so there never was a problem for me in the first place. However, the others weren't so easy going, so they started to cut corners in their re-entry decontamination protocols. Which, of course, led to trouble.

“Jesus, what the hell is happening to this place?"

“Hey, Sector 85-G4 is falling apart!"

“My bed collapsed last night, fix it will ya?!?"

More work for me. I was running on two hours of sleep a night. Sometimes less. They started to complain that my work was getting shoddy. They started to complain that I wasn't keeping up with repairs and that major systems were going off-line. I just shut them out. I was working as fast as I could and there was only one of me. Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way. The General Mechanics team had four of us when we first arrived. At first this was fine, we were all so busy getting set up that there was plenty of work to do. But once the station was built and on-line, we were left with routine maintenance and repair duties. This hardly filled the day for four General Mechanics. And soon there were problems.

I'm getting ahead of myself, though.  Let me give a short explanation of why one becomes a General Mechanic. First, you have to love fixing things. And that means anything. From rocket boosters to computer drives. Food processors to atmosphere conditioners. You got to fix it all. You don't have to be an expert in any one field, which actually narrows the labor pool down pretty quick. Most mechanics like to specialize, they like to know a specific system and stick with it. That is great back home, but here you have to be ready for anything and not be afraid. In essence, a General Mechanic must be an extraordinary generalist with a tireless work ethic and a never say die attitude. Also, General Mechanics tend to be very independent thinkers and don't always work well with others. Now you can imagine the problems when you put four General Mechanics in the same station together and they get bored.

Or, maybe, you can't imagine, so let me break it down for you. General Mechanic Juarez lost his right arm trying to dodge a speeding lift-cart and bled to death before Medical Officer Polson could get to him. Granted he dared me to put it on auto-pilot and send it at him; he was always a show off and had dodged it successfully three times before. General Mechanic Simpson was found hanging by a belt in his closet. He was having a personal moment and it went a little too far. General Mechanic Little just didn't show up for his shift one day. No one is quite sure what happened to him or where he went. Personally, I think he's in the walls, but nobody else liked that scenario so I just kept my mouth shut. Which, of course, just left me, General Mechanic Kilpatrick, to handle all of the work and cover all of the shifts. Which was fine by me.

“There is no way you can handle the work load."

“I cannot authorize you to run this department by yourself."

“As the Senior Physician, I am ordering you to rest."

Other departments may have liked to slack off, take personal time or just lower their work ethic, but not me. This is a planet of rust. There is no down time for a General Mechanic on a planet of rust. So I have pushed myself as far as I can. I have worked tirelessly to maintain this facility and keep all systems in working order. I have had to cut back on non-essential systems and station areas, but that could not be helped. With that said, let me make it perfectly clear that I have never in my life intentionally killed anyone or allowed anyone to be killed by a mistake I have made.

Convincing others of that was not easy. It was not my fault that a support strut in the mess hall had rusted out and collapsed and crushed the Commander, First Officer and Senior Physician. The mess hall is not classified as an essential section of the station, so I put it on the back burner. That is my training and that is how I do things. Again, not my fault that a rover's steering system became corroded and failed to allow Chief Science Officer Jenkins to steer out of the way of falling rocks in the Bastyr Canyon. When concerning vehicles, a science rover is third on the maintenance list and I had told him I couldn't get to the checklist until 0500 hours. Also, the Nutritionist kept harassing me to fix the main thermo unit in oven #5, but how can they blame me when the legs rusted out causing the oven to collapse and crush her? Did I make the rust? Did I bring the rust in? Did I cut corners on the decontamination protocols? No, I did not. They did, every last one of them.

“Hello? Kilpatrick?"

“Please, open the airlock! Dear God, we are frying in here!"

“Stop, I said stop! I'm still in this section! Can you hear me?!?"

“The door lock is jammed! Recompress! Recompress now dammit!"

With all I have done, how can anyone say I was the cause of this? I have always given my all and done my best. So, what now? Well, now I get to truly appreciate the beauty of the landscape. I can sit here, between my duties and look out at the vast expanse of rust. What more could I ask for? I am now at peace and alone. Well, except for General Mechanic Little, but he's in the walls.