Nyx
The measuring arm passed the midpoint.
Nyx watched it return.
No catch.
The keeper reset the test, checked the new contact and sent the arm through another low powered cycle. Its pointer stopped inside the marked band.
Malcris stood clear of the moving frame.
"Let it rest before the next one," he said.
"The contact is new."
"The rest of it isn't."
The keeper nodded and closed the supply.
Nyx stood beside the workshop window with her repaired sheath against her hip. She had come for the classification response. The frame happened to be back on the testing bench.
It was useful to see the work finished.
The washer Malcris had reseated remained where it should be. The burned contact had been replaced under a separate entry. The movement had passed both the hand check and the powered measure.
A good explanation, followed by a repair which did what it claimed.
Nyx could dislike the man later.
For now, she watched the final reading.
