"I wouldn't worry, corporal." Pilgrim grunted, without humour. He clapped a hand on the grenadier's shoulder pad as he squeezed past him to go and meet Mercurius. "They design this stuff with ignorant squaddies like you and me in mind. Just follow whatever ritual the cogboys told you when they gave you it and you should be alright."
"Riiiiiiiight, roger sir." Klemens, giving the Colour a brief nod as he left. His 'assurance' or insult, he wasn't entirely sure how to take it. Still it gave him some comfort, but he'd be frakked if he could remember the machine rites. "Umm, ..... blessed machine, a ... umm ... a thousand pardons for my unworthy hands. Umm, err, ahh, deus in Machina."
"Damnation....." He whispered, he had hoped that was the correct utterance, "Vox, please don't hurt me and I'll oil you later. How about that? .... You like that?" He promised and joked not really caring if anyone else heard him.
* * * * *
"Fitz here." came a familiar voice across the vox. It was clear enough, but for some reason it sounded very far away. "Is that you corp? Where are you guys now?"
"Yes, it's Corporal Klemens, we are currently in one of the water reservoirs. I want to request routine radio reports, every 10 minutes. Update your situation and tell me if Liv receives anything." Though he wasn't sure if 'receive' was the correct word.