Known for Rejecting Contact, the Alien Warrior Stays Still While a Human Carefully Repairs Her Armor скачать в хорошем качестве

Known for Rejecting Contact, the Alien Warrior Stays Still While a Human Carefully Repairs Her Armor

Commander Kethara is legendary Thessari warrior whose reputation is built on combat effectiveness and absolute emotional distance. She fights with devastating skill, leads military operations with tactical brilliance, and maintains complete isolation from personal connection. She tolerates no one within her personal space once fighting ends. No celebration with unit members. No physical contact from medics unless injuries are severe enough to override her rejection. Her armor bears the marks of this isolated life—scored by enemy weapons, cracked from impacts, repaired hastily by Kethara herself rather than by maintenance personnel she refuses to allow close enough for proper work. After particularly brutal engagement, her armor is damaged beyond what field repairs can address. Multiple structural compromises, failed joint actuators, cracked plates needing replacement. Military command orders her to report to maintenance facility for armor repair—not request, but order. The armor is military equipment that must be maintained to operational standards. David Chen is human maintenance technician assigned to the repair. He's familiar with Kethara's reputation and approaches the situation differently than expected. Instead of treating it as compliance issue where Kethara needs to accept necessary maintenance regardless of discomfort, David recognizes it as trust-building challenge where success depends on respecting boundaries rather than forcing past them. He introduces himself formally and explains clearly: "Commander, the armor damage requires hands-on work while you're wearing it. I'll need to work in your personal space for approximately ninety minutes. I'll announce every movement before I make it. I won't touch you without warning. If at any point you need me to stop or step back, just say so and I'll comply immediately. The repair will take longer this way, but I'd rather do it slowly and respectfully than quickly in ways that make you uncomfortable." Kethara is surprised—she expected to be told the repair is mandatory and to tolerate whatever proximity the work requires. Instead, this human technician is offering her control and explicitly asking for consent. She agrees with clear wariness. David kneels beside her to access the damaged armor sections. Before touching anything, he narrates: "I'm reaching toward the left torso plate now. Going to examine the crack before I start the repair. You'll feel pressure but not direct contact with your body." He works with deliberate slowness. Each movement announced. Each touch explained. No sudden movements. No assumptions. Kethara doesn't relax—her body remains tense, her awareness hypervigilant. But she doesn't pull away either. For the first time in anyone's memory, she's allowing someone close—not in combat where tactical necessity overrides personal preferences, but in care, in maintenance, in context where she could refuse but is choosing to stay still and permit the proximity.