Heather

Like he tells her about Fiji and his five year plan and obviously she's like yeah just give me your milk rations, but she's also very clearly listening.

The words may have been jumbled up over three million years but if Cat learned about Fuchal and Cloister in school, it means Frankenstein had to be listening to Lister in order to tell her children.

And look at the cats in TPL:

Dragons on the wing are vulnerable to being mobbed by smaller, more agile flyers, particularly in your large rear blind spot, like a bird of prey being mobbed by crows. Having a human armed with a long spear perched on your back helps to dissuade anyone from getting any funny ideas.

Breath weapons are impressive enough on the ground, but in flight they're really only good for strafing stationary targets; trying to use your breath weapon in an aerial dogfight is a good way to get fire up your nose. A real fight calls for sterner measures – and, concomitantly, a crew to aim and reload the cannons.

In today's competitive world, it's not enough to devour a flock of sheep and call it a day if you want to keep your edge. You're accompanied at all times by a qualified personal alchemist tasked with carefully regulating your internal furnace to ensure peak performance, and sometimes you even listen to them.

...to be there, but since you weren't, I'll tell it as best as I can.

There they were, fighting a battle nobody cared about enough to send state troops over a world nobody cared about enough to mind having mercenaries on, over a derelict spaceport that would make the place a supply chain goldmine. One of those places that's in the middle of nowhere, but just half-way to everywhere, so you can see why both sides wanted it. Two mercenary units- any more force, after all, and the port itself might be blasted in the fighting.

So the captain of that unit, one Cpt. Dalarje, he got on open comms and told the enemy to make like a groom and bring out their best man. They were to meet in the same grid they'd fought in the day before. He came out in his Starslayer, the enemy brought their Quickdraw, and they squared off to fight-

-when a concealed LRM trooper fired the Inferno round at the Starslayer. It was a point-blank shot, there was no chance of missing, which may have saved Dalarje's life: it didn't have time to arm fully before impact. He caught it. The missile burst in the BattleMech's hand, and with his BattleFist scorched to bare endoskeleton, coated with flame gel so hot it was dripping liquid metal, in one clean hook he punched through the Quickdraw's cockpit and pasted the pilot against his command seat.

Reconditioning a tired or failed engine

Reconditioning a CV shaft or uni joint

Fixing a broken sliding door

Disassembling and reassembling a lock barrel or lock assembly

Fixing a nerf gun (not very finely machined but still fun)

Replacing the timer or chipboard in a chlorinator/pump controller

Fixing pneumatically operated equipment