Once the technicians start working on maintenance of the craft more complex than simple welding and painting, I stop assisting them as I would only get in the way.
I climb into the roosterpit while they focus on replacing one of the engines with a new one, which they had just scrapped from another Jaguar, and I adjust everything to suit my form. The previous pilot knew what he was doing, at least, as there isn't much to be improved.
Under my breath, I note, "[The fact is written in Huit, helpful.]" Aesthesian and Huit grammar isn't quite the same. Translation can only get you so far... at least when you translate directly. A better description of what I said would be "Everything's written in Huit. That's nifty." But my point is, having to transliterate in the heat of combat is pretty bad. Being in a familiar roosterpit, however, is pretty good.
...The spaciousness helps, too.