Technophile in context of ERP sounds somewhat pervy and naughty
And drones. Yes, drones. Where's Muck Racker?
If Elmund could take his warships out on candlelit dinner, he would. However, Breachers do not feed on anything but fuel, power and the sorrow of their enemies and every restaurant has restrictions against starships.
Elmund was walking along the Breacher hull, moving his huge masculine palm on her soft shiny, but rusty looking ferrite plating. He stopped for a moment and looked at ship's cockpit, she was standing tall and long, whole 185 meters near tiny him, with her foils reflecting shining light of hangar lamps. Elmund put his second palm on her hull, fingers wide, and moved his arms apart, sliding and touching her with whole hands, and slowly moving his face down, until his lips landed on a smooth armor plate. He looked at his reflection and kissed her, tilted his head and landed with his cheek on this plate, right where he kissed her before, closing eyes and moving his palms wide around her hull affectionately: she was his, completely, from this armor plate to the last bolt.
He stood back, grabbed firmly fueling hose, breathing deeply, his second palm was slowly sliding towards her filling cap, touching her hull all the way through, still looking at her cockpit...
* screen fades to black *