So, I originally wasn't going to update until Thursday (6/7/2018) but then I found out we get my brother Wednesday and Thursday, and I won't have the time to actually make the post. So you get an early update ;)

the cycle starts again

Lady Cravenheart

2.

Gibson does a brief examination before releasing her from the med-bay. It takes all of ten minutes, but by the end, he's satisfied with her health readouts. Nova returns her gun to her and Otto passes her the blueprints before the two of them scurry over to where Sprx is hunched over the bridge console. He left about halfway through Gibson's examination, to make sure the Super Robot was ready for spaceflight.

The walls have slid aside to reveal the large, theater sized screen to the world. A small circle in the upper corner displays all the life signs in the area. In one of the bottom corners, a readout displays the coordinates, the weather, the temperature, and other such useful things. It almost reminds her of a gamescreen on the RPGs she likes to play.

She sits in one of the orblike chairs. Specifically, the orange one. It's more comfy than she would have imagined, though the blinking lights on the sides are a bit distracting. She's not entirely sure what to do with herself, to be honest.

"Are you sure you don't want to stop in Shuggazoom to get your things?" Antauri asks.

She nearly starts at his voice. His approach was entirely too silent. She masks her shock quickly and turns to him, putting on a bright smile. "I'm sure. If I go back now, there's a good chance they won't let me leave—even if you guys are with me."

He nods. "I see."

"Thanks anyways, though. I'll make do."

"I'd offer you some of Chiro's things… but we no longer have any of them."

She shrugs. "It's fine—really. You have to stop for fuel at some point, and I know a stop not too far from here that's really close to a place you can get clothes for cheap. My wallets in my pocket—I don't go anywhere without it—and I can just use my credit chit [LP1] to buy some. Hygiene supplies too." She waves her hand.

Antauri crosses his arm. It doesn't look threatening; just casual. "You thought this through."

"Of course," she says. Charlie hates being away from the base. It might not be home per se, but it's where her father is. Being away… It made her uneasy. Jumpy. She was constantly having to go to the nurse for pills to settle her stomach. One of the only things that made it better was imagining all the ways she could escape from Shuggazoom and get back to him.

She had never planned to use them. But now…? Now, she has no other choice.

"I see."

Charlie wonders if he can really read minds. It was one of the more ridiculous theories out there… but hearing the surety in his voice… She gives herself a mental shake.

"Yo, Charles! What are the coordinates?" Sprx asks. He sits in the red chair. A wheel has slid up from the floor; a holo-screen obscures his face. His fingers hover over a keypad to his right.

Charlie makes a face. "Ugh. No. Pick a new nickname."

"Aw, but I like that one."

"Call me Charles and I'll call you Sparky." She glowers.

He rolls his eyes. "Alright, alright. I'll pick a new one. Now, the coordinates please?"

She repeats them dutifully and watches as his fingers fly over the keys. He clicks a few other things, then says— "Buckle up, everybody. Exiting the atmo is gonna get a bit rocky."

Antauri leaves her side; his steps near silent. He sits in his chair and straps the seatbelt around himself. The others do the same. Charlie buckles herself in as well, and reaches down to grasp the strap on her gun. She doesn't want it rolling everywhere, after all. Or, activating and firing every which way. That would suck too.

The ride starts out smooth, but as Sprx warned—the minute they hit atmo, things get bumpy. Charlie's teeth rattle and shake as her head swings from side to side. She presses her back harder into the cushions and grits her teeth. She hates this part.

It's over quickly enough. They leave the endless sky behind them in favor of billions upon billions of stars; shadows dancing between them. As far as Charlie is concerned, it looks like home.

She relaxes in her seat.

"You couldn't have made that any smoother?" Nova asks; her safety harness disappears back into its confines. "I thought you said you were the best pilot this end of the cosmos!"

Sprx crosses his arms. "Hey, the Super Robot's been in sleep mode for over twenty years, Nova, and it's only been on for three hours. I haven't even run a full diagnostic yet! So excuse me if things are a little bumpier now."

Gibson sighs. He leans into Antauri—both already up and standing at the console—and says, "I thought their newfound 'relationship' would tone down the bickering, not make it worse," he whispers.

"There is a reason the saying 'bickering like an old married couple' exists," Antauri says wisely.

Gibson sighs again; heavier this time. "I suppose. I do wish they would can it for a couple hours."

"To be fair," Otto says from his place beneath the console, "we did have over twenty years of silence."

"We were asleep. That doesn't count."

Otto shrugs. "Yeah, but, normally when we sleep there's some kind of noise. Like your sleep-babble or my snoring. In stasis… there's nothing."

"I suppose. I still say it doesn't count."

Charlie slips out of her own seatbelt and hoists her gun on her back. "Hey, guys?" she says.

Sprx and Nova turn to look at her. Charlie takes a second to observe them. They aren't standing as if they were arguing heatedly; their bodies are turned into each other… a display of intimacy instead of anger or annoyance. She can't help but feel as though she interrupted something.

She presses on, regardless. "So, I know I just took a nap earlier, but the adrenaline is finally started to leave my system. I'd rather not crash in one of the chairs. You got somewhere for me to stay?"

The two exchanged a look before Nova gave a sharp, short nod. "Yeah. This way." The two squeeze together into the yellow tube and Nova clicks something on the map. Charlie's stomach bottoms out as they fly upwards. She tightens her fist around the blueprints, crinkling them. Just like before, it comes to a halt almost as quickly as it started. A dimly lit hallway is revealed to her. Nova flips up one of the pieces on her arm and taps something into a holopad that appears. The lights brighten.

On one side of the hall are six multicolored tubes; pressed close together, with barely half a foot of space between them. On the other side of the hall is a door.

Nova gestured to it. "That used to be Mandarin's office, but we converted it into a bedroom when Chiro stayed with us. You can stay there or you can use one of the sleeper pods… though I don't think humans like them much."

Charlie shrugged. "They're not that bad… but I prefer a bed if I can get one."

Nova nods. "We removed the passcode on it, so you don't have to worry about typing anything in. If you need anything, there's a console that allows you to access a private communications channel, or send a message."

"Thanks." Charlie smiles.

"We'll wake you when it's time to grab fuel. We'll need to get food, and you'll need spare clothes."

Charlie's eyes light up. "Oh! That reminds me. There's a really great fuel stop near here that has easy access to a good place for supplies and clothes. Let me give you the coordinates so you can pass them on."

Nova signals her to give them and Charlie recites them easily. They part ways. When Nova disappears back downstairs, Charlie opens the door.

The room is spacious for a bedroom on a ship. She's been on larger vessels whose bedrooms look more akin to a closet then a place designed for sleep. It's barren, too. A chest of drawers is bolted to the floor. A full length mirror hangs on the wall. A console/desk hybrid is in one corner next to an empty bookshelf. A sliding door conceals a closet. The bed is full sized—larger than her bed back at the dorms—and dressed in white sheets with a light blue blanket.

She hangs the gun in the closet—she'll find a better place for it later—and drops her goggles and the blueprints on the desk. She shucks her outer clothes and shoes, letting them fall in a messy pile on the floor of the closet, leaving her in just her underwear. She slips her hair from its ponytail and wears the elastic around her wrist like a bracelet.

Then, she flops into bed and yanks the blankets over her shoulders. They're soft and clean—not what she expected after twenty years. But, then—she yawns—the whole Super Robot is less dusty than she would have expected. Maybe they have automatic cleaner robots… or dust repellant?

Whatever the case, she's glad she doesn't have to shake out her bed. She's not entirely sure she could move right now.

Her eyes slide shut.

She wakes to a knock on the door.

"Charlie?"

Ugh. What time is it? She's pretty sure she's not supposed to have any classes today.

Charlie rolls over; hand reaching out to grab her clock. All she finds is empty space.

What the—?

She sits up; the blanket falling and exposing cool air over naked skin. This isn't her dorm room.

"Charlie? We got to that stop you mentioned?" Female. Uncertain. Vaguely familiar.

Where has she heard that voice…?

Holy shit.

It all comes rushing back. The data chip. The formless. The alchemist's lab. The gun. The hyper force.

That's Nova at her door.

Charlie sucks in a breath. Holy shit.

She throws the blanket off her legs. "Be there in a minute!" she calls. She waves the closet open—motion activated doors are the best—and scoops her clothes into her arms. She dumps them onto her bed and then starts picking through them. Tank and leggings on first. Then her blouse. Skirt. Blazer. Shoes. In lieu of a brush, she runs her fingers through her hair a few times, taking care of the largest knots. She pulls her hair into a ponytail and snaps the band around it as she steps out the door.

Nova is leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed casually over her chest.

Charlie smiles. "How long was I out?"

"Three hours," Nova says.

"Huh."

"Surprised?"

"Yeah. Most people take about five hours to reach this rest stop!" Charlie shakes her head, the corner of her mouth pulled up in a smile. "I guess they really don't call Sprx the best pilot for nothing!"

"Well, don't tell him that," Nova says with a laugh. "He's got a big enough head already!"

Charlie chuckles. "My lips are sealed."

They whoosh down the elevators again, squeezing into the yellow pod. Her stomach still drops to her feet, but it's nothing like it was at first. She doesn't think she'll ever enjoy the rush of the elevators, but at least the urge to scream was dying down.

They bypass the bridge and go straight down to the exit at the foot. The others have already gathered around the fuel pump; Otto in the process of hooking it in as they walk out. Charlie goes over to lean against one of the struts supporting the hood over the station.

"I thought you were going clothes shopping." Sprx's voice sounds mild but he squints suspiciously at her.

She sends him a thousand-watt smile. It takes him off guard. "Of course I am. But someone's gotta pay for the fuel, yeah? And I really don't think any of you have an up to date credit chit. I mean, you might be able to get it for free by waltzing in and announcing the Hyper Force has returned, but I really don't think you want to do that until you've talked to the resistance."

Sprx deflates. "Right. Didn't think of that."

Neither had the others, if they way they shift from foot-to-foot is any indication. Antauri, hovering in the lotus position above their heads, is the only one who seems unbothered.

Emphasis on seems.

"You gonna be able to afford it all?" Otto asks hesitantly, wringing his tail between his hands.

Charlie waves a hand. "I'm a trust fund baby. Don't worry about me." She winks.

Dad didn't have a lot of family. Parents died when he was little, and his aunt and uncle shipped him off to boarding school—same one she attended now, actually. But a few years before Charlie came into the picture, said aunt and uncle passed away. His uncle was an only child, and the heir to a vast fortune. Neither of them had drawn up a will before they passed, and as the only living family member, it had gone to him.

"Doesn't the resistance need that money?" Gibson asks.

Charlie smiles wryly. "When I say resistance, what are you guys picturing? A ragtag team of heroes, on the outskirts of the cosmos? Scraping to get by?" She shakes her head. "We've got entire planets behind us. And even if we didn't, getting you guys and this data back to the base would be an acceptable use of funds. Believe me."

"You've got people, then?" Nova asks. "Couldn't you just pass the information onto someone else? Why does a teenage girl have to deliver it?"

"Why'd a teenage boy have to fight Skeleton King?" Charlie threw back. "Why'd a teenage boy have to lead an army? Why'd a teenage boy get chosen to wield one of the greatest powers in the universe?"

None of them would look at her.

She softened a bit. "It's because we have so many people that I can't trust just anyone to deliver this. You know how easy it would be for big bad to shove some spies into our ranks? Damn easy. Not something we're proud of, but we take every able-bodied soldier we can get. You gotta work up the ranks, prove yourself. And even then we operate with varying levels of secrecy. Only reason they trust me is because I was raised in it." Absent mindedly, she fingered her pocket. "This info needs to go straight to the top. I'd prefer to only put it in my dad's hands."

"What about Chiro's?" She doesn't think she's imagining the trace of hostility in Sprx's voice.

She ignores it. "His too. But people don't just waltz into his office, you know?"

Sprx deflates again.

There's a beep. "Done!" Otto replaces the fuel nozzle. "Let's pay. Where do we pick up rations?"

"You can order them at the counter. I'll take care of it." Charlie pushed off the wall and pulled her wallet out. She made a beeline for the store, trailed by five multi-colored monkeys.

At least they wouldn't make a scene.

…she wondered how they would react to knowing there were other cybernetic monkeys out there? Not only had there been intelligent simian species lurking on the corners of the galaxy, but after the Hyper Force had disappeared, cybernetic animals had been all the rage for the mad scientists of the world.

Well, Charlie isn't going to be the one to tell them.

She walks up to the counter. "Pump six," she says.

The cashier is a luryant. A luryant looks a bit like the mythical centaur, with the torso resembling a humans and their lower body akin to a small horse. They have four eyes. Rather than a nose, they have too small slits where a human's nostrils would be, and a small mouth consisting of pointy teeth. Despite this, most are entirely vegetarian—the teeth adapted to the tough fruits of their home planet, Seppha.

Seppha was gorgeous. Charlie had only ever been twice, but both times, she never wanted to leave. Sweet air, devoid of any sort of pollution. Blue, blue skies; deep purple flowers and trees; vibrant green grass… Not to mention the absolutely lovely structure of their houses.

The luryant behind the counter—Venub, by the nametag—had been born female. The deep purple fur gave her away. (Males came in shades of yellow, red, and orange, while females were usually purple, blue, or green.) However, it was impolite to assume—even if most luryants stuck to the gender binary, there was always someone who didn't.)

Venub pulls pump 6 up onto the computer. "That'll be 600 credits."

Charlie swipes her chit and signs off on the purchase.

"Will that be all?"

Charlie shakes her head. "We're making a long trip, and our rations are low. We've got a six person crew, and we're not making another stop for at least two weeks, galactic standard. Maybe even a month."

Venub nods. "Understood. Our rations come through the Strexa Empire company. Do you have an account with them?"

"I do!" Charlie smiles, and rattles off the account number and verifications as asked.

"We can have those ready and delivered in about an hour and a half."

Someone who sounds vaguely like Sprx begins to sputter. Then, yelp. Charlie doesn't even want to know. "That'll be fine. Do I swipe now?"

"Yes. You would normally be paying 700 credits, but because of your member ship, you'll be paying 500. Further reductions will happen during your yearly membership review."

Charlie nods, and swipes her card again.

"Please have someone ready to receive the shipment. Thank you for shopping with us, and have a great day."

"You too." Charlie steps away from the counter, guiding the monkeys out, and lets the person behind them takes the next slot.

"I'll stay with the robot," Otto volunteers.

"I really don't think it's going to take me an hour and a half to shop," Charlie says dryly. "But alright."

Otto just winks. "You never know." He skips off back toward the robot, humming a tune to himself.

"Anybody else want to go with him?"

"You tryna ditch us, kiddo?" Sprx raises an eyebrow.

Charlie rolls her eyes. "Watching me shop is going to be boring," she says.

"So is waiting by the fuel pump."

"Point." She waves a hand. "Come if you want, then."

She leads the four remaining monkeys over to the nearest convenience store. She grabs a cart and makes a beeline for the hygiene products. Dental first.

"Don't they include that stuff with the rations kit?" Sprx asks, as Charlie tosses a pack of disposable toothbrushes into the cart.

"Okay, first thing you gotta know about the rations kit," Charlie says. "Straxa is known for their high quality food and excellent medical kits, which is why the resistance primarily buys from them. But they're not known for great hygiene kits. Plus, I'm allergic to the toothpaste they include."

"We'll need to go over allergies when we get back to the ship," Gibson says after a pause.

"Can do," Charlie affirms. She tosses some toothpaste in the cart, then turns down another aisle. She grabs one of the bulk boxes of pads and tosses it into the cart. After a moments consideration, she tosses a second one in. Better safe than sorry.

(She can't wait to reach twenty-one. Hormone shots are a blessing in space. Of course, she'll probably one of the unlucky who don't get approved into they're twenty-five.)

Next: shower items. Conditioner, shampoo, body wash, shaving cream, razors, and moisturizer. She tosses her favorite cheap brands into the cart and then moves along.

Hair care. Simple enough—a brush, a package of hairbands, and a headband. Done.

"Now, clothes."

A woman on a mission, she makes her way toward the clothing aisles. A few packs of underwear, three bras—all comfortable and made for activity. For day clothes, she tosses five pairs of leggings; two skirts; and five t-shirts into the basket, primarily looking at price over style. She gets a pack of socks.

Pajamas are easy. A pack of tank tops from the men's section; some sleep shorts and sweatpants from the woman's.

Her shoes are good enough. She grabs one pair of jeans and a jacket, just in case it gets cold. A wardrobe built, she makes her way over to the self-checkouts.

Between the five of them, they get her items scanned and bagged quickly, and then Charlie is swiping her card for a total of 150 credits. She grimaces. 500 on supplies; 600 on fuel; and now 150 on clothes and self-care. At least her dad is the understanding type. He's not going to be happy that she's somehow found a destiny tied up in the monkey team—great of an honor as it is, it means she's going to be a hell of a lot closer to the front line than any parent wants their child.

They carry them out to the Robot and still have an hour to go before their rations are brought out.

"I don't really think you bought enough winter items," Gibson fusses.

"I don't plan on making too many stops," Charlie says. "We'll head straight for the base—on Koralodal, by the way. I've got a much better wardrobe there, and I can pack for all sorts of weather. Though… that's counting on the fact that they let me leave with you."

Sprx screws up his face. "Let you— Not just anyone can pull that switch, you know! You're our leader now, kiddo."

Charlie shrugs. "Maybe. But I'm also seventeen. And that might be legal age on some planets, but on Shuggazoom—where my dad and I are from, so that's what we use—it's eighteen. So he gets final say on whether or not I go with you guys, and I'm not sure how much destiny and fate is going to sway him when it comes to my life being on the line.

"If I try to leave anyway, I'm going to be a runaway, and they'll be well within their rights to track me down and bring me back, even if that's kicking and screaming. Not to mention, they would freeze my account—meaning no more fuel and supplies. We can probably find a way around the fuel bit, but it's going to be more difficult to get around the rations. I guess you could try opening your old account on Shuggazoom, but they'll be watching for that, and they'll be able to track any payment we make. Doesn't help that the Super Robot is a very distinctive ship.

"This isn't like before. Chiro was an orphan. Before you guys, he might as well have been nameless. I know that sounds callous, but unfortunately, it's true. His surviving relatives didn't care about him until he was famous, and by then, he didn't care about them. There was no one coming to claim him." She shrugs. "Me? I was raised by a small village of people, and if they decide rolling around the cosmos in a giant robot is too dangerous, well. It's going to be pretty hard to get around."

Sprx falls quiet.

Charlie sends the team a small smile. "Worst comes to worst, we'll figure something out. Right now, let's just focus on getting to the resistance base, yeah?" She inclines her head toward Gibson. "I'm going to go set my stuff up in my room, and then we can have that medical history talk, if you want."

Gibson nods. "Alright."

[LP1]Shamelessly stolen from Mass Effect.