Sasha fiddled with the control panel of the ship as Al loaded several black cases of electronic equipment behind the seats. Al stared for a moment, glancing up and down the length of the sleek red ship.
"Sasha?" he asked. She mumbled a reply without looking up. "Is this a fighter ship? Where did you get it?"
"Yes," she answered. "We needed a ship with the option for cryosleep. It's a long trip. Also, we don't know how much resistance we may encounter in a foreign galaxy." She hoped he wouldn't notice that she hadn't answered the second question.
"Have you ever used cryosleep?"
"Once, yes, in Ranger training." Another pause. "Are you boarding or not?" she snapped. Al climbed in and buckled the restraints.
"I took the liberty of packing a few things to keep us entertained while we're in Polaris." Al pulled 6 volumes of 'Lance and Janice' out of a satchel.
"Seriously?" she laughed. Sasha launched the ship, alternating her attention between the navigation screen and the ship's controls. Al watched her for a few minutes.
"Do you still have a thing for Ratchet?" he teased. She closed her eyes for a moment, then slowly turned her head to give Al a burning glare that could melt steel.
"We are currently hurtling through a solar system near light speed. We're about to warp towards a distant galaxy where our mission is to assist ONE savior of multiple galaxies in locating and rescuing the OTHER savior of multiple galaxies. Is that really what is on your mind?" Another question dodged.
"OK, I was just kidding, sorry. "
"Why does everyone assume that any woman's actions towards achievement are just attempts to gain attention from a man?" she growled through her teeth.
"I said I was sorry. It's just that you guys were pretty close and you used to flir-" another glare stopped him cold. The two rode in silence until Sasha piloted safely clear of Eudora's solar system.
Al worked up the nerve to ask one last question. "Clank knows we're coming, right?"
"Coordinates set, engaging cryosleep." Sasha flipped a plastic protector off a red switch and engaged it. A haze of light green gas filled the cabin. Sasha started to drift off first, being the smaller passenger. She willed herself to stay conscious just long enough to watch Al's eyes start to close.
Cryosleep was a strange sensation. Sasha was vaguely aware that a lot of time was passing and that her body wasn't moving. Al's comments remained at the edge of her consciousness.
She remembered her time as Captain of the Phoenix well. That awkward purple uniform that almost matched her hair. The infuriating way Qwark had attempted to undermine her authority at every opportunity. The nights she and Ratchet would spend secretly planning attacks that weren't completely idiotic. She also remembered giggling shamelessly at Ratchet's stories and accidentally kissing him in front of everyone. No wonder Al is hesitant to follow me to Polaris. Sasha gave herself a mild scolding and made a resolution to stop snapping at Al. If I want to be seen as a competent, independent woman, I need to start acting like one.
"Sasha? Captain? We're here," came a sluggish voice. Sasha groaned and opened her eyes. She had a splitting headache. "What is this place?" Al gestured to a massive complex situated right in the center of an asteroid field. Giant angry looking creatures swam gracefully through the space surrounding a large biodome.
Sasha worked her mouth into a smile despite the pain from the aftereffects of cryosleep. "It's a Markazian space station. I think Ratchet and Clank were using its equipment recently," she explained.
"You think? Sasha, I packed up my whole life and left half a dozen clients-"
"So did I! Okay, so this plan of mine isn't as intricately detailed as I'd like. I thought… just this once, I would jump in with both feet. It seems to work for Ratchet, anyway." She made an effort to keep smiling at Al. "I'm very grateful you decided to come with me. So, thank you. "
"You're welcome." Al yawned.
Blaring alarms and flashing warning lights overwhelmed the cabin. The navigation screen automatically switched to a radar display showing an incoming missile.
"Gah!" Sasha yelped as she grasped at her temples. "Al, disengage the auditory warning system." Gritting her teeth through her headache, Sasha reached for the steering yoke and wrenched the ship 90 degrees at the last second. The missile whooshed harmlessly under their seats.
"What was that!?" Sasha began frantically engaging the ship's defenses. A female voice rang out at them through the ship's communicator.
"You picked the wrong station to mess with, drophyd-breath! Move along quickly, now, 'cause I don't miss twice!"