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Taking quiet sips as usual, her eye to slit into her specialty of late, keep it locked for what'd follow next.

It'd rankle enough that a precious weekend was wasted, that teachings had gone plain ignored, but it was also how that rookie arrived—clocking a fair deal past nine o'clock, was a presence declared like a stampede, tirades spat to mortify a sailor. Of that pattern or three to note, none to prove at all promising.

And once bits of paperwork got shuffled into neat piles, not the only one to express her ire either.

"Are yuh kiddin' us, mon? Twenty steps to work and yuh show up like 'dat? And THIS late?"

"Sleep the way I have, and for as long, 'fore ya talk to me. Why nobody took ten seconds to—"

"Do we look like Mama and Papa to ya? Be an adult and be on time, or else be fired immediately."

No weaker excuse and was about to make that clear, but decided against it—scowl in response to turn darker than her drink, daresay Conrad's skin. No problems had keeping him in line, but daresay hadn't a clue of just what he was capable of—virtually the opposite to who'd barrel in next, cutting off the crowd of mutters with a flippant handwave.

"Yes yes I slept in, let the lawsuits come. Now, before we continue, I want us to make welcome the latest crackpot—er, crewman to join us, heh heh…" Raised a finger, only to concede offside, "Hermes, who did we hire this time?"

"The fat mon across me, not just of belly either."

"I could've sworn I—oh who cares? Be lucky to last a day given who's gonna fly with him."

"Oi, raisin-headed fruitcake, that's Captain and co-pilot yer crappin' on."

Though appreciative, was how he'd say it to leave her pursing lips; between exhales, between eye and fists clenched shut, choices questioned unto herself of either continuing the training or cutting losses now, at least until the big screen got powered on.

"Gonna set a new record soon… Okay people, can we finally get going? Stinkbug's been bringin' up my breakfast since we got here."

Everyone to then pay attention as agendas carried on; graph by graph, click by click, pictures of their futures to look bleaker than even she'd believed.

"Our stock price could limbo under a snake, no past customer of ours can recommend us, and we suffer crew deaths as often as we deliver—that is, if we actually GET any requests nowadays. Colleagues, I gotta be level, it's been a most wretched year—were it not for significant drops in resource use, we'd be closing our doors. Right now, can expect to within a week, two if we're lucky."

"Mate, are you for real? So you're tellin' me I'm likely to die a total failure, is that it? And for friggin' nothing?"

"For Jah's sake, if all yuh gonna do is whine, pack it in and be a paperboy! We've no time for such types now."

"Do ya one better, dumb as it'll sound… I've half a grand here with me"—pocketful of cash slapped down—"what's it worth 'round here?"

Instant silence, then a head shake, "Ten thousand shares here and now, but yuh better off paying for toilet paper stead-a—"

Farnsworth to begin glaring holes, and such money mysteries to leave her scratching ponytail—questions of possessing it, and when, to circle inside. Not that any protest subtle or otherwise would deter the rookie.

"Better the chance of turning crap into gold, and not like it'll last long otherwise. So get on with it."

The trade to be finalised in virtually no time—following old laughter akin to madness, a familiar recall of old portfolios, could only seethe in quiet as conferences would end at a quarter to ten, or thereabouts. Certain, knelling bell—damnedest reason—to begin ringing inside, before she'd watch Hermes tear toward the lift sucking big gulps of air, force those doors shut to spare further duress.

Would be called into his office with Mayfield, via the intercom system, just moments later; first chapters of induction to get underway.

"Captain, dumb kid," would address them both. "Have yuhselves some seats."

To not palm her forehead, everything in her power; out of several million citizens, perhaps even the dying to be better qualified, he was who she'd select—whatever was made of him would reflect on her too. And right now, despite any look she could give, he to be too occupied taking in the office's order and tidiness, one she'd admit was masterful as well.

"Mon, much as my job makes me whole, even you tempted me to forget about filing your forms. Why your Captain would call ahead and insist, I've no clue why, but I'd call myself lucky."

"Puh, shoulda just ignored her really. Don't think I deserve any break at—"

"Am I ever gonna know why you—"

"Let's just say I'm serving a life sentence, Captain, and leave it at that."

Hunched into almost a shell, best she could describe, as Hermes would go searching through the shelves in the meantime. Moments later, a sizable volume to pick up and place upon the desk, one to give the kid a sudden spring.

"Calm down would ya? It's just a book, surely yuh had 'em—"

"Gee, ya think? I just didn't imagine you kept the city's tax code on file."

"Okay kid, one,"—she'd pull on a shoulder—"enough with the mouthing off, and two, that's our logo front and centre. In here, every last one of our policies, colour-coded and sectioned, as only one devoted to the craft can deal with. The only other to outrank me, only one I'd quicker agree with."

"Riigghht, and you both expect me to slog through all this? Did that time in the dorms of old, thank you, and didn't enjoy it then."

"Not our bidness if yuh'd rather remain ignorant. Speak 'de plain truth, we'd actually prefer it."

Formalities of handling forms to come next; audible doubt cast over dates of birth, before watching her new Cargo Transport Officer scribble a cursive signature, take that quick snap or two—joke about needing mugshots to not amuse him any. Upon that customary hand of welcome, had to cross arms and flash a wry grin.

"Alright Officer, time to see what stuff you're made of."

"Uhhh, s'cuse me?"

Lips kept sealed once the kid's wrist got wrenched; seconds after, an eruptive shout to 'complete' their interview. Having did so twice or thrice, and never by choice, couldn't call it pleasant to implant a career chip—this puncture however to really hit a nerve, it'd seem.

"YEEEOOOWWW! Dammit, you son-of-a—"

"Mr. Conrad to you—one more word, I'll guarantee wherever you go next makes it really hurt. Now get out of my sight."

Next look to know anywhere, while she escorted him out, though didn't care to reveal why—instead, an excuse of thorough Captain's checks, "real technical stuff", to leave him in Zoidberg's company. While technically true, thought to let his imagination ensure such pragmatism, let what was seen tell the whole story, for want of a motive.

With Amy alongside, manoeuvres from front to fin in near-record time; Bessie to get buffed out, have her engines recalibrated, then given the clear for structural integrity. Once all standards were satisfied and checked off, would descend from bridge just in time to discover her Officer not only on the run, but in gibbers and searching for places to hide.

Nobody to notice any leftover slicks until a great yell was heard; finding the kid on his back, grabbing a tender spot, was on her way to help before Amy beat her to extending a hand.

"Shmich, that looked bad even from my experience. You okay dude?"

"Spine can't take more of this… Gimme a minute, I'll get up myself."

"Come on, can't do everything alone forever. Heck, won't have a choice soon enough."

"It's as I deserve. But if you insist, fine."

Though not immediate, never saw him take anybody's hand, daresay trust enough to be pulled up.

"Latest in our line of sacrificial lambs, huh?"

"I'd bloody hope not. Yet if agendas and paperwork mean anything, guess such odds are against me."

"The numbers are need to know, but I'll say this… Usually Leela doesn't let first impressions last, but for how often they've BEEN her last of late…"

"Ahhh, just gets better and better. Guess I oughta get a will in place, but before I go drafting it, to whom do I owe this pleasure?"

"Miss Amy Wong's the name. I'll help fly ya to safety and engineer it on ground; just par for the course for a PhD in waiting."

"And yet you look younger; way to crush a guy so casually. Thomas Mayfield's mine, mostly last, rarely first. Drifter taking any work he can, and drinker among the flies—even they to avoid me these days… Still, a Bachelor last time I—"

Saw her recoil as if she caught a disease, "Eww, still gonna be one to sound so gross."

"Wait, not quite what I—was just a"—to both their disbeliefs, a volatile switch to overtake him—"Ohhh SCREW this, crew's just provin' I'm better off by myself!"

"Shwhoa, dude, don't get all glorked off… I DIDN'T MEAN—"

Any effort of appeasing matters, for watching him keep walking, to prove wasted breath—moment then to jog over and vie for his attention.

"Look kid, don't mind Amy, okay? She's just quite shallow. And vain. And a little stupid. And tactless. And—"

"Alright Ma'am, I get the point."

"Glad you do. Anyway, we've still some official business; if you'll follow me?"

Unexpected loud gurgle to elicit a frown, point of a finger, "And don't even think about grabbing breakfast, buster. Shoulda thought of that while you slept in."

Re-directing toward the locker room, would extend his invitation to finally call himself crew—was when he'd open what'd been promised to her, that she would look up, betray steam from her nostrils.

"Not even this, huh? Not even an end locker? What's wrong with a break, one stinkin' little break… It's all I axe for, after what I'd let you—"

"Sorry Ma'am, but seriously, what's crawled up yours now?"

"Excuse me? I've enough to twist my sisters as is, alright, so unless you wanna spend a night in there, shut up."

Temptations of giving his throat the Sicily-8 treatment, and damn any hidden cameras or clean-up—instead, mutters of her duties to belay the idea, and help with punching a combo code. It was then that HQ's intercom once more blared to life, whereupon her CEO, crew and colleagues would gather beneath old Bessie—only the first to be in high spirits.

"Good news everyone! Thanks to my shrewd negotiations, I've persuaded a hotel chain owner on Stumbos-4 to give us another chance. We've been tasked with getting these crates of bedding to their local inn—pleasant reminder, of course, that gravity's so high your own hair will crush you. Enjoy!"

Eyeroll had in acknowledging his shooing them off, before she'd stamp HQ's delivery form, return any salutes, then get everybody right to work. Or such'd been the plan, except Mayfield, clutching his tummy, would remain exactly where he stood even in spite of possessing a significant advantage.

"Yo, Officer, we haven't all day! If I gotta order you again to move those crates I'll—"

Got quite the show of head slaps and cussing, to think of coming down anyway, though chose to get on board and confirm her previous status checks. Without question, none better to man the buttons and switches within—even then, couldn't do a thing over the obvious culprit's delay.

"Amy, I know he's a headache and I'm sorry, but please sort that boy out before I do. Startin' to look awful good as a torpedo right now."

Automatic seatbelts to eventually click in, and any shout or scramble for escape to try ignoring with a rise in countdown volume—upon calls of "Blast-off!" she to race Bessie past the horizon like lightning's return stroke, rip everybody backwards into their seats.

"This is what a Captain gets, to grab her crewmates outta Cookieville…"

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As quite the old salt compared to past Captains, crewmates even, had to believe upon easing within starlight that this'd prove as routine a voyage as any.

Yet upon spotting her Officer out of his seat, she could admit to amusing any deviation, with of course a close eye. Every fibre of his being, at a glance, to keep inching forward, keep those eyes open, even though anybody in this era knew there were only stars, planets and moons, comets, odd singularities, chance encounters… The plain and simple facts of stable work, least when HQ had it.

Ordering her AI to take over the wheel, would watch a man already at the void's mercy; snatches of breath every so often, palms trembling over his lips, knuckles to begin chewing off the bone, knees to knock then simply buckle, sending him to the floor. Mind, body and soul to be anywhere else but the mission, and in just five minutes at a generous guess.

"Say kid, wanna do me a favour? How 'bout ya stop gawking and get to your seat, okay?"

Words meant in more a teasing way, yet he again couldn't help but disobey them; better yet, would salt that defiance with hands raised overhead, moves to excuse himself in a hurry. The absolute fiercest of itches to start, even before a mysterious roar and thumps of metal emerged from below.

"Oh how lovely, invader on board." A hip pistol to unsheathe, then toss over. "Miss Wong, you're up to investigate. Any problems, you've my approval to use lethal force, liberal if necessary. Can I count on you?"

"Aye ma'am, be back as quick as I can."

Thirty seconds, then sixty, then ninety to exit her seat, resigned to sorting out yet another scrap for their lives; was only being stopped near the cargo bay chute, finding nary any evidence of such battles, that her cheeks would start reddening.

"Don't tell me, I gotta teach ya how to take the safety off again?"

"With respect Ma'am, that wasn't called for. Just 'cause I'm not sure what to axe doesn't mean I'll shoot first."

"Alright, what in the Jersey-borne Hell are—"

"When I got down there, all I found was that weirdo, and if I didn't know any better, seemed to be crying with his head between his legs."

"Oh for God's sake, as if he's never done anything like this. Swear it's just a simple lack of spine."

"Y'know, crazy as it might sound, I'd at least entertain the idea. Besides, nobody's ever ready for what's out here, YOU know that better than any of us. Anyway, was gonna give comfort, but after this morning, just don't know how."

"Pfft, you and me both. Still, s'pose I'd better take care of things, but while I do, could you stop standing around and get back to your station?"

Oddly, upon actually investigating, her mood to swing just a touch sweeter; far from any supposed crocodile tears—Cookieville taught her well in that regard—would find that Officer staring above, eyes glistening with maybe grateful airs, before they'd redirect her way.

"Maann, back to first days bussing to Glenroy," he'd get out after a breath. "Four years old, confronting whole new worlds at once, so easily overcome and prone to overload… If that's to be the coward on this starship, then—"

"You heard that, huh? Look, if you'd told me that earlier, I wouldn't have—"

"Y'know what, forget I brought it up," he'd rise, try to straighten. "Right now, we've a job to do, it's time I acted my age, and—"

Only a raised eye, a quizzical frown, to weaken that stance, "Ohhh, who am I kiddin'? That kid had NO idea where he'd fly, or even if, yet now he rides above the heavens... Quite the change, after courting seventh levels for so long."

"Can't say I'm any persuaded myself, but let's not deny ourselves further. Shall we?"

With a hand offered, much of him to turn leaden, a heavy drag even to gently coax him back; indeed, rookie to duck into the bathroom and emerge with water dripping down his face, through his beard hairs and out.

"Heh, nice try kid, but this ain't a dream. Welcome to our nine-to-five. Or the odd day or two, depending where we get sent. Either way, all of this is ours, ripe for the exploring."

"Fates be damned… Am I still alive, after I had my head kicked in?"

"Really? Were you always so unable to see past the past? What on Earth's in that head of yours?"

"Little else but vitriol, from old schoolyards to over the landlines," he'd glance back to Bessie's front windows. "All over issues I couldn't know were any to begin with. How much of such a life could you be familiar with?"

Half-lidded eye to complement a grimace, and could swear to twitchy hands, aching to slap his temple.

"You must be kidding, please tell me you are. Actually, remind me to give a tour sometime."

"Stupid as I might sound, Ma'am, I do think there's a difference. For starters, sure never got better as I'd get older. Also, had I tried dishing your ways out, I doubt we'd be having this little chinwag. Everybody knew they'd get no easier target, and they'd never fail to remind me of that."

"Coulda fooled me the first time we met. Up to then, seemed your life was one any orphan would kill for."

"Scars aren't always obvious, and there's a good reason why I'm serving life. Would appreciate you not asking, if it's alright."

"Suit yourself, I suppose." She to then encourage him toward the dashboard. "So what's it like, this first time of yours?"

"Beyond anything imagination can conceive. Everywhere I look, these artists Almighty create a symphony, with crescendos to cherish… Drifting iceballs, glowing hellrocks, rainbows bursting from darkness, bountiful light shows, worlds to rush past our ears, yet it's but the tiniest slither of what's out there. That by ways of colours, shapes, sizes or quirks, can indeed come to represent us."

"Huh, never did strike me as a wordy type."

"Wrote more than I spoke, for none could silence me then. Had to take sights magnitudes above the mundane, to actually express so. If only I had—"

Quick, vicious lurch to send them crashing hard upon the deck; between that and Bessie's alarm-riddled cacophony, knew over getting up and seated that any answers had to wait. Enough experience to have matters controlled within a blink or two—meanwhile Mayfield, caught between keeping on his feet or keeping the noise out, would begin tumbling about upon further attacks.

"Miss Wong, what's going on out there?"

"Guh-oh Captain… We've got Kharmanians on our two and ten, and they're circling back!"

"All over some sheets and blankets? Story of my life, getting types to come and go… Mayfield!"

"Ma'am, who the friggin' shit's shootin' at us?!"

"Bandits, and going by scanners, one dirty dozen of 'em. So forget the noise and get that ass seated—things are gonna get rough."

Upon buckling all their belts, maximum setting, began to wrangle that wheel as experience taught her best; memories to linger of Luna Park and moon-rides, over her Officer's groans. Instant 90-degree pivots to absorb them all in leather, loop-de-loops to hear of head rushes, hairpin turns or inversions to twist their guts into total pretzels…

Might've confused minutes for hours, upon every escape of lasers, manoeuvring through cut-offs, careful lures to send ambushers off in a blaze of glory. Especially to realise that those lizard brains—half-dozen left—were wising up, and in needing a new plan, she had no confidence in ordering it.

"Okay Mayfield, now's the time you set yourself apart. How are you with handling weaponry?"

"Ma'am, you must be mad! Hadn't shot a damned gun in my life—never had to at—"

"We all start somewhere! Now listen, I need you to get up this ladder while I get ourselves some space; moment I say go, man that turret and give 'em everything you've got."

"This is bloody crazy… I just gamed and goofed off, ain't no way—"

Upon a staredown and command of override, which'd unbuckle his seat, instant compliance without further complaint; that to spare him any early bursts, malice amused of making a windsock out of him. Precious seconds to regret however, when the ringleader—scales redder than Bessie's stripe—would bolt ahead, perform a one-eighty and halt her momentum, all in one skilful display.

"Since you can't heed our warnings, you can surrender your lives in PLACE of the loot—Hatchlings, target those sides, and cut those ingrates no slack."

Besides the fact that all the simulations and study couldn't avoid lasers forever, daresay of breaching capability, she'd never been up there once—always had herself a volunteer, whose gaming made them a natural.

"WHAT'S TAKING SO LONG, IDIOT?!"

"Don't you insult me, when nobody's taught me how to turn the bastard—"

"Always a weak link to prepare against… Activate emergency ship-contained energy-based single-blast defence crisis retaliation unit, override code one-zero-seven-seven. Now go, GO!"

Anxieties of air escaping, courtesy of a series of rattling strafes, to form beliefs of lives being over, more so when that commander ordered a formation not unlike two arrowheads. Two great salvos of guaranteed death to close her eye against, only to begin hearing cries for mercy over her comms.

Wasn't her eye trying to play trick, it was an onslaught of their own to overwhelm their attackers; outdated turret little better than her pistols, yet somehow fired with persistent one-two bursts. Extra finger perhaps to prove the key, and though the accuracy wasn't A-grade by any means, it'd be solid enough to create a slew of losses including their leader, and with it, a plea for silence as per supposed tradition.

Ten seconds into hearing rites, however, their lasers to again let rip, now to a chorus of condemnation.

"Mercy? Respect? A chance? There's no having what you never gave… Die as you deserve to!"

With final sprays and results of floating debris, their good ship was granted her victory; though not a fair one, still ever one to savour.

"Huh, dead weight, or only for convincing himself? Okay kid, ease up, all signs of hostiles negative."

The first to initiate the backslaps and cheers, after being first to never believe in him, but the celebrations would be cut short courtesy of a hissing rush of air, one which'd grow fast.

"We've a breach incoming, I repeat, BREACH INCOMING!"

Miss Wong's warning to grab her and barrel for the brigs' end; from that safe vantage, eyed the rookie as he tried scrambling back up. Wishes upon the stars to will him away from harm—they to express other ideas by blowing out a side of her ship, not just snatching his voice, but then his body too.

Upon his slipping out of view, the temptations raged to abort this delivery and get out of there—had just opened both escape chutes when an inhuman howl brought on a change of heart, ordered them shut as she rushed right back to bridge.

Never before seen, prayers for never again—wasn't enough that the abyss would seize him, but had to turn away for how busy it got trying to eject him through and out. Knew then, with only virtual seconds left, that she had to grab her chance, hope their closest planet would provide a best case scenario.

It was to recognise certain qualities that such a break, if barely, would be caught; stumpy conifers beneath clear purple skies, dotted upon lush fields and hills. Tell-tale views to have already graced her windscreen, not that her latest—likely grisliest—casualty allowed her to appreciate them.

"Awww, son of a bitch… Come on kid, stay with me, stay with me."

Few clicks of her device to create a Medical Scanner, and kneel beside—breaks and fractures beyond the dozens, haemorrhages all over to coat everything red, clothes included. Little better than coleslaw for a crewmate, in short, and hated to imagine what Amy, heard coming down the hallway, would say for seeing it.

Even against wavering cries of wanting company, decision made to meet her halfway—nobody else needed this in their memories.

"Holy splap, the shmell happened to—"

"Not another step Wong, and never you mind. Right now we're after a full-body syringe, or can possibly settle for anaesthetic… What are you standing 'round for, get that cotton candy butt to Med-Bay!"

Even for having little hope of easing the kid, gave as soft a head-stroke and speech as manageable in the moment. Difficult enough even without the moving, and upon yells of having no spares left, one made impossibly helpless.

"Fuckin' hell, had so many lightyears to go… Just wanted to fly among your best, Captain."

"So did I—God this sucks. I am so sorry, but take this to heart… Did real damn good out there."

Getting a hand to grip in solidarity, gave a laser blast between the eyes—after a few rites whispered, a quick pat of shoulder, would let go and move for third deck, twirling her pen en-route.

"The life and possessions I'd give, just to have control of matters… This cannot go on, it just can't."

Upon stepping off the last ladder, a series of crate checks to order where the goods were tallied and totalled up, as per standard procedure. What would've been her Officer's duty—no job for a co-pilot of any standing, and such objections to be made quite clear.

"Ma'am, surely my Masters' worth more than this—why's our rookie not out here?"

"You want the actual truth, or what'll be a lot easier to stomach?"

"May as well hear the bad news, to see your clothes."

"Very well. Kid got taken hostage by our bulkhead, after he ended those lizards; had I landed this just moments after, he'd have been sucked out a hole"—pointer and thumb to hover over her eye, but with distance between—"about yay big. Never nice to end a life, but out of mercy, safe to say it was necessary."

"Ohhh, oh for!"—saw her cover her mouth, grab her tummy. "Very first delivery, and he goes like THAT? Wonder if there'll be a payout or—"

"As if. Third casualty since the Friday before, lost count over last year… You think the old bastard back at HQ's gonna give a single red cent, when he can't be bothered with sympathies of late? Doesn't matter now though—this planet ain't any moonwalk, and should we fail now, we're gonna join him."

"Figures—think I oughta call Schwarzkopfin, get ourselves a sponsorship?"

"Uggghhh, not you too. Though it does remind me, be wise to wash all yours out. Trust me, any extra weight's the absolute LAST thing you'll want out here."

"Really Captain? Really?"

"You know damn well what I mean. Feel welcome to ignore me and step out though, we'll see what happens."

Team efforts to enact upon silencing her, no faults had nor corners cut as goods got stacked neat beside their last hover-dolly. Expected nothing else out of elite crew, though to hear a scoff, knew a reality check was warranted.

"Don't be so cocky missy, just 'cause of our anti-grav pump. Out on those hills, I'd lowball these things at two hundred pounds—"

"Oh come on, doesn't sound so—"

"Each. Something else to say?"

A tugging of collars, to know points were made, "I didn't think so, now, here's how it's gonna be. One blanket at a time, then one fitted sheet at a time, eighty full trips from here to Stumbos Inn; yes, that includes returns. Is that all clear?"

"Well, yes, but do you really think we're gonna hold up for even one trip, never mind eighty?"

"Between you and I, was gonna grab a shovel, get to Orbiting Meadows on the way here—been needing a clover's worth of luck lately. But after the choice made then, and especially after what'd happen since, no luck in the universe would be worth desecrating that grave. Not anymore."

"Okay, make our delivery much harder, got it. Ah well, can always call a favour if we fail, right?"

"Don't you go getting any ideas, got it? Of those who possess that power, count 'em on one hand, and can bet I don't trust any of 'em."

"So wait, because your order decrees it, we're just gonna starve together?"

"Hey, don't be such a smartass. For starters, who do you think would, or rather should, pull us out?"

Began tapping a boot for an answer, only to get none, "To kick things off, you really think I'd trust those doormats at the DOOP? Didn't ya hear their case against Brannigan, few years back?"

"Umm, can't say—"

"Well, before my own testimony, they were gonna let him go because of their prosecutor's stupidity. What'd seal his well-deserved sentence, for turning their brand-new, megabucks space HQ into a fireball, was his stupid excuse for 'cross-examining.' Would hoot the courthouse down to hear them say 'Guilty!'—for once, justice was gonna bring its hammer down…"

"Ma'am, your voice is raising a bit, could ya—"

"For just a couple lovely minutes, they made a FOOL believe… No longer Captain, no longer a member in fact, yet was only at Zapp's word that they'd inflict the same judgement on Kif."

Foreign spat to wait out, complete with empty crate kicked, "Why didn't anyone call me 'bout that?"

"You'd bribe yourself a holiday, then blocked our numbers to make sure. So, in days after, both'd come crawling and begging for work—were I that half-second quicker, would've stopped all the botched deliveries, the mutinies kicked off, the mindless arrests… The fat idiot's mission to kamikaze the Neutrals, and leave US in that fireball."

"Man, had no idea. Every bit the bad situation, huh?"

"For sure, but still one I can handle. If ever I owed MomCorp a favour, on the other hand…"

Shake of her head to order work begun in earnest, letting Amy take the lead—watching their dolly lurch, then spit regular sparks, couldn't help but mutter under her breath. Jury rigs only did so much, and of all days, seemed denials for servicing had finally caught up. Upon a brave move forward however, bigger and more immediate problems would present themselves.

"Aiii-aiii-AIIIIEEEEEEEE!"

Co-pilot's stride to get forced into a front split, with barely a blink's delay; instinct then to grab and drag her back onto the platform. A thorough scan to reveal no severe injury, though it'd prove cold comfort as the dolly would hover right out of reach.

"Laws of Fortune strike again. How else shall our Monday begin, huh?"

Right on cue an echo to crack among the clouds, one to drown any deluge of dirty words as mini-meteors—purple rain anywhere else—began pelting upon the fields. Knew Bessie could endure far worse, even against recent battles, yet could only watch her dolly, no doubt due to slight exposure, get pierced enough to burst into titanium scrap.

"ARE YOU FRIGGIN' KIDDING ME?"

"Splammit, I knew we should've used those stupid escape pods… Ah well, guess I can teach ya how to stave off—"

"Not happening Wong. We can still drag 'em by hand; repairs and fuel don't come for free."

"Are you off your rocket? We won't last five seconds out there, especially to have no help. Swear it'll take a miracle to—"

Quivers in her core, as she'd grab Amy's top and glare, "You won't touch it, you won't suggest it, you won't even THINK of it. Should I suspect you've used it, are using it, you'll be wishing you—"

"Shwhoa Ma'am, was only an idea," would raise her hands. "Didn't mean a thing by it."

Only her pet, courtesy of confessions over wine and ice-cream, to also know what she knew—to ensure such a secret stayed that way, crimes worth 25-to-life to cross her mind. Anything to not unleash those histories within, the horrors hidden inside…