A/N: Behold my first attempt at writing technobabble!

And as a sidenote for the guest who keeps asking, the scene where Tsukiumi freaked out and went into a panic attack upon seeing Miyajima has been very poorly received, so I'm working on changing the narrative.

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Yeah, What She Said

The Stellar Wing's helmsman cockpit was alive with a steady hum of machinery, blinking lights, and the glowing interface of the ship's navigation systems. The walls glimmered faintly with the faint luminescence of circuitry coursing through the ship.

"Alright, Matsu," Uzume started, leaning on the edge of the console. "So spill it. What makes this thing go zoom?"

Matsu lounged comfortably in her swivel chair, her legs crossed like a pretzel and a mischievous grin playing on her lips as she monitored the myriad of holographic displays in front of her. Yashima stood nearby, her arms crossed, trying to look serious despite her increasingly perplexed expression. Commander Takami leaned against a console, arms folded, watching the others with a look that suggested equal parts interest and exasperation.

"Zoom? Uzume, this isn't a tricycle." Matsu spun her chair to face them, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. She adjusted her glasses dramatically, summoning a spinning hologram of the Stellar Wing's drive core. "Behold! The beating heart of our fine ship: the Helios X-T90 Multi-Stage Fusion Drive Core. It's a marvel of modern engineering and MBI's unrivaled genius. In layman's terms, it makes warp-speed dreams come true. We're talking about a phased-muon cascade engine, coupled with a dual-axis quantum stabilizer. It's like a fusion reactor got drunk and married a particle accelerator in Vegas."

Yashima blinked, already lost. "Uh... so, it makes us go fast?"

Takami cleared her throat. "Yashima, don't dumb it down. It also keeps us from turning into molecular goo."

Benitsubasa, who lounged in the passenger's seat to Matsu's right, raised an eyebrow upon kicking her feet up on the dash. "Cool story. How does it actually work?"

"I'm glad you asked!" Matsu clapped her hands together and projected a cascade of complex schematics into the air. "First, the drive core uses controlled nuclear fusion to superheat a plasma mix of hydrogen isotopes—deuterium and tritium. Then, the magnetic confinement system directs the plasma through a series of magnetic nozzle arrays to produce thrust. Simple!"

Uzume snickered. "Simple? That sounded like a science fiction mad lib."

Chiho tilted her head. "Wait. Doesn't that mean it's, um, really dangerous? Like, kaboom dangerous?"

"Absolutely," Matsu replied cheerfully. "But that's what makes it exciting! Our core operates at temperatures hotter than the surface of the sun. You know, casual Thursday stuff."

Yashima frowned in confusion. "But what if the magnetic field collapses? Wouldn't we be... vaporized?"

"Yes!" Matsu replied brightly, spinning her chair toward Yashima. "But don't worry. There's only, like, a 0.0001% chance of catastrophic failure. Probably."

"I still don't like those odds." Akitsu finally chimed in, her voice monotone yet tinged with curiosity. "Fusion process efficiency must generate immense waste heat. How is it managed?"

Matsu gestured to another diagram. "We have heat exchange panels lined with thermal supercapacitors to redistribute energy into the ship's auxiliary systems. It's basically the space heater of the gods."

"So are we like, traveling faster than light right now?" Chiho asked, taking a look outside, watching the warp bubble the ship was contained in distort, deform, and flex."

Matsu nodded sagely. "No, that's something we save for hopping from star to star at the edge of a solar system. If we were we would be at Mercury in minutes, not days. But as I was saying, the phased-muon cascade doesn't just make us go fast; it makes us go smooth. Without it, we'd be riding a cosmic bucking bronco every time we accelerated past 0.1c."

Yashima scratched her head. "So... it's like the shock absorbers on a car?"

Matsu snorted. "Oh, Yashima. Shock absorbers are for amateurs. This baby operates on the principle of temporal-phase harmonics. It literally warps the subspace field around the ship, so instead of movingthroughspace, we're nudging space aside like it owes us money."

Takami's lips twitched. "Nudging space, huh? That's your professional explanation?"

"Hey," Matsu said, wagging a finger. "It works, doesn't it? The muon cascade is stabilized by a feedback loop from the quantum flux chamber. That's the real genius part. It's like... like having a cat on a Roomba that knows exactly where to go and how to keep the furniture intact."

Yashima frowned. "I don't think that makes any sense."

Takami smirked. "It makes sense in Matsu-logic. Continue."

Matsu spun back to her console dramatically. "Fine. The quantum stabilizer keeps the drive core from overloading by syncing the fusion reactor output with the gravitational wave harmonics of the local star system. Basically, the Stellar Wing dances with the universe, and I'm the DJ spinning the tracks."

Yashima looked dubious. "If you're the DJ, what does that make VIR?"

"A hype man, obviously," Matsu said without hesitation. "He's the one who calculates the trajectory corrections when the universe tries to throw us offbeat. Without him, I'd be flying blind without a norito boost."

Yashima tilted her head. "But... don't you also calculate trajectory corrections?"

"Yes," Matsu said, grinning. "But VIR does it with panache."

Takami's expression darkened slightly. "Just don't let that panache send us careening into Mercury's surface, alright?"

Matsu waved her off. "Relax, Commander. This ship's drive core is so advanced, it practically flies itself. Besides, if something goes wrong, we've got Yashima here to punch it back into shape."

Yashima blinked, alarmed. "What? I don't think I can punch quantum harmonics!"

Matsu turned to her, deadpan. "Not with that attitude."

"Back to the drive core thingy though, if it gets too cold, we can, like... roast marshmallows on it?" Musubi asked, grinning. She had been silent the whole time trying to process what in the hell Matsu was saying.

"Sure!" Matsu said, clearly in the zone. "If you enjoy turning into marshmallows yourself. Just don't touch the panels; they'd fry you faster than a summer barbecue."

Benitsubasa scoffed. "Sounds like overcomplicated nonsense. Why not just strap a bunch of rockets on and call it a day?"

Matsu gasped as if personally insulted. "Rockets? ROCKETS?! That's like suggesting we use coal-powered steam engines! The Helios X-T90 is a precision instrument! The Mona Lisa of propulsion systems! The Tolkien of engineering!"

"She's a little dramatic about her engines," Uzume whispered to Chiho, who giggled.

"Hey, at least it's not nuclear spaghetti," Matsu added with mock gravity.

"...What?" Yashima blinked.

"Oh, you know," Matsu waved dismissively. "Some theoretical drives use exotic matter that tangles spacetime into a 'stringy mess.' Highly impractical. Probably tasteless. Unlike fusion cores, which are savory, robust, and reliable. Now, who wants to play with the containment parameters?"

"Absolutely not," Chiho said quickly.

"Can't we just admire the stars like normal people?" Benitsubasa muttered.

Uzume smirked. "You call this 'normal'? You're standing in a spaceship powered by an artificial sun."

"And complaining," Matsu added with a wink. "Ungrateful, much?"

Takami groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Alright, enough. Matsu, just keep us on course, and no more cat-on-a-Roomba analogies. We've got a crew to keep alive."

"Roger that, Commander," Matsu said with a mock salute. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to fine-tune the temporal alignment on the phase coupler. Can't have us arriving at Mercury with a core that's only half in this dimension."

Yashima gave up trying to follow and leaned closer to Takami. "Does anyone actually understand what she's talking about?"

Takami sighed. "If she's not lying, that's all I need to know."