(Genesis) Chapter 2

Pride: Genesis

Chapter 2

Explorers

Dawn found Flynn in Auxiliary Hangar Four, now that they actually had a ship there. He'd checked it out as best he could and everything seemed okay—well, depending on one's definition of okay—everything seemed functional, anyway. Now he sat in the doorway of the main hatch, looking at the smaller Savanna-class shuttle berthed next to them. It had a purple octopus painted on its nose, just above the name Redwing… someone was confused, clearly, and he wasn't so sure it wasn't him.

The hangar was mostly deserted at this hour, aside from the supervisor who kept dropping by to give him a disapproving glare. He was pretty sure the man resented having to actually work this early. It was annoying him, and he couldn't have been happier to hear familiar voices approaching.

Upon arrival Sergeant Brown had escorted Keith to the ship, which was tucked away in a back berth next to a pair of short range shuttles. He paused at a distance and frowned slightly, studying it; he wasn't terribly familiar with the Endeavor-class. It didn't appear to be anything special.

"Well… it's a ship."

Brown offered a sympathetic look, then startled slightly as he turned to look behind them. Keith followed his gaze and saw their pilot approaching.

"Hey, it's a party!" McClain winked at Brown, who stammered something that probably passed as a greeting. "Here she is, huh?"

"So it appears."

Circling around the ship they found their chief engineer sitting at the top of the boarding ramp. "Morning, Kogane." He nodded to Lance and arched an eyebrow at Brown. "Are we abducting someone? That seems like a bad start."

Keith chuckled. "Morning, Kleid."

"We could totally abduct the Sarge here," Lance smirked. "I like him."

"No abducting!" Explorer Teams. "He was just giving me a ride and showing me to the ship."

"She's easy enough to find," Flynn pointed out, "she's the one painted up like a pirate ship. You two need a rundown?"

It was hard not to grin a little at the pirate ship comment; the Firecrown had been painted in bland gray primer and the patchwork mess common to low-budget spacefarers. It did make it look like a pirate ship. All it needed was a Jolly Roger on the side…

His second had asked a question and Keith decided it would be better to focus on that. "I could use one. McClain, have you ever flown this class before?"

"Once in training, I think? Maybe?" Lance shrugged. "Doesn't really matter though, I can fly anything."

No doubt. "We'll see about that," Keith said softly, nodding. "So, Mr. Kleid, what's the status? Flyable?"

Lance side-eyed him, clearly unimpressed by the vote of confidence. Flynn broke in before he could say anything. "That's a word for it." He shook his head. "This thing's an interstellar puddle jumper. Nothing screams 'we have no idea what you're doing' like assigning an Endeavor."

"Not surprising, really." Glancing around he noted that Brown seemed to have made his getaway. "Well, let's see about having that grand tour."

"Yeah, introduce this girl to her soon to be favorite pilot!"

Their engineer smirked and stood, gesturing for them to follow. "The Endeavor's built for versatility." He keyed the code in for the inner hatch and started for the bridge. "It's very good at that, so naturally it's not good at anything else."

"Don't knock being versatile," Lance protested. "It's handy."

"Who's knocking it? Just don't want anyone to get unreasonable expectations."

"Will it get the job done?" Keith asked, frowning.

Shrug. "Ought to suffice. I mean, I'm none too certain what they expect two Shrieker missile tubes to do for us if we actually run into the Galra, but…" He looked at Lance and seemed to think better of continuing on that track, then stopped at a hatch. "Here's the bridge, go get acquainted or whatever you do."

Lance had thoughts on the missiles, but the bridge was of much more immediate interest. He went straight for the helm, studying the controls. Nothing fancy, pretty standard except for a manual thruster reset. No problem. "Oh yeah, I can make her fly like a dream." He dropped into the seat and almost immediately regretted it. Well fuck. "This seat is not comfortable."

"This one either," the boss grimaced from the command chair behind him. "But it's what we have to work with for now."

"The seats aren't comfortable," Flynn muttered just loud enough for them to hear. "Flyboys are adorable."

"Damn right I'm adorable." Lance turned back to him and winked. "Maybe get me some cushions."

He rolled his eyes and smirked back. "Get your own, I'm not an interior decorator."

Keith coughed, none too subtly covering up a laugh. "You might have time to get them before we launch, McClain. But you'll have to be fast."

"That's a specialty."

"I'm sure." He stood carefully, not quite trusting the command chair… which apparently wasn't all wrong. As he stood it listed heavily to one side. "Well, this ought to be interesting."

His second mock-glowered. "Breaking my ship already, Kogane? I'll fix it later, come on."

"How old is this ship, anyway?" Keith followed him out into the main corridor, frowning back at the tilted seat. It was a minor problem, all told, but didn't seem like the best omen.

"Hull went down about sixty years ago, if you believe the documentation…" Flynn paused at the next door and made a face. "Crew quarters are right here behind the bridge, and I'm pretty certain someone got murdered in there at some point. On a related note, we have six passenger rooms."

Both of them snapped their heads up. "What?"

"Murdered? Is there blood?"

"How bad is it?"

Shrug. "It's either blood or hydraulic fluid, and I prefer to believe the last crew wasn't inept enough to spring a hydraulic leak in the crew quarters."

"Right." Keith hesitantly pushed the hatch open and gave a low whistle. There were four double bunks, with rusted and slightly bent frames and the typical flimsy foam mattresses. Most likely he wouldn't have trusted them anyway. But the dark red-tinged stain that had seeped permanently into the floor was not helping anything. "Maybe we could turn this into a conference room… after you've double checked to make sure there isn't a hydraulic leak."

This time the glower he got was a lot less amused. "What do you think I've been doing here?"

"Your job," Keith retreated diplomatically. "Just making sure."

"Either way there's one hell of a story to tell there," Lance commented before Flynn could respond. "Maybe it's haunted." Keith blinked and turned, giving him an odd look; he grinned back. "Don't like ghost stories?"

"Trust me, McClain, you don't want a ghost on board." Some incidents back on the Vesuvius, which he really would rather have forgotten about, helpfully sprang to the front of Keith's mind. "They can be a nightmare in running a ship…"

Flynn rolled his eyes, and Lance smirked. "Like being kept on my toes, boss."

Boss. The word hit him hard and he hesitated. That's what you are, you know. You're going to have to get used to it sooner or later. For a moment he felt unmoored, then shook it off and turned back to his second. "Carry on, please, Mr. Kleid."

"Would you stop that 'Mr.' nonsense, Kogane?" Flynn started down the corridor again. "I'm not old enough."

Lance laughed and Keith sighed. "Very well."

Explorer Teams. Again.

They turned a couple of corners, then stopped at a cross corridor. "Passenger rooms are here." Flynn gestured widely. "They're okay. Pack light." He started past.

"Not gonna show us around?"

"I'm not a real estate agent, either."

Keith snorted and gave the nearest room a quick peek. It was small, but the bed frame seemed to be in its proper shape and the floor was lacking in mysterious red stains. "Okay, I'll take your earlier recommendation. They'll do much better than the crew quarters will."

Flynn nodded, then stopped again as the corridor ended in a heavy bulkhead. "Okay, this part's important."

"Engine bay?"

"Not quite that important." He keyed in the code once he had their full attention, stepping into a large and very empty room. "The cargo bay has full shielding, but no countermeasures. So it can't be scanned but anyone attempting it will know it can't be scanned." He gave Keith a pointed look. "This isn't a smuggling ship, it's intended more to keep signals in than out. You understand."

Keith understood. "Good to know." Certain ports would demand inspection of any cargo bay they couldn't scan—guilty until proven innocent. "And we'll look suspicious enough as it is." He turned to Lance, who didn't quite seem to be following the unspoken conversation. "Once we find what we're looking for, we may not want anyone getting too curious about what's in our cargo, especially if we can't explain it ourselves."

"If there's anything to find."

"True, but we have to plan for it. Avoiding any local inspectors, if necessary, will be on you."

Lance gave his cockiest smirk yet. "Piece of cake."

Past the cargo bay was another cross corridor. Flynn glanced down both ways with a slight frown. "Galley and cold storage are left, rec room and gym are right. Everything in the galley is functional. Gym is on the lower deck, it's pretty utilitarian, basic holo. Rec room…" Shrug. "There's couches."

That wasn't a ringing endorsement, though from the state of the ship so far Keith was surprised the gym had even basic holo. "What's the status on supplies? How much storage do we have?"

"Enough." Another shrug. "I think Garrett's taken the food requisitions on himself…"

"Oh has he?" Unexpected, but one less thing to worry about, Keith decided. "He does seem to enjoy dealing with food."

"Garrett knows his donuts," Lance said approvingly. "But I'm bringing some quality beer."

Flynn snorted. "Don't misfire on that one… again."

"At least I could tell it was terrible after I tried it, Kleid. Won't make that mistake again, you'll see."

"Hey! What did we discuss about first name basis?"

Okay… Keith looked between the two of them and decided he really didn't want to know what all that was about. "Shall we continue?"

The last door had several bright red warning symbols stenciled on, which could only mean they'd finally reached the engine bay. It was a cluttered mess of girders and consoles, with four hatchways—presumably the engine shafts—set into the back wall. How anyone could function in such a mess was a mystery… but Flynn immediately seemed more animated.

"Engines are Aerojet Flash class 8, and much like the rest of this ship, they're suitable for everything and not actually good at anything. Except for annoying me."

The commander grimaced. "Engineering nightmare, then?"

"They are pretty high maintenance, and it's not even the fun kinds of maintenance." He shrugged and turned to face Lance. "Hybrid cycled-fuel chem rockets with a three stage firing pattern. They're all you get, no hyperspace thrusters."

Lance nodded his understanding. Ships intended for longer-range missions would have specialized engines for hyperspace operations, which had very different handling characteristics. Without them the Firecrown would be comparatively slow between systems, but it wouldn't affect real space maneuvers. "I'll keep everything smooth on my end." He walked up to the nearest engine shaft and rested a hand on it; he could feel the faint vibration of its idle cycle. Really he was just eager to get this girl in the air and start learning all her quirks.

"Is that everything?" Keith asked, crossing his arms.

Flynn nodded. "I've run all the diagnostics… and an engine test fire that the bay supervisor didn't appreciate. She's not fancy, but she's ready to fly."

"Alright. I'm going to requisition some new mattresses for the passenger rooms… McClain, I guess you're free to go do your beer shopping."

"And cushions," Flynn smirked. "Have fun with that."

Lance snorted. Cushions were important! How hard could it be?

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

How hard could it be…

Lance frowned. He stood in the pillow aisle, amazed at how many there were. How many different kinds of pillows did the world really need? He picked up a few, some were soft and some were hard. Some promised to remember your head position—whatever that meant. He sighed and stared. He liked soft pillows, maybe? He’d never given it much thought, he just wanted to be comfortable. That was the whole point of doing this—why the hell did he decide to do this?

"Can I help you?"

He turned to see a pretty brunette and instantly grinned his most disarming grin. "I’m in need of pillows."

"Feathered, cotton, memory foam?"

"Soft but durable?"

She pointed to a grouping on the bottom shelf. "Those might suit your needs."

Lance walked down and picked one up. He punched it a bit and nodded. "Yeah, these’ll do."

"Do you need cases?"

"Uh? Yeah… hadn’t thought about that, anything boring will do."

"Follow me," she said and walked to the next aisle. Lance followed behind her appreciatively. He chose the cheapest plain white pillow cases he could find, ordered ten of them and ten of the pillows, and had them delivered to the hangar. Then he laid on the charm a bit, found out her name was Annie and got her number and promised to call her.

He wasn't going to call her. Because his next stop was beer, and nothing was more important than that.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

The chief had called him in early; something about having to repurpose the crew quarters. Not that Hunk hadn't been planning to turn up early anyway, but now he couldn't impress the boss with his diligence. Which was completely fine. No sense setting too good a first impression. It tended to raise expectations.

It was easy enough to find the Firecrown, and he waved as he caught sight of Flynn sitting in the main hatchway. "Yo, pit boss! What's shakin'?"

"Pit boss?" he repeated, bemused. "That's a new one."

"We're the pit crew, ain't we?" Grin. "Ready to do some interior decoratin'?"

That got him a raised eyebrow. "Funny, I specifically told the others I'm not an interior decorator."

Hunk grinned. "What, you'd rather be knee deep in engine grease than pickin' out carpet?"

"Obviously?" Snort. "There had better not be carpet involved in this."

If they'd had a little more time before takeoff, carpet would absolutely have been involved in this. Fuzzy pink carpet. He knew people. As it was, Hunk just chuckled and followed him through the hatch. "Damn shame. So what've we got?"

Flynn led him to the crew quarters, and he gave a low whistle at the mess. No wonder they were remodeling. "Kogane wants a conference room." A small smirk crossed his lips. "How far can you throw one of these bunks?"

Was he serious? Did it matter? A question was a question. "I could totally nail that Savanna nextdoor with a mattress," he offered cheerfully.

The chief considered that for a few seconds. "You're expecting me to tell you off for that."

"Kinda."

"I probably should." He crossed his arms and looked around the room. "But we are an Explorer Team and I don't have to. Let's see it."

…Oh, it was on.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

McClain wasn't the only one who wanted to make sure they had a decent alcohol selection…

Keith walked down the aisle of the liquor store, small cart in front of him, trying to decide what buy. He stopped by the whisky but found he wasn’t sure what to get. He scanned the shelves thinking and a cinnamon one caught his eye. Putting it in the cart, he turned to find the rum.

Lance stared at the beer and decided he liked too many beers. He wasn’t at all sure how to choose between them. He looked at one, then another. "Want a selection, can’t bring all of it? Nah, screw it." He grabbed a large pack of four different beers. They’d be well stocked. He threw them in his cart and started wandering the aisles. Maybe something else would jump out at him. Turning the corner of an aisle, he spotted a familiar face placing a bottle of rum into his cart.

"Hey, Boss, those are some odd mattresses."

Keith blinked at the sudden arrival and looked at his cart. "Um...the mattresses should be delivered to the hangar within the hour." He looked at the beer in Lance's cart. "Funny looking cushions."

"I did say I was getting beer too…" He took a good look at Keith’s cart and was impressed, maybe he’d be more fun than Lance’s first impression. "You sharing that whisky?"

"Do I need to?" Keith raised his eyebrow with a slight grin.

"Hey, I always share my beer."

"No offense, but… I’m not a big fan of wheat juice with only about 5% alcohol."

Lance laughed hard at that. "You just haven’t been properly educated… I guess I’ll have to run a beer school. Or, just more for me."

"Only if you’re planning on cleaning up afterwards. I really don’t like any beer. And I’ve tried a few… so more for you then."

Lance scrunched his nose in distaste about cleaning up, though he wasn’t planning on making messes. He watched Keith pick up two more bottles off a shelf: Amaretto and brandy.

"I think that should do it."

Lance glanced at their two carts and grinned. "We’re gonna have the best stocked bar in space. Knew I was gonna love being on an Explorer Team."

Keith grinned. "No, if we were going to have a bar I’d buy the store, but we don’t have that kind of room. But this should at least hold me over until we back here. Sipping drinks."

"Best way to spend downtime, which I think we’ll have a lot of."

"Seems like we will…" Keith looked Lance up and down, remembering his file. "So, I understand you’ve been trying to beat my times."

"Trying? No, I’ve beaten more than one, damn sure I can beat them all."

Keith wasn’t sure how to take Lance’s confidence, and took a harder look at him. "Which ones? I know I didn’t lose any time for crash landings."

Lance laughed, it was all he could do, and he looked Keith, thinking again his first impression may have been a bit off. But he found he didn’t want to give him any information—plus it wasn’t like Keith didn’t have it on hand, being the commander. "You can read, right, Boss? It’s all in my file. What they call reckless flying tends to be fast."

"You’re an… interesting individual." Keith arched his brow at him, assessing.

"I’m fucking fascinating, Boss." Lance raised his eyebrow right back at him and found himself going back to his previous impression. Keith Kogane was a strange man.

Keith turned suddenly and started heading to the front of the store. Lance followed, deciding that meant they were checking out. At the checkout Keith reached into Lance’s cart and put it all with his own order. Which was fine with Lance, he liked keeping his money. Keith looked at him and shrugged.

"Figure I should at least buy the beer for the man who beat a couple of my times."

"Gonna owe me more any day now," Lance grinned.

"I only buy once." Keith smirked, holding up one finger. "After that, it would be too much like a date and… well, I don’t date my co-workers." He turned away quickly. Why did I just say that? I’m his damn commanding officer. Maybe he’ll drop it.

Lance looked Keith up and down with a cocky grin. "Too bad, I’m a great date."

Keith swore his face was on fire. Not dropping it, so I’d better… "We’d better head back to the ship," he said to change to the subject.

"Good plan. Pillows should’ve been delivered, they’ll be with your mattresses. Got my beer. Life’s good."

Keith nodded. "And we have a takeoff slot to make."

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Jace had never served aboard a ship before, other than for transit. With his old unit, they'd envied—and, of course, roundly mocked—the medics up in orbit in their shiny transport ships with their shiny full hospital facilities. The grunts on the ground made do with half-assed field hospitals. He'd prided himself on his ability to rough it, but he'd also kind of been looking forward to not having to do that on this run. Sure the Firecrown wasn't a large ship, but it should at least have a decent clean room.

The one silver lining of an Explorer Team, right?

Wrong!

"What do you mean there's not a sick bay? How the fuck can there not be a sick bay?"

He probably wasn't yelling at the right person; Garrett had been overseeing some cargo being loaded when he'd turned up to check things out. Now the huge engineer just shrugged helplessly. "I didn't design the thing, bro!"

"Well that's a relief."

"Everyone's got their own room—HEY, dude, watch that box, keep it upright!—so maybe it won't matter much, yeah?"

Scowl. "Yeah, sure. That'll work just fantastic when I need a sterile environment to dig a bullet out of your guts."

"Uh." For the first time Garrett looked entirely away from the cargo team. "How's 'bout we just hope that doesn't happen? Ain't a combat mission, remember?"

Jace gave an impatient sigh. "Hope doesn't save lives, dumbass. Where's the chief?"

"Doin' diplomacy with a ship nextdoor that might've gotten one of our mattresses stuck in its landing gear." Pause. "He didn't design the thing either."

"I know that." Blink. "Wait, a mat… no, never mind. Don't want to know."

"Kinda gettin' the feeling you're right."

It was hard to tell if that had been an insult. Jace covered his bases by scowling anyway. "Okay, fine. Where's the galley? There's at least a galley, right?"

That got him a very odd look. "Course there is? Cold storage ain't sterile though, and it's gonna be kinda full. If it's that desperate we can rig up somethin' in the cargo bay—"

"—I didn't mean that!" He might kill this guy before the maple bacon donuts could do it. "I'm going to have plenty of free time until you people start getting yourselves hurt, figured I'd do the cooking."

Garrett brightened. "You like cooking?"

I'm going to regret answering this, aren't I? "Yes…"

"Awesome! We can compare notes." A huge grin spread over his face. "Galley is right past the cargo bay, can't miss it. Once I'm done out here I can come show ya around, I brought some kickin' extras. Murder pepper sauce!"

Porra… "Whatever you say, dude." It seemed like a really good time to get the hell out of here. Grabbing his own gear, he headed for the main hatch, shaking his head in annoyance. At least things were going exactly as well as he'd expected.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Sven pinched the bridge of his nose. Command had obviously just had a computer chart their course. No sane navigator would willingly chose this route, it took them straight through Drozanian territory.

Drozan was an alien planet deep in the Rim. They kept to themselves, and were considered ‘peaceful’, they were just a tad… paranoid. Between the large blockade around their planet, and randomly positioned hyperspace mines and interdiction fields, it wasn’t very bright to travel through. Especially when you weren't broadcasting yourself as Galaxy Alliance. And if an actual navigator had charted this, instead of a computer, he wouldn’t have to recalculate.

It was taking him longer than he’d like, and he might have been able to do it faster but he could feel them watching him. Lieutenant McClain and Commander Kogane were waiting on him to make adjustments so they could launch.

McClain had made his impatience known. Several times.

It wasn't as if recreating a hyperspace route was easy. It wasn’t just drawing a line from one point on the map to another. Multiple factors had to be assessed. Hill spheres and possible mass shadows had to be taken into account. The when and where of the multiple waypoints also had to be calculated. The sheer amount of math was staggering. He was not a magician; these things took a little time.

Double checking his math and new route options in the computer, Sven finally finished with a happy sigh of relief.

"Are you almost finished, Viking?" Lance asked impatiently. Sven was slightly confused at the nickname but chose to ignore it.

"Yes." He turned to Keith. "There are two new route options, one will add a few days, possibly a week to the trip, but is overall a safe trip." As safe as a trip to the Rim could be, anyways. "The other is faster and will actually shave a week off but requires real space navigation through an asteroid field."

"Asteroid field, you say?" Lance grinned, and Keith shot him a mildly disapproving look before turning to the comms. He really didn't want to add a week to their trip, but…

"Kleid? What is our shield status?"

Flynn was entirely preoccupied double checking—well, it was more like quintuple checking at this point—weight calculations and decision speed. The half-registered question was an unwelcome distraction. "We're still on the ground, Kogane, they're fine."

"Pit boss," Hunk spoke up from the auxiliary console, "think he mighta been goin' for something more like 'are they any good at what they do'…"

That won him a startled look. "Oh. Right."

"Can they handle multiple asteroid impacts?" Keith asked, apparently oblivious to his second's obliviousness.

Now Flynn glowered at the comms just on principle. "Just what do you think an asteroid is? No."

Keith sighed at the response, though Lance was looking more than slightly offended. "I'd like the challenge of an asteroid field."

I'm sure you would. "Mr. Holgersson, add a week to the trip. We can't risk getting stranded."

Sven nodded. "Yes sir."

"No fun, Kogane," Lance grumbled.

"There's a time and a place for fun. We have to complete our mission."

"Good thing I brought beer, we're gonna be bored."

Keith opted not to dignify that with a response, turning his attention to Sven entering his data into the nav computer. Finally he looked up and nodded. "We're all set on my end, sir."

"Excellent." He flipped the comms over to the control frequency as the other two settled into their seats. "This is the Firecrown, Control. Request permission for takeoff and outbound clearance of the system."

The response came quickly. "Clearance granted, Firecrown. You're in line after the Flaregrazer. Have a safe flight."

"Thank you, Control." Switching back to internal comms he noted the grin on Lance's face and wondered if it should worry him. "Kleid, bring the engines online."

A dull roar erupted somewhere behind them, and the ship shuddered. "Engines firing!"

"Mr. McClain, take us out nice and easy."

Lance's grin widened as the controls came to life, humming in time with the engines. "Nice and easy? Sure, boss." He winked and started the ship out of the hangar—not without a little gratuitous burst of acceleration, of course. He was pretty sure he could see the hangar supervisor glaring as they rocketed onto the taxiway.

The Flaregrazer was either a Derecho or a Skyhook class—it was near impossible to tell them apart from the outside—painted up in Andromeda Vanguard colors. Keith studied it with interest as it finished taxiing and began its takeoff run. He enjoyed watching ships launch, wondering where they were off to, what missions they had in store.

What does our mission have in store?

"Come on, Flaregrazer," Lance muttered, "you call that speed?" He was tapping the controls impatiently, and Keith couldn't fully suppress a grin.

"Hey, at least it ain't leavin' any wake turbulence like that," Hunk pointed out cheerfully. "Oughta be smooth as a smoothie!"

Nobody seemed inclined to respond to that, which was probably for the best. Finally, the Flaregrazer was clear, and Lance punched it.

"Nice and easy," Flynn muttered under his breath, amused. He grabbed his console to steady himself, eyes locked on the speed gauges, listening to the engines roar.

"Time to fly!"

A second burst of acceleration brought the gauges into the green, and he couldn't hold back a grin of his own. He hadn't done an aerodyne launch since the Academy. "V1!"

"WOOOOHOOOOOOO!" Lance's yell rang over the comms as they lifted off, along with… a dramatic guitar riff? Flynn looked back at Hunk, who held up his datapad and gave a thumbs-up before returning his attention to his console.

Shaking his head, he turned his own focus back to the speed gauges. "Positive rate." Their climb angle was steep, steeper than any atmosphere-bound aircraft would ever dare. "Brace yourselves, second stage incoming."

"Okay, get ready, gonna start going fast," Lance translated to the others on the bridge—maybe unnecessarily, but he was caught up in the feel of everything, the speed of flight. Pushing the throttles up he eased the engines into their second stage, the new burst of acceleration rocking the ship. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Sven grabbing his monitor and looking more than a bit disconcerted.

Their chief engineer was not disconcerted; he was laughing as he called over the comms. "That all you got, flyboy?"

"Oh, you want more, grease monkey?" Like hell he'd pass that up. With a wicked smirk he punched the throttles to full.

"Dude!" Hunk blasted another guitar riff over the comms as the acceleration nearly knocked him off his feet. On the other side of the bay, Flynn was grinning like mad, listening to the engines screaming up to full power.

"That's better!"

Keith was clinging to his seat, swallowing hard as he felt the ship shudder from its own speed. Please don't fall apart in the atmosphere…

Next to him Sven seemed to share the sentiment; he was whispering what sounded like a prayer in Norwegian. There was some irony in that—Keith knew from his file their navigator, of all people, had never actually been off Earth—but he was in no real condition to attempt to be reassuring right now himself.

"Thirty seconds 'til we're out of atmosphere," Hunk called out. That was followed by an explosion of sound. Keith and Sven exchanged nervous glances, but before real panic could set in it became evident that the noise wasn't their hull disintegrating around them. It was a heavy metal version of Ride of the Valkyries blasting over the comms, because why wouldn't it be?

Lance burst into hysterical laughter.

With one last shuddering lurch, the Firecrown escaped atmosphere. Immediately the g-forces eased, and the other two on the bridge started breathing normally again. Lance spun in his seat and winked at Keith. "We've launched, boss. Nice and easy."

The commander just stared at him for a very long moment. "…We've launched, yes. Get us on our exit vector for the system and let's get this mission started."

"On it." Still smirking, he started maneuvering for the exit vector, taking careful note of the ship's handling quirks. Behind him he heard Keith whisper under his breath.

"Explorer Teams…"

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Despite the unfamiliar surroundings of the Castle of Lions, Larmina was doing something very familiar: sitting in her bedroom and sulking. It was a well-honed skill at this point. So when she heard footsteps approaching she turned to glower at the door almost automatically.

This time the footsteps were actually here for her; Princess Allura poked her head in the door. "Hello."

"Oh… hi." Larmina stopped glaring; friendly faces were few and far between here, no sense glaring at one of the few.

Allura glanced around, then stepped into the room. "How's the settling in?"

"It's not great." She scowled and shook her head. "I got yelled at for unpacking my own bags. It's 'not ladylike' or something."

There was no way Allura could resist chuckling at that, though she covered her mouth to try to hide it. "Have you had a tour of the castle yet?"

"No." Larmina brightened. "You mean I'm actually going to be allowed out of my room?"

Now she giggled openly. "Yes… if you're going to be a guest here, I must give you a tour of my wonderful home. Also…" She moved closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. "I must confess, Nanny wants to test me on something I'm very well versed in."

Guest. Larmina kept being called a guest, but so far she felt more like a prisoner. She stood, tilting her head, and whispered back, "Nanny? A nanny gives you tests?"

"She loves to make sure that I'm the most proper princess ever. So… I feel it would be ever so rude if I don't make sure you know where everything is."

Oh boy. "She sounds… lovely. But a tour really does sound fun." She gestured widely. "This place is so… I don't know…" Big Fat Arusian Castle. She was pretty sure she couldn't say that out loud.

"Formal?" Allura offered with a crooked grin. "To the extremes? Yes. That's thanks to Nanny."

"Now she sounds really lovely." A sinking feeling was gathering in the pit of her stomach. "She's not the one I'm here to uh, 'learn from', is she?"

Allura didn't exactly answer that. She just gave her best we are doomed look and changed the subject. "So how about we start from the bottom up? I know a great shortcut that could be useful."

Larmina looked at her expression, and a slow grin spread over her face. Maybe someone around here really wasn't so bad. "…Lead on, Auntie!"

"Staff elevators and stairs are the fastest," the princess explained, striding down the hall. Larmina rushed along as quickly as she could in the swishy skirt she was currently stuck in. "Avoid the northern one, Nanny likes to use that one the most."

It was definitely sounding like Nanny-dodging would be the most important skill she learned here. "That doesn't sound very ladylike either." Grin. "I like it."

The elevator moved quickly, bringing them to a huge set of doors—even bigger than the main manor doors back home, but they weren't so ornate. There were all kinds of strange noises and crashes coming from behind it. It didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the castle… she followed Allura off the elevator and looked at the doors with wide eyes.

"This is the belly of the castle… what truly makes it work." Allura nodded to the doors. "Beyond those doors is the royal workshop. Master craftsmen, mechanics, whatever others you might need… no matter what it is, they can fix it." She pushed the doors open and led her in.

The workshop was massive; Larmina had never seen anything like it. She couldn't even identify much of what was being worked on. It was all mysterious and all fascinating. "I like it here already," she whispered, trying to look everywhere at once.

Allura smiled, pointing to a thin man in a blue apron standing by the far wall. "Over there is Danor, he oversees everything here. If you need help, he's the one to see." She lowered her voice. "He loves red wine, so if you can find some for him, he can put a rush on any project you might give him."

Oh really? "If I find a lot, will he let me just hang out here and watch? If I don't get caught."

The princess chuckled. "If things are quiet, he might even teach you something."

Now that sounded promising. Larmina grinned, already making smuggling plans in the back of her mind. Maybe she was stuck in a Big Fat Arusian Castle, but her mother had promised to stay in touch…

Leaving the workshop they came to another set of doors; this time Allura poked her head in first to make sure the coast was clear. "We have to be careful here, this is what Nanny prides herself on the most. She may be a tough governess, but she can run a kitchen like no one else."

Aha. Larmina nodded, whispering under her breath. "Here we have the habitat of the wild Nanny, a native life form known for her ability to terrorize Princesses and Ladies…" Okay, so cheesy nature holos were a guilty pleasure.

Allura choked on a laugh. "Looks like we can sneak in." They slipped in the door. "This is the main kitchen, where all the regular meals are made, and… oooh, I see what I want after dinner."

No stranger herself to large royal kitchens, Larmina again found herself feeling totally out of her depth. She followed her cousin's gaze from elaborate cakes to huge roasts to… "What is that?"

"I… I'm not sure." Allura studied the wiggly green dish and wrinkled her nose. "But I'm sure I'll have to eat it anyway, and fake liking it." Sigh. "Dessert is worth it… dessert is worth it."

At least some things weren't so different here. "Dessert is always worth it," Larmina agreed through the giggles, and they moved on.

Wherever they were going next took them through the staff quarters. Auntie waved to several of the maids and guards, explaining that she was giving a tour. Nodding beside her, Larmina just hoped not to run into the guard who'd told her off for unpacking her own bags… but they made it through to a service staircase with no incident.

"We'll come out by the Receiving Hall," Allura explained. "Which reminds me, add whatever cushioning you can to your shoes if you're going to be in the receiving line… your heels will hurt by the end of it."

"Receiving lines?" Larmina repeated, grimacing bitterly. "I thought I was just here to learn to be a pretty little trophy wife. Though I guess that's part of it, huh?"

Allura turned and looked at her sadly. "This is the royal life. It can have its perks… and then there are parts even I don't fully understand. But my father and I hope to change that."

Oh really? Probably won't help me any, though. "I hope you do." Sigh. "Sorry, I shouldn't complain about advice. Cushion the shoes, got it."

They came to an ornate set of doors, and Allura pushed them open. "Here. One day, not just heads of state will come through here…"

The Receiving Hall was something. The gilded doors hadn't been an exception, apparently they'd been the rule. Intricate molding and gold leaf were everywhere, and the marble floor was polished so brilliantly it nearly glowed. "It's very… shiny," she whispered, wide-eyed.

"Oh, you think this is shiny?" Allura grinned and took her hand, rushing her to the next room. The Royal Ballroom, currently fully set up for a ball. It was everything the Receiving Hall was and more. "This is shiny." Looking at Larmina's stunned expression, she smiled and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You think the crystal and mirrors are a bit much?"

"I think… yeah… just a little…" A dozen huge chandeliers cast such brilliant light through the room she couldn't even make out all the ornamentation. "You actually have real balls in here? Without everyone going blind?"

"Hard to believe, isn't it? But I shouldn't complain. I love balls… the music, the dancing… much better than standing in one place for hours." She took a few steps out onto the floor, twirling and letting her dress billow out around her. "This is for a small event coming up, a meeting with some neighboring kingdoms."

Oh, as if she hadn't been feeling far enough out of her depth before… Larmina cursed under her breath. "This is for a small event?!"

"Yes… for big events, we use this level and the one above us. And just beyond this is where Nanny may lean on you the most…" Leaving the ballroom, they entered another room that was nearly as large. But instead of crystal and mirrors, there was a long table of polished goldenwood set with delicate silver filigree. "The formal dining room."

"Whoa…" Larmina tried to picture what it must be like in here when all the chairs were occupied, then remembered what her aunt had said about the kitchen. "…gonna guess this Nanny doesn't like it if you eat her food improperly."

"Manners, manners, manners…" Allura pitched her voice lower, a sharply judgmental look coming over her face. "A Proper Princess sits straight up! No sagging of those shoulders!" Larmina giggled. "A Proper Princess doesn't push food about her plate! A Proper Princess—"

"—doesn't sneak grapes out for the local wildlife?"

Now Allura giggled, then sighed and turned away from the table. "I'm sure she means well. After all, my behavior is representative of my status. But she's like this even when I'm just with family alone." She headed back for the main hallway, shaking that off. "Still more to see!"

That sounds awful, Larmina mused as she rushed to catch up. At least her mother let her be herself sometimes, even if she had dumped her off at this ridiculous castle… "How big is this place?"

"Hmmmmm…" Her aunt paused, studying a few paintings of what looked like some ancient knights. "Pretty good size. I haven't been to every castle on Arus, of course, and I know some provinces pride themselves on having castles grander than the High King's. But still, we're quite large. We may skip a few areas today…" She started walking again, turning a corner. "After all, we do have this number to climb."

The Grand Staircase of the Castle of Lions lived up to its name without question. The stairs themselves were polished granite from the distant Moongrave Cliffs, brown with flecks of brilliant gold and red crystal. They were wide enough for a dozen knights in full armor to walk side by side, framed by banisters of intricately carved goldenwood. And they rose up some thirty feet from the floor, all but daring anyone to actually scale them with any sort of dignity.

"We're going up those?" Larmina asked from behind her. "Now?"

"Nope." Allura laughed at the wonder in the girl's voice. "I'll show you to the elevator, leave this monster for major events. Thankfully, it's the only one this—"

"—Oh there's no need for that, Auntie." There was a sly smirk on Larmina's face as she stepped up next to her, hiking her skirt. "I'll race you!"

Without even waiting for a response she was off, sprinting up the stairs two at a time.

Oh was that how she wanted to play it? "I accept that challenge!" Laughing, Allura ran after her. Larmina was fast, but she wasn't used to anything quite like these stairs; about a third of the way from the top the princess bypassed her. Even as she did so she could sense the other girl redoubling her efforts, nearly keeping pace, and when she reached the top she couldn't help but still be chuckling. "At last! A worthy challenger for stair racing."

Larmina stumbled up the last step and paused a moment, catching her breath. "That is… a pretty big staircase…" A huge smile split her face, the first one Allura had seen this whole time. "It's awesome!"

"Indeed." She turned, smiling herself. "And the view is impressive." From the top, the whole of the grand entrance hall was visible in all its royal splendor… and beyond it, two high windows that looked out over the glittering moat and the lush fields beyond.

"…It really is," Larmina agreed in a hushed voice. She was reaching about the limit of her ability to take new things in all at once, but she was certain she wasn't at all done with things she needed to take in. She wasn't wrong.

Allura led her past what seemed like countless security, staff, and conference rooms, to the throne room—it was subdued and regal, a stark contrast to pretty much everything else in the castle—and then to the secondary kitchen—good for small orders and raiding, run by somebody named Ducky, of all things—and finally to a large, ornately framed picture of a lion that swung open to reveal another staircase behind it.

"…Did we just walk through a painting?"

"Yep… in time, I can show you where every secret doorway is here."

Now there was something to really look forward to. "I'd like that."

They reached the top of the stairway, and the princess pushed another door open with a smile. "This is the best place in the castle. Welcome to where I truly call home."

Larmina blinked, coming up beside her to see what looked like children's toys strewn through the hallway—blocks, a ball, a couple of plastic starships. It looked so out of place… "Where are we?"

"We're on the royal floor, our private part of the castle." Allura smiled. "My brother is making a mess again… oh l'il lion!" she called out in the direction of one of the doors, chuckling. "There are things in the hallway!"

A growl that reminded Larmina of one of the manor hounds came from the doorway. "Um."

"He loves the tales of the lions. Likes to imagine he's the Black Lion."

Black Lion? She wanted to ask about that, but she was fully at her limit of what she could absorb. Later. Besides, before she could have gotten the question out a small boy appeared from the doorway, lugging a stuffed lion in one hand and trying to clean up the toys with the other. Larmina giggled; he was cute.

He noticed her then, and stiffened. She smiled. "Hey there…"

"Lady Larmina, I would like to introduce my brother, Prince Tanner."

Oh. Her eyes widened, and she made a valiant attempt at a curtsy. "It's nice to meet you."

"Hi," the boy said with a shy smile. "It's nice to meet you too… um, sis?" As he looked to his sister, Larmina couldn't help another small giggle at his attention span, or lack thereof. "Can you do something for me?"

"Oh?" Allura grinned. "What is it?"

"Don't tell Nanny about the apple cores in Daddy's room. Me and Cheddar were having snacks there." And with that he ran off, stuffed lion in tow.

"…Oh, you…" Allura pressed a palm to her forehead, but she was still grinning. "Well, he is a kid."

"He's cute." Larmina tilted her head. "Who's Cheddar?"

At that the princess blushed slightly. "Cheddar is a space mouse. They live here, so… a fair warning, if you hear a squeak, that's where it's coming from."

Space mice didn't seem like anything to blush about. "You have mice? Back at home we have bats. And mice are just wingless bats, so I think we'll get along fine." She closed her eyes, exhaling. Much as she'd wanted to get out of her room earlier, right now a little time to recharge sounded amazing. "Do you think… I could go back to my room? This is a lot to take in."

Allura looked at her with a sympathetic smile, and nodded. "Can you get back?"

"I think so. Thank you, Auntie." Hesitantly she reached out and gave Allura's hand a quick squeeze.

A second later she found herself ambushed by a hug. "I'm glad you're here, Larmina."

Startled, she looked up and tried to figure out how to respond to that. She certainly wasn't happy to be here. But if she had to be here, at least… "I'm glad you're here too," she said quietly.

Grin. "Then I'll see you later."

She nodded, grinning back. "Later, Auntie!" She turned, heading down the stairs… and broke into a run the moment she was out of sight. Just on principle.

Maybe I'll manage…

Allura watched Larmina go, a small smile lingering on her lips. It was good to have someone near her age in the castle, even if the adjustment was clearly going to be a process. Hopefully she'd be able to get comfortable here in time. Turning a little, she noticed two beady bright eyes peering out from underneath one of the hall tables. "Cheddar…"

The mouse gave a squeak that was more than a little bit guilty.

"You'd better not have ground the apple cores into the carpet!"

Another squeak, and the mouse darted away, with Allura in hot pursuit. Nanny would've been mortified… and here, that was okay.