(Genesis) Chapter 4

Pride: Genesis

Chapter 4

Touch and Go

Though technically the bridge only had one person on duty at a time, it wasn't uncommon to see two or even all three of the bridge crew on deck. There wasn't a whole lot else to do on the Firecrown. May as well pull extra duty and get used to the ship's quirks early.

So it was Lance's shift when Sven, running some routing simulations, was distracted by a soft series of beeps from his monitor. That's… he frowned in confusion, taking a moment to figure out if the alert was for real space or the simulation. Then his eyes widened and he hit the comms. "Commander!"

"Yes, Holgersson?"

"The navigational scanners are picking up some hyperspace ripples near our current route. They indicate a spatial rift is about to open up, roughly ninety-seven percent probability."

Lance straightened and looked over at him, looking interested for the first time this whole shift. A moment later the door to the bridge slid open; clearly Keith hadn't been far away. He moved up to stand behind Sven, studying the monitors.

"How much time do we have before it opens?"

"Not long." Sven's fingers flew over the console, checking data as he worked out the calculations. "And it won't last long. But we have enough time to get there if we go now."

Spatial rifts were one of the many oddities of hyperspace—a dimension Alliance scientists still only half understood. Planar anomalies that could exist anywhere from a few seconds to a few hours, a rift could slingshot a ship vast distances in a matter of minutes, far faster than even the best hyperspace thrusters would allow. They had certain drawbacks, significant ones. Quite a lot of spacers would never touch them. But if you were willing to make the trade…

Sven had never mapped one in the field before, let alone jumped one. But he knew the theory inside out, and he was good at his job.

"Will it get us near where we need to go?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Sven bit the inside of his cheek to cut off what else he'd been tempted to say. I'm a mathematician, not a magician. One of the complications of jumping a rift was finding a safe point to aim for, and Terina was in a crowded region of space. But finally… "Yes. It'll cut our trip time down to about a week."

Keith nodded, eyes sharpening. That was a hard thing to pass up. "McClain, start us toward it." He turned to the comms. "Kleid, we've got a possible spatial rift opening up. Can you get the ship ready in time?"

There was a momentary silence. "It'll take about half an hour to get everything set. Do we have that long?"

Keith looked to Sven, who did some more quick math and nodded. "You've got time."

"Okay. Send the sensor data back here and I'll get started."

"So we're really doing this?" Lance asked, his voice and eyes both filled with excitement. He was already pushing them forward, picking up speed.

"All hands, prepare for spatial rift jump," Keith ordered over open comms. Just to make it official. Then he brought up the sensor console and focused in on the rift—or at least, the coordinates Sven had pinpointed as the potential rift site—and routed the data. "Yes, McClain, we're really doing this."

"Sweet."

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Jace had been in the gym when the order came through. He scowled at the comms on principle, though he didn't really mind it. The sooner they got where they were going, the sooner they could leave. "I'm gonna have to hook you all up to biometrics," he announced as he ran for his quarters to get his kit. "If the rift fucks anyone up I'm gonna need to know about it yesterday."

He was pretty sure a couple of people groaned in response. Didn't matter, they'd groan a lot louder if they keeled over from rift sickness. It turned out human bodies weren't really designed to be thrown multiple light years per second and forcibly ejected from hyperspace. Some people experienced adverse effects.

What came over the comms next made him groan.

"Doctor, I hate to do this to you, but can you wake Hunk up first?" Flynn didn't actually sound all that apologetic. "I can't really leave the bay right now."

Porra.

Jace sighed. Asking him did make the most sense, whether he liked it or not. "Yeah… I'm on it. Biometrics after I get giant donut dude up." He pulled his kit from a locker and headed to the opposite side of the passenger wing. He pushed open the door to Garrett's room and blinked. Had he not known they were aboard an Endeavor hurtling headlong for a hyperspace anomaly, he'd have thought he'd somehow wandered into a college dorm.

Dude has crush car posters on the walls. On the ship. On the mission. Sure, why wouldn't he?

Garrett was snoring away, flopped over the too-small bed in a way that was definitely going to call for a chiropractor later. Jace carefully picked his way through the scattered clothes, comic books, tech readouts, and unidentifiable chunks of metal on the floor. This guy was the bomb tech—he didn't trust anything he might try to move not to blow up.

"Yo! Garrett! Wake up, we're about to fling our asses out of hyperspace!"

Giant donut dude didn't even twitch.

Shaking him seemed like an incredibly bad idea… Jace thought for a moment, then raised his voice and dialed up his most dramatic tone. "Oh no! I spilled the murder pepper sauce all over everything!"

Garrett sat bolt upright in bed, eyes wide and shocked. "Hey! Be careful with that stuff! We've only got so much and it'll burn holes in your…" His panicked yell trailed off as he looked around the room and blinked. "Oh… hey Doc, what's shakin'?"

All Jace could do for a moment was stare at him. That actually fucking worked? "…Chief wants you in the bay. We're hitting a spatial rift."

"A rift?" A huge grin split his face. "Dude, that's way better than spilled murder pepper sauce!" He vaulted off the bed, grabbed the nearest shirt, yanked it over his head, and was gone without another word.

Jace watched him go, rubbing his forehead for a moment. "For fuck's sake…"

Well, mission accomplished. He headed for the bridge.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Flyboys really didn't waste any time trying to break my ship, did they?

Flynn had his eyes glued to the sensor data, waiting for the inevitable. He'd changed the engine cycles to sync with the current planar fluctuations… and as soon as the rift actually formed, nearly every bit of data would change and undo all his fine work.

Even perfectly synced, the rift would blow all their engines out. Surging was an inevitable byproduct of the process. At least these particular engines would only need to be cleared and restarted; fusion coil drives surging tended to melt the coils outright. Not that he'd ever dealt with that in his career, not at all.

The bay door hissed open. "Yo pit boss! I'm awake, I'm awake!"

He didn't look up from his console—first because he needed to focus completely, second because he could hear Hunk skidding into the bay just fine. "You're on shield calibration."

"On it!" Hunk ran to his console, pulling up the sensor data and starting his work. Like the engines, the shields had to resonate exactly with the flow of the rift. If they didn't, they would all be in for a thoroughly entertaining afternoon.

Suddenly a shudder ran through the Firecrown. Not a particularly violent one, but long and steady, as if they'd been caught in a mild earthquake in space. Flynn glanced up at his feed from the ship's forward monitors and smiled faintly. A distant pinpoint of light was visible, rippling and shifting, taking on every known color and a few that quite possibly didn't exist.

The rift was open.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

The sheer amount of math required to successfully jump a rift was staggering. Sven had four different monitors running scans, pulling the data he needed. He was doing the calculations as quickly as he could, but was once again uncomfortably aware of the fact that everyone else on the bridge was waiting on him.

For whatever reason, calculating the precise safe point was being incredibly stubborn. And without a safe point to aim for, he couldn't even begin to calculate the entry angle and velocity that would get them where they wanted to go. If all the math in front of him would just cooperate, they could get moving, but no…

Keith had stopped staring over his shoulder and started pacing. He wasn't sure which was worse. Lance was at least mostly focused on piloting, keeping the ship steady as the rift coalesced before them.

After picking up a couple of extra supplies he'd decided he might need, Jace made his way onto the bridge. He'd only done a rift jump once before, but he knew what was coming. "McClain, let's get you hooked up before we hit the—" A sharp quake rocked the ship and he gave a startled yelp, dropping gracelessly to the floor. "…turbulence."

Lance snickered quietly as Keith helped the medic up. "It's just a little bit. Let's get that hookup over with." He hated biometric monitoring, and from the boss's expression he didn't like it much better.

"Oh don't give me that look, either of you. These are the fancy wireless ones, you won't even know they're there."

Well that was bullshit. The bands on his arm weren't so bad, but the neck patch was barely stuck to him before Lance started fidgeting uncomfortably. It was all he could do not to rip the damn thing off… fortunately he had rift turbulence to keep him busy. Though maybe not for long. "We're almost there." He glanced over at Sven, who didn't look at all happy, and decided not to say anything else despite his impatience.

Back in the bay, Flynn had no such awareness; the comms crackled as the engines changed to a lower pitch. "I'll need the entry velocity as soon as you've got it. Putting the engines in surge protection mode changes the acceleration a bit."

Sven's tone somehow managed to be polite and drip with frustration at the same time. "You will have it the second I finish calculating it."

"Take your time, Holgersson." Keith stopped pacing, though it only lasted a moment. "Get it right."

"Yes sir. I should have it finished a few minutes before we get there." Hopefully.

Lance didn't quite have the heart to tell him they were less than a minute away from the rift well. They couldn't go any further than that without risking being thrown through at who the hell knew what angle. He slowed the ship, gripping the controls tight, fighting the turbulence that was now battering them pretty thoroughly.

As he finished hooking the biometrics monitors to Keith, Jace turned to Sven. One look at his expression was all it took. "…I'll go to the bay and come back." He left the bridge quickly, leaving Lance snickering a little more.

"We're in the rift well," Hunk reported as the ship slowed further. "Shields are holding."

Sven gritted his teeth, biting his cheek again. Almost… suddenly it all seemed to fall into place, like the last piece of a puzzle. With a triumphant smile he finished up his calculations—they all fell together so easily after that first one. "Got it." He transmitted the data to Lance and the velocity back to engineering. "McClain, you have to hit this exact angle and this exact speed, or… we won't end up where we want to."

To put it mildly.

Lance grinned as the information lit up on his screen. "Piece of cake. Flynn, we good?"

Flynn didn't answer immediately. He was studying the velocity data, frowning as he did a few calculations of his own. "No. Not exactly. Sending you the acceleration parameters, you're going to have to go back around and get some distance to hit this speed."

Lance nodded, not that the engineer could see it. He wasn't about to argue with more flying. As the new information came up he started skimming the edges of the rift well, fighting the turbulence and bringing them around. You couldn't just fly straight out of a rift well. There was no gravity in hyperspace, but the forces here were remarkably similar.

As they broke free of the rift's pull and drifted to a stop, Jace returned to hook Sven up, then looked at the commander and indicated the vacant gunnery console. "Mind if I strap myself in?"

"Knock yourself out, Doc."

"The idea is to not knock myself out."

Lance groaned; he was pretty sure Kogane had chosen that phrasing intentionally, and wasn't sure he approved of the bossman's sense of humor. "What, you don't wanna fall on your ass again?"

Glare. "When you all get rift sick I'm gonna remember this."

"Are we ready to go?" Keith asked, clearing his throat to shut them up. "Engineering?"

"Shields are set," Hunk reported. "Let's rock this thing!" As soon as he finished speaking, Ride of the Valkyries started blasting over the comms again.

Flynn looked at Hunk and shook his head. The big guy was… something. "Engines are set. It's all you, flyboy."

"Finally fucking time for flying!" Lance looked back to Keith with a huge smirk. "Well?"

Keith nodded. "Take us through, Mr. McClain."

Somehow Lance's smirk actually got wider. Then he punched the throttles, bringing the engines up to their second stage and wrenching the Firecrown around at nearly a full 90 degree angle.

Flynn hadn't bothered to strap himself in; he was well used to compensating for normal acceleration. As the ship lurched violently to life, that small oversight of not expecting their pilot to be insane sent him flying halfway across the bay. Scrambling back into position he started to yell something about overtaxing the hull, but stopped as he got a look at the data. The Firecrown was just on the edge of its operational parameters, and it was holding just fine.

"Faex… he really is that good."

Keith was less impressed. Well, it wasn't that he wasn't impressed, exactly. But he was busy gripping the arms of his command chair, hoping it wouldn't break again as the acceleration shoved him hard back into the seat.

"Time to thread the needle," Lance murmured nearly to himself, and with another lurch they hurtled into the rift.

Whatever turbulence they'd dealt with in the rift well was nothing compared to the rift.

Trying to keep the Firecrown on its vector was like trying to fly through a hurricane. Which, to be fair, had always sounded like fun. Lance gripped the controls with all his strength, feeling every muscle tense as he fought to keep them on course. But he was cackling with glee, and the rougher the ride got, the louder he laughed.

Their pilot's insane laughter was not doing anything for Keith's nerves. Nor was it doing much for Sven's headache—math-induced, heavy-metal-intensified—though the headache was fading a bit in comparison to the brand new vertigo. He was watching his monitor carefully, tracking the time to exit and making sure they stayed on course, but most of his energy was devoted to not hurling all over the screen.

Hunk was watching his monitor just as carefully, clinging to the bracing bar by the aux console as the ship bounced around like a beach ball. Every few seconds he had to make slight adjustments to the shields. Even that much movement forced him to struggle against the g-forces, which weren't even supposed to exist in hyperspace. They probably weren't really g-forces. H-forces? R-forces? Drop-you-on-your-butt-ouch-forces? Hyperspace theory wasn't his thing.

"Shields still holding." That was really all he was worried about at the moment.

Across the bay, Flynn was not watching his monitors at all. Too many numbers, too little time. He had his eyes closed, listening to the howl of the engines; they would tell him everything he needed to know right now.

A low rumble echoed beneath the floor of the bay. A second later, the pitch of the engines lowered to match it. Eyes flashing open, Flynn tightened his grip on his own bracing bar and called out in unison with Sven.

"Brace for exit breach!"

Lance felt the same shift in the engines and gritted his teeth. Exit was the most difficult part of a rift jump—he doubted anyone else on the bridge wanted to hear that, so he kept it to himself and tensed. Waiting.

With one final huge lurch, the ship careened out of the rift, the stars and darkness of real space reappearing around them. Being forcibly thrown out of hyperspace at such speeds did fantastic things to your inertia, obviously; the ship immediately went into a bit of a spin. At the same time the engines gave a horrible shrieking roar, the telltale sign of a fatal surge. Lance leaned forward, shoulders hunched, yanking on the controls to use that final burst of thrust before…

The engines went silent, the lights flickered out, and the last gasp of the Firecrown's thrust reversers brought them lurching to a perfect stop.

"Fuck yeah!" Lance crowed, falling back into his seat. A soft hum took over as the ship's backup power came online, bringing up the emergency lighting and essential consoles.

"That was awesome!" Hunk yelled as the comms returned.

Sven’s eye twitched at Lance’s cursing, even as he fought to catch his breath. He thanked various gods for the straps that had saved him from flying across the bridge. "Not really the words I'd use…"

"Status report," Keith ordered. "Engineering?"

"Main engines are down," Flynn reported, though he was pretty certain everyone had noticed. "Going to have to manually inspect for damage. If nothing burned out we'll have them firing in twenty. Breach drive needs a full reset and charge cycle."

"Sounds good. Navigation?"

Jace was watching the biometrics data. It looked mostly normal, except for one… "Viking, you okay?"

Sven blinked, still trying to breathe, looking over his monitors. "We're where we—" That was all he got out before a wave of intense nausea washed over him. He looked around frantically—wasn't there a trash can somewhere on this bridge?—but that only made the vertigo worse.

Not good, not good…

"…Okay, so you're not." Jace unhooked his straps and dug a sterile bag from his kit, handing it to him.

"Well, it seems that was a successful…" Keith fell silent and exchanged grimaces with Lance as Sven stood, hurled into the bag, and dropped back into his seat. "…mostly successful rift jump. Kleid, how are you and Garrett holding up? We have one down with rift sickness."

"We're fine, I think."

Hunk had lost his fight with balance and hit the deck during their exit from the rift. Now he tried standing—work to do, after all—and immediately regretted it. Suddenly the bay was spinning circles around him.

Jace's scanner beeped, and he glanced at it with a frown. "Giant donut dude reporting rift sickness in three… two…"

"…I, uh… I ain't feelin' so hot, actually…"

Flynn didn't look away from the status monitors. "Sit down. Don't throw up in my bay."

He wasn't about to argue with sitting, but Hunk still made a face as he obeyed. "Your sympathy is touching, pit boss."

"I'm very sympathetic! Throwing up is awful and I don't want you to do it."

"Giant donut dude, you stay on your ass until I get there," Jace snapped.

"Don't worry, Doc. Ain't goin' nowhere."

"Yeah you better not." Then he turned his attention back to Sven and his expression softened somewhat. "Come on, let's get you back to your room. Not gonna need navigation for a couple hours, and you need to rest."

Sven started to protest. He needed to be here, he needed to get started recalculating their route, he needed… to not do any of that just now, he decided as a new wave of nausea bubbled up.

"That wasn't optional, Viking." Jace pulled out a new bag and offered an arm.

Keith was watching with concern. "Do as he says, Holgersson."

"Wasn't planning on disobeying." He took the bag, leaning on Jace's arm and taking a deep breath. "I just need a minute." That much talking told him he also needed to keep his mouth closed.

"Take your time. Try to keep your head steady, having to rebalance is what'll really fuck you up." Jace carefully started to guide him to the doorway.

"Feel better, Viking." Lance grinned. "You did good math."

Sven waved weakly in thanks and allowed the medic to herd him back to his quarters. As soon as they got there Jace started digging through his kit. "Lie down and don't move your head. I'll get you some meds and then I have to go check on giant donut dude."

Lying down sounded absolutely wonderful right now. Medication sounded like something that might be uncomfortable. "I'll be fine. Go check on Garre—giant donut dude."

"Yeah, no. You need meds."

"It can wait."

"You're in way worse condition than he is, now shut up and…" He trailed off. "Know what, fine. I'll be back when I'm done in the bay."

Sven exhaled and closed his eyes; somehow the room was still spinning even when he couldn't see anything. Ugh. He was completely focused on trying to breathe evenly, so much so that it didn't occur to him that he hadn't heard his door close. At least, not until a hand grabbed his arm and a sharp pinch stung his shoulder.

"Ow!" He moved his head just enough to glare, and regretted it immediately. "What was that?!"

"Well you can't very well swallow pills in your state, dumbass." Jace replaced the empty syringe in his kit. Sven kept glaring; that got him a small grin and a pat on the shoulder. "Glare all you want. I save asses, I don't kiss them, remember?"

Well now he certainly remembered. And he wasn't really in any state to argue, either. So he closed his eyes, listening for the door this time, and slowly drifted off.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Keith watched their navigator and medic leave, then turned to Lance and poked his arm. "You did good math?" he repeated incredulously.

"What? He did!"

"I know, but… you couldn't have just said he did good? You had to put math on it?"

Lance chuckled. "It's what he did good at, bossman."

Well, he supposed it was, at that. Keith shook his head and sighed. "I just hope we don't have a fried engine. That exit felt a little rough."

"Could've been worse." Lance leaned back and winced at the dull ache shooting through his shoulder blades. Keith eyed him sharply. "But the engines did feel like they were straining."

"…You're hurt, aren't you?"

"Nah, muscles are just tense." He rolled his shoulders a bit. "Always happens."

"Well if it doesn't settle down soon, I expect you to pay the Doc a visit. We already have two down, we don't need more."

"Will do, bossman." At the mention of Jace he reached up and fidgeted with the monitor patch on his neck. "Can we take this crap off?"

Now it was Keith's turn to chuckle. "As much as I'd like to say rip it off, I don't dare. Doc would have our asses before we tossed them across the bridge."

Lance scowled, but it was probably true, so he settled for standing up and stretching more. "Yeah."

"Set the autopilot to standby and go take a walk. We won't be going anywhere for awhile anyway, try to work that tension out."

A walk didn't sound half bad, actually. Lance tossed him a casual salute, which caused some new soreness to ripple through his shoulder… okay, so a walk sounded very good.

Keith watched him go and let out a breath he hadn't fully realized he'd been holding. It seemed the jump had been a success, even with two down with rift sickness… though he'd feel a lot better when the engines came back on.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

The bay was quiet, too quiet. Flynn had left Hunk sitting by his console watching the status monitors; he claimed he could see them well enough from the floor. He wasn't entirely certain he believed that, but it wasn't as if he was going to argue the point. Right now he was halfway through his inspection of the engines. So far so good…

He pushed open the third access hatch, pausing a moment as the scent of ozone, reactor fuel, and scorched metal washed over him. It wasn't a pleasant scent by any means, but it was familiar, and there was something almost comforting about it. Though it seemed much stronger here than the first two engines.

This probably wasn't going to be good.

Walking into the access shaft he found the engine's manual control panel and typed in a test fire code. Instead of the brief flashes of flame the other engines had produced, this one gave a choking sputter and remained dark.

Faex. "Kogane, the number three engine burned out a fuel line. We can function without it but we'll have to reroute some systems. Won't be back up to full efficiency until we get to Terina and can replace the line, but we can get close."

"Roger that, Kleid. Do what you have to do."

Well that was an order that had gotten him into all kinds of trouble over his career. But this shouldn't be so bad. He backed out of the third engine's hatch and started for the fourth, but Hunk called out from behind him before he got there. "You're gonna let me help with the rerouting, right?"

"Sit!"

Hunk groaned. "Pit bosssss…"

"…Oh, knock that off." Flynn rolled his eyes, then turned to smirk at him. "Like hell I'm doing all of that alone. You'll be helping me as… soon as you're… cleared…"

Truthfully, it was the first time he'd really looked at Hunk during the whole ordeal. A few other things had taken priority. But there was their demolitions expert, sitting and sulking on the bay floor, wearing a Lemon Zinger Cult t-shirt and bright yellow smiley face boxers.

He might have stared a little longer than strictly necessary, but really…

"…and as soon as you put on some pants."

Hunk blinked, then blushed bright red. "Dude, we were hoppin' a rift, who's got time for pants?"

"There is always time for pants," Flynn protested, turning back to engine four before Hunk could respond. This really wasn't a discussion he had any desire to continue, for more reasons than one.

If Hunk had had any interest in continuing, Jace's arrival cut it off. "Okay, so what've we got?" He checked his scanner and tilted his head. "Feeling okay as long as you're sitting?"

Hunk looked up and nodded. "Yeah. But then I stand up and go woooooo."

"Mild case, that's not so bad. Give me your arm." He leaned over slightly—even with giant donut dude sitting down, he really only had to lean slightly—and injected him. "Give that fifteen minutes at minimum, then try standing up again."

"Gotcha." The big man looked at the pinprick on his shoulder. "You got any smiley face bandages?"

"…No." Scowl. "Look, I need to go monitor the Viking, he's got it bad. But if you still get all spinny and shit later, don't try to tough it out or anything stupid. Sit back down and call me. Got it?"

Hunk nodded, then grinned and called over to Flynn. "Look, pit boss, he really does love me!"

A sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a snort drifted out of engine four's access shaft.

"…Go to hell," Jace grumbled, rolling his eyes and leaving the bay.

"Think we're goin' to Terina," Hunk muttered behind him, drawing another laugh from the engine shaft. A moment later, the ship trembled as the three working engines spooled up, an initial soft whine becoming a dull roar that echoed through the bay. "Oh hey! We're back!"

"That we are." Flynn returned to the main console as the ship's lighting slowly flickered back online. "Beginning breach drive reset, Kogane. We'll have to recharge before we can go back into hyperspace, but it's better if we stay put while we're rerouting the power systems anyway. It'll take a couple of shifts."

"Roger that, Kleid." Keith's relief was evident even over the comms. "I had McClain put us on standby, take the time you need to get it done. We just cut nearly a month off our trip, a day of downtime won't hurt."

"On it. I'll keep you informed." Flynn turned back to Hunk. "You heard him. We have time. Get better, get some clothes, and let's get this ship moving."

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

So today she was finally supposed to meet the dreaded Nanny. Larmina was steeling herself for a disaster. She decided to go for a run first, to calm her nerves; the castle had all this real estate, why not make use of it? She was pretty sure she'd seen a trail around the lake. And King Alfor had told her she could explore the grounds.

It turned out the lake was much bigger than she thought…

By the time she jogged back to the castle she was completely out of breath, soaked with sweat, her hair a little bedraggled from the morning winds. The run had almost managed to relax her. Until she saw a plump older woman waiting for her, glaring mightily.

"Lady Larmina! You are late!"

Oh. Larmina sighed and flipped her ponytail back. "Sorry." She wasn't sorry. "You must be Nanny."

"That is not a proper introduction!" she snapped, which was an awful long way to say yes. "And what are you wearing?"

Larmina blinked. She was wearing completely normal workout clothes, purple sweatpants and a sleeveless blue tank top. "I couldn't go out jogging in a dress…"

"You—you cannot wear that in public! Does Queen Orla really allow you to dress that way?"

"My mother doesn't 'allow' anything. I'm capable of dressing myself."

Nanny's eyes actually bulged. Her scandalized look would have been funny if this whole conversation weren't so annoying. "You are a princess!"

Immediately Larmina's expression darkened. "No. No I'm not."

"Hmph." Nanny waved that off. "You are a Daughter of Arus, and that means something regardless of your parentage. You are here to learn to uphold that great honor. Now, why don't you introduce yourself to me properly?"

In another place, other circumstances, Larmina could've been warmed by the easy dismissal of her deeply improper parentage. But right now she was just annoyed. Very annoyed. Still, the sooner she played along, the sooner she could go back home.

You're never going back home, you know. Not until you've been properly married off to some proper noble of proper parentage. And then it won't be like home anymore.

Scowling at far more than just Nanny, she performed the best curtsy one could really perform in workout pants. "Good morning, madam. I am Lady Larmina Elena Altair, Daughter of the Seven Isles. It is an honor to make your acquaintance." Her voice never wavered from a resentful monotone.

Nanny's look never wavered from its judgmental frown. "Hmph. It's a start." She bowed instead of curtsying, as was proper from someone who wasn't of noble blood, though there was no question who really held the higher rank right now. "I am Lady Nandara Hys, the castle governess. You may call me Nanny… once I'm satisfied that you are taking my lessons to heart."

"Guess I'll never be calling you Nanny, Nanny," Larmina muttered under her breath.

Her eyes did that bulging thing again. "I beg your pardon, young lady?"

Larmina cleared her throat. "I hope I'll soon be able to call you Nanny, Nanny."

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Nanny's new task was proving helpful elsewhere, at least.

Tanner was running down the hallway as fast as he could, gaping short prayers under his breath that he could reach his room before Nanny either saw him or got word of his appearance. A mix of green and brown stained parts of his shirt, a good part of the side of his vest was torn, and his once nice purple pants were mostly covered in mud. He was sure if Nanny were to catch him, she would lay into him on how his looks diminished his status of a Prince of the High Court. Yet part of him felt it was so worth ruining his clothes…

Quickly ducking into the private staircase, he dashed up them to near safety—as far as he could sense—and he was only a few steps away from his room when he ran face first into Allura. Dread filled him as he could tell by her face, he was about to get it.

"Tanner… you'd better have a good reason for looking like this!" Allura cried out as she checked to see if anything on him fell on her own clothing.

"It was good, really!" he said as he made his way to his room. "It so fun… like… nothing that Nanny would organize." Allura just raised an eyebrow as she followed, picking up a few leaves and chunks of dirt that Tanner trailed along the way. He wasn't getting out of this so easily. "Okay… you know that field by the tree she likes to have us rest after a walk?" Allura nodded. "There were some kids from the village having a ball game. Looked really fun, so I asked if I could join in…"

"I bet they said no."

Tanner chuckled as he wiggled out of his ruined clothes. "Yeah… they did. I guess they've… crossed paths with some of the Court before. Still! I don't see why I should not have a chance to learn about the games others play. Most of the games we learn about are boring. I had to take the chance… I gave them an 'I can deal with it' chat and got them to let me play."

Of course he had. Allura pursed her lips; it was hard not to smile, even knowing he shouldn't have done it. "And?"

He looked up at her with a look of bliss. "I could have played for hours! But it hit me… if I failed to make my lessons, Father would be mad. So I said farewell, may we play again and rushed back as soon as I could get here." He still had a huge grin as he put fresh clothes on.

Allura rolled her eyes a little; that fearless attitude that she knew well did get him into some trouble. "You know Nanny would hound you for days if she caught you as muddy as you were. Practicing with the heaviest books you could carry on your head for a week."

"But sis… I was just like any other kid playing. You know how that can feel like, right? Can’t you imagine regular lessons, regular games, not having to prep for grand galas and stately visits?"

Didn't that sound familiar? Of course she could imagine. It went hand in hand with the rest of being royalty. "Of course I can understand." She sighed. "But we are not that lucky, to live anything close to what most call a normal life. I’ll make sure your clothes are fixed… but you owe me big time, you understand?"

"You are the greatest sister in the universe. I’ll have the biggest statue put up in your honor."

"Please don’t…"

Giving Allura the biggest hug he could give, he promised, "then I'll work my hardest at my lessons, for a start. We can work out the rest of what I owe later."

Allura watched as her brother ran off once more. She wasn’t sure where to begin with fixing the mess he'd made of his clothes… but she was thinking a whole bottle of red wine might be needed get it done fast and to keep it done quietly. She might toss in some of her own money, to help with the costs and keep any records of the repair off the books.

It wasn't easy being in her position. There was a reason it was falling to her to be the intermediary with Larmina, along with keeping her brother out of trouble… she was old enough to accept her responsibilities, but still young enough to feel their sting. But like the crown itself, it was a difficult role, but a rewarding one. And by the time she was finished gathering up Tanner's clothes, she'd let that affectionate smile show.

As for her wish for a statue not to appear, well… later that night she found a gift made of linking bricks in her room, along with a few runaway bricks she might have found with her bare feet. Ooh, Tanner! But it wasn’t going to stop her from loving him… no, it wouldn't change a thing.