Naptime

Team Tachyon made their way to the port sluggishly. New as she was, Millia did not want to be making demands, but she was itching to move things along after spending so much time stagnant. Insufferable as it was, they did - in fact - reach their destination in Millia's lifetime. It was a spaceship, and a good-sized one at that. It was not one of those meager shuttles used to taxi on short flights between worlds. Millia knew enough to recognize this as one of the vessels that doubled as a residence. Oscine was decaled near the nose of the craft.

The team ascended the gangway and Millia was granted a look at the interior. It was a nice ship; either new, or well cared for. A sort of common area was situated in its belly and looked to act as a crossroads to different regions in the vessel. Millia followed the trio until she realized they were making for their bunks.

"Um, are you guys going to get changed, or...?"

Helki barked a weak laugh. "Maybe if I can manage before passing out."

"We're going to get some rest," Eloxochitl said plainly. "You're welcome to do so too. Help yourself to one of the spare bunks."

"Oh," Millia said, almost keeping the disappointment from her voice. "Is there anything I could do in the meantime? Maybe check weapons, or inspect the engine, or maybe there were some calibrations you were in the middle of?"

"Yeah, sure," the team leader responded, not sounding invested in the conversation. "If you want to get dinner started, or have some tea ready in a couple of hours, that would be great."

I did not join this team to be your damn housemaid!

While Millia was formulating a response that wouldn't get her kicked off the team, Eloxochitl took the silence to mean the exchange was over. The Quetzalcoatl vanished into her bunkroom. Millia was left fuming in the passage.

What kind of tea takes two hours to prepare, anyway?

Millia certainly did not feel inclined to make domestic labour her first act as a part of this team. Like any newbie, she was an F-Rank adventurer, sure, but that did not mean she would accept just any old task thrown at her. With no one else around or awake, Millia decided for herself that she would take a tour of the ship. Since she was already there, she would start with the bunks.

There were six independent suites in total, which was to say that this was a very nice ship indeed. Most craft of this size might have an executive suite or two, but the remainder of the bunks would be in one or two shared rooms. Space was a premium in ships that could withstand vacuum, and separate rooms were a waste of it. Millia noted this with some appreciation as she deposited her bag beside the drawers. The room itself was not massive, but a private washroom and a fair-sized bed were not to be taken for granted. The room even had a porthole. At the press of a button, the protective shutter retracted and, voilà, Millia had a bedroom window. At the moment, it was just a mundane view of the hangar, but during trips it would be a serene panorama of pristine blackness and twinkling stars.

Done romanticizing, she moved on with her tour. Near the bunks was the mess. A small collection of benches and chairs arranged around a pair of tables. The kitchen was stocked with ingredients and utensils, but Millia could tell that a grocery trip was due soon.

Much of the rest of the craft was space for engineers to inspect and maintain the vehicle's systems. On her tour, Millia saw the engine room, power core, radiation shield generator, plumbing, atmosphere recycler, internet router, and a handful of other things she did not recognize.

Last on her tour was the cockpit. It was cramped with controls and displays, but suitably sized for the ship. A pair of seats were stationed before the compound viewport. Millia swiveled one of them absentmindedly as she studied the controls. Her adventuring education had included a rudimentary understanding of spacecraft, but she would not be asking for a turn at the helm any time soon. However, she could tell that there were no weapons systems to be found.

Good to know.

Her attention was pulled away when she heard a footfall in the corridor behind her. She whirled around, hopeful that Team Tachyon took shorter naps than she was familiar with.

"Hello?" she called out.

"Yes, hello? Who's there?" answered an unfamiliar voice.

Millia felt an edge of anticipation. Were there more members of Team Tachyon than she knew? Had someone broken in while the others were asleep?

"Uh, Millia," she responded with uncertainty. Without anything around to defend herself with, the demihuman tensed, readying herself in the event that she had to put her hand-to-hand training to use. The footsteps rose as they drew near. They stopped when the owner was framed in the doorway to the cockpit.

Before Millia stood an android - a masculine looking automaton. This was already an innocuous sight, but better still were the... alterations made to him. In several places he had handwritten messages scrawled on his plating. Hunk, **** Machine, and Zap-anator were just a few examples. On his shoulder were several stickers of unicorns and butterflies. Best of all, on his face was a set of fake glasses, the kind with a nose and moustache attached.

Millia nearly snorted at the sight of him.

"Huh, you're new," the robot said after doing his own assessment of her. "Do you have permission to be on this ship."

"Yeah, I'm Millia, the newest member of Team Tachyon."

"Well in that case, welcome aboard. My name is Carapace, and I am the steward of the Oscine."

Thank goodness, they already have a maid.

"Nice to meet you," Millia said with an outstretched hand. Carapace met her and shook it. He was limber in his movements, nearly lifelike.

"I mean no disrespect, but just to be clear, I will be verifying your claim when my mistresses awaken. So if you are lying about being on the team, you had better scurry off now." He moved aside, making room for her to pass in the event that she accepted his offer. When she made no motion to depart, he faced her again. "Hm, either honest, or bold. Welcome anyway. Let me know if you need anything," he said moving back into the corridor.

"Ahem before you go," Millia caught him, "you have something right..." she trailed off not sure whether to gesture to her face, or torso, or anywhere else that he sported decorating.

Carapace took a moment to interpret her meaning before coming to an understanding. "Ah, I suppose Mistress Najma had another one of her 'makeover' sessions with me. Not to worry. Nothing a little warm water and time in front of the mirror can't fix." After that, he turned around and walked out.

With his back to her, Millia spied something on it. A note had been affixed to it, one that read Recycle Me.