The night is young indeed, was Junebug’s first thought when she regained consciousness. Her second thought was that she was going to kill Neil. Painfully and assuming she managed to get up. Trying to ignore her pounding head she pushed herself to her feet, somewhat relieved to find herself in her bunk on the Highlander clad her undershirt and ... were those Taya’s panties! How in the Void had she ended up wearing them? Vainly she tried to pull together memories of the previous evening but could only muster disconnected snap shots. A bar somewhere with Neil with pounding techno music. Throwing her cards down on the table in delight to the groans of unknown companions at some different establishment. Moving down a row of shot glasses that smoked like the barrel of a slug thrower. She even had a vague memory of dancing on a table and…. Ugggh. 

With another groan she pushed herself up out of bed. Ger face was tacky with something and she tasted it experimentally of the tip of finger relieved to find that it was sweet and someone hadn’t hit her with a bottle or some other such mishap. Reaching down she pulled a medical hydration bag from her arm and tossed it into the trash. The flexible silicone bag bounced and flicked out of the can flopping sullenly onto the floor. Yes she was definitely going to kill Neil. Right after she got this furry taste out of her mouth.

With a low keening moan she mustered her will and propelled herself across the room and into the tiny shower. Without bothering to remove her clothing she turned the unit to full bore and let the warm water wash down over her like a cleansing waterfall. With the Highlander tied into Beckett’s Node’s water system for the duration of its stay, there was no reason, beyond a few extra credit in surcharge, to save water so she let the hot jet sluice away the worst of the damage. She opened her mouth and let the water clean the hoppy, ashy aftertaste of too many drinks and too many cigarettes from it before finally mustering the energy to remove her sodden garments. With some chagrin she checked herself over, relieved to find that no new tattoos had appeared as a result of last nights revelry.  Such things had happened before. Once her skin was almost red from the hot water she gritted her teeth and switched it to full cold. As veteran of one of the most fearsome mercenary units in the galaxy, she was pleased when only a small squeal escaped her as the ice jet jolted her fully awake.

“Lonney,” she called from the shower, facing the icy torrent with the resolution of the condemned before a firing squad.

“Are Neil and Taya aboard?”

“AYE AYE CAPT’N!” Lonney chirruped in a voice far too loud and far too chipper for her throbbing head. Junebug made a sound somewhere between a squeal and a curse. Neil had switched the bloody voice back at some point. After she got some coffee she was definitely heading for the arms locker. At least she knew they had all gotten back safely and she wouldn’t have to spend the day coming brothels and bars for her crew. Staggering out of the shower she half heartedly dabbed herself with a towel and took a couple of analgesics from her medical kit, chewing the bitter pills rather than swallowing them both to increase their speed and to avoid the metaphor it implied.

Pulling on her gym shorts and a bra she wrapped the towel around her hair and stepped out into main hold. Taya lay across an empty crate dressed in a single unlaced combat boot, a sarai of unknown provenance and a leather jacket Junebug vaguely remembered rolling some sort of prismatic dice for. Stars above she hadn’t been this hammered since after they got pulled off the line following the holding action at… the remembered taste of burned flesh rose in her throat and her gorge rose. Stars. Maybe not think about that.

After some effort she managed go get down the ladder to the galley and produce a cup of hot black coffee. For a moment she considered the ration packs that lay stacked on the shelf without enthusiasm. What was she thinking? They were back in civilization now right? With a surge of benevolence that momentarily washed away her desire to murder her pilot, she bought up a meal ordering service and order the biggest greasiest breakfast she could find and charged it to the ship. The machine beeped irritably and a large ‘Credit Declined’ flashed up on the screen.

“What the fucking fuck?” she snarled. Even if they had blown all the cash they had been carrying last night, and that was a real possibility, they should still have plenty of credit with the station. Most of the funds had been put in escrow for the repairs anyway. She tried again. Credit declined.

“Lonney pull up or accounts would you?” she asked taking a scalding hot mouthful of coffee.

“Aye aye!...” Sayeeda clutched at her still pounding head with her free hand.

“Gods and Demons turn it down a little will you!” she snarled. Was it her imagination or was Lonney getting back at her for threatening to voice him as an opera singer?  The screen blanked and then a logo rotated on the screen for a moment. Eron Banking Corporation - Empowering Your Future. Junebug ground her teeth before a healthy balance appeared on the screen only to be covered by a yellow alert box.  Account Temporarily Suspended, followed by a contact frequency.

“Lonney, without verbally responding, patch me through to this number,” Junebug tried. There was a loud ping of acknowledgement. Behind her she heard Taya groan and stumble toward the bathroom, one combat boot clanking noisily on the deck.

“Very fucking…” the connection went through and a blandly pleasant AI voice fielded the call.

“Eron Banking how may we help you?” Junebug leaned forward placing both hands on the countertop.

“You can unfreeze my account before I come down their and open fire,” she said in a pleasant fashion.

“Threats of violence do not increase customer service times,” the AI responded tartly.

“Your escrow account has been purchased by a third party, in compliance with our terms of service. You are required to sign the transfer documents in person before your account will be restored. Would you like directions to our location?” the AI concluded happily.

“Fuuuuck,” she groaned and stalked back to her room anger, or the pain killers, having taken the worst of the edge off her hangover. She rifled through the pockets of her discarded clothing, strewn randomly across the cabin at some point in the ethanol blurred evening and pulled out a handful of credit chips. With more groaning she pulled on a white t-shirt with ‘I’m a regular God Damn Princess’ scrawled across it in some swirly rainbow script and the background of a pink unicorn and then pulled on a pair of combat pants. Suitably armored, she stalked past the bathroom, in which a moaning Taya clutched the receptacle for dear life, and began pounding on Neils door with a balled fist.

“Neil! Wake up!” she yelled stuffing the credit chips into her hip pocket, “We need to get some breakfast. And then maybe shoot some people.”


[@POOHEAD189]