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Still here.
Kelan did not provide much in terms of factual answers. Not that it mattered much, they found them anyway, but surely there must have been more to their instructions than ‘A bunch of unspecified supersoldiers defected from the Ascendancy, meet them at this place X days from now, go’. Tough times ahead if that was the way this group worked. But maybe slaving away for the Office of Intelligence spoiled her. “So it would seem. I’m Rachel." She leaned forward and offered him a hand. Normally she wouldn’t do so as her most invasive spell required physical contact so the gesture might be misinterpreted, but where was the harm since they didn’t seem to know? "Muscle, eh? At first glance, it doesn’t look like much of it is left. At least Stella will find a kindred spirit here.”

Seeing Eldrid's reaction to what she assumed was the liquified essence of hell made her appreciate that Eldrid beat her to Orky's mystery brew. “You should've asked that before you took a swig." she laughed, greatly amused by her comrade's reaction. "Because it looks like a mix of reactor coolant and spent fuel to me, no offense Orky. What did it taste like?"
After John’s summary of the rude lady’s past, Rachel was sure she sensed a ‘kid did his homework’ comment coming from someone. If there was one, it got lost in the background noises of the docking bays even to her augmented ears. Likely due to the excitement over the invitation to dinner.

“Colonists from the outer reaches hated the Ascendancy’s leadership enough as it is. If this surfaced, many would oppose it. Public unrest all over the edges of the empire just wasn’t something they could afford in the middle of a losing war.” Rachel shared her opinion as her mug slid into her waiting palm seemingly on its own, “Many of the aliens I interacted with couldn’t believe it either, even near the end of the war. There was often a bit of confused disbelief when they learned the hard truth.” Taking a long sip of the warm liquid, she turned to their new crew “How much were you told about us, anyway?” Given the crew seemed to be unaware of who they were prior to the actual meeting, who knew what critical details might have slipped the net?
“Yeah, sleep is for the weak, I’m afraid. she thought in response to Dev’s message. It would be even worse now, as the only way she could ever find anything in the cargo bay was by asking Anderson where it was. There was a method to his madness, but one she couldn’t uncover.

“Tango? Please send our illustrious Mr. Arx the appropriate damage report for the damage he caused to the hallway to fill out. Do not use my templates, only the barebones. Attach a note instructing him to get it to me for review in 36 hours.” She was not entirely sure she could do that, but was worth a try. Maybe slogging through the shitfest that was the paperwork would curb his affinity for misdirected destruction.

After a short trip to an equipment locker, she got to work with a jolly tune on her lips, first welding temporary seals over the breached walls to get the hard part over with, then attending to the lighter damage from weapons fire and damage caused by the shattered crate and its contents. At least her work became easier when Dev marked down the cargo that was lost or damaged in the fight. There was a word or two of gratitude to be said later.

It took a few hours to get through the worst of it, including piling up the dead Ulnar near one of the airlocks. Having decided the minor damage to the rest of the ship could wait, Astrid called it a day and retreated to her cabin, turning the rough drafts into full damage reports. She sent the finished ones to the captain with a note promising the rest would be complete before they made it to port and laid down for some hopefully uninterrupted sleep.
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Hello!
Much appreciated, although we did specifically say "if there is space" and "if there's room" :)
If there's room, sign me up.
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