Private Green and Black and Blue

[In Rhan]

Aside from the embarrassment of having to use Niysha like the world's most cultured ladder, In was more than pleased with the result. After toggling the service mode off and spinning the electrical mode back into function, the port-side Garuda engine woke up as usual. With more than a little trepidation, In engaged the shield to see if the engine would stagger again. The field passed over it... no stagger. From that one, at least. The sister engine on the other side of the ship lurched as usual, which further confirmed the problem. At least they both had the same problem.

In slid back against the bulkhead with an exhausted laugh, brushing her hair back. "One stupid wire. That's all it was. One stupid wire with an internal fault. You're a damn miracle, Nysha. And I mean that sincerely." The Pantoran woman promised. "Saved me so much money with that little trick."

She gave the port-side sublight an appraising look, then offered her newest best friend a broad smile. In hated feeling gross, being overheated. But it was a FANTASTIC look for Niysha. Sweat rivulets, flushed cheeks, clinging clothes - she looked like a shop calendar pinup between shoots.

"Feel like finishing the job? It can wait until we get to port if you'd like, now that we know what's wrong. We'll have to open up the other one, anyway. So really - it's up to you." In snickered. "Though if it sweetens the deal for you at all, once we hit port I'll get a step ladder so you won't have to boostie my scrawny butt."

 

[Niysha]

Niysha offered a slightly tired smile from her position in the blissfully chill portion of the ship that wasn't two electrical fires strapped to a nuclear explosion. "Your but isn't scrawny," she replied. "But a ladder would be prudent anyway."

She did need to brace herself. It was going to be very, very, fabulously hot in there during this work, same as last time. But doing it now meant that a professional would have a symmetrical disaster to fix later at the very least, and that there might actually be a disaster to fix. Niysha really needed to talk to In about that when they were done. Gently. Possibly very gently. "Sure," she replied, and once more they got to work.

One way or another, Niysha was going to earn that burrito. And now that second shower.

 

[In Rhan]

The two set to work. Compared to the first engine, the second was a bear to work with - some old structural issue had dented the service gap, which made it harder to reach the coupling and cut the wire. This meant more time on poor Niysha's shoulders, more time leaning against the hot bulkhead trying to get the right angle to cut the faulty wire and then crimp down the replacement. By the time the job was done, both women were ready to collapse - but the twin engines were powered up and thrumming merrily, the malfunction sorted. The patch job would hold until they could get to a proper dock and open the manifold, replace the wane-shaft cabling in full.

After some time to cool down and shower, In got to work cooking - rolling out the red carpet for her new crewmate and her fantastic hair.

In's burritos were fantastic. She had a lot of time to work on them, and most of the ingredients that weren't dairy or meat came from her garden. Flatbreads and tortillas might be forever ruined for Niysha after having the real, homemade thing - hot, flexible, toothsome, and tasty enough even without the filling. Niysha'd soon learn that In prepared them in bulk, keeping dozens in her freezer for such meals - or to eat raw, or fry up into chips.

A lovingly prepared peppery salsa with the perfect (high) amount of burn, heavy seasoning, cool greens to provide crunch and simple grains heavily spiced to give body and structure. Assembled hot, the melted cheese provided a bit of adhesion to a clumsily-folded burrito... but inevitable mess was part of the experience. It was a meal where one could discard the pretense of high manners and simply enjoy the experience.

A toasty-sweet cactus liquor in a sweet red juice made for the perfect accompaniment, chunks of the mild melon still floating in the pitcher.

 

[Niysha]

Niysha made sure to take longer in her second shower of the day than she strictly needed to. She enjoyed a decently cool spray of water, properly pampered herself with an actual hair routine this time, the works. When she eventually emerged from the refresher, the entire ship smelled delicious. Days of having the occasional BLF sandwich from Andros' place interspersed with whatever nutripaste she needed to keep her stomach from growling had not done her appetite any favors.

Her last set of clothes were sweaty and awful again, so she swapped back to the shirt she'd met In wearing and a pair of indoor shorts. Niysha's legs were honestly only slightly more impressive than the rest of her body, but neither of these facts even really registered for her. Her sense of aesthetics was possibly the most wildly alien thing about her, compared to other species.

Eventually, she was ready to enjoy a hellishly spicy, warm, fresh-cooked meal made with equal parts sadism and love by a woman who might well have been psychotic. At least the drinks were nice, and alcohol cut down on the bite of the spicy wraps significantly.

In between bites, Niysha found some time to engage in at least a hint of smalltalk. Just a hint, though. She was looking forward to having more such conversations over breakfast. And perhaps even the breakfast after that. It was very, very nice to have a place she might not have belonged, but could at least linger in longer than normal.