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sense of the controls – of the ship herself, having a long standing belief that every ship had a personality.
    He let out a long, contented sigh, “It’s nice to finally meet you in person, babe.” He spoke aloud.
    “I believe we already met, no?”
    Charlie nearly jumped out of his skin as a Russian voice sounded from above him. His chin shot up as he reeled backward, feeling like he had jumped out of his skin. He’d arrived thinking he would be the first aboard by a long shot. To his very real surprise, he found that Makenna had army-crawled her way into the circuitry in the overhead compartments. She had a panel open and was reading diagnostics on her glass tablet. She’d spoken without looking away from the interface, otherwise disinterested in the pilot outside of wanting to make sure he didn’t blather on any further.
    Charlie took a moment to try and slow his heart. “What are you..?” He started, but it was obvious what she was doing. “I thought you said the ship was ready to launch?”
    “Da,” she answered, tapping the glass surface and then making an adjustment on the panel. “It will fly. But when I fix, it will fly well.”
    Charlie walked the length of the bulkhead where Mekenna had been working. Several other panels were open with wires exposed and some looking tangled. “We launch in three hours!” Charlie exclaimed, his voice clearly indicating, ‘what a mess!’
    “You no worry,” she reassured him in the brisk coldness that only Russians seemed to be able to master. “I fix.”
    “Well, when you put it that way, I feel much better.” Charlie shook his head, gave one more wayward look at the open circuitry and forced himself to walk away. He brought his focus back to the pilot’s control panel and sat down with considerably less enthusiasm than when he arrived.
    Niko arrived next, speaking to no one and relegating himself to the small briefing room located just off the bridge to pore over the classified star charts he had been given for the mission. When the doctor arrived, everyone knew that he had. Overburdened with bags, he fumbled up the loading ramp, and then the set of stairs that led to the bridge, knocking into things as he went.
    From where she was shoulder deep into one of the floor consoles, Mekanna shot him a dark look. He was dangerously close to stepping into a hole in the decking she’d made by removing one of the tile squares. If he did so, he would probably break his ankle but, more importantly, he’d crush the circuit board that controlled part of the floor heating system, which would have been unacceptable. She was presently re-routing the system to bypass the heating – which she considered an unnecessary luxury – to more important ship functions.
    Charlie noticed the same hazard and asked in an effort to mitigate any damage, “Need a hand, Doc?”
    Winston looked visibly relieved at the offer and handed over all his bags to Charlie, “Much obliged.”
    Charlie’s lips pressed together and he thought very hard for a moment before deciding in favor of restraint. “Sure, Doc.” He murmured, looking for a space to haul the load. The ship was made for function, not storage, and he wondered if the good Doctor had gotten the memo.
    He turned with the bags and was suddenly faced with a small, redheaded woman. Her hair just brushed her shoulders, wavy and somewhat mussed. She had an excited smile on her face and all Charlie could think to say was, “Uh, hi.”
    “Excuse me, miss, are you lost?” The doctor elaborated on Charlie’s thought.
    “I’m Finn Connolly,” She held up the heavy looking camera that hung around her neck into view. “The photographer,” she smiled and added – “I know what yer thinkin’, wit a name like Finn – and ye’d be right, my da wanted a boy.” She explained, exaggerating her elegant Irish lilt. “Don’t ya worry, I get it all the time.” She began to unwrap the scarf from around her neck. It looked well-traveled,