As it turns out, the answer to what the rest of the ship looked like was A lot of bunks. Well, at least we could have our own rooms now. Though given that the ship was built for a crew in excess of two hundred, it may be necessary to get a little creative in our decoration, or we’d easily lose our rooms. We agreed to leave the other rooms alone, for now, it seemed like Reliance wouldn’t appreciate the ship changing too quickly, and the crew who had once lived on board were probably important to her. (I say her as the default for most ships, and because of her vocal presentation. For all I knew, they changed that depending on who they were interacting with. But how do you go about asking an umpteen kajillion tonne warship their pronouns? Just ask next time I talk to them, I guess. Also, note to self, never talk about the ship's weight again, some folks are sensitive about that sort of thing, and the time to find that out is definitely not when they have a method of air-locking you whenever they pleased.)

There was an armoury onboard, which was sweet for us, though according to the records if the captain took most of them off ship without an official requisition form they would instantly become less combat worthy than a brick. That bit was less sweet.

It did take the sting out that the terminals also showed I could requisition the weapons appropriate to my rank without the need for forms. According to the records, that was a piece of kit called pulse bracers, which basically looked like old-timey bits of armour that covered your arms. Pulse greaves, that were pretty much the same thing, except geared to fit the legs. Some kind of weird-looking pistol thing that looked like hell to maintain, and a protective vest of sorts. Oh! And a dubious little jump drive called a UAC unit, which would help me learn to use my bracers and greaves in combat. Or, if corrupted, probably turn my brain into something resembling a soft pudding. As little as I use my brain, I still like having one, so I put that bit to one side for now.

The girls considered whether they counted as crew yet, and decided that erring on the side of caution was best when dealing with ancient tech with a propensity for self-detonation. Best wait till we could talk to Reliance again, and make sure they were properly listed as crew. That reminded me, where the hell was she? Or rather, when would she talk to us again? Technically, she was in the main server in the middle of the bridge, but talking to that was hardly likely to achieve much.

There was some kind of holo training suite, which looked like a pretty sweet idea, till we figured out it was a mark four, meaning a model with sensory feedback. That meant if you got hurt you felt it, great for training, enjoyment? Not so much.

We continued the exploration for a little longer, before being snapped out of it by a sound I’d only heard twice in my life. That was Jenel squealing either in excitement (unlikely,) or pain, (equally unlikely, that gal does not express herself. Seriously, I’ve seen her drop an Unobtainium bar on her foot, and not even flinch. That shit is heavy. If you can even get your hands on it.)

Naturally, at that point it was agreed we should hustle, we dashed to where her signal was, only to find the scariest sight I had ever seen in my life. Jenel was SMILING, like genuinely, both corners of her mouth turned up smiling. I thought a snarl would be more likely to show her teeth than that.

“OK, this is my room, no need to find me a bunk room, I’ll just take a hammock down here.”

I looked at the room full of withered plants doubtfully. It had probably been a ponics bay at some point, but plants tend to need light, and a dark ship had not been kind to them.

“Uhhh are you sure about that Jenel? I mean, breathing this crap can’t be healthy, you really wanna mess with this?”

“You mean to tell me you can’t see the potential?” She raved. “We could clear the place out, and replant with herbs, spices, crops. Think about how many creds we could save in the long run.”

“We’ve gotta get the plants first Jan, organics out here don’t come cheap. I love that you’re so excited about it and all, but are you really so sure you wanna get into all that? One screw up, and we’ll all be living on dehydrasnax for months to pay it back.” I couldn’t suppress a shudder at that thought, if you’d ever tasted dehydrasnax you would understand why. It’s like chewing on a plate load of packing peanuts, then washing them down with a dirt smoothie, and we aren’t even talking the good dirt here. We’re talking ash scraped from the soot on the launch ramps.

“If it means I get to live in a garden? Then I’ll take it, all these poor babies deserved better than this. Hell, you like apples right? Maybe we can even get a few apple trees in.”

“I like apple SHOTS Jen, decidedly less apple-y, and more boozy. But it would be a good way to earn a few creds, just don’t expect me to cook, alright?”

“Like we’d ever do that, hell, we’re outright banning you from cooking duty here and now.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know, I’m a great cook.”

“Covering a pack of jerky in chilli sauce isn’t cooking Eileen, no cooking, please. You just made captain, do you really want your first action to be poisoning your crew?”

“FINE.” I pouted, “you heathens don’t deserve my culinary genius anyway.”

Jen didn’t hear though, she was well and truly off in her own little world, examining the plants, and trying to note what equipment was still in working order.

“Well first off we need to clear out these water channels, maybe we can pick up something to make them look pretty. Not buy, obviously, but we can probably find some stuff. Then a lot of these plants can probably get incinerated to mix with the soil. Help the next generation in a sense I guess."

“You sound just like crew woman, Orson.” Came a familiar voice from nowhere. “She always used to love it down here, if you look you’d probably find her hammock here too.”