Syndulla Scrap, Friday

[futurespacemom]

For once, the cursing coming from the Ghost wasn't in binary; that would be because Hera was painted in various shades of purple, red, and blue. And was busy setting up shields to hopefully keep the worst of it off the Ghost.

"This had better not be permanent!" she yelled at the island in general.

The junkyard was open, but Hera wasn't coming out unless you had an umbrella.

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[somethingwithturquoise]

Summer had an umbrella, but it hadn't done her much good. A nice errant wind blew it out of the way just long enough for her to get wet and had turned a rather noticeable shade of turquoise. There could be worse things, she supposed, but she felt it was some sort of karma for all her empty threats. She wanted to do something with turquoise, not be something in turquoise!

At least it worked really nicely with her hair color. But, gripping her umbrella tightly and her backpack even more tightly, she braved the weather to get to the junkyard to drop off some very important things.

"Ms. Hera?" she called, entering cautiously as if she expected to be attacked by a bunch of junkyard dogs. "Are you here?"

[futurespacemom]

The closest thing to a junkyard dog around here was Chopper, and...okay, that was fair. But today he was resolutely not going outside.

And that voice was one person Hera didn't want to ignore. She stepped halfway down the Ghost's ramp and waved. "Over here, Summer!"

[somethingwithturquoise]

And it was hard to mis an appearance like thay.

"Oh, cool! Is that your ship?"

[futurespacemom]

"This is the Ghost." Hera patted the ship fondly. "Come on in. I have some towels if you want, though the color doesn't seem to wash off."

[somethingwithturquoise]

"Thanks." Summer was going to waste no time hurrying up that ramp. "Man, I hope it's not permanent. Not that there's anything wrong with being blue, of course, but I'm going to have to revamp my entire wardrobe."

Once inside, shaking off her umbrella before she went completely through the door, Summer shifted her backpack so she could dig something out of it: a very colorful folder with a horse and butterflies on it. "I got all those maps for you. Plus a few others things I thought might be helpful about the Federation. I hope none of it got too wet on the way over."

[futurespacemom]

"I'd rather not be multicolored myself," Hera said. "It's a bit too distinctive, if nothing else."

She handed Summer a towel and took the folder. "Oh, great! Chop, stop sulking and come get these, please."

Chopper wheeled out with a series of disgruntled beeps.

"Summer, this is Chopper." She showed him the maps. "We need to get these input and referenced so we can get a proper holo. Think you can help?"

[somethingwithturquoise]

Ohmygod. Cute little beeping robot. Summer might need a moment.

"Hiiiiii, Chopper," she gushed. "I'm Summer! Thank you for helping!"

[futurespacemom]

Chopper gave a rude-sounding blatt, but scanned the documents Hera was holding out.

He chirped at Hera excitedly, who grinned. "Yep, a whole new galaxy. Don't store it with the rest of what we've got so far, though; it might be totally different. We just need to get some proper spatial readings."

[somethingwithturquoise]

Sorry, Chopper. It was goiNg to take more than a rude-sounding blatt to keep Summer from foisting unwarranted adoration on your cute, beeping self.

She was, however, nicely distracted by the process itself. "This is so cool," she said. "Did you program him yourself, or did he, um, come like this? He? Right?"

[futurespacemom]

"He," Hera confirmed. "I found him and rebuilt him, so a bit of both, really. And he's always had his own personality.

"And yes, Chop," she added before he could chime in, "I'm sorry to talk around you instead of to you, but Summer doesn't understand binary."

[somethingwithturquoise]

"Yeah," Summer blushed a little, "sorry. I barely even passed Spainish class. Or math, for that matter."

Mostly because she just didn't want to, but not the ooint.

[futurespacemom]

"Don't worry," Hera assured her, "a lot of folks don't, and a lot more only know the basics. All done, Chop?"

He confirmed with a beep, and Hera handed the papers back to Summer. "It'll probably take a while for him to find the reference points to join them on. Want a tour?"

[somethingwithturquoise]

"Ooh, yes, please! That would be cool. Your ship is WAY bigger and WAY nicer than my Grampa's."

Not that it was hard. Pretty much anything was nicer than that piece of space garbage.

[futurespacemom]

"What sort of ship does he have?" Hera asked.

[somethingwithturquoise]

"I'm not really sure?" Summer admitted with a helpless shrug. "But it's definitely small. Like, tiny. The cockpit on this ship is probably bigger. It looks like one of those janky prop ships in cheesy sci-fi movies."

Which Hera might have never seen, so it was kind of a crap reference. So out came the gestures to match her attempts to describe it. "It's, like, just a dome? With a skirt all around it? Driver's seat, passenger seat, and a small back seat barely big enough to"--sneak in a boy to make out with--"fit a third person. But, I mean, it works, so there's that. Function over form. I've even driven it a few times! Actually, I think odriven Grampa Rick's ship more than my parents let me drive their car..."

[futurespacemom]

"Huh. Sounds more like an escape pod, but steerable." Hera shrugged. "The Ghost is classed as a light freighter - designed to carry cargo, but more crates than huge equipment. And she's had a few modifications." Like more power and weaponry than most freighters.

She led Summer down the corridor. "There's also room for a crew of six, so there's bunks and a galley."