"Yo, Plog!!" Slowl said as the chiss emerged from his quarters for the first time in weeks.
Plog closed his eyes and brought his fingers to his temple. "Shhh… Too loud."
"Hah!" Slowl slapped him on the back and continued down the corridor.
After carefully making his way to the common room, Plog bumped into Gravok.
"You okay?" the doc asked. "That wound healing up fine?"
Plog nodded and sat down at the table across from Grint. The grizzled mechanic was stifling a laugh, but Plog barely noticed as he shoved some gruel into his mouth. It tasted like engine grease.
"We're in space," Plog said, half-questioning and half-declaring. "Who's flying?"
Grint laughed and rose to his feet. "Why don't you go see for yourself."
With the meds clouding his thoughts, Plog didn't know what the mechanic was talking about. Slowly, and with many pauses to control the dizziness, Plog made his way to the cockpit of the Mistress Flasks. He tried a few times and finally hit the button to open the cockpit door.
And he was immediately sobered.
The colors assaulted him first. Someone had painted each knob, button and lever a different color. Swaths of yellow, purple, blue and green traced their way through the entire cockpit. Who would do such a thing? And why?
His eyes fixated on the pink fuzzy dice hanging down over the controls. Wait – one of the plush's was a die, the other was a unicorn head. With sparkles. What was he looking at? Was he still hallucinating?
Finishing a complete circuit, his gaze finally landed on the lone figure in the room. Rio was in the pilot's chair, her feet carelessly on the controls in a lounging position and her head bobbing from some music she was listening to.
Reacting to the movement, she turned and smiled at him. "Oh, heya Plog!"
He was going to kill her.