XXXXThe last thing Meg remembered was standing on the bridge, commanding her crew... oh and the new girl who kept arguing with her. She built this ship and its crew from the ground up. One would think that would make her an expert on the subject. Obviously, Gadget did not.
Which is why Meg was dumbfounded when she woke back in her room on her bed. At first, she wondered if it had all been a dream. Then she heard sounds on the other end of her room and she rose to potentially attack and froze. If she hadn't been dreaming before she woke she had to have been dreaming after. There, in her chair was her first pilot and her gunner engaging in a dance of tonsil tango while an open bottle of her favorite whiskey was open on her desk and nearly empty. Needless to say, she spoke up because she could only handle so much of that.
She made an inquiry as to how she ended up back in her room and was met with... vague answers. The only one really given was that the new girl--Eon--had somehow helped her and Nat and Roz had carried her back to her room to rest until she regained consciousness. When Meg made further inquiries...she was met with "go find her and ask her". Paraphrased, of course.
So here stands the captain of the Stardust, who had left two very drunk and probably very turned on crew members in her cabin--something she was sure to regret when she returned--and wandered through her ship to the door of Gadget. Her arm raised, fist prepared to knock, but she paused. Hesitance wasn't a trait of Meg's. She was unfamiliar with the sensation of faltering, but she couldn't wrap her head around what happened and she couldn't even begin to figure out how she would approach the subject once she entered the room.
She lowered her arm and turned as if to walk away, but found herself spinning back around and staring, once more, at the girl's door. Just knock, Cunningham. Get ahold of yourself. For stars' sake. She took a deep breath and raised her hand once more, only this time, she brought it down in three hard knocks. "I have a hell of a lot of gaps in my memories that need filling and a hell of a lot of questions that need answering so if you would be so kind as to open this damn door we may commence with the conversation." It took everything in her not to pound her head against the door in frustration.
What was she new to language? Was she born yesterday? What the hell was that?