Hannah helped Silas get his things into the grav locker, inputting the lock code just as the cargo hatch began to close. She grinned—she loved takeoff. Up in the black, nothing ever really felt [i]fast[/i] like it did when they were breaking the atmosphere.

"Here, Mister Fairbanks," she said as the cargo hold pressurized for liftoff. "Buckle up." She grabbed the 'buckles' in question from a tangle hanging on a hook at the side of the hold—in reality, just heavy-duty bungee cords. She held one out to him, and clipped another to the buckle of her own belt—not exactly safe, or all that secure, but it would stop her from getting thrown across the room, at least. Honestly, the only other ship Hannah had ever been on, she'd traveled in a crate—this seemed perfectly safe to her.

And a good thing too—April took off with her usual flair, and Hannah cheered as her feet flew out from underneath her. She was suspended for a moment by the bungee cord tethered to the back of her belt, and then the artificial gravity asserted itself and her feet came crashing back to the deck. Unhooking the cord with the air of long practice, she smoothly stuck out hands and feet from her position to one side of the hold to catch crates and barrels rolling. When she had to resort to ducking and catching a falling sheaf of documents on her back, she started whistling again, rolling them back to their proper places.

When she was done, Hannah dusted off her hands and turned back to Silas with a bright smile. "And that's liftoff!" she said cheerfully. "Care to take the tour? There's really not much to see, but it's good to know where you eat, yknow?"