The hangar bays at Bethea cut deep into the mountain's ice, and they carried the cold with them.

Tokkyu stood near the docking bay of her RS8, arms wrapped tight around herself, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. Her breath came out in thin clouds. The undersuit was supposed to regulate temperature - that's what the briefing packet had said - but she was still freezing. Around her, mechanics moved with the practiced efficiency of people who'd done this a hundred times before, prepping the Astaroth for its final testing session.

"You know," came a familiar voice from behind her, "there's a reason they give us these suits."

She turned to find Alano approaching, already in his own uniform but looking far more comfortable than she felt. He had that amused expression he got when he knew something she didn't.

"I'm wearing the suit," Tokkyu said, a bit defensively. "It's just- it's not working."

"Did you turn it on?"

"Turn it...?" She stopped. "There's an on switch?"

Alano's grin widened. He stepped closer and tapped a barely-visible button near her collarbone. Almost immediately, warmth began spreading across her torso and down her limbs. She let out an involuntary sigh of relief.

"Climate control module," he said. "Local regulation. You've been standing here freezing for what, twenty minutes?"

"Shut up."

"Should've been here the last two days. I could've shown you, y'know." He was already backing away toward the exit. "Have fun out there, Miyahira. Try not to freeze mid-flight."

She waved him off dismissively, though she was smiling despite herself. "Get out of here already."

Alano left with a casual salute, and Tokkyu returned her attention to the RS8. The mechanics gave her the signal - systems green, ready for entry. She climbed into the cockpit, feeling the familiar anchor points of the ship's S.U.O. system lock into place around her jaw and ears. The A₃ visor came down, and suddenly the world expanded - a panorama of seamless visibility as the ship's exterior cameras fed directly into her field of view.

To her, the perspective still felt surreal every time.

She ran through the startup sequence, listening to the stellarator hum to life beneath her. No vibration, no interference - just the quiet roar of thrust as the MPT system spooled up. The adrilator connected smoothly, a faint tingle at her temples as it synced with her neural patterns.

"Wells to Miyahira," came the voice of her race engineer through the headbrace interface. "You're clear for launch. Let's make these laps count."

"Copy that," Tokkyu said. "Let's see what this thing can do."

The RS8 lifted smoothly from the bay and shot forward into the frozen expanse of Bethea Speedway.

Three hours later, Tokkyu climbed out of the cockpit, legs shaky from sustained g-forces but smiling. The debrief was quick - data looked promising, a few tweaks needed on corner entry stability, but overall the stellarator system was performing exactly as projected. The team had maximized their allotted testing time. Five hundred laps across three days. Done.

Which left them with absolutely nothing to do for the next few weeks until the second testing window opened.

Tokkyu found Alano near the transport dock, scrolling through something on his visor.

"Hey," she said. "You doing anything tonight?"

He glanced up. "Not really. Why?"

"There's a bar in the city. Figured we could grab a drink. Celebrate surviving testing week without crashing into the mountain."

Alano raised an eyebrow. "Low wall for celebration, don't you think?"

"You in or not?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, sure. Could use a drink."

The bar was tucked into one of Adept's lower commercial districts - warm, dimly lit, and pleasantly loud. They claimed a corner booth and ordered. Tokkyu started with something light; Alano went straight for whiskey.

For a while, they avoided shop talk entirely. They discussed the latest drama in Erios politics - some scandal involving Zone 47's infrastructure contracts. Tokkyu complained about a holo-series she'd been watching that had jumped the shark in its third season. Alano recounted a story about his father getting into an argument with a track marshal back in 2792 over a dubious penalty call.

"Your dad sounds intense," Tokkyu said, leaning back in her seat.

"He was," Alano said. "Still is, honestly. Just... less so these days."

The conversation meandered. Drinks kept coming. Tokkyu, feeling confident after her second cocktail, decided a third was a great idea. Then a fourth.

By the time they stumbled out of the bar, Tokkyu was significantly less vertical than when they'd entered.

"I'm fine," she insisted, swaying slightly as Alano steadied her by the elbow.

"Sure you are."

"I am! I've *hic* had way more than this before..."

"Uh-huh." He guided her toward the hotel, half-supporting her weight. "Come on, let's get you back before you fall into a snowbank."

The walk back was a blur. Tokkyu vaguely remembered trying to argue that she could handle the cold now that she knew how the climate control worked. Alano didn't dignify that with a response.

By the time they reached her suite, she'd gone pale. Alano barely got her through the door before she made a beeline for the bathroom. He winced as he heard her retching, then sighed and set about cleaning up the small trail of mess she'd left in the entryway.

When she finally emerged, looking miserable and exhausted, he steered her toward the bed.

"Get some sleep," he said.

"'M sorry," she mumbled.

"Yeah, yeah. You're an idiot."

"Tha's mean."

"It's accurate." He pulled the blanket over her as she collapsed onto the mattress. "Do me a favour and drink some water when you wake up."

She was already half-asleep.

Alano stood there for a moment, shaking his head. Then he walked into the suite's other room, dropped onto the couch, and stared at the ceiling.

"Absolute moron," he thought.

Note: Tokkyu woke up to Alano eating breakfast delivered by room service. She spent the first few minutes of her morning profusely apologizing to him, but the conversation quickly devolved into the two arguing about the food for half-an-hour. Alano eventually left for his own room.