She stared deep into the matte green pits of the ship, standing before the open loading ramp. There was nothing in particular that caught her attention to divert her eyes away from the Terran she was once eager to see.
Kazia folded her arms, leaning against the extended struts as discussions about the upcoming shipment continued. Everything was accounted for, which brought her into proximity with Lucian.
“Not sure when exactly, but our pickup will arrive here with the fleet to drop off the cargo,” Gosha informed, standing atop a crate to elevate himself for the convenience of everyone’s neck muscles.
“Apparently, this client is constantly on the move, preferring to meet with us.” Torin-4 continued, having gone through with accepting the commission.
“What’s the destination?” Kazia asked, her eyes coming to land on the synth.
Lucian noticed her sudden avoidance and resolved not to stare. His latest friend had often stood close to him and would have touched him by now, but engaged with nothing. This emptiness washed over him, distracting an otherwise focused and emotionally stable man and leading him to concern himself with something other than work.
“It’s on a need-to-know basis,” Torin-4 stated, coldly in a way that made the question ridiculous coming from Kazia.
“Meaning,” Gosha cleared his throat, confirming better information. “The client will update us when arriving. Not even we know.”
Blue, vibrant eyes landed on the compact captain with concern. “That doesn’t seem ideal. What’s the cargo? Where’s the destination? Shouldn’t we know these things ahead of time?”
Kazia’s words came across to everyone, with a couple of nods. A Terran, a blonde-haired woman, stepped up to add to the information.
“Captain, at the very least, we should know the contents of this package.”
Kazia remembers her name, Rory. She didn’t remember her family name, but she did note her closeness with Lucian. The girl was a mechanic who held the ship together all over. She was pretty, but kept herself smeared in coolant, oil, and sometimes even electrical burns.
Rory wore a set of overalls made to be durable and utilitarian. It sported many pockets to keep tools at the ready, decorated with scorch marks and unmentionable liquids. Her skin was much lighter and fairer, with grey-blue eyes, and her hair fell to her lower back.
Kazia took a peek at her chest, eyeing her body with suspicion. She was small, nearly flat-chested, but held a grounded posture, despite her slim frame.
“I agree with Rory.” Lucian finally spoke up, following the situation. “I'd rather not bring something aboard that’s possibly hazardous to us or the ship.”
Torin-4 stepped forward, his arms at his sides, body displaying a coming challenge. “The pay will help us in the long run. Ship repair, essentials, and recent debt for used cargo.” He glanced at the Vul’Katahn with contempt. “And as long as we have our security, there shouldn’t be any problems.”
Gosha looked to Kazia. “This will be your moment, girl.”
Her ivory face changed from annoyance to compliance and respect. “Shall I jettison the cargo if it starts to glow red?”
The Captain stared at her for a beat, honestly considering it.
“We will see about that.” He shrugged, neither a yes nor a no. “For now, we have time to relax. I’ll call everyone once our client is in range of the planet. Dismissed.”
Kazia nearly moved with a practiced salute, but stopped herself. She nodded this time and moved along before a hand caught her arm. She eyes Lucian, who stayed after everyone else departed.
“Everything okay?”
His voice held genuine concern, something the Vul’Katahni warrior had come to appreciate. But she wanted to break away, to leave, not stay close.
“I just need time to myself.” She spoke the truth, remaining straightforward, a trait of hers that often came across as harsh.
She pulled away, snatching her arm back as she departed, leaving the Terran behind, and something else that made her feel unbearably lighter. The further she moved away, crossing vessels and gaps of water, the more her heart came to ache.
Her boots took her to the markets, where the smell of various foods and spices began to overtake her thoughts. Kazia’s stomach growled with a twist. Her lucra twitched once with intrigue, her hunger taking precedence when presented with a kabob holding three buttered fried rice balls layered over salted fish.
The seasoned taste peppered her tongue. The fish, juicy and succulent, melted in her mouth. Kazia’s body relaxed, the hitches in her life seemingly dissipated. Two of the fish rice balls had disappeared before she realized, leaving one she nearly devoured.
That dark face, carrying intense focus. Sharp golden eyes that softened once torn away from his work when she approached. Kazia frowned, taking a deep breath to exhale. She took a container from the food vendor to save it for later, before continuing her walk around the shops.
