Merlo shifted in her seat, seeming uncomfortable and still a little sheepish nonetheless. “Um, I’m glad.” Now that her anger had fled the scene, it seemed to have taken her articulation with it. Sirrah was amused and interested; something about Merlo seemed out of place, almost as if it were Merlo herself who felt like she didn’t belong here, and whose unconscious actions reinforced it. Sirrah couldn’t quite put her finger on what was out of place though. Not yet.
Sirrah finished the last of her small cup of tea, set it down gently and reached across the decorated table to again nudge the other one toward Merlo in an offering. “If you’d like, I could show you some of the records of 286’s history, of what we know about her.”
Merlo was leaning forward towards the tea as if were a foreign object and blinked in surprise. “You can do that? It’s not like, a breach of her privacy, or anything?” Sirrah could see that the pilot’s suspicion was prone to finding footholds with which to return; Merlo obviously still didn’t quite trust or understand her intentions.
Sirrah responded with a light, charming laugh. “Of course not. The entirety of what I would share is information freely accessible to the Altairan public, as many such records are. Nothing more. I simply think it might help you to understand her better, if you like.”
Merlo nodded to her, lifting the teacup to her nose with both hands and sniffing it doubtfully. “Um, yeah. I’d like that. Thanks.”
11.1- Merlo
After leaving Sirrah’s quarters, Merlo found herself in front of the Captain’s room before she halted, pulling up short of tapping the door panel. With everything she’d found out today, she felt torn, broiling internally with a dilemma. Prisoner 286 was unpredictable, violent, and a possible danger to those around her. Her well-honed sense of duty compelled her to go to Branwen and advise her that there was an unstable criminal on board her vessel.
Torn by indecision, she backed off, moving instead towards the kitchen. On the other hand, she considered, 286 seemed under control. Both her own control, and Sirrah’s. It had been the Kala’s opinion that 286 wasn’t a danger to the crew, or as she had stated, she would never have brought her aboard the Destiny.
The “Kala” was a professional, right? 286 didn’t even seem that dangerous, despite all the things Merlo had just read. Just because someone was capable of a rather surprising amount of devastation, it didn’t mean she was going to do anything here or now. Most of the incidents on the public record were the Prisoner’s reactions to capture attempts, though Sirrah assured her that not all of them were.
When it came down to it, she liked 286, despite everything that she knew should reasonably warn her off of those feelings. She didn’t want her to be kicked off of the ship, and now Merlo was pretty sure any attempt to do so would go badly, anyway. Thus, she was torn.
As Merlo reached the empty kitchen, she reconsidered. Maybe she shouldn’t say anything right now. She pulled open the refrigeration unit and hauled out the breads, meats, cheeses, and everything she needed. Perhaps telling the Captain now would just cause more trouble than telling Branwen after they made port. But then, would her Captain be mad at her for concealing the information? Which course of action was actually safer for the crew, the Captain, and even for 286’s own wellbeing?
Merlo sighed in frustration. Her head was starting to hurt; maybe food would help, if anything would. She started putting a nice, big sandwich together, and, after a moment’s thought, made an extra one for Prisoner 286.
11.2- Mr. Leonard
Mr. Leonard cautiously peeked out into the hallway, just barely cracking the heavy, protective metal door to the engine room. He’d already checked the ship’s internal sensors, and there was no sign of the rather frightening new woman about in the public areas of the ship, but he knew that could change at any moment. That was the scary part, really; he didn’t want to be caught in the hall if she happened to come out of Sirrah’s quarters.
The fact that he couldn’t be sure and that the situation might change at any moment from a safe one into an uncomfortable one was unnerving. Regardless, he needed food, and he had been invited to watch a holovid with Zimi again, so he needed to leave the engine room. He just also needed to be careful about it, and be quick.
Dealing with passengers was not his forte, but for the most part, he managed. The problem was that this particular passenger truly unnerved him, far more than was typical. He wasn’t just worried for himself; he was also worried Prisoner 286 might be a danger to the rest of the crew. He knew who she was, of course; it wasn’t hard to find a likeness of Prisoner 286 plastered across a news feed from years back if you looked for it. She was pretty recognizable, after all. He just didn’t know why she was on the Destiny.
He knew she was here with Sirrah, and that she wasn’t currently a fugitive; he’d double and triple checked to make sure. Sirrah also didn’t seem to be her hostage. His confusion mostly lay in the Captain’s acceptance of her presence; 286 wasn’t remotely the type of person he felt Captain Branwen would normally allow on board. But he also trusted the Captain’s judgment. If she had a good reason for allowing the dangerous criminal on board, surely she was safe enough to be around for now? He also didn’t feel it was his place to question the Captain; the very thought of it added another layer of anxiety.
In the end, there really wasn’t anything for him to do unless he was far more certain of the level of threat she represented. He sighed. Finally creeping down the hall and peering into the kitchen, he almost startled upon realizing it was indeed occupied, but by one Kala Sirrah Nazai.
She looked up, no doubt having heard the squeak he made. She gave him what seemed a kind, reassuring smile, full of warmth. It actually made him feel a bit better, and he suddenly felt a bit ridiculous skulking by the door. It wasn’t very polite of him, after all.
Mr. Leonard straightened and swallowed down some of his nervousness. He stepped boldly into the room, attempting to return a smile in full force. “Good evening, Kala Sirrah. I hope I’m not intruding.”
She paused in making her food, a tasteful looking salad full of delightfully fresh ingredients she’d brought along with her from Altair, and gave him a light, amused laugh. “I was under the impression that the kitchen was a common space, so intrude away.”
He nodded back at her, feeling a little embarrassed and trying his best to work past it. He went to the fridge and started preparing some extra food. He hadn’t eaten for a little bit longer than he normally would. Maybe something to take to Miss Zimi as well? She might like that. Oh, and definitely more to take to his room for later. That was one of the main reasons he’d ventured out in the first place.
“Is everything all right?” Suddenly appearing beside him, Sirrah nearly startled him with the gentle question.
“Oh, yes, of course. Thank you.” He attempted to give her a reassuring smile. He thought it was actually a very happy occurrence that there was a Kala on board. He wished, now that the opportunity was upon him, that he could initiate an in-depth conversation with her. One of the reasons he was in space was to see new things, discover new experiences, and explore the clusters.
Overall, he didn’t feel he was very good at it yet.
To his surprise, she took the door to the refrigeration cabinet from him and held it open for him, still smiling graciously and genially. “Mr. Leonard, wasn’t it?”
“Um, yes. Yes, ma’am. Or Kala. Kala is proper, isn’t it?” He fidgeted, and decided to neatly hide it by delving into the cooling cabinet.
She laughed, a rich, soft sound blissfully free of mockery. “You may simply call me Sirrah, if you wish.”
He looked back at her, craning his neck a bit from where he’d crammed himself into cold storage. “Oh! Of course. Thank you, Miss Sirrah. I will certainly attempt to do that.” The conversation trailed off as he gathered ingredients and began mass food preparation. He really enjoyed crafting things and working with his hands, especially when making things for others to enjoy.
&n
bsp; After a minute or so, he noticed Sirrah was still standing nearby, watching him construct meals. His movements faltered accordingly, losing their smooth precision and becoming hesitant and unsteady. “Is there something you need, Miss Sirrah? If there is, I would be happy to assist you. And just let me know if I’m in your way in some manner.” He smiled back at her.
“No, I’m quite all right.” She seemed as if she were considering something, and he knew that if he could see that, then she most likely wanted him too. “You don’t have to be afraid of her, you know.”
The accuracy of her observation startled him; he fumbled a bread knife into the sink with a loud clatter and winced. “I’m sorry?”
She directed a warm, soft smile toward him.”Prisoner 286. My companion. She won’t hurt you.”
He sighed, retrieving the knife and beginning to clean it. At least he hadn’t cut himself. That would have been rather awkward. “Is it so obvious, Miss Sirrah?”
“Perhaps to a member of the Kalaset, such as myself.” She drifted closer once again, but not quite close enough to make him any less comfortable. She leaned the small of her petite back against the counter and played her hands over a tiny lace fan as she continued. “We are trained to see such things where others cannot, after all.”
Mr. Leonard knew that, of course, but being reminded of how easily she might could see through his emotions and everything did little to soothe him overall. “My apologies, Miss Sirrah. I don’t wish to be a nuisance on your trip, after all.”
This time she did reach out and put a calming, gentle hand on the sleeve of his indigo dress shirt. He even managed not to pull away, though he did stare down anxiously at it for a moment. “If anyone should apologize, it is I, for bringing someone into your home that frightens you.” She paused, looking into his eyes. “Please believe that it was never my intention to disturb the peace of your ship.”
“Of course, Miss Sirrah. I understand.” Blaming her had never really occurred to him.
She seemed to study him for a moment, and he attempted to return his attention to creating a few meals until she was done. “Well, Mr. Leonard, allow me to reassure you that she won’t do you any harm. She may be a criminal, and she may have a frightening reputation, but while she is with me, I am responsible for her actions. I would not have brought her here were I not certain of her being safe to be around. I would simply ask you to trust me, if you can.” She said it gently, but with the poise and certainty of a Kala, which reinforced her request subtly.
“I… I see, Miss Sirrah.” A slight sigh slipped out before he could stifle it. “I will attempt to reassess the situation and be calmer about it, but I cannot assure you that I won't continue to avoid her. Her physical presence is… intense, and trying for me. Especially with the way she treats Miss Zimi. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right, I wouldn’t suggest for you to... “ She blinked at him. “What do you mean by how she treats Zimi?”
He hesitated, but then jumped on the opportunity to tell someone about the issue who could hopefully help solve it. Hopefully. “She, well, I mean… She kind of bullies her.” He finally forced the statement out successfully with Sirrah’s slight gesture of encouragement.
Sirrah sighed heavily at the explanation, running fingertips lightly over her forehead in a gesture of apparent mild frustration. “Oh, dear. Of course she is. I’ll need to talk about it, then, and apologize to Zimi as well.”
He nodded, almost done with the food; he’d helped Zimi pre-cook quite a few pounds of meat days ago. Now he was just neatening it up and putting some meals together. “She would probably like that.” He blinked, stopping suddenly. “I mean, the help, of course. Not the apology. Well, she might like it, but I don’t want to suggest that you should have to… But of course you can if you want, and….” He took a deep breath, facing the Kala and looking helpless to either make his point or continue.
Fortunately, she merely seemed amused, hiding the bulk of a pleasant smile behind the decorative lace fan. “Mr. Leonard, it’s quite all right. Could I trouble you to arrange for her to meet with me?”
“Of course. If you like, I’m about to go see her right now… I would be happy to convey the gist of your message, and tell her you wish to speak with her. I know Miss Zimi will be pleased.” He flashed her a hopeful, helpful smile.
She seemed to consider a moment, then nodded to him. “Thank you. If she has time tomorrow, she could stop by my room for lunch.”
Thinking about it, Mr. Leonard’s face split in a happy grin. Zimi would love the invitation. “She’ll like that. I mean, you’re a Kala, and, um, I know that Miss Zimi would simply be thrilled to have the chance to actually, well, you know, speak with you. Even a little.” Zimi had confided her excitement at the presence of a Kala on board the very first day, as excited as any young woman would be by the prospect of meeting one.
Sirrah smiled and nodded again, and he returned to his foodcraft before he could embarrass himself more thoroughly. Pleased with himself for having made it successfully through the conversation, he devoted himself to the task and quickly crafted a variety of what he hoped were tasty and appealing foods, cooking and warming where he needed to.
Whipped kronats were topped with light cheeses and meat crumbles, then packaged and set beside a few slivers of pan-seared meat. He opened a few cans of other meat, but simply couldn’t just dump them onto the plate and leave them alone; that simply wouldn’t do. He flash-seared them as well and seasoned them with a bare pinch of Elysian seasonings.
There was less bread left in storage than he’d expected, so he spilt a couple of pieces into three and toasted them, dipping and coating them in ribbons of crystallized Nihar eggs from Mizar as he did so. Packaging the bulk of it up, he felt something was missing, so he cut a couple of thin slices of Urzran mushroom steak, knowing that, once exposed to light, that the sliced fungi would “cook” themselves before he made it Zimi’s room.
“You’re rather good at that.” To his credit, he didn’t jump this time, partially because she said it quietly and gently, taking a light breath ahead of speaking as if to warn him.
He hadn’t realized she had been watching him, though. “Um, yes! Thank you, Miss Sirrah.” He briefly reflected on his inability to accept a compliment properly.
“I’m impressed. I understand you’re also quite the engineer.”
Her scrutiny of his abilities made him unsurprisingly nervous, and he strained not to fidget uselessly instead of gathering the dinnerware he needed. “I… I suppose so. I don’t want to inflate my own ego or abilities. I suppose my skills suffice, however.”
Sirrah helpfully slid some utensils, then some wrapping material toward him. “It’s not bragging to be honest with your ability. Though, humility is an admirable trait as well. How did you come by your skills, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Um, thank you again, Miss Sirrah. I don’t believe it’s really anything that impressive or remarkable, of course…” He began to neatly stack sealed dishes and bowls, grabbing the handful of reusable napkins Sirrah held out for him as he did so. “I, well…” He took a deep breath to steady himself, and wondered if he were blushing. “I used to take care of several younger children. So, cooking ability was somewhat mandatory. Though, I honestly believe Miss Zimi is the better cook on board.”
With everything precariously in hand, he turned to face Sirrah. Well, mostly. “As for my mechanical expertise? I kind of just picked it up. And studied the rest. I guess you could say I have a natural aptitude for it.”
Seeming to note his struggle with the now precarious stack of food, Sirrah emptied a nearby, basket-like container and offered it to him helpfully. “I’m impressed nonetheless. The Destiny’s crew does seem rather remarkable overall. I find it very interesting. Take Merlo, for example. Her public piloting records are nothing shy of prodigious.”
Mr. Leonard brightened, accepting Sirrah’s kindly offered assistance and piling the meals into the rounded basket as she
held it for him. He took the basket from Sirrah with a bright smile and a little bow. He continued the conversation with much greater ease as he shifted his burden to a more reasonable method of conveyance.
“Oh, yes. Miss Merlo is rather impressive.” It was much easier to talk about Merlo’s talents than his own. “We’ve worked together quite a bit, of course, and I’ve never seen a pilot as skilled as she is.” He furrowed his brow for a moment. “Not that I’ve met many pilots in person. But really, she is very good. She can calculate and respond to slipjumps and changes in the slipstreams sometimes before a computer can even register them. It’s really very impressive. I’m happy to have the chance to work with her so often.”
He shifted with mild unease from foot to foot, and glanced down in embarrassment as he saw Kala Sirrah notice. He couldn’t help it, though; despite the conversation going well, his anxiety was building and he was starting to feel it was time to go.
Fortunately, she apparently decided not to delay him any further, so he didn’t have to fumble for an appropriate way to excuse himself. “I should probably get back to preparing my own lunch,” she smiled at him again as she stepped lightly to the cooling unit. “It was nice talking to you, Mr. Leonard.”
“Of course. And you as well, Miss Sirrah.” He took the opportunity and literally bowed out of the conversation. Finding himself back in the Destiny’s main corridor, he struggled with 286-based anxiety once again, but decided to ignore it as best he could and simply hurried on to Zimi’s room. As the door panel chimed at his presence, he shifted the basket and waited as she slid the door open and stood there, smiling at him.
“You’re late, Mister Leonard.” She put her hands on her hips in a playfully reproachful manner and gave him a similarly playful expression. He thought she was rather cute in her simple grey shirt and tan, mid-thigh shorts.
“I’m sorry, Miss Zimi.” The return smile came easily to his face as he looked at her. Her happy attitude was simply infectious, and pleasantly so. “May I come in? I brought us some food for the evening.” As she let him pass and closed the door behind him, he resolved to attempt to let his anxiety go and enjoy the evening. He had other things to do later, and much he could worry himself over later. But for now, perhaps he could just let all of it go and enjoy the company of a good friend.
Destiny Abounds (Starlight Saga Book 1) Page 22
