It might be a relief that someone had come to him not asking for him to shoot something up—though diplomatic speak was not his strong suit, he reminded himself in a Kirk tone.
“If you would consent to consider it, I think your arrival could be a welcome catalyst.”
Catalysts could be catastrophic, he thought grimly, but still, there was that longing. He hesitated. “I am in charge of—“
You have considerable leave owed you, General.
Yeah, that was a Bangle headache starting, right on schedule.
When the general picked a team, he didn’t play around. Naxe’s gaze went up and then up some more, as she tried to wrap her brain around Tim.
The name felt too short, it was such an understatement for such a large, robotic being. She’d heard stories around the docks and read books about cybernetic humans, but she’d not had experience with one before now. At least, her thoughts faltered for a moment, as something teased at the edge of memory. But as soon as she tried to extract it, it was gone. These phantom feelings were part of the wrong she felt about the company, but she did not, she could not voice them even to Blooban. She needed others to trust her, not believe she was crazy.
So she tried to keep her expression calm as she studied Tim. There were elements of him that looked human, or humanoid. He had a head, arms, legs, a torso…he was so huge, he deserved a longer and more intimidating name. And the line of unblinking red where eyes should be was unsettling, if not downright disturbing.
His outer skin was dark and appeared to absorb the surrounding light, rather than reflect it. The thickened nature of his arms, torso, and legs seemed to indicate weaponry that could be deployed as needed. But he didn’t need them. His intimidation factor was considerable—though somewhat lessened by several duffles clutched in metal hands, one of them a very feminine pink. For some reason, she liked the contrast and the puzzle, though she thought she knew the answer to the puzzle.
Naxe’s attention to the woman standing next to him, who she suspected was the owner of the pink duffle.
Riina Katala, the general had called her, when he introduced her. He gave no reason for choosing someone who was such stark contrast to Tim. Small where he was large, so where he wasn’t. Riina was also very beautiful, which might be reason enough for her presence. This venture was, Bangle had intimated, the General’s vacation, which when translated meant a rest, relaxation. There were women aboard their ships who served such a purpose, but this woman’s presence bothered her for some reason. She caused an ache in Naxe’s chest so that it took effort to be polite, and she’d turned away as soon as she could.
Her gaze drifted to Tim once more, then she glanced down at Blooban. If Blooban was impressed, he didn’t show it, but then he never did. He was the calm center around which all her uncertainties swirled. If she hadn’t met him, she was not sure where she’d be right now. Certainly not here. He’d been a catalyst in her story.
She allowed herself to glance at the general with what she hoped was casual interest. It was not reasonable that he stole her breath from her chest and sent a pleasurable wave of heat through other places. It was a mere trick of genetics that made his mouth draw her attention, or that she both longed to meet and avoid his piercing eyes. He was not so tall as Tim yet he managed to be the leader of their team. Instead of his uniform, he wore casual, but well-fitting pants and shirt. He carried a jacket folded over one arm. His crisp aspect was a distinct contrast to how he’d looked when she’d invaded his quarters—something she had not intended. How could she know it was night on Kikk? But…the memory of how he’d looked just wakened from sleep did things to her insides, too.
Blooban gave a croak that was loud enough for her to realize she’d been distracted. She gave a slight jerk and only then noticed they’d been joined by a young man in uniform pulling a cart piled with cases in a variety of sizes. He gave her a shy smile. She returned it with reserve. Was he coming with them? He would put them over their available number of cabins. This was a complication she’d not foreseen. She could sleep on the bridge, but she hadn’t had time to sanitize and move her few belongings into storage.
Blooban hopped next to her as they continued toward the hanger bay doors, the slap of his appendages against the stone floor echoing so loud they drowned out other sounds. On the other side of the doors, her ship waited, or so she hoped. One thing Naxe had learned from being of Scoyfol was to not expect anything, though there had been less of the unexpected since she met Blooban. Even on this venture, she’d not hoped for this consequential of an outcome. But getting shot or detained for impertinence seemed preferable to the stifling stagnation inside the company. It choked her when she was there and filled her with a longing to escape and never return. Even to herself she couldn’t explain why she didn’t stop—other than a complicated sense of duty that left her straining at her leash.
The bay doors slid back exposing the Vycorth. It was not a pleasing sight. Indeed, each time she saw it from a distance, rather than approaching it via the docking tunnel, she was amazed it still flew. It was the proper shape for a ship, of course, so that it could enter and exit atmosphere without too much friction. It was a pity its surface had multiple colors showing where older paint was exposed, and there was also damage from meteors and some weapons fire. One couldn’t always avoid trouble. It made no sense to spend effort on the exterior, though now she wished she’d made more effort. But, she reminded herself, it was safer not to draw attention or look valuable while out in the space lanes. It looked, she admitted somewhat wryly, like she felt. Worn, a bit exhausted, but with some fight left in there where it couldn’t be seen.
There was a long silence and she slanted a glance downward once again. Blooban resumed his hop toward the ship and after a short hesitation, Naxe followed him. The general would either come with her or not. With some relief, she heard the sound of footsteps and glanced back.
The general raised one brow, his expression complicated. He tipped his head to one side and said, “I suppose there’s a lot under the hood.”
Naxe did not know what this meant, though she did appreciate his neutral tone.
“I’m guessing all the power is where you need it,” he explained, waving a hand vaguely. “Where it can’t be seen.”
“Yes,” she said, pleased he was able to look past the surface. “The Vycorth maneuvers well and is very fast.” Or she and Blooban would be very dead.
He walked up and traced an area of battle damage. “Yes.”
He was silent for so long, Naxe’s heart began to pound. Had he changed his mind? She’d already explained why they couldn’t travel in one of the general’s ships, that no ship but hers could locate the company. She’d been frustrated by her inability to explain why, but for some reason, the general had accepted this. His people had been most unhappy. It had taken effort to remain calm as they presented their opposing arguments. They’d only left the aura of unhappy behind when they’d transported to this outpost.
The general stirred and then glanced back at Tim. “Will you fit?”
“Yes.”
Naxe saw no mouth move, though a single word barely gave her time to see anything. It seemed Tim was not only large, but cryptic. But was it reasonable to expect dialog from a robot?