It’s a relief to be back on solid ground, even if I don’t know where that is. Some rough outpost, on the farthest edge of the Lupus system. Very rough, by the looks of it. Dressed and armed again, the razor tucked into a front pocket. I don’t see a rifle being much use here, so it’s disassembled, in the bag, with everything else.
It’s interesting to watch the change come over you as we land. I’m reminded of sitting, on a rooftop, or outside of a brothel, watching you on New Mecca, before any of this began. You may not have harmed anyone, while I watched you, but I think that part of that is because no one would dare.
Your face becomes cruel and ruthless again. Your body, seeming to grow larger, becomes more threatening, until an air of menace swirls around you.Your eyes, hidden behind dark welders goggles, unreadable, implacable. What could be described as grace, here, with me, becomes stealth, and animal cunning, now, on the ground. Seems we both have our inner beasts.
No longer naked and soft, you are reserved and cool. There are no accidental movements. Your every action a matter of discipline and precision. Your face is unreadable, your hair pulled back, not displaying even the slightest softness or emotion. Your face, as I watched you on that rooftop, the first time I saw you. Brutal and ruthless, in the way only a woman could be. Behind your eyes, the beast in you, tightly controlled, but I know it could flick out, at a moments notice. You’re still beautiful.
Trading this ship in for one with more firepower isn’t going to be a problem here. It’s an outpost for smugglers, thieves, and mercs. Nobody is going to ask questions about a payment in cash.
I hate leaving you to stand by the ship, but, until keys switch hands, it’s better to have someone stay here. I don’t have much to worry about. This is a rough place, and still no one approaches you. That I’m dangerous is obvious. You’re a whole other matter. Your threat is more subtle, unknowable.
The hangar is a large open affair. Hangar may be too dignified a word. A filth ridden river runs down one side. A dirty, ill dressed man emerges from a shack, by the side, as you approach.
A study in intimidation, as you slowly encroach into his comfort space. He’s not a small man, either, and yet he seems to wilt before you, until he ends up sliding out from around you, into the office, in order to do what you have told him to do. He comes back out with keys, and hands them to you, gingerly, as though expecting at any moment you’ll rip his arm out of his socket without thought.
Watch as you stride back towards me, the cowed man, behind you, struggling to keep up.
“Wait.”.…A whisper in my ear, close enough to touch, your hand on my hip.
Your revolting shadow stops to leer at me, I look at him, much as you might look at some grotesque insect that has crawled out of your salad. I smile. It never reaches my eyes. I do believe he saw something he didn’t like, as he quickly looks away, turning to hurry towards you, only to find you looking down at him. You had moved up to him without a sound, standing over him.
“Are you finished.”
I have noticed that you rarely ask questions directly. You make statements, and people, if they are smart, will agree, as though it were unthinkable to think anything else.
You continue moving further down towards the open mouth of the hangar, towards a ship a little larger than this one. I scan everything in the area, watching to see who is watching you, see who may be slipping away, see where the danger might come from next.
I catch your eye. It appears the deal is done, and we have another ship.