As he left, he would hear her sit slowly on the sheets and a low, barely noticeable sob escaped her form as she laid down on the makeshift bed.
He looked back hesitantly, seeming quite unsure of himself. He continued, however, returning to his room.
The next morning, the ship was in full swing. Stephanie was down in the engine room, working on various parts. Anya was sitting in the window of the cargo bay, looking out across the dark galaxy. Trevor was absent, out on a scouting mission. Derek was in the library, reading with Bernadette on his shoulder.
Stephanie would hear footsteps behind her and a low voice she would recognize as Alexander. "I have a gear replacement." *** Basel approached her. "How are you doing today?" *** Amira's gentle voice cut across the silence. "What are you reading?"
She glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Hm? Oh, thank you." * * * She looked over at him, her brows furrowed. "Hello, Basel. I am alright. And yourself?" * * * He looked up in surprise, tilting his head. "Some of the Earth classics," he said, closing the book, his voice low. "But its language is... difficult."
He was quiet for a moment before moving past her to fix it wordlessly, a little uncomfortable. *** "I'm okay. Just seeing what you were up to." *** She sat down tentatively. "Can I see?"
She returned to work, appearing completely unphased. * * * "I do nothing nowadays," she said primly. She wore the standard black garb of the ship, her knees pulled up to her chest. "I only wait." * * * He looked at her curiously before offering the book to her. "Death is not easily escaped, try it who will; but every living soul among the children of men dwelling upon the earth goeth of necessity unto his destined place, where the body, fast in its narrow bed, sleepeth after feast."
She would hear him working, the sound of metal frequent. After a moment she would hear a sharp intake of air as one of his fingers got caught again. He placed the gear in its place before standing up, fidgeting with his finger away from her. *** He frowned, but gave a short nod, his hands behind his back as he adopted a professional nature. "May I draw a sample of your blood?" *** She paused, looking up at him. "My dad used to read me with story. It's Beowulf, right? I never really understood it.."
She frowned, pulling her head away from her work with one brow raised. "Are you alright?" * * * She squinted at him, tilting her head. "Again? No, Sir Basel, you cannot." * * * He laughed nervously, looking down at her. "Neither do I, apparently. It's very confusing."
He reached into his toolbag and pulled out a bandaid, moving past her again. "Yeah. I'll be fine. Thanks." *** "It's for research purposes," he said. "Are you afraid of needles?" *** She returned the book to him. "I've never been good with books."
"Did you lose a finger?" she asked, raising an eyebrow critically as she returned to her work. * * * "When they're being wielded by strangers on foreign ships? Yes, Sir Basel, I hesitate on that front." * * * He shrugged slightly, glancing down at Bernadette. "I never was either, but... well... lots of free time in orbit, you know? Plus, Bern likes it."
"Yeah. I'll just see Basel about it." *** He sighed. "Just Basel is fine. Or Tremont, if you really want." *** "Yeah.. That's a good point."
She squinted at his back, coming over to him. “Let me see.” *** She laughed sharply. “We are not on that level of acquaintanceship,” she replied. *** “What are you doing in here?”
He turned to her. His finger was cut, but he had a bandaid in his other hand. "It's okay. I'm used to it." *** He was quiet for a moment, watching her for a moment before sighing and turning. "Very well. Have a good day." *** She paused, hesitating. "I'm.. not sure. I suppose I was looking for something to do."
