She rolled over onto her side, marking the faint starlight that fell on the floor from a small porthole above her head. The floor around where she lay was cold, but had warmed a bit under where she rested. Truth be told it was the best floor she had slept on in a long time. Not that she was doing much sleeping. Her body was still tensed, more out of habit than anything, and the chains manacled to her wrists made it difficult to relax. Her skin tingled, still slightly pink from the vigorous scrubbing it had under gone earlier that day. But she had to admit that it felt good to be clean. The dirt had been reluctant to come off, but the doctor had taken rough cloth and a burning soap to her skin, working off the traces of filth that covered her. She'd been stripped clean of her dress, laid bare in the cell, still shaking while the doctor examined her, scrubbed the dirt from her skin, and gave her new clothes to wear.

She touched her hair, shorn to her shoulders now to get rid of the unmanageable mess of tangles that it had become. The doctor had patiently worked it through until he'd managed to get the knots out of what remained. It had been a long time since she'd been this clean. Longer than she was able to remember.

But that wasn't important now. She turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling and letting her mind wander. While this wasn't the greatest of accommodations, it sure beat others that she had been used to. And for some reason she felt a small sense of safety. Even though she was being treated like a prisoner, she was a secure one.

The ship was sailing closer than normal to a star, sending the crew into a string of almost unbearably hot days. Jim had been working through noon on the main circuit board with the chief electrical engineer, attempting to bring the smaller boards back online after shorting out due to the heat. It had taken them hours, and it wasn't until well into the afternoon that they had success. This wasn't the first time that he had worked with the engineers. He'd been shadowing the chief in hopes that he would be assigned as an apprentice for his next term of service. The years he'd spent on his own solar surfer and other projects were serving him well as he was showing a pronounced aptitude for the work.

He was headed towards the washroom where he could clean up when he passed the hatch to the lower decks and a cacophony of noise met his ears. He looked below, only to find a group of fellow spacers down around the last cell at the end of the corridor. He felt the anger surge in him again, and he vaulted down the stairs towards the group of men.

"Hey, Hawkins!" one of the men said with a smile when he saw Jim approaching. "Come see the mystery girl!" Jim threw himself against the man and pushed him against the wall.

"Leave her alone," he said in an even voice. The man pushed back against Jim.

"Cool it, man. We were just having some fun."

"Go find your fun some where else. Leave her alone." Jim replied, easing his hold on man against the wall. They stared at each other for a minute, the tension in the air palpable. Finally the other man backed off, walking slowly backwards down the corridor. The rest of his mates followed, leaving Jim alone.

The girl in the cell was much the same as she had been the last time Jim had seen her. She was still backed into the corner, her knees drawn up against her chest, but she wasn't even looking at Jim. She was looking away, completely ignoring not only Jim but anyone else who might have been standing there.

"Hey," Jim said, "I'm sorry about that. They can be jerks sometimes."

"You didn't have to do that," she said, still not looking at him.

"Well, you know…" He sat down and leaned against the wall again. "You cut your hair. It looks nice." She looked at him then.

"Don't lie."

"I'm not lying." Keep her talking, Jim thought to himself.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"To Crescentia." Honesty was the best policy.

"Why." Being direct was also the best policy.

"You attacked me."

There was no automatic retort. She couldn't deny the truth in the statement, the bluntness with which he said it. She locked eyes with him.

"I had good reason." She said quietly.

"And what reason was that?"

"I can't tell you."

A dead end. If Jim hadn't known better he would have gotten very frustrated at this point. "Well seems like you can't tell us a lot of things." The two were at a stalemate again. But Jim decided to be persistent.

"So who cut your hair anyways?"

"The doctor. It was the only way he could get the tangles out."

"Ah…." The silence stretched out between them, turning into minutes. "Well I guess I'd better get going. They'll probably be needing me up top." He made to get up and go but she moved quickly over to the bars of the cell, wrapping her fingers around them and pleading with her eyes.

"Don't go," she said, desperation in her voice. "Please." Pressed against the bars Jim could see more fully the lines of her face and the crystalline color of her eyes. They were a vivid green, and they seemed to magnify the little bits of light that were able to penetrate them. While before he had seen only burning emotion in them, now he saw only their depth and her need for company.

"All right," he said, settling back onto the floor, watching her relax a bit when she knew that he was going to stay.