|30|

Aboard The Duke, all was quiet. Roun picked at his teeth, feeling a growl in his belly and wondering if anyone would assist him with fare. His thoughts went from food to Dahnna, Dahnna to the fetus, fetus to Cuillean and a family alleged to be on Kahje, and from there to The Duke and its occupants—Feron, Aaron, and Laura. He wondered what Thane was up to. He wondered what Hiamata was doing in her haira'lar. His imaginings traveled.

Sitting up, he left the bunk Aaron had set for him. He was hungry.

"Any food around here?"

"What's that—oh, check the mess," Aaron put aside a headset and mic as Roun ambled into the cockpit.

"I think I can find it," he ducked under the doorframe and returned to the lounge. Aaron waited until he saw the drell poking through cabinets on a secondary screen he'd readjusted after Feron had turned it down.

"That was close," he replaced the headset and began speaking again through the mic. "You there?"

"Yes, Aaron."

"That drell I mentioned is wandering The Duke."

"A problem?"

"No…drunk last night, but he stayed out of trouble. Laura found him in the showers."

"Has she agreed?"

"Not yet, I'm working on her—she's got a stick up her ass about anything off charter."

"Have you tried subduing her?"

"Not my first choice. Won't be my last. I'd prefer not to harm her."

"You're going to have to decide, Aaron…I'm not kidding around."

"We still have time, don't we?"

"The calendar so dictates, but you realize the situation is fluid."

The freeze-dry dropped with an unappetizing fizz into water, Roun sitting himself on the chair to observe the ration bloom…"Space food."

"It's not as bad as it appears."

"I'm sorry…I've had worse on a galienna. Of course, I haven't tasted anything yet…from my samples so far." Gesticulating to a bountiful cornucopia of leftover wrappers strewn among crumbs, Roun frowned. "I haven't tasted anything."

Turning one wrap over to examine the label, Laura smirked, "…You're eating ingredients…these need to be combined with others to make something with taste."

"Educate me."

"Where did you find this one."

"Not far from the border…walking alone."

"Put him with the others."

"I don't deserve this treatment," the prisoner said, "….I stayed clear of the border marks to avoid this situation entirely!"

"He was armed with this," the burrell indicated the rifle upheld by his second, "…It was not discharged, but carries ammo."

"That's for protection—the area is filled with those dogs!"

"Dogs?" Arching a copper-brown eyeridge, Pilar lowered two indexes from his pleat of lips, "….You must be referring to the wyrrtuns. I empathize with your need to carry a weapon, zhienne being susceptible to the venom of most species in this land, but to shoot and kill a wyrrtun is an act of criminality—humans refer to this as poaching."

"I would only shoot in self-defense…the unfortunate dilemma has not presented."

"The cartridge is full?"

"Full, sered."

Pilar brought his countenance lower—seeing eye to angled eye with the human. "Why are you on Rakhana."

Roun laughed, "Cake?"

"It will be." Laura poked her nose forward and adjusted the pan of batter inside the insta-oven.

"When?"

"Give it a minute or two—batter's got to cook through and it'll rise."

"And that slop will be edible?"

"Yes…not like what you were eating."

"I hope it actually carries a taste."

"Try it," she lifted a spatula to his mouth—Roun's tongue flicked out.

"Kala!"

"Good, hmm?"

"It's almost as good as durril."

"What?"

"A sweet mineral…Maybe I'll tell you about it—can I try some more?" She offered him the spatula and Roun closed his mouth over it, sucking the sticky off. "Mmmm….decadent."

"You never have chocolate before?"

"Chocolate…it even sounds good."

"Feron loves it—I make it for him and Aaron, but Aaron's not really a sweet tooth—"

"Sweet tooth?" Roun said the words again. "What is sweet tooth?"

"You know, someone who enjoys sugars."

"Sugars….is that what makes the chocolate?"

"No, that's cacao, but sugar's added—" the insta-oven beeped; Laura used a clip-tong to remove the pan once the door cover fell wide. "Here, it's warm—you can eat it once I've separated the pan."

"I like this," Roun popped a corner into his mouth, "….Enemies to friends….cooking together…what other surprises I wonder."

"You forgot the towel."

"I certainly didn't forget the towel….I'm traumatized for the rest of my mindful days."

"Just skin, is all."

She nibbled an edge.

"How's your relationship with Feron."

"Fine."

"Convincing….you almost had me."

"I need to find someone in my own species—who's not Aaron."

"You sound disappointed." Another square consumed, his fingers went for the next corner morsel.

"Someone likes the corners."

"You like corners, too, I can see," he broke it halfwise, "…split this one."

"No—I'm full."

"Lies…you're being too generous. Open, or I'll eat all of it."

"Roun—"

"Laura," he popped it into her mouth. "See—you're still hungry." He pulled the pan closer to him. "Now I'll have to confiscate these for my selfish interests—"

"I thought I was too generous."

Roun chuckled. "You're fun."