The passengers got settled into their cabins. Eli took the ship into space and navigated to the hyperspace lane. From there, the simple autopilot program would take them down the lane.
Although the view was great, the ship’s little galley was too small for so many people, especially when some of them were rather big. So, he had them pick out what they wanted, and he prepared it himself. Azai, the woman in the encounter suit, was able to eat most of the same foods as him. So, he fixed them a meal which she suggested, something that looked like little lumps of orange clay.
Gami made her own food. She arrived in the kitchen wearing a light, lose fitting robe made of a soft, white colored material. Her hair was down, resting on her shoulders. Her garment was slightly sheer. He could see the outline of her pale nipples and the blurred shapes where she had tattoos or cybernetic enhancements.
They all gathered in the cargo hold, where a table and chairs had been set up. There they ate and drank and talked and laughed. The lumps of orange clay tasted like a soft pretzel. Azai opened her mask in quick bursts, popping one of the pieces into her mouth and closing the mask up again. Eli caught glimpses of bright pink skin and eyes that glowed white.
They finished their meals, praising the chef and bringing out liquids and other substances, each according to what their species was affected by. As with his food, Thracia dipped a few of its finger-shaped tendrils into a bowl and absorbed the liquid.
Babur the monk excused himself, saying that his order forbade the imbibing of intoxicants. He would retire to his room to read from scripture before bed.
Stolen story; please report.
Eli put on music, a series of catchy albums from a pop band that were, strangely, members of a warrior race. He believed that this fact greatly enhanced the music.
Gami was talking with Lukas. They were close enough and spoke in low enough tones that they were separate from the rest of the party.
Skant, the big, grey furred being was sitting beside the brown furred female. Eli had noticed that they had slowly been moving closer and closer as the evening went on.
“What about you, Eibel, are you on vacation?” Skant asked.
“I’m afraid not. I’m on a business trip. Lahnarr Shipwrights is thinking about opening up a new facility.”
“Really,” Ka’darka said, slurring his words more than a bit, “I’m actually a financial officer for Quality Shipyards.”
Eibel’s expression soured, “Is that a fact?”
“Yes, but I’m thinking about changing my career,” he answered, a bit of fear had crept into his eyes.
Thracia hastily changed the subject, “What do you think about starship data systems? The ban on AI, while necessary, is a big hindrance. Tech has advanced so slowly for the past few thousand years, but I think that we are on the verge of a breakthrough!”
Sateen, the one with the blade tipped arms, was drinking and smoking. Between puffs and sips, she took little jabs at the spindly computer programmer. He was oblivious to this. She finally got frustrated and went to her cabin.
The evening rolled on. Laughter filled the bay. Gami and Eli amused the others when they got into a less than serious disagreement about how many times they had saved each other’s lives. This was contrasted with how many times they had tried to kill each other.
It started to get late, at least by the standard of the passengers. Skant and Eibel left together. Eli wondered why Azai felt that she needed to help him get to his room. He wasn’t that drunk. He only stumbled a few times and didn’t have too much trouble getting up the ladder. She helped him open the door, locked it behind her. Eli tried to help her out of the suit, but only seemed to get in the way, and yet, she didn’t seem to mind.