status-conscious dignitaries, and packing and being ready to leave a room in minutes didn’t seem to be anything one of the local businesspeople would need. She didn’t know how to survive in a jungle or extract cortiglow, so those jobs were out.
“I can cook.”
“That’s a good talent. If you’d like, I can introduce you to our head chef, Claude Bezo, and see if he could use some help in the barrack’s kitchen.”
Cara considered this as she looked at Zashi. He was being nice. Helpful, in fact. She’d always enjoyed cooking for Mat and the companions whenever they’d had access to a kitchen, Soren sniffed that it wasn’t a suitable occupation for her, but they inevitably needed to eat. The opportunity to learn something from an actual chef burned bright in her mind. She’d never realized it was something she wanted until it was placed right in her hands. “I would like that. Thank you, Chief Zashi.”
“It’s Ben.”
“It’s been what?”
“My name is Ben. Call me that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And don’t call me that.”
She almost asked him why not, but Mat called out for her to come and see something swimming in the water, and she welcomed the interruption. That small moment of accord between her and Ben was unsettling. It was time for her to put those protective shields up and get back to her primary responsibility of protecting her brother.
Chapter 4
Ben was tense. It had been a busy morning at the station, where every minor incident had gone even more haywire than it should; whether it was adjusting the work schedule when three people requested the same night off or the urgent summons from District Headquarters for the return of a patrol officer who hadn’t even reported for duty yet. He felt as if he was abandoning his admin staff by taking the afternoon off to escort Cara and Mat to collect their things from the crashed ship. He didn’t care to examine too closely how many times he’d anticipated the appointment as the morning had dragged on.
Pressing the main kitchen doors open, Ben tried to calm himself into a more amenable frame of mind as he entered the noisy, fragrant room in search of Cara. She’d apparently made a good impression with Claude, and he’d drafted her on the spot when she’d reported for duty after escorting Mat to his first day at the settlement school.
Ben knew all this because he’d set his datpad to screen for the Belascos whenever they passed through a security scan at the public buildings. Some might consider it invasive to monitor their movements, but if she considered herself and her brother at risk, he needed to know where they were. So, when Mat had registered at school that morning, he’d gotten a ping, and when Cara had entered the kitchen, he’d gotten another. It was reassuring.
Several of the workers glanced up at him and gave him smiles, ranging from nearly non-existent to tentative. Pretty typical greetings for the chief of safety and security. He spotted Claude at a tall counter, inspecting plates of food, and the other man pointed at a far corner. Nodding his thanks, Ben made his way past a man cutting up something yellow with a thin, flashing knife and then spotted Cara. He assumed it was Cara, this woman had the same build, but her gleaming hair was confined under a white cap, and when she turned at his approach, he hesitated. She wore goggles, her blue green eyes blinking behind wavy lenses.
“Is it time?”
“What are those? What are you doing?” Ben asked as she carefully set her knife on the cutting board and turned to him. There was a messy pile of some sort of outer membrane oozing green fluid all over the counter and a tidy stack of purplish flesh sliced into tiny cubes on the board in front of her. Cara swept the neat cubes into a gleaming steel container and placed a lid over it quickly. She slid the skin fragments into a waste receptacle and placed the knife in a shallow pan.
“I’m breaking down orphilians.” Cara wiped
“I can cook.”
“That’s a good talent. If you’d like, I can introduce you to our head chef, Claude Bezo, and see if he could use some help in the barrack’s kitchen.”
Cara considered this as she looked at Zashi. He was being nice. Helpful, in fact. She’d always enjoyed cooking for Mat and the companions whenever they’d had access to a kitchen, Soren sniffed that it wasn’t a suitable occupation for her, but they inevitably needed to eat. The opportunity to learn something from an actual chef burned bright in her mind. She’d never realized it was something she wanted until it was placed right in her hands. “I would like that. Thank you, Chief Zashi.”
“It’s Ben.”
“It’s been what?”
“My name is Ben. Call me that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And don’t call me that.”
She almost asked him why not, but Mat called out for her to come and see something swimming in the water, and she welcomed the interruption. That small moment of accord between her and Ben was unsettling. It was time for her to put those protective shields up and get back to her primary responsibility of protecting her brother.
Chapter 4
Ben was tense. It had been a busy morning at the station, where every minor incident had gone even more haywire than it should; whether it was adjusting the work schedule when three people requested the same night off or the urgent summons from District Headquarters for the return of a patrol officer who hadn’t even reported for duty yet. He felt as if he was abandoning his admin staff by taking the afternoon off to escort Cara and Mat to collect their things from the crashed ship. He didn’t care to examine too closely how many times he’d anticipated the appointment as the morning had dragged on.
Pressing the main kitchen doors open, Ben tried to calm himself into a more amenable frame of mind as he entered the noisy, fragrant room in search of Cara. She’d apparently made a good impression with Claude, and he’d drafted her on the spot when she’d reported for duty after escorting Mat to his first day at the settlement school.
Ben knew all this because he’d set his datpad to screen for the Belascos whenever they passed through a security scan at the public buildings. Some might consider it invasive to monitor their movements, but if she considered herself and her brother at risk, he needed to know where they were. So, when Mat had registered at school that morning, he’d gotten a ping, and when Cara had entered the kitchen, he’d gotten another. It was reassuring.
Several of the workers glanced up at him and gave him smiles, ranging from nearly non-existent to tentative. Pretty typical greetings for the chief of safety and security. He spotted Claude at a tall counter, inspecting plates of food, and the other man pointed at a far corner. Nodding his thanks, Ben made his way past a man cutting up something yellow with a thin, flashing knife and then spotted Cara. He assumed it was Cara, this woman had the same build, but her gleaming hair was confined under a white cap, and when she turned at his approach, he hesitated. She wore goggles, her blue green eyes blinking behind wavy lenses.
“Is it time?”
“What are those? What are you doing?” Ben asked as she carefully set her knife on the cutting board and turned to him. There was a messy pile of some sort of outer membrane oozing green fluid all over the counter and a tidy stack of purplish flesh sliced into tiny cubes on the board in front of her. Cara swept the neat cubes into a gleaming steel container and placed a lid over it quickly. She slid the skin fragments into a waste receptacle and placed the knife in a shallow pan.
“I’m breaking down orphilians.” Cara wiped
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