Jenna went to the bathroom, and when she emerged, two trays of food sat on the retractable tables in front of their beds.
A savory, rich scent wafted through the berth.
“Smells good,” Jenna admitted, seating herself and peering down at the large bowl of stew. “I thought you said food on these ships was tasteless?”
“It is … try it before you decide.”
Jenna picked up a spoon and started to eat. Her first mouthful confirmed that, indeed, the stew smelled better than it tasted. The meat was tough. “Gods,” she muttered when she finally managed to swallow. “What did they put in the stew … chelrog hide?”
Across the berth, Malik smiled. “You’ve eaten the meat of a chasm lizard then?”
Jenna pulled a face. Chelrogs were huge beasts that dwelt in the canyons and ravines upon Idral. “No.”
“I grew up eating chelrog … it's delicate and slightly sweet. Nothing like this.”
Jenna nodded and took another mouthful of stew. His response was polite enough, yet Malik had just reminded her—once again—of the gulf that separated them. They’d both been born and raised on Idral, yet they might as well have grown up on planets at opposite ends of the sector.
Pushing aside her irritation, she met his eye. “How old are you, Captain?”
Malik swallowed a mouth of stew. “Thirty-five … why?”
“Members of the Lord’s Watch get to retire at forty … you’re not far off.”
He grimaced. “I was … until this fiasco.”
“You’ll still get your pension,” she assured him.
Malik didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up the flatbread sitting next to his stew and tore off a piece.
Jenna took another mouthful of her meal. It was tasteless and tough, but she’d finish it. She had to keep up her strength for what lay ahead. Her throat tightened then, and she swallowed with difficulty—Cathal's life depended on what she did next.
“Forty is young for retirement,” she said after a pause. Questioning her bodyguard took her mind off her brother’s plight. “What do you plan to do with the rest of your life?”
Malik shrugged. “I haven’t given it much thought.”
“Will you travel … go see the galaxy?”
“Maybe.”
His laconic responses were starting to wear on her, and irritation bubbled up. She should let this subject drop, yet she stubbornly pressed on. “Or perhaps you’ve got a hankering to be a family man. When you retire, you’ll buy yourself a house in Melor and find yourself a wife.”
He snorted. “Perhaps.”
Jenna’s grip tightened on her spoon. She was only trying to make conversation, to ease things between them a little, but she’d have an easier time communicating with this dish of stew.
She wondered then, how far she could trust this man.
Physically, she felt safe with him—he’d recently saved her life, after all, and helped her flee Aura Terminal. Malik had always been loyal to her brother, but his relationship with Jenna was strained. Perhaps he was trying to undermine her?
We’re not friends, she reminded herself.Maybe you should stop trying to draw him into conversation.
They finished their meals in silence, and were both sitting on their beds, sipping at the glasses of wine that accompanied the stew, when Malik eventually spoke. “We need to talk about the next step, My Lady.”
Jenna took a gulp of wine.Here we go.She’d been expecting him to question her at some point during this journey—and she was ready for him.
Giving a brisk nod, she answered, “As soon as we reach our lodgings, I shall contactTheStar Tempest …then we’ll need to get ourselves some mercenaries.”She paused. “When I couldn’t sleep back on Aura, I did a search on my tablet … it looks like Morith is full of soldiers for hire.”
Malik swirled the remnants of his wine about his glass. “Mercs don’t come cheap … I didn’t check your balance when I used your PCSD earlier. How many credits do you have left?”
