Helmen jerked up, her eyes going wide. “Wait, was that what you were doing? I thought you were proving a point.”
“What point? That I can control my gag reflex when I smell something horrible?”
“No! I thought you were reminding me you can have sex with anyone you want to,” Helmen said. “Remember, we had that conversation because the moms were worried you’ve never been in a real relationship. You said you’d dated a few people, and I said you had fun with them but never dated anyone. Then you said the moms better not bug you about it or you’d bring a Hulg home.”
Amina shook her head. “I was flirting with the Hulg because he was a general inter-planetary councillor, which meant he had all the best access codes. Did you see all the coins on his hat?”
“Oh, I thought they were decorations,” Helmen said.
“They mark governmental rank. Helmen, how could you spend so much time in Hulg territory and not know that?”
Helmen crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “I know what I need to know. I’ve got all their trade and travel laws memorized.”
Amina felt bad for upsetting Helmen. The Ugarian had to fill the role of navigator and captain, which meant she didn’t have time to focus on nonessential things.
“Maybe the moms should be more worried about you,” Amina murmured.
Helmen’s ears went sideways and then all the way down, an indication Amina had actually upset her. “That’s a mean thing to say. Not knowing some coins on a hat is important doesn’t mean I can’t do my job.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Amina said, feeling doubly guilty now. “I meant the moms should make you rest more. You’re the best captain we’ve got, but that means you never take breaks. I’m worried about you.”
Her cousin’s ears fluttered, telling Amina the Ugarian was flustered.
“I’m fine,” Helmen said, looking away from Amina. “I can do my job.”
“I wasn’t implying that you couldn’t,” Amina said. “But let’s make the vacation to Oristia happen.”
Helmen’s shoulders relaxed and she met Amina’s gaze. “If we get the bonus, we can take an entire footfull of vacation.”
Footfull was an Ugarian term for the number 18. No one knew where the phrase came from, but eighteen days off sounded amazing.
“I’ll make sure we get that bonus even if I have to hogtie the passenger and carry him back on board myself!”
Amina’s information square chimed. She picked it up to see a message from their youngest crewmate.
“Desur is done,” Amina declared cheerfully. “I’m going to grab him to do some shopping on the station.”
“I’m sure he was the only one you could convince to leave the ship,” Helmen said. “It stinks so bad out there.”
“I know,” Amina said. “I’m lucky Desur can’t say no. I’m getting parts; is there anything you want me to get?”
“I’ll send you a list,” Helmen said. “None of it is essential, so if the price is high, don’t bother.”
“I’m on it,” Amina said, then made a face. “As long as it doesn’t include setting foot in a Hulg restaurant.”
Hulg eating customs were barbaric, and their delicacies often meant consuming the animal while it was still alive. There’d been a few times a Hulg meal had disappeared and found its way to Amina’s cabin on the ship to eventually find a new home where it got to die of old age.
Thankfully the rest of the crew, and most Ugarians, detested Hulg eating habits as much as she did.
Helmen shuddered as they started walking down the corridor. “Never. I’ll make sure nothing on the list even takes you close.”
“Excellent!” Amina said with a laugh. “Let’s dock so I can go shopping.”
Polkor was an average Hulg station: crowded, busy, and stinky even though the restaurants were far from the docks. Amina was blessed with an average human sense of smell, but her companion Desur had the typical keen Ugarian nose.
“Why do Hulg stations always smell so badly?” Desur grumbled, pulling the neck of his shirt up to cover half his face.
Amina rummaged through a deep pocket on her jacket and pulled out a small jar of scent-dampening agent. “Here, use some of this.”
