The hum of the ship's engines was the only sound that greeted Pick as he woke. He groaned and sat up as he touched his feet to the cold metal floor of his cabin. The thrum of the ship through his feet still unnerved him. He hadn’t ever been off Myero before, and the lack of a day/night cycle and the knowledge that he was speeding through space still gave him the jitters.
Pick stretched his stiff limbs and glanced around the small cabin. It wasn’t much to look at. The narrow cot was bolted to the wall with starched sheets that felt like they’d never been used before. A metal locker hung opposite the bed filled with the few belongings he’d brought with him. A terminal that was older than him flickered with readouts of ship data that he didn’t understand. The walls were cold and bare, and the soft whir of ventilation barely broke the silence. An ever-present thrum seemed to permeate every part of the ship, something he didn’t think he would ever get used to.
Every creak and shudder was a reminder of how far from solid ground he was. No streets to slip into, no crowds to disappear in—just endless space outside these thin walls. It unnerved him, and yet, something was thrilling about the whole thing too. The freedom of it. No more crowded city blocks, no more grubby streets of Myero, and definitely no more waiting to get caught by the authorities. Out here, they were untouchable.
He ran a hand through his unkempt hair and sighed. If he wanted to make it here, he’d have to adapt. Or at least, fake it well enough that no one noticed.
A tinny, but distinctly feminine, voice issued from the terminal behind him, startling him, “Looking a little worse for well there, buddy.”
Pick turned and saw the grainy image of Skye smiling back at him from the terminal screen. Since coming aboard, Pick had found out she was the pilot of the Fotrtune’s Feat and a good one. He had yet to see her in action, but Ash had made it seem like he was lucky to have someone of her caliber aboard the ship. Though knowing that, Pick wondered if she was so good why she wasn’t flying a vessel more prestigious than a pirate ship operating out of Myero.
“Captain wants everyone in the kitchen in five for a meeting.”
Pick smiled at the older woman and tried to brush his hair back into something resembling straight with his fingers, “Doubt he needs much from me unless he wants me to pick your pockets again.”
She raised her eyebrow and gave him a wry smile, “You get your fingers near my pockets again and I’ll break them.”
Her tone was joking, but there was also a hint of a promise behind them. Pick decided not to push his luck and said, “I’m on my way.”
The terminal went blank again before displaying the scrolling text of the status of various ship systems. Pick stood and stretched, then hit the button to open the sliding, air-tight, door that led from his room. As Pick moved through the ship's narrow corridors, he couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation. He’d only been on the ship for a few days, but they’d been quiet days and he was ready for something to happen.
When he passed by the closed door to the bridge, he heard something—a muffled conversation, urgent but quiet. He slowed his pace, straining to catch any details, but the ship’s low hum drowned out the words. There was something about the tone, though—serious, almost... excited?
Before he could move closer, a hand landed on his shoulder. Pick jerked back instinctively, and turned to look into the face of Gage. The stern woman eyed him up and down with the ever-present scowl on his face deepening, “The captain doesn’t pay us to snoop around the bridge. Keep moving.”
Pick nodded, keeping his mouth shut. Whatever was going on, he’d find out soon enough.
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