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DOMINSKI MET SILHOUETTE AT THE top of the Krajova’s boarding ramp.
“Let me show you to your quarters. I’ve put together a spot for you away from the others.”
Silhouette followed Dominski around the circular pattern of the ship. She could hear chatter in an inner layer of the vessel, but Dominski didn’t head that way. They passed by a number of ancillary rooms as they walked— the water hold, regenerative systems, and other starship necessities. Silhouette wasn’t surprised at where Dominski was leading her. She had studied the layout of the ship and had a good guess at where she was going to be put.
“I emptied out this old broom closet and put in a cot for you. Nothing special, but it’s about the only private spot on the ship aside from my own quarters.”
Silhouette stepped into the small space. She hadn’t brought any belongings to unpack, so she just sat on the bed and waited for Dominski to leave.
“You don’t talk much, do you? Why don’t you come out and socialize a bit? You’ve kind of creeped out those doctors and my crew. They’re already talking like there is a ghost on this ship.”
“I’m not here to make friends, Jeden.”
“I’m not asking you to make friends. I’m telling you to get your butt out of that bed and become familiar with the crew of my ship. We’re all here for the same reason and we’re all getting paid by the Cooperation. Same team, miss Silhouette. Now come on, move it.”
“With all due respect, I don’t follow your command, Jeden.”
“On my ship you do.” He stepped forward and grabbed Silhouette by her arm. In response, Silhouette seized Dominski’s wrist and twisted it behind his back as she swung herself around his body. Dominski laughed. “Go ahead, break my arm. Then subdue my crew after they run in here one after another as I yell out in agony. What are you going to do? Kill us all and ruin the mission? I don’t think your Presider would excuse those actions, even from you. Now lighten up.”
Silhouette let go of Dominski’s arm and pushed him forward so that he fell onto the bed. “Fine,” she said as she turned to walk out of the room, “that cot sucks, by the way.”
She left Dominski behind and followed the sounds of the crew to the communal room. It was a large, circular chamber in the middle of the ship that acted as a gathering space and looked like it was used for everything from meals to meetings.
Bourdain and Carter were sitting at a table playing a game of chess. Mercenaries Yost and Nguyen were studying some digital diagrams together over by the data systems. Kapoor stood against a table next to a disassembled rifle: the same one that had been strapped to her back earlier.
All conversation and activity ceased when Silhouette walked into the room. Another member of the Krajova Team, Albert Jordan, the pilot, stepped down from the stairs that led to the cockpit, stopping midway as he felt the tension in the room.
Silhouette stood there, an emptiness, an unknown to everyone else on the ship. She was a monster to them— a ghost, just as Dominski had said. Maybe I do still need to work on my social skills. Silhouette was a person, after all, wasn’t she?
“Hi,” she said.
There were a few nods in response. The game of chess continued and Jordan proceeded down the remaining flight of steps. “Hey there,” he said as he passed Silhouette and walked out of the room.
“Do you want some coffee?” asked Yost. He held up his cup and gestured as if he would go and grab another for her.
“No thanks. I’ll bring some to my quarters in a bit.” She pointed at her face. “Can’t drink it through the mask.”
“Yeah,” said Kapoor as she twirled a wire-tube brush around her fingers. “What’s with the getup? Why do you gotta stay all mysterious and shit? You get to see our faces.”
“Instructions by the Presider,” said Silhouette. “I’m not allowed to reveal my identity to anyone.”
“What makes you so special?” asked Kapoor. She grabbed the rifle’s barrel and wriggled the brush inside of it as she spoke. “We’re going out to the same place as you. Gonna see the same things, same people. Why aren’t our identities protected?”
“You’d have to ask the Presider that, or your Jeden. I don’t question or disobey my orders. I’m sure you don’t, either. Am I right?”
“Hmpf.” Kapoor turned away from Silhouette as Dominski entered the room.
“Kapral Nguyen, how goes your understanding of the logistics of our mission?”
“I’m getting there, Jeden. Kapral Yost is a good teacher.”
“Good,” said Dominski. “Everyone prepare for takeoff. We leave in five minutes.”
“Yes, Jeden,” came from all around.
“Doctors, Silhouette, follow me,” said Yost. “I’ll show you where to strap in. The Krajova isn’t one for smooth takeoffs. Or landings, either, really.”