Page 29 of Klaz
I leaned in to look, acutely aware of her proximity. Her scent filled my nostrils, clouding my thoughts. I stepped back abruptly, needing distance.
“Interesting,” I muttered. “But unless it can fix our ship, it’s not much use to us.”
Cinta frowned. “You don’t have to be such an ass about it. I’m just trying to understand our situation better.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just... on edge.”
Her expression softened. “I know. We both are. But pushing each other away isn’t going to help.”
Before I could respond, a faint beeping caught my attention. I followed the sound to a nearby console, hope surging as I recognized the equipment.
“It’s a long-range communication system,” I breathed. “It’s damaged, but... if we can get it working...”
CINTA
Iwatched Klaz’s broad back as he hunched over the communication console, his fingers dancing across the controls with surprising dexterity for their size. The harsh fluorescent lights of the abandoned research station cast deep shadows across his angular features, highlighting the curve of his horns and the swirling patterns on his gray skin.
“So,” I said, leaning against a nearby workstation, “are we going to talk about contacting the authorities, or are you just going to keep pretending I’m not here?”
Klaz’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn around. “We’ve been over this, Cinta. It’s not safe.”
I crossed my arms, frustration bubbling up inside me. “Not safe for who? You? Me? Or the hundreds of passengers we left behind with those pirates?”
His fingers paused on the console, the only sound the low hum of machinery around us.
“All of the above,” he finally said, his voice low and gravelly.
I pushed off from the workstation. “Those people need help, Klaz. We can’t just abandon them.”
He turned then, his gaze boring into mine.
“I’m not abandoning anyone,” he said. “I’m contacting someone better equipped to handle the situation.”
“Someone better? Care to elaborate on that cryptic little nugget?”
Klaz’s jaw clenched, and he turned back to the console. “No.”
I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Seriously? We’re stuck on this ice ball together, and you’re still playing the strong, silent type? What are you hiding?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” he growled.
I stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. “Everything about this situation concerns me, big guy. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m in this mess too.”
Klaz’s nostrils flared, then he took a deep breath, his massive chest expanding, and turned to face me fully.
“I understand your frustration,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “But there are things at play here that you don’t understand. Trust me when I say that contacting the authorities would only make things worse.”
I wanted to argue, to push for more information, but something in his eyes gave me pause. There was a vulnerability there, hidden beneath layers of stoicism and control.
“Fine,” I said, stepping back. “But I want to help. What can I do?”
Klaz’s expression shifted, surprise flickering across his features before he masked it. He gestured to a nearby panel. “The power coupling for the long-range transmitter is fried. If you can rewire it while I recalibrate the signal to the right channel, it would help.”
I nodded, grateful for something to focus on besides the maddening enigma of a man before me. As I set to work on the panel, I could feel Klaz’s eyes on me.
“Where did you learn to do that?” he asked as I expertly stripped a wire.
I smirked. “Let’s just say my education was... unconventional.”