Work Text:
Satra tries not to pity Veril as she welcomes her aboard the ship. She doesn’t seem bothered by her father’s disappearance - instead she looks and acts numb, static in apathy, as if she’s withdrawing from every part of the universe around her.
“Welcome,” Satra says. “You’ve already proven yourself to be a very gifted engineer. We’re lucky to have you.”
“Thanks,” Veril replies, her voice sharp, robotic. “I hope to help as much as I can,” she adds, each word pounded out into the air, drawn from her throat as if being tortured out of her. “Uh, do you… do you have anywhere I can get some sleep?”
Satra smiles at her, a crestfallen gaze. “You can follow me. I’ll show you to your quarters.”
“Okay, thanks.”
They wind their way through the labyrinth of the R.R.W Vixal, through each aging corridor and pathway. Occasionally Satra stops to introduce Veril to some of the crew, exchanging brief spars of small talk. When they finally reach Veril’s new quarters, it feels like they spent centuries navigating the warbird, centuries since Veril first boarded, centuries since Veril’s father disappeared. Centuries, ages, eons. All of it melts away around her.
Satra moves closer. “We will find your father,” she says, with admirable determination. Veril, inexplicably, shivers as she feels Satra’s warm breath against her face. “And they will get what they deserve.”