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On the verge of laughing at him trying to play along, she didn’t wish to discourage him, so she kept it in. “Thank you, Quinn.”
“You’re welcome?”
“For playing along.”
“Oh, okay. I mean, you said you wanted me to think of possibilities.”
“I did.”
He reached for her again with one hand. She closed the gap. The placement of their arms was awkward considering they were sitting facing one another, but the contact was nice. Her hand was warmer than his, but the shared temperature quickly adjusted with the skin to skin contact.
“Captain?” Kira’s ear buzzed.
“Yes, Ann?”
“There is something that requires your attention.”
“Thank you, Ann.”
Returning to the side station, Quinn could peer around her shoulder if he wanted to or check it himself. She didn’t bother hiding the relay station as she checked it. The incoming relay came flagged as immediate. Instead of just urgent, Ann had protocols to interrupt proceedings for that.
Skimming quickly, she did not fully read until she hit a particular passage:
Commander West alerted the Praetorian authorities that The Callistar may be carrying unsuitable cargo. Whether or not this is likely or unlikely isn’t my concern, but there was an order that came across my desk today for a search warrant if the ship was able to be tracked down both in their quadrants…
The rest became a blur. Her vision narrowed into a tunnel. West had a pair on him, she’d give him that, but why was this relayed from a contact... Watson should have still been monitoring everything that came from his office.
A muscle flickered in her cheek. Her abilities were not always obvious, but the quick turn and the few steps to the primary display were done too quickly for comfort for most humans.
“What’s wrong?” Quinn was up, following on her heels.
Their long range scanners were active, but not focused on relaying any information unless pertinent. Any ships that came too close, any opposing factions, they would send on alert. But Praetorian ships just weren’t a concern, especially in neutral territories, but thirty minutes ago they’d gone from neutral to theirs.
“That,” she told him, pinpointing three small ships on an intercepting course. “They’ve been informed we have illegal cargo.”
“I’ll go to my room.”
“Okay.” Kira had other concerns with them being Praetorian and was already on the comms. “Morgan, we have Praetorian incoming, possibly looking to board. I need you on the bridge now.”
“Aye Captain.” The response was crisp, and immediate, no arguing or humor this time.
Quinn, halfway towards the door, stopped. The shuffling of his feet lacked speed and the sudden halt, then continuation, told her he was curious at the very least. She didn’t have time to console him or offer comfort at the moment. They had to be ready.
He was swapped for the Pilot in scant minutes.
A more serious grimace encompassed the thin set lines surrounding Morgan’s mouth, typically used for laughter and teasing.
“Is Alec up?” Kira questioned him.
“He is,” Morgan assured her. He’d arrived in his flight suit, purposefully missing the insignia on his shoulders. Since their departure, every crew member wore the same navy slim material, knowingly fireproof.
“We have Praetorian incoming, thirty minutes out tops. I have it on good authority they think we’re transporting contraband. They’re possibly going to want to board.”
Morgan’s entire body tensed. “Should I send out the primary alert?”
“Yes,” she ordered, then added, “Please.”
“I’ll take care of it, Captain.”
