tense up around her more, his muscles bulging.
“…Are you uncomfortable?” he asked, and she could’ve sworn that there was a certain strain to his voice. Then again, maybe it was the comm.
“It’s a tight space,” she laughed by way of explanation. “Sorry, I’ll stop distracting you.”
“Mhm,” he agreed, clicking away at the computer. With a particularly hard jab to the blue switch, the pod door closed, automatically turning the emergency lights on overhead. The screen itself brightened up, and Zaddik paused as it filled up with text. “Do you have a code?” he asked.
“Oh,” Sherre said. She hadn’t been made to take over as a pilot in so long, she’d forgotten all the sign in procedure. “Mine’s X-6-6-N,” she rattled off easily. It was a code that she’d been given back at the academy, and, thinking on it, she half-turned in to ask Zaddik if Eiztar pilots were assigned individual codes.
The determined set of his jaw and the concentration furrowing his brow gave her pause, but not nearly so much as the flush of his neck. He seemed to be sweating, and she wondered if the small pod space was getting to him.
“There we go,” he grinned, and suddenly the morose energy disappeared to reveal the smiling man who’d tapped her on the shoulder out of appreciation for her braids. “God, listen to it,” he muttered, his breath hot on the back of Sherre’s bare neck as the three engines roared to life beneath their feet. And yet, as he chuckled to himself and planted his feet, she couldn’t help but notice that the discoloration on his neck hadn’t disappeared.
Sherre turned back to the front and tried not to think about it. After all, it could’ve just been a trait of his species – and if it wasn’t, then that was all the more reason not to bring it up. Captain Taryn had said that she was in good hands, and the little that Sherre had seen of Zaddik did nothing to make her think otherwise. In fact, he seemed like the sort of person to say something, rather than put another party in danger out of pride. She was sure that if he really hadn’t felt up to taking command of the controls, then he would’ve said something.
“All right,” Zaddik said, muttering to himself. “All clear for takeoff.” He didn’t seem unfamiliar with Earth’s hands-free technology, and the moment that the screen before them cleared to reveal a hologram of their surroundings, Zaddik raised his hand and led the ship into the air.
“Whoa!” Sherre yelped, scrambling to grab onto Zaddik as she flew forward. But instead of falling into the controls, something wrapped around her stomach, yanking her back down.
“Careful,” Zaddik said, and she realized all too late that it was his arm that had caught her.
“T-thanks!” Sherre breathed, feeling stupid. She should’ve been paying more attention, but she had assumed that Zaddik was going to take off like every other pilot from Earth would’ve done. Only, Zaddik wasn’t from Earth – hadn’t even handled an Earth spaceship before.
“Sorry,” she said, her face hot. “Um, you can let me go.” Fisting a hand in the mesh material of his pants, she said, “I’m good.”
His arm flexed around her like he was going to, but then he just tightened his grip. “It’s a short ride,” he said gruffly. “I can one-hand it.”
He meant the controls, of course, but it still made Sherre’s cheeks burn. She wanted to disagree, to shake his hot hold on her, but she wasn’t about to open her mouth and argue with him. At least, not while they were still trying to take off and avoid collision with the other pods.
Watching the hologram, Sherre was not surprised to see Willovitch take off in her pod first. She was one of the best pilots on their crew according to Jeline, and though Sherre had never had a chance to see her in action before, she knew that it must’ve been true by the way that Willovitch sped ahead.
“We’re next,” Zaddik warned, and Sherre resisted the urge to squirm as his arm curled around her tighter. Typing away with his free hand as he prepped the pod, he asked, “Ready?”
Sherre nodded, “Whenever you are,” she said weakly.
Zaddik
Zaddik did not like Sherre’s cramped Earth pod.
Not only was the shaky hands-off technology similar to the terrible design of a Thagzar X-417 slave transport ship, but the sluggish response time had almost thrown Sherre into the controls. Which, he knew, also