Tara enjoyed the quiet working off shift on this report granted her. Not that her domain was every noisy. Comprised of a counter, three computers, several more tablets, and a locked closet behind her the room was little more than a closet, but it was Tara’s. Outside of the labs, the mess, and other common rooms it was downright spacious for Farfell Station.

Click clack. The real spooled between the rods. Across the room an answering echo returned.

I knew I failed at controlling my shock at the audacity of the Arkwright’s question. I’d never thought that a mouth hanging open in shock could be a real reaction, just farce shown in movies. But I was doing it. How could my neighbors ask that?

A loud thump echoed through the ship from somewhere in the crew section of the ship. Ian quirked an eyebrow up not bothering to straighten from slumping in the pilot’s chair. Not even when the string of expletives followed the sound. That thump had resembled Alex hitting a bulkhead and not equipment crashing or glitching. She’d be along quick enough. Boots thumping on the plate deck sounded before he’d finished the thought. Tucking his hands behind his head, Ian slouched further into his seat.