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"I appreciate that. Let's focus on the mission… for now."
His voice hinted at something she couldn't quite place, but it sent a thrill down her spine. Tamping down her excitement, she turned to watch the star-filled void slide past as they powered on toward the Krantav system.
After a while, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small container. Cracking the lid revealed the collection of small cakes nestled inside. Their golden tops were cracked and glossy, and a rich aroma filled the close confines of the cockpit.
"I made more cakes," she said, holding out the container toward him. "Chocolate chip. I thought you might like to try some. They're from my grandmother's recipe."
His gaze flicked to the cakes, then back to her, expression unreadable. "You should have brought weapons instead of baked goods," he said gruffly, but reached out and took a cake.
She watched as he bit into it, his eyes closing for a moment, the faintest look of pleasure crossing his face before it was quickly schooled back into impassivity.
"It's… acceptable," he muttered after swallowing the last crumb.
She smiled to herself. That was high praise indeed coming from the less-than-talkative engineer. Popping the lid back on, she put the container down on a spare space on the console in case he wanted some more.
"So how long have you been assigned to the station? You seem very familiar with the ships and systems."
His attention remained fixed on the control panel, as he made adjustments to their course. "I arrived not long after the conversion started."
She nodded. "And before Devan, did you serve on one of the other Latharian ships?" she prompted, trying to keep the conversation going.
"Yes," he said, still not looking at her.
She bit her lip. Okay… blood out of a stone here.
"Prince Rohn tells me you're interested in learning more about manufacturing methods on Earth," she began. "I worked in quality control at a plastics fabrication plant. What would you like to know?"
He turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised in interest.
"You worked in fabrication?" he asked.
"How many units were you responsible for overseeing?"
"About five thousand units daily," she replied, her voice steady and confident. It should be, she'd spent countless hours ensuring quality.
"And the materials you worked with, what were they?"
"We worked with triphasylene derivatives and advanced quadpolynate composites," she said. "Each had its own set of challenges, from durability to temperature resilience."
"What standards and tolerances were mandated at your facility?"
"We had a range of them depending on which contract we were working on," she said, ticking off the most critical on her fingers. "We adhered to IVNO standards, specifically IVNO 18290 for quality management systems. Tolerances were tight, often not more than a hundredth of an inch. It was crucial for the components we fabricated."
He grunted an acknowledgement. "You have more experience than I expected. Perhaps you can be useful on this mission after all."
She bit back her smile.
"I'm happy to share anything that might help improve manufacturing," she said. "Earth methods may be primitive compared to Latharian technology, but we've learned a few tricks over the years."
He nodded. "Primitive, perhaps, but durable enough to endure. Much like your people." He gave her an assessing look. "You continue to... exceed expectations."
She inclined her head, ignoring the flush on her cheeks. "Well… thank you. Glad you approve."
He still watched her, a speculative look in his eyes.
"How is Ollie doing?"
A burst of pleasure filled her. "He's doing great, thank you. Much better now and running me off my feet."
