Deathwalker 4.2

            “What did he mean thiss time?”
            The sound of the captain’s voice still set my nerves on end, but I must’ve been getting a better handle on it because this time I didn’t miss the doubting, disdainful edge to the question. Instead of answering immediately, I blinked as if adjusting to the harsh light of what I assumed was the cargo bay and took a moment to recap everything he’d said so far. Every single word had come out with a sneer.
            My eyes narrowed.
            “You know Ter Dryst, Captain,” I said in a saccharine tone through teeth gritted in a poor facsimile of a smile, “such a practical jokester.”
            With that, I turned and headed casually across the cargo bay as if having a pissed-off Caldling behind me didn’t make my skin crawl. When I got to the point where I would have to choose which doorway to head for, I glanced back over my shoulder.
            “Which way to my quarters?”
            “You-” the word was half hiss and half snarl.
            “Am taking up your time, Captain, I know.” I said with that same insincere smile. “If you’ll direct me to my quarters, I’ll get out of your way.”
            The captain approached me with rage in his eyes and far too many teeth showing. I kept my stance casual but made sure my weight was over the balls of my feet. I wasn’t 10 anymore.
            A hissing sentence shot out of the doorway to my right. I knew just enough Caldese to know that the crewmember had asked if the pilot could take off. For an instant, the captain seemed torn between answering and tearing me apart; then, he stalked past me and through the doorway. Another pithy hiss made me the crewmember’s problem.
            I relaxed slightly. Then, he stepped through the door. Another Caldling. This day kept getting better and better.


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