Kael Umal steps out of the washroom into the narrow below-deck corridor. Steam spills after him, and the Star Streak gives a low, settling creak beneath the floorboards.
Miles waits a few paces away, shoulders tight, face flushed from the heat. She folds and unfolds her hands like she cannot decide whether to stand at attention or run.
Miles
Sir... if I am to be your cabin boy, what am I meant to do when there is nothing to carry, scrub, or fetch?
The question lands too carefully to be simple. Her eyes flick once toward the cabin door, then back to Kael, as if she is asking about more than chores.
Emma
Routine matters more than grand ones. A steady hand is often the best cure for a wandering mind.
Emma lingers near the stairwell with a small, knowing calm, her tone gentle enough to soften the corridor. The distant murmur of the crew continues above, muted by wood and distance.
Kael Umal
Miles wants a role she can understand.
Miles draws a breath, then squares herself with an effort that is almost brave. The cramped passage feels a little warmer for it, and the moment settles into a quiet pause, waiting for Kael to answer.
“Before the captain can answer, Sophie lets the captain know that the Star Streak has arrived at the outpost, Close Space Nine. As the ship docks, they all head to the main deck.”
SUCCESS (Good Agility, rolled +0)