She felt good, pleased with herself as she closed the door behind her. She had left Kyso in a healthy, positive mood, purposeful and more confident than she had found him. Score one for her. He’d even accepted offer of help with the balky thruster drivers.

Traejan was next. Despite that, her smile persisted for a number of steps down the grimy corridor. Her hope was on the rise. Maybe everything would work out perfectly this time. Maybe she had even found someone she could trust to watch over her when the time came. That would satisfy Dorian, certainly.

Althea sighed, putting a hand on the door leading to the complex’s garage. According to Kyso, Traejan would be there, working on the vehicle that, theoretically, they’d be taking to Panak, and then to the south.

Though the door, she could hear the sound, feel the vibration of powered tools or engines. She felt a sudden pang of doubt. Kyso had been easy to turn around. Traejan would be more of a challenge, his feelings towards her far more complex.

Going to turn back before you even open the door?

A deep breath, then another fortified her. She pulled the door open – felt a burst of cooler air, the tang of metal and lubricants. At the other side of the high walled chamber, she could see the Makani man working hard. It looked as though he was trying to install a thruster assembly on a hulking, rusty chassis.

Whatever the thing was, it had no roof, just thickly tubed cage over the flat undercarriage.

If that’s the lifter, maybe it would be safer to walk.

Althea made her way through the maze of scattered pieces, large and small, of vehicle parts and partially filled crates, unnoticed. She had to take a serpentine route. As with Kyso, organization in the workshops didn’t seem to matter that much to him.

Nor cleanliness – the work suit he wore was caked in black dirt or dried lubricants, much worse than the other man’s had been. The lifter was no cleaner, only gleaming where parts had obviously been removed. His close–cropped hair, once blonde, had become almost as blackened as his clothing.

He didn’t notice her approach closer, still trying to manhandle the components together. It wasn’t at all a close fit. The struggle he was having was comical. She wanted to help him with it – instinctively. Was he as skilled a mechanic as Kyso? If so, they both needed her help desperately.

It pained her how he was struggling. A six or so away, she was close enough to hear him curse at it.

“Come on,” the intensity of his struggle, curses suggested as if he was going to rupture something. “Come on!”

Althea winced in sympathy.

He suddenly gave up; turning away from the equipment, his grimy face twisted with anger, frustration and pain, then suddenly noticed her. His expression turned to embarrassment, tried to wipe some of the dirt off his face; ended up putting more on. It was an oddly attractive gesture.

Traejan swore lightly, then offered, “So it’s you.”

Nodded, she tried to appear nonjudgemental, unthreatening.

How do I start this?