More of the Vosa's neuroses appear after the jump from Abarra. The time on Gamagdhi has made her comfortable enough with the rest of the crew to dispense with her veiling, and she comes to bed and training without her secondary sleeves, her once-hidden tattoos on display and occasionally oiled after a shower. It is easier having her comfortable in her skin as she moves about the ship, watching Pachei's video games or lessons, playing with Gunner.
Less easy is her extreme care toward the monitors combined with her extreme unwillingness to sleep alone or with Tavalas. She insists Mojgan and Pachei keep the same schedule for Pachei's training. They have begun teaching Tavalas and Pachei what to look for on the monitors to ensure everything is clear, but they still doublecheck. If Nihn were not here, or not the Autarch's daughter, or willing to sleep only with Pachei, Mojgan would have begun keeping to the much more skewed wake/sleep cycle she had on the seedship, that she kept privately in her rooms while studying at the Palace of Noble Deliverance. But the Vosa has already expressed concerns about Mojgan's food intake, and she returns to Mojgan's rooms when she wants to speak about something the Tungsten Princess could not burden a little Koyan cousin over, so Nihn interrupts her sleep most her nights and naps in the lounge during her days like the parent of a newborn to check her monitors when she won't let Mojgan insist on pulling her weight.
She does not nap in the last hours waiting to come out of jump. Pachei and Tavalas and Gunner accompany her in the bridge, the former two learning. Mojgan goes back to the drives, wanting to make sure they return to space safely despite a gently chiding from Nihn not to pick up Tezetan paranoia against the work the Cavrisi yards did.
The Tranquil Cloud shifts out of jump space with no issues. Mojgan listens to Nihn's chatter with Guparta station and then the League of the Road officer when she is connected to him. When there are no continued issues, she leaves the drive room for the bridge and gets her first view of the station from the screens.
Guparta is nothing like Abarra, the Floating Palace, or the Teraat Companion Orbital. It is perhaps of a similar size to the Floating Palace, meaning its maximum population would be absolutely miniscule to Abarra's current one even if Nihn had not already told Mojgan there would be less than 100 people between the station and the desert world below. The station itself is ancient, decrepit, and an amalgam of many stations, ships, and styles salvaged from perhaps centuries of patchwork repairs and expansions. It does not seem like the entire station has power. Station control assigns Nihn the berth closest to the League office, but she could have had her pick of the lot--they are the only detectable ship in the system.
In preparation of being around others, Nihn has donned another set of coveralls, this one with a large embroidered horse and flowers across the back in place of a company logo. She kept it zipped completely up, sleeves pulled down, pants tucked into boots. Nothing of interest besides her horse is visible as she checks over her own crew and ushers them to the League office, which is a single room and a wash closet even smaller than the ones on the Cloud. Inside is a man perhaps Nihn's age named Kishor Guha, his desk, a divab perhaps large enough for two small people or a cramped nap, and a small side table with a plant, UV lamp, and an electric kettle on it. Mojgan has never felt claustrophobic before, but she is grateful Nihn did not bring Gunner.
The small room begins to warm quickly with the extra body heat. Kishor tries to hurry through the paperwork he could validate while they traveled toward the station and docked. During his chatter, he says that he is glad to meet faces that are interested in the League, as there have not been many travelers here in quite some time, and the natives here would much rather have a ConAuth man here, or a League man who could share with them the secrets of the Autarch’s biotech. They continue to accept the League’s help on making inroads on neglected parts of the station, but the collective dream is for a living one.
Nihn makes a small face at the news, and settles into the divan, telling the crew she would rather stay here and look at the records of one of the oldest League offices than stretch her legs on station. Tavalas echoes a similar statement.
Mojgan cannot fathom remaining in the cramped office for the entire refueling process, and Pachei does not look up to the challenge of it either. Nihn warns them to be circumspect as they leave, as if she was not the one who threw herself into an illegal hunt of a wild animal on Abarra station.
The dancers make their escape. Pachei is excited. She has never heard Nazanin speak of traveling to Guparta, and neither has Mojgan. They are potentially somewhere their fartraveler has never stepped—somewhere they might be able to bring the first stories, the first photos, the first gifts. They will need to find good things—meet the most interesting people with the most interesting stories, because Nazanin will surely want them. Mojgan wants Gupartan food, and to get Pachei a little something to remember this private little corner of space they have found.
Their plans begin to falter quickly. As they leave the docks—an area meant for many more ships and much more business than the station has—they hear a “Hey, lady!” The gruff voice doesn’t use the khatoum of a noblewoman, or a respectful but general sahiba. He uses the common terminology of a catcall that is not overtly vulgar, and Mojgan ignores it, continuing past the man who spoke, an older man who looks like he may potentially be a dockworker—or likely a general laborer for the station.
They hear footsteps behind them—the man, following, catching up. She presses Pachei slightly ahead and turns, spearing the man with a look of such indignation he stops, hand still outstretched. She can’t fathom such a thing happening at the mouth of Teraat’s docks, not when the Tezetan guard and Cahiid’s honor rested on it.
The man offers a gruff non-apology and tells her it would be best if she took out her eye, to prove it is merely glass and not cybernetic. Mojgan’s offense rises. Her eye has captured Teraat’s imagination for years, but even the rudest Teraati nobles have never asked her directly about it, let alone demanded she remove it. She tells him she will not be doing that.
Eye. Glass? Cyborg? Osadan bio stuff?
Space prayer to Autarch and earnest convo about dancers/philosophy that pisses everyone off