The day was gone, and Akaan was satisfied with the state of the Ketch. He found his way to a modest room in an evident barracks, and went to sleep. But a striker sleeps lightly. He heard the footsteps, and was up in a flash, his Jabberhäkke leveled as he moved toward the door. It was footsteps, light ones. It could have been anything. A drug maybe? Perhaps there were shafts or corridors they had missed. He moved out of the room, wearing only compression shorts, with his pistol ready. 

Following sounds and shadows with a reasonable distance, he came to a rather impressive living quarters he was about to go in, when he heard a pair of boots hitting the floor. He ducked behind a salvage bin and waited for the sound to draw nearer. 

****

Nora lay on her side, gazing at the wall in front of her. She was thinking about Akaan. He was everything to her. She couldn't help it. He was strong and confident, yet caring and delicate in his own Titan kind of way. She had always been jealous of Pira, even in death, that warlock was the love of Akaan's life. That made Nora feel like just the background of his life. She was a blur, where Pira had been like crystal. 

With a heavy sigh, Nora pulled up the thick banner she was using as a blanket and gripped the knife under her pillow as she tried to calm her mind enough to sleep.