Whatever environmental engine powered the tempest, it seemed to draw on an unlimited supply of energy, for it drove our island along for two days, keeping us trapped in the gig. With plenty of work to do, we kept busy. I spent time getting the full environmental system back up and running - a necessity if we were to return to space. We also dismantled the engine control console, useless with the main engine gone, reduced and configured the piloting station to a single console, constructing new fuel lines and printed out water(fuel) tanks as well the plastic rudder panels.
Siss got bored pretty fast, and perhaps hungry as well, though she refused any synth food, and instead slept a lot, wrapped around Cin's hammock.
As long as I was not too inquisitive, Cin would now relate discrete tales of her exploits, both the old school day ones, and her professional triumphs. Her story was that she'd taken Vinden's attitude that the dead don't tell tales, so she could tell me these tales since I'd only be taking them beyond the event horizon, and just as soon as the work was done on the gig. I, of course, didn't believe that, and tried hard not only to keep this skepticism from showing, but also that I was growing ever more attracted to her.
In my years aboard the Lost Star/Starry Shore, the crew had been family. In that respect, we were more like a small, family run planet or drifteer trader than tramp freighter. These relationships, however, were set and rarely changed, since there was so little turnover in the crew. And, as captain, I was not in a position to form any special or romantic relationship. When Min was aboard, I occasionally allowed myself to daydream a little romance, but no more than daydream. This, however, was very different. Very different indeed. I found the prospect of living in such close proximity with a very attractive, if dangerous, woman pleasantly unsettling. And, as I mentioned, discovering that she wasn't a cold-blooded killer by trade had - for better or worse - removed the last barrier to falling in love with Naylea Cin. Her decision to open up about herself, even a little, only made any further resistance a slippery slope, especially since we passed two days living and working together in easy harmony. I didn't presume a new relationship, and she still muttered veiled threats from time to time, but they had become almost a joke, even to her. By the time we hit the island, I was convinced we could be partners.
We were lucky that we were dozing in our hammocks when the gig hit the island. The shell of the gig rang as we were driven aground, cushioned, however, by our trailing tail of vines. The hammocks cushioned the blow and kept us from being flung about the boat as it and our tumbleweed island bounced and rolled over the ground. This may've lasted only ten seconds before we came to an abrupt halt.
I exchanged a glance with Cin, waiting to see where the large rock somewhere in the vines would come to a rest.
After several seconds had passed without it landing on us, we let out our held breaths.
'Aground,' she said.
'And in one piece, I said as we swung out of our hammocks. 'We're still in free fall, so it's not a large island. Let's see if we can have a look.'
Going forward I pulled the hatch open a little. All we could see was a crush of vines and the roaring of the wind beyond them. 'It has to die down soon,' I said as I slid the hatch closed.