Sume curled up beside Konot on the sofa in the ship’s lounge. He didn’t do more than breathe in response, still staring at something in his own mind, his body remaining at rest.

She was a lot smaller (younger) than a normal pilot, and she wasn’t fitted like a normal pilot. She wasn’t a pilot at all.

For all that, she felt his welcome thrumming inside her bones, felt the way he settled into her presence, the way he felt her and it calmed the hyperactive thought processes spinning through his brain, feedback from the ship body around them.

Sync.