KISMET ─ vento aureo.

▹ FIVE ;

☆ ⁺ « 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒

★˚⋆ YOU HESITATED BEFORE KNOCKING ON the door to Fugo's room. Even after being on your crew for so long, you didn't know how to approach Fugo when he got like this. He was the hardest of the crew to read. He might appear outwardly calm, but his temper was always simmering under the surface; ready to boil over without your noticing.

"It's me," you said to the door. "Can I come in?"

Fugo's door didn't budge. You knocked again, feet already turned to leave. You might be the Captain, but if your crew didn't want to speak to you, you wouldn't force them.

You despised forcing your crew to do anything.

The door stayed closed. Your heart sank, although you couldn't be surprised. Later then. Hopefully Fugo would come out once the Passione made it onto the ferry and you could talk to him then.

As you turned your back, however, Fugo's door slid open, the sound they made almost like a sigh. You looked back, waiting for the door to slide back closed. When it didn't, you took a few steps inside and stood awkwardly by the door, not wanting to make yourself comfortable if Fugo didn't want you to. The door closed behind you.

Fugo's room on the Passione was spartan. It had been that way even before you'd started selling things. There had been little Fugo found important enough from his old life to bring aboard, and even now, there was little he liked or cared enough about to furnish his room. You liked to think that Fugo found that importance in the people he surrounded himself with, but you were idealistic and who really knew Fugo's interior design preferences but himself?

Other than the cot pushed against the back wall and dresser, there was only a white desk and chair.

Fugo didn't look up from his desk. He had a blueprint projected into the air from his holopad, the image rotating as he considered it. You couldn't make out his face from where you stood. Only the edges of his dark blonde hair tinted blue by the hologram.

"Captain," he said, without turning around. His voice was flat. "Is something wrong with the ship? The thrusters should be holding out, but if the engine is weak, there's not a lot I can do."

"The ship is fine. We'll make it to the Ferry."

Fugo grunted. He zoomed in on the blueprint, highlighting a part of its flank. These weren't the schematics for the Passione. You wondered what he was working on.

"Can we talk?" you said.

"About Zero?"

"I know you don't agree with the plan, but I was hoping I could convince you otherwise."

Fugo turned around then. It was hard to see him in the gloom, but there was enough light for you to see his crew jacket open at the collar and the smooth line of his throat. His face was pensive, the way it always was. His solemnity was as much a feature of him as his downturned mouth and perpetually wary eyes. His gravity kept your crew grounded, but not for the first time, you wondered what would happen if Fugo let loose.

"There's nothing to say. You've already decided to go."

"Why are you so against it?" you asked softly. "Besides the obvious. You could argue we've been through a lot worse for a lot less. And we're not agreeing to anything with Zero yet. We're just going to feel things out."

"But why take the risk at all?" Fugo frowned. "There's no failure in this, Captain. Either we get what he wants, or we die. I don't understand why we're going to Zero when there are a dozen other—safer—people in the galaxy we can barter with."