The Coasts of Elesius
Steven Hawkesbury, covered with coal dust and soot, leaned heavily on his shovel. A heavily-tarnished porthole showed that the sun had finally sunk before the horizon.
"Azim?"
"Yes?"
"Do you know where we're going?"
"According to Zruyk, 'to see an old friend'."
"Yeah, but who and where-"
"Elesius." interjected Jan Mieken, a heavyset brown-haired man with specks of grey scattered through his stubble. "And our good captain is visituing Erich Bos. An old friend of his, I believe."
"Zruyk has friends?" questioned Steven. His eyes quickly darted around to make sure that the man didn't burst in, as he had a disconcerting tendency to do.
"Familiarity breeds contempt." commented Azim, "The captain only sees Bos once every few years."
Jan gave the Hadiran man an odd look, then resumed speaking.
"I wouldn't even call him a friend. The crazy old man has too much money for his own good, and Zruyk is kind enough to drain off the excess now and then. You should see what the man will pay for some products from back home."
"So, how far is it to Elius-"
"Elesius." Azim corrected, though his voice was drowned out by the creaking of a door. Robert Van der Zruyk stepped into the room.
"Ey! On the engines. We're coming into harbour and the currents here are hell."
"Yes sir, we were-"
"Hawkesbury! Two moons boy, less talking. More shoveling!"
The three sailors quickly went back to the boilers. Zruyk chewed on his pipe for a moment, giving them a suspicious look, then stepped back through the door and climbed back to the deck.