Eli nodded to her, picked up his bags, and entered the Huria. After the brightness of outside, the corridors seemed dim and dark; only the top-of-the-line ships ran lights at full power. Other ships were more conservative.
He made his way to his cabin. It was no bigger or smaller than the others he'd seen, the walls a serviceable plain cream, everything built in and able to be tucked away--facilities, desk, storage. The decking was a plain dark grey, mostly covered by tatami mats. His bed, slightly larger than a single, had been tucked in the corner on a platform with storage drawers, neatly made, linens and blankets plain white and brown. He liked fine sheets and covers, but he'd certainly slept in far worse before. It would do.
Eli put his luggage on the bed. He stripped out of his long coat and rolled his sleeves halfway to his elbows, loosened his tie and collar in deference to the warmth. Although he didn't go armed with gunbelt encircling his waist, holster strapped to his thigh, he certainly wasn't unarmed. He never was completely unarmed, not ever.
He slid closed the door behind him and made his way back to the loading ramp, nodding at a couple of crew members as they passed, busy. There were a rack of folding chairs, presumably for the use of the crew and guests as Miss Cardiff had one, and he took another to sit in.
She sat beneath her parasol again, eating papadums from the plate in her lap and sipping something from a glass. Eli unfolded the chair beside her and sat, angling so that he had his back to the hull of the Huria. He stretched out his long legs and raked a hand through his thick hair.
"If you've been aboard the Huria two weeks, then I'll wager you've already charmed all the secrets from the crew. So I hope you'll be kind and steer me around people or subjects I should be wary of, yes?"