Chapter Four

  Meeting the Client**

  Kael liked to think of himself as a reasonably confident person. Not overly bold, not painfully shy—just a solid, dependable middle gear.

  But walking into Nettle Station’s administrative hub for their first professional client meeting?

  That made his stomach perform a series of quiet but pointed acrobatics.

  Kessa, by contrast, walked with the swagger of someone who had never once doubted she could talk her way out of anything short of atmospheric re-entry.

  Gribble Sundown bounced ahead of them, bubble-helmet squeaking faintly every time they turned their head. “Your client will be so excited! They love new haulers. Says it keeps the supply chain ‘fresh.’”

  Kessa whispered, “What does that even mean?”

  Kael whispered back, “I don’t know and I don’t want to.”

  Gribble led them to a small office door marked:

  “RESEARCH COOPERATIVE – Nettle Seed Division” Please knock. No shouting. Experiments may be shy.

  Kessa pointed. “Shy experiments?”

  Kael’s stomach tightened. “Let’s just… hope they’re not alive.”

  Gribble tapped the door with their knuckles. “Delivery for you! Two bright-eyed haulers, four crates of seeds, mild sibling tension, and good manners!”

  A muffled voice called, “Come in!”

  The door slid open.

  Inside sat a slender woman with light brown skin, dark curly hair frizzed from static, and a lab coat covered in faint green smudges. She had the air of someone who spent a lot of time talking to plants and very little time talking to humans.

  She looked up from her console.

  “Oh! You must be the Hartleys!” Her voice was musical and earnest, the kind of voice that made everything sound like a pleasant surprise. “I’m Dr. Elyra Voss.”

  Kessa nudged Kael. “See? Normal client.”

  Elyra brightened. “Well… mostly normal. Depends on the experiment cycle.”

  Kael’s stomach dropped again.

  Elyra stood and offered her hand. Kael shook it. “You’re our first delivery,” he said, trying not to sound nervous.

  “And you’re my favorite haulers already.” Elyra beamed. “Anyone who gets Gribble’s stamp of approval is basically family.”

  Gribble clasped their hands under their chin. “Awwwww!”

  Kael pretended he didn’t feel warmed by that.

  Inspection of the Crates

  Elyra pulled up the manifest on her data pad. “Four crates. Basil, radish variants, lettuce strains… and the kale. Wonderful!”

  Kessa blinked. “You’re excited about the kale?”

  “Oh stars, yes! Kale Plus has twice the growth rate of standard kale and three times the enthusiasm.”

  Kael frowned. “Enthusiasm…?”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  But Elyra was already walking toward the crates, waving them to follow.

  Gribble hummed happily behind them like an escorting parade balloon.

  They stopped at the lined-up cargo, where Elyra knelt beside the “vibrating” basil crate and pressed her ear to it.

  She nodded, satisfied. “Ah yes. Good. This one is… eager.”

  Kael whispered, “Why does she talk like that?”

  Kessa whispered back, “I think it’s adorable. Like if a botanist and a kindergarten teacher had a baby.”

  Elyra opened crate three with practiced ease. Kessa leaned forward, eager to see what experimental plants looked like.

  Inside were sealed nutrient pouches, roots suspended in shimmering hydro-gel. They were colorful, vibrant, and—thank the stars—not moving.

  Elyra clapped once, delighted. “Perfect condition!”

  Kael felt tension ease off his shoulders. Their first delivery—validated.

  She moved to the basil crate.

  Gribble whispered, “This is the fun one.”

  Kessa smirked. “Define fun.”

  Elyra popped the latch, lifted the lid—and a puff of cool air escaped with a soft whumpf.

  The basil plants shivered inside like tiny green fans.

  Kessa squeaked and jumped back. “NOPE—nope nope nope. Plants should not do that.”

  Elyra waved her hands soothingly. “It’s just temperature acclimation. They like dramatic entrances.”

  Kael blinked. “Why do most things we encounter have personalities?”

  “Because you’re Hartleys,” Gribble said, as if this explained everything.

  Snack Diplomacy

  Elyra finished her inspection with a content sigh. “Everything looks wonderful. Thank you both so much. Payment was transferred?”

  “Confirmed,” Kael said.

  Kessa added, “And we didn’t open any crates that weren’t meant to be opened.”

  Kael glared. “That is not a detail we needed to divulge.”

  Elyra smiled warmly. “You two remind me of my siblings.”

  Kessa brightened. “Are they also awesome?”

  “Oh no,” Elyra said. “They argue constantly and ruin my kitchen every festival.”

  Kessa grinned. “Ah. Yes. That tracks.”

  Elyra clapped her hands suddenly. “Snacks!”

  Kael felt a small piece of his soul wither.

  Kessa perked up. “What?”

  “Oh yes!” Elyra said, walking to a side cabinet. “We always gift snacks to first-time haulers. A tradition. Keeps everyone friendly.”

  She returned with a small insulated bag and handed it to Kessa.

  Kessa opened it.

  Her gasp could have been recorded and sold as a motivational audio track.

  “Kael.” She held up a bar. “They have mint-chip swirl bars.”

  Kael blinked. “Those are your favorite.”

  “They are.” Her eyes narrowed dramatically. “And if you ever touch one, I will launch you out the airlock.”

  Elyra looked concerned. “Is that… a joke?”

  Kael sighed. “With her? Hard to tell.”

  Gribble nodded sagely. “Families communicate in many forms.”

  A New Opportunity

  As the twins gathered their data pads and prepared to leave, Elyra hesitated.

  “There is… one more thing.”

  Kael tensed. “A problem with the shipment?”

  “Oh no! Not at all.” She offered a shy smile. “I have another contract coming up. Short-distance. Simple. And I’d love to hire you two again.”

  Kessa lit up like someone plugged her into a power cell. “YES.”

  Kael cleared his throat. “We’d be happy to look at the details.”

  Elyra’s smile widened. “Wonderful. I’ll send it this evening.”

  The twins exchanged a look—shared excitement, shared nerves, shared certainty that they wanted this life.

  Gribble beamed at all three of them. “This is going to be so much fun!”

  Kael laughed softly. “Fun,” he repeated. “Yeah. I think it will be.”

  The Wayward Starling awaited them in the dock like a patient old friend, humming quietly under the station lights.

  Their first job was done. Their first client was delighted. And their second contract was already hovering on the horizon like a rising star.

  Kessa nudged her brother. “See? We’ve totally got this.”

  Kael looked at her, at the Starling, at the station bustling around them.

  And—for the first time since inheriting the ship—he truly believed it.

  “Yes,” he said softly. “We do.”