Chapter Text
“I still don’t understand why .”
It is a beautiful day on Janus. All days are beautiful on Janus. Argenta scowls at her daiquiri.
“I do not see why you are making such an issue out of this,” she grumbles.
Iskra languidly stirs the cosmopolitan in front of him in its glass.
“Don’t be coy now,” he snorts, “you know very well what I think of her.”
Argenta slams her drink down onto the bar. The servitor behind it continues cleaning a glass, unperturbed.
“At least she is trying!” she huffs. “Unlike some people, who clearly strayed away from the Emperor’s path with no intention of turning back.”
Iskra gives her an unimpressed look.
“Last time I checked, it was Heydari who dealt in xenos artefacts—or has that changed?”
Argenta takes a deep breath. Iskra is one of the few people she can genuinely call a friend, and she knows that his nagging comes from a place a concern… but, by the light of the Emperor, the man is trying to remove a speck of sawdust from her eye while ignoring the plank in his own.
“By whose leave?” she presses, giving the psyker a hard look. Iskra sucks in a breath, then turns away from her.
“She tricked him into obtaining the certificate,” Iskra huffs.
Argenta firmly grasps his chin and turns his head back towards her face.
“You should really try to get to know her,” she says softly. “Jae is smart, she knows who the enemies of humanity are.”
Iskra’s expression turns sullen, but Argenta doesn’t let that deter her.
“This is more than just about her business dealings, is it not?” she asks, giving him a serious look.
Iskra shakes his head and lightly tugs at his hair. Argenta knows him long enough by now to recognize it as a sign of frustration.
“I just…” he falters for a moment, “She doesn’t seem like the kind of person to settle down.”
“Oh, Iskra…” Argenta grins and cuffs him over the head. “I know that she is not… But neither am I.”
—
“Look at them, shereen,” Jae croons, pointing towards the bar, where Iskra and Argenta are having an animated discussion. “I bet they are talking about us.”
Zlatko shakes the water out of his hair and looks down on her. She is sprawled out on a blanket, basking in the sun.
“What makes you think that?” he grunts, trying in vain not to let Iskra’s bare midriff distract him too much. Those shorts are sitting awfully low on his hips.
“Why, isn’t it obvious? Look at how flustered they are!” She laughs. Once she notices where his gaze is drawn, she gives him a lopsided smile. “Now, how about we go up there and give them something else to be flustered about?”
Zlatko grins slyly back. He likes that idea.