A Shared Relaxation

((Cargo 3, MNS Archangel

Mendez nodded. "That is fine, dear. Check in at fourteen-hundred and it will be done and over with."

She looked around and spotted one of the comfy chairs in the hold. She gestured with a point of a finger from her full hand. "I noticed the music, is practicing going to be distracting?"

She looked at her, switching to the unaided eye. She was young and there was an almost tangible energy of blissful youth. Mendez knew she had relative youth brought on by the anagathics, a longevity of nearly unchanging state. But even with such advanced medicine, there was always something lost as the ages went by. Mendez mentally wished very briefly to have what she had, wishing to be that young and naive.

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