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"Every good boy deserves food. Are you getting this?"

Heather leapt up from where she'd been reclining with her feet on the dashboard. It was the middle of the night, they weren't supposed to be any comm transmissions. "Who is this?"

The transmission skipped and wavered "Who—Oh godammit, the frequency must have drifted again. Sorry about this, can you do me a favor though? Can you tell me how I sound?"

"I don't know, frustrated?"

"I meant signal qual—You knew that didn't you?"

Heather laughed, "I did. It sounds like your filter isn't working."

"How about now?"

"Better."

"Thanks, and sorry again about the random call in the middle of the night."

"It's fine, I was already up."

"Well, good talking to you."

The comm went silent.

Heather put her feet back up on the dashboard and went back to counting stars through the roof of the transport. It was her night to stand watch for Marauders, but it was largely precautionary. No one knew where they were, and the Marauder gangs had been almost completely decimated by the war anyway.

"Hey," The comm was much clearer this time, "I didn't get your name."

"No, you didn't."

The voice sighed, "How about a trade?"

She laughed, "Really?"

"I know, I know, I heard it as soon as I said it."

"Well, Mr. random midnight comm voice, my name is Heather."

"Nice to meet you Heather, I'm Yash."

"Nice to meet you too Yash."

"So Heather, how come you're up in the middle of the night answering questions about filters?"

"My schedule's pretty erratic, so it makes it hard to sleep sometimes." She rolled her eyes. That was a terrible lie, but it's not as though he'd have believed the truth anyway. "What about you? What do you do when you're not having awkward conversations with strange women in the middle of the night?"

He laughed, "Oh no, that's what I do. It's all awkward conversations."

"Well, Yash" she said tapping the comm halo around her neck to save his frequency, "You're officially more interesting than the nothing I had planned for the rest of the night."