Voices of a Mirror
The airlock hatch hisses, thunks, and slides open to reveal a pair of eight-foot-tall Hekayti, their bald blue-skinned heads spiky with bone ridges. Their hooves clomp on the deckplates as they move into the cramped airlock of the Llivori freighter. The leader eyes the small human hand poking toward him. He says something to his partner in Hekayan. His partner guffaws loudly, thumping a fist against his chest in amusement. Finally, the leader regards Akamatsu with something that might be construed as condescencion and says, in broken Terran Standard: "Boxes. Fast-fast."
Hal'gus stands vigilant, though more literally sitting back against the crate he's guarding with the bill of his cap pulled down over his face and his rifle leaning against his shoulder. A heavy brow raises somewhat as he follows Akamatsu out of the corner of his eye. "Hmpf. Biggerun. No-one jobified' 'im as firstalker. Problificatin', mayhap."
Altor settles in near the docked ships, doing a slow steady circuit around them as the deal goes down, his sensors keeping an eye out for any potential interlopers.
Akamatsu leads the Hekayti toward the boxes they are allowed to take making sure his hand is on his hilt without being to obvious incase it is needed.
"You do speak rather oddly." Anshera drawls down to Hal'gus, the fey child leaning over the side of her crate a bit to get a better view of him. After a moment she breaks view of the Halaghi, to instead peer towards the oncoing Hekayti.
Griss stays at the communication console. As long as there's nothing else that needs his attention, the Grimlahdi passes time by scanning for any nearby comm signals, trying to listen in for anything out of the ordinary.
"Careful," the leader grunts at his companion in Hekayan as they wander into the cargo hold after Akamatsu. "He might scratch you with that toy blade of his." Then his eyes fix on the extremely hairy-looking Hal'gus. "So much weakness." His companion nods in agreement, then moves to take the crate upon which Anshera is sitting.