Fiorella nodded towards the airlock leading to her ship and offered him an encouraging smile, her white teeth gleaming.
"Then let's go."
She added with her deep, melodious voice and proceeded through the transitional chamber to her personal vessel, Amalfi. From inside the Barrier Gate Station, the entrance to her ship seemed ordinary and mundane. However, once aboard, the atmosphere shifted. Though the outer compartments of Fiorella's personal yacht did not differ much from other space vessels with their metallic and polymeric interiors, a closer look revealed precisely fitted and tightened panels, neatly aligned cables, and not a single screw missing from any installed devices. Damien could feel his footsteps on the Outcast vessel were silenced, with no vibrations transmitted to the ship's interior.
The sensation was surreal, inhuman. The Outcasts dedicated attention to detail in their ship constructions unmatched anywhere else in Sirius. The main reason for this needed to be more definitively and academically answered, though they often spoke of a more sophisticated perception of reality than ordinary humans could comprehend. There was little point in asking – Damien did not know what his perception lacked compared to his lover, and Fiorella could not articulate it in human terms even if she wished to; such words simply did not exist.
Soon, they passed the external spaces of Amalfi, deeper into the inner citadel, where the crew quarters were located – shielded by the ship's strongest armor. A stark comparison to the outer bulkheads, which were typically depressurized during normal operations to prevent fires and the spread of pressure waves and were only inhabited by remotely controlled industrial automatons of all kinds and sizes – from humanoid robots for general maintenance to specialized robotic arms for precision work and heavy duty labor.
Heavy doors closed and locked behind Damien, revealing the livable part of the ship, exuding a cozy and tasteful atmosphere. The walls were lined with varnished synthetic wood panels in dark shades, which, unlike regular wood, were utterly non-flammable. They were interspersed with protruding metallic structural bulkheads. The lighting on the ship was in warm, soft yellow hues for maximum visual comfort of the crew, and they maintained the temperature at 18°C with 55% humidity. Damien had to strain his hearing to catch the distant, now isolated engines gaining power as Amalfi moved away from the station.
Fiorella, the ship's owner and guide, led him to the guest cabin, reminiscent of a smaller luxury apartment like those seen on Orbital Spa & Cruise liners, and furnished in the same style as the rest of the ship and in his cabin awaited a comfortably appearing bed with red satin bedding, a work desk with an ergonomic chair, a small kitchenette, a bathroom with an integrated toilet, and finally a wide-screen display opposite the bed, covering 3/4 of the opposite wall. A wardrobe, seamlessly blending with the apartment's wall, had a white shirt and black casual, relaxed-style pants prepared for him, as well as a blue men's robe hanging on the bathroom door, several towels, and other hygienic necessities.
"I believe you will have a pleasant stay here - after all, we know how to care for our valued guests."
Fiorella turned to him and spread her arms wide, highlighting the apartment's amenities. Amalfi was more than just a space vessel - it was a home, and the interior more than matched its purpose.
