Work Text:
Twenty-four pens, four data pads, and a sandstone carving of a quadruped of dubious proportions had all gone mysteriously missing from my office in the last month, the shift from a life of eternally carrying anothers belongings to finally having my own (and a space to keep them) proven a blessing and a curse. My investigative nose lead me straight to the local barracks, an overreaching Quartz the most obvious culprit.
"Red, I'm telling you they didn't do it!"
"I don't care. You've got two days or I'm searching the barracks myself."
The next day her entire squad was at my front door, saluting and swearing their innocence, crowding around me. I felt stifled, and sent them away.
In my attempt to clear the over-apologetic Quartzes I turned and there she was: a Pearl right here in my office, her gem like a drop of glass, a green opposite of my own. Caught out she leapt away into the ducting, her cape flicking dust into the air behind her. I tried to follow, but didn't get far, her trail lost in the darkness. Surely this was the culprit I was after, slipping in and out without a sound, emerging unseen from the shadows of the building. But who was she? Why was she here? I pondered, and what Pearl has need of so many pens?
My investigation took me down to the archives where Cobalt Blue, another Pearl, informed me that such a gem I'd seen was rare, and all accounted for off-world. The mystery deepened.
Fortunately with a bit of convincing I was able to enlist her services for research of a more practical nature. Armed and emboldened we entered the ducting ourselves, tracking the mystery Pearl by her trail through the dirt. But how little we had understood the extent of her wanderings, every turning we found cleaned through with her back and forth. We had little choice but to methodically search each and every tunnel, painstaking work trawling miles on our hands and knees with no reward in sight.
When we heard the rattle our excitement got the better of us, caught scrambling over ourselves in our hurry. But Cobalt struck free and gave chase. Fortunately for me her trails through the archives had turned up old blueprints of these tunnels in preparation, and using the knowledge I took the parallel route to head them off, thundering through the darkness to make time to catch them both. Yet I turned the final corner to see only Cobalt in my sights. Too late I realised we'd been tricked, our own trap turned tail on us as we collided together and fell back into my office, landing heavily on my desk.
As I lay there communing with the woodwork, I realised our battle would not be won on her turf. A truce, some peace offering was required, our quarry lured in by gentle words not heavy hands. What did we know of this creature that prowled in the darkness? A Pearl without record that stole with ease.
So steal she would. Day by day I set out small trinkets, golden scraps of cloth, more pens. Each day they disappeared, and I watched, and waited, training myself to recognise her coming, spending endless hours staring at the grill above, that metal window into her world.
I often talked into the silence not knowing if she was there or not, offering conversation or understanding. I talked to her of Earth and of the rebellion, and of the days I wondered whether I should go there and see the planet that had set us free. Where words failed I tried to post messages, the long queries of her purpose quickly fading into simple greetings and all rejected, each scrap of paper returned.
Cobalt returned too, bearing news: she'd found her. An Era Two Pearl destined for an Emerald but went missing while in transit on Homeworld, written off as lost.
"She fell off the wagon, into a world where anyone and anything could happen. When your back's against the wall, you protect your gem."
Cobalt perked up. "Oh yeah, 'cus yours-"
"So you hide. So long as nobody can find you, you're safe. But it's safe now. All gems are equal, we no longer have to serve as we once did. You can make your own choice now."
I waited, hoping to garner some response but... Nothing. "You could go travelling, head off-world, visit one of the colonies or even Earth if you wanted." I watched, waiting with baited breath. "You don't have to stay here."
A rattle and a flutter above gave me little warning before the postcard dropped into my lap. On the front lush green trees and deep blue sea framed a bright beach. The back was empty, bar a short description tucked away in the corner. I recognised the lettering.
"You've been to Earth?" Her presence was the only confirmation I needed. "Yet you came back here, to this."
"Why would she do that?"
"For the same reason we never left:" I explained. "It's home."
I stood, and reached up. "Here, you should have this." I returned the card, her momento of her days on another planet. I'd barely turned my back when it came tumbling out again, this time inscribed with a single word. 'Yours'.
I stared at it long afterwards, the weight above our heads gone, this scrap of history and colour all the truce we needed. I found it remarkable that such a gem could experience such freedom and still choose the only life they'd ever known, enclosed and hidden away. But then what was it but another type of freedom? The choice itself. The secret of happiness in a single card, now 'yours'. A word and wisdom that would stay with me forever.
And as I contemplated it I came to the realisation...
We still hadn't found those pens!