Archive of Our Own

Sol awakens– indolently coming to terms with consciousness and fighting with the tangled sheet he’d thrashed in overnight in the high heat. Once he’d dealt the coup de grace he was free to roll over and sit up in his bed. As he rubs the last of the sleep from his eyes he feels surprisingly well rested, despite the thrashing and in contrast to the morning before.

Making his way out to the balcony in his pajamas, he checks his holopalm for messages. It wasn’t uncommon to receive messages at odd hours since his friends cover a wide range. Such was the case with Tang– something about Cal contaminating some soil samples by not washing his hands after collecting a different sample but otherwise being fine to work with. Likewise, Nomi Nomi had updated him on their Helio fans. An attached image shows a lovingly sketched scene of a vaguely familiar Garrison-uniformed individual playing with a Xeno companion.

And, there was a far earlier one from Nemmie. Opening it Sol is greeted with a short, simple message

[Hey Loverboy, make sure you come see me tomorrow, ok?] Followed by the Nomi-mojis of the two of them on either side of a heart.

Sol’s eyes focus on the pair of Nomi-moji. “ That’s right. Nemmie and I are together now. “ He reminds himself, briefly replaying the events of yesterday. He replies wearing a big dumb smile.

[count on it. i’ll bring something to eat <3]

Once there were no messages left, Sol retreats inside to dress for the day.

His mind was starting to chug now, bringing about overly complicated thoughts for just having woken up. What did this… divergence from known experience mean? Whatever the… ‘gift’ the wormhole inflicted on him, it was surely frustrating to deal with at times. As Sol ran the gamut of experiences through his life, his recollection of events often failed him in their imprecision. He could always remember critical things: Saving Tammy, the location of the sponge cake moss, the details to the Shimmer cure, and Dys’... call it protesting . But when it came to less critical things, it was like he could only get a more powerful impression; he barest vibes of what a person might feel or do. 

He and Nemmie were a couple, that’s great– but also… this wasn't how it usually happened. And worse yet it seemed somehow to be interfering with Sol’s recollection. I mean, he’d even forgotten what sort of cheese Nemmie liked. Ok maybe that’s small beans; not worth worrying about. But what if more new things started happening? Was that really such a terrible thing? New things used to happen to him all the time, what’s the difference now? Sol reached for a fly that wasn’t present.

He’d put his pants on backwards.

To be sure, he’d thought he’d seen and experienced it all, and should have been able to just… well, rest. Instead of choosing to ‘go around one more time’, he should have been able to just cease to be. But the thought of no longer living with his friends always filled him with some amount of potential heartache at the final moment of decision.

But now something new- even if it were relatively small in the grand tapestry- was unfolding in front of him. It was intriguing. It was scary. It was exciting.

“ Maybe this isn’t bad. “ he thought, righting his pants and continuing to get ready while thoughts of possibility and grand, infinite experience suffused his mind.

Sol found himself standing in the kitchen with half a glass of floatcow milk in hand before the world came back into focus. He paused for a moment, reflecting with uncertainty whether he had already drunk any of it, or had only filled it that far. He couldn’t make out any signs one way or the other as he examines the glass before placing it on the table and resting his arms and head down with it. 

“  Without conscious knowledge of the events of the glass’ past, I am empowered to determine what the glass means… Half full? Or half empty?  ”

Increasingly aware now that he was being silly Sol picks up the milk and sent it off, turning then to preparing lunch for himself and his girlfriend. Again, his collected culinary skill allows him to complete the task almost on autopilot.

Placing a dabba filled with dumplings safely atop the still-warm stove, Sol takes a seat, and opens his holopalm to a reply from Nemmie.

[Ooh! I see a personal chef is still in the cards!]

Sol smiles to himself, and asks when he should swing by, not wanting to interrupt her duties, then flicks over to respond to Tang and Nomi in turn.

A new message pinged from Nemmie, surprising him in the midst of congratulating Nomi. He was ready to have to wait, but this was unusually prompt.

[Just come by whenever you want to. I have a surprise for you .]

Sol laughs to himself, already concerned with enough unknowns in his life at the moment. He takes the time to reply to his other friends before slipping his shoes on and retrieving the dabba, making for the door to journey into the oppressive heat of Vertumna’s multiple suns.

A similar routine of greeting all the friends he sees follows, some intrigued by the contents of his dabba, and questioning to that effect. He tells them all the same thing “food for my boo.” and mischievously scurries away from the ballooning curiosity he’s sown.

When he arrives at the Garrison, he sees a squad of recruits doing field exercises, assorted sprints and circuits, though they are uncharacteristically sloppy in the doing. It's clear Anemone isn’t there, as the flare of orange hair is not visible among them. As he draws closer, intent to ask their current leader where he might find his girlfriend, he notes that some of the exceptionally sweaty and miserably hot people ARE in Anemone’s squad.

“Hey there, can I ask-” Sol edged in gently.

“SIR!” The drill lead shouted, turning and saluting Sol. Being made to remember now that he did still hold a high rank, unfortunately not being made to remember the lead’s name. Sol waves off the gesture.

“Um, at ease. Do you know where Anemone is?” He asks sheepishly.

“She’s inside. She was assigned to lead the drills this morning, but delegated to me as soon as she arrived.” A small look of worry flashes across their face as they explain, their quick glance about the suffering soldiers reveals the cause.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Sol put a hand onto the anxious soldier’s shoulder. “I think this group could probably use a break, looks like they’ve been at it all morning.” Realization cleaves through the contorted look of worry on the soldier’s face.

His feet carry him toward the Garrison proper. Unified groans of relief are the last sound he hears as the overdone exercise halts at the leader’s apologetic rest order.

Relief washes coolly over his skin as the shaded, sleek and well maintained interior of the Garrison covers Sol’s sun-warmed skin. Despite his efforts to appear as a regular person, he can’t seem to avoid the smattering of salutes his unofficially-abandoned post affords. Sol thought for sure when he stopped showing up they would just wipe his rank, but apparently a high ranking member willingly abandoning the Garrison was poor optics. Sol supposed it was probably better for them if they just left his rank intact so it appeared as though no one left.

It’s when Sol enters the Xeno study pens that he sees Anemone. It strikes him as a little odd; this isn’t typically an area that Nemmie frequented when he was around more often. It follows, though, that Nemmie would avoid close proximity to Xenos if she had a choice. The memory of the root cause of that avoidant behaviour scratches across his whole body and mind like unseen thorns. Sol takes a few breaths to clear the painful memory as he watches Nemmie looking at a captive Hopeye idly puttering about its transparent ceramic enclosure. Sol grims briefly at the state of the enclosure, more akin to an old-Earth barn than any attempt to mirror a Hopeye’s natural habitat. But his expression softens again as he looks to Nemmie.

The glances of her face Sol manages to catch reveal a further-unexpected calm, thoughtful expression on her face. There’s a pervasive curiosity to why she’s doing this at all, compounded by the fact that she’d come to do this instead of leading drills; a responsibility he knew she enjoyed. The thought tumbles about his mind a bit before he decides to approach.

Nemmie hears his footsteps and turns to greet him.

“Hey, you.” she sweetly greets with a songful lilt and warm smile, placing a loving hand on his arm.

“I brought lunch,” he lifts the container aloft “I don’t know if I made enough for your friend here though.” He jokes, gesturing to the Hopeye cleaning itself inside its container.

The small joke lands in honey-sweet giggles and Sol swells at their sound.

“That’s alright, I’d much rather eat outside anyhow.”

She strides over to him and pauses, waiting for him to walk beside her.

“You’re free right now?” Sol double checks, unfamiliar with her being so unoccupied and available.

“Yep! Now come on! I got a spot picked out for us and there’s still the surprise .” she teases, checking her shoulder into his. Eventually he's led back out into the sweltering heat, then blissfully to a shaded area nearby the Sportsball pitch. Even if the ground isn’t the same plot the old pitch was on, the sight is still nostalgic and comforting for them both.

Sol unpacks the dabba, placing the lunch he’d made between them and sitting down on the cool, deeply coloured grass. Nemmie quickly sends off a dumpling in dangerously few bites and nabs another. She hasn’t said anything since they sat but her eyes are on him at his every nervous shuffle. She pauses occasionally, hanging Sol on the suspense before finishing her second dumpling. 

“So…”

“Hm?” Nemmie murmurs, her mouth full.

“Oh they’re really tasty! Thought that went without saying.” She manages to say past her half-chewed bite. Her big, dumb grin giving away her game.

“Oh alright!” She swallows forcefully and wipes her hand on her pants. Turning a bit toward Sol she begins. “I’ve made a… decision. And I’d like your help with something.”

“Of course, anything at all.” Sol readily agrees, unconcerned with specifics.

“I’m…” she fidgets a bit, tucking her hair behind her ear only for it to rebelliously unfurl itself once left alone.

“I’m going to take some time away from the Garrison.” She pauses, bracing behind a wince for whatever reaction there may be. Sol’s face pulls taut in surprise. That is the last thing he was expecting. He apparently does a bad job of managing the shock of it on his face, as Nemmie’s tone becomes more nervous as she continues.

“Yeah- uh, I think maybe it might be good to get away from it for a bit.” there’s a slight uncertainty and apprehension to her words. And her head and eyes drift and stoop downward with every other word

“I thought that maybe I could tag along with you? I mean if you were ok with it- if it’s weird or clingy I get that but-”

“Nemmie-” Sol cuts in, trying both to reign in his expression and to interrupt her awkward backpedalling.

“-Yes?” She shoots up eagerly, making eye contact again.

“I’d be happy to have you with me, no matter what.” He places a hand on her thigh, which Nemmie reflexively places her own hand upon.

“But- I just… want to be sure that you’re doing this for you. ”

Nemmie seems caught off by his statement.

“Well- I’m not going to say that I wouldn’t like spending all that time with you." Her free hand rubs the back of her neck. And she again finds it hard to keep her gaze amid her emphatic head-bobbing and swaying.

"I was going over it earlier when you found me actually: thinking about why I wanted to do this.” Her hand squeezes him.

“I miss everyone. I thought about Marz after you mentioned her yesterday. The Secret Funtimes Club- I got all weepy thinking about it and how… things–” The same thorns as earlier graze against the both of them. His hand works against her leg to comfort her as they weather the shared pain.

“How things pulled me away from you guys.” She finishes bravely.

“And then I joined the Garrison and Vace happened…" Her voice trails off again to avoid lingering on the unpleasant memories of her past relationship. "But, since you see everyone; like you make it a point to talk to all of us, I was hoping to come with you. I uh- I can’t promise I’ll be useful. Like in engineering or anything, but I’ll try my best not to be a bother!”

“Nemmie…” Sol finds himself unable to speak right past the swell in his heart and has to collect himself. Sol’s gaze locks with Nemmie’s as she steadies, and he lets himself see her conviction and hope in her eyes, letting it be his as well.

“I’d be happy to bring you with me. If this is what you want to do, then it’s what I want too. I’ll support you.” He declares. The complete sincerity in his eyes piercing deep into her own

It’s due to this eye contact that Sol can see hers start to water. She smiles, dabs at them with the heel of her palm and leans forward, pressing her forehead into him. A kiss planted on the top of her head sends warm tingles through her, and he wraps her in a firm hug.

Sol allows as much time as Nemmie wants to pass in his embrace. When she does withdraw, she’s no longer tearing up. As Sol’s hand slips over her, she catches and clasps it to place a kiss on the back.

“Thank you. I knew you would help, but it still means so much to hear out loud.” She softly states, adjusting her seating and stretching her back out of the awkward position she’d been in.

The pair go back and forth on the remaining dumplings, Sol points out with mock petulance when it’s down to the sole survivor that Nemmie had already eaten two by the time Sol got his first. Nemmie offers to fight for it, but in the time it takes for her to explain the challenge, Sol has nabbed the morsel and bitten it so it hangs comedically half in and half out of his mouth. In a dramatised outrage, Nemmie holds him fast at his shoulders and takes as big a bite as possible of the exposed half, scraping Sol’s lips with her teeth just a bit but mostly making them both nearly choke laughing for their foolishness.

Once they've collected themselves and the threat of asphyxiation is cleared and swallowed without issue, Sol wipes his mouth and asks Nemmie for her thoughts.

"So where do you want to start? I take it that Expeditions aren't your first choice." He teases, Nemmie gives an exaggerated eye-roll.

"Look, I just… I'll DO expeditions. But– well I was thinking of starting with Marz. She sorta sparked this whole thing. Plus, I can probably manage working at the depot, can't be that hard if they still let her do it.” Nemmie jokes. Marz is famous for being a pretty lax worker, afterall. Far more likely to pass tasks off to others, as Sol can personally attest. “And she's– second to you, maybe the one to talk to the most people." Nemmie continues, fidgeting a bit as she does.

"If I can convince her to give me another chance maybe it'll make it easier to get everyone to like me again." With her words all but a whisper, she casts her gaze downward. The sentiment bothers Sol, pricking his heart and bleeding frustration at the insecurity plaguing his partner.

"Anemone, you shouldn’t think like that." The dual klaxon of his firm tone and abandoning of her nickname startles Nemmie a little, she turns in surprise to Sol. His face is wrought with pained concern but his eyes are firm and unwavering as they look into hers.

There was admittedly a moment of panic. Nemmie wasn't sure if she'd done something wrong and upset Sol without meaning to. She was so used to avoiding saying anything to upset Vace, and for a brief moment feared that same outcome. But Sol isn’t Vace, and his encouragement realizes itself as he speaks.

"I get that you feel like you're an outsider, but if you treat yourself like one, the most you'll be doing is chasing acceptance and approval. That isn't fair to anyone. You’re a lovely person, and a good friend, you don’t need to win anyone over." Sol's voice creaks and buckles at times, but he manages the words despite it.

“Marz will be happy just to spend time with you again. They all will. They just miss you. I know it.” Sol finishes, the conviction in his words a balm to her own self-doubt.

Nemmie sniffles, managing not to shed more tears. She steels herself and nods. "Ok. You're right. They're my friends. I just have to… come back." She tries to sound confident and ignore the worry still present, but it’s difficult. Her belief kept out by the fear that her zealous devotion to the Garrison and apparent betrayal of the Strato for the Helios has poisoned those relationships. And that she foolishly did it to herself by ascribing to the jingoistic beliefs of–

" That's my girl!" Sol exclaims, enthusiastically wrapping his arms around her and planting several kisses onto her head through her mess of curls. She feels warmth rush to her cheeks, surprised by how much she likes the sound of that.

"  Ok, maybe I can believe in it a little bit…  "

-ooo-

Sol and Nemmie chat back and forth walking through the Colony on the way to command. Sol mainly details what to expect from the Depot. And how to avoid Seeq’s ornery managing, though for the most part that's redundant– they all learned as children that Seeq was unpleasant at the best of times, though no doubt effective in their role. Amid the primer, Nemmie interjects with comments and anecdotes of the Garrison’s dealings with the Depot. Including once nearly ordering ‘10 plaid-rifles’ due to a typo, though Nemmie never went to mentioning who made the mistake. With the majority of the basics covered, the conversation turns to Marz and Rex, the main ‘working’ bodies in the Depot.

"So are Rex and Marz together ? I’ve seen them together a lot." Nemmie leans into Sol's view to ask, filling time as they walk toward the Depot.

"Well, yes and no.” Nemmie’s eyebrow raises. “They both still go for other folks as well. But they make a good pair, and it’s rare to see them apart for very long. They just don’t really go in for monogamy." Once he’s finished explaining, Nemmie gives a soft ‘hm’ and the conversation quiets. Sol turns to look at her. She's clearly in thought so he waits a moment. When she doesn't say anything, he prompts her.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Hm? Oh, uh. I mean I know it’s only been a day, but you talking about their relationship made me think about ours, I guess." Her muddled expression doesn't give much hint to how he should respond.

“What do you mean? Like if we’re monogamous?” The question is meant to be an innocent joke, but as first responses go, it couldn't be dumber. Nemmie stops walking, and Sol makes an impressive 3 steps on just one foot, the other having been shoved deep into his mouth.

“I– I mean yeah I guess. But I meant like, are we telling people?” She hesitates a beat before asking “Do you… have a problem being monogamous?” Her expression is notably more concerned now. The front-loaded question puts his already dangerously overwarm brain in the hot seat.

Sol works to extricate said foot from his mouth. Nervously blurting a clarification and catching his breath to say “I’ve got all I could ever need in you.” It's the truth. In any life, he always feels that fact of their profound love, no matter the relationship they have. He knows he's spent portions of his many lives with others, and been happy. But there is nothing he had from any other that he has ever lacked in his lives and love with her. Of course only he knew that. That cosmic, meta-present fact being absent from his statement leaves him to sound to her more like a cheesy line in a gushy romance novella.

Nemmie can’t contain a snorted laugh, or hide the blush his overt admission of love brings to her face. “Come on Sol, we’ve been together one day. It’s a bit early to be so mushy, don’t you think?” She kids, if only to avoid sentimental overwhelm. She hits him playfully on his side as she strides past him, unable to really contest the mushiness of his statement, he resigns and turns to walk with her. Reaching for her hand as he catches up, he takes it and laces their fingers. Thankfully, that’s a level of whelm she can happily handle.

Eager to reclaim ground after his earlier misstep, Sol tells her “As for the other thing, I have no problems with everyone knowing I'm lucky enough to be dating the most amazing girl on Vertumna.” Sol fiddles a bit with his grip, wanting it to be firm enough to solidify the gesture, and loose enough in case she decides she wants to be more private about their relationship. Instead, her hand tightens on his, as his does hers in-turn.

“I’d better be the only one you're dating!” She asserts. “I’m also the toughest girl on Vertumna, and I don’t think I want to share you.” 

Certain that she’s being playful, Sol doesn’t mind playing along. “I don’t know, I think Utopia could give you a run for your money.”

"Hmmm, it could be bloody. She goes toe-to-toe with Bushbubs, Manticores and Unisaurs…" Nemmie says, thoughtfully thumbing the scales on her jaw.

Worried for Utopia being misrepresented, Sol timidly corrects her. "Um well, we actually try to go toe-to-toe as little as possible. Utopia’s isn't some old-timey game hunter. I just mean she’s a capable person is all.

"Oh, all the Garrison soldiers who've gone on Expeditions talk about it like it's hunting." She responds in minor confusion. 

"That's–  Ugh, that IS hunting. But… well, Utopia doesn't do that. And I don't either." Sol has difficulty containing his bitter feelings on that intentionally violent and disruptive practice. Nemmie responds by squeezing that frustration out of him via their interlocked hands.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." She says, leaning her head against his.

They're nearing command now, so Sol tries to wrap up the topic amicably. The last thing he wants is for this to be misconstrued as a fight.

"It's ok. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just… I hope I get the chance to show you what Expeditions are really like. What Vertumna is really like."

Rather than give any suggestion of whether she’ll go on Expeditions, Nemmie turns to Sol and gives him a warm smile, as the doors of Command whoosh open and allow them into the temperature-controlled, and almost overly sanitized space.

“Oh.” Sol pauses a few steps away from the Depot proper to give one last heads-up. “I don’t know how much you’ve heard about Rex– he’s a super sweet guy, if a little… forward, let’s say. But if you don’t like something he’s doing, just let him know, he’s quick to adjust.” 

Shortly after they enter the depot, Rex is within sight and notices them, perking up as though he’d noticed a small critter. He quite irresponsibly; albeit predictably, drops the boxes of miscellanea, shouts after and runs to hug Sol. As the two young men collide, Nemmie jolts back a little, surprised at the suddenness of the impact.

“Hey bud! How’s it hanging?” Rex greets with a beaming smile on his face, if he did have a tail, it would almost certainly be going a mile a minute. Rex turns to look at Nemmie, and they are both thrust into the delicate and awkward position of how to acknowledge the reason they know of the other or whether to address it at all. Rex only knows Nemmie as a Strato who joined the Garrison and dated his tormentor. Nemmie only knows Rex as a Helio who eschewed the militarist nature of the Helios and was tormented by her ex.

After a suspended moment of no one saying anything and instead exchanging blank looks, Sol places his hand on Nemmie’s shoulder. “If you guys haven’t been properly introduced before, this is Anemone. Anemone, this is Basorexia.”

“I’ve seen you ‘round, call me Rex! Um, would you like a hug as well?” Rex offers, wanting not to be rude to an apparent friend of Sol’s.

Not wanting to make a bad personal impression, Nemmie accepts.“Sure, I gue–.” Rex cuts Nemmie off by pulling her into a big hug. “ HNNG! You can call me Nemmie, or Nem, either’s fine.” She adds, her voice straining a tad under the pressure of Rex’s hug. She’s down to patting his arm in return, as hers are pinned to her side.

“Dang Nem you are built! No, scratch that, you are sculpted , it’s like hugging a statue!” Rex leans in to look at the scales on her face, then down to her midriff, causing her to bristle at the proximity. “And are these scales? They’re beautiful! Sol, how come you have so many gorgeous friends?” Rex asks with his trademark wolfish smile. Nemmie’s face goes red and she flashes a look to Sol. He shrugs and gives a ‘stop’ gesture to remind her.

“I uh, I appreciate the compliments, but could you maybe… tone it back?” Nemmie asks Rex, who takes a step back and apologizes.

“Oop, sorry! My bad, I meet new people, get excited and just forget my manners sometimes. Thanks for the heads up.”

By this time, Sol’s checking the rest of the visible space for any sign of Marz, not quite sure if she isn’t in the immediate area, or just not visible due to the high-stacked boxes of supplies. When he hones back in on the two he’s stood next to he catches just the end of Nemmie’s sentence.

“-lot all at once is all, no harm done.”

“I getcha, I getcha. So what brings you guys by?” Rex asks, looking between the two of them.

Sol’s going to answer, but Nemmie beats him to it, evidently feeling a little more comfortable with Rex. “We came here to see Marz, actually. And to uh, help out if we can, right Sol?”

“Yeah! Say, where is Marz?” Sol asks, not having managed to spot her even now.

“Oh she’s gone out doing deliveries. She should be back in a bit. But if you guys want, you can help me out while you wait. There are some big crates that I was supposed to move but, honestly–” Rex gives a quick, provocative flex before adding “I prefer that these muscles be mostly for show haha pleasehelpme. ” 

Nemmie chuckles and pats Rex's shoulder. "Lead the way, I'm sure we can handle it."

Rex leads the pair past the box of dropped items, stepping over them with near complete disregard, and into the rear of the building to the loading bay where some half-dozen crates measuring more than a square metre lay in three doubled-up stacks making it difficult even to just unpack the top crates first. The bay is tidy- ish the main loading and unloading area being kept clear in case anything needed to come or go. But the space against walls and any unfortunate area unlikely to be used was fair game to stack forgotten orders, empty crates, and old or broken equipment no one had bothered to break down for recycling. Over all, the space gives an air of being distinctly maintained by teenagers.

"I can see why you had trouble." Nemmie comments flatly.

"How did Seeq expect you to move these by yourself?" Sol asks in disbelief, rounding the crates trying to get any indication of how to handle them.

"I don't think they did. I think they just wanted something to be able to hold against me for not doing." Rex kicks the metaphorical dirt on the near spotless floor of the depot.

With a few wordless nods and gestures, Sol and Nemmie take to opposite sides of a crate With a shove, the crate grates over the one beneath it and offers some place to get a handhold. Together they heft the large crate, just to test its weight. Sol places his end back down and steps away.

“Hold up, Rex do you have any shoulder dolly’s handy?” Sol asks, flexing his wrists.

Rex nods and runs over to a corner bringing back a pair of harnesses and straps. Nemmie looks puzzled, not being used to this sort of physical toil. Sol quickly puts his on and tightens it to him, then helps Nemmie to put her own on, careful to keep her hair clear from under the harness. Sol sets his strap under his side of the crate, and Nemmie follows his lead. With their prodigious combined strength, and the aid of the straps, the pair manage to get the box down and can more comfortably open it.

Inside the crate, is a smattering of rocks, bones, shells and crystals, and all manner of other things folk might think to call junk or debris. Sol recognizes the general makeup.

“Ah, I suppose that makes sense. It’s raw material collected during expeditions. The good news is we don’t have to carry the whole thing, and it’s not going very far. Rex, would you mind getting some of the carts, please. At least three. We’ll get this separated and into the nanoprinters.”

Rex again nods and hops-to running about the depot to wrangle materials carts.

“Let’s get the other ones down to ground level.” Sol directs.

“So these crates came from Expeditions? What’s that about?” Nemmie asks as she orients her straps.

Sol aids her in hefting the second crate down to the floor, cracking it open to reveal more of the same in different quantities.

“Expeditions are about exploring and learning about Vertumna.” They set up on the last crate. “Sometimes you learn there are rocks in the Wresting Ridges that contain a lot of common minerals we use to make spoons, plasrifles and sometimes even the rarer things we use for robotics.” 

The final crate goes down, it seems like mostly plants and shells. 

“So useful stuff gets sent back here, and put into the nanoprinters.” Nemmie states, having pieced together why the crates were sent to the depot.

“That’s right. Usually they don’t get this backed up. They have the transports to bring them in, but with this much… Well it’s a good thing we were here to help Rex.” 

As if on cue, Rex returns with the carts and Marz in tow.

“Nemmie! It’s been a while! Rex says you guys wanted to see me?” She calls in her powerful and clear voice as the pair finish removing their harnesses. Nemmie hesitates just a bit, paralyzed by wanting to make a good impression.

Sol notices and answers. “That’s right! Nemmie’s decided to take a bit of a break from the Garrison, and wanted to come see you.”

But the socially perceptive Marz wastes no time digging into the situation. “I see, so then why are you here, Sol?” She pointedly asks with a presumptuous look. Having gotten an impression she's eager to prove. 

Sol is just about to say he's just there to help when Nemmie’s mouth catches up with her brain “We’re dating now!” She blurts out.

Marz’s eyes snap focus to Nemmie and gleam like a cat’s on a new toy. Nemmie doesn’t share her excitement right away, feeling as though she'd spoiled her opportunity to make a good reintroduction.

However, Nemmie had accidentally managed quite an effective entry. “Oooooh, when did this happen? I saw it coming of course, but I wanna know all the details!” Marz pounces on this new development quickly and with a huge grin.

“What do you mean ‘saw it coming’?” Nemmie’s face is already alight with blush.

“Sweetheart, you have each other's names tattooed on you. Normally It’d be heavy-handed and tacky, but, knowing how close you two are, it's weirdly sweet.” She’s so quick through her words that it really does seem Marz knew it was coming, and had rehearsed.

“And, since you dumped that preening, arrogant, militant meat-head, it was bound to happen sooner or later.” Marz adds matter of factly. Of course, the fact of their break-up of course would have made it back to her.

Sol is privately all too happy to hear Vace be insulted in this situation. Marz’s lack of shame meant she said things without much veiling, sometimes that could seem overly cruel, but Sol agrees with the sentiment and doesn’t argue.

Nemmie however, is having a time deciding whether it’s a comment on herself that Marz was this disapproving of her ex. After all, their relationship coincided with her gradual retreat from the other Strato kids. So much of the antagonism Vace showed to the Stratos was with her at his side. What if this was all a mistake? Thinking that she could just reintegrate with them after such bitterness.

Neither Sol nor Nemmie notice Rex gently pat Marz’s shoulder a few times.

“Sorry, I just really didn’t like that guy.” Marz reaches out and touches Nemmie’s arm and adds “He never deserved you, you know?”

Nemmie considers privately whether that's alright to take as an admission she doesn’t think badly of her because of Vace.

“I mean in your defense, he’s kinda hot in a… dangerous predator kinda way. But like, ugh . It’s not worth it to have to hear him.” Marz dismissively hand waves her statement as she says it, as if she wants nothing more to do with the thought. Though it oddly makes Nemmie feel better to hear it. ‘In your defense’. That’s not something you say if you want to blame someone.

“Anyway, it’s good to see you again! Did you just drop by to see me? I mean, I understand why you would. But, I’d love for you guys to stick around if you aren’t busy.” Marz asks, her head swivelling between the couple.

Suddenly a weight that she’d begrudgingly shouldered is lifted from her, and Nemmie straightens and visibly relaxes for its relief. The change is apparent to Sol and he feels an immense wave of relief himself. Happy to see that even if only in part, he’s right that she isn’t the pariah she imagines herself to be. Sol swiftly steps toward her, wrapping an arm over her as he does, and nuzzles against her unable to contain his joy.

“We’d be happy to.” He says, squeezing his partner tight.

Marz gives a dramatic look of disgust for a moment “EW! You guys are adorable, blegh !” She squirms. “Alright, looks like we’re working. But I just got back from deliveries, and you guys moved these crates already. Let’s do one load and then we’ll take a break.”

At Marz’s instruction they begin making the jumbled things in crates into sorted things in carts. The whole time it seems Sol ends up doing the lion’s share of the work. Being familiar with the nanoprinter’s optimal sorting and the materials themselves. The group talk as they work, making jokes out of how oddly shaped some of the things they pull are. Nemmie does her best to engage, laughing perhaps too hard at Rex’s goofy impression of Seeq as he holds up two crystals to his eyes and scolds them each as they laugh. She’s quick to agree with all the things Marz holds up and appreciates the beautiful colours of. And she tries to contribute something to every anecdote, doing her best to be “ on ” .

Eventually the conversation shifts back to the depot work, and how many strange or funny orders come through, Nemmie’s eagerness to offer up anything she can to be an active participant prompts her to bring up the typo'd plasrifles order again. Only, Marz proves to have a better memory than Nemmie hoped when she recalls and adds that Nemmie was the one who almost put that ‘plaid-rifles’ order through before Marz caught the typo. Sol busts out in a fit of uncontrollable laughter and Nemmie flails in embarrassment trying to prevent Marz from revealing her fault. She ends up hiding her deeply red face in her hands until Sol’s laughter dies down. But her shame abates as he pats and rubs her shoulder comfortingly. Knowing in her core that this slip up just became a permanent memory for Sol and she will never hear the end of it.

In no time they’ve managed to fill the carts and Marz tells Sol and Nemmie to bring the first load over to the primary nanoprinter cache. Sol leads her through the depot and with the moment of privacy, checks up on her.

“It’s going a lot better than I thought.” Nemmie allows herself to admit, looking downward as Sol drops a clatter of bones into the disintegrator’s chute to be broken back down into usable elements then changing the settings to break down rocks.

“You’re doing great! Marz seems really happy to see you. Rex likes you too, I can tell.”

“Oh he really is a sweet guy.” She earnestly comments, handing him one of the larger stones from the cart. “I don’t get why so many Helios seem to hate him.” 

“I don’t think I should speak for Rex.” Sol’s solemn voice cautions. “Suffice it to say Rex doesn’t deserve it.” He says hoping that it will be the last word on the subject.

O–O–O

While Sol and Nemmie are emptying the carts, Marz and Rex are resting together on the crates. Marz sits on the edge with her head resting on her chin while Rex leans his elbows against it beside her, rolling up some of Cal’s latest dizzyweed for their break. Something’s been nagging at Marz. She was so ready– even weirdly excited to have to contend with a rambunctious and energetic Nemmie rough-housing and knocking things over at her job.

At least it would mean seeing her again.

Since the Helios showed up, she hadn’t gotten to see much– if any, of Nemmie. Aside from her breaking up conflicts at parties, and occasionally coming into distant view from outside command. Instead, it was almost like she was a stranger. She wasn’t doing anything bad. They’d still shared some laughs and small-talk went fine. But she was shy initially. That more than anything was out of character for her. It made her uneasy. Like there was the threat of her friend being a different person. Not being there anymore. That worry burns and thrashes for a moment in her head, before Rex wags the joint in front of her, snapping her out of it.

“Hey Rex, what do you think of Nemmie?” She asks, playing off as curiosity her desperation to hear any thoughts but her own on Nemmie as she tucks the joint into her pocket.

“She seems nice. Sol likes her, that counts for a lot. But…” He trails off, rolling up a second spliff. Marz hangs on the pause. She’s seen first hand how quickly and easily Rex can get a read on someone. It’s worth it to get his insight.

“I know firsthand what it looks like. She wants us to like her.” he states, sealing the cigarette and tucking it away. “I mean, makes sense for me. But you guys are friends, yeah?”

“Yeah. But we haven’t… she’s been busy at the Garrison. I hardly see her anymore.” she quietly admits. She’s fiddling with one of the many chains about her outfit, and Rex covers her hands with his.

“Then, maybe she’s worried that you might hold that against her. Like she’s gotta make it up to you somehow.”

“That’s stupid though! There’s nothing to ‘make up’. I’m not mad at her, I just miss her!” She proclaims, dramatically waving her hand out and sending her chains and jewelry to ring and clatter with the force of the sudden gesture. She sighs, the tail-end turning to a frustrated groan.

“You remember how I told you I was kind of a bully when I was a kid?” She asks, glancing over to Rex as he nods and then out into space.

There’s a cool, clasping feeling in the core of her chest as she recalls that unfortunate truth of her youth. “Even when I was a little shit. Nemmie didn’t care. I mean, I’m sure she didn’t like it– but she didn’t let that stop her from inviting me to play.”

Rex hops up on the crate next to her and throws his arm over her.

“I’m finally starting to work on it: being a nicer person. And I want to share that with her.”

“So, you can. You can just be nice to her. Show her she doesn’t have to win you over.”

Rex’s ears prick up, hearing the clunky wheels of the carts making their way back to them. He kicks himself up from the crate and turns to her to say “You’re gonna get your chance.”

“Break time!” Rex shouts up into the ceiling of the loading bay as Sol and Nem turn the corner. He bounds over to the pair throwing arms around them and leads them and Marz to the large, open bay doors. There’s shade to hide in and they do just that. Rex and Marz retrieve joints from pockets and Marz lights them both. They each take a drag and Rex offers his to Sol. Sol looks to Nemmie, who’s been following the joint with her eyes looking a little uneasy since they were produced.

“Everything ok?” He asks, passing on partaking for now. Rex withdraws and exhales his previous toke. Marz curses herself internally. She hadn’t thought about whether Nemmie would have a problem with them smoking.

“It’s fine. I just never… well, if you were caught with it in the Garrison you got latrine duty for a week. Rhett hates the stuff.” She says, trying her best not to seem as nervous as she was. 

Rex chuckles. “No he doesn’t. But I didn’t say it, and you didn’t hear it.” He says then takes another drag. Nemmie’s eyes go wide with the new illicit information.

“You aren't at the Garrison. But you also don’t have to smoke if you don’t want to. And I’m fine not smoking as well, so you aren’t alone in it.” Sol says, placing a hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, thinking to herself instead. It’s just a plant, cannabis was integral in many forms to humans for much of their history, why should dizzyweed bother her? I mean, she doesn’t like the smell but that’s not it. Is it just that she’s been told not to? Or a worry that she’d be turning down or off some part of herself?

“It’s more important to us that you feel safe than if you smoke with us, Nem.” Marz chimes in, flicking ash away from her. The boys nod in agreement. “It’s better to be as comfortable as possible your first time anyway.” she adds.

“Ayyy-o” Rex lamely calls, drawing attention to the entirely un-salacious double-entendre. They all chuckle as any pressure dissipates.

Nemmie relaxes knowing that no one expects her to do anything she doesn’t want to, and smiles for that care. “Some other time, maybe. But Sol, you can if you want. I don’t want to hold you back.” She offers.

Sol shakes his head “You aren’t, don’t worry. It’s good actually. Gotta have someone with a clear head who knows how to cover in case Seeq shows up again.” he jokes, holding his hands like glasses in front of his face. Speaking of, check this out.” Sol says, running over to the third crate they took down and rummaging through what remains. He comes back with a sheet of pink and green moss. Apparently Marz knows what Sol was doing, and passes him her lighter. Sol lights it, and waves the flame slowly over the moss. The small leaf-like structures react, wriggling and shuddering. Sol hands the lighter back to Marz and holds the moss up, tracing lines in the air with it and then places it on the ground.

The pungent odor Nemmie didn’t want to admit out loud had been bothering her dissipates, apparently having been… absorbed by the moss.

“What is that?” Nemmie asks curiously, crouching down to look at the moss.

“We call it Smokesponge. Right now we think it feeds on smoke, which it gets a lot of during Dust due to natural fires from the dry conditions.” Sol again happily explains, eager to share.

“Nerd.” Marz chaffs.

Nemmie stares at the undulating vegetation, oddly thankful to it for clearing out the smell, but as well appreciating the shifts in its colours, and the pretty patterns those shifts make. She has to admit, a cool-looking plant that feeds on smoke was kinda neat.

Soon, the joints are spent, put out in the moss and the group returns to the crates and carts to start working again.

“So Nem, what made you want to take time away from the Garrison?” Rex asks, looking to give Nemmie the chance to be the main speaker. He rolls and pops an orblike shell up his arm, before Sol catches it and sorts it.

“Uhhh, I mean… it wasn’t just one thing.” She stalls, trying to flounder through the question instead of admitting the reason while in Marz’s presence.

“Forget about the Garrison, she’s here now!” Marz butts in, saving her. “I wanna know how you and Sol got together.” Marz prompts, the same gleam to her eyes as she all but salivates at the potential gossip material. Rex happily abandons the topic of the Garrison in favour of the far more interesting question.

Once they have a start on the sorting, Sol and Nemmie recount yesterday's events. From Nemmie tackling Sol and showering at his place, to their omelettes and the confession on the couch.

"Now why can't I have a hot guy at my beck and call to make me food?" Marz asks, her arms wide and pleading up to the roof.

"Don't look at me, I'm already at your beck and call for making out and bringing you dizzy. I'm swamped." Rex jokes.

"Oh hush, you're fine where you are." Marz ruffles his ears affectionately before gently pushing his head away. "But that's just what happened. Tell me the good stuff. When did you know you wanted to be with Sol, Nem?"

Sol has to admit he's curious as well. Nemmie scratches the scales on the cheek facing Sol, possibly but not really covering her face. She can already feel her guts tighten, but despite that, she starts, as if the words are being squeezed from her.

"Uh well, Vace and I got in a fight… y’know, over my tattoo.” She clasps her hand over the site on her arm.  “And– It’s important to me. I couldn’t… he got so angry about it– I couldn’t take it anymore, so I broke up with him. Sol kind of– I mean I knew how bad the relationship was, even if I was denying it, so he didn’t make me realize it, but he helped me admit it." Sol drops what he was doing to put his hand on her back, wanting to be in contact to soothe her through the sore topic.

"I felt like shit for weeks after. I felt… stupid that I just put up with it instead of leaving earlier. I spent so long trying to be what Vace wanted that I ended up feeling like no one but him would want me, but I couldn’t go back to him.” She feels her throat clench, desperate to clamp the words down like blood from an artery, but they continue despite herself. “Like I was trapped in this dark, lonely box that I crammed myself into. And then… My birthday rolled around. And you showed up at my door." Nemmie turns to look at Sol, tears beginning to gather in his eyes. He rubs her firmly, allaying the squeezing in her throat. "Like he does every year. We ate cake, watched holovids, and laughed together. It wasn't a huge reveal or a scene in the rain from some old rom-com. But I felt normal again.”

She glances over to see Marz and Rex both have long abandoned the task of sifting through junk, and were listening with rapt attention. The fear she’s saying too much creeps cold along her neck. Finding herself agreeing with the squeezing. She probably wouldn’t be saying half of it if not for Sol’s comforting hand.

“Whenever we were together I just forgot how bad I felt. And the more time passed, I started feeling… better than just normal.” the words still refuse to flow easily. A combination of overwhelm and struggling to describe how Sol makes her feel making her stop and start. “I wanted to be with him all the time, because… I like who I am when I’m with him. So that’s when I knew.” She says finally. The words don't quite cover it. They feel like a drop in the bucket, and she can’t feel satisfied with what she's said, but she doesn't have the words for more, only enough to ask Marz and Rex to keep her confidence.

“Of course, I wouldn’t share that with anyone.” Marz hushes, putting a hand on Nemmie’s arm. “I’m so glad you got away from all that.”

Rex wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “Same here. Would you like another hug?” he offers, opening his arms to her.

“Yes please.” Nemmie says, trudging forward and all but falling into not just Rex, but Marz and Sol as they all come forward to join the hug. The mess of intertwined arms and torsos locking up around her feels nice. With no demand of her stoicism or grit, her tears are allowed to fall. Despite the three people all leaning their weight into her, she feels lighter as they run off her face.

Amid the awkward but wholesome fumbling to make sure everyone is involved in the hug, Rex takes the opportunity to release any tension there might be for them and jokes “Hey, that’s my ass!” to no one in particular. The laughter gives a comfortable break for the hug, and they take a moment to collect themselves.

With the air clear, they make quick work of the rest of the crates, continuing their carrying on. Though Nemmie now makes her own fun of things, and shows greater interest in the odd contents. Particularly those she can toss around. Showing that the athleticism and coordination she honed as a child is still as sharp as ever. It warms those same parts of Marz’s chest to see her friend is still in there. Hidden, maybe– just under the murk.

When she pulls out a large, bouncy and tough Swellsprout bulb she wonders why such a great sportsball exists naturally as a plant. But when Sol corrects her that it’s actually closer to a fungus she finds herself curious, asking more questions. Sol thinks to himself that bringing Nemmie on Expeditions maybe isn’t so impossible as he thought.

When the last of the materials have been loaded into carts, Marz and Rex offer to bring it to the cache, both to give Sol and Nemmie a moment to themselves, and to take advantage of Sol’s altruism as he grabs a broom to clean up the dust and dirt their work scattered on the floor.

Nemmie stands off to the side while Sol sweeps. Her thoughts swirl about all that she said without fully meaning to. Wondering if; despite the lighter feeling in her chest, she had made a mistake in being so vulnerable.

“I‘m proud of you Nemmie. That was a lot to share, it took guts.” Sol says, as if he was reading her mind. Taking a moment to lean on his broom, he turns to regard her.

“It wasn’t too much was it? I didn’t mean to just dump all that on them.” She wraps her arms around her stomach and looks to where Marz and Rex went. “I just… I don’t know, something broke and I couldn’t stop myself from saying it. I hope it didn’t weird them out.”

Sol drops the broom and walks over to her, reaching across her back and bracing her against his side. “You’re fine. Look, I’m glad you felt comfortable enough– even if for just a moment, to get that stuff out. I think it’s awesome. I hope you can feel the same about it."

He holds her there, letting his words settle and rocking her back and forth, shifting onto one foot then the other before adding "And I’m glad. About how you feel about being with me, I mean.” She feels a surge in her, a bubbling-over need to cover up an imagined wrong. The force of it turning her in toward Sol, staring into his face. “I didn’t mean– I just. It’s not like I want to be with you only because you make me feel better. That’s stupid, and selfish. I just– couldn’t find the words. Aggh I’m so duuumb!” She pleadingly groans the almost-relief of that need to correct herself against his chest as she lets her head fall in defeat, wishing nothing more than for a chance to walk back her earlier declaration and do it properly.

“No no no, Nemmie. You’re not dumb.” He cups the side of her head. “I don’t know that I could put into words how I feel about you either. Even if I tried, I’d need more than the span of one conversation– stars– a season, maybe a year! To do it in a way that felt complete and satisfying. And in that time, I’d probably miss enough new things to love to fill a hundred of these crates!”

“For not knowing how to put it into words, you did a lot better than I did.” She grumbles into him again, frustrated that the things he says make her feel so much happiness when the things she says to him can’t possibly be returning the favour.

“The point is, you don’t need to perfectly capture your feelings for me in words.” He slides his hand down her scaled ear and jaw to tilt her face up and look her in the eye. “When you insist we go full tilt in sparring. Because to you, anything less than your best is your worst. Or you listen to me rattle on and on about cartoons I like. When you asked me about my photophoner practice! I know how you feel about me, because you show me. And I’m so happy every time you do.”

Sol’s cheeks are flushed, and she can feel how quickly he’s breathing. Her own breathing quickens, as if trying to match pace. He’s still holding her chin. Primed to kiss her since he looked her in the eyes. She takes the initiative from him, lifting away from his fingers to join her lips to his. Sol’s moved back a bit by her ardor, and catches himself on the back of her neck with his now free hand.

“I do love you.” She soughs as she slowly withdraws from the kiss. “I’ll keep proving it.” she pecks him again “If you keep telling me how you love me back.”

He gives her that same radiant smile of his that makes her heart jump. His head softly impacts hers, and he whispers to her. “Deal.”

They stay like that, heads touching and bracing against each other until they hear Marz and separate.

“Oh good! you guys didn’t take off.” she says looking back to check that Rex was still following her and walking to them. When Rex appears he’s got something hidden behind his back and is careful to keep it out of view.

“Well, that’s all taken care of. Thank you both for your help. I’ll make sure you get your kudos for your work. Nemmie–” Marz steps up close to her, leaving less than a meter between them. “Thank you for coming. I miss you so much, it made me so happy to spend time with you again, I hope we can hang out more soon.” Nemmie smiles at her friend, and they both come forward to embrace the other.

“I missed you too Marz.” She softly says next to Marz’s ear then squeezes tight and picks her up from the floor.

“Woo!” Marz exclaims in surprise, before being put down. She glances back to Rex, waving him forward.

“I guess all that training did you some favors, eh girl?” Marz says with a smile, turning around to Rex. “I hope this is big enough to fit around your big beefy muscles, then.” she turns back to hold up a translucent, brilliant-red cropped jacket. Two thick gold lines run straight down the left breast, and the collar, hem and cuffs are all wide, opaque and a deeper, darker red.

Nemmie’s wide-eyed, it looks…

“It’s just like your old one from when we were kids! Alright, maybe it’s a little sexier, but I really liked that jacket on you!” Marz enthuses, but reigns in her urge to dive into fashion talk. “I don’t know if you noticed, but–” Marz shows off her own jacket, similar to the red one she holds, but looser in texture, and tighter in cut; being more of a bolero jacket, and a rich blue. “I kinda adapted your style to myself.”

Marz holds it out for Nemmie. She’s still amazed. After blinking away her stupor, she takes the Garrison mantle off of her shoulders, and twists to put the jacket on with Marz’s help. Once her arms are through, she gives a tug to either lapel, seating it properly on her shoulders, and turns back around to face everyone.

Rex gives a quick whistle, which is drowned out by Sol’s. Marz claps her hands together and exclaims “Damn! You look COSMIC, girl! Maybe a nice green or teal top and black tights with it? Don’t get me wrong, you look great as is, but you definitely do that uniform more favours than it does you.” Marz is going about looking at her from all different angles and adjusting the collar and her hair. It makes Nemmie feel… a bit like a doll. But then there’s a certain flattery even in that. Like Marz is caring enough about her to consider these things.

And she does like the jacket.

Nemmie interrupts Marz’s fixing to give her another hug. “I love it. Thank you Marz, this is really sweet of you.” Marz giggles into Nemmie’s shoulder, happy that her gift is well received. And wraps her arms around Nemmie in turn. “I wanted to do something nice. To thank you for like, opening up before. Thank you, for trusting me to hear it.” When they separate, Marz quickly wipes her eye with a finger and turns to Sol to hug him goodbye as well.

Nemmie looks to Rex, who is smiling and bouncing on his heels a bit. She opens her arms toward him and he rushes in to hug her also. She’s able to give a proper hug this time without her arms pinned. “It was nice to meet you for real, Rex. I uh, well here–” Nemmie withdraws from the hug and opens her holopalm. Rex takes the hint and they place their holopalms against one another to exchange friend privileges on the holonet. “I– I know that you have history with Vace too. And… if you want to talk, I can at least listen. And thank you again for listening to me. I know it was a lot.”

“You’re all good, Nem. There's no need to be so tense. We’re friends, yeah?” He says, holding a fist out toward her. Nemmie sighs in relief, gives a wide smile and a nod then bumps her fist against his. Once Marz is done, Rex goes to hug Sol. That done, the two pairs make their way out of the depot into the still-bright, still-warm dusky Dust and walk toward Marz’s quarters since it’s on the way. Rex enters with her and to avoid hanging anyone up, they keep their goodbyes quick.

As they walk out, Sol asks “Do you want me to walk you home?” There's an undeniable energy still tingling over her body. She doesn’t think she’d be able to stay at home if she went.

“Actually, would it be ok if I came over? I’m kind of buzzed! I was so worried and nervous and it was stressful and hard but it went so well~ ! Ahhh! I thought Marz would hate me, but look at this jacket!” Nemmie picks it up from her by the lapels. “Marz just– was chill! She wasn’t angry with me, or cold or anything she missed me ! And Rex! I didn’t even know how I’d be around him but we’re friends now!” She jumps and bounces around a bit and Sol chuckles seeing her acting so lively. He checks the time, noting that it’s late enough that his parents would be home, and they’d be best off just going right to Sol’s quarters from outside, rather than through the whole house. “Yeah, you can come over! But let’s try to be a little quiet when we get in, ok?” he laughs seeing Nemmie cartwheeling when he looks up from his holopalm.

She runs back over to him, closing the gap she’d made by zipping around. Her arms come around his chest and she awkwardly walks in sidesteps alongside, hanging onto him there. Sol’s quarters come into view, and the pair of them hasten toward it.

“Thanks so much, Sol. I couldn’t have done it without you there.” She tells him as she climbs the balcony stairs up to his door.

“I think you could have.” He tells her as he opens the door letting her in. She catches her as she enters, and gently turns her toward him. “But you don’t have to–” he kisses her on the cheek as he closes the door. “Cause I’ll always be here for you.”