Lay down the tracks

There were no expectations laid out to her, at least not yet. This planet could be completely safe, and she would be the first outworlder to lay its eyes on it. Yet there was also a sense of déjà vu —perhaps it was the faint pink glows, nostalgia stabbing harder than anything else she had felt before.

Aponia shakes her head and is ready to take the first step before her name is called. Aponia turned, looking down at the red head, whose genuine concern caught her off guard for a brief moment. "Yes, that's me..." She responded, fully facing the other woman. Of course, she understands where they're coming from- everything new brings a new wave of problems.

"Actually, I was planning to accompany you anyway. We are partners in this expedition, after all." A side eye came out with that statement. Himeko crossed her arms over her chest, continuing curiously: "Did you truly mean to explore this whole world, all alone?"

Her intention had surely been clear enough. Within her briefcase that she had motioned to prior, numerous mechanical parts waited eagerly to hum to life. A terrain mapping satellite, several heat-scanning probes, and not to mention her baby, an extending heavy-duty sawblade, tuned to deadly speeds. Their own equipment was adequate, sure; but Himeko's inventions were something else. Or, she'd like to think so.

There was curiosity about Himeko’s origin, though. ‘Some planet on the edge of the universe.’ The answer was undeniably a cop-out, Yelan knew that. Cop-out answers could mean many things – a desire to avoid answering due to having something to hide, or maybe even discomfort within the true answer. Hell, for all Yelan knew, Himeko simply forgot, though that last part seemed unlikely. How could someone truly forget their home, even the most traumatizing of memories would keep the name fresh. 

Despite knowing how much of a cop-out it was, Yelan chose not to press her companion on it. After all, she wanted to build a relationship with the Astral Express. Pressing a vital member could only prove negative for them. 

Still, it was interesting. The idea of being nothing, yet able to grow into something. All humans had been like that, even Yelan was no different. 

So, Yelan nodded in response to the nature of Himeko’s origin, and allowed for conversation to continue to flow. After all, they were traveling through space, and apparently traveling to nowhere in particular, at that. 

“I have never exactly traveled through space before, you’re right about that,” Yelan hummed as she spoke, finding amusement in the words. Space travel, hm. Really couldn’t say that I could’ve done that even just mere months ago. “I’ve been to Penacony, as well as Herta’s Space Station. Otherwise, though, that’s it. I guess I’m not used to just traveling somewhere with no true destination in sight. A way you could help me…hm.”

"Not just a first time space-goer, but also a first time wanderer?" Her musings were punctuated with light laughter, teasing but not mocking. That certainly explained their miscommunication earlier. "I guess you could call me pretty proficient at the both of those."

"I'm familiar with those locations. In fact, my companions and I have become relatively prominent names there." The fact that the Astral Express remained a majority shareholder of Penacony was never lost on her. Managing that side of their finances was about as bad as doing taxes back home. Thank goodness she had not had to do such things in many years.

At Yelan's final comment, she cannot help but flush a little, smiling. "Ah, is my voice that comforting to you? You flatter me." Himeko crossed her arms, and a gloved finger tapped at her elbow. "I suppose I can indulge you for a little, then. I do so often have to remind my fellow Nameless. The younger ones, at least."

The buzzing of her drones peppered the silence around them. Then, Himeko's clear cadence cuts through the air clearly.

"Space travel is much the same as traveling anywhere, really. Keep your pocketbook and phone about you. Remember to use your universal translator module. Oh, but you must keep up your hobbies." Though the sentence may have sounded silly, Himeko's beady eyes are nothing but serious.

She practically catches the other woman by the elbow, right at the top of the stairs. Their unknown planet's bright cherry surface shines reflected in the ship's window before them, as if teasing them. Begging them to step foot on its surface.

In Himeko's experience, foreign lands are always a cause for caution, naturally. Whether it's mishaps in language, intent, or other communication, problems are always due to arise. Especially if the scenery is a little too inviting.

"Let's not be too hasty, yes?" Himeko nods at the light coming in from the window, bathing their faces in light pinks. "I've explored for much of my life," in a sense, "and I know how deceiving pretty landscapes can seem. May I...?"

She taps her briefcase with two gloved fingers.

"Perhaps I can make some uncertainties less unknown, hm?"

Do you miss them?

The question hadn't been barbed. It hadn't been a ploy. It was delivered plain and bare, like something fragile held in open palms. Kafka could have laughed—shrugged it off with a clever turn of phrase or a joke about sentiment being beneath her pay grade.

But she found herself watching the woman beside her instead, expression unreadable, fingers poised in their slow orbit around the rim of her glass.

"Sometimes I think I might," Kafka says instead, her voice mild. She takes a slow sip from her glass, eyes not leaving Himeko's. No performance in her expression—just a kind of detachment laced with a distant warmth left rarely acknowledged.

"I don't linger on it. The moment you start missing someone, you start looking back. The past is not where I'm headed, and the others need a leader that moves toward the future."

"Well," she says, "I suppose that's another thing we agree on." She swallows a bitter sip. "Looking forward. Not straying to think on the past. Heh. Do all leaders need that quality, I wonder...?"

It's a question, but it's hardly directed at Kafka. Her vision is lost in her drink once again.

"What don't I miss about them...?" She wonders aloud. There is no sarcasm nor eye rolling, but for a moment, her smile slips again. "Their liveliness, their company, mostly. The quiet kind of company that is often so hard to find." Even March, though more rarely, she muses.

She groans, sitting up and leaning back at her seat. Of course she did not miss everything about them, but...

When her elbows settle again on the bar counter, Himeko is noticeably closer to the other woman. Her fingers dance adventurously to tap on Kafka's arm.

Not that you would know.

It shouldn't have gotten under her skin.

The Stellaron Hunters, each member a meteor on their own parabolas until Destiny's Slave pulled them into his orbit. Before Elio had granted her a glance at the script, the nature of her work meant interactions were fleeting and transactional.

But now… Now, she thought of Silver Wolf, all feral brilliance and too talented to be ignored. Of Blade, cracked down the middle and somehow still walking. Of Sam, taciturn and reliable, and Firefly, fragile in a way that made Kafka watch her a little too closely.

And of Caelus, bright-eyed and soft. She'd been the one to protect him, teach him, show him which rules were meant to be broken. And when it was time, she had even been the one to wipe the slate clean. He was destined to receive the Stellaron on Herta's little dollhouse of a space station, and he couldn't proceed down his new path still carrying her shadow.

She never told the others what they meant to her. That would make it real—give it shape—and things with shape tended to break. Wolfie would never let her live down the sentimentality, anyway.

Kafka shifted her weight slightly—elbow on the counter, chin resting against her knuckles, eyes flicking lazily to the woman beside her. The warmth had returned to Himeko's cheeks, as if the memory of the Astral Express and its Nameless had flushed her skin with its glow.

That was a little beyond her. After all, she is not raising them. They are young, but they aren't children, at least.

"They're doing fine," she says curtly. She chases her words with a sip from her glass.

It does make her a touch happy, knowing Kafka feels the same protectiveness to her own crew -- in her own posessive, esoteric way. They are in similar positions, the two women, in the end, whether Himeko would admit it or not.

She takes in Kafka's bodily sigh, curious. There's more to it. There always is. But they are two strangers, two opposite similarities; and Himeko knows damn well how little she reveals to even her crews. She has no desire to analyze the proverbial haystack for the whole truth.

Himeko leans towards her direction, hastening a question of her own. "Do you miss them...?"

"Huadiao and caffeine," she murmured, laughter creeping at the edge of her tone. "A philosopher's poison."

Himeko's coat comes off with a wet slap, tossed carelessly to the side, and for a moment Kafka says nothing. There's something about watching someone like Himeko unravel. It shouldn't be satisfying. It should feel like a warning. But Kafka's always been fond of beautiful things in slow collapse.

And the esteemed navigator of the Astral Express, all iron and elegance, trimmed in order and logic, was reduced to a shivering silhouette beside her in a bar with no name. What could have possibly led the firebrand here, on this night, to this place?

"Drinks are like people," Kafka said at last, her tone contemplative. "Some are better left uninvited. Some surprise you. Tonight just didn't feel like the kind of night to order something familiar."

A place like this was supposed to be a pause. A breath. She'd chosen it for the silence, the anonymity, the promise of being overlooked. Kafka didn't usually indulge in hiding—it wasn't her style—but tonight she hadn't felt like being seen. 

But the universe had the audacity to give her this, and the look Kafka gives Himeko is neutral—curiosity tempered by a quiet resignation that she didn't get to be as unnoticed as she'd planned.

"I suppose it's not the worst trade," she muses to herself after a beat, lifting her drink at last and taking a measured sip of the colorful concoction. She had company, even if the firebrand was half-drenched, mildly hostile, and hellbent on accusing her of crimes she hadn't committed yet.

Unawares of her posture, she squints her eyes at the last question. Does she really look so off-course right now? Then again, she's used to standing when confronting her foes, face to face. Her foes. That's right, this was no jolly meeting this was Kafka that she was making merry with. Her words catch in her throat, and she turns back away for another sip. The pause lingers a little too unnaturally for her taste before she's able to rebutt.

She rests her forehead against the back of her hand, suspended over her glass. It had been a simple mission, answering a distress transmission coming from this civilisation, and she had handled it herself. That was all. Returning afterwards to the Astral Express was usually the least of her concerns, but she just hadnt been able to get in contact on this crummy planet. It had to be this rainstorm, that cackled with a little too much thunder and lightning. A few words with the locals, and her suspicions had been confirmed: no calls in or out would be possible until the storm passed. Which would likely be in the morning.

She swallows down the bitter brew.

"I just haven't been off the Express in a minute. I feel like a fish out of water, with nothing to do until tomorrow morning. And I miss..." she waves her hand. "The crew. I feel a little responsible for the newer members, you know. Not that you'd know."

Himeko pauses, a question brimming on her lips. Her cherry lipstain, now applied a day ago, bleeds warmth into her face. She almost looks warm, despite her slight trembling.

"I came here for a quiet night," she says as she settles onto the stool beside Himeko, voice rich with amusement, "and I get you, ready to accuse me of grand larceny. Besides—I've got more credits than I know what to do with, and far better taste than to go rifling through someone else's wrinkled coat."

Her lips curl at the edges, just faintly, as she sets her drink down. She turns, propping her elbow on the bar and resting her chin against her knuckles, eyes half-lidded but sharp. "I just saw a beautiful woman soaked to the skin, ready to drown in something cheap, and thought it'd be rude to let her do it alone."

Kafka gestures lightly to the bartender without looking.

"Well, you've got one thing right. Pickpocket or not, you're certainly no threat to me."

She eyes Kafka as she sits down next to her. She's elegant for a criminal, Himeko will give her that. Though, that's her M.O, isn't? Committing heinous sins and looking good doing it? Why else would a criminal wear such stupid designer glasses, anyway?

"I'll get whatever I had before. The, uh," she waves her hand, "the one mixed with the Huadiao." She groans a little bit, clutching her temples with a finger. "Please."

Her thoughts are elsewhere still. A 'beautiful woman ready to drown in something cheap'... Just what sort of floozy did Kafka think she is? It's not like it has been a while since she'd received a compliment on her appearance, so why did it linger now? Was she truly so pathetic looking that Kafka felt the need to prop her up a little? Did she pity her?

Breaking up her thoughts, her order is served -- a light green-and-purple concoction, that bubbles merrily around its single ice cube. Coffee grounds and matcha litter the rim. Finally.

With an annoyed scoff, she takes the drink as it is offered, and gulps down a generous sip. Immediately, the warmth spreads through her chest, and she manages some relief, at least.

It still didn't help with her wet clothes, though. She shrugs off her coat into her elbow. It flops unceremoniously onto the stool at her other side.

She turns back to Kafka. Her disbelief at their encounter is waning, and instead, well... maybe Himeko is a little happy to have someone to talk to. At least, for a little while. Her guard lightens, just a little.

What did need a response, though, had been the words that followed (as well as Himeko’s sneeze, as is common courtesy). “Bless you,” Yelan chose to open with before anything else, “It’s good to travel with someone well explored then. After all, what if I were to get lost alone and afraid on a planet I’m woefully unfamiliar with.” A short chuckle had been let out, as she said that. “The mission of the Astral Express seems noble, though. It’s a mission that…doesn’t seem like you could ever do alone.”

Alone. To be aboard the Astral Express, to become a Nameless, would mean that you become anything but. A Nameless, an individual providing aid across the universe, working alongside others aboard the Express, would never truly be alone. It was something that seemed appealing, at least to the layperson. To Yelan, though, working alone had been far more appealing. Nothing that could possibly hold her back, in that case.

Though, the few times she had been able to work with others – moments like this, as she sat next to her beautiful red-haired companion – had been nice.

“As for where I’m from…I’m from Liyue, though I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it. It’s a country of commerce, someplace I’ve called home my entire life,” Yelan smiled. “How about you, Miss Himeko? Where would you have called home before boarding the Astral Express?” 

There's something of a tease hinting in her voice, but Himeko's expression is unchanged. She might as well be presenting an annual income report for how interested her eyes look.

Liyue... that's definitely not a star system she's traveled to. Then again, there was so much she had not seen in the cosmos, so Himeko remained unbothered. "Sounds nice," is all she could muster.

The question earned in response is a surprising one, though. Immediately, her thoughts are on the defensive. What matter did it have? As a Nameless, her past mattered not. Yelan simply must not be familiar with the practices of Akivili, is all.

In her years on the Express, she had grown accumstomed to closing her memories to her time before it had crashed down at her home.

Her thoughts flit by in just a moment, and she turns to her companion nearly immediately with her answer, practiced and perfect.

"Oh, just some planet on the edge of the universe. I wasn't really anyone until the Express picked me up."

It's a cop-out answer, and she knows it. But lying any further wasn't becoming of her status as Navigator. She returns to watching her mechanical children roam the wasteland, LED's blinking happily.

Her gaze slides lazily down to Himeko's dripping coat, the cling of rain-soaked fabric against flushed skin, then back up to meet her glare. There's a deliberate pause before Kafka raises a brow and takes a slow sip of her drink.

"Caught in the rain, hm?" That's rich, coming from the one who looks like she lost a fight with a cumulonimbus. It's strange, really. Kafka hadn't come here expecting company—certainly not hers. She's well-acquainted with coincidence, but something about this feels more deliberate.

What had gone so wrong on the Astral Express? She's still considering that when Himeko takes a step forward.

Kafka's amusement stills for a beat. Ah, so that's where this is going. Her posture shifts, weight subtly redistributing in that instinctual way of someone who has spent a lifetime expecting violence. Her pulse kicks up, sharp with interest.

But then the suitcase drops, and so does the possibility of anything fun.

Pity.

She swirls the last of her drink with a flick of her wrist, the corners of her lips pulling up into a smirk. "Would you believe me if I said I needed somewhere quiet to think? I'd heard this place had a memory problem. No cameras. No questions. No names. It's perfect for someone who wants to disappear for a few hours."

Her gaze flicks down, then up again. She lifts her glass in a slow, idle motion. "You'll catch something like that," she says mildly.

A pause. Then, with a faint, amused breath—almost a sigh—

She takes her words about the current establishment in, though. Apparently, this hole in the wall is a lot more of a void than it looks. No wonder a Stellaron Hunter would know about such a place. But, a few hours? Then, she had to have been stalking her, or something...!

She shifts her weight onto he backleg. Kafka was unfortunately right about one thing; the cold was getting to her.

"Ha! What are you trying to gain, Stellaron Hunter?" Her brows furrow combatively. "You're gonna get into my pocketbook while I'm passed out on the couch? You'll have to be craftier than that to get me to let my guard down."

Her head swims. Himeko needed to sit down again, surely. At least, standing here wasn't doing her any good. She sways on her feet, a hiccup imminent on her breath, harsh from the alcohol.

"Whatever. Stop standing in the shadows, and sit at the bar at least. So I can tell you off... *hic* properly."

The rain has glazed her collarbones and soaked the sleeves of her coat, but she doesn't seem to mind. She holds a tumbler in one hand, something amber and half-finished tilting gently with each shift of her fingers. No ice. No garnish. The kind of drink you nurse for its warmth, not its taste.

When she lifts her gaze, it's as if she's not surprised in the slightest to find the redhead in a run-down bar on a backwater planet, strung out on cheap cocktails and bad weather.

Her eyes trace Himeko's figure—lingering on the suitcase, the slump of her shoulders, the way the red in her hair looks almost copper beneath the neon. Tired. Frustrated. Off-balance in a way that Kafka finds... disappointing.

She liked the version from the transmission better. But maybe that was the thing about people you only admired from afar. Up close, the polish always chipped.

Still, it wasn't hate that Kafka felt, watching her. Not exactly.

It was something closer to pity—the kind you'd feel stumbling across a particularly sad and pathetic half-soaked stray curled beneath a collapsing cardboard box, doing its best to feign dignity while everything around it sagged and dripped.

"Oh, shut up, I know your type, Kafka." Her words slur a little, but she doesn't care. The image of the perfectly orderly navigator has been thrown from the window long ago. Normally, she would not let herself fall like this; but normally, she hadn't expected to run into a friend/enemy so soon. "You think you're just so slick, acting all high and mighty, all the time. You got caught in the rain just like I did. What a crazy coincidence, hm?" Her sarcasm lingers in the air between them.

It doesn't change anything, not really. She curses herself silently. Of course she'd asked for a familliar face and found herself facing the last person she wanted to see right now. And oh, what a time to have caught her, sopping wet, hardly a representative of anything, let alone the esteemed Astral Express.

Whatever. What she really wants is a warm shower and a bed to sleep in. It didn't matter that Kafka had found her here, watching her for however long creepy crows like her do. Better to wrap this up quickly, then.

"Hmph." She eyes the drink in Kafka's gloved hands. Her drenched clothes had started to freeze her skin. Bare shoulders was Not the look that worked best in the rain, after all. She sighs, internally. Maybe she should've gotten something for the road, too.

"Alright then."

She takes an ill-thought step towards the woman, now. She still had the drink on her mind, she supposes. Her suitcase clunks down at her side, her wrist tiring.

It's a stormy night, it's a shady bar. But it's shelter, and it's a drink, and that's what matters.

Himeko stirs her drink idly, frustration obvious on her face. Usually, her passive expression makes for the perfect poker face, impossible to read to anyone (except maybe the conductor). Being stranded on this planet for one night wouldn't kill her, but it's a far cry from the comforts of her room on the Astral Express. Rain stains her suitcase, and drips from her hair. A thankful reminder for why she brought her coat everywhere, but her dress too would need to be aired out properly.

The faces of her dear companions dance in front of her droopy eyelids. Even grumpy Dan Heng, she'd love some kind of familiar company right now.

How many drinks had she had at this grimy hole in the wall? A warm coffee-smelling one, then an orange one, then magenta. Surely, that was it -- because after that one, she did not remember. Whatever. It wasn't as if currency was an issue for her. And, there wasn't exactly a train for her to take care of in the morning.

She thanks the bartender and picks up her suitcase. The prospect of turning tail to her boring hotel room doesn't sound very uplifting but what else is she to do but sleep?

As she approaches the door outside, she spots one of the last stragglers leaning against a neon wall of advertisements. Something about the silouette stands out to Himeko; the slacks, the jacket, maybe? She knows she's not of her right mind, at the moment. She's seeing things, surely. But nevertheless, she halts her advance and turns to walk a pace towards the stranger.

That one step makes all the difference in the world.

The deep purple locks, light eyes... Round sunglasses, resting on a sickeningly sweet smile. It's been a while since she'd seen the Stellaron Hunter from her hologram transmission, however many months ago; but she was the striking image of that...that...

that bastard.

She regrets her approach. Why now of all time, to see that worm Kafka?

"Huh. I was going to ask for directions, but I don't want to hear anything from you," Himeko says dryly. "What are you doing here, Stellaron Hunter? Were you following me or something?"

One may wonder why Yelan had found herself aboard a ship, ready to explore a new planet on behalf of the Intelligensia Guild. It seemed like something far out of her element, no?

Well, having cosied up with at least one member of the Intelligensia Guild, Yelan had thought that maybe collaborating with them – of course, on behalf of the Ministry of Civil Affairs, as that would give off a stronger sense of officiality, would allow her to build more of a working relationship with them. More contacts, especially in the vastness of space, would prove helpful.

Luckily for her, the woman she had been paired to travel alongside with, a woman by the name of Himeko, as she were told, appeared to be rather well-explored in terms of space exploration. Yelan had been accustomed to exploring – especially exploring the unknown. After all, a place like the Chasm had become a backyard of sorts for her, as a result. However, a new planet seemed simply inconceivable for her. Anything to build a relationship I suppose, she thought to herself.

She continued to speak, keen on getting at least a vague idea of what to expect. “You’re…used to this, right? What should I expect on seeing a new planet?” She chuckled, “have any sage wisdom to depart with me, Miss? I think it would quell the few nerves I have right now.” She chose to joke, playing up her own nerves. Jokes are a means of gaining familiarity with another, and she wanted to become familiar with the woman paired with her.

Her pods whirr and spin, spirals of light poking out in all directions. Himeko's usual white dress is certainly a choice for such an event, as dirt already begins to flake its hem, but she doesn't mind. It's all part of the new experience, after all.

She sets her suitcase down, and procures a small remote from the pocket of her jacket. A few presses, and a holographic screen appears before her eyes, displaying cameras from her drones.

"I am relatively used to this, you could say. After all, it is the mission of the Nameless aboard the Astral Express to explore and aid anyone, moving onwards as our personal journey." Though her words are grandiose, she sneezes into her handkerchief. It's a small kitten sneeze, and the handkerchief disappears in her pocket as fast as it shows up. "Excuse me. Anyway yes, I have done things like this before."

A few taps on her remote, and her pods levitate forward with purpose. The remote drops to her side, and Himeko reaches down to grab her suitcase. She follows the pods as if it is as usual as an empty planet.

She settles comfortably into the cushions, setting her cup on the table nearby. The bitter brew cools, and Himeko relishes the serene atmosphere. The jukebox is the only company needed, and she hums to its tune under her breath (though, hardly on key), as she reaches for her book.

It's a nice day in space, as far as she can tell. The celestial brilliance is a pleasant enough backdrop for her rest. And yet, its capacity for offering forward new acquaintances goes forgotten, momentarily, as a holograms starts up from across the room. A white-haired girl, that Himeko's sure she's never met before, stands idly, taking in the Express.

Visitors to the Express are an expectation, and yet Himeko can't help but watch curiously as the interloper walks around. She peers over the edge of her novel, teacup stopped halfway to her lips. She'd like to think every visitor is a friend, but of course she is not so naive. Threats must be assessed quickly, and allies should earn a proper Nameless greeting.

"Hello there," she offers. Her coffee must be put on hold, for now. "Welcome aboard the Astral Express. I don't think we've met. I am Himeko, a Nameless, and navigator. Who are you...?"

The main body of the Astral Express had their own assignments; what better time then now, Himeko reasoned, for a small expedition of her own? Ready partners from the Intelligentsia's Guild had made the prep work easy enough. As she stepped out into the dark of the planet's surface, she swallowed a great big breath of this new world.

Supposedly, the expedition had been assigned in order to ascertain the whereabouts of new life. No doubt that there was someone from the Genius Society or Alchemy commission that had leveled their interests early on -- but there was nothing to invest in as of yet. It was to be a passive search, for Himeko at least.

With the press of a button, two small pods are dislodged from the bag slung across her hip, hitting the ground with a soft thud. No sooner do they make contact, but they whirr to life. Brilliant light spin out from their small bodies, lighting up the ground around Himeko. The pods hover loyally nearby, seemingly awaiting her next command.

Himeko turns to her neared companion, gesturing with a gloved hand to her humble lightshow. "Shall we, then?"