James Holden

“Yeah, that sounds exactly like you, Holden.”

Last time they were on Eros, the damn guy seemed to be looking for piles of shit to step in.

“Want me to talk to Naomi? Maybe I can convince her to stay behind completely, give us radio support. We probably don’t need two engineers down there.”

Amos looked up at Holden, giving him his full attention. “That, you didn’t even have to ask. We’ll do what we gotta do out there, but say the word and I’ll get her back onto the Roci.” He reached a hand out, plopped it onto Holden’s shoulder. Physical gestures like that seemed to make people take you more seriously. “You can always count on me to keep Naomi safe.”

Another thought came to him. “But if I do have to leave with her, who’s gonna look out for you?”

Holden was surprised at the sudden show of what might have been considered affection. He smiled before he knew why. Despite everything, despite their differences, Holden trusted Amos implicitly in this. Naomi would be safe.

Amos grunted, turned back to the disassembled motor spread all around him. He hated when the chain of command asked him to split loyalties like this. At least Naomi and the captain didn’t do it to him very often. 

He trusted Holden. But he also knew Naomi never got pissed unless she had a very good reason. “Why don’t you just tell me what you’re thinking, and then we can decide together if it’s worth both of us being in the doghouse for a while.”

Holden took a deep breath and took comfort in the plastic and ozone smell of the air recyclers as he stepped fully into the room and pulled himself up on the assembly table. “I know that she will want to be there. Out there. With us.”, he scratched his palms against the edge of the table. “But ... I’ve seen what’s out there.”

Ceres station. It felt odd being back. Not only because the station had changed after everything that had happened and, should they be identified, they were in grave danger, but because they weren’t back for Pur’n’Kleen. It had a strange, dreamy quality.

Bad dreams. 

Everything ached. His skin felt like it wanted to come off and his insides felt liquefied. It was worse than any prolonged high g burn and juice hangover he’d had combined. Somehow, the fact that Miller in the bed right beside him probably wasn’t faring any better made him feel less shit about it.