i’m in.

Na didn’t have to wait for long: an older gentleman made his way into the lobby to greet her and led her back down a hallway and into a room that looked much more like what she’d been expecting: wooden shelves, bottles and bottles of wines stacked high around them.

     “Mx. Anatheme,” he greeted as the two of them walked. “We’re so pleased to have you here. Now, I’ve set aside a few options based on the information you sent us ahead for your order, if you’ll come right this way–”

There was a table, in the room, a few glasses, a bucket, several different bottles lined up. 

     “Yes,” she answered, casting a discerning eye over the different bottles as if already making note of them. Even from the labels, she couldn’t tell the difference in quality, just which ones were reds and whites, the various kinds. “We’re looking for your finest, for this event; our client will accept no less.”

     “Of course, of course, and that’s what we’ve got here– here, why don’t we start out with a Caldera red. This one here,” he said, picking up one of the bottles to show her the label and the name, “is from the Proteus Caldera region, just south of here.”

      “And the year?” she asked, remembering Lux’s note, waiting for Lux to give her an assessment of the rest of the information he’d given her and doing her best to look like she knew what she was looking at.

Lux listened carefully as the conversation moved into the testing. Caldera red, not her favorite but one of the higher-shelf varieties. While she preferred red wine, most vintages from the south of Demeter gave her a headache. Her personal taste, though, was neither here nor there. Performing a quick search on the performance of that region’s reds, she found about what she expected. Generally excellent standards except for a few outlier seasons. 

“This is mostly a fine choice but not the top of the top,” she relayed. Now that Na was in the presence of someone else, she pitched her voice a little lower, just to be sure that the man from the vineyard didn’t overhear anything. This wine was good, good enough for Alba’s establishment, certainly. But likely not quality enough for this job. 

Over the link, she heard the man denote it as 2997 vintage. Scrolling through the information, Lux scanned the notes on that particular year. “Needs a few more years before it’s gonna really be at its best.”

Now on to the actual tasting. “Okay, this is a quick sell not a whole tasting, so don’t worry about spending too much time on the glass. Hold it up to the light, and squint a little bit. Then give it a little swirl, sniff just at the rim of the glass, and taste it.” She had seen clients and escorts themselves do this countless times. Luckily Na wouldn’t need to fake much more than the pantomime. “If you want to get fancy, say something about its ‘polish’ and ‘light body.’ Otherwise, just tell him that this one is not quite mature enough and that we’ll need something far more impressive.”

Despite her initial nerves at being in the colony where she had committed her crimes, Lux is enjoying the return to Dionysus, to decadence and upscale and exclusivity. Sure, the people are as horrid as she remembered, but the fashion, the food... Lux intends to enjoy her time back in the pocket of wealth and conspicuous consumption. 

But she doesn’t necessarily intend to spend it alone. Her heels only give her the slightest extra height so Lux still has to do a bit of straining as she searches for the tips of metal horns in the crowd. Between her mission with Na, their mission to find a hand, and the shopping that had to be done, it had been a few days since Lux had seen Nero. There’s something heavy at the center of her chest, something that bursts into bubbles when she thinks of seeing them again: she misses them. In a way unlike what had been before. 

There aren’t words for it, at least not in Lux’s vocabulary. For what shifted between them, since that moment in the greenhouse, since that night that Nero held her... She can’t even be sure that it isn’t all just in her head. Whatever it is, though, it makes her a little more sensitive to everything about Nero, as if they have the intensity on them turned way up. 

It isn’t long before she does spot Nero, their mask and the glitter of their boots. She beams under her mask and, once she reaches them, drops her hand to their shoulder. “Hi,” she says eagerly. “You look amazing.” And then, as she’s taking in the whole of their outfit, she sees it. The hand, where there had been none before. “Oh,” she exclaims softly. Her hands cup this new one, fingers running along the lace of the gloves covering it, trailing up to their elbow. There’s nothing spectacular about it, except that it’s there when it wasn’t before. Yet Lux can’t take her eyes off it for a moment.

But then she tips her face back up to smile at Nero, bright and shining even through her mask. “You really look amazing, Nero.” They do, all of them.

      location: Strauss family estate, near the game tables       time: early in the party           ( @luxlev )

Of all the bloody places in the world.

There was one planet in the entire goddamn galaxy on which Dante Kinnear was not legally allowed to set foot, and this was it: it had been a condition of his exile, a promise made by his mother on his behalf, the alternative a lifetime spent in prison. Stripped of his medical license, Dante Kinnear was supposed to go far away and never set foot on Dionysus again.

And yet, here he was. Face obscured by a full-face mask – a plague doctor, just a touch of irony to it – so that no one would detect him for who he really was, desperately trying his best not to get sucked into the thing he had once known how to do best: party like a Dionysian, the alcohol flowing freely, the drugs even more so.

     “Alright, kid?” he asked, settling down next to Lux, his voice muffled by the mask. It was hard to tell what she was looking at, through her own mask – really, they were damn impractical for anything except hiding who you were. He wasn’t sure why anyone thought it was a great idea for a party, but then again, he’d been to parties with far more ridiculous themes in his youth here.

At first, Lux’s plan was to go as a fox. Fox in the hen-house. Only she would have gotten the joke but it made her grin to herself nonetheless. But then she had found the stunning dress and a fawn seemed to match better. There was something to be said, too, for not giving away just how clever you thought yourself to be. 

Especially when your plan for most of the night was to sit at the poker table, count cards, and rake in the credits.

Which is exactly what she was doing, pleased smile just hidden under her mask. It was nice to have the mask, the fake identity, to shield her from her former crimes. No doubt there were a few of her old acquaintances in the room. It would mean disaster if they recognized her. But she had grown considerably since they would have last seen her and with the mask and costume aside, Lux had nothing to worry about.

Her own crew, however, was a different story. “Hush!” she hissed sharply as Dante came over, sprawled next to her. Her eyes tracked the dealer’s hands discreetly, counting and adding tallies to the sums in her head. “You’ll distract me,” she told the medic. 

And then, once she had readjusted all the odds of the deck with the new hand, she whispered in a sing-song to him, barely moving her lips, “I’m counting cards, idiot.” The round  of betting started and she had a moment she she said, more audibly, “How are you enjoying your night so far?”

Looking up from their cigarette, they finally deigned to take in the person they had been speaking to. She was unfamiliar, but then, it was rare that they stood around on the street smoking outside of shops. They made no secret of looking her over, searching for a trace of familiarity as if there was something they might’ve missed, especially as she said that she was searching for a tailor for the same event. That brought a small frown to Baz’s face, but it smoothed quickly, assuming she was someone that should’ve been known if she was invited to their employer’s masquerade. 

Her smile was charming and had a sort of practiced beauty to it that made them wonder if it was something she had spent years perfecting consciously, or if someone had told her to smile that way. Nothing threatening about her on the outside, seemingly, but they had long learned that that meant nothing when it came to strangers, especially with such egregious rumors floating around about them at the moment. 

“Lucky, indeed. I’ve saved you from a world of trouble,” Baz hummed raising an eyebrow. They paused to take another drag from their cigarette, eyes still on her. “You say you’re headed to the masquerade as well, but unfortunately I can’t recall your face, although I thought I knew most everyone who has confirmed attendance. If you don’t mind me asking, who are you?” The tone made it clear they didn’t particularly care if she did mind the question or not, the answer much more important.

There was a moment of unchecked fear as the other person took in her appearance. She hadn’t spoken without considering -- they were clearly of the upper-class. What if they had come to Alba’s while she was there? What if they recognized her? She held her face as neutral as possible, tilting her head to the side as if awaiting his judgment. That was something she knew well at least: the discerning gaze of someone sizing her up, assessing her ever aspect.

“I’m indebted, then,” she teased back, smile still bright. At the question, her smile shifted to more a smirk. They might be suspicious of her at the moment, but she did have an answer and an invitation. Which meant that them not knowing her would just make her a mystery. She hoped that would be intriguing in some way. People always wanted to impress an intrigue. 

“Shera Sender,” she offered, extending her hand delicately. The first name was stolen from an android on Hemera that Lux knew, the surname from a transporter that Lux had traveled with a few years back. Her borrowed name for the masquerade, made to be worn just like a costume. “You must be important, if you have such intimate knowledge of the guest list. Is there anyone I should avoid? Like this tailor?”

She nodded in reply at the reminder of the vital information she needed, before remembering that Lux couldn’t actually see her over their covert connection, and then amended herself: “Okay. Sounds simple enough. Wish me luck, I suppose.”

Miles Anatheme. She could do this. And if she floundered, Lux would feed her things to say to make her sound intelligent – not something she ordinarily had an issue with, but in the wide array of subjects in which she was endlessly knowledgeable, business and wine were not among them. The most she knew about wine was that she liked to drink it and she didn’t much give a shit what kind anymore. 

She approached the door, holding the identification badge Lux had given her up to the digital lock and entered when it clicked open, letting her into a small and brightly-lit lobby, cleaner than she’d expected given all the dust and dirt on the road outside, the rustic-looking appearance of the outside of the building.

     “Anatheme,” she said, to a secretary of some kind sitting behind the desk, trying her best to sound confident, or at least non-plussed. “Miles. I’m here to place an order.”

“You don’t need luck,” Lux assured Na over the link. She knew that she had thoroughly done her part of the job. All that was left was Na convincing the vineyard to sell to them. Convincing people, Lux knew, was easily within Na’s skillset. Even if wine wasn’t. She listening as Na greeted someone, likely just an assistant.

On her datapad, Lux pulled up the clone of the vineyard’s server she had accessed. It allowed her to see any of the activity within their network, so she could monitor when they looked up Na’s legend. If there were any gaps or anything she hadn’t accounted for, she could fill it all in. Lux watched as someone in the surface level checked a digital schedule and found ‘Anatheme, Miles’ on the list. 

“So far, so good,” she muttered softly into the mic, hoping not to startle Na. “Remember, you want to ask for their best stuff, the top of the top, for this event. You’re willing to pay for it, but don’t let them know it. They’ll probably try to screw you just a little bit. They should tell you the name, region, and date of the wine but if they don’t make sure you ask that before you taste it.” That way, Lux could tell Na how to react if they tried to pass off something lower. She expected the vineyard to maybe give second-from-the-top first, to see if they could get away with overcharging.

just past noon, outside of a luxury tailor’s shop, the center of semele          ( open. )

There were several problems stacking up on their plate at the moment. The threat of indictment, of course, being the worst, the elaborate plan to sink the man they worked for, being a very close second, if only because it was perhaps more time sensitive than the first. But the one on their mind just now, was the problem of the costume. The masquerade was the perfect opportunity to assert their innocence of the rumors and implications, while also setting up Strauss for his grand fall, which they already believed would be simple enough, considering all that they knew of what he got on with behind closed doors. But to do that, they needed to look the part. And that was apparently easier said than done in Semele, considering the terrible luck Baz had had with tailors so far in the city, many being either too daunted by the task of such an elaborate costume, or altogether.

The thought of facing life in high-security prison was almost more appealing than going back into the shop and trying, for the third time, to explain that black and onyx were not the same color, and that the fabric they were being shown was most certainly just black. They stood outside the shop, leaning against the window, smoking, only vaguely watching the passersby. Until, that was, someone made to go into the shop. They straightened up, feeling it was their duty to save another poor soul from the horror they’d been experiencing.

“If you’re in search of a quality tailor, I’d look elsewhere,” Baz sighed in a puff of smoke. “I’ve come in for alterations and he still seems vexed by what I asked for. It’ll be a wonder if he has the costume ready in time for the masquerade, but I’ve spent too much to give up now. Not sure how Ludomire had such luck here…”

Being back on Dionysus was strange. On the one hand, Lux felt the need to constantly look over her shoulder in a way that wasn’t present on other colonies. Yes, they were criminals wherever they went. She was as much a fugitive on Oceanus as she was here, but there was something about the fact that her crimes had been committed here, on this colony. 

The person she killed had died here.

On the other hand, though... Dionysus. It was everything that had ever been home to Lux. Everything she had grown up around, had indulged in, it was all here. It was easy to say that she preferred her life as it was now than living at Alba’s for a million reasons or more. But that didn’t mean she didn’t sometimes get that nostalgic longing for the skeins of satin, brilliant flora, and the make-up. No one on Erebus appreciated Lux’s fashion sense. Not the way it could be appreciated on this colony.

But that fashion sense had been fostered and nurtured in private at Alba’s -- on the best tailors and dressers for the ladies. So she was a little at a loss searching for her own resources, but there were a few names she remembered and had looked up. She thought she had chosen a safe one, but the stranger on her way in made her second guess. 

“Oh?” she asked, already heaving a disappointed sigh. “That’s quite the let-down.” Her smile re-lit at their mention of the party, of Ludomire Strauss, though. Jackpot, she thought to herself. “I’m in need for the same event,” she revealed. It was stunning, how easily her demeanor of the past came back to her. At one docile, charming and altogether pleasing. “I suppose I’ll have to search elsewhere. I can’t really afford the time of fussing with someone who won’t provide me what I need.” Turning the full brilliance of her smile on to the stranger, she added, “Isn’t it lucky that I came across you here?”

A code to cry, to experience sadness in the same way humans did. It was not something that they had thought about before, but it was intriguing, to think of what it meant to be so easily able to move closer to humanity. For now, though, Nero was more focused on the way her body fit against theirs, the way she nestled against them so perfectly, limbs tangled together, bodies pressed close. It was something they hoped they might have again, after this moment, although they were not sure what wanting that meant.

Mortality was a funny thing. It was not something that they thought of often, because it was not something they had ever felt the need to worry about. They could not die in the sense that humans could, after all. Yes, their body could be destroyed, their data corrupted, but they knew there was a copy of their data somewhere, even if they did not know where. Even if every piece of them was destroyed, every piece gone, it would not be the same; they did not feel pain, they did not have to think about what happened after life, because life was not truly theirs. Now, though, as Lux spoke, running fingers over their jaw, they realized that perhaps that was not what humans’ fear of death was about. Perhaps they had misunderstood. 

Because it meant leaving the people they cared for behind, it meant sadness that you could not heal, it meant a little piece of their lives gone. They were seeing that now. They realized, as they looked back at her, that more than anything they did not want to do that to her, did not want to leave her alone where they could not be. “I am, too. I am glad you’re safe…I do not want to leave you, and I do not want you to leave me, either,” they said, voice quiet, a soft frown furrowing their brow as they came to the realization.

“I won’t,” she promised quietly, letting her eyes shut. Letting herself be lulled into the illusion that what she felt on their chest was a heartbeat. “I won’t leave, unless you want me to.” She hoped they would never ask that of her. But, if they did, she would honor it. After all, that’s what she wanted most for them. To be able to decide on their desires, and verbalize them. 

Sighing a little, Lux felt another wave of sadness pass over her. Another reminder of Imogen, gone and committed to the black of space. “Nero?” she asked in a small voice. “Would you read some Bell, please?” That would help. Bell always helped. Their words would calm her and maybe even lull her to sleep. She knew that Nero had pages upon pages of their work memorized, stored, in their banks. Bell’s words, from Nero’s mouth. Yes, that would help.

     location: Harner’s Vineyard, main office, southern Demeter      time: mid-afternoon, a few days before landing on Dionysus           ( @luxlev ) 

Public speaking had never bothered Na, after years of lecturing, but even still, performance wasn’t her strong suit. She wasn’t entirely certain why Quino had picked her to be the one to waltz into a vineyard on Demeter and pretend she was an actual merchant, but at least she had Lux backing her up.

Lux had hacked into– who knew how many separate systems, making her a new identification and setting things up so that she’d be able to get in, get the wine, and get out without a hitch, provided she was capable of keeping her cool. But it still felt like a lot riding on her ability to pretend she was someone she wasn’t. 

She made her way down the long road towards the main building on the vineyard’s wide expanse of land, checking the communicator tucked into her ear. It had been a while since she’d been on a planet with this much space, not crowded into a busy port city. But at least the risk of someone finding her here was low. 

     “Okay, Lux, I’m approaching the office,” she said, trying to look like she wasn’t just talking to herself. “Can you run me through my cover one more time?” 

Lux was a few lengths off, trying to look inconspicuous. Which, it appeared, was difficult in Demeter. The colony spread with dusty expanse and Lux hated it. She felt bad for hating it. Recognized that something about her hate was likely biased. But still. She hated how primitive it all felt, how close she had to be to link into any network. How very brown it all was.

But it would just be a quick job. Being serving girl for Alba had taught her more than enough about wine and its finer qualities. And anything she didn’t already know was at her fingertips. All so she could relay the information to Na, so they could impress their seller and get them the wine necessary for the longer con. This was just step one - a minor lift.

“You’re Miles Anatheme,” she related in a flat tone, scrolling through code, over the communication device. She’s had already done the heavily lifting for this -- Na had an identity that would pass muster. If the vineyard seller thought to look them up, they’d find that they were a well-respected merchant with a reputation for expanding the businesses of those they were patron to. Absently, Lux wondered what Nero was doing, thinking, feeling. They were off with Nila and the medic, to find them a replacement hand.

“You buy wine, supply it to lavish events and thus raise the profile of vineyards like this one. But you’ll want to just allude to that. They’ll search your name and see all that on their own and want to sell to you from that alone. They’d be stupid not too.”

Lux hoped, desperately, that this would be an easy trip. She wanted to be back on the ship, safe. She wanted to be on the way to Dionysus. She wanted to have Nero in her sight-line.

This sort of closeness was something that they had begun to desire very quickly after finding themself freed, even if they had not understood why. Now that they were here with Lux, their bodies pressed together, though, they were beginning to realize why, perhaps, that desire had started, and why it was something so innate to humans. The physical mimicked the emotional; it was a concrete confirmation of how people felt about each other. And this? This was confirmation that they were here for her, and vice versa, even if perhaps she did not realize at this moment what that meant to them as well.

It was easy to get lost in the sensation of being so close to her, especially as she moved to press her forehead to theirs. They were quiet, taking in the way they could feel the rise and fall of her breath, her heat radiating to them, the way they could count her eyelashes, how they wished they had another hand to wipe away the remainder of her tears. It was not the first time they had thought that she was beautiful, but it was different, somehow.

The feeling of her fingers rubbing over their cheek threatened again for them to lose their train of thought. Luckily her question gave them something to focus on, although they did not fully understand why she was asking. For a moment, they worried that perhaps the answer would disappoint her, that knowing how far from human they were would cause her sit up and move away from them, and they did not want to lose this moment. “No, unless there is a mechanism I do not know about, that has not been triggered yet, which is doubtful. But…” they paused, frowning slightly, “I am beginning to believe that I can feel the same sadness that causes that response in humans. Even though I was not programmed to do so.”

She wasn’t really sure why she had asked. What answer she was expecting, or hoping for. She only nodded in response -- that seemed to make sense. Something in her was glad for it, that Nero wouldn’t cry. But then it also seemed like it might be a terrible fate. To be sad, so immensely sad, but to be unable to cry. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I could write you a code for it.” A simple solution. If only there were a code for Imogen. To heal her, bring her back.

Sighing, Lux shifted. Slipping down their body just a bit, she tucked her head into the pocket of their neck. It was strange, to lay like this, pressed so close, in a platonic manner. Her legs tangled with theirs, her chest against theirs... But then, was it platonic? Was there not something tremulous about the way they had shared gazes? Or the way Nero had held her? Did it matter? Whatever the answers, she liked this. This closeness, the feel of Nero, the single bed.

“I’m glad you came back,” she said. One hand was curled into her own side but the other moved to rest against their jaw. Her fingertips just grazed their hair. “From Minos, and the wreckage. I’m glad that you came back okay, alive.” She didn’t think about whether it was technically possible for Nero to die. If something like that did happen, she hoped that she would be able to wire them back into existence somehow. She hoped.

Quino’s eyes widened slightly at Lux’s words. He hadn’t meant to offend her, but apparently he had been quite proficient at sticking his foot in his mouth lately. Not long ago he had had the same type of conversation with Fox, their eyes becoming steel when Quino suggested they might not be up to the task. Bunch of proud criminals, his crew. “I don’t underestimate you, Lux. If I did, trust me, I wouldn’t be asking for your help,” he said, not wanting to fight the kid on what he meant or didn’t mean to say. Despite how much he hated being corrected like this, he was too tired to get into it. 

Luckily, Lux didn’t linger and Quino moved on with his story, anxiousness filling his chest every time the girl wrote something down. There were records now, of how he had opened his mouth after ten years. If he was lucky, Julian wouldn’t be looking out for him, wouldn’t be alerted of it after so many years. Or maybe he did, and Quino had just signed his death sentence. Either way, he didn’t exactly expect to leave that particular altercation alive. “You’re really annoying, you know? Gather all the information you need. Just… lie to me when I ask you if you haven’t read the rest of my private files. I’d like to have some manner of dignity,” he sighed. At least Nero had been kind enough to respect his privacy. Damn humans, always ruining everything. Machines were so superior. “By the way, Nero said he was willing to help you with this. Work with it. Them. Whatever, fuck if I know.” 

Lux managed to surprise him once more by sharing her story. Of course he had some idea of what his crew had gone through before he took them in - he wasn’t an idiot and he still had enough contact to do background checks -, but still the fact that she told him was surprising. Lux had always been one of the most difficult to read, to find information about. A mystery, that one. And now he knew something in return for his trust. It would’ve been very gratifying, if the situation around them wasn’t so exhausting. “Thank you for telling me,” he said and smiled in return, his hand squeezing hers for a moment before finally picking up his coffee and drinking the first sip. 

Lux barely flicked an unbothered look his way as he categorized her as annoying. Not like she had gone poking around in anyone’s data, unless she needed it. But she had, you know, poked through all their protocols, just to see that she could. It had been pathetically easy. When the Captain mentioned dignity she let out a scoff. Sure, dignity among criminals... 

Taking another swallow from her coffee, Lux easily worked her way into the Captain’s files. It didn’t take long before she was looking at his logs on this man, this Julian Steger. “I won’t read anything I don’t need to Captain,” she assured him a mock little salute. But then her eyes went stone cold and flashed with something dangerous. No one was allowed to talk about Nero like that, not around Lux. Not even the Captain. Sure, it was just a slight insult and she had heard worse of androids outside of the ship. But she had hoped that the rest of them had learned enough to know that Nero was not it. There was more to them than some machine, than the data that Lux hacked into, than the controls that Noa used to fly. “Them,” she corrected with a poison edge. “Not it. Them.”

She softened, though, when he offered a hand to hers. Lux didn’t like contact, physical or otherwise, really. But she knew this is what people did. What families did. So she allowed the contact and even offered him a brief smile in response. “I’ll connect with Nero, see how they can help. And we’ll keep you updated.”

They were equipped to handle so much, had seen so much themself of violence and pain, and yet seeing Lux’s grief pained them in a way they could not properly describe, almost as if her emotions were their own. It was a human thing, having to deal with death, and what it meant, something they had never had to think about, but now they felt almost foolish for never considering what it meant to humans before. Of course it was strange, for a person’s existence to suddenly vanish, one moment there, the next gone, even if they were not close. But they did not have any insight to make the terrifying nature of mortality less so, and they wished, in that moment, that they did.

Letting her pull then down with her, they shifted so that they were closer to her, tentatively wrapped an arm around her, hoping that the closeness might offer some comfort. This was not something they had ever done, lied there with a human, pressed so close, holding onto each other. They realized, in the back of their processors, that perhaps it was something they had wanted with Lux for longer than they realized. Just to be close.

Their bodies fit together well, it was easy to pull her closer to their chest, to brush their fingers over her back, hoping to give even the slightest comfort. In the absence of reason, of explanation, perhaps this was enough. “I know. None of it makes sense,” they said quietly, as she buried her face against their chest, clinging to them. “It is not fair that life is so precious, but so fragile. But I am here. And I am not going anywhere.”

The press of Nero’s body helped some, in a way that she couldn’t explain. Just to have them close, to have the certainty of their body against hers. To have their hand along her back, the pressure of their embrace. They were there. They were there with her and, as they said, not going anywhere. They were going to be there with her through it.

“Thank you,” she said, against their chest, after a long moment. After she had calmed her crying. After she could breath and see straight once more. “That helps.” Her fingers loosened over their shirt and rubbed their gently. The soothing softness of it, the solidness of Nero beneath. 

Lifting her head slowly, she pressed her forehead to theirs. She held her stare as long as she could -- this close, this long, she could see the android innards. The tick and whirl. It didn’t unnerve her, though. Something about it was calming. Or maybe that was just Nero. “Hey,” she asked quietly, steadily. “Can you cry?” She brought up a hand and drew her fingers down their cheek.

Another misfit toy, then, like him, tossed out by the motherworld Dionysus and left to fend among the stars. They’d have to talk about it, sometime, the two of them. Once a crewmate wasn’t in critical condition. Talk about their homeworld and all the wrong it had done them, reminisce about the lights and sounds. He had no plans of ever going back, not when he’d just barely scraped by getting out of there in one piece. 

She seemed to young to have gotten into any real trouble there– though, then again, he’d gotten into plenty of trouble younger than that, only buoyed by the financial life vest that was his parents’ protective shield keeping him from actually reaping the punishment from any of those actions. 

     “I’ll let you know,” he agreed, with a nod, and then, though he didn’t really have anything he did need her to do, seeing the lost look on her face, added, “You could take a look at the displays in medbay, when you get a chance. This is grand but… the more the merrier.” 

Of course there wasn’t anything for her to do then. She wasn’t a medic and that was pretty much the only help that could be given at this time. Medical attention. That’s what Imogen needed. So she just nodded, tipped her head back down over her data-pad. Maybe it was time to shift back to her cabin, then. Back to her bunk.

But then Dante spoke again. And she could tell that he was just humoring her. Just offering her a chance to keep busy. But she would take it. Rising suddenly, Lux nodded. “Yeah, okay. Like I said, I’m not much for hardware, but... But I can try.” She could try. She knew enough about the wiring and conditioning of those things to get somewhere. She’d probably have to ask Katya after a point, though. 

She looked, then, in the direct of the Infirmary. The screens were there, in there. With Imogen. She swallowed. Would it be hard to see Imogen? Like that? Would it be just like her friend was sleeping. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Don’t underestimate him, Lux. He’s got resources, hackers, the best of the best. You’re either absolutely certain he won’t notice or you don’t do it at all. I can’t have your blood on my hands, too,” Quino warned her urgently but his words were too much, too vulnerable, too telling. He visibly flinched at them, but continued on, bypassing his own coffee in favor of taking another big swig straight from the bottle. 

It took him a second to speak, preferring to remain silent and solemn for a while and avoid Lux’s eyes. Was he really about to tell her of his past? It wasn’t that big of a deal, really and still it made him nervous. With a deep breath and an even longer exhale, he wrapped his hands around his cup of coffee and started talking. “Oh, it’s definitely more than just a few credits,” he snorted, finally meeting her eyes. “Let’s bypass my whole sob story of a childhood but the thing is, I was born in Demeter and I needed money to eat, so I joined a gang. Avernus was its name. Still is, I guess. You’ve heard of it, everyone has. Anyway. I stayed with them for many years and eventually, moved up the ranks until I became second in command. Osiris.” 

And here it was. The moment of truth. Ten years keeping keeping the secret of the leader’s identity and he was about to break his silence for his own revenge. Em would be pissed when they figured out the first one to know Anubis’s name was Lux and not them. “Anubis, they call him. Our leader. But his name’s Julian Steger. We got involved in an altercation on Dionysus about ten years ago. Many died and some others fled but they managed to capture me to use me as bait for him. He, of course, grabbed his ship and the rest of the crew and left me to rot in a cell.” His tone was fiercer now, angrier, but his eyes closed like it almost pained him to get the next words out. “I can give you access to all my logs on him. All I’ve gathered, the gang’s last whereabouts, everything.” 

Lux flinched too at the captain’s comment, unprepared. But his worry wasn’t warranted in her opinion. “I don’t underestimate anyone,” she told him, eyes stone. “So don’t underestimate me. I haven’t once let you down yet and when I can’t do a job, I tell you.” Lux knew her limits and she took pride in that fact. But she had been weaving her way through coding for so many years that it was as if the digits were in her very bloodstream. 

She was quiet, thoughtful, as Quino revealed the bare bones of his past to her. Avernus -- he was right, she had heard of it. No more than anyone else, likely, but enough to know what it was, what it dealt in. Without really even meaning to, Lux fished her datapad out and began making notes of what he told: Demeter, Avernus, Osirus & Anubis. Dionysus, 3009. (She would have just arrived at Alba’s at that point...) And, of course: Julian Steger. Once he finished, Lux took a moment to sip at her coffee, savor the burn and the flavor of it. “We’ll pretend I need you to grant me access,” she said, corner of her mouth curving into a smirk. “But yeah, I’ll need all that information.” 

Her fingers twitched over her pad as she considered what had just transpired. Quino had told her something that he obviously didn’t like sharing, that was obviously painful for him. “I...” Her throat clicked as she tried to forge forward. “I was an orphan on Dionysus. Or I was given up. Whatever, I ended up working at an escort house. At first it was just doing menial sort of work but then... Well.” She shrugged, letting him come to the conclusion himself. “When I ran, I left behind a wake of destruction.” She let a long pause stretch between them before explaining, “Now we both know about the other.” Quid pro quo and all that.

“A nip’s fine. But if you finish it, you’ll be getting a new one to replace it,” Quino warned her, grabbing the bottle and taking a long swing. It warmed him from the inside out, making his fingers tingle pleasantly. For a moment he wondered when he had eaten for the last time but couldn’t remember. Breakfast, probably, but he’d been so busy checking on everyone that hunger had been an issue yet. A strange thing to say, specially for him. “It certainly is. Apparently we just drink to death or big bounties. A shame, really. Maybe we should make some new rules. Celebrate a few holidays.” 

It was empty talk, just something to keep the silence from becoming too much, too deafening, but it still brought comfort to him. He quietly thanked Lux for the coffee and poured a generous amount of whiskey into both of their cups, setting the bottle aside. “Figured it wouldn’t,” he shrugged and instead, entwined his fingers in front of him over the table, looking at Lux with a blank, almost too serious expression.

There was no backing out now. After his conversation with Nero, the possibility of finding Anubis had been clouding his thoughts. It was a risk, and he wasn’t a big fan of oversharing, but perhaps if the kids found him, he would finally be rid of the ghosts of his past. It was, at the very least, worth a shot. 

“There’s a man I want you to find, if you’re able. He used to be an old friend of mine and now I need to know his whereabouts. Thing is, he can’t know I’m tracking him. He’s very dangerous, Lux. Extremely so, and he’ll kill every single one of us if he knows we’re doing this. So if you and Nero can do it without being tracked, good. Otherwise, I’ll do it the conventional way. We can’t take any risks. Not with him. Is that something you can do?”

She just nodded as Quino spoke, only absently aware of what he was saying, really. Stirring the healthy dose of whiskey he had added, she let the mug warm her hands a moment. It wasn’t long, though, before he moved on. And Lux found she was grateful. Maybe there was something rattling at her ribcage to talk about what was happening, how she was processing. But she didn’t want to. Didn’t want to cup her hands around that vulnerable, delicate part of her and expose it to Quino. To anyone, really.

She arched an eyebrow, interested, as he laid out the favor. Extremely dangerous didn’t sound great. Especially all that had happened in the past few days. “If I can do it at all, I can absolutely do it without him detecting me,” she said confidently. “I’d need everything you can possibly tell me about him, though,” she laid out, mind already pacing ahead. “I mean, everything.”

Finally, she lifted her mug and took a generous sip. The soothing heat of the coffee and the smooth burn of the whiskey... Her chest seared pleasantly for a split second from it. “I take it this is something more than just him owing you credits or something?” she asked, half-expecting her to fuck off with her questions.