#or whatever xiomara made my tag

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 71

Thank you to @satan-parisienne for being my #1 beta reader and literally writing half this chapter.  So many conversations between us are captured in their essence when Sophia and Tyche interact, but this was such a rare opportunity to transcribe such a conversation. 

There are so many other people I want to thank, but if I thank all of you, this post would be literally just tags. So, I want to include @baelpenrose and @anotherusrname for also being there for everything that doesn’t make it into this story, and @charlylimph-blog for being the light and joy in the world that I wish I could be. 

No worries, this isn’t the last chapter, I just had a really rough week from a mental health perspective.  The show will go on.

At some point during the night, Xiomara vanished with the gorgeous artist. This left my sister, Charly, and myself to annoy Sebastian until the guys could come and rescue… someone.  I wasn’t sure if they saved us or the poor pub-owner. All I could remember after Xiomara leaving was Charly deciding Conor was a good chair: intending to sit on her stool, she had unceremoniously climbed in his lap instead. After some wiggling to figure out the difference, she had pronounced the chair to be soft and warm.

With a snort of laughter that made my eyes water, I had to explain that it wasn’t the chair she was practically wallowing in, it was my boyfriend’s lap. With a very serious look at his face, she had only patted his beard and announced that she understood why I kept him since he was so comfortable and warm. That was the point when Coffey scooped her up, tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and took a still-waving Charly home, and everything else kind of blurred together.

As for myself, I woke up the next morning being tortured for my sins. Someone had decided to play a recording of a cement mixer over a looped track of a chainsaw, at full volume, targeted straight at my ears. Groaning in pain, I covered my ears and quickly realized I didn’t have enough hands to also cover my eyes. The chainsaw stopped abruptly and I felt the mattress dip to my left. I cracked my eye when an arm nudged mine. Maverick was handing me a cup full of something that was quickly snatched away when I tried to sniff it. He brought it back with a pointed look, so I placed my faith in him and chugged it.

If it smelled half as bad as it tasted, no wonder he wouldn’t let me take a whiff – only every shred of self-control I hadn’t exercised the night before kept the concoction my stomach. It tasted like analgesic, so I assumed if I kept it down, the hangover would go away eventually. That didn’t make the act of forcing it to stay in my stomach any easier.

When I no longer felt like my brain was trying to escape my skull through judicious use of a sledgehammer, I took a deep breath and braved opening my eyes. What little light there was in our bedroom was no longer cleverly crafted from sharp objects, and the cement mixer had been replaced by Conor snoring away to my right.

“He took the late shift to make sure you all got home safe,” Maverick whispered softly. “So I agreed to be the one to deal with your hangover.” When I glared at the empty cup he had taken from me, he shrugged and smirked at me. “Analgesic, electrolyte solution, and an anti-emetic.”

“No wonder it tasted like ass,” I grumbled.

Jokingly, he waved a hand in front of his nose before pinching it. “I think you’re just tasting your mouth, honestly.  You really need to brush your teeth.”

Scowling, I ran my tongue over the inside of my teeth – and immediately regretted it. Did I eat a dead rat or something? I whimpered to myself before staggering to scrub the taste of whatever it was out of my mouth.  After a rather prolonged date with my toothbrush as well as a shower, I managed to walk much more gracefully into the kitchen to get some coffee.  Conor had already beat me to it, however, handing me a steaming cup as I walked in. He carefully ruffled my hair – I was still struggling with flashbacks – and bent down so I could kiss his cheek.

I pulled back and arched an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want that kiss from someone else?” I teased.

“You would never believe how awkward that was,” he deadpanned, rolling his eyes. “Charly’s a nice girl, but I got my hands full with you two. Sides, she’s a bit much for me, you catch my drift.” He gave me a pout and tapped his cheek again.

Giggling, I obliged before going to sit on the couch and putting my head on Maverick’s shoulder. “Do I smell better?” I yawned before sipping my coffee.

“Much,” he exhaled gratefully.

I snuggled in further, now that I was granted approval. “Tyche make it home okay? I’ll admit I don’t remember much.”

“Yeah, she’s fine.  Antoine took her home not long before Coffey came and got Charly.”

“They weren’t sneaky at all, you know?” As I said this, Conor walked in with a quizzical look on his face. “We knew you, Coffey, and Antoine were sitting in the opposite corner all night.  Zach showed up later, hung around for a bit, so did Simon but he headed out kind of early.”

“You weren’t supposed to know,” Conor scowled comically.

“You and Coffey are the two tallest humans on the ship.  Did you really think you were hiding? Especially with Xiomara at the table?”

“She’s got a point,” Maverick laughed. “What is it you always say? Xiomara has horse’s ears?”

Conor tipped his head back laughing. “I said I hadn’t seen her in a donkey’s ears, which just means a really long time. But yeah, I should have known she would see us.  We figured she’d be on our side, not ratting us out.”

I buried my face in Maverick’s shirt, laughing.  Sitting up, I wiped a tear from one eye. “Love.  Xiomara was in the military and trained in hand-to-hand combat, and you don’t want to see what Tyche can do in a fight.  She fights dirtier than mud.  We were safe, I promise.”

“Let us worry,” Maverick pressed a kiss to my temple. “You don’t get to hog all the overprotective instincts, you know. And besides, if any of you ladies thought that Coffey wasn’t going to be watching Charly like a hawk, you’ve lost your minds. I’ve seen what she can get up to when she’s sober. Drunk? No thank you.”

“Speaking of Charly,” I adjusted so I was sitting straighter. “Galactic education starts next week.  She told me she’s in one of the first classes.”

Maverick nodded. “Yeah, same section I’m in, I think. I didn’t recognize the teacher’s name, though.”

“At least that means we know it isn’t Simon,” Conor pointed out with a grin.

“Be nice,” I remonstrated. “Eino administered all his testing for certification, and he’s pretty impressed with Simon.  Even in the practical observation, he did a great job.”

“Wait,” Maverick ventured slowly. “If this is a new curriculum, how is there a practical observation?”

Conor shook his head before reaching forward to squeeze the other man’s knee. “The educators have to go through the course before they can teach it, just like anything else.  They’ve already been trained in how to teach, but need to know what they are teaching.”

I picked up from there with a nod. “Simon, on the other hand, is already familiar with the material but had to go through training to know how to teach. So, two birds, one stone.” Leaning forward, I flicked my wrist to bring up my datapad where everyone could see it. “Simon is one of three people who will be fully reassigned to teaching the Galactic education courses, while every other trained educator on the ship will be teaching one to three sections in addition to their existing coursework.”

“Nearly every other educator,” Conor corrected with a stern look.

“You sound like Tyche.”

“With good reason! You never told anyone you were a teacher!”

“Wait, what – “ Maverick sputtered, confused. “You were!?”

“One, I never actually taught on my own, I changed careers in my last year as a student-teacher. Two, I did tell other people! It just never really came up that often.” When Conor opened his mouth to object, I cut off the statement I knew was coming. “And I have mentioned it to the two of you, so I don’t want to hear it!”

Conor’s mouth shut with a click and realization dawned on Maverick’s face. “All those nights you were going through candidates to teach the courses… You kept saying you would make sure the program succeeded….”

“Even if I had to teach it my damned self,” I finished. “I wasn’t kidding.  All I need is about fifteen more hours practical observation, according to Eino.”

“You asked?” Conor looked skeptical.

“Well, Tyche did,” I admitted. “Just because we were having a hard time finding enough candidates to dedicate their time to just that course.”

“I thought Alistair was a teacher?”

“Librarian,” I corrected. “Totally different skill set, believe me.  I tried suggesting that he teach a section or two, and got an earful about the differences.  Ironically, he gave me a lecture about how he isn’t trained to lecture?” Shaking my head, I finished off my coffee. “Anyway, we managed to find enough teachers, so courses should start next week.”

“We should celebrate!” Maverick grinned. “A big family dinner, since we kept it small for Insert Winter Holiday. Invite everyone!”

I started counting in my head and groaned when I hit the double digits. “Mav… that’s…” Xiomara, Zach, Hannah, carry the three…. “That’s fifteen, sixteen people?  I don’t think we really even have room for everyone.  Especially if we don’t want people getting overwhelmed.”

“You and Tyche may want to talk about a family dinner rotation.” I thought Conor was joking, but a look at his face told me he was dead serious. “When there were just five of us, it was one thing, but now? The dinners the two of you make are turning into the hottest table in town.”

With a sigh, I shot a quick message to Tyche to see if she was in the land of the living.  Rather than respond, she showed up at my quarters, Antoine in tow and Mac staring balefully from her shoulders.  “Hangover remedies are revolting, but work,” she proclaimed while making a beeline for my kitchen.  Shortly, everyone was seated with a fresh cup of tea or coffee. “Now, why have I been summoned from my lair?”

I gestured to Maverick first. “Handsome number two had the idea to have a family dinner to celebrate the launch of the new education courses.” I paused for effect. “All of the family.”

Tyche sputtered and choked on her drink. “Where would we fit them all!? Neither of our quarters are anywhere approaching large enough.  We would need a small mess hall, which kind of ruins the effect.”

“I agree.  But I also agree we need to celebrate… what if we talked to Sebastian and took over the Undine for a night? It’s smaller, with dinner-style tables.”

She tipped her head side to side, thinking. “It might work.”

“Well, Handsome number one came up with another good point.” I gestured for Conor to explain.

“I just think you and Sophie should consider setting up a rotation for family dinners. Not just who is cooking,” he rushed to clarify, “but who you’re inviting. We love you girls ‘til the wheels fall off, but you adopt strays faster than most cat ladies I’ve met. Not that I’m complainin’, being part of that number!” He held up his hands in surrender. “But don’t you lasses think the ‘come one, come all’ approach is getting to be a bit much?”

To my surprise, Antoine nodded even more emphatically than Maverick did. “Sophia, Tyche, he is right. Only sheer luck and good manners have kept the two of you from being overwhelmed by your insistence on feeding anyone who arrives during your ‘family dinners’.  Inviting specific people on specific evenings may be the best idea, while also considering keeping some meals to just the five of us.”

Before the objection could even bubble up to my throat, Maverick squeezed me against him. “I can actually feel her heart breaking.” Briskly rubbing my arm, he dropped a kiss on top of my head. “Sweetheart, you and Tyche both said it yourselves: If everyone chooses to drop in on any given Wednesday, neither set of quarters have room to accommodate that.”

Tyche heaved a sigh of concession. “Okay, I definitely see the point about the ‘just us’ dinners… I’ve really missed those, honestly.  But, how do we decide rotations for everyone else? How are we supposed to make it fair?”

I sat bolt upright as her words hit me. “You. Are. A. Genius.  I actually have an answer to that!”

The expression on her face was matched by the one Mac was dishing out when my exclamation interrupted his nap. “Okay… How am I a genius right now?”

“How to make it fair.”

“So, for bringing up the question?”

I nodded my head emphatically before gulping down the rest of my coffee. “Themes.  We are going to set… five. Five themes. Culinary ones.  We are going to set… five. Five themes. And anyone who has a standing invitation to dinner will be asked to rank them, one through five, and we’ll use that to set the rotation.” I grinned triumphantly as Tyche’s face shone with realization, but then looked at the guys.

All three of them were completely lost.

“Everyone except the five of us will get the list of themes… something broad.  Not a specific dish, but a really broad type of food. They rank the five, with one being the absolute preference and five being ‘hey, not my favorite, but if Tyche or Sophia are cooking, I may give it a shot.’ The first, say, three people who ranked a certain theme their favorite get that, then the rest get their second choice, so on and so forth.”

“Ideally, no one will have to eat their fifth choice theme,” Tyche clarified. “Or even their third.”

Maverick hummed briefly. “So, say everyone picks the same thing for their number one. How do you decide who gets it?”

Tyche and I glanced at each other before I shrugged. “Honestly, the three who have the most restrictive dietary needs, are closest to us, and get along the best. If everyone picks the same thing for their first choice, it’s going to be something plain and probably vegetarian because that’s the majority of Derek’s diet and he has the most restrictive one. So it would be Derek, Grey, and probably Zach who got that one.  Everyone else would then get their second, and so on.”

“But,” Tyche emphasized, “letting everyone pick the meals they would prefer makes it the most fair and easiest on us, because then we know what to cook each week.  And there would still be meals for just the five of us, right?” She glanced at me, questioning.

“At least every sixth meal, but I would prefer after every three,” I admitted.  “That gives us once a Terran month.”

“What about big meals?” Maverick pressed. “For everyone?”

I tapped my chin for a moment while Tyche furrowed her brow. “Quarterly?” I asked, just as she suggested “Birthdays?”

Ugh. Both made sense. “Well, our birthdays are three months apart, give or take a few years, so we could still do quarterly. I just figured the Terran equinoxes and solstices, because they align with pretty big Terran holidays in most cultures and religions.”

“If you went with that, it would mean we could have the option of quiet birthdays,” she pointed out.

“That’s what I was kind of thinking,” I admitted. “I mean, what if we don’t feel like peopling on our own days?  We could still do that, in addition to the other four, but it wouldn’t feel mandatory.”

“I like it. That’s the solution.”

I grinned widely, happy with the compromise. Conor, however, waved his hand where everyone could see it. “For those of us who don’t have a mysterious psychic connection that even Noah says doesn’t exist, what exactly are your themes going to be?”

“Spicy, simple, protein, vegetarian, and soup,” Tyche and I answered in unison.  While it wasn’t intentional, we managed to stifle our surprise and laughter to make it look like we had done it on purpose.

Antoine looked thoughtful before nodding. “That does, actually, make the most sense.  Those are such severe distinctions, excluding the soup, that there should be no difficulty with anyone having a definitive preference.”

I thought about that briefly. “Yeah, I know ‘soup’ feels like a stuck on category.  But I genuinely know people who hate it, and also some who will eat any soup or stew you put in front of them.  It’s about the food touching, the flavors combining, and so on.”

Maverick was the one to back me up on that bit of information. “Derek will probably rank soup as either first or second, especially if you go by the strict culinary definition.  For someone who doesn’t like mushy food, he practically loses his mind if you give him a bisque.  It’s crazy.”

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[socksual-innuendos]

So I was tagged by @yesjejunus for this and I’m doing a joint interview with Emi and Cam because why not. Art is also by yesjejunus

What is your name?

E: Who’s askin? C: Camila, and that's my sister Emilia.

How old are you?

E: Old enough to be your mother. Who’s askin?? C: 48, but I don’t really feel it. 

What do you look like?

E: Oh, good, I have jokes for this. ‘Why not just check my mug shot’ or 'Who is this interview for, the blind?’ oh! How about ‘use your damn eyes’?

C: Oh, ugh...well I use to have black hair and my skin wasn’t so...the way that it is, haha. Can we please move to the next question?

Where are you from? Where do you live now?

C: Mexico! I don’t remember much of it, actually. I mean I do but not enough of one place. We moved around a lot and most of it just looked like the wastes here. I don’t remember being told when we had made it into America, I don’t think it really clicked until we were half way through Arizona. We still moved around once we made it into the States and up until a few months ago we didn’t have a home. But we sort of do now! Right Em?

E: Yeah, we’ll see.

What was your childhood like?

E: Just like everyone else’s in some ways. Good at times, shitty at times, getting into way too much trouble at times. Heh, you know, the usual kid stuff and more.

C: Even when papa was around we still stayed with host families. Emi and Abuelita always seemed to be out doing something, mostly work I think, not that I could ever join them. When I was real little I would get sick so much. Papa wouldn’t let me out unsupervised, but he did trust Emi to take me places. Once he was gone things got a lot more strict. I think the host families didn’t want to chance me getting hurt or more sick. Abuelita agreed with them, but Emi would sneak me out and we’d play. 

What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?

E: I’m friendly with plenty, whether or not they’re friendly with me is their problem. I guess the Chairmen are fine with me, BAH! I know the Omertas have it out for me, and if those damn pretentious White Chode Society fucks didn’t make a steak as good as they do they’d be a hole in the ground. Who else is there? No one that matters I guess-- Wait, those Boomers might be batshit but they know how to have a party! 

C: Oh! I’d like to think I’m friends with the Chairmen, but they’re really just my employers. Swank is nice, a bit of a flirt but he’s like that with everyone. Tommy is sweet too! He can be tough during practice but I can’t fault him for that. Although Emi doesn’t really like them I love the White Glove Society! They really make you feel like royalty-- And their spa is amazing. There’s nowhere like it in the world I swear. I just really enjoy their casino....Um, other than that I don’t really know any other factions. The Kings are funny, but Emi doesn’t really want me in Freeside without her or Cass or Arcade. She also says I am absolutely not to go near Gomorrah. I’ll admit I’m curious but it doesn’t really seem like a place you’d want to wear open toed shoes, you know?

Tell me about your best friend.

E: Only got Camila and Raul, really. Arcade’s good, a bit too idealistic for his age but whatever keeps you goin. Cass is pretty independent, but it’s part of why I like her. 

C: I have so many now! There’s Veronica, she’s probably the closest I’m to, oh and Sarah. I love my sister dearly but she was never into girlish things. But I have those two now! And they love doing all that stuff. Swank gives me a hard time when he comes around The Aces, but it’s all in good fun. Arcade is teaching me how to do computers, and it’s really helping with the Vault hotel. He’s a bit prickly but he still wants to teach me. I really do love them! I know she’s pretty defensive about our living space but I’m glad Emilia includes them in the 38, this place gets too big and lonely without people. 

Do you have a family? Tell me about them!

E: Cam’s all I need. And Raul’s here now. The others are nice to have around but...Family’s special. 

C: There use to be more of us...I never knew mom but Emi’s told me of her. Xiomara was my abuelita’s name, and my papa was around only when I was little. Then there was-- well, it’s not my place to say. Oh, but I have Raul now too. And Veronica, and Arcade, n Cass, Boone....they count. To me they do. 

What about a partner or partners?

E: Nope. Don’t need one. Not in that sense anyway. I don’t mind having regular lovers, but I don’t get attached like that. Friends suit me just fine. 

C: Not for me no. I mean I haven’t really thought of anyone like that...I haven’t really had the chance to. I mean I’ve thought about it before but nothing serious and definitely not at anyone in particular. I think it would be nice...but I’m just not sure. 

Who are your enemies, and why?

E: Enemies? Now why would anyone want to be enemies with me, I am nothing short of a delight. Although, I will say the Garrets’ opinions of me vary with how hefty my tab is. 

C: I really hope I don’t have enemies. I just got friends! One thing at a time please.

Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them?

E: Brotherhood of Kiss My Ass! Don’t get me wrong, they have cool shit and I love their archives but as long as New Vegas is what it is and as long as they do how they do, I hate them. 

C: Veronica’s told me a lot about them. Aside from the obvious, um, flaws, they sound interesting. I know Emi loves history stuff...This seems really complicated...

What about The Enclave?

E: Never heard of ‘em.

C: The who now?

How do you feel about Super Mutants?

C: I haven’t had the chance to properly meet any. Emi says some are like us and that others are just mindless and violent. We had heard about Jacobstown, that’s part of the reason we’re up here actually. Apparently its a home for the mutated. It sounded like a good idea at first-- it certainly was a smart one but...I like Vegas.

E: Tough sonsofbitches. They have no right being as fast as they are. Clumsy in close combat though. 

What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in?

E: Well, it wasn’t the craziest but I did get in a scuff with a mark’s security guard on top of a building. We ended up rolling off, and when I tried grappling my leg had tangled in my climbing cable-- That’s what fucked up my knee-- I ended up hitting the side of the building, having the wind knocked out of me, and then alerted the rest of the security team of an intruder when I broke a window to get back inside. Trying to get out of there with a dislocated knee was probably one of the best and worst adrenaline rushes I’ve had. 

C: Once Rosa and I had a really big miscommunication. I think that was the first time we ever got legitimately mad at each other. She ran off too cool down but I got worried and ah-- Um, things turned out fine, thankfully. Yeah.

Have you ever fought a Deathclaw?

E: Several, actually. Wait-- Ha! Actually, ask Arcade about this, I’m sure he’d love to tell you the story. 

C: Heavens no! I haven’t even seen one outside of pictures. They look terrifying, and Emilia says they’re very territorial and very aggressive. Hopefully I never have to. Although, Emi has said if I’ve ever wanted to see one we could go to the Thorn but animal fights? That seems needlessly cruel.

Do you like fighting?

E: Hell yeah! 

C: I don’t have the energy for conflict. I’d much rather talk it out, like adults. [Camila glares at Emilia]

What’s your weapon of choice?

E: Depends on the job. I love my sniper rifle, but sometimes a trick shot doesn’t have the right flair to it. It’s really about reading the situation and seeing whats available. Sure, you can blast someone’s brains out 2,000 meters away but where’s the fun in distance if no one knows how far it really is. Now, making a big deal out of a target, there’s the fun. You have to personalize each kill, let the mark and the world how premeditated it was. No, it didn’t have to be that complicated, but it was and someone put the effort in. That’s the sort of thing that let’s people know you’re better than them. 

C: I suppose a mic. I’m not really trained in anything, and I don’t really have a preference towards a weapon? Emi really should teach me but last time I brought it up...I’ll ask Raul.

How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?)

E: It’s all skill baby. I give a prayer and Lord willing I succeed. That and a quick wit is all I need. (S5, P9, E6, C7, I6, A10, L0)

C: I mostly relied on Emilia to survive. Things have been complicated in the past, but she did what she needed to do. I try to be as polite and accommodating as I can though, at the very least people leave you alone if you’re not causing trouble. I got a job at the Vault 21 hotel! It doesn’t get as busy as the other places on the Strip, but it’s still something!  (S2, P6, E3, C10, I6, A3, L9)

Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them?

C: I work at a Vault! Sort of. It’s a hotel now and it’s been mostly destroyed....Sarah’s a bit afraid to be open about it, given how ‘gracious’ Mr. House was, but from what she said it was much more homey when she was little. She’s also told me about Vault life. I guess growing up underground really makes the concept easier huh? I hate being cooped up, but a roof always over her suits her just fine. ‘Though, I guess if the Vaults are as big as she says they were there would be plenty to do inside but...still...

E: I’ve been in a lot. It’s...humbling. All of them have their own unique story and connections to the old world. Reading about some of these people, their lives, their struggles? It’s like looking into other worlds. The dangers out in the wastes are one thing, its nature of man’s sin or the world’s design, but in the Vaults? It can be paradise or tailored evil. When man plays God, everyone suffers. But I suppose they were use to that kind of living. It is life, no? Just like out here. But even then, most of the time Vaults were safe. For those who first stepped out, they left that and saw nothing but, well, this. I can't imagine not having been able to grow up out here. It's shaped me, made me strong, and I can survive because of it. I don't lament my life being hard, like I said it's made me who I am, but I can't help but put myself in their shoes. Having to learn all this after a life in a Vault? That is a cruelty on its own.

How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you?

C: Well, you can see how it’s effected me. I’m just like any other ghoul I guess. Oh...I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for when my skin really starts to come off. Oh-- Ah! One good thing I suppose! I no longer get sick. I mean, I still get the fatigue and pain but I don’t get colds like I use to. That alone lets me do more than I could when I was a kid. Bright sides, right?

E: I don’t have an extra arm yet, so I don’t think its effected me much. I try to keep radaway on me though, it always has it’s uses. 

What’s your favorite wasteland critter?

C: Oh I love bloatflies! They’d kind of ugly, but also sort of cute? Just like me!

E: I’ll admit I have a certain fondness for our nightstalker Sawyer. There’s intelligence behind those eyes...well, some semblance of it anyway. Still, she’s here for a reason. Although...they’re not very common up here-- actually I don’t think I’ve seen any up here, but frogs. I really really love frogs. 

What’s your least favorite wasteland critter?

C: RADROACHES. I don’t see too many creatures thankfully but these manage to get everywhere and I hate it!

E: Centaurs are some unholy creation of man and should be purged from this life and the next. They and feral ghouls...I say a prayer for them before I pull the trigger. Whomever they were before they didn’t deserve that.

How do you feel about robots?

E: They’re fine for the most part. Just bits and bobs that can sometimes have a personality, although I’ve seen some being used to cheat death. Those ones are abominations. 

C: Yesman! Oh I love him. Ah, I’ve met other robots before too but I never got to know them well. Vegas doesn’t seem to have much aside from securitrons, though.  

How many caps do you have on you right now?

C: A lot more than what we--

E: That is absolutely none of their business!

Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla?

E: Sarsaparilla, easily. 

C: Emi just says that because nuka give her hives!

Do you do chems?

C: Emi made me swear never to touch Med-X. She told me it’s stronger than the stuff we use but nowhere near worth the addiction. I’ve seen some of what she means, so I don’t plan on breaking that promise. Colitas are just fine for me. 

E: Some of ‘em yeah. Mostly for work though. Heh, I even make my own brand of kick in the ass. Yeah...Flake’ll get you through just about anything. The high’s crazy but the crash is insane. I mostly prefer the natural stuff. Peyote comes in handy when I need a good bit of life insight.

Do you ever think about the Pre-War world?

E: A lot actually. It’s quite interesting, they lived a lot differently than us but at the same time not. It’s funny to see how routine human nature is. 

C: Sometimes. Emi still brings back old world books that she finds and I read them when I feel like it. The one’s with photographs are nice. A snapshot in time, as Emi says. She certainly finds them more interesting than I do. 

What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently?

C: I was very insistent one night, and I wish I hadn’t been. Things would have been different if I had just stayed in bed.  

E: Ha! You are asking an assassin what their biggest regret it. There is nothing, I assure you. 

What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?

C: I got a job! I have a home, I have friends. I’m...normal. Ha!

E: Ah hell, give me a minute to think of the nastiest bastard I’ve ever ‘in’directly put into power...

What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world?

E: I’m getting old, I don’t need a future. And I’m just one person, the world will go on when I’m dead. Cam though, she’s got what? Centuries? That’s a long fuckin time to think about. Raul’s tried to tell me what it’s like but it just feels-- It just doesn’t click. No way in hell I’m making it that long. I just have to figure some way of making this place as secure as possible for Camila.

C: I just want to be independent! I love Emi dearly but she’s a bit much at times. Especially now...and I’m scared I won’t be able to do a lot on my own once she’s gone. Vegas is good for me. I have friends here and there’s jobs that I can manage. Even if Emi wants to move again, I’m staying. I have to. I have a future here, I can see it. 

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 66

I am happy to report that this chapter has been beta’d, by @satan-parisienne.  They didn’t tell me about any content I should tag, but if I missed something, please let me know.

Happy Thanksgiving Week to all my U.S. readers! Because of the holiday, I’ll have family in town, so there will not be an update next week on the 3rd.  Regular updates should resume on Dec. 10th, so keep your eyes peeled.

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was how tired I was. “How does that work,” I groaned as rubbed my throbbing head. “I was asleep for hours.  Why am I exhausted?”

“You were lucid when you were supposed to be resting,” Grey answered as they came over to check my vitals and unhook the equipment from my little trip.

Tyche gave a grudging nod as she held a straw to my mouth.  I drank gratefully, and grimaced. Whatever I was drinking tasted like electrolyte drink and medication.  “Did you catch everything?”

Grey, my sister, and Antoine glanced at each other. Before they could say anything, a buzzing voice cut in. “There are gaps in the recording on your end, which were not unexpected.  The implants are not designed to broadcast outside of your auditory processing center, and I can only perceive vague intentions.”

On my opposite side, I heard the sound of chairs clattering across the floor and my berth sank as two rather heavy people used it to push themselves to their feet.  A string of curses in Japanese filled the air just before a thick, Irish accent boomed out. “She just let you drug her for ten hours so she could question a talking germ. While she is being constantly having her blood filtered to replace her hemoglobin so the same thing you want her to have a chat with doesn’t kill her.  She is sick, she is dehydrated, she is exhausted.  Your questions need to wait. She needs to sleep first.”

I held up a hand on that side without so much as glancing over, trusting that Conor would lean down so I could reach his face.  When I felt a beard press against my palm, I stroked his cheek with my thumb.  “Baby, they’re right.  It’s fresh right now.  People only tend to remember information for forty-eight hours without repetition.  So, it can’t wait, unfortunately.”  I finally turned my head and looked up.

Conor had not only pressed his cheek to my hand, he craned his head down so I could see his face easily. Tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill over. “Sophie.  I know I’ve been an ass, but this is the second time you have been close to dying in less than so many years.  And there is nothing I can do to protect you on this one…”

I tugged him down so I could hug him. “You’re sick, too.  We all are.  But answering questions isn’t going to threaten my life. I promise I will sleep after this.” I leaned as far as I could around him so I could see the scowling face of Maverick behind him. “You hear that?  Sleep. Lots of sleep. After I fill in the gaps, I’ll sleep.”

Maverick turned one baleful, dark eye toward me. He considered me solemnly before nodding “I’ll accept that deal.” He stepped forward, coming to stand next to Conor. “Sophia, we just want to make sure you take care of yourself.”

I nodded. “I know. But sometimes, it comes down to taking care of myself, or letting myself suffer just a bit so that I can take care of everyone else.” Smiling ruefully, I reached for Maverick’s hand. “But that is a huge part of me. It isn’t going to stop. You both need to know that. If you want to talk about it, we can do it after I fill in these gaps and get some sleep.” Once they nodded in confirmation, I turned back to the medical team plus Tyche. “Let’s do this. What do I need to fill in? Point me at your gaps.”

Noah waved with one vomu. “Most importantly, where did Else come from?”

My stomach sank. “Right to the tough stuff.” I swallowed thickly and resisted the urge to look at anyone except Noah. “They said that we, humans, accidentally made them. Here. On the Ark.”

Every voice in the room rose, all at once. I rolled my eyes and covered my ears, noticing that Tyche had done the same. Sure enough, a high-pitched whine filled the room. Judging by the sight of Grey and Antoine hitting their knees and the vibrations coming from the other side of my berth, Noah had employed their own special brand of crowd control. Once the whine stopped, I lowered my hands and Noah gestured that I should continue.

Clearing my throat, I obliged. “Else is… childlike, almost. They don’t mean to hurt anyone. They know us. They… like….us. Like, a lot. They were so, so sorry about what happened to Nixe.”

“You said we made them,” Grey exhaled, trying to get everything back on track.

“By accident. Yes.”

“Did they know how it happened?”

Now I knew why Else had gotten so short with me. “I only know how I was conceived because I was told by someone who was there, Grey. Why do we expect Else to know any differently?”

They nodded, somewhat curtly, to indicate their concession to that point. “If we can determine out how it was created, we can extrapolate how to combat it.”

“That makes sen – wait. What do you mean, ‘combat’ it?”

“Else is a bacterium, specifically one that has infected the humans on the ship and can kill us if left unchecked. By definition, it is a plague.”

Tyche’s eyes widened, then narrowed as she whirled around to face the head researcher. “You mean antibiotics.  As in, killing it.”

“Of course.” The tone was confused, as though this was the obvious solution.  Being that they were the closest we had to a head of medicine, I suppose the solution did seem obvious.  Except one critical piece of information…

Quickly, I flicked open my datapad. “Sophia Reid to Xiomara Kalloe. Xio, are you able to come down to my medbay?  I need you, right now.”

“Ten minutes out. Do you need me to send Miys ahead of me?”

“Noah is already here, and there is no immediate threat.” Not to me, anyway. “I’ll see you in ten minutes.”  Dismissing the screen, I looked back up at my friend and fellow Councilor already in the room. “Grey, it’s not that simple. Else is sentient.  I’m pretty sure.  Which means Galactic Law may apply, hence why I asked Xiomara to come.”

They blinked slowly. “The trials.”

“Yep,” I nodded.  “She’s been digging into Galactic Law ever since then, to make sure we don’t get caught flat-footed again. If Else is sentient, we have to treat them as people under the law.”

“Couldn’t Noah have told you that?” Maverick chimed in, bewildered.

I shook my head. “Unfortunately not.  ‘A similar species, regardless of what point of evolution, cannot make the decision if another species may be sentient.’ It’s to prevent sympathy from overriding logic.”

“Else is a bacterium,” Grey argued.

“With a hive mind.” I gave a pointed look at Noah. “Which means, if they are sentient, they could evolve into something like the Hujylsogox, given time.”

Noah made a gesture of confirmation, sweeping one vomu across its body.  That seemed to settle the matter of Xiomara’s involvement, and we all patiently waited for her to arrive.

Finally, she breezed in the door as though her skin wasn’t ashen from illness. Defiantly of any perceived lack of health, she crossed her arms and braced her feet as she looked at us.  “So, what’s the emergency? I could be lounging around with all I can drink Gatorade right now.”

Before Grey or I could say anything, Antione held up a hand to stave us off.  “Sophia just woke up from her conversation with Else, and we need to know if you are versed in the Galactic Law regarding determination of sentience in a new species.”

Comically, Xiomara slumped slightly, hands dropping and mouth gaping.  Almost immediately recovering, she cleared her throat. “I mean, yeah. I’ve gotten that far.  It’s fascinating stuff, actually.  But why?”

“They can talk.”

“Only with words previously used by you, and they do not retain the information.”

“Because several generations have passed for them!  Humans don’t retain language for more than one generation if there is no way to use it or pass it on.  You know this!” This argument came from my sister.  Tyche was getting as upset as I was, apparently.

“And they re-learn it very quickly,” I tried pointing out.

“So do antique chat bots.”

“Except that Else demonstrates that they know what the words and concepts mean, and can retain internal logic of the conversation.”

“Which makes sense if it is causing you to hallucinate the entire conversation.”

I sent a pleading look at Xiomara, but she only tilted her head from side to side. “Speech isn’t necessarily a criterion, but even if it was, there is no clear determination that Else is capable of intelligent speech.  That seems to depend solely on native communication.”

Damn it. I snapped my fingers rapidly, trying to think of a new piece of information, berating myself for getting into this position. Myself. “Self. Else demonstrates a sense of self.  One independent of its concept of humans. It… they pled for their lives. They apologized for hurting us, and understood what that meant.  Not only that, they corrected me several times on where they came from. Arguing demonstrates the ability to use logic, right?”

“Not necessarily,” Xiomara pointed out. “Conor argues with me all the time.”

“Hey!”

I glared at her.  Now was not the time for jokes.

Apologetic, she held up her hands. “On the other side, though, sense of self as a separate identity from others, along with understanding of the concept of death, are criteria for sentience.”

“What are the rest?” I asked, hope flooding my voice.

“Do they have any subjective experiences?” she asked.

“I’m honestly not even sure what that means,” I admitted, close to tears.

“Opinions,” Antione supplied helpfully.  “Experiences through their frame of existence and perception that they have opinions about unrelated to survival.”

I bit my lip as I thought. “The showed regret?”

“They also know we can kill them,” Grey argued, not giving up without a fight.

“They showed empathy?”

“So does your cat.”

Xiomara shook her head at Grey’s petulance. “Jury is actually still out on cats, so that’s not as definitive as you would like it to be.  But empathy doesn’t count – even among humans, several psychological disorders prevent empathy, but that doesn’t mean those people aren’t sentient.”

“They asked me to stop reciting scientific papers?” I asked in a Hail Mary attempt.

“They had what they needed,” was the suggestion from our self-designated Devil’s Advocate.

“Yes and no,” I said softly, realizing something. “They found it annoying and boring…  They also scolded me for using profanity.” Little things I had initially ignored rushed to the forefront of my memory.  “They knew Conor only gave the catnip to Tyche because he thought she would like it.  They knew Tyche loves me… they knew what that meant. And they actually told me how sick I was, the first time.  I didn’t realize it, but they told me my face and hands were injured.”

“That’s what the nightmare was that made you scream?” Tyche demanded.

Nodding vigorously, I clarified. “When I first came to the medical bay, there was moderate cellular damage in my hands, remember?  We didn’t think anything of it, because it was so simple to fix.  But in the nightmare, my hands were a horror show. I never would have even had them scanned if it wasn’t for that nightmare.  And the bruises around my eyes, from the anemia… they mentioned something was wrong with my face.”

“They told you out of self-preservation,” Grey supplied as the subsequent argument, but the staunch faith was wavering at this point.

“They didn’t know we were dying.  Not then.” I took a deep breath.  “And they make jokes, when I talk to them.  When I asked if they were deliberate or accidental, they didn’t just tell me they didn’t know.  They made a joke about my parentage.  Which means they took offense.”

Xiomara took a deep breath and ran a hand over her hair. “Boredom, annoyance… being offended.  Those are definitely opinions, and not related at all to survival.”  I held my breath and prayed to any entity that was listening.

“By definition of Galactic Law, Else is sentient.  Antibiotics are out.”

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