January
"Well now, isn't this interesting..." The affini loomed over the dusty farmland, like a great oak, casting her shadow across it's small ranchgrounds. Her arrival was unknown, unwarranted. Jay had just finished assessing the soil when they had frozen in place, terror lurching into every crevice of their mind. How? Was their first thought. Then they remembered. Their ship must have been broadcasting a distress call for weeks, maybe even months now. Stranded on a planet with nothing or noone around, save for this...this farm.
"Are you all on your own here, pet? Lonely living, hmm?" They tensed up once again at the voice of the alien, then relaxed. Tension won't help here. The affini strolled down the hill, daintily, to meet them, looming over them with the ever-present friendliness. To her, they were just a lost little puppy. She had no idea...
"You could call it that, ma'am." They decided to recheck the soil. Fertile land, something has to grow here, when it's warmer. "Acting Captain of the Scarlet, Jay, serial number 119-" They were stopped with a simple shush.
"It's alright, darling. The war is over. No more need for rank and file." *Is that what she thought this was? My rank?* They shuddered at the thought, opting to pull a dead weed from the ground with their hands.
"Just Jay, then. I uh, can't imagine the cold is good for you, ma'am. If you'd like, we can go inside, I'd imagine you have...questions about me, and I, well, I feel the need to accommodate you so as to hopefully butter you up to a proposition." They had planned for something like this, maybe not with an affini specifically, but anyone who came by that wasn't going to get them out of here immediately, or try to kill them.
"Oh, it would be lovely if you did. I can feel the frost building." She obliges them, and the two of them make their way inside. Jay is careful to not step too close, or on, to a vine. The pattern made in the loose snow by her movements is intricate, like a woven basket across a white sea.
The affini can't help but notice something on her entrance, though. Gravesites, at least 4 of them. Curious, and ominous, but she has nothing to fear, not from a small terran, but much to think about. "Friends of yours?" She asks, politely.
*Right, that.* They think to themselves. "I'll tell you more when we're inside." The door slowly opens, the heavy bulkhead to the space-farmhouse clearly in need of some TLC. Representative of it's current tenant? Who knows.
The both of them find their way to a warm electrical hearth, radiating constant low heat. The affini woman calmly positions herself somewhere comfortable on the ramshackle sofa, made of the wool of some local creature, and strong wood. The terran adjusts themselves opposite of her in a more stable chair, stitched with fine leather and embroidered with brass buttons.
The two of them look at each other in silence for a moment, the affini eyeing them up head to toe. *What a rugged little thing.*
Jay looked to be no older than their 20s, and even then, their appearance was haggard. Their glasses were missing a lens, their left hand missing 3 fingers, wrapped up in dark brown bandages. Their clothes, a mix of old-terran aesthetic and new-terran function. A number tattooed onto their neck, 11917-A. The affini seemed to understand a bit better now. This was not a soldier, this was a runaway, but from whom? Their hair was a mess, long, brown, and ragged, and their face, an attempt was made to keep it clean-shaven, once, but now, like the rest of their body, ragged and dirty. She could see their hands trembling, not shivering from the cold, trembling in genuine fear for what comes next.
"So...I am Senna Gol, First Bloom. I apologize for not introducing myself sooner. I was more curious of your lifestyle here than anything else at the moment, but now that we have some time to converse, I...are you alright, dear?" The question was sincere and genuine. Leaning forward on the sofa, she looks into the eyes of the terran, which are already starting to well up with tears.
Jay sniffles, their hands shaking more at the Affini's slow approach. She decides to lean back once more. "N-no, ma'am. I'm not...I'm not fine. I haven't been fine in a long time." Their emotions bubble up with each word, their throat choked with stress.
"I-I'm from, uh, not...a great place. A-acting captain is a self-bestowed t-title. I'm a thief, I'm a...a murderer...a coward. I...I know what you want, ma'am." They compose themselves slightly, letting out a big huff of air. "I do a lot of reading here, on my own. And if things may go the way you wish them to go, with no fuss, I simply have one demand: I want to live here. On this farm. For at least one year, Terran standard time. I know that I am in n-no place to bargain, but, I don't think I'll be able t-t...t-to be what you wish me to be without some time to understand myself better. May you please indulge me?" Despite their ragged appearance, their vocabulary was superb, their wordsmithing that of a learned individual. So smart, despite it all... Senna thought to herself.
"Darling...you have to understand that if we are to leave here, to help you...heal from whatever has happened to you, we shouldn't simply delay..." Jay raises a hand to speak. "I-I know. I know you have all manners of tools at your disposal to help your, um, florets, but please. I know how they change. I know what awaits me, and...and the stress of it all may just kill me before we even get there, so please, just allow me this, and I'll go without fuss."
Sen closes her eyes, and exhales deeply. Then, she nods. "I understand you, Jay. I will visit on the first of every month, for maybe a few days at a time, to check on you, make sure you are well and fighting. If you have any need to contact me, I will leave you with a communications device, should you change your mind, or feel ready to go. Is that alright, sweetheart?" Jay nods, looking at the floor, only to see a slow, planty hand raise itself closer to their face, raising their chin to their eyes. "Is that alright?" She repeats.
"Y-yes ma'am. Thank you ma'am."
