Contact (Side Story)
Carolina was walking through the corridors of the Armonia headquarters, absentmindedly glancing through high-storied windows as she did so.
Even from the extremely tall vantage point she currently had while traversing the building, Carolina could make out the shapes and figures of people milling about with packages held tightly underarms.
She sighed, recognizing all the telltale signs of “Mail Day” while trying to actively remove herself from it. “Mail Day” was the time every month when an assortment of interplanetary packages made their way to Chorus from all over the galaxy.
The half-Veroni absolutely despised the day for very personal reasons, despite knowing how well it boosted morale on the planet in general. Subconsciously, her hand went to the lighter in her pocket before she turned her green-eyed gaze away from the window that she had been contemplatively staring out of.
Absentmindedly, she knew she shouldn’t really complain. After all, there were several people Carolina knew personally on the planet who were always overjoyed at the arrival of packages. It made sense that they would be happy to see tokens from loved ones they didn’t get to see often, or that they were receiving item orders they had placed months in advance.
…Though the former Freelancer also knew there were others, such as herself, who very much dreaded whenever “Mail Day” came around.
She had a feeling that the person she was about to see was one of them, given Vanessa Kimball’s often noted absence from the public eye whenever it was “Mail Day.” It was an easy enough guess, especially when she entered Kimball’s darkened office and heard the tail end of a familiar message playing.
“…Be sure you damn well know who you’re entrusting Chorus to. I certainly did.”
Kimball glanced up at Carolina as the recording cut off, her finger tapping the “stop” touch button on the datapad at the forefront of her desk. Silently, the Chorus leader waved the other woman in. With another swipe of her hand, light suddenly bloomed into her office.
Next to the datapad that had been replaying Donald Doyle’s final message was a stack of other thin tablets. Carolina had long since realized that particular pile was meant for Kimball’s completed work.
So, it appeared that the Elvari had been working even harder than usual given the time of day. It was rather impressive that the dark-skinned woman had finished all of her work already, though the reason for her fixation was apparent in her hooded eyes.
Carolina felt as though she didn’t really have to ask, but she did so anyways to fill the suddenly suffocating silence, “”Mail Day”?”
Kimball smiled wryly as she leaned back in her chair, “How’d you guess?” She joked before a slight sigh escaped her lips, “I’m not the biggest fan of today.”
“I can imagine.” Carolina’s hand went to the familiar weight of the lighter in her pocket once more, lingering there on the cold metallic surface.
“I know it helps the troops though, so I’m not going to complain.” The dark-skinned Elvari continued, her eyes settling on the datapad before her.
Carolina wondered how often Kimball had played it already today. Her thoughts went unbidden to a broken Veroni man, one who never looked at her when she was growing up but whose eyes were staring unfocusedly at a human blonde saying how much she hated goodbyes on a screen.
Memories could be dangerous if one got lost in them. The redhead swallowed down the sudden lump in her throat, hand gripping the lighter tighter until she could practically hear York laughing and telling her to chill out.
Looking back now, Carolina could admit that there were definitely times when she should have heeded his advice. Right now was as good a time as any to start.
“Hey,” she motioned to the doorway with a tilt of her head, “Want to get out of here and get a drink? I’ll buy.”
Kimball seemed surprised at the offer, but she smiled thankfully a second later, “That sounds like an amazing idea. Thank you, Carolina.”
With that, Kimball was up and heading towards the doorway. The Elvari smiled even more when Carolina put a gauntleted hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture before they both left the office behind.
*****
Kaikaina Grif found Volleyball in one of the residential halls’ common areas, a box of some sort sitting on the table next to her.
“Hey, hot stuff,” she greeted the blonde as normally as she usually did since arriving on Chorus, “Whatcha got there?”
“Oh, hi!” Volleyball looked up with a beaming smile on her face, “Just got a package from my parents back on Earth.”
…Right. Kai had overheard some people talking about it being something called “Mail Day” today or whatever. She hadn’t really paid too much attention to the details because, with Grif here on Chorus too, who would bother to send her mail?
Besides, the dark-haired girl was fairly certain that she hadn’t ordered anything in a while. Grif didn’t like her spending his credits on “adult toys” so she was making due with her old shit. For now. Well, until he wasn’t looking and she could swipe his card, at least.
Kai had also chosen not to pay too much attention to “Mail Day” because doing so and seeing everyone so happy over gifts and messages from loved ones reminded her a bit too much of her childhood. She had often waited around for her parents to send them shit when she was younger, before she had wised up to the notion that they were never coming back and didn’t care what happened to her or her older brother.
Maybe something about the younger Grif’s last thought lingered on her tanned features more than she would have liked, because Volleyball glanced up at her thoughtfully before turning her attention back to her folks’ care package once more.
“You know,” Volleyball began quietly, “My mom always sends me way too much peanut brittle in these things.” She eyed Kai hopefully, “You wouldn’t want to share it, would you?”
Kai grinned at the notion, “Fuck yeah, I would!” She exclaimed loudly, sitting right next to the other human girl.
Both females smiled at one another before diving into the tasty treats.
*****
The knock on Doctor Emily Grey’s door caused the Veroni woman to glance up questioningly. Since she had just seen Washington out earlier that day, she hadn’t been expecting more company. For some reason, she rarely received visitors when in the middle of her research. Doyle used to say it had something to do with her “doctor disposition.”
The dark-haired woman found Sarge standing in the doorway rather awkwardly, the larger Arenian holding out a package that may or may not have moved a second ago.
“Dang it. Looks like our mail got switched again.” He informed her, holding out the side of the package that clearly had her name on it.
Doctor Grey glanced over at the package on her desk. It looked surprisingly similar in size and coloring to the one the older man held, but her dark eyes noted the name “Sarge” printed clearly on it. There she went again: barely looking at something and just grabbing it when preoccupied with something else!
“So it did.” She motioned him inside with a distracted wave, cleaning up her work area at the same time.
Sarge came in and set her correct package down before grabbing his own, though he seemed oddly reluctant to leave. “It’s funny how that only seems to happen with our things, ain’t it?” he asked after a moment’s contemplation.
The dark-skinned woman shrugged, joining him at the desk, “I suppose it is because our interests are so similar.” She noted, though she frowned thoughtfully a moment later, “Though…”
“Though?” Sarge prodded her to continue.
Grey felt her Veroni purple-lined cheeks go slightly warm, “Though, with the frequency of how often it happens, I would nearly suspect someone was doing it on purpose. Just so they could have a reason to visit.”
“Huh. You don’t say.” Sarge’s face had gone slightly red with a hue that almost matched his shirt as he rubbed the back of his head, “Not that I am saying you’re on to something there but, out of curiosity, how would you…feel about that if it were true? Would you be angry?”
The younger woman smiled, shaking her head, “Not at all!” Grey admitted, “I may have been debating about doing just that myself. If we’re talking in hypotheticals.”
Sarge smiled himself, “Well, maybe it’s a darn good thing this accident keeps on happening then.”
“Maybe. It certainly leads to some charming conversations.” Doctor Grey agreed, her face heating up once more.
It wasn’t long afterwards that the two were once again having a rather lengthy discussion on the positive applications of robotic arms.
*****
David Washington was spending the rest of the day on a break, although the time off from work wasn’t particularly his choice. Rather, it was the result of a helpful suggestion from both Kimball and Grey after he had near collapsed from overworking. “Suggestion” of course meaning “order.”
The Strassian was walking back to the residential area of Armonia when he ran into Lavernius Tucker holding a large box.
Oh, right. Today was “Mail Day,” wasn’t it? The former Freelancer hardly paid it any attention since he had fallen out of contact with his family some time ago after joining the project. Judging by the large grin suffusing the half-Strassian’s features, Tucker must have gotten something that he had been wanting quite a bit.
Washington couldn’t help but blurt out the first thing that came to mind when he saw Tucker clutching the package, “What did you get?” He asked the younger man casually in way of greeting, “Porn?”
It was Tucker, after all.
Tucker made a face and gave him the finger, “Rude!” The dark-skinned man informed the blond testily, rolling his eyes, “Besides, everyone knows that’s what the networks are for.”
Washington couldn’t help but roll his gray eyes in response himself, “My apologies.”
Tucker huffed, “If you must know what’s in the box, dude, it’s nothing super-exciting or special.” He stated, looking down at the partially open container, “Just some coloring books that I ordered for Junior and Caboose.”
Washington blinked in surprise at the mention of the second name in particular, “Wow, Tucker. I must say I’m impressed.” He noted, “Who knew you were trying to build up team cohesion so early on in your stay here?”
Tucker stuck his tongue out, “Oh, it’s nothing fucking like that. I’m just hoping to distract the big guy from the stove for a little while.”
Ah, yes. They all remembered the last time that Caboose had tried making grilled cheese sandwiches. It was a total mystery how the Arenian hadn’t starved to death back when he had been left to fend for himself along with his mech Freckles on the lunar colony before the Chorus group had found him.
It made sense that Tucker, who lived with Junior across the hall from Caboose, was particularly keen on avoiding any more kitchen mishaps.
“Anyways, I already gave Caboose his share, so I was going to spend some father-son quality time with my kid.” Tucker glanced over at Washington thoughtfully, “You on break or something?”
“Something like that.” The Strassian was perplexed by Tucker’s sudden interest in what he was up to, “Why?”
The dark-skinned man shrugged, “Well, I was just wondering if maybe you’d want to join us possibly?” His voice rose slightly in pitch at the end of the suggestion, cheeks warming up, “I’m pretty certain one of the books I got is all about cats. Somehow. Fucking mystery how that happened.”
Washington felt heat rise to his own blue-tinged freckled face at the implication behind Tucker’s words, “Now which team cohesion are you trying to build up?” He tried joking to offset how eagerly he may have nodded his head in response to the question.
Tucker didn’t respond, yet both men walked in the same direction back to his apartment: red-faced and shoulders practically touching all the way.
*****
Four Seven Niner was busy overseeing the restocking of her transport. She wasn’t entirely solo, however. Andersmith, one of the lieutenants, had volunteered to help her out with it.
She had to admit, the dark-haired man was a fairly efficient worker. The cargo was well-organized and properly stored every time she checked. Without her even having to yell to get it done multiple times! In fact, they were almost finished with everything. In record fucking time no less!
“So,” the pilot decided to try for some small talk even though she sucked at it, “I take it you’re not chomping at the bit just because it’s “Mail Day”?”
The dark-haired woman hadn’t been born yesterday, so she recognized when someone was trying to distract themselves under the guise of extra work.
Andersmith straightened at the question, a pained expression momentarily crossing over his Arenian features, “I have no one to send me mail anymore.” He quietly admitted a few seconds later.
Damn. She hadn’t been suspecting that heavy of a reveal. Frowning, the female Arenian let out a sigh, “Sorry.” She muttered under her breath, “Just forget I said anything, all right?”
Andersmith nodded quietly, opening his mouth as if to respond further…
“Sis!” Caboose’s voice called out from the open hangar, “And Smith’s here too! Oh, good!”
Andersmith stood up even straighter then and saluted, smiling as though the conversation from before hadn’t even occurred, “Hello, sir! What can I help you with?”
Four Seven Niner relaxed around the young man who had become a constant around her ship ever since he had decided on “adopting” her as one of his older sisters, “Hey, kiddo.” She greeted Caboose casually, “What’s up?”
Caboose grinned as he held up an assortment of what appeared to be coloring books, “Look what Tucker gave me!”
Four Seven Niner smiled at how happy the blond seemed to be with the gift, “That should keep you busy for a while.”
“Very nice, sir!” Andersmith chimed in.
“He got you one too.” Caboose informed his adopted sister eagerly, holding out said book for her to inspect.
The tan-skinned woman raised a dark eyebrow in amusement at being included, “Did he now?”
The pilot lifted up the Coloring for Adults book from Caboose, glancing from the cover over to Caboose’s hopeful expression. She sighed, “What the hell. We’re almost done here anyways.” She remarked before turning to Andersmith, “Want to join us?”
“It would be my pleasure, ma’am.” Andersmith saluted her.
Nice enough guy, but they’d have to work on that.
…If Four Seven Niner had realized then how this would become the start of an odd sort-of tradition for the unusual and new family, she would have been even more amused.
*****
“I think we should open it.” Antoine Bitters remarked as he and Matthews stared down at a package that was clearly marked for one “Dexter Grif.”
“We shouldn’t! It was…it was given to you by mistake, Bitters!” Matthews noted, horrified at the prospect.
“But, now it’s mine. Finders-keepers and all that shit.” The Arenian informed the bespectacled rookie matter-of-factly.
“I—I’m not sure you can call that “finding” it.” The yellow-trimmed lieutenant was trying desperately to think of a counter-argument, “Besides! Wha—what if it’s a gift for Kaikaina?”
“For Kaikaina?” Bitters frowned at the notion, even more curious now.
The younger auburn-haired male nodded, “It might be! I bet Captain Grif is an amazing older brother.”
Bitters snorted, “I bet you don’t have any siblings, huh?”
Matthews pulled back as if the orange-trimmed lieutenant had physically struck him, “Pro—probably not?” He stated anxiously, wilting a bit under Bitters’ questioning glare, “My family…doesn’t really want much to do with me.” He admitted sadly.
“Huh.” Bitters mulled over that piece of information in his brain, “We have something in common then. My family’s a bunch of assholes too.” When Matthews looked over at him in surprise, he was smirking, “Wonder what else we have in common.” Bitters mused out loud.
“I—!“ The Elvari began sputtering, trying to come up with something to say in response as his face turned completely red.
In that moment, Bitters ripped the tape off of the package despite Matthews’ protest. The apathetic lieutenant was a little disappointed, but not at all surprised, to find nothing but snack cakes in the box.
“Well, that figures.” Bitters let out a sigh.
Just then, a trail of dust kicked up into the air as one Dexter Grif raced over to the two lieutenants as though it were a matter of life and death.
“What are you dumbasses doing with my essential food delivery?” The chubby human wheezed out angrily.
Bitters raised a multi-colored eyebrow at that, “Essential?” He echoed back incredulously.
Without another word, Grif grabbed the package from him and held it tightly to his chest as though he were cradling an infant. He turned to leave when he paused and looked over at the two younger men, wordlessly handing them both a snack cake before happily continuing on his merry way.
Bitters and Matthews both glanced at one another.
Matthews smiled, “Isn’t Captain Grif so generous?” he asked, voice full of awe.
The Arenian groaned, clasping Matthews’ shoulder and pulling the other lieutenant along with him as he walked, “He gave us the only two strawberry ones in the box because he didn’t want to fucking touch a fruit. Come on, let’s go and find somewhere to eat these in peace.”
*****
Charles Palomo was gushing over the care package that he had just received from his family. Even though they lived on Chorus too, it wasn’t like he had the chance to really go and visit them all the time since he was always holed up in Armonia. So, he naturally always enjoyed whenever “Mail Day” came around.
Katie Jensen glanced up from the mechanic magazine that she was reading at the fourth exclamation of “Yay!” that had come from the half-Veroni in a ten minute timespan. She smiled, “That’s great, Palomo. I’m happy for you!”
The tan-skinned man grinned, glancing over at his oblivious crush only to notice something odd, “Didn’t your family send you anything this time, Jensen?”
The Strassian girl shook her head, wincing slightly, “No, but they never do.” She sighed when she noticed the questioning look forming in Palomo’s brown eyes, “There was some…argument when I decided to come work here at Chorus.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.” Now Palomo was feeling like a complete and utter tool for even bringing the subject up given how depressed her blue-tinged freckled face had become.
Jensen shrugged her shoulders, her downcast expression clearly saying that “it was what it was.”
Palomo frowned and stared down at the package that he had been perusing, until a truly awesome idea hit him full-force in the face.
“Hey,” he called out to the tan girl with braided hair in order to get her attention once more, “My family always sends me comics. Every time.”
This piqued Jensen’s curiosity, and she glanced up, “Comics?”
The dark-haired rookie nodded, “Uh-huh.” He blushed slightly before adding, “They’re pretty good distractions.”
Jensen caught on to what he was getting at a second later, smiling herself, “I’m game then!”
*****
Frank “Doc” DuFresne was surprised to find Franklin Delano Donut redecorating his room for the fifth time that week (he just hadn’t gotten it perfect yet!) instead of cheerily getting his mail like everyone else had done.
“No mail today?” Doc asked after their customary friendly greeting to one another, feeling something of a connection with the fellow Elvari.
Donut shook his head, “Nah, all of my magazines come digitally so…” The dirty blond trailed off, frowning over a pink vase that he had just moved from its original position on a rhinestone decorated nightstand.
“Ah, so not expecting anything from your family this time?”
Donut stiffened at the question before shaking his head and picking up the vase once more, “All of my family that matters is here.” He finally admitted quietly, nodding in Doc’s direction, “You guys are my family.”
Doc nodded his head in sympathetic understanding then, “So your family back home…?”
“Would probably rather I didn’t exist.” Donut’s voice was so unfamiliar and robotic when he spoke that Doc had to resist the urge to hug him then and there.
The purple-wearing man coughed awkwardly, feeling guilty that he had pressed the subject so much. It seemed that the brown-haired medic couldn’t help himself when it came to wanting to learn more about Donut, even though the two Elvari had only met recently. Doc’s childhood friend Tucker was constantly teasing the pacifist over his obvious crush on Pink’s pilot.
“Well, I’m grateful to be included in such an important group to you then.” Doc finally said at length before adding with a gesture to the redecorating going on around him, “Do you want help?”
“Do I?” Donut was back to smiling as if the original conversation had never even happened, “That would be terrific! I can’t seem to fill all these cracks and holes no matter how hard I come at them.” He clapped Doc on the back in a friendly manner, “Thanks so much, Doc! I’ll even buy dinner later as payback.”
Doc smiled himself, thinking that a happy expression suited Donut the best.
*****
Leonard Church was seated in one of the residential common areas, watching people coming and going with packages.
“Oh, joy.” A familiar voice suddenly spoke up from next to him, “It’s “Mail Day” again.”
After her commentary, Tex sat down next to Church without another word, brown eyes glancing over the people disinterestedly as well. She seemed as awkward over the whole thing as he did.
“Yeah.” Church muttered quietly, “It’s fucking weird, right? We don’t even fucking get anything.”
After all, given their more unique origins, who would even send them so much as a message? Beyond maybe Carolina, that is. But, that wasn’t really her style. Or theirs. They weren’t a touchy feely bunch, after all. More like a “beat your ass up” bunch.
No one really wants to send those types of people heartfelt messages.
Tex regarded the dark-haired man carefully before a teasing smirk began to play across her lips, “Do you want me to write a letter just for you, Church?”
The Veroni’s face heated up and he spluttered, “D—don’t be fucking ridiculous.”
The blonde laughed, the sound both infuriating and melodious to him all at once. “Come on.” She stood up from the table they were sitting at, hand outstretched for him, “Let’s say we get out of here until this shit blows over.”
Church couldn’t help but smile at the prospect, his hand holding onto hers even though they’d both probably be fighting with each other later.
*****
“My thanks for always being such a good mechanic for The Tank, Lopez.” Sheila noted as the two worked side-by-side on recalibrating some of the mech’s weapon systems.
“Para una hermosa dama como tú, no hay problema.” {“For a beautiful lady like you, it’s no problem.”} Lopez practically whispered, though Sheila heard the comment and smiled somewhat as her face turned slightly red, “Además, tú eres una de las únicas personas aquí que me entiende.” {“Besides, you’re one of the only people here who understands me.”}
“I suppose it would get rather lonely with no one able to talk to you.” Sheila stated sympathetically, eyes glancing towards the brown-armored robot.
“Aunque con este grupo, a veces eso es algo bueno.” {“Though with this group, sometimes that’s a good thing.”}
The female Veroni smiled at his joke, getting up and dusting off her knees.
Lopez regarded her curiously just then, “¿Puedo preguntarte por qué no estás muy emocionado por este "Día del Correo"?” {“Can I ask why you aren’t too excited over this “Mail Day”?”} he inquired.
Sheila nodded, “My older sister is the only person who would send me something,” she frowned, looking somewhat pained before continuing, “But she disappeared years ago. I came here hoping to find her.”
Lopez stood up himself, touching Sheila’s shoulder gently, “Perdón por traer eso. Pero la encontraremos.” {“Sorry for bringing that up. But we’ll find her.”}
“I hope so.” Sheila smiled sadly before taking her hand and resting it on top of Lopez’s since it was still on her shoulder, “Thank you, Lopez. You are very kind.”
“...Puedo estar sobrecalentando.” {“…I may be overheating.”}
*****
Dexter Grif was feeling pretty good after having retrieved his snack cakes from Bitters and Matthews. He was planning on going to sneak into Orange’s cockpit to eat his bounty there in peaceful bliss before falling into a welcome food coma, the perfect lazy plan for a maverick like himself.
Well, that had been his wonderfully glorious plan as he entered the Chorus mech docking bay, at least until he noticed Richard “Dick” Simmons sitting on Maroon’s shoulder. The nerd’s head was bent low as if he had been crying, a discarded package sitting next to him.
It had to be Simmons of all people. Grif took in the scene and sighed, realizing that his own plan would probably have to wait.
Fucking conscience.
With some effort, the chubby human managed to climb over the safety railing of the catwalk in order to join the red-haired Strassian on his mech.
“Hey, nerd.” He greeted casually enough, “What’s up? Did one of your action figures get bent in delivery?”
Simmons wiped at his blue-tinged freckled face hastily, blinking in surprise at his despair’s sudden interruption.
It took a few moments for Grif’s words to sink in, but when they finally did the pale-skinned man rolled his green eyes, “Haha, very funny, jackass.” He muttered, trying to push the box away from Grif as he did so.
Grif could only catch a glimpse of what was inside the package with all of its tissue paper, but he was rather caught off-guard by what appeared to be…yellow-ish baby booties? He shrugged slightly to himself though, assuming that it was probably a Strassian culture thing he wouldn’t understand at the moment.
Simmons stared at the offending package sadly as Grif, careful not to slip on Maroon’s metal plating, sat down next to him. “After all this time, I should have realized what it was before I even opened it.” He muttered, more to himself than to the orange-wearing human sitting next to him.
When Grif, not commenting due to his unfamiliarity with the situation, didn’t respond Simmons glanced over at him and elaborated a bit.
“My father’s an asshole.” He stated sadly, but in a matter-of-fact tone of voice that gave no room for argument.
Ah, so that explained who the booties came from then even though Grif was still at a loss as to why they were so upsetting to the redhead in the first place. But, still, Simmons seemed so despondent over the package.
Since it probably wasn’t Grif’s place to ask for further elaboration yet, he knew of one selfless gesture he could make that might actually help.
Sighing dramatically, he motioned down to his own precious cargo, “Want to have some snack cakes with me?” He offered, “I’ve got a whole box. Minus a couple fucking disgusting strawberry ones.”
Simmons looked over at Grif, clearly surprised by the totally magnanimous gesture he had just witnessed. The kiss-ass was actually at a loss for words. Grif kind of liked throwing the nerd off like that.
“Come on, dude. I don’t offer to share this stuff every day.” Grif told Simmons succinctly when the redhead still hadn’t responded.
At length, Simmons gave him a watery, grateful smile and nodded.
The two ended up staying together on top of Maroon for several hours in amicable silence, hands nearly touching and a container of half-eaten snack cakes sitting next to them.
When all was said and done, Simmons seemed to be have calmed down quite a bit. In fact, the Strassian looked to be just as thankful for the company as Grif surprisingly felt.
Despite being in the docking bay, at that moment thoughts of mechs and “Mail Day” were far from both of their minds.