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It was Harmony’s singing that finally lulled him to sleep. It was odd that his new body needed sleep at all - as far as he knew, mature voidmoths didn't. Harmony had pointed out that it was unlikely he was mature, despite his many many years of undeath.
You seem different, it hummed after they had gained a suitable distance from Avros station and Cheris had retired to the showers. Were you damaged in the conflict?
Jedao thought for a moment. "Repaired," he replied, aloud. It was true, in a sense, though perhaps less true than he would have liked. The feel of skin-against-skin disgusted him, and the bifocal vision of the living was a handicap more than anything else. But he was whole, in mind and body. He should be grateful.
You don't seem repaired. Have you spoken to your servitor?
He thought of Hemiola. It had spent the better part of two years convincing him to eat and to bathe, convincing him to leave his euthanasia application untouched.
"I haven't seen it since I left the Citadel of Eyes."
Should we retrieve it on our way?
"I don't think that's the best idea. It would put us in unnecessary danger, to get so close to Mikadez. If he understands the severity of the situation he'll have his forces directed elsewhere, but I don't want to take the chance quite yet."
You don't sound convinced. And anyway, do you really trust your care to that human? They're notoriously unreliable. That one doesn't even know what to feed you!
Cheris was nearly done with her shower. He could tell by her humming. He could tell by the tremor in their connection. By the tension that coiled across her shoulders and down her spine, down his spine and towards his ankles -
{Stop it,} she thought in his direction, with just enough authority to jostle the obedient part of him. It had been a long time since he'd had a handler, though he'd hardly listened to them then, but a lot had changed in 400 years. He wasn't shuos infantry anymore, and the formative tenant of gun safety was to be prepared to obliterate whatever you point it at. He was certainly capable of obliterating anything that -
{Stop that}, Cheris repeated sternly, and he did.
Yes, she would wield him well.
"I think I'll be alright for now," he told Harmony. It gave an annoyed trill. Jedao could feel its bulkhead tremble beneath his feet. "If you think I'm doing poorly in a month or so, we'll see if we can send it a message. Deal?"
We have a deal, little cousin. For now.
Jedao waited for it to continue, but it didn't. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.
His hair was clean, if a bit tidyer than he usually kept it. Kujen's handiwork, no doubt; he had lamented Jedao's natural dishevelment in life and had always groomed his anchor before tethering them.
His skin was soft despite the scarring, and not at all greasy. He wasn't sweaty, though he probably should be. He had no reason to shower, but it had been so long since he'd touched water last.
"How much longer are you gonna be?" He asked Cheris, feigning a respect for her privacy by asking rather than just feeling.
“As long as I want,” she replied, her irritation bleeding through in her tone. The shower turned off just a moment later, and a moment after that she stepped into their shared space, unclothed, where she finished ringing out her hair before tossing Jedao the towel. “Be quick; I don’t know how much hot water we’ll get.”
As much as I deign to give you, Harmony said. Jedao did not share.
The feel of water on his skin was as wonderful as he remembered. The light in the washroom was irritating, so he turned it off. He turned it back on when corners of the shower stall started to close in on him, and closed his eyes instead.
He re-entered their shared space to find a clean, shapeless grey mechanic’s uniform set out for him, the fingers already cut from the gloves. He stepped into the coveralls but hesitated over the gloves. His other self had felt some kind of way about them. His current self didn’t want to wear them at all. It would be indecent of him, though, to walk around half-naked. He put the gloves on. “Well,” he said to the room. “I feel better!” When nobody replied he continued: “Where are we headed next? Someplace interesting or dangerous, I bet!”
Oh, probably, Harmony hummed at the same time Cheris flashed him images of voidmoths and deep space and the nav computer she sat in front of. He moved to join her in the command cockpit.
He took his seat beside her, carefully avoiding the yolk and the console’s thousand different buttons and knobs.
“I had hoped I was rid of you forever,” Cheris grumbled, flicking some switches and setting a course using an algorithm he couldn’t understand. He didn’t tell her that Harmony could handle navigation on its own. “But here we are. Again. In command of a voidmoth. At the dawn of an invasion. I want no part of this, and yet.”
Jedao smiled. His lips stretched oddly, like his new moth-derived body wasn’t meant to. “I would tell you I’m grateful to be alive, but it would be a lie. I am grateful to be out of the cradle this time, though, I will say. You’re not bad company, either, Cheris, though I admit it’s strange to both be here physically. I could reach out and touch you if I wanted to.”
Cheris grimaced. “If you try to touch me I’ll break every bone in you hand.”
Jedao’s stiff smile cracked and faltered. “Yes,” he said. “I suppose that’s fair.”