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Double Trouble strolls up a minute later and leans in to address the control panel:
"Etheria - the Valley of the Lost," they say, and then guide Jake into a deep desert canyon that's had a settlement built into it over time. Walkways are dug into the rock or built as bridges across the space. Canvas awnings give shelter from the sun. The ground level is a labyrinth of shanty buildings and narrow alleyways.
"Not everyone who washes up here is really built for the climate," Trouble murmurs. "It can get very hot when the sun is high. Regardless, I'm sure you're getting an impression as to why sleeping in the dirt has lost its appeal?"
"Show me around?"
"I won't lie to you, darling, it all starts to look the same after a while."
They're walking slowly, glancing around.
"People come and go. That stall," they gesture, "sold food for a while, then clothes, then whatever they could scavenge from a crashed Horde transport. It's all rather changeable that way."
He does glance at the stall they reference, then decides to press ahead with something else. Something he's been keeping from them that might explain the questions. "I got your file. Ain't read it."
They glance at him, eyebrows raising slightly.
"Why not?"
"Because I know what it's like when someone knows shit about you that you didn't tell 'em," he says softly. It might not be exactly the same because Jake didn't know those things existed, but he hated the feeling of walking around, knowing that people had information about him. Things that he might not necessarily want them to know.
Trouble hums.
"Well, I appreciate the gesture, darling. Consider me an open book."
"This is the kinda place where people do whatever they can, huh? Just to survive."
"Very much. Of course I'd love to tell you about the hard-won sense of camaraderie, the lifelong bonds forged in desert heat, but...well, I certainly never met two people here who wouldn't sell each other out for two coins and a hot meal."
"Nah, you wouldn't. This place ain't that sort." Certainly tells him a lot more about Trouble, though. "Do what you can to survive, right? Make promises and keep them just long enough to get by?"
"Precisely. Or, in my case, make promises in character as someone they'll never see again."
Trouble laughs.
"Please, warden. Where else do you want to take me while we're on that guilt trip?"
"Don't know. I can go pretty far with it. Got some pretty sad fucking stories I can make up."
He waves a hand in their direction. "It's not what I meant to do. Just tryin' to figure this shit out."
"Oh, darling, there's nothing to figure out. I've prioritized my own survival since I can remember and the Admiral does not approve. The situation is direly uncompelling."
"You're still slightly giving me a lecture," they say mildly. "But I'm not going to apologize for it. It was them or me."
"Mmmm." They manage to pack an awful lot of doubt into one humming noise. "So what are you going to do, warden?"
"Precisely that, if you have to do anything," they suppose. "But if you're going to work out what that is by ruling out what you won't do....well, it's a strategy."
"So just stick with me a while and I'll do my best, huh?"
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