nonscriptum | hadriel { ic inbox }

Hey, how do you feel about doing some translation of Null menu screens?

Wow, you don't even wanna ask me out for dinner first?

[ Nate has to wonder how much of this question is tied to what Poe was posting about not long ago - seeing as he hadn't thought himself capable of helping, he didn't offer.

But then there's this. ]

...I'm kidding. Sure, I can do that.

I mean, you're welcome to bring Elena over to our place for fruit salad and MREs, but I wouldn't want her to get the wrong idea.

As tempting as that sounds, she might pass on that dinner party.

[ MREs are starting to get (metaphorically) stale. There's only so much reconstituted steak a man can consume and not want to throw up a little bit. He'd never survive in an apocalypse scenario. ]

Are these the screens you found on your other expedition? I saw your post, just didn't think the programming aspect was in my wheelhouse.

Yeah, mine either. But at least you can help translate. All I can do is hand things off to people and wait.

[ There's something else, something he should tell Nate, if he doesn't know already, but Poe still hesitates. ]

Did you hear me talking to Hux?

[ Waiting, for someone like Poe, probably sucks. He's impulsive, a man of action, and Nate can relate deeply. Flying by the seat of his pants has served him well before, but they don't have the luxury of unnecessary risks here.

More importantly, though- ]

I did.

[ Network snooping is normally beneath him, but the conversation was right there. Hux had done a good job of worming his way under Poe's skin, which means this is personal. ]

Can't say I'm really jazzed about the idea of giving him that material.

Neither am I.

[ For so many reasons. ]

He can't get to the relay station without help, at least, and if--

[ Quieter, angrier: ] If there's one thing I can guarantee it's that he's good at killing things.

[ Nate is willing to be a babysitter for a psychopath if necessary, he has the expertise and the drive, the general know-how. The ability to translate what the Null have left behind and ensure that no one is navigating their way into decimating other people in the process, just because they can.

Poe knows Nate.

Not well, perhaps, not to an intimately personal extent beyond what Nate was willing to share on a cold night out in the tundra, in the dark recesses of an ancient bunker, but there's a lot he still isn't privy to. Nate's jaw tightens, even if the man over the line cannot see it. ]

So am I.

[ It's reassuring to know both John and Nate are aware of Hux and are willing to keep tabs, and go well beyond that if necessary. Hux maybe won't stay dead, here, but they can make sure he dies until he wishes it would stick. ]

I know you've been here longer, but I called dibs on killing him first.

Just saying.

[ It occurs to him that Poe really has no idea of anything he used to do, professionally or illegally. Nate isn't even sure if he's shared details on his current job at Jameson Marine, but Poe has never dug far into it in conversation, what with Nate asking after various galactic kerfuffles and attempted empires.

Saying "I've literally lost track of the number of people I've killed" isn't really a great opener to a friendly chat. ]

Hey, I'm not gonna fight you for the honor.

[ If the opportunity presented itself, it might be different, but he won't try to snipe Poe's vendetta out from under him. ]

All I'm saying is that I'm not just a pretty face.

[ Poe sobers. He can put things together. Nate's calm at the excavation sight, the clear line he draws between civilians and combatants.

He might not have any idea of the scale of Nate's work and the body count behind it, but he can at least recognize a fellow fighter when he sees one. ]

I believe you. [ A pause. ] You should meet John Sheppard. Newcomer, from the same place I was before this. I think you two would get along.

[ Nate doesn't have the training. He isn't military. The day he first picked up a gun he was fifteen, it was necessity, a man in a dark suit with dark sunglasses cornered him on a rooftop and told him to shut his eyes so it wouldn't hurt. He learned how to shoot a few days later. Everything after that was just an occupational hazard. ]

Met 'im. He's from my world - or a version of my world, anyway.

[ Nate never thought he'd be so happy to meet someone who has suffered the slings and arrows of existing in the same universe as a big box store. ]

Pretty sure we haven't mastered intergalactic travel where I come from. [ He nods to one side, grudging. ] Though if we did, I guess I probably wouldn't have the clearance to know about it.

We haven't either. Interplanetary, sure, but intergalactic? Not a chance. We still haven't even explored our whole galaxy. And John's people have ships that could blast past ours in terms of speed. Don't think they have lightspeed for their smaller ones at least. We've got that one on them.

[ Ships ships ships ships. Stop him before he keeps going. ]

[ Yeah, he could have foreseen that bringing up ships would capture Poe's attention span the same way any object over a hundred years old captures Nate's.

He raises his eyebrows, amused, gently steering. ]

So what makes you think we'd get along?

I don't know, exactly. [ He hums thoughtfully.

Then: ]

He's a smartass.

Oh.

[ Pleasant, soft, almost lilting in delivery. The dry exclamation of a man who has just stumbled upon a five dollar bill in the street and cannot believe his luck. ]

So what you're saying is, I'm a smartass.

[ Birds of a feather. ]

[ Oh no that voice?? Is very rude. Poe's stomach turns over and he does his damnedest to ignore it. ]

You're one of those things anyway.

[ "Rude" says the guy haphazardly calling people smartasses. Pot, meet kettle. ]

I'll pretend it's the first part.

[ Wow it's not haphazard. It's very thoughtful and carefully considered.

His voice is still rude. ]

You can pretend, but we both know the truth.

hadriel { ic inbox }

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