The Great Hall in this city was much fancier than the one back home, Sorrel thought as he walked out amidst a small throng of other Deyluji. They lingered and spoke to each other but Sorrel hurriedly picked his way through the crowd and walked down the street. From blocks away the Hall’s clock tower was still visible despite being amidst a crowded city. The Hall back at home was smaller, darker, less friendly than the one here. Sorrel wasn’t sure if he found it distasteful or not. Back home it felt more serious, more communal. In this city, the Deyluji were mostly all for the Vote, and so were more carefree, not giving a shit about voting to give their ancient enemies the planet Earth. They were all obviously raised on Earth in mixed communities.

Sorrel shook his head slowly, trying to hold onto the feeling he remembered of his community members shoulder to shoulder next to him as they meditated on community and strength. Together they gathered their will to remain themselves, to remember who they were, despite how hard it was. Living without Karradas tech was a point of pride back in the Compound, if one was able to ignore that the very planetoid the separatist sect lived on had been provided by them. But without the technology, they were alone, and if systems failed, if someone was hurt, if their leaders were abusive, they had no one to look to but themselves. Strength and weakness. Their community had been tighter, more closed in together. Everyone knew everyone. Here, Sorrel didn’t even hang out with any Deyluji at all, unless his cousin Kana visited. He felt little connection to his people here, disconnected from the Shore as they were.

He had felt disconnected at home, too. Disassociated, even. No matter where he was, he was nowhere. But still, he had himself, and the Shore, echoing in his heart as he sat shoulder to shoulder, communal breathing washing him away from all the unfamiliar kin around him.

Usually after leaving a sitting, he felt calm and clean. This time he felt an irritated unease. He walked quickly through a heavy drizzle of rain coming down, hands in his pockets. He was going to go home, take a shower, eat something, and maybe stare at the wall until he fell asleep.

He began crossing the foot bridge over the river that cut the city in half. Midway through, eyes blurry from rain, he ran into someone, who stumbled backwards. Sorrel wiped the water from his vision and blinked. Suatre was standing there in the rain looking kind of wild.

“Suatre. What are you doing out here?” Sorrel looked into the other man’s wide eyes and gestured at the sky. “It’s raining,” he said pointlessly. Suatre laughed.

“No shit,” he said, water dripping from the hair hanging in his face. He shrugged his bony shoulders. He was soaked.

Sorrel started walking again, thinking Suatre would follow him home so they could dry off. But Suatre stood where he was, looking out at the water of the river blankly. A cold stone dropped into Sorrel’s stomach. He’d seen that look on someone else’s face before.

He walked back quickly and roughly grabbed Suatre’s hand. Suatre looked at their hands, then to Sorrel’s face even as Sorrel began to turn and practically drag Suatre off the bridge. An icy anger growing inside him, he walked quickly back to his apartment, silent and gripping Suatre’s hand the whole way. He unlocked his door and pulled Suatre inside.

“What the fuck were you doing out there,” he demanded. Suatre blinked at him, shivering.

“I was looking for you, man,” he said in a small voice.

Sorrel instantly regretted his tone and took a breath to calm down. His heart was pounding. He went to sit on his firm grey couch and gestured to the seat across from him. Suatre slowly sat.

Sorrel watched three whole water droplets fall from Suatre’s hair before he realized it. He jumped up again and grabbed a towel, as well as half a pack of those stupid old-fashioned ashy smokey cigarettes Suatre had left at his place. He tossed them both to Suatre, who caught the towel but missed the pack.

“Whoops,” Suatre said vacantly.

Sorrel retrieved it as well as a lighter and gently handed them both to Suatre. He was going insane waiting for Suatre to explain as the skinny man lit a cigarette. He was going to just have to ask, wasn’t he?

Instead, he decided to try to connect. He focused on Suatre’s face as the silence stretched. He reached out with his mind and tried to feel the air between them becoming a solid thing, tried to hear Suatre’s desires. If they matched with his own, he would be able to feel it. But Sorrel didn’t know what exactly he himself wanted, except for Suatre to be warm and dry and to stop looking so haunted. He sighed again and broke the tenuous connection he’d made. Suatre just began drying his hair between taking drags off the cigarette. Sorrel realized he was still soaked too. He absently clutched his own towel. He’d have to ask.

“Suatre,” he said, trying to keep his tone neutral. Suatre looked like a spooked animal. “Are you all right?”

Suatre laughed again. He shook his head.

“What happened?” Come on, talk.

“I saw the invasion. On tv. There was a special about it.”

Sorrel didn’t know what tv was, but he understood from context. A program on a screen. Because of the vote coming up. He waited.

“Charlie and Jun showed me. They said I should know what I’m voting for.”

“That’s true,” Sorrel said carefully.

“So like. It’s just all sinking in.”

Suatre stared at his cigarette, the ash at the end threatening to fall. Sorrel moved the ashtray on the coffee table towards Suatre, though he could have reached it himself. Suatre automatically tapped the ash into the tray.

“They saved us.”

Sorrel took a breath. Now wasn’t the time to argue politics and alien history with this fragile human.

Suatre glanced up. His dazed blue eyes met Sorrel’s.

“I know you hate them. I want to know why.”

“I’ve told you.”

“Yeah and it was bullshit!” Suatre suddenly snapped. “You said they destroyed your planet because y’all tortured their children!”

Sorrel said nothing.

“And maybe it was wrong to destroy the planet, like, I can’t even fucking fathom it. And maybe they’re just, like, gonna destroy Earth too, who fucking knows? Are they gonna harvest us for our organs or something? Or is that what your people would do?”

Sorrel opened his mouth but Suatre wasn’t finished.

“Tell me what’s so wrong with saving this planet and wanting to live on it? Tell me why I shouldn’t vote for them?” Suatre took a last drag off the cigarette and stabbed it out in the ashtray. “Tell me why they saved us here when back where I’m from, everyone is probably gonna burn alive from global warming or starve to death or-“ he choked and coughed. “Tell me why I’m here in the lap of fucking luxury while everyone I ever knew is going to suffer and die.” Out of steam, he put his head in his hands. “Tell me how I’m supposed to live like this,” he said, voice muffled and broken.

Stunned at this outburst, Sorrel stayed silent, watching Suatre’s shoulders shake.

The rain outside began to fall harder.