You want to ask, you really do. There's no realistic way to have survived a wound like she has unless she was literally cut open inside the med-bay and fell into a preprepared medical pod, and even then it would have been bad odds. For heaven's sake, you can't even see the ends of the scar! Could it be a burn wound, instead?

You want to ask. You really do. But when she turns to you and asks you if you have any questions, and her green eyes glint at you like she already knows, your mouth goes dry, and you—well, you chicken out. You duck your head, shaking it shyly. You just know you're blushing, too. Dammit.

She grins, red lipstick garish in the ship's harsh lighting. Garish and perfect.

"Well, if you have any questions, just ask around. Any of the girls would be glad to help you out."

Her hips sway as she leaves. Your eyes linger on the small of her back for a few long, hot seconds before you tear your eyes away and go to collapse on your new bunk where, ideally, no one will hear it if you scream into your pillow out of sheer frustration.


Echo Turbine:

"It was a loading clamp that swung too wide when she was docking her suit," the mechanic tells you when you ask.

Your mouth drops open, eyes going round with appalled horror. "That's—that must have been—"

"Really terrible, yeah." She drops her elbows across the top of the mobile suit's lifted forearm, wrench dangling from one hand and cupping her chin in the other, cheerfully heedless of the smear of grease it leaves on her cheek. "I wasn't there, but I heard there just blood everywhere. I mean, can you even imagine? And in zero g? They were probably wiping it off the ceiling. For days."

You feel a little queasy just thinking about it, and curl in on yourself where you sit on the walkway beside the bay where Echo's working. Against your better judgement, your eyes scan across the hangar—one bay is currently empty, someone's Hyakuren out on a patrol, and two enormous clamps lurk half-recessed in the ceiling and the back wall. They're painted bright yellow, but you can see the notched surface on their heads even here. They're bigger than a grown man; if they missed their mark when a person was coming out of the cockpit—

You shudder and look away, and startle with when Echo pats your knee. She gives you a sympathetic smile. "Hey, don't worry about it. Boss Lady's tough. She's still alive, isn't she?"

You nod, slowly, trying to put the thought out of your mind, and give Echo a wan smile. "That's really amazing."

She nods emphatically. "I'd have shot that mechanic out an airlock," she declares. "No question. I heard Naze just fired her." She sighs gustily, shaking her head. "That Darling—! Way more merciful than whoever it was deserved."

You giggle, and though it sounds a bit forced to your ear, she flashes you a smile. "Anyway. Back to work! Gimme that bolt driver there, would you?"

You nod obediently, and turn back to the tool chest.


Azee Gurumin:

"It came from a duel."

You jump at the table and whip around, meeting the cool stare of one of the pilots—Azee, you think? Was she watching you watch Amida leave? You didn't even say anything.

"The scar," the woman clarifies, and takes another long sip from her drink carton. "It was from a duel."

"A—duel?" That is not at all what Echo told you—but then again, didn't Echo say she wasn't there?

Azee nods. "There's a colony in the Saturn Sphere that's run entirely by women. The Turbines once made a delivery there, and the leader liked Naze so much she wanted to keep him, so she challenged Amida for him."

You gape at her, and in response she cracks the first smile you think you've ever seen on her stern face. "I wish I'd seen it," she confides, her tone light in a measured, intentional sort of way, and your wound muscles begin to ease at the care she's showing. "They say the leader was a better knife fighter, so Amida baited her into letting her guard down—even when the woman was carving into her like that."

"That's…" you say, faintly, head full of the image of Amida on her back, some strange woman's dagger gouging—you shake it off, violently, and swallow.

"Ah," Azee says, short, a sound of realization. "Sorry. I guess that's too graphic."

"No, no," you begin, but she shakes her head.

"You've gone all pale," she states. "And we just got you out. I shouldn't get carried away."

"It's fine, really," you insist, and stand from the table, walking over to join her. "I—I've been wondering about since I first saw her. Thank you for telling me."

You hesitate, feeling a bit silly now that you're just standing in front of her with your food tray, but she smiles again, softly, and makes room for you to sit across from her.

"You're welcome. She really is something amazing. Naze and her both."

She says it with just a hint of color in her cheeks, and something tells you that blush isn't just for Naze. Maybe it's that you can feel the echo of warmth on your own face as well. You nod, abashed.

"She really is," you say, and Azee smiles at you before turning back to her food.


Lafter Franklin:

"And then, crash, and—" Lafter lets out a long screeching sound, and makes a wide tearing motion with her hands, "—the whole cockpit started fracturing. One of the conducting cables got ripped clean out of the wall! That's how she got the scar, you know—from the burn."

You blink, turning around from where you're working at the console in the corner. Chloe, one of the bridge girls, whistles, her eyes wide and impressed. "And then what happened?"

Lafter, catching your movement, grins over at you and winks. "She finished what she started, obviously. She'd already stabbed a hole in the mobile suit, so she backed off and shot her last grenade right into it. Ka-BOOM!" She gesticulates again, miming an explosion. "She told me the rest of the pirates didn't stick around long after that."

"I bet not!" Chloe laughs in delight.

"She even made it all the way back to the bay before she passed out. Cool, right?"

"So cool!" Chloe claps her hands together. "Big Sis is so cool!"

"They say Darling didn't leave her side all night." Lafter puts a hand to her cheek, closing her eyes, smiling and sighing sweetly. "So romantic!"

The two of them go back to cooing, and you turn and go back to your work, head ducked in embarrassment.

What kind of rumor mill are the Turbines running here, anyway?


Everyone, it seems, has a different story. They seem to treat it like a favorite legend, or perhaps a bit like daytime entertainment. You spend more time than you care to think about pondering if there's a grain of truth to any of it, or all of it, or none of it. Old instincts from your education, perhaps, to look for truth.

Naze is the only one who doesn't weigh in on it, so he probably knows the real story. Something from their history, from before the Turbines, you suppose.

Amida just grins when she hears people talking about it, and laughs at the more outlandish stories, and tells people to think what they want. It inflates her reputation, which means it's probably intentional.

In the end, you decide, perhaps it's all right as a mystery. And maybe, to mark your place as one of them, you'll make up your own story. Watching her green eyes glitter with cunning, the sway of her hips and the poise of her shoulders, you resolve to make it one that's worthy of her.