Besca led them out the back, and onto the crowded streets. She hadn’t been to Hovvi since the year after Dahlia got picked up, and then it was only a brief, subtle affair for the girl to see her father. 

She’d been born in a place like this; her home had been on the Gideon Sea, though she only spent a few years there before moving in with her father. From then on, it’d been Westwel military bases, and eventually the Aerie. When she let herself be optimistic, she liked to imagine retiring somewhere like this, spending her days fishing and drinking that hoity-toity sparkling water ‘cause by then she’d have given up booze, again, and for real. 

When she took her head out of the clouds though, she knew hardly anyone that got involved with Saviors retired. 

The day was turning to evening.

Besca felt a rumble that she couldn’t hear over the crowd. She took a detour, ushering Quinn along with her, and came up to a food cart selling something that smelled as good as it looked unhealthy. Fried sweets of just about every kind. She ordered the cook’s choice and charged it on the company card, which she would continue to do until they extended lunch breaks. 

She handed a paper basket with fried cookies dusted in sugar to Quinn, along with a cup of water. Licking her lips, she plucked one up and popped it into her mouth. 

“[color=gray]God, they don’t serve stuff like this up there. I mean, they shouldn’t, we’d all keel over from heart disease, but damned if they couldn’t splurge on some decent desserts now and then. Go on give’em a shot.[/color]”

Stepping onto the boardwalk, Besca led them behind the rows of people standing before the screens. Lucis’s show was over, or on intermission, or something. They were showing battles now, ones that mainly showed off the prowess of [i]Grauritter,[/i] [i]Jubilee,[/i] and [i]Magnifique,[/i] like she’d suggested. Some intern had tried to slip in footage from the Dotsockett singularity, where they’d lost Safie’s predecessor, because it was the first time he’d seen [i]Dragon[/i] in action and it was special to him. She’d nearly thrown him in the airlock. 

The further they went, the thinner the crowd got. The marina wasn’t far, but she couldn’t spot anyone yet. 

“[color=gray]You like the water? To be honest, I’m total crap at fishing—too antsy. But I like being out there, just sitting. The rocking, the little waves hitting the side of the boat, the open air. It’s nice.[/color]”