Joey "Blue" DiMarco let out a deep breath as the door to Dr. Zophram's office slid shut behind him, cutting off the sterile air and tension-filled atmosphere of the room. For a moment, he paused in the hallway, letting the cool, recycled air of the military hospital wash over him. The space was alive with the buzz of staff and soldiers moving through their routines—medics rushed between rooms, the soft murmur of conversation mixed with the hum of medical equipment, and the occasional clatter of a soldier's gear echoed down the halls.
Nova's voice slipped into his mind, calm as always. "That was intense."
Joey snorted, rubbing a hand over his face. "You have no idea."
"Actually," she countered smoothly, "I might. We share a brain, remember?"
He stopped mid-step, letting out a dry chuckle as he leaned against the wall. His eyes followed a group of medics wheeling a patient past, their faces set in a determined focus. "Fair point," he muttered. "Still, you don't have to sit there and listen to that man question your entire existence."
"No," Nova replied with a touch of sympathy, "but I do feel everything you feel. So, technically, we both had to sit through that."
Joey sighed, the tension still hanging heavy on his shoulders. "Zeddicus is something else. It's like he's got a PhD in 'finding the exact thing that pisses you off the most.'"
"Advanced degree in emotional warfare," Nova mused.
Joey chuckled again, the sound more bitter this time as he straightened and resumed walking. "Let's get some coffee. I'm done being psychoanalyzed for the day."
"Coffee's a good call. Much better than throwing Zophram out a window, which I calculated as the next most likely scenario," Nova quipped.
Joey smirked, shaking his head. "You think I'd waste the effort on that guy? My ego bruised, not my back."
They made their way down the hallway, passing soldiers in various stages of recovery, their conversations blending with the steady hum of medical devices. The mess hall was nearby, and the promise of strong, bitter coffee pulled Joey forward, his pace quickening. He caught sight of a few familiar faces—veterans of past campaigns, old comrades who gave him a nod as they passed. Others avoided eye contact, uncomfortable with what Joey had become since the mission.
"Speaking of discomfort," Nova interrupted, her voice cutting through his thoughts, "I've been digging into how Servo managed to access your HUD camera during the last simulation."
Joey's jaw tightened at the memory. Servo's breach still made his skin crawl. "Yeah, and?"
"I haven't cracked it yet," Nova admitted, the frustration in her voice matching his own. "He used something... different. A method we haven't seen before. I'm working on it."
Joey frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Damn it. That guy's always two steps ahead."
Nova's voice softened, reassuring. "I'll figure it out. He might be clever, but I'm relentless."
"That's why I keep you around," Joey muttered, though his tone lightened a bit. "Well, that and your sparkling personality."
"Please," Nova shot back, "you're only here for my good looks."
Joey chuckled as they approached the mess hall, its doors sliding open to reveal the bustling space inside. Soldiers and staff moved between tables, some grabbing meals, others lost in quiet conversations. The smell of brewing coffee filled the air—dark and rich. Joey's body relaxed slightly, the familiar scent grounding him.
He headed straight for the coffee dispenser, filling a cup with the inky black liquid. "There we go," he murmured, taking a slow sip. "The real medicine."
"You're going to develop a dependency," Nova said, her tone mock-serious. "Soon you'll be held together by caffeine and sarcasm."
Joey smirked, cradling the cup between his hands. "Hey, duct tape and coffee. It's been working for me so far."
Nova remained quiet for a moment before adding, "Speaking of being held together… Are you?"
Joey's smirk faltered, but he caught himself quickly. "Held together? Please. I'm a well-oiled machine, just a few upgrades shy of invincible."
"You deflect with humor every time," Nova replied, a touch of sadness in her voice. "You know that, right?"
Joey shrugged, leaning back against one of the tables as he watched the room. Medics moved between the injured soldiers, checking on IVs and reading charts. Others grabbed trays of food and cups of coffee, looking to catch a moment of peace before their next assignment. He raised his cup to his lips, letting the warmth soothe him for a second before answering.
"Deflecting is part of my charm," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Nova sighed softly in his mind. "You're broken, Joey. You know it. And if you're broken, then I'm broken too."
Joey fell silent, staring into his coffee. The grin that had danced on his face moments ago faded as the weight of her words settled over him. He wasn't sure how to respond to that—he never was. There was no real humor left to hide behind when she was this direct.
"I know," he whispered, the words barely leaving his lips.
The mess hall bustled around him, but Joey was somewhere else, lost in the truth that Nova had voiced. The bond they shared went beyond simple companionship or even combat efficiency. Their minds were connected in ways that few could understand. When he suffered, she did too. When his thoughts spiraled into the dark places he refused to acknowledge, Nova was there, feeling it all just as intensely.
But she didn't push. She never did.
After a long pause, Nova broke the silence, her voice softer. "There's something else. I've made some updates for your next set of simulations."
Joey perked up, grateful for the shift in topic. "Yeah? Hit me with it."
"I've optimized your grid-walking efficiency by 8%. You'll be able to jump farther with less energy drain," Nova began, her tone slipping back into its usual calculated calm. "I've also tightened the neural interface to improve your reaction time by about 0.2 seconds. You'll notice it, especially in high-intensity situations."
"Nice," Joey said, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. "That'll give me the edge."
"And I've tweaked your combat maneuvering algorithms," Nova continued. "Your last run showed a slight delay in how quickly you recovered from dodges, especially during high-speed encounters. I've smoothed that out, so your movements should be more fluid now."
Joey took another sip of coffee, nodding as she listed off the improvements. "What about my accuracy?"
"I knew you'd ask," Nova replied, her voice tinged with amusement. "I noticed a dip in your long-range precision during Simulation 3. I've reworked the targeting parameters, so your marksmanship should be back to where it was."
He smirked. "Always fixing my screw-ups, huh?"
"Not screw-ups," Nova corrected. "Just opportunities for improvement."
"Right," Joey chuckled, finishing off his coffee. "Well, as long as I'm improving, I'll take it."
The mess hall continued to hum around them, the clatter of trays and soft conversations filling the space. Joey set his empty cup down and crossed his arms, glancing at a few soldiers seated at a nearby table. They were laughing, one of them making some wild hand gestures while the others leaned in, hanging on every word. For a moment, Joey found himself envying the ease with which they interacted. The camaraderie. The simplicity.
"Simulation 4 is tomorrow," Nova said, bringing his focus back. "Do you want to go over the mission parameters tonight?"
Joey shook his head, standing up and stretching out his shoulders. "Nah, not tonight. Let's clear our heads first. We can focus on that later."
Nova didn't push. She never did. She let the quiet settle between them, giving Joey the space he needed.
He rolled his neck, feeling some of the tension finally start to drain away. The mess hall, the coffee, the chatter of soldiers going about their lives—it was all grounding, keeping him tethered to something tangible. For now, that was enough.
"You know," Joey said after a moment, his voice lighter, "I think you're right. I'm definitely being held together by coffee at this point. If I ever stop drinking it, my organs might revolt."
"I'll note that in your medical records," Nova replied dryly. "Official cause of death: lack of caffeine. Prognosis: grim."
Joey grinned, pushing away from the table. "Better make sure I'm well stocked, then. I've got too much to do to let a coffee shortage take me out."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Nova said, and for a brief moment, he swore he could feel her smile too.
Joey downed the last sip of his coffee, the warmth lingering in his chest. As much as he tried to lose himself in the quiet hum of the mess hall, his mind was already drifting toward what came next.
"We should head to Solari Delta soon," he said, his voice low but steady. He set the empty cup down with a soft clink, straightening his posture. The thought of seeing Black's parents tugged at something deep inside him—a mix of comfort and bittersweet memories. Visiting them was always a welcome distraction, though it never quite erased the ache.
Nova, always one step ahead, responded with a soft hum in his mind. "Already on it. I've made a reservation for our teleport to the city. I'll notify the Imperator and Overseer that you've completed your session with Zophram."
"Thanks," Joey muttered, though there was an edge of weariness in his voice. The constant reminders of command and duty weighed heavy, even in moments of respite.
As they made their way through the mess hall, weaving past tables filled with soldiers lost in their own conversations, Joey found his mind wandering to something far more whimsical. "You think Black's mom made cookies or pie tonight?" he asked, his lips curving into a soft grin. The thought was almost enough to lift the lingering tension.
Nova's voice warmed in response, as if she, too, enjoyed the lightness. "My money's on pie. She was experimenting with some kind of exotic berry the last time we visited, remember?"
Joey chuckled at the memory. "She's always experimenting. I swear, one of these days, we're going to walk in and find her running a full lab in the kitchen."
"Likely," Nova agreed. "She'd probably have the best-tasting research notes."
As they left the mess hall behind, the hum of the hospital faded, replaced by the low thrum of the ship's systems. Soldiers passed them in the halls, some nodding in acknowledgment, others too focused on their tasks to notice. Joey's stride was steady, but there was a new lightness to it, the thought of spending the evening with Black's parents providing a welcome distraction from the heaviness of Zophram's probing.
"Do you think Black's dad will challenge me to chess again?" Nova asked, her voice laced with just the slightest hint of anticipation.
Joey snorted. "Without a doubt. The man's stubborn. He still thinks he's going to beat you one of these days."
"I appreciate his optimism," Nova replied, her tone playful. "But I have a 99.9% win rate. I think I'll be just fine."
Joey shook his head, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're ruthless, Nova. One day, you're going to crush his spirit."
"I would never," Nova said innocently. "But I do enjoy a challenge. Besides, someone has to keep his competitive streak in check."
Joey could almost picture her smirking in that mischievous, analytical way she did when she was confident in her victory. It was one of those small things that kept him grounded, reminding him that Nova, even with all her precision, had a personality—a spark of life that made her more than just code.
As they approached the teleportation pad, Joey paused, his hand brushing the cold steel of the nearby wall. He could feel the steady pulse of the ship's systems beneath his fingertips, a constant rhythm that matched the beat of his own heart. For a brief moment, he let himself exist in that space—in the quiet before the jump, in the anticipation of seeing familiar faces again.
"I've notified the Imperator and Overseer," Nova confirmed, her voice gentle. "Everything is set for your visit. We'll be at Solari Delta soon."
Joey nodded, his gaze focused on the teleport pad as it powered up. The light began to pulse, casting soft shadows along the walls of the corridor. "Good," he said quietly. "I could use the company."
"And the pie," Nova added, her tone light.
Joey smirked, stepping onto the pad. "Especially the pie."
With a final pulse of light, they vanished, leaving behind the sterile walls of the military hospital as they headed toward the warmth and familiarity of Solari Delta—toward friends, family, and for a while, a brief escape from the storm inside.