After Horizon

Joker does his determined cripple limp towards my table, carrying his tray.  Tonight’s dinner is mystery stew, one of the better meals that Gardner’s served up in recent memory.  Black pepper and brown gravy will make anything taste good.  It worked for Mom.  Her excuse was that they don’t have cooking classes in cadet school.  But they do.  I took one.

“Hey, Commander.  So I guess you have a new defender of your honor, huh?” Joker says.  He lowers himself carefully into the chair next to mine.  “I’m taking bets on who wins when Garrus catches up with Kaidan.  You, uh, care to place a wager?”   

I shake my head disapprovingly.  “Stop that shit, Joker.  I don’t want you riling up the crew.”

Joker spreads his hands in protest.  “Tell that to the scary scaly guy.  He started it.” 

I put down my spoon and turn towards Joker so he knows I’m serious.  “Turians value loyalty to their unit over almost everything else.  It was a knee-jerk cultural  reaction, and I don’t want any more talk about it.  Call off your stupid bet.”

Joker looks skeptical.  “Sounds like something a CO would say.  You  been reading books?”  He pokes at his stew gloomily.  “Is this stuff meat?”

“Just eat it,” I say. 

Joker tastes a spoonful and seems to decide the stew is edible.  There’s silence for a few minutes as he shovels food into his mouth, but it doesn’t last. 

“I’m just sayin’, a cultural reaction or whatnot doesn’t explain the way he’s been acting lately.” 

“What way is that?”

Joker peers at me sideways.  “You haven’t noticed?  Huh.”  He thinks for a while, then grins.  “Well, I believe I will let you figure that one out on your own.” 

“Already did,” I say, very quietly.  Joker opens his mouth but shuts it again when he sees the warning look in my eyes.

“So how’s it going with you and EDI?” I say, loudly.  There’s a cruel joke making the rounds that Joker and his AI nemesis are romantically involved.  “I hear girls like gifts,” I continue.  “Have you tried getting her some new  software?”

Joker drops his spoon.  I smirk.  I’m expecting a glare and some finely-honed sarcasm in return, but neither materializes.  He isn’t looking at me.  Wait a minute.  Seriously?

“Keep this to yourself,” he mutters.  I can barely hear him.  “She got me a gift.”

I bite my lip.  This is too good.  “What was it?” I ask.

“Software.  Shut up, shut up.  Don’t ask, just think about it for a second.” 

So  I think about it for a second.  “I see.  Um... how’s that working out for you?”

“It’s… pretty good,” he says.  He’s avoiding my eyes.

“Well, I’m glad you’re getting along better,” I manage. 

We don’t speak for the rest of the meal.  Joker’s mortified silence is a rare and wonderful treasure, and the last thing I want to do is spoil it.  I glance at the door to the main battery a few times, but it remains resolutely closed.