“Now it just might feel more like a home,” Afafa said with a warm smile on her face as she hung a bolt of cloth over the line and turned toward Hope. “You don’t mind this, do you?” she asked from the corner of her mouth, with what she thought was a welcoming, yet slightly mischievous, smile.

Hope Reese inclined her head and turned on her heels to look at the thin green cloth now hanging over their room’s single window. While it blocked the view to the outside, the lightly-fluttering fabric gave the whole room a diffusely lit feel, like there was a covered lamp in the corner, but without significantly reducing the brightness of the place. “That’s quite alright,” Hope said primly, watching Afafa’s grin as she moved across the room.

On their arrival, the initial sense of a bond between the two of them had almost faded for a moment, as Afafa lashed out at that man – Ryan Sawyer. Hope thought, for a moment, that perhaps she couldn’t trust Afafa after all, that someone so quick to turn on others would not make a proper friend or ally. But Afafa had forgiven her for her offense, and Hope supposed there must have been some particular conflict between Afafa and Ryan. Whatever the issue might be, it wasn’t really her place to push right now.

“You really want to just let me do whatever I want with this place?” Afafa grinned mischievously and bent down next to one of the suitcases peeking out from under her bed. To Hope, it seemed Afafa had brought along far more luggage than any reasonable person would need – but then, that wasn’t completely alien to her. From the adjoining room a scraping sound issued, and Hope glanced in the direction of the door. On the other side, Ryan must still be setting up his dormitory, though he was being fairly quiet about it. Afafa didn’t seem to notice. The Orrmisti woman crossed the room carrying a string with a series of colorful ribbons attached. Despite having been shoved into a suitcase, the ribbons fell neatly beside one another, those that were tangled coming untied with only the swaying of the whole construction. Afafa climbed up onto Hope’s bed and reached toward the nearest corner of the wall.

“Hey!” Hope called out. Afafa turned immediately and stepped down from the bed, perhaps only from the shock of hearing Hope speak so loudly. Hope’s throat felt dry and sore, and she winced at the resurgence of tightness in her chest. “Sorry,” she grumbled. “Just… I guess I do have some boundaries.”

Afafa laughed. “And you’ve got a fire in you with which to defend them,” she said. “Why act so timid, anyway? Don’t just let me walk all over you.” She climbed down from the bed and moved to hang up the ribbon-string over her own side of the room.

“It’s just decorations,” Hope said. “I don’t need anything like that, but you seem to be enjoying yourself, so…” She moved to the bed, set her coat down, and lay down, feet flat on the ground while leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. “Besides, I probably won’t be spending very much time here to be honest. The computer laboratory is in this building as well, and I’ll probably be there most of the time.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Afafa murmured, and pushed the suitcase under the bed with her foot. “You’re one of those software people, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Hope held up a hand toward the ceiling in a thumbs-up gesture. “That must seem pretty boring, compared to talking with aliens.”

“Maybe…” Afafa said, not sounding sure of herself. “But the things we do often do have a way of becoming mundane, even if they seem exciting to others. And of course, interspecies communication is full of frustrations and false paths.”

“Ha,” Hope said. “That’s exactly what my work is like too.”

“You know,” Afafa ventured, “This may simply be a difference of… culture, I suppose.” Her wounds sounded more clipped and carefully chosen than usual, and she spoke haltingly. “But when I picture someone who spends their time working on computers I don’t normally imagine them carrying a sword around at all times.”

Hope lowered her hand to her side and ran her fingers along the clasps holding her sword in its scabbard. “I suppose it is a difference of culture,” she said. “I’m surprised you find it remarkable at all. Don’t you know all about this sort of thing, being a diplomat?”

“Oh, I do,” replied Afafa without turning around. “But your reaction to the question tells me something.”

Hope narrowed her eyes, a bit suspiciously. Was her roommate trying to test her? And if so, what did she hope to learn? She sat down on a corner of the bed, watching Afafa out the corner of her eye. “And what exactly does it tell you?”

“If you were Orrmisti, I would say you were one of the nobility,” Afafa answered smoothly, moving to stand against the wall nearby and leaning slightly back. “It’s customary for young boys and girls of many houses to learn martial skills, and to carry weapons with them.”

“You aren’t carrying a weapon,” Hope replied immediately, though she wondered if it was really true. She tried to size up Afafa – under that robe it wouldn’t be too difficult to hide a weapon – a knife or perhaps even a pistol. “Why not?”

“Well,” Afafa began, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I was never very good when it came to the martial skills. My talents have always been elsewhere, so eventually my family simply gave up on trying to force it.” She held up a hand, flexing her fingers. “Besides, my region of the Confederation does not, technically speaking, have a noble class at all. Some others do – most others, indeed – but not Ghaii.”

“And yet you didn’t correct Ryan back there, when he called you ‘princess’.”

“Well.” Afafa smiled slightly. “It’s true, while Ghaii does not have a formal nobility, my familiar may as well be part of the aristocracy. Everyone in my family is involved with the council, so I can hardly avoid… well, the politics, or the way of life. It’s just a world I’ve grown to be part of.”

Hope chuckled, and she had to admit she felt a bit nervous. This woman several years her junior was talking circles around her, when they’d only recently been properly introduced to one another.

Hold on, she thought, this is a conversation, not a competition, why am I…?

She looked down at her feet for a moment then back toward Afafa. “So you don’t take offense at the title, then?” She tried to wear her best mischievous half-smile when she said it.

“When he says it, of course I do!” Afafa gave a sharp laugh, none too amused. “He thinks I am some stuffy political figure looking down on him from above, somebody who ‘just doesn’t understand’ him. Hah! That man is an open book. He has a chip on his shoulder and he wants everyone to know it.” Hope couldn’t keep eye contact with Afafa – and it wasn’t just the overwhelming presence of the other girl that caused this. There was something about the way she dismissed Ryan that made Hope wonder if she was being honest.

She chose not to press the issue.

“But what brings you here, anyway?” Hope’s heart leapt into her throat as Afafa turned the conversation around. “Why did you come to work on this project?”

Hope sighed and steadied herself before gathering the breath to speak. “Well, it wasn’t easy to convince my family to allow me to leave Rivenstad and come all the way over here. Especially with the war going on I don’t think they were keen on having me run off, but at least… well.” She gave an almost apologetic smile toward Afafa. “At least I wasn’t leaving to join the army.” She took in a deep breath, trying to steady her voice so it wouldn’t sound so hoarse, trying to maintain eye contact with Afafa.

“But I first heard about the Ifterra Project a long time ago, when I was just a child. And ever since then I’ve wanted to join, so this is… you could say it’s a dream come true, to me. I’ve been practicing and studying software up till now, hoping I could convince the Project to take me, and my family to let me go. And finally, it happened. And now I’m here, so…”

“Ha, your story is almost the opposite of mine,” Afafa said, smiling. “Well, this is just a temporary assignment anyway. My true responsibility is to the Confederation, and there is such instability there. Both continents across the Great Border are fraying with dissent over the situation in New Tenoch.”

Hope’s smile fell immediately. “The war, you mean? The war in New Tenoch?”

Afafa made a sound like a sputter, if somewhat more dignified. “Well…” she said. “I would not exactly call it a war, there have hardly been any open battles, confrontations between armies… Just a very bad situation overall.”

“That’s what a war is, isn’t it?” Hope leaned back, splaying out the fingers of both hands.

Afafa didn’t say anything for a long while. Then: “I suppose. And in addition, there is much concern over what to do about AmEterna. As though it is really any of our business. In my opinion, we ought to stay out of those affairs.”

Hope hoped it wasn’t obvious how heavily she was breathing at the mention of AmEterna. “Well…” she said, strained. “If that’s what you think, I guess you would be the expert. Being an Orrmisti diplomat and all.”

“Well, you are Rivenstadi, are you not?” Afafa said with confidence that said it was a statement, and not a question. Then: “What do you think of AmEterna?”

Hope couldn’t take her eyes off her feet. “I think the war in Rivenstad has hurt a lot of people and needs to end as quickly as possible. And I wish everyone would simply make peace.”

“From what I understand, John Seid does not want peace. He wants control, over all of Rivenstad, and then eventually Koldrai_en as well. Some people say that he will even come here, eventually, seeking all the technology we have, and our strategic location relative to the Aliens. What he wants with the Aliens, nobody knows, but there are enough rumors of scouts in these lands that I suppose he must want something.” Afafa spoke faster and faster – or was that just Hope’s increasingly panicked imagination? Hope could hardly hide her discomfort any longer.

“Look, John Seid is crazy, alright?” she half-shouted. “I think everybody knows that. Nobody more so than his own kin! And maybe AmEterna wouldn’t be so bad, you know, if it wasn’t him in charge, if somebody else took over and started leading them down a better path. There could be peace, cooperation…”

Afafa sighed and, just like that, the assault ceased. Only when it was over did Hope realize how much it had truly felt like an attack, a barrage of pointed questions that cut through her and made her question whether Afafa was truly a friend or an enemy-in-waiting. “I can see this is a sensitive subject for you,” Afafa said. “I’m sorry I pushed you so hard. I was simply curious.”