-1- Belonging

"Hot today, eh, my friend?" Smile.

The routine question received the routine answer, an agreeable nod not far behind. "Isn't it always?"

Though that never surprised anybody, to a thrown-together bunch still feeling each other out, it provided a universal grumbling point with which to begin socializing. To relate as human beings. In the Core, you'd be amazed at the number of citizens who've forgotten how. Most who leave its "civilized" trappings blame the Alliance's deceptive, sales pitch for bringing them to border moons like this. In the process of being built, sweltering, New Abilene was the latest settlement on Dakota.

Of course, what was sweltering to some folk might've been just right to others; having been to hotter places, she fell into the latter group. No one else needed to know that story however, because it'd only complicate things, and complications already abounded. So with a second nod to Ahote, she just hefted the stack of lumber to the spot designated for the general store, keeping her mouth shut. Long as she worked, they didn't pry. Seemed a fair trade. Nothing said socializing had to involve honesty.

Besides, she herself could hardly remember who she'd been. What was her present turned into distant past, becoming ancient history so many times over that the truths of it got lost to myth. Her hair had even changed, the golden color she'd kept for so long having faded to a light, autumn brown decades ago--by linear, earths-ly standards. At this particular point, she was a nameless settler, who sweat and hauled and hammered, garnering respect from her fellows.

Adorned with scars hidden and not, possessing strength beyond understanding, and wearing a Verse-weary countenance, a few first thought she might've been in the war. Except, given her size and age, while not impossible, it didn't altogether fit. But they didn't pry.

Once the lumber was relocated, the outwardly twenty-three-year old removed the straw hat tied about her chin, allowing a confined mess of str