Following
continued from [here] @positronicoverlore
As the edge left Lore’s voice, Dustfinger’s gaze rose again, no longer fearful of swift retribution, but prepared to be more cautious in their conversation.
Lore’s question was a good one. Yes, Fire-Dancer, why are you still following him? He'd hardly thought about it consciously himself. He supposed it was that the android was the closest he’d gotten to something familiar, strange as it seemed for a mechanical man. He too was a stranger in the galaxy, wandering without a home. He wasn’t especially kind, but he looked at and spoke to Dustfinger like he was a person.
This place was much too fast for Dustfinger, and Lore wasn’t afraid to take it slow, and play the long game. He seemed practically immortal, and in no great rush like the rest of the quadrant, to see and do as much as he possibly could in as little time as possible. So despite their many, many differences, and the fact that he was so clearly unwanted, Dustfinger stayed with Lore.
“I guess I’ve got nowhere better to go,” he answered at last, once he’d turned it all over in his own mind. “And none of the organics I’m even allowed to contact are anything like me.” He found himself beginning to use Lore’s terminology. “Because of their Prime Directive, I can’t exactly catch a shuttle to any planets as ‘primitive’ as mine.”
