Ravi didn't usually drink Northbridge liquor, but he needed something stronger than a sunbrew to get him through this particular party. He was already on his second glass of a drink that tasted like campfire smoke, hoping it might burn away his discomfort. Three years gone by since the hurt was fresh, and it should've numbed. No such luck.

Gadsen's backyard was almost unrecognizable, with blooming flowerpots carted in to border the fence, glimmering hover lights overhead, and a tiny fountain-altar to the First Goddess burbling in one corner. But even with all the notes of respectability that suddenly decorated the place, he could still feel the uneven dips in the lawn left behind from their endless games of backyard mallet. The First Goddess' fountain blocked a burnt portion of the fence from the time Gadsen had accidentally lit a barbecue with crisper torch fuel. None of it felt so long ago.

The bright pink celebration dais constructed in the middle of the yard said otherwise. Some of the other guests were dancing already, even though it was too early. Perhaps they'd rush the rest of the traditions. A relief if they did, because he'd offend no one if he slipped away early.

Across the lawn, he made the mistake of eye-contact with a curious face and dove back into his drink. There was little worse than groping desperately through small talk. Too slow. The man's bemused expression dissolved into recognition, and he grabbed his partner's hand to lead him across the lawn. "Subal Endessen! Is that you?"

Goddess, his voice boomed. Claverin had been loud when he joined Gadsen and Ravi's unit, and he seemed to have gotten louder since leaving it. Ravi dredged up a smile as Claverin and his twiggy partner approached.

"Clav, old friend," he said. "Good to see you."

"A fine thing to see you after all these years!" The man turned to his partner, swiping his hand in introduction. "Banni, this is my old subal."

He shifted his drink to his other hand to touch the proper fingers to the center of his forehead in salute. "Raviro Endessen. Pleasure to meet you."

The skinny young man returned the greeting with sloppy form. "Such an honor!" He laid a hand on Claverin's shoulder. "Clav speaks so highly of his service year with you and Gadsen."

"Oh. Well..." He wracked his brain for something suitably positive. "He was always up for a challenge. Seems to have done you well, Clav." Ravi eyed the thin metal rings of concentric circles forming a ripple on Clav's chest and hoisted another smile. His former recruit outranked him by four. Fuck his entire life.

"All thanks to your training, and Com Gadsen's recommendation." Claverin peered closer at the two paltry rings arrayed below Ravi's shoulder. "I must say, I'm surprised you don't have your own unit to command by now, Subal Endessen. But Gadsen's lucky to have you as his second. I've been through three different units by now, and you're the best of the best."

"I find it's still a good fit." He took a blazing swallow to wash down the lie.

Claverin's partner waved over someone else he recognized, and they all started cooing over the delightful party and the delightful drinks and the delightful bride-to-be, wasn't she lovely? His holowatch glowed into view on his wrist, flashing blue. He'd never been so happy to see it. "Sorry, got to answer this," he murmured, backing away from the group.

It was an excellent excuse to retreat from the yard entirely, and into the dark house. Ravi swiped his thumb down the center of his wrist, and the holowatch blazed to life, the imager projecting above his forearm. The picture flickered, but between waves of sparkling static, he saw a familiar grin.

"Ravi!" Her voice was tinny. "Tell me you didn't go to that jackass's engagement party!"

He cleared his throat. "I... he's not a jackass. Where are you?"

"What? Oh"—someone flew past in the background, waving an enormous flag— "I decided to keep going for the full pilgrimage! Isn't it thrilling? I've always wanted to see the sepulcher of the Little Goddess!"

"But we didn't book any lodgings for you any further than—"

"Stop worrying, darling. I'm sure I'll find something. Everyone is so kind and elevated on the trail!"

"Elevated" was his mother's new favorite description. She listened to too many of that pancake-faced guru's speeches on the elevation of the spirit. The pilgrimage was the guru's fault too, but at least she'd let Ravi work through some of the logistics for her. Although she appeared to be abandoning his carefully researched plan now.

"Mamina," he said, making his voice stern. "You cannot just camp somewhere with a bunch of wandering idiots avoiding their service years by pretending they're on pilgrimage. You're not a seventeen-year-old flower-eater—"

"Yes, thank you very much, nothing like having a nervous thirty-year-old son to remind me of my ancient age."

"I'm not nervous."

"I think it's because you're at that party. Just leave, would you?"

He clenched his jaw. It would be so much easier if he could just walk out. Three fucking years since everything had ended, and he still couldn't do it. Something was wrong with him.

"Ravi, my darling, I love you, but they're lighting the pilgrimage pillars ahead. I'll send you a missive once I find some flower-eaters to camp with!"

"Be safe," he groaned, and then she vanished. He dropped his arm and sagged back against the nearest wall, leaning beside a decorative table covered in artfully arranged shells. The Gadsen he knew would never have had patience for something like that.

Avoiding a return to all the delightfuls, he swiped the holowatch back to life and checked his mother's account balance, transferring a little extra to cover her latest adventure. She had never been good at keeping track of things.

Light spilled over him when the door at the end of the hall opened. He glanced up, and his instinctive smile drained away. "Hello," he said. Much as it hurt, he wrenched the happy mask back into place just as Gadsen got close enough to see him in the darkened hallway.

"Ravi!" Gadsen smiled. "Hiding from the party?" He lounged against the wall, his shoulder too close and his smile too knowing. His olive-brown skin, a shade lighter than Ravi's, caught the glittering colors seeping in from the yard, and his eyes danced with amusement. Ravi gripped his drink and prayed the glass was solid enough to withstand his squeeze.

"Had to check in on my mother. She's on pilgrimage to the sepulcher of the Little."

"Ah." Gadsen nodded. "Her latest quest?"

"Something like that." It was strange to skim the surface like this with him. They'd stumbled along in this awkward rhythm for too long, and he hated it, even though their old ease might've hurt more. They knew so much and so little about each other now.

"I'm grateful you made it, Ravi."

"Of course." He lifted one shoulder slightly. "Wouldn't miss it."

Gadsen shoved his hands into his pockets. Maybe he too was wishing he could sink through the floor. "Any word from the Suzerain's Commissioners?"

If the glass was solid before, it must be titanium now. He eased his stranglehold. "Nothing yet."

"I'm sure you'll hear results any minute." Maybe it was his imagination, but Gadsen's encouraging smile seemed to turn a bit wistful. "Although I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you to stay as my subal. We've built an incredible unit. It won't be the same without you."

Ravi tried not to look at the seven-ripple rank adorning Gadsen's chest and embroidered on his sleeves. Rightfully, half those rings belonged to him, but he'd been such a stupid, lovesick idiot—He cleared his throat. "It'll take some getting used to." Don't say it. Don't say it. "And...I'm sure I'll miss...everything." Fuck. Still an idiot.

Gadsen clasped his shoulder with another hearty squeeze that made him want to cringe. "I'll always keep a place for you, if you ever want to come back to being my subal." His hand lingered, and Ravi shifted to look right at him. He wasn't sure what he wanted Gadsen to see. Three years should have been enough to let everything heal over, but it wasn't. Not when that smile and touch ripped the scab off every fucking day.

"Gad! There you are!"

Gadsen's hand fell away as soon as Jalima appeared, and he sprang off the wall to catch his giggling fiancée by the waist and spin her around. "Just talking with Ravi."

Jalima smiled at him, collecting the hem of her dress in one hand. "Not about the unit, I hope. No business tonight!"

He spoke around the shards of despair in his throat. "As you say, Com." He gave her the title in jest. Threw in a salute for her, even.

The happy couple laughed. Gadsen still had his arms around her, their fingers tangled. His chest hurt so much looking at it he could barely stand still.

"I hate to tear him away, Ravi, but we're supposed to do the For May toasts now—"

"Awesome," he managed. "Go on. I'll think of a good one."

Jalima said something else in her sweet and tinkling voice, maneuvering Gadsen to the door while he cast a dramatic plea for rescue back at Ravi. They both knew he needed no saving from the toasts. Gadsen relished being the center of attention, especially when he'd had a chance to rehearse for it. Ravi took a step after them, just enough to seem as if he were going to follow into the yard. As soon as they were outside, he slumped back against the wall.

Part of him wanted so badly to be out there, laughing and toasting and celebrating the man he'd once called his best friend. He watched Jalima and Gadsen take the dais, hand in hand, and shook his head. Three years. The love that had carried him through so long as Gadsen's subal had withered and died, and now he was walking around with a dead thing in his chest. Didn't want it, couldn't get rid of it. He was not in love. He was in loss. And unless one of these applications for a command position came through, there was no end in sight.

From outside, the For May toast rang out, echoed by laughter. Ravi crossed his arms and listened, watching Jalima and Gadsen over the thicket of raised glasses around them.

"For Jalima, may Gadsen learn to be a better cook!"

"For Gadsen, may Jalima limit the number of robokitties she wires!"

More laughter, the toasts punctuated by the story of Jalima's pet inventions. Ravi had heard her tell variations four times already at one event or another, and it wasn't riveting enough for another listen.

"For Gadsen's ass," he muttered, "may Jalima know how to use a strap-on." He sloshed what was left of his drink at the gathering outside. Maybe that was too harsh. Wasn't her fault Gadsen never told her that Ravi used to be more than just his subal.

Staccato flashes of green from his wrist drew his attention. He swiped his thumb over the holowatch and stared down at the pulsing green alert. Unread missives from an unknown code.

His bruised heart lurched into his throat. Goddess. If this was what he thought it might be, he would never again make fun of his mother for thinking every damned thing was a sign of the future. He brushed a finger through the waiting green light, and the projection shifted, displaying narrow lettering over the seal of the Suzerain's Commissioners.

His application to the command position on the coast had been rejected. He gulped down a breath. It was alright, that one was a longshot. And there were eleven more options, even if some of them lacked prestige. All of them got him away from Gadsen, and that was all he really needed. His fingertip hovered over the next glowing green arrow.

The second one was the same as the first. Rejected.

Ravi's heartbeart slowed to an occasional thump in his ears. The drink nearly spilled from his shaking hand. He scrolled through the missives one by one, light-headed.

His application was rejected.

His application was rejected.

They were sorry to inform him that his application was rejected.

Eventually there were no more green arrows, and Ravi touched his numb wrist. The light from the holowatch was swallowed by the dark house. All his hopes of escaping, rebuilding, starting anew, all of it snuffed out.

He drained the last of the Northbridge firewater and left the glass on the shell table. The house was swaddled in quiet as he ghosted through it, leaving the sound of the party behind. He let himself out the front entrance and jogged down the steps to escape into a hov and find his way home. Home was nowhere close to far enough away.