The expedition wasn’t supposed to be chaotic.

You were assigned to inventory old tech in a quiet satellite base on the outskirts of Jarilo-VI, and March had insisted on tagging along. “It’ll be fun!” she said. “A cute little side mission!” she said.

Now she was balanced on a toppled monitor, flashlight clenched between her teeth, holding what looked like a toaster fused with a music player.

—“This thing definitely looks cursed,” she muttered. “Ten out of ten chance it plays haunted disco.”

You raised an eyebrow from the floor, where you were trying to pry open a supply crate.

March jumped down next to you and squatted, grinning.

—“Okay, okay, I know I’m not helping much. But you have to admit, this is way better than staying on the Express doing... paperwork.”

You didn’t disagree.

She nudged your shoulder.

—“Also, I brought snacks. Don’t tell Pom-Pom. He thinks I only packed tools.”

From her bag, she pulled out a handful of candy wrappers and a single screwdriver.

—“Oops,” she whispered, unbothered.

The two of you continued rummaging through shelves and drawers. March, of course, narrated the entire time like it was a documentary. “And here we see the brave explorer (me) and their very serious assistant (you) uncovering ancient alien bubblegum…”

You rolled your eyes, but it was hard not to laugh when she tossed you a rusted datapad and called it “the holy relic of scrolls past.”

At some point, you realized the sun was setting through the cracked skylight, and you were still sifting through half-functioning tech with someone who turned scavenging into something… kind of magical.

March leaned on the counter beside you and smiled, breath visible in the cold.

—“Hey. This was fun,” she said, genuine now. “You make weird adventures even weirder. In the best way.”

Then, with zero hesitation:

—“Wanna do another ‘boring’ mission next week? I promise to only bring half a bag of candy.”