Swamped

You don't feel ready to leave just yet. Maybe it's that she's in such bad shape, maybe it's because you're not up to doing secret missions that you can't see any reason to keep secret.

On the other hand, you're not sure where to go from here.

"Is, uh, is there anything you need?" you ask.

"Well, I could use a book or something," she says. "I have a lot of trouble sitting still without anything to keep me occupied. That's, um, kind of what got me running off earlier."

You do still need to have a talk about that, but not until she's better.

"Don't worry about that right now," you say. "I guess you wouldn't have a chance to bring anything, since we left kind of suddenly and you weren't expecting to go at all."

"Yeah. Only what I had in my pouch. But I don't think they want me catching bugs here."

"Probably not. Even if you were up for it, there's always the risk they'd get loose and lay eggs and we'd have an infestation of desert bugs in the swamp."

"That or they just wouldn't do well in all the humidity. Oh, but maybe once I feel better, I can catch some for the greblings to take care of. They probably have an insect specialist."

"It'd make sense, they seem to be studying a lot of different things here."

"I wonder why," Starling muses, and you realize you hadn't given that a lot of thought.

You have a bit of a hunch, though. Not so much about what the point of all the studying is, but why they're out here.

You spent years in a fortress of criminals and exiles. Or, put more simply, outcasts. People who were rejected by their homelands, and had no real place to go.

You can't be surrounded by so many people like that and not recognize the signs here. Greblings here tend to stick to their tents and not come out unless they need something, or Yvonne specifically asks for them. At first you thought they might be wary around humans, but then you realized it was how they acted around each other, too.

Because that's what they're used to. They didn't feel welcome in their colonies, so they didn't venture out much. At some point, the rejection became too much - maybe it turned violent, maybe they just couldn't take the judgmental stares any more. Whatever the reason, this is a place where they can work on their scientific passions in peace.

Or, put more simply. This is their home. And they don't have another one.

"I think most of them study stuff because they like to study it," you settle on saying. "At least, that's the impression I've gotten."

"Makes sense," Starling mutters. She sounds like she's drifting off. A few minutes later, she's snoring loudly.

You can't help but smile at seeing her resting calmly for once. You should find something for her to do when she wakes up.

You head out and tell the greblings she's fallen asleep.

"You sure it's not some kind of trick?" one of them asks.

"She's never been able to fool me," you say. "You can relax."

The guards don't seem entirely reassured, but you did what you could.

So. What are you taking care of next?