Saldug wasn’t the most trusting Tistcho out there. Definitely not after last week’s incident. Naida on the other hand? He’s probably the most considerate.

Pleasant, efficient, and the only other one eyed being at Saldug’s office, Naida made all his connections with his kindness; reaching out to a crying coworker, relieving the most stressed, and taking notes on meetings Saldug was too flustered to make.

Their schedules weren't as intertwined anymore, but the moment Saldug came back from the hospital, his gut tugged at him, insisted that sooner or later, Naida would find him and offer comfort (A logical tug. Naida was Saldug’s junior at one point).

That day when Naida walked into Saldug’s corner office, the latter was not surprised to see that smile on his forehead, and hear it say how sorry he was for what happened.

“After all you’ve done for me here, I have no choice but to help you recover.”

Saldug expected such a statement, and he was about to respond before Naida strode over to his desk and pulled a paper business card from his pocket. “This is my way of helping,” he said.

Saldug was slightly othered by the object. He was under the impression that paper went extinct.

“I was too, but it turns out some old-fashioned folk make it as a hobby.”

Saldug’s bloodshot orb flicked up to his colleague, who just smiled and added, “You thought they didn’t make paper anymore, didn’t you? I thought the same before my uncle handed me this back in training.”

The door slid open behind the two, and a cleaning bot entered soon after. Naida turned to Saldug, hiding the card between their hands, and whispered, “Follow the coordinates into ForeCoal, ask for Milly, and follow all instructions. If Milly is there, take some more time off.”

He left without another word, actively avoiding the bot in the room and one Saldug saw in the hall.

Saldug still held the card as he turned his back to the bot to examine it. The card was white in some lighting and a pink lighter than a baby Shibirt in others. Aside from some flowery designs, all that was on the card was coordinates and a dark blue logo for “Silly Old Silly’s Bakery”.

Help? From a bakery? In Forecoal? With each question came a red flag in Saldug’s mind. But then he looked down at the red glove on his third arm, and he saw all the pity others gave him for it. Naida hadn’t failed him yet, so if he knew anyone or anything that could get Saldug to not hate that damned object, or dare he say treat it, he would take Naida’s word for it.

He called his pet sitter and explained that he would be late that day check something out. He stumbled and mumbled and blurted out gibberish, but this new sitter was patient and understanding of him.

When it was time to clock out, he awkwardly waved at all his coworkers with his red glove ('Damn you, force of habit.') as he headed to the parking lot. Naida's hovercraft was parked next to his. He stopped what he was doing and asked Saldug, "Gonna check out that bakery now?"

Saldug tensed, but still nodded. He unlocked his craft, and Naida held his door open for him. He thanked his junior and rolled down his window.

"I promise you," Naida said as the engine started. "It'll help you like it helped me."

Saldug backed out of the space and Naida waved him off. As he looked up at the rear-view mirror, he saw that he left Naida smiling and rubbing his right ear.

Naida was his friend, his colleague. He wanted what was best for him. Saldug told himself this over and over as his personal craft dove into Forecoal; the grimiest planet to be caught dead on.

Seeing all the decrepit buildings with the busted doors and windows, all the worn out Candrites and Flordines standing under red lights, Saldug’s mind should’ve been speculating on what kind of “bakery” this “Silly” person ran. Should’ve. Instead, Saldug attempted to envision Naida looking out one of those broken windows, or standing with a Flordine, talking to one in a red hue.

After what seemed like hours, Saldug parked in the crappiest lot with the most parking and hoped the dent on his beat up 00913 Model left it undesirable.

He took a wrong turn to park and had to trek through ten minutes of ForeCoal to reach his destination. After ignoring all shouts and bangs and offers that fell in front of his three feet, Saldug was surprised, thankful, and otherwise put off, to see that the coordinates led to the best-looking building on the planet. That’s to say “best” in this case means “most put together.” Paint wasn’t chipping off the walls like the VR brothel down the road, and its sign projection wasn’t flicking on and off like the “Pawn” Shop right next door. But the projection was the only normal thing about the building.

While the paint was fresh, it was such a washed out pink. Pastel, like the card. There was a wooden sign with the same logo just below the projection too, existing as if the former didn’t, but the shop lacked windows. Painted sills with painted flowers took their place. And then there was the door. Pastel pink, wooden, and had hinges on one side; Saldug would have to push the door open himself.

Now the door’s paint was chipped and faded a little, as if it were older than the shop, and it was obvious when it came to the three teal grins in the middle. Each smile was wider than the last, and the third one had the sharpest teeth. If Saldug had to guess as he pushed open the door, and heard the cheesiest bell ring, the shop was run or at least owned by an old-fashioned Shnifin. Which is ironic given how many led the tech advancement for many years.

Soon after the chime, Saldug heard a voice sing, “Just give me a moment and I’ll be right with you! Just take a look around and see what you like!”

And so Saldug did. He gazed down at the display window so his eyes could feast on all the cakes and cupcakes and Swarthies he could see. “Jude Rude Swarthies,” “Worf-Whipped Pies,” “Silly’s Surprise Special.” If Saldug could smell how appetizing these treats were, it could erase the image of the unappetizing outside world. Could.

When the door behind the counter swung open, it was no surprise that a Shnifin came through with a tray in all four hands. That pink pastel apron of his contradicted his dark blue complexion, but all three cheerful grins complimented the fabric perfectly.

The whites of his eyes all but engulfed his pupils as one pair of lips curled to say, “Welcome to Silly Old Silly’s Bakery. As you can guess I am the one and only Silee. That’s S-I-L-E-E, contrary to what the sign will tell you. I’m not sure what went through the carpenter’s mind at the time.” He ended his long-winded introduction with a giggle.

Saldug didn’t respond until Silee asked what he would like. “Oh, uh…” He fumbled through his pockets until he found the card and held it out. “I got this from a friend, actually…He told me to, uh, ask you if I could see Milly?”

Silee’s second smile dropped ever so slightly. “Ah, that’s why you’re here. You certainly can today. Just let me put all these trays down and I’ll take you to him.”

With all the new treats put into place, Silee went back through the other door and waved at Saldug to follow. And he did so, the hair on his arms spiking at the slight change in Silee’s tone.

Saldug had to squeeze through the counter’s door a little, but had no problem pushing the back door open and walking over to yet another door Silee stood by. It was probably the darkest thing Saldug saw in the entire bakery, and it was probably older than his Mima.

Silee removed the padlock, another relic of the past, and opened the door. More darkness stood behind it, threatening to swallow Saldug whole. Before he took another step, Silee lit a candle and handed it to him. “It’s a long way down, so take your time. Milly will be waiting for you,” He said with all three smiles.

Saldug returned it for a second, and then stepped forward. He took three steps down before Silee warned him with a lullaby, “There’s plenty of light downstairs, so I’m just going to close the door to give you two privacy!”

With that, Silee shut out all the light Saldug could see, save the flickering candle he desperately grasped.