A warm rush of air hits my skin as I walk out of the bay doors into the main atrium of the Pajorat base. Lush green branches extend upward, reaching toward the panes of glass high above. I blink against the dazzling rays of sunlight streaming in. I reminded of somewhere from my past, somewhere buried so deep in my memories that I’d almost forgotten it existed.

I walk slowly around the perimeter, now and then reaching out to let my fingertips graze a damp, glossy leaf or catch on the rough bark of a tree. It’s mesmerizing. I feel like I could get lost here. But there’s something I need to do.

I’m looking for a supply shop when I catch sight of Jahdra. She’s with someone—it looks like Hiro’s boss from back in the docking ring. Does she know him?

I feel something twist inside of me as I watch them walk across the length of the atrium. I’ve never seen her smile like that before. I hang back, hoping to avoid their notice, and try to push down the unpleasant feelings rising inside of me.

“Chaff?”

The surly looking dealer points to a supply catalogue on the wall.

“Thanks,” I say, heading over to scroll through the selection. I’ll admit that I’m beginning to get a little paranoid the longer I spend on Chrysanthemum. But then again, I guess it’s only paranoia if it’s unfounded. Facing off first with the Vanguard and now another unidentified vessel feels like reason enough to be on guard. It’s better to be prepared as far as I’m concerned.

“Planning on picking a fight with someone?”

I turn around to see Hiro standing behind me. I hadn’t expected to see her again so soon, but I can’t say I’m disappointed.

“Not exactly,” I say with a smile, returning to the catalogue. Hiro leans against the wall, watching me. It’s obvious she wants something, but at least she has the decency to wait until I’ve concluded my business.

“So?” I say, once I’ve made my selection and finished with the dealer.

“It’s my cold torch,” Hiro admits without preamble, keeping stride with me as amble around the supply shop to see if there’s anything of interest. “It died on me pretty much right after you left.”

I smile, stopping to look at some overpriced couplings.

“And you need mine.”

Hiro claps a hand down on my shoulder.

“I knew you’d understand.”

“Alright,” I say. “I’ll drop it off in a few and come back to pick it up before I leave.”

Hiro stops and gives me an awkward look.

“You want me to give you my cold torch?” I ask incredulously. It’s not like cold torches are hard to come by—there’s probably a dozen different kinds in this shop alone. But they can get expensive.

“Not give,” Hiro says defensively. “I’d trade you something for it.”

I consider this for a moment. I definitely don’t want to be without a torch, but if I need one, I can always use on of Chrysanthemum’s. At least for now.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I stop perusing the modulator fittings and look at Hiro.

“What kind of trade are we talking?”

“It’s an RTT-110,” Hiro says. “Standard range, two instruments.” I turn the small black box over in my hands. It’s heavier than it looks.

“Defects?” I ask. I can’t imagine someone would be willing to get rid of a perfectly good remote transporter. Even the most impressive torch has only a fraction of the value. There’s got to be something wrong with it.

“It works fine,” Hiro says, “but I just got a new RT-220, so I don’t really need this one anymore.” Even if Chrysanthemum didn’t have a torch I could use in a pinch, this feels like too good a deal to pass up. But I don’t want to seem too eager.

“Alright,” I say after a minute or two of consideration. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Hiro grins at me, and I can’t help but notice how much her manners have improved now that it’s her who needs something from me.

“I knew there was a good reason you stopped by my ship.”

I head back to the Chrysanthemum to retrieve the torch I’ve promised Hiro. My chaff is waiting at the dock when I get there, along with a large amount of fuel Jahdra must have ordered. I look down at the RTT-110 in my hand and back at the pallets waiting to be loaded.

I have no idea whether Chrysanthemum’s transporter is actually broken or if that’s another one of Jahdra’s lies, but I have a feeling that getting these supplies onboard is about to get a lot easier. What better way to make sure my new remote transporter does what’s promised?

It takes a few minutes to get the hang of, but before long, I’ve got the chaff on Remus and half of the fuel on Chrysanthemum. That’s good enough for now, I decide. When I finally emerge with the cold torch to take back to Hiro, I notice someone’s waiting for me.

“Hiro sent you to make sure I didn’t run off with her transporter, huh?” Nifty doesn’t respond, but I know I’m right.

We walk back along the docking ring in relative silence. Nifty looks for all the world just like anyone else on Pajorat, but I had him pegged almost immediately. I wonder if he could see it in me too—that unquantifiable something that sets us apart from the others.

I stop momentarily to admire a particularly spectacular palm growing just outside the glass bay doors, its leaves large enough to make a bed on, and when I turn back around, I notice that Nifty seems equally captivated by the tree. There’s a look in his eye, something like pain or regret, or maybe just nostalgia—it’s hard to say. But either way, I pretend I didn’t see it and continue walking.

“You know, I’ve got a friend who might be able to help him,” I say, handing the torch to a delighted Hiro.

“What do you mean?” she asks, inspecting the tool closely.

“I mean his audio processor,” I say, nodding toward Nifty just as he disappears inside Romulus. “She could take a look and see if she can fix it.”

“Nifty isn’t broken,” Hiro says, looking up at me, her eyes cold and her voice suddenly defensive. “He doesn’t need to be fixed.” She looks back down at the torch and shrugs. “He just is the way that he is.”

I’m a bit surprised by Hiro’s reaction to my suggestion.

“Shouldn’t it be up to Nifty?” I ask. I know I’m taking a chance in saying so, but it should be his decision to make, not Hiro’s.

“Look, the last person who went poking around in his head is probably the reason he’s deaf to begin with,” she says, climbing onto the front of the ship. “Apparently somebody thought a long-range transceiver was somehow more important that the ability to hear.” I can hear the bitterness in her voice. She’s not trying to control Nifty, I realize. She’s trying to protect him. But there’s something else in what she’s just said—something important. I feel my hand instinctively go to the spot behind my right ear as I try to process what it is. There’s something she just told me without meaning to. But what?

“Besides, he’s come up with his own way of communicating,” Hiro continues, her voice a bit lighter as she climbs the rungs of the hull. “An audio-tactile algorithm.”

Now that’s interesting.

“So really, he’s got a leg up on the rest of us,” I say. “—long-range and short-range comms.”

“Yep.” I can see Hiro smile, though she doesn’t look up from her work.

“Huh,” I say, thinking over this information. “That’s pretty—” Hiro stops and looks at me.

“Go ahead, you can say it,” she smirks.

But my mind is already elsewhere.

Long-range transceiver.

Unknown vessel.

Running.

Running from what?

No.

Running from who?

“You go somewhere?” Hiro looks down at me curiously, the corner of her mouth curled into a smile. But I don’t answer. I can’t answer.

I’m too busy trying to figure out how I’m going to explain to everyone that this is all my fault.