The Craton had become her home, but right now Apollonia felt less welcome than she had since she'd boarded.

No one was acting differently; if people looked at her, it was just curiosity or a random glance, not a look of disgust or hatred.

But it still felt worse.

She'd scanned herself, but the medical drone had found nothing wrong with her. No fever, no increased white cell count, nothing except a slight headache, which the drone had explained to her the cause of in excruciating detail. Something about blood vessels in her temple, and after giving her a mild painkiller it assured her it was nothing serious.

But the painkiller hadn't helped.

Normally she might ask Y, as she had the other day, but somehow right now . . .

Didn't she go running to him enough? He was her friend, sure, but this was just a minor pain.

Even if it made everything feel like it sucked.

It was like there was a high-pitched ringing, but her tablet told her there was no such sound.

She knew she was hearing it though.

"So I'm going crazy," she said aloud.

A young man passing near her glanced over.

"I'm just going crazy," she repeated, louder, meeting his eyes.

"Oh, yeah, I have days like that," he said, nodding sympathetically, then continuing on.

But he probably wasn't actually going crazy, she thought.

She'd walked this hallway a thousand times, it seemed. It was brightly lit, with hydroponic plants covering one wall. More greenery than she'd ever seen outside of an algae vat on New Vitriol. Even those pipes that were exposed were decorated beautifully in a brassy metal. She'd taken time one day to peer closely at them and found that they were stylized images of men, women and oxen ploughing fields. That theme seemed pretty common in Union art, she mused.

Right now, though, it all seemed ominous. She found herself drifting away from the happy plants and towards the other wall whenever she stopped paying attention.

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Was the ringing coming from the plants or pipes? She asked her tablet in a low voice to check, but it came up with nothing. If anything it was just confused by the question, going into a topic about how plants liked music.

She shut it up and hurried on before anyone started giving her weird looks.

Coming to an intersection, she turned into a hall that was not lined in plants, but it did no good; she still heard the ringing.

Rubbing her forehead, her head tucked down, she did not notice the man until she walked into him.

"Oh shit!" she hissed. "Sorry! I didn't mean to . . . Oh!"

It was the Priest from Gohhi, who had led her back to the Craton.

She stared openly, jaw slightly agape. "Since when are you on the ship?" she demanded.

The man smiled at her. "Hello, Apollonia. I am pleased to see you again."

"That doesn't answer my question!" she snapped back.

Surprise widened his eyes somewhat, and she realized just how rude she was being. "I mean - it's good to see you, too! But why are you here?"

His small smile returned. "I have joined the ship as a civilian. Not long after we met, I was ordered to fill a placement that my order had put in for this vessel years ago. Apparently, I was picked some months ago, but I only discovered the morning I was to board." His smile turned into something of a smirk. "Conveniently, I do not have many belongings, so packing was easy."

"Oh," she replied. A dozen thoughts went through her head. "Why didn't you . . . tell me after you came aboard? You knew I lived on the ship," she asked, pausing as she realized just how strange a request it was.

"After I came aboard I felt perhaps it would be poor manners to search for you and tell you. I assumed at some point we would bump into each other - though I admit I did not think it would be literal - and then you would know."

It was annoyingly reasonable, she thought. Feeling suddenly very awkward, moreso than she normally did in social situations, she found herself looking down at the floor.

"Well, it's nice to see you again," she said.

"Thank you," the Priest said. Then, after a moment, he added; "You had already said that, however."

She looked up, eyes wide, her cheeks burning.

He looked surprised. "Not that there's anything wrong with that," he added quickly. "I am pleased to have left such a good impression upon you."

"Well, it's just that you helped me," Apollonia said. "And I'm . . . grateful. That's all."

"Of course," the Priest replied. He paused, cocking his head to one side. "I do not believe I ever introduced myself, however. I am Father Cathal Sair."

Apollonia hadn't even known his name until now. "I'm, uh . . . Apollonia Nor. But you already know that."

"Thank you for forgiving my rudeness," he said. "I should have introduced myself properly before."

"It's okay," she told him. She was about to continue when she felt a deeper stab of pain from her headache. She winced - and saw him wince, too.

"Are you having a headache?" she asked.

"Yes," he admitted. "I have felt somewhat unwell since the ship's captain brought us in search of these pirates. It's all very exciting, I suppose, I've never been on a vessel that may have to be in combat."

Apollonia ignored the last bit. "Do you . . . feel like this headache is weird?"

Cathal's face went into mild confusion, but then shifted to serious. "Yes. I know exactly what you mean."

"So I'm not crazy!" she burst out.

"No, you most certainly are not. I believe that some of us who are . . . more sensitive to these sorts of things can feel a wrongness in this region of space."

"It does feel wrong!" Apollonia agreed. "Dark, though, I just wish I could get rid of it for a little bit."

Cathal considered. "I have found some relief through focus . . . have you ever prayed, Apollonia Nor?"

The question was a surprise to her, and she felt awkward again. "Well . . . I mean, technically I'm a Reformed Tedeist, I guess, but I never really followed that nonsense."

Cathal nodded understandingly. "Some faiths do not call to us as powerfully as others. I do not mean to be presumptuous, but - why not come and join me in prayer? Even if you do not believe, the focus on learning them may help. I will not be offended if you decline to join my faith, of course." He smiled again, the slight smirk that bespoke a mischievous nature behind his serious exterior.

Apollonia realized she was smiling. "Yeah, that sounds good," she told him. "Praying, I mean. It'd be fun. Or, well, serious? I guess I can't even rule out that I might abandon my own true religion of cynicism. It's kind of a drag anyway."

She shut herself up, her cheeks turning red again as she realized she was rambling. But Father Sair only smiled, seeming genuinely amused, and gestured down the hall in the direction he'd come from.

"Follow me, then."