Just squeezing through the doorway, Pirra whistled a shrill curse as something clunked in her bag.

"Was that one of the gifts?" Alexander asked.

"No," she said, truly unsure, but knowing they had precious little time to check right now.

With over ten thousand people leaving the ship, getting on one of the shuttles to Plucharon Station was insanely difficult. Allowance for tardiness wasn't being tolerated, not with the numbers they had to deal with.

And they had to catch their flight to the inner-system, or else their entire time-table would be thrown off.

There was still time, though, she felt sure. But they couldn't stop.

"Are you sure?" he asked, heaving up a bag on his shoulders and wincing. "God, how tightly did you pack this?"

"It's not that heavy," she chided.

"I don't have your augments," he muttered. "It's got to be almost fourteen kilos."

"Well, I had to bring my wing covers, it's important to look good," Pirra replied matter-of-factly.

"You've met my parents before," he said. "And how many did you bring?"

"Six," she replied.

"Six? We're only going to be there for two days! Why do you need more than two?"

She knew her expression - crest rising purely vertical, eyes opening as wide as she could, had to look, to him, like a massive overreaction.

But she was scandalized.

"I need at least two per day!" she said. "And what if one of them gets dirty? Do you expect me to be in front of your parents with dirty wings?" She looked away, making a sound of emotional pain.

It wasn't feigned on her part, and she definitely was not vain by her own kind's standards. It would be humiliating if she ran into that situation.

"It's too late, anyway, we have to hurry," she said.

Alexander sighed and tromped after her, bearing up with the weight of the bag hanging from one shoulder.

He could handle it, but it'd be uncomfortable for their journey to the station. Maybe she did over-estimate his strength sometimes. Even though his limbs were massively thicker than any of her kind, Dessei muscles were more efficient, rendering the two species loosely similar in strength.

Still, even as a thin human, he looked positively swole to a Dessei.

She felt a tug on her sleeve, and distractedly looked down.

It was a boy, Elliot, the son of Iago Caraval. She knew him well.

"Dad asked me to come and tell you he wishes you both a safe trip," the boy said.

"Oh, thanks Elliot. Tell your dad to focus on feeling better," Pirra replied, trying to force her smile while juggling the luggage in her hands.

"Okay," the boy replied. He seemed disgruntled, and Pirra knew he must be worried about his father. "He wanted to come himself but Dr. Loogie didn't give him permission."

Though Caraval seemed much better the last time Pirra had seen him, he was still confined to quarters for a few more days, she knew, pending Dr. Logus's approval.

"Elliot!" Alexander said, shifting the bag on his shoulder. "Don't call him that. It's Logus."

"That's what I said," Elliot replied innocently. "Anyway, see ya later!" He ran off down the hall, yelling back over his shoulder.

The door three meters away opened, and a familiar face peered out.

"Sorry Tred," she said before he could talk. "I'll try to remember to be quieter in the future."

He seemed half-sorry himself, and half annoyed. "You said that last time."

"I'm in a hurry," Pirra replied curtly, and pushed on down the hall.

This bag was so lumpy. It wasn't heavy, but it managed to be awkwardly large, and she couldn't let it swing at her side without bashing her legs. Why did he have to bring so many gifts? She wasn't aware that that was a standard human thing, and giving people things always seemed odd to her. There were few things one could give that were worth keeping.

She saw the time flash in her system HUD. They'd wasted too much time, and now they needed to really rush.

"Hurry, Alex!" she said, breaking into a run, almost crashing into the Apollonia girl as she came out of her own cabin.

"Sorry, excuse me," Pirra breathed, hurrying on.

Alexander said more sedately as he passed her next; "Excuse us, we just have to catch our shuttle."

"Me too," Apollonia replied. "Mind if I just follow you?"

Alexander had gone on, but shook his head. "Not a problem, just keep up!"

*******

Apollonia was glad to be able to follow the man and alien, as she still didn't know the ship well enough to get to the loading bay comfortably.

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She was running late as well, though Brooks had told her they'd be taking a personal shuttle, courtesy of Urle.

She had wondered what to pack, but other than identical changes of clothes that she'd been provided with, she had very little.

Stuff had never been a privilege she'd been able to much partake in, but she had usually had some keepsakes. Her favorite she could remember had been a hologram of a glowing star embedded in a block of crystal. Small and really valueless, but pretty.

Someone had stolen it at some point, but maybe she'd find out if she could get another one of those some time.

Having parted from the two, she wondered what their relationship was. Moth-Owls were one of the few aliens she'd ever seen on shows, even if it had been rarely. Usually the males were presented as scheming, honorless connivers, and the females, if they had any personality at all other than alien, were made to look far more human and pretty.

Not that this one - her tablet helpfully noted her name as Lt. Pirra, just the one name - was ugly, per se. Just alien. In the shows they'd seemed just like Different Humans, but in the flesh it was much more obvious how they were not at all human.

Almost no facial movements besides around their eyes. And those eyes, so large that they bordered on creepy.

She felt a pang of guilt; she wasn't meaning to insult anyone, not even in her head. But she couldn't help having a bit of a reaction to something . . . well, literally alien that she had never seen in person before.

After they arrived at the hangar area, she gave her thanks to the man, whose name was Alexander Shaw according to her system, then looked for her hangar.

Her system directed her to a small private shuttle room. Inside, she saw the Captain talking to Urle quietly, outside of a slightly odd, boxy shuttle. It seemed to have been painted on the side to look like a creature of some kind, with eyes and tentacles.

"Hello," she called across the hanger.

Brooks nodded and beckoned her closer, while Urle simply looked her way. Today his eyes were covered under what seemed opaque circular plates, and she wondered if he was seeing in wavelengths beyond the visible spectrum.

Hm, how would a Moth-Owl would look in infrared? The thought was random, but she was suddenly curious. Maybe her system could tell her sometime.

"All right, Zach, I guess we can get going now," Brooks said.

"Is this shuttle . . . okay?" she asked, frowning at the paintwork. It was . . . simplistic.

"Yes, I guarantee that the Magic Crystal Puffer Slug is entirely fit for transit," Urle replied proudly.

"The . . . what?" she asked.

"His girls named it," Brooks said.

"They also painted it," Urle added, gesturing.

"Magic Crystal Puffer Slug, huh? Okay."

Apollonia boarded. The compartment reminded her of a military dropship, modified to be just a little more comfortable.

"Want music while we travel?" Urle asked.

Apollonia wondered if it would be the music his kids listened to. "I think I'm good," she said.

They both strapped in as Urle went down the flight checklist. It went faster than most shuttles she'd been on, and when they launched it was definitely the smoothest she'd ever felt.

"He's good, isn't he?" she asked Brooks.

"He is," the man agreed.

She studied his face a moment. She had heard that there was fallout from the . . . events on MS-29. And she could see the strain on the man's face that revealed it was worse than she'd thought.

"So . . . this official debriefing," she said. "What's the deal?"

Brooks visibly blinked away whatever he'd been thinking. "Michal Denso died, and I was ordered to keep him alive. There's an investigation to make sure that no wrongdoing occurred on my part. Don't worry - you're not in trouble, and I will keep it that way."

She nodded, feeling her stomach tightening a little. She was the reason he was in this mess, at least partially.

Though it had really been Kell, hadn't it? She'd tried to find another way to stop the threat that Denso had presented.

But she'd still hoped to essentially kill him, her conscience reminded herself. Just not do it directly, as Kell had ultimately done.

If killing a being in an alternate-dimensional or higher dimensional or whatever the hell kind of dimensional space it was counted as direct. She didn't think normal words of spatial or temporal relation really worked in this scenario.

"What about you? Will you be in trouble?"

"It's nothing to be concerned about," he said.

He sounded like he meant it, but something was bothering him deeply.

Brooks wasn't exactly cuddly, but she definitely respected the man. He'd followed through on what he said to her, not treated her like a noxious thing only to be kept around for her usefulness. Even if he had made her go see Dr. Logus.

After the events in Denso's room, after Jaya had helped Verena bring Apollonia out, Brooks had arrived.

The doctors had been afraid of them all. They thought she and the others had been contaminated, and it was Brooks who ordered the doctors to help them.

He hadn't been afraid to lift them, carrying Verena.

She'd noted the pain on him then, that Dr. Urle meant something to him. An old wound that, like her injury, would never heal.

But he'd also taken care to check on her, before leaving - to, as she had later learned, take the fury of this mysterious awful Director. The man had wanted to talk to her at length, but Brooks had prevented it, Jaya had told her.

As much as she wanted to ask him what was bothering him, to at least give a sympathetic ear, she didn't know him that well. He kept a distance.

And what could she really do, anyway, except agree that life's unfairnesses really sucked?

The trip over to Plucharon station was mostly quiet, and she wondered just how long they'd be travelling, but then Urle called from the front;

"I'll turn on the screens so you can see this - it's worth seeing!"

The walls turned to a view of space that made it feel like she was just floating in the void. For a moment it made her jump, but it was just the walls themselves turning to screens and showing the outside.

The stars were not the center of attention, though - it had to be Plucharon station itself.

They were approaching the long bridge - which she could now see was actually sections that were connected by massed cables and tunnels, but it was massive. 150 kilometers across, Urle had said? At least at the base. And 20,000 long! It was mind-boggling.

Apollonia twisted to peer out better, hearing Urle speak over the comm.

"Plucharon Control, this is Magic Crystal Puffer Slug . . ."

Whatever else he said was lost in a snort of her laughter. She glanced over to Brooks, and she was glad to see that he was suppressing a smile as well.

"We'll be landing in about ten minutes," Urle called back to them. "They've sent out drones to connect with us and help us slow down, so if you hear a bump or thud, that's perfectly normal."

"Have you ever been to Earth, Captain?" she asked.

He smiled gently. "I'm not Captain right now, Apollonia. You can call me Brooks or Ian, if you like."

"Okay . . . Ian," she said. It sounded weird in her ears. "But have you?"

"Yes," he replied. "I'm from Earth."