After eating with his team, Peter wandered through the ship. It brought back memories. He’d been on board a few times after Val and Nim had found the Corvair in that wreckyard. Never for very long, though, as he had been busy growing his rebellion.

It was not so much that Val disapproved, but she preferred more subtle and isolated forms of protest.

He went by the hold and paused. His sister had told him about the red box they’d found hidden in there. With a not-so-dormant AI.

Curious, he went in and looked around.

The compartment was still open, so it was easy to spot.

He walked up to it and knelt in front of the box.

“Well hello there. What’s your name, little one?”

The box did not answer.

Nor did it blink.

It really felt dormant.

“Sneaky fellow, aren’t you?”

He sighed as he stood and walked off.

After finding an empty cabin, he lay down to rest for a while.

A few hours later, he went back out and found Mrill in the training room. She sat on the floor, legs crossed and eyes closed.

He worried about startling her, then realized she would know he was there even if he didn’t make a sound.

“Meditating?” he asked.

“My people call it karviq,” she replied without opening her eyes. “It is a process.”

“A process for what?”

“There are two forms of karviq. One is done before battle, the other after. It helps to relax and prepare for what is to come, or to wind-down after it has come.”

“Ah.” He fell quiet for a moment, watching her. “You know, I think that’s the most I’ve heard you talk since we met.” A pause. “No, actually, that’s not true. That first day, when you made your point, showing Kesh, Nuri, Praeg, and Ivi what you could do, you said a lot more then.”

“It was necessary.”

“Yes, I suppose it was.”

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He smiled as he walked up to her and sat by her side.

“We haven’t had a chance to talk much since we left that Gnorlian ship. You sensed no treachery regarding the asteroid, but do you think we can trust the archmaster? I mean, in the long run?”

Her eyes flickered open and she looked at him.

“No.”

He sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“He believes in your cause.”

Peter blinked. “He does? Then why—”

“He is a creature of politics. Necessity leads his hand.”

He pondered this for a moment as she went back to meditating—or whatever it was she was doing.

“So what you mean is that if it ever became more convenient for him to give us up, he would, even if it destroyed the cause he believes in?”

“Not for him. For his people.”

“I see.” Another pause. “You know, you remind me of someone I once knew. She was very quiet and also had special abilities.”

“What happened to her?”

Peter frowned. “I don’t know. She saved my life, but then we were separated. I had hoped to find her on Pluvios, but she was not there when—”

The ship’s speakers crackled, and Val’s voice resonated in the room.

“Everybody! Wakey-wakey! We have a situation. Everyone meet me in the landing bay. And yes, Peter, that means you too!”

Peter chuckled as he glanced at his wristpad.

“Still two hours to go. Odd.” He stood and headed for the door. “Okay then, let’s go see what this is about.”

Mrill unfurled, jumped to her feet, and followed him swiftly.

When they reached the bay, many of the rebels were already there. Some were rubbing sleepy eyes or yawning.

Peter looked around and spotted Val as she came running into the large room.

“What’s up?” he asked.

She ran past him, straight toward a panel on the wall.

“You’ll see in a minute. This is wild.”

He quirked a brow as he followed her.

“Care to explain?”

“There’s something out there,” she said distractedly.

She tapped on the panel, and it lit up.

“Something?” Peter frowned. “What kind of something?”

“Not the kind that might shoot at us, don’t worry.” She looked up at the ceiling. “Okay, Nim. All ready at my end. Are we set?”

“Almost.” The room went quiet as everyone looked toward the bay door when it started to slide open. “We should make contact in 5... 4...”

Peter’s eyes went wide when he saw the cylindrical object coming toward the bay.

“3...”

It spun around slowly and a glass section appeared, revealing a man’s sleeping face.

“2...”

There was a glass wall in the middle of the bay that kept the air from being sucked out of the ship. Through it, they could all see the object slowly drifting closer and closer.

“1...”

Until it finally slipped through the opening. It floated there for a moment, going down until it finally touched the ground and stopped.

“Contact.”

The only sound in the following minutes came from the bay door closing and air being pumped on the other side of the glass wall.

Then the wall slid open and they all slowly gathered around the pod.

“What is it?” asked Lartha.

“Who is it would be a more relevant question,” said Kesh.

“How do we open it?” asked Peter.

He slid his hand across the smooth black surface, as did Val and a few others. It was cold as ice.

They all pulled back when they heard a click.

Then the top of the pod swung slowly open.

Inside was the body of a man.

A human.

He looked to be in his forties.

With black hair and a thick black beard. He wore some sort of uniform—though one none of them recognized. Blue and white with a rectangle insignia filled with stars and stripes—itself red, blue, and white.

Peter and Val stepped forward.

“He is awake,” said Mrill blandly.

Even as she spoke, the man’s eyes flickered open.

There was a wildness in them, and there was dread.

And then, he shouted—his voice hoarse from disuse.

“They’re coming!”