We're free of the planet's gravity. We drift in weightless momentarily, adjusting to space as we gear up for the next leg of the journey. I sense the pull of our ARC10's artificial gravity grab hold, settling us back into our seats. In the meantime, I open a PIM window. Its discreet bubble appears on my palm as I tap in a quick message.

I LOVE YOU

***DELIVERY FAILED ERROR MESSAGE 3302-1***


Everyone else unbuckles. "Commander Lorn," Birgar says spinning in his seat to face me. "I'd like that tour of facilities now. Specialist Coodi offered her assistance in the matter, but I prefer to hear the details from the horse's mouth, if you don't mind the reference." He chuckles to himself.

I don't get it, but I don't relay that fact. Years of bartending molded the tools I need to work with all personality types—including this one. "Absolutely." 

I won't forget that he snubbed Coodi.

We march through the corridors at a brisk pace. I stop to introduce him to various spaces and VIPERs as we move through the ship, giving him the grand tour of his new home of gray metal and strange, orange ooze. "And here," I usher him into the Nest after a jostling ride up the lift with Coodi, Flatts, Grant, and Norbit surrounding us, "is where the magic happens." 

Birgar saunters over to the typical place where Coodi and I have been standing sentry every morning. He looks out over the marketplace and frowns. "They're identical."

"Pardon?"

"The marketplaces. Yours, mine, the URE's—they're all the same. From the color of each individual canopy all the way to the sharp angles of each dividing line." He leans forward to look at the ones below us. "All exactly the same."

"Nothing is more comfortable than commerce," I quote.

He continues his vigil over the marketplace as I approach. "The people of ARC10 are calm."

That was the last observation I expected him to make. Curious, I stand at his side and peer into the masses. 

He's correct. The civilians mill about the marketplace, calmly conversing, handling goods, leaning against booths, strolling around as though this is all one, big, normal day. It's bizarre how calm they are. Too bizarre. I try to brush off the sudden chills. 

"Yes. They are calm. But they're actually a pretty twitchy group."

"It's similar on ARC9.  Restless, bunch of whiners. Always shuffling around with nowhere to go." He's looking at me with genuine concern now. "Have you noticed this behavior before?"

I don't know how to answer his prying.  What is he seeing that I'm not? "The people are calm because we keep them safe," I explain as if to a child. He should know the rules by now. "The VIPERs work endlessly to protect them. I watch from this window every day to make sure they're fine."

"I don't question that you do, Lorn. But take a look. The way they're moving—it's unnatural. It's unnerving."

Coodi steps up behind me. "I can assure you, Commander Birgar. The people are fine. They're finally content. They've finally found peace." Despite the fact that this is now one of her superiors, she stands firm behind her words.

"Peace?" He scoffs through tight lips. "They're hundreds of lightyears away from their home planet, Specialist. They've been separated from their families, shot off into space and told they had no choice in the matter. These people are never going to feel 'at peace'."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Coodi stiffen and wilt.

Birgar leans away from the window. "Your thoughts are so pure you could wipe your ass with them, but what good are they to those people down there? They should be terrified out of their piss-ant minds, and you think they've found peace?"

His words are flat, as if there is absolutely no possible way another reality could be found around them. Coodi steps back, falling into line with Grant.

This douche. Thinks he can come aboard my ship and tear down my VIPERs?

"Birgar," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "Have you ever met a Xani?"

"That slimeball and gears thing you ticked off in the harbor back on Earth?" He rests his knuckles against his hips. "Yeah, I recall seeing one of those things."

"No. You've seen the Xani, but have you ever met one face-to-face? Have you ever been so close, your ear hairs get nicked off by its spinning blades?"

He seems to be trying to evaluate if I'm pulling him into some kind of trap or not. "Commander Lorn, I've just arrived on this pile of shit. You've been with me every second I've touched the decks of this fuck-all vessel. Of course I haven't met the Xani—but I'm eager to—"

"You will not meet the Xani, Birgar. Because you don't want to meet them." My voice flattens as I enunciate each poisonous word. "The Xani don't want to meet you. They stay in their part of the ship and we stay in ours. Their forms are so hideous, they'll burn like acid into your retinas so hard, you'll piss yourself from the strain of forgetting. I don't recommend you meet the Xani. Ever."

Flatts hides her snort of laughter in a cough.

His attention returns to the window. But I'm not done.

"Do not disrespect my VIPERs. This unit has done more to risk their lives for these people more than we could have ever expected. They have met the Xani. And it was fucking magnificent that they are still alive to remember it."

He pulls out a self-lighting cigarette form his breast pocket and puts it between his lips. Puffs of gray smoke feather out around his head. "The people are not at peace. Whatever the point was of your little tangent still doesn't address the bigger concern. Your people are not at peace." 

I've had it with this asshole. "If you're done, I can show you your quarters."

"That'd be great."

"And Birgar," I face him and pull the cigarette from his lips, snapping it in two, the little wires spitting sparks at me as I throw it over my shoulder. "No smoking in my fucking Nest."

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