Leon climbed into the co-pilot seat. Captain Arylav was already in the pilot seat, pulling away from the SS Belmont, a freighter now burning and crumbling apart as it entered the atmosphere of an uncharted desert world. Pieces of the ship were peeling off and burning bright.

“My ship…” Arylav said.

“We saved the diplomats. They can stop the coming war. They’re all that matters now,” Leon said. His father came up behind him and rested a hand on Leon’s shoulder. The man looked nearly identical to his son, older, wiser, more kilometers on the odometer, but clearly of the same make and model.

“I lost a lot of crew members on that ship,” Arylav said.

“We can only hope their loss was enough,” Leon said. As he said it, he saw T...

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