“Yes.”
“We have completed our review of Moone’s Landing, station designation Lars-Vector-2.” His soft voice carried across the quiet square. “Our findings are as follows.”
He listed them. One by one. Each and every deficiency afflicting the outpost. Every single defect that made this place she’d come to love lacking. They landed on Holly like individual blows to the gut. She stood very still and absorbed them, one after another, and the square was silent around her.
“Based on our assessment,” Tol’rak continued, “Moone’s Landing fails inspection on multiple points. The deficiencies documented today represent a significant departure from the minimum operational standards required for registered way station status.”
Drell spoke next, his gravelly voice cutting through the quiet. “Effective immediately, Moone’s Landing’s certification as a registered way station is suspended. The station will be removed from standard star charts and navigation systems used by commercial and civilian vessels.”
The words entered Holly’s ears and traveled to her brain through what felt like a long, narrow tunnel. She heard them. She understood them, but they couldn’t sink in. The ramifications were just too large and too catastrophic to process in that moment.
“What does that mean, practically?” she heard Mish ask. “Do we all have to leave?”
“That is up to the station’s owner,” Drell replied. “And if they can self-finance the functioning of this community.” His tone implied that he knew Holly could not.
“Any vessel not already planning to dock at Moone’s Landing will not find it on their navigation systems,” Tol’rak replied. “Existing bookings and scheduled stops will be honored for aperiod of ten days. After that, the station will receive no directed traffic.”
“No income,” Holly said, and her voice sounded like someone else’s.
“That is the practical effect, yes,” Inspector Tol’rak said.
Behind her, the reactions came like a wave.
“That’s not fair.” Harry’s voice, stripped of its usual warmth. “We just held a festival. Peoplecame. They were happy. You can’t erase that because of a few mechanical failures.”
“We perform inspections and issue decisions for the safety of all space travelers,” Drell said, unmoved. “Our findings are based on current conditions, not past events.”
“Current conditions are the result of a cascade of failures that happened within days of each other,” Alyce said, her tone sharp and controlled. “Does that not raise questions about the timing?”
“Our mandate is to assess operational readiness,” Tol’rak replied. “The cause of the failures is outside the scope of this inspection.”
“Outside the scope?” Sam’s voice was low. Dangerous. “You’re shutting us down and you don’t carewhyit happened?”
“We are suspending your certification, Mr…” Tol’rak consulted his pad.
“Sam.”
“Mr. Sam. We are not shutting you down. You may continue to operate. You may apply for reinspection at any time. And you may involve Galactic Enforcement if you have evidence that the damages to this outpost were deliberate acts of sabotage. Thatwouldchange things, but absent an injunction by that body, Moone’s Landing will not appear on standard navigation charts until the deficiencies are addressed and a new review is passed.”
“Thatisshutting us down,” Mish said quietly. “Without travelers, we can’t afford to fix anything. Without fixing things, we can’t pass reinspection. You’re trapping us.”
Tol’rak and Drell exchanged a glance. It was brief, and if there was sympathy in it, it was well hidden.
“We understand the difficulty,” Tol’rak said. “We recommend addressing the most critical deficiencies first and applying for expedited re-review. The process takes approximately eight to twelve months from the date of application.”
Eight to twelve months. Holly felt the number settle on her like dirt on a coffin.
The inspectors inclined their heads in a gesture that was polite and entirely inadequate, and walked back toward the spaceport, followed by their tight cloud of bots. The crowd parted for them without a word.
Holly stood in the square and watched them go. The voices of the residents rose around her, fragments of anger and disbelief and grief, but they reached her as a wall of noise, individual words indistinguishable from one another. Someone touched her arm. Someone said her name. She didn’t turn.
She pulled out her wrist comm and composed a message with numb fingers.
Mr. Binn. Moone’s Landing has failed inspection. Certification suspended. Must discuss the terms for a sale. Please advise on next steps.
She sent it and lowered her arm.
The crowd dispersed slowly. Holly felt hands on her shoulders, heard murmured words of strength and kindness that she couldn’t absorb. Harry lingered, his face stricken, until Mish took his arm and guided him away. Alyce stood beside Holly for a long moment without speaking, then squeezed her hand once, and left. Sam was the last to go. He looked at Holly, and thedefeat she had seen in his face eight days ago was there again, deeper now, and settled.
