“More humans are on their way right now,” Torian replied. “Amelia is coming, remember?”
“Is her crew staying here?” Celise asked.
That was an excellent question, and one Torian couldn’t answer. In her heart, she hoped so—but at the very least, Amelia would likely do some supply runs once they assessed the station and identified a construction list. “I guess we’ll see.”
Celise didn’t argue further. Maybe there was something comforting about having a clinic here. Something familiar.
It was far too late to stop Dutch’s haphazard renovations now, anyway.
Nasra watched this exchange with sparkling eyes, murmuring absently to the hive. In the break, she raised her hand. It was averyhuman gesture, strange from a tou’siil—until Torian remembered they’d collected Nasra from Rhymarra’s university.
“Something to say?” Torian asked, amused.
“Always.” Nasra grinned. “We’re under the impression that Vaesa will be boisterous and lively and wonderful once the revitalization is complete. I highly doubt we’ll have trouble filling this space station, given the overcrowding on some of humanity’s colonies.”
Torian hesitated. “Probably not. I’m sure Celise has a list of folks she’d like to bring—our old neighbors and the like—but it’ll probably depend on what trades we need to fix up these townhomes, farm the towers in the middle ring, and generally make sure this place is functioning.”
Nasra nodded agreement. “Exactly. And if we reach that point, I’m already hearing word that other alien species might be interested in visiting.”
Visiting alien dignitaries. Humans moving into safer homes. Finally, a truly galactic endeavor. She’d spent decades fearing draics, standing in awe of tou’siil. If she’d met them earlier, she probably would be a better individual.
This vision of Vaesa felt both huge and suddenly possible, and excitement flared in her chest. “Yes! That’s exactly what I was hoping for.” Then she hesitated, glancing dubiously at Dutch. “Is… is that okay, do you think?”
Dutch sat on one of the beds, testing the mattress’s bounciness. Nylarian mattresses were higher off the floor than most human beds, but he fit comfortably.
“My dear, I hardly have a claim on this station anymore.” Dutch’s gaze grew distant as he inspected the colorful art on the walls, the pottery along a few shelves, the hanging tassels that separated the eating area from the living space. “Vaesa was never meant to sit empty. My people would have wanted it filled with life—especially by folks who actually need it.”
“That won’t be difficult,” Celise said. “I do have a list; six or seven families who’d benefit from this kind of place,andhave skills to help restore it.”
Dutch gestured, as if to prove his point.
They went upstairs next, where a simple set of bedrooms anda water closet made way for the staircase to the rooftop patio. The patio had a magnificent view of Kerracia, the kerrac tree, as well as a set of couches, some chairs, and a small table.
This looked as good a place as any to relax. Torian dropped to the table, pleased when Celise and Nasra followed suit. After a brief discussion with Dutch, Zen flew down to the pantry to retrieve some food: an unknown fish from a pond near the kerrac tree that Dutch promised was digestible by humans, and a salad made from the farming towers by the forest.
While they ate, Torian told Nasra, “Heyyy. We finally got to have dinner together.”
“One of many, I hope!” The tou’siil’s eyes were flat now, perhaps out of courtesy as they ate. She’d seemed thrilled about the option of fish, but now she picked at her food. Dutch and Celise had descended into conversation on one of the couches. Zen had left again, temporarily, to brief his crew. Nasra watched it all impassively.
“Is everything okay?” Torian asked, her brows furrowing.
Nasra blurted, “Maybe. Kind of. I have a confession.”
“Uh-oh,” Torian said good-naturedly, although she put down her tong-like fork and faced the tou’siil properly.
Nasra’s webbed ears pulled closer to her skull. Torian hadn’t even realized that Nasra could move her ears that way, but it closed Nasra’s body language, like she was embarrassed. Her words were quiet, meant for Torian only. “Just because I’m a tou’siil, humans think I’m an authority, but… I’m actually abrand-newemissary. This solar system is my first assignment, and it’s only because no one else wanted it.”
Torian blinked, sorting through that. The way Nasra was talking, she’d have thought the tou’siil was confessing to a murder.I’m new at my jobfelt laughable in comparison, but it was clearly bothering Nasra, so Torian kept her tone empathetic.
“That’s okay. We all start somewhere.” Torian hesitated, then asked, “Tou’siil have visited our solar system before. Why didn’t they want this assignment now?”
“It’sbecausewe’ve explored this area before. The galaxy is an interconnected place—and humanity’s lack of collaboration makes them distinctly less interesting to my people now that we’ve seen what’s here.” Nasra took a bite, seemingly didn’t chew, but swallowed her fish without issue. “There was a discussion about whether we should waste future emissaries here at all, but somehow, I convinced them that the nylarian influence was worth exploring.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Torian was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Nasra hesitated. “Yes. Except to get this job, I promised them a massive influx ofnewknowledge about humanity and this system. We only have a limited number of emissaries, remember. If my hive stream drops in popularity, they can recall me and send someone else to a better location.”
“Let me guess. Your stream is wildly popular.” Sarcasm dripped from Torian’s words.
