“No, that reaction was exactly right. I’m sorry for what I said. And how I said it.” Amelia shoved her hands into her jacket’s pockets, avoiding Torian’s gaze.
“You did warn me,” Torian replied. “Over and over, the entiretime I was on your ship, you told me Rhymarra wouldn’t solve my problems.”
Amelia laughed sadly. “Yes. But I should have told youwhyI knew they wouldn’t help. I was just… embarrassed. Things didn’t end amicably between me and Rhymarra—and I thought if I was loud enough or waited long enough to deter you, you’d save yourself a trip.”
“You underestimated me,” Torian joked.
Amelia glanced at her now, her expression unreadable. “I always do, apparently.”
Torian’s cheeks warmed, and she cleared her throat, glancing away.
They’d reached the end of the hallway, and Amelia tugged out a lockpicking set. Apparently, this area was too poor for digital locks—or maybe they just preferred old-fashioned security on Colony 4.
Amelia worked the door’s lock, and a breath later, aclicksounded. She pushed open the door and unveiled an empty observation area. It was clearly long-abandoned, but a tattered mattress had been squished in the corner, and torn cloth had been pinned to the walls, staked with old rebar like a makeshift tent.
Someone lived here, once.
Amelia gestured inside.
Torian stepped into the small room. It had floor-to-ceiling windows offering unobstructed views of space, and the stars drifted gently past as the station spun. But Torian barely looked at the view, instead drawn toward the tent in the corner.
Positioned beside the tent were dented metal pots filled with dry soil and the desiccated husks of plants long dead. A blue blanket with leaf embroidery had been neatly folded at the corner of the bed. Someone—Amelia?—had snapped a picture of Rhymarra from space—but it was secondhand, the pixelated, recorded image of a hologram from inside a human starship. She’d printed the image on real paper and taped it to a spot of honor. It now hung lopsided.
Abandoned. Undisturbed.
Torian faced Amelia, who had closed the door behind her and stopped, apparently unwilling to truly enter. Her gaze was haunted as she looked past Torian at the mattress, the little makeshift sleeping area.
“Did you live here?” Torian whispered. It must have been years ago—Amelia had been with the Fleet longer than Torian.
It was amazing no one had found this place to pilfer anything… but then again, Colony 4 folk were busy with their multitude of holidays. Their crime rates were probably much lower than on Colony 13.
Clearly, no one had found this place, and Torian was almost glad for it.
Amelia rubbed one arm. “I didn’t fail my exams, if that’s what you’re thinking. You know that Rhymarra’s population is carefully monitored. They could only allow a certain number of us to stay on-planet.” She looked to the ceiling, her eyes shining in the dim light. “One of the boys testing in my class was the son of a governor.Myparents were farmers. They swapped our results.”
Torian wondered how she knew—but then again, Rhymarra did share exam results with their students. Amelia would have done practice tests beforehand. Even Torian could get a close range of what her scores would have been.
If Amelia’s results were drastically lower… and a classmate who typically underperformed was able to stay… yeah. That would make sense.
Indignation burned in Torian’s body, making her heart pound, her vision narrow. She clenched her fists. “That’s wrong.”
“Yep.” A wry smile crossed Amelia’s lips. “I filed a protest, but they ordered me on a ship before it could be processed. I was dumped here. I barely got to say goodbye.”
“Are your parents still—”
“Alive? As far as I know. I used to write them, but… well, it’s not like they have a return address.”
Torian suddenly wondered if Amelia’s parents wanted to writeher back, or if they were ashamed that she’d “failed”—but that would open up conversations she wasn’t sure Amelia was ready to have.
Instead, Torian knelt beside the mattress, absently running her fingers over the blue blanket. Torian had told Headmaster Nuun how unfair this was, and now the broken system Rhymarra had created was sitting two feet away. They dropped exiled Rhymarrans on the colony stations. There wasn’t an introduction—it was more of a forced relocation, and there weren’t many resources to start fresh.
For a world pretending to be the apex of humanity, Torian could see this cruelty for what it was. Maybe Dutch was right, and people like Headmaster Nuun weren’t whatanyoneshould aspire toward.
Amelia finally stepped farther into the room, dropping to the wall adjacent to the mattress. She was close to Torian, very close, and Torian’s breath stuttered at the proximity. But Amelia just picked up the blanket, tracing a leaf stitched in green thread.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you, Torian,” she said quietly. “It’s not an excuse, but—”
“You needed armor to survive.” Torian offered a sad smile.
