In Anara’s cabin a mini sun burned. It bathed a collection of crystal bones in its stunning light. The bed had been pushed into one corner. Tools, gear, and weapon holsters were laid out on the top sheet. The furniture had all been stacked up next to it. A weapon rack sat against one wall. At the moment, it only held a few pieces.

Her current body was tall, crude, headless and lacking any characteristics identifying gender. It sported a pair of large arms with long- fingered hands, which were for carrying large objects or holding them while a pair of smaller arms with more dexterous hands worked on them. The skeleton was a basic design that most of her species had in their home, something that was functional and could charge while they were away or sleeping.

The lights were off, as she didn’t need them. The only illumination was the little false sun. Its light rolled along her waxy body as she moved.

Pulses constantly returned to her. The room around her was felt as much as seen.

The plain white surface of the walls. They were made of carbon steel, painted with an oil-based paint. If she chose to focus on it, she could make out the bumps of the splotches. And there was the warmth and hardness of the wooden trim. Again, she could focus on it, tracing the grooves.

The soft material of the sheets. The wooden furniture, along with the chemicals used to stain it. The light that bathed the crystals. She could perceive all of it, all at once.

She took a completed Lyriin crystal out of the machine and hung it so that it was touched by the light. Then she added more of the white powder and started the machine up again.

This was done with an air of reverence. Afterall, the first Bhanu that had learned to shape the crystals were revered, both in their own times and in the present. She was one of those that saw no real difference between their simple carving tools and the advanced 3D printers of the modern age.

The bones ranged greatly in shape and size. It was good to have lots of options. Flexibility was, after all, a key component in military operations. And this certainly was one. The very act of traveling across the universes was dangerous. On top of that, they had a militarized organization pursuing them.

In one corner, there was a large crystal. Its shape was natural, resembling those that dotted the surface of her home world. This was the one that she used to sleep.

These preparations were necessary. But she knew that it was really only a distraction. It kept her from thinking about home.

***

Savaa sat on the bed in his quarters. It struck him how plain it felt, like a better furnished version of his cell. Two thoughts occurred to him. One: he should appreciate the fact that he wasn’t in his old cell. Two: when he got settled down, he’d decorate his room. Then another thought, another worry, he’d likely never be able to settle down.

Perhaps he’d be able to get far enough away from Kastel that he’d be able to stop running, butthat would be a long time away.

He realized that he’d never be able to fully relax. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’d always be aware of the fact that he was being hunted, for they would always hunt him. No matter how many failed, there would always be another who was ambitious or zealous enough to try it. In this way, they would always have a hold on him. He could never be completely free from them.

This lit a little fire in his heart. He knew that it could be fueled, enlarged, but never fully quenched. A little flame of hate would always smolder. They had taken too much for him, done too much to him. If he wasn’t careful, this fire could completely engulf him. And that would mean that they had finally beaten him.

This was where it started to get bad. Too much freedom, too much time to think. The mind wandered. He would put a stop to it before it could hurt him too much.

But what could he focus on? Thinking about the direction that his life could now take only seemed to make him think about the life that had been stolen from him.

What could he do to distract himself from it all? And again, his mind returned to his captivity and stolen childhood. He had nothing. While others had hobbies and interests that they had developed over the years, he only had pain.

What had life been like before they came and took him? The memories came back sluggishly, fighting him all the way.

There was Savaa, the real Savaa. It had been a good alias to pick, as it was unisex and very common among his people.

Savaa had been his best friend, the one who had screamed and cried when they took him. What had happened to him? Had they punished him for daring to associate with the reincarnated dictator? It probably didn’t matter to them that he couldn’t have known. Had he been allowed to grow up, and if so, what kind of man had he become?

Everyone else had obediently denounced him. But when the parade of betrayals had come to an end, his good friend had been absent. Of course, he wouldn’t have been allowed to be there to support him. What truly mattered was that he hadn’t come their to testify against him.

That was when he realized that he had let it happen again. The old pain had sucked him back in, robbing him of more time, causing more suffering.

No, no more.

He got up and went out into the corridor. He would find things to enjoy. He would rebuild his life, if for no other reason, as an act of defiance.