At some point, reading and re-reading the log data from when I had first come aboard, I had come to a realization.

See, to the knights, and anyone watching from Mara, we would simply have vanished with hardly a ripple.  Space as we knew it soaked up energy easily, bent with it, dispersed it, transformed it, et cetera.

We, on the other hand, were Elsewhere.  Space as we didn’t know it.  If space were fabric, then we had just punched through a particularly bunched up section with a dull needle, and while the material itself was largely unharmed, a loud pop echoed outward: tremendous potential energy released by the force of our leap in the form of a great thunderclap of gravity that would swell and spread before it dispersed.  With us at the epicenter.

The field the drive used to propel us normally shielded us from any forces outside its ‘bubble,’ but this was on a magnitude far beyond normal, and some of it leaked through.

For starters, starboard became floorboard.  Then gradually, over some hours, the pull shifted astern and began fading.

I counted us lucky to have avoided the worst of it.  We were able to move around the ship for things we needed, though it was an awkward and involved process.  I sat in silence for a long time.  Every so often, Stella would bring me a bite to eat or lay a hand on my back in assurance.  That night, we unstrapped our bunk pads and slept on a wall.  By the next we were back to zipping ourselves into bed.

We fell back into our rhythms.  After all, what else could we do at this point?

Our narrow escape from Mara hung over me like a cracked beam.  I was no stranger to close calls, of course, but I suppose I felt responsible for this one.  And I was unsure what reception I would find waiting at home after vanishing for, oh, how long from their perspective…  Several months?  Longer?

But home was still several weeks away, so it did me no good to let it eat at me.  Instead, I buried myself in engine diagnostics and distractions.

It was while I was poring over a datapad one day that Stella walked right up and grabbed me by the ear.

“Weaver Cleary, you’ve hardly said two words in a row to me all week!  You’re my best friend in the galaxy and I’m done sitting by while you wallow.”

In short order I was sat down on a couch next to her.

“Best friend?” I asked.

“Less depressing than ‘only friend,’ and I for one think you’re good company.  At least when you’re not hiding under a rock and worrying yourself to death.  You’re not alone; you can talk to me about these things.”

I didn't say anything for a while.  Stella just stayed put.

"I've been with the Kingfisher for so long, and never left, and even between voyages we were at home in Sanctuary together.  I was a shut-in, sure, but—"  I gasped a breath.  My chest ached, and I felt like I couldn't take in any oxygen.  "I've been away so long, and they probably think I'm dead, and—"

And what?  Everything in my head was a blur.  Stella sat quietly beside me, elbows rested on her knees.

“Even my stupid engine tricks are coming back to bite us,” I added.  I could tell I needed to break down a little, I could feel that pressure built up in my chest and behind my eyes.  It didn’t go anywhere.

Next thing I knew, Stella was hugging me?  It was… calming.  I felt safe.

“So, homesick and guilty?  Those are tough.  But you know, Weaver, you’ve done nothing wrong.  Unless pulling our feet out of the fire all the time is a bad thing now.  You did what you could with what we had.  That’s supposed to be your thing, isn’t it?  And here we are, alive to try again.

“And I wouldn’t worry about what’s waiting for you at home.  You talk about your crew like family; they’ll be glad to see you home safe.”

Somehow she always read me like a book.  I felt a little better, though, despite a few stray sniffles.

“You’re way too good at that.”

“Better than using my powers for evil, right?”

“Aw, but evil is so much fun,” I said, trying to put on a pout.  We shared a laugh.

After that, I started trying to remind myself to change pace, and not to ignore my shipmate.  And it actually did help keep me out of the same loop.  And it was also just nice to embrace the companionship.  It felt odd to admit, but Stella had managed to find her way into best friend territory for me too, even though we’d only known each other a matter of weeks.

At some point, the puzzle Stella had posed to me back at Mara crept into my idle thoughts.  She had made it a challenge, knowing I would take the bait.  I couldn’t just let go of figuring it out anymore.

So I started to consider it all in earnest:  What was the question to ask that would convince her to tell me what it was she had declared ‘girls only?’  Why would the reasoning behind her assumption that I was a woman be privileged information to begin with?  Something to do with her own change?  Maybe I was making some faulty assumptions.

Square one:  How do you convince a club to share secrets with you?

Simplest answer:  Join the club.

But I couldn’t just join the girls’ club.  Could I?  Stella had.  New questions:  Did I want to?  Did she think I wanted to?  Was she right?  ...Maybe.  A little.  Okay, actually, it sounded amazing.  And apparently it was possible.  Stella was living proof.

How did she know for herself?

How did she know?

"How did you know?"

"How did I know what, Weaver?"

"Well, I've been thinking about that girls-only secret."

"And?"

"And what if I wanted to, um, join the club?"

Suddenly Stella was all smiles.  She was beaming.

"Then you already have.  That's all it takes."

"So—Wait, really?"

She nodded affirmatively.  I noticed I had been playing with my hair, twirling a lock around my finger.

"So how did you know before me?”  I may have been genuinely pouting.

“When I first met you I didn’t know, but you did give off a certain impression.  Then you introduced yourself by title instead of name, and I perhaps leapt to conclusions.  But then there just kept being more signs!  When you confronted my mistake, you danced around outright denying anything.  You’ve been so eager to get in on the big secret.  Your face lights up when I call you Weaver…”

It sounded so obvious when she laid it all out like that.

“My apologies for the teasing, by the way.  I didn’t want to push too hard and scare you away from the idea.  And you happen to react adorably.  I’m guessing you have a lot of questions?”

She guessed right.  How did I know for sure?  What did womanhood feel like?  Was I actually cute already?

“How did you, um—”

“How did I transition to look like this?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“My medical pod is modified so it can adjust your body’s hormones, and accelerate the natural changes a little.  Interested?”

Interested in being Miss Weaver Cleary and looking the part?

“Of course!”