The cruiser stopped many times on the way to Assalin. Each time, part of the passengers would drop off, but new ones would flood in. It felt like the ship was crammed.

Halden hadn’t had the same impression on the other ship. It had been a bigger one, but it also had headed toward the rim. This one was moving closer to the heart of the Imperium. That was bound to make a difference.

Two weeks in, a congregation of priests came on board. People chatted angrily—sometimes fearfully—in their wake. From what he overheard, they were Qevahri missionaries.

“What nerve! How dare they come to taunt us in the heart of the Imperium? Wait until soldiers get a glimpse of them. We’ll see, then, who has the last laugh!”

Halden was at a restaurant. He ate on the terrace, overlooking a flowery garden. The woman was making a fuss as she waved a finger toward the priests who were parading through the alleys below.

Her husband made a face and shook his head.

“They’re just priests, dear. They have nothing to do with the war. It’s like holding civilians responsible for the actions of their government. If anything, these poor fellows are even more innocent.”

The woman wrinkled her nose.

“Their leader is one of them.” Again, she pointed at the priests. “Or haven’t you been paying attention? She’s a religious fanatic. Lock her up, that’s what we should do.”

“They can’t all be like that,” said the man. “I’m sure some disagree with her.”

The wife seemed unconvinced.

Halden didn’t wait to hear the rest of the exchange. He was done with his meal and cared little to find out more about the woman’s feelings.

He stood and walked into the restaurant proper to pay his bill, then stepped out into the vast dome-ceilinged hall.

The whole place was abuzz with talk of the Qevahri. People were outraged they had been allowed to board.

Halden didn’t care either way.

As far as he was concerned, the Qevahri had always been a peaceful people. This had to be a fluke. One woman spinning out of control, taking the entire planet down with her.

Well, considering she was winning so far, ‘down’ might not be the most appropriate term.

He wasn’t worried, though, because it was a localized war and happening so far away. Still, he was curious to see how it would evolve.

As he headed up toward the observation deck, he bumped into someone. He turned to apologize and froze.

“Marcia?”

The woman looked at him and blinked. “No, I’m sorry, you have me confused with someone else.”

The resemblance was uncanny, but he could tell now it wasn’t his ex-wife.

“Oh. You... You look a lot like someone I knew.”

The woman smiled.

“Not bad memories, I hope?”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. His relationship with Marcia had been so complicated. There had been good times, of course—many of them—but so much disappointment and pain as well.

“It’s a mixed bag,” he muttered.

The woman considered him for a moment, hesitated, then held out her hand.

“I’m Vina.”

He shook it.

“Halden.”

“That’s an unusual name.”

“My parents were unusual people.”

She laughed. “I like that.”

He nodded, feeling awkward. “Well,” he said, “I should get going.”

“Oh. Alright.”

He turned and walked away, feeling her gaze upon him. He resisted the urge to look back.

“If you ever want to chat,” he heard her call out, “I’m in 23C56B.”

He went on as if he hadn’t heard her.

He had no room for women in his life.

Not anymore.

They only brought pain.

Why would he put himself through that agony again?

Besides, he had more pressing matters to take care of.

Plans to make.

He lifted his arm and tapped on his wristpad.

23C56B.

With a sigh, he entered the lift that would take him to the observation deck.