Leo looked behind him, back into the hallway, hoping to see someone. Baz, Kat, Boo—anyone who could help him plead his case. He wished his father was here. He would know what to say. All Leo could come up with was, “You’re wrong. It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“No?” Crayt said. “As long as there is scarcity, there is conflict. As long as there is something of value, those with the power will attempt to secure it for their own ends however possible.”

“You mean that,” Leo said, pointing to the chunk of ventasium sitting on the console, radiating in its protective Aykari-designed shell.

“Is there anything more valuable?” Crayt returned.

Yes. Home, Leo wanted to say. Friendship. Family. But he doubted the Aykari, exiled to this planet with only two robots as his constant companions, would agree with him.

“The only difference is that now we . . . they have finally found a way to turn the very thing they are fighting over into the means of fighting itself, which makes it even more precious and powerful than it was before,” Crayt concluded.

Leo’s hands found his pockets again, his fingers brushing up against the stone he’d pulled from Skits’s tread. It had long ago lost whatever heat the sun had granted it. Leo doubted he could really even use it as a weapon, despite Skits’s suggestion. It certainly would do no good against Number Nine’s plating or a Djarik’s armor. No way could it bring down a ship or destroy a planet. It was harmless. Powerless. Useless.

“What if it couldn’t?” Leo wondered to himself, an idea taking shape in his mind.

His eyes met the Aykari’s, caught the flash of curiosity there.

“What if it wasn’t powerful?” Leo continued. “Ventasium, I mean. You say this weapon destabilizes it, unleashes all of its potential energy. But what if there was no energy to unleash? What if that whole process could be reversed somehow? Permanently, I mean.” Leo removed the stone from his pocket, rubbing his thumb along one smooth face. “What if it was just another rock?”

“If that were the case, neither you nor I would even be here, light-years from planets we once called home,” the Aykari said.

And would that really be so bad? Leo wondered.

The rock felt heavy in his hand. He and the Aykari stared at each other for a moment longer. Crayt bowed his head, then sat straight up again, squaring his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Leo Fender. As I said before, this is no longer my concern. If the Aykari and Djarik wish to destroy each other, so be it. I will keep my distance and live out my remaining days here, in peace. I suggest you find someplace where you can do the same.”

Crayt swiveled in his chair and ejected the datachip, holding it out for Leo the way Leo had held it for him.

Leo refused to take it. “No. You keep it,” he said, his exhaustion trumping his exasperation. “My father wanted you to have it.” He glanced down at his worn Coalition boots, the magnetic clasps frayed, toes scuffed, the soles worn thin. He’d only been issued them three months ago and already they looked like they’d been through hell. Unfortunately, they were the only ones he had. “You’re wrong, by the way,” he added. “War is not inevitable. It’s not the universe’s ‘natural state’ or whatever. I know it seems like it sometimes, but it’s not. It can’t be. We make it that way. It’s a choice, just like you said.”