But all conversation came to an end as Leox and Affie stopped their group at the edge of the cockpit. “And this here,” Leox said with a grin, “is our ship’s navigator, Geode.”

Standing in one corner of the cockpit was a rock.

About as tall as and slightly wider than Reath himself, dark gray, with rounded edges and a flinty, flaky surface. Impressive, as rocks went. But still, it was just a rock, wasn’t it? Reath frowned, sure this was some kind of weird joke.

“He’s a Vintian, from Vint.” Leox lazily wrapped an arm around the rock’s “shoulders,” just like anyone would with a friend. “Geode’s a nickname, by the way. Turns out you can’t pronounce his name correctly unless you don’t have a mouth.”

Reath tried to parse that, and failed. His main consolation was that Dez and Master Cohmac looked as confused as he felt. Orla Jareni, however, wore another of her knowing grins.

“Geode, huh?” she said. “Pleased to know you.”

Affie briefly patted Geode’s side. “He’s a little shy at first, but just wait until he gets to know you.”

Leox cackled as he began leading them from the cockpit into the ship. “Yeah, you just wait. But I don’t want to give you fellas the wrong idea. Geode’s a wild man, for sure, but when it comes to steering the ship, he’s all business.”

“Solid, you might say.” Orla raised an eyebrow. “Very well. Let’s get a look at our bunks.”

“Well, we sort of have to create your bunks before you can see them,” Affie admitted. “Might as well get started.”

Great, Reath thought as he turned to follow the others. Not only am I headed to the back end of the galaxy, but the job of getting us through hyperspace belongs to a rock.

Sometimes the Force had a sense of humor.

Within the half hour, their temporary quarters had all been built and assigned, and both passengers and crew had strapped in for takeoff. From where Reath sat, he could just glimpse the cockpit window, framed by control panels on one side and the outline of Geode (still motionless) in what must have been the navigator’s position. He had to crane his neck for that look, but it was worth it. This was the last time he would see Coruscant for many months, maybe a year; Reath refused to consider the possibility of his assignment lasting any longer than that.

Home, he thought. The word pierced him like an arrow. The Jedi were not taught to think of their temples as home, nor the planets where they’d been born. Yet the longing for a home was something that no sentient being could ever completely be free of. Reath didn’t want to be free of it. He wanted to remember Coruscant just like this—glittering, prosperous, ascendant.