“No,” Reath said, which seemed untrue, given that he had severely bloodshot eyes and a stripe of sunburn along his forehead. But he was upright, moving and talking, so a radiation scan could wait until later. Affie looked like she was in shock, understandably enough. The Mizi had gone back to his own people. Nan seemed completely unaffected, though she wore a saddened expression, probably out of consideration for the feelings of those who’d known Dez longer. That little thing’s sturdier than she looks, Orla decided. I wonder what she’s seen out here.

“So nobody needs medical attention,” she said. “Okay. Here’s what I need you all to do. Reath, Affie, clean yourselves up and rest for a few minutes. Nan, if you’d be good enough to explain this to the other refugees, it would be appreciated—and don’t worry, that bastard with the red scarf is long gone.” Nan brightened, then realized her smile was inappropriate and squelched it. “And take these flowers back where they belong, would you? The Aytees are hovering around the edge of the airlock. The last thing we need is an invasion.”

“I got that,” said Leox, who had been standing quietly at the edge of the group. He carefully took a small planter from Affie, who didn’t look up at him once.

“There are no good words to say,” Orla began. “We lost a good man and a great Jedi. We’ll have to search for answers about what happened, and soon. First we owe him, and ourselves, a little while to reflect on who Dez Rydan was, and to acknowledge his oneness with the Force.”

The group broke up awkwardly, shuffling in various directions in silence. Orla put her head in one hand just long enough to take a few breaths.

She couldn’t allow herself the same time to reflect she’d granted Cohmac and Reath. Not when she had to figure out what to do with the idols.

Affie took a quick shower in the Vessel’s tiny head, waving the wand all over. The process had become strange, as if her body were now foreign to her. It seemed to live in another galaxy entirely, one she no longer inhabited and could only watch from a great, silent distance.

Afterward she knotted her long dark brown hair back into a braid and put on a fresh coverall. Normally this made her feel better, regardless of how she’d felt to begin with. Instead her fingers kept finding the embroidery of the Byne Guild crest, tugging at the threads, but they never came loose.

When she emerged from the head, Leox stood in the hallway, waiting. “It’s free,” she said dully.

“Not my immediate concern. I’m more worried about you. Looks like you got run over by a stampede of gundarks.”

“I went on a routine search and somebody died,” she snapped. “Am I supposed to throw a party?”