HARE: Please. This action is unnecessary.

Taban: Oh. Sorry.

Daley (turning back to his screens): Well, whatever. Ask it what planet that is.

Taban: HARE, identify the closest planet and provide its ISF designation.

HARE (processors whirring): . . .

Daley: What did it say?

Taban: It’s thinking.

HARE: Planet unidentified. Not listed in ISF databanks.

Daley: What?

Taban: I told you. If our ship’s nav-sys didn’t recognize it, an ancient HARE wasn’t going to.

Daley: It must be malfunctioning—just like the nav.

Taban: It’s not. It can’t be. It just got turned on for the first time. How could it already be malfunctioning?

Daley: You know. Radiation and shit . . . screws these things up.

Taban: Daley, getting lost screws these things up.

Daley: We’re not lost.

Taban: You went the complete opposite way we were supposed to go! Of course we’re lost!

Daley: Just because you—

Taban: I saw you go off-course weeks ago. You said you were cutting across Luxue to avoid the checkpoints, but—

Daley: Look, I go through this sector all the time. Relax. I know what I’m doing. And I did exactly what the nav told me to do.

Taban: The nav you just said was broken? And you go through this sector all the time, my ass. We’re in the dark butthole of space out here. What is that? (pointing at white planet)

Daley: I don’t know. But you need to calm down.

Taban: Calm down, sure.

Daley: I know you’re a rookie, but you really need to nerve up for shit like this. It’s not a big deal, okay? All we have to do is land, fix up the FTL, turn back around, and fly home. Got it?

Taban: Land where? On that?

Daley: Where else are we going to land? You want to try the asteroids again?

Taban: But that’s a foreign planet.

Daley: So?

Taban: So we don’t know anything about that place. Even the ISF doesn’t, apparently—and isn’t there some sort of law against landing on unsettled planets?

Daley: Planet, asteroid, moon, what does it matter? And I’m not gonna tell. Are you gonna tell?

Taban: And shouldn’t we be fixing the comm system before we think about fixing the FTL engine?

Daley: Fuck no. The FTL engine is what lets us fly back.

Taban: But we need the comm system to contact ISF if we need help.

Daley: But we’re not gonna need help if you fix the FTL and we fly home.

Taban: But—

Daley: Taban, man. Come on. Let’s nut up a little here, huh?

Taban: Okay. Fine. Whatever.

Daley: Okay. Good.

Taban (rubbing his eyes): . . .

Daley (steering): . . .

Taban: HARE, analyze that planet.

HARE: What would you like to know?

Taban: Anything you can tell us. Weather conditions, atmosphere composition, whether there’s enough radiation on the surface to toast our marshmallows . . .

HARE (processors whirring): . . .