Interlude — Three Stars, One Clover

  Kael, Kessa, and Jessica aboard the S.S. Cosmic Clover

  The S.S. Cosmic Clover wasn’t a large ship — cozy, lived?in, all warm lighting and mismatched paneling — but tonight she felt especially full.

  Jessica Star leaned back in the Clover’s galley chair, boots propped on a storage crate, sipping tea Kessa insisted was “therapeutic and absolutely necessary to human survival.” The little robot bee rested on her knee, wings humming like a sleepy cat.

  Across from her, Kael was buried in inspection logs, brow furrowed in that very specific way he got when he pretended everything was fine and absolutely wasn’t.

  Kessa noticed it before Jessica did.

  She thunked her mug down on the table. “Alright, Kael. Un-scrunch your face.”

  Jessica raised an amused eyebrow. “Scrunch?”

  “That’s his thinking face,” Kessa said. “Capital T. Capital F.”

  Kael didn’t look up. “My face is not scrunched.”

  Jessica squinted at him. “Honey, your face is practically accordion-ing.”

  Kael groaned. “Please don’t encourage her.”

  Kessa leaned across the table. “Too late. I’ve been encouraged since birth.”

  The ship hummed warmly around them — a soft, comforting vibration Jessica swore was the Clover saying, Yes, tease him. He needs it.

  Jessica took a long sip of tea. “So. Captain Serious. Want to tell the group why you’ve been staring at hull data for twenty minutes like it insulted you personally?”

  “It didn’t insult me,” Kael said, closing the log. “It’s just… that ghost marker.”

  Kessa sobered. “Little Bright?”

  Kael nodded.

  Jessica set her mug down gently. “You want to talk about it?”

  Kael hesitated. He had always been careful with his feelings — the kind who held everything tight until it either made him stronger or quietly crushed him.

  Kessa nudged his arm. “Come on. Speak your heart, Captain Clam.”

  Kael shot her a look. “It’s Kael.”

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  Jessica grinned. “You do clam up, though.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched — a rare, reluctant smile.

  “Fine,” he said. “I just… don’t know if we’re ready.”

  Jessica leaned forward. “For what?”

  Kael searched for the words. “The beacon. Whatever Jorin hid there. Whatever he didn’t tell us. What if we go, and it changes everything I thought I understood about him? About what he wanted for us?”

  Kessa’s voice softened. “Kael…”

  Jessica’s expression was gentle, patient. “You think he left something dangerous?”

  “No.” Kael rubbed his thumbs together. “Just important.”

  Jessica nodded slowly. “Then you’re already halfway ready. Scared means you care.”

  Kessa snapped her fingers. “Yes! That! Scared is the brain’s way of saying ‘this matters.’”

  Kael sighed, sinking into his seat. “I just don’t want to let him down.”

  Jessica reached across the table, tapping the edge of his datapad — not demanding, not prying, just grounding.

  “Kael Hartley,” she said softly, “the only way you could disappoint that man is if you stopped loving the people he loved. And from what I can see…” She gestured at Kessa, who tried to strike a majestic pose and knocked over her tea. “…you’re not in danger of that.”

  Kessa mopped up the spill with a grin. “See? We’re thriving.”

  Jessica snorted. “Debatable. But adorable.”

  Kael rubbed his eyes, a small laugh breaking through. “You two are impossible.”

  “Correct,” Jessica said cheerfully.

  The robot bee buzzed in agreement.

  A Shared Memory

  Kessa suddenly perked up. “Hey — Jessica. Do you remember when Jorin tried to teach us knot-tying on Vael Station?”

  Jessica burst into laughter immediately. “Oh NO. Don’t bring that up.”

  Kael blinked. “Why? What happened?”

  Jessica wiped her eyes. “Your sister tied Jorin’s bootlaces to the cargo net.”

  Kessa shrugged proudly. “He said, ‘Secure your anchor.’ So. I secured.”

  Kael groaned. “And?”

  “Oh,” Jessica said, leaning back with a wicked smile, “he tripped so hard he nearly punched a dent in the floor. And he still said, ‘Good initiative.’”

  Kessa pumped a fist. “I WAS A PRODIGY.”

  Kael buried his face in his hands. “He was too soft on you.”

  Jessica chuckled. “Maybe. Or maybe he knew you two needed different kinds of guidance.”

  That quieted both twins for a moment.

  Kessa’s gaze drifted to the humming hull. “You think we’re following the right path?”

  Jessica smiled. Not teasing. Not playful.

  Soft. Steady. True.

  “Stars above, yes,” she said. “Because you’re following it together.”

  Kael let out a long breath — the kind that lifted a weight from the room.

  Kessa nudged her brother with a grin. “See? We’ve got this.”

  “We’ve got this,” Jessica echoed, raising her mug.

  Kael picked up his own. “Alright. To… whatever comes next.”

  The mugs clinked.

  The Clover hummed warmly, her lights softening as though she approved.

  And in that small galley, with muffins on the counter, a robot bee blinking sleepily, and three hearts aligned in a single quiet moment…

  …it felt like they were exactly where they needed to be.