Chapter Sixteen
Setting a Course for the Unknown**
The S.S. Cosmic Clover drifted in soft idling orbit around Mistwell Outpost, wrapped in the gentle glow of the dust?blue nebula beyond. The station’s refueling arms had retracted, their lights dimming with the same weary sigh that seemed woven into every old hauler dock in the galaxy.
Kael leaned back in the captain’s chair, watching the fuel readout stabilize.
He didn’t feel ready.
He also didn’t feel like ready mattered anymore.
The Clover’s hull hummed a gentle, rhythmic pulse — that same pulse he’d felt with his hand against the metal the night before. Like a quiet heartbeat. Like a memory.
Kessa strode onto the bridge, a steaming mug of tea in each hand. “Fuel topped. Air refreshed. Robot bee bribed with attention. Jessica headed back to her ship to finish repairs. We’re good to go.”
Kael accepted his mug. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Kessa said, sliding into her chair. “Because I’m about to ask the question.”
Kael closed his eyes for a breath. Then opened them.
“Yeah,” he said. “Ask.”
Kessa took a soft breath. “Are we doing this? Really doing this?”
Kael stared at the navigation display — the ghost of the Little Bright coordinates still hovering faintly in his mind’s eye.
The thing is… it felt strange to move toward something so deliberately. Their life had been contracts, stations, new friends, old stories, chaos and comfort.
This felt like stepping into the story beneath the story.
He swallowed. “Yes,” he said quietly. “We’re doing this.”
Kessa’s grin was slow and genuine. “Good.”
Preparing the Clover
The ship responded the moment Kael entered the coordinates manually.
A low hum deepened through the deckplates — not alarm, not malfunction. More like recognition. As though the Clover had been waiting for this moment.
Kessa felt it too. “She’s excited.”
“Ships don’t get excited.”
“She’s thrilled, Kael.”
The little robot bee hopped onto the console, blinking its golden eyes. “Bzzt?go?”
Kael sighed. “Even the bee is excited.”
Kessa leaned back contentedly. “Majority vote.”
Kael groaned.
He adjusted the route, bypassing a minor jump-lane cluster they’d planned to use. The new path was strange — a scatter-shot series of micro-lane fragments and soft-lane drifts, barely used, half-charted.
Not dangerous. Just… quiet. Forgotten.
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Exactly where a person would hide a small star with a large secret.
Kessa traced one lane with her fingertip. “No one flies this region anymore.”
Kael nodded. “Which is probably why Jorin picked it.”
“Think Jessica knows more than she said?”
“Definitely.”
“Think we’ll get answers?”
Kael hesitated. “I think we’ll get something.”
Kessa smiled softly. “That’s enough.”
A Gift in the Galley
Halfway through prep, the smell of something sweet drifted toward the bridge.
Kael frowned. “Are you… baking?”
“No,” Kessa said automatically.
“Kessa.”
“…Maybe.”
Kael sighed and followed the scent to the galley.
Jessica was there.
Arms crossed. Neon jacket glowing gently in the ship lights. A muffin tray cooling on the counter.
Kael blinked. “Jessica?”
She smiled. “Did you think I’d leave without saying goodbye?”
“You already said goodbye.”
“Haulers get two goodbyes. Minimum.” She nodded at the muffins. “These are for the journey. Best advice I ever got from Jorin? Never face a mystery on an empty stomach.”
Kael leaned against the counter, arms folding slowly. “Jessica… why do I feel like you know more than you’re telling me?”
Jessica didn’t look at him — she was watching the muffins with a thoughtful softness.
“Because,” she said quietly, “Jorin wasn’t just a hauler. He was a keeper of things. Small things. True things. Not all of them belonged to him.”
Kael’s breath caught.
Jessica looked at him finally. “And not all of them should be found alone.”
Kael went still. “Are you coming with us?”
She smiled — sad and bright all at once. “Not yet. The Joy needs me. And you…” She reached out and straightened the collar of his jacket the way Jorin used to do. “…need to take the first steps without someone holding your hand.”
Kael swallowed. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
Jessica’s smile widened. “I know. That’s why you’re ready.”
Kessa crashed into the galley with the robot bee in tow. “Jessica! Are you staying—”
Jessica held up a finger. “Two goodbyes, remember?”
Kessa’s face fell for a breath, then brightened. “Visit us later?”
“Try and stop me.”
Departure
Jessica walked them back to the airlock.
Kessa hugged her hard enough to pop armor plating. “Don’t crash.”
“Don’t poke anything mysterious,” Jessica countered.
“No promises.”
Jessica turned to Kael. “You good?”
Kael nodded. “Nervous.”
“Good,” she said. “Means you’re awake.”
She ruffled his hair — an indignity he endured only from her — then stepped back into the airlock’s threshold.
“You two follow the stars,” she said softly. “Even the tiny ones.”
The doors slid closed.
Kael stood there a long moment, staring at the empty space she’d occupied.
Kessa bumped his shoulder. “Ready, Captain?”
He inhaled deeply.
Exhaled slowly.
“Ready.”
Toward the Beacon
The bridge lights dimmed to jump mode.
Kael settled his hands on the controls. Kessa strapped in beside him. The robot bee perched proudly between them.
The Clover hummed louder — excited, hopeful, familiar.
“Setting course,” Kael said.
Kessa grinned. “Punch it.”
He did.
Stars stretched. Light folded. The Clover slipped into hyperspace like she’d been waiting all along.
And in the quiet blue swirl of the jump, far ahead — almost too faint to notice —
a single pulse shimmered.
A small star. Waiting for them.
Little Bright.
