Myra sat her projection across from Bee as the girl devoured her meal of spice sausage buns and hash brown scramble. She'd tried to ease Bee into the rest of the tale a little at a time. First, her former life and her relationship with Victor. Not so hard a pill to swallow for Buttercup, it seemed.

Truly didn't believe her at all when she told him years before. He'd said if it could really be done then anyone who could afford to would do it. Myra told him he was exactly right. Many did—and she was far from the first reconstructed consciousness in the system. Shortly after that conversation Truly asked Victor to put him down in cryo when he wasn't needed, just ferry him along inside Wanderlust and wake him for trouble.

Myra guessed she'd rattled him. Coming to terms with what he'd do, maybe, if he had the chance. Another life after his own? Some new kind of existence? He and the Captain had long conversations about it as time wore on, but Truly withdrew from Myra for a while after he found out. He never quite felt comfortable with her presence the same way he did when she was just an artificial intelligence. They worked together as crewmates but Truly kept his distance.

That was why Bee's reaction so delighted Myra. The girl was fascinated. All during breakfast she kept glancing up at the projection.

"Can you pick anything up?" Bee asked.

"Nope." Myra reached out to grab Bee's cup. As she tried to lift it her skin slipped along the length of the cup, unable to grip it between her fingers. "Hardlight can only exert enough force to provide haptic feedback—like when you press a button on one of my screens. Safety reasons."

"Can you feel it?"

"Not in the way you do, but I suppose so. I know where I'm touching it."

Bee shoved her empty plate aside and took Myra's hand in both of her own, inspecting it.

"What happened to you?" she asked, looking into the projection's eyes.

There it was, Myra thought, that connection. Trust. Closeness. It didn't matter that when Bee looked into the hologram's eyes there was nothing really looking back—the illusion of humanity was all Myra needed. Human feedback, more than just the sound of her voice. Only so much could be communicated effectively without a body. Eye contact, body language—every detail mattered.

"We made it safely to one of Ymir's moon bases, on the far side of the planet from the gate. The raiders were on their way and Victor couldn't stand by and do nothing," Myra said. "But he knew anyone who went out after them might not come back. I was no fighter. I stayed with the rest of our passengers on the moon. Victor left with every other war-worthy ship he could convince to join him and intercepted the raiding parties before they got to Ymir."

"But he didn't get them all," Bee guessed.

A sad smile touched Myra's face. "The pirates weren't expecting a preemptive attack. At first things went well. But after Victor's volunteers gained the upper hand some of the pirates made a break for the moon base. If he'd had more ships he might have been able to do it. There were just too many. Without everything he had his little fleet would've crumbled. He couldn't chase the attackers without losing everything."

"He had to choose," Bee whispered.

"It was the only choice besides total defeat. Victor managed a slim victory over the main group of raiders and they sped back to the moon base, but it took hours. With no defenses the base had long since been overrun. We fought to the end with what we had, but it didn't take long for them to... well, they killed all the men."

Bee looked away and swallowed, swiped a tear from her cheek.

"Victor and the rest came back and retook the base. They found me and a few others barely alive, managed to get me stable in a cryo tube. My injuries were fatal, though, given time—they could only delay my death. So that's what he did. Loaded me up on Wanderlust, kept me frozen for the next ten years. That's how long it took him to kill Dreadstar. He knew no one would be safe until then."

"I didn't know that was why he did it," Bee said. "That it was all for you. How did you end up the way you are now?"

"Before Dreadstar came we were wealthy. Victor had his soldier's pay and we made tidy profits from trade. After he brought down Dreadstar he became extremely influential as well. Everything we had went to making me this way. It was a controversial process, outlawed even back in those desperate times. Victor didn't care. He'd seen it done before for others so he made it happen again."

"I guess that's how come you're not on the Record too?"

"Yep," said Myra. "Cleaned it up."

Bee sat back in her seat looking bewildered. "Huh."

"Victor knows you now. He trusts you. That's why I'm telling you all of this—so you realize how much we all have in common."

"Part of the crew," Bee murmured.

#

"If we're extremely lucky we'll hit the right asteroid first," Captain Anson said, gesturing at the projected map of the Luxar system in front of him and Silver. "Only a little lucky and it's the second."

The tumbling asteroid belt Styx took up the majority of the display, most of the rocks smaller than grains of sand at current scale. Like dust they hung there, swirling slow and gentle through space. Wanderlust sailed along into the belt, their course from Optima plotted as a thick white line. Their first destination glowed bright green along with another of its icy brothers near Optima.

"And if we aren't lucky at all?" asked Silver.

"Then we'll go after another one. And if we get nothing there, the next. Myra's got a whole list of candidates for us. I made it clear when I offered you this position how committed I am to this, did I not?"

Silver grunted his agreement but scowled with displeasure at their plotted route. "Three empty rocks means up to a year out there without resupply. That's a long float through hostile territory."

"None of the three is actually any more likely than any other," offered Myra's voice from above. "These are just the three closest to us. There are other possibles scattered across the belt."

"How many?" Silver asked warily. "Total."

"Well, there were a lot of possibilities. After I decoded the map I tried the coordinates, but they specify locations in space from the time the map was created. Cross-referencing available Record data with those locations gave me the names of any asteroids that passed near those coordinates during the time it was reported Dreadstar went into the belt. Bear with me," Myra said, hastening her explanation as Bill became visibly impatient with her long-winded response. "These three stuck out from the rest. They're all D-types like the ones in the comet cloud at the far edge of the system, whereas the rest of Styx is all carbonaceous or metallic. They don't belong here."

"So you're guessing," Bill said, deadpan.

"Well you have to understand—" Myra began again, cut short when Bill wiped a hand down his face and groaned with exasperation. "Yes. More or less."

"Captain," he said, "what exactly do you think our chances are of making it through this without getting into any serious engagements?"

"Depends where Starhawk went after Surface," Anson said. "I'm thinking since he got rid of his hostage he's not interested in dealing with anyone from the Core anymore. He'll stay clear of Optima. Trashed most of his fleet on Surface so if he's planning on heading into the belt after us he's gonna need fresh ships."

"Plenty of Family territory he could find new recruits in," Silver mused, leaning over the projected map. "Donovan, Ocampo, some Lee. Myra, light them up?"

Dozens of asteroids on the inner fringe of the belt near Optima emitted a colored glow as Myra marked each Family's territory—Donovan in blue, Ocampo in yellow, and Lee in red.

"This is just based on recent data," Myra said. "Everything with a grain of salt. They've been shifting around a lot, using temporary outposts for raids."

"Fat lot of good the Core Fleet did," Silver said with a snort. "They've started up again already."

Captain Anson frowned and peered across the map at his quartermaster. "You really think any of them would be willing to join up with Starhawk after how many of his own men he threw at Surface?"

"You mean after he made a suicidal attack on the Core and somehow slipped away to tell the tale? Embarrassed and humiliated the most dominant military force in this system?" Silver gave a firm nod. "They'll flock to him after this, I guarantee it. They respect a bold leader more than anything. We've just seen the tipping point in the balance of power out here. The Families are losing grasp and Starhawk's about to gather up the pieces."

"That's trouble for us if we find nothing but ice on these first two rocks. Those two will only be a month's travel since they're coming our way, but that's still plenty of time for Starhawk to gather another fleet and come after us. The third is deeper into the belt, almost halfway, and downstream—we'll have to turn back the way we came and chase it down. That one could be six months on the float." The map zoomed out as Anson spoke and Myra lit up the third D-type asteroid in green, plotting bright lines between all three. "If we don't get lucky with one of the first two, I can pretty well guarantee Starhawk will find us before we get to the third."

"Why not go for that one first? Put some distance between us and them?"

Anson stared at the pair of glowing asteroids. "Two chances is better than one. Can't just leave them—they're at perihelion right now. We'd have to wait years for another opportunity."

The Quartermaster glowered at the map as he stroked his chin. "I don't like it. We're stretching. Should have been easier than this."

"Not much to like," Anson admitted. "No turning back now, though. We're on the run. Myra, gather the troops. Time to bring everyone up to speed."

#

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