Freya was the most monumental creation ever devised by Man. Over two kilometers long she could blast a medium-sized moon into rubble. She and her sister ships Thor and Tyr had been the crowning achievement of Earth when they were launched, so long ago.

She now stood alone, her siblings long gone, and Freya no longer bore the clean lines of her youth. Her hull was scarred and pitted, the marks of hasty repairs giving her a dowdy and rundown appearance. Worse, even in her heyday she’d been no match for the other navies; beside a Tu’udh’hizh’ak battlecruiser, she looked like one of its runabouts. In a straight up fight against almost any other species, she wouldn’t last long.

But if there was any place in the universe that could still be called the hub of human civilization...it was here.

It had been years since she’d set foot on the old girl, and Maggie approached the reunion with a sense of excitement and trepidation. With Rendezvous almost upon them the ship would be packed to the gills, and there were bound to be those who would know her on sight, more than happy to bow and scrape to the great lady Maggie Al-Hajjah. Her face twisted in a grimace as she imagined those unwanted encounters. Maybe she could cover her face or something.

As a Tinker, however, she had to admire what she represented. Maybe she wasn’t as pretty as she had been. So what? She bore her wounds with pride, determined to carry on...and if that didn’t symbolize post-Diaspora mankind, she didn’t know what did. And perhaps...she needed this homecoming, on some level. She’d stayed away from her own kind for decades, unwilling to succumb to their demands of how they felt she should behave.

Maybe it was time to make peace with the past, as best she could.

A familiar presence appeared at her side, as she found Diggs staring up at her with disquiet in his eyes. The kid could read a room like nobody’s business...a skill she suspected he picked up on the streets...and it was certain he sensed she was on edge. “It’s okay kid,” she smiled, gripping his shoulder. “Just old memories, is all.” He didn’t look convinced, but he relaxed a bit as she ruffled his hair. It had become a signal of sorts between them, that things would be all right, even if sometimes it felt like a lie.

“Time to go,” she told him, as the pair stepped into the crowded corridor. The Knights had already transferred over after giving the pair a final checkup and pronouncing them healed, with promises to meet up during the festivities, while Kai and Rúna were busy working out a rotation for Fiddler’s crew. They’d been less committal, but Maggie knew the boy had developed a crush on the juggling redhead. Not that she blamed him; the corporal was a looker, in a robust sort of way, and she was certain she’d let the kid down as gently as possible.

Taking his hand they worked their way through the rat’s maze, as the sound of excited Valkyries pounded their eardrums. Rendezvous was a time of revelry, of remembrance, and of community, though some, like the young men and women jostling around them, focused on the first.

Well, so had she, at their age.

Stepping into the bay they were using to transfer the mercenaries over to Freya, it surprised her to see they had their own send-off committee. Zubin LaCroix and some other Tinkers were waiting for them as the pair stepped out of the line.

“You didn’t need to come say goodbye, though it’s appreciated,” Maggie smiled, gripping his hand.

“Actually, I did,” the engineer replied. “I have something for you.” Moving aside he revealed a toolkit...one that looked familiar. “A Tinker is defined by their tools, and after what happened we all chipped in to replace what the To’uuk stole from you.” He wheeled it forward, presenting it to her. “And we repaired the box and reinforced it...in case you ever need to use it for a fulcrum again.”

Her eyes clouded as she reached out to touch the precious gift, kneeling to open the lid. The tools inside were mismatched, taken from a dozen or more different kits, but each one was top quality. Losing her kit had left her feeling hollow...for a Tinker without their tools was no Tinker at all. She’d had Diggs to distract her, and circumstances had kept her mind on other matters, but it was as if she’d lost a limb. After a while, your toolkit became part of your identity, and she hadn’t wanted to admit how she’d felt less than whole.

Emotion filled her throat while she struggled to croak out, “...thank you,” as tears threatened to betray her.

The other Tinkers knew what she was going through and allowed her the dignity she needed. “And we haven’t forgotten our young hero,” he chuckled, taking a knee before a surprised Diggs, as he produced a small combination wrench attached to a blue ribbon, draping it around his neck. “For saving Maggie’s life,” she said softly. The boy held the tool in amazement, gazing at it like a talisman, before turning to her and silently asking permission to keep it.

“It’s yours kid,” she told him, her voice still husky. “Lord knows you earned it.”

He turned it over and over, fascinated by the gift, until he looked back at Fiddler’s Chief. The boy thought hard for a moment, and then in a gesture that made her laugh spit on his hand and stuck it out to the engineer.

Zubin grinned, spitting on his own and clasping palms with him. “You’re welcome here anytime, Diggs,” he told him, before standing up. “And if you ever need a sponsor...call me.”

Maggie placed a hand on the engineer’s arm. “Thank you,” she said once more, as she extended the toolkit’s handle and popped the wheels. “We’ll look for you during the celebration.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Zubin smiled. “Until then.”

She gave them a wave as she took Diggs by the hand and pulled her new kit along with the other, rejoining the line and filing through the airlock connecting Fiddler to Freya.

After all these years it was easy to forget how big she was, as they entered the compartment. Everything was on a more massive scale, hence the reason it had long been home to the largest Rendezvous celebrations to be found anywhere in human space. And in case anyone was unsure of their location, plastered in huge letters resembling ancient runes across the bulkhead was the name CCFS FREYA, but that wasn’t what held their attention, for beneath the title was an image of the old goddess herself. Her blonde hair hung down in braids, while they’d clad the rest of her in blue-steel battle armor. Her right hand gripped a spear, her eyes seeming to follow wherever you went, saying, “I guard all who live here, and I’m watching you.”

Diggs gaped at the painting until she tugged him along searching for the Clan markings that would guide her to the Tinker’s suite on board. All the various Clans had places to congregate during Rendezvous; to catch up with family and old friends, to conduct business, and to make plans for the coming year. The Clan chiefs themselves also met during this time to coordinate between the various factions. Even when they were at odds, they set aside those conflicts during the holiday, for despite their disagreements there were all that was left of humanity. There was a line they dare not cross, even if they occasionally edged near it.

Maggie spotted the Atom-in-Gear symbol of the Tinker Clan, pointing it out to Diggs, as they followed the arrow leading to where they were quartered. It took some time, as she’d suspected they filled the ship beyond capacity and moving anywhere took a great deal of navigation and jostling for position. Her young charge soon proved adept at slipping in and out of the throng, bobbing and weaving through the mob in a way that left her envious.

They arrived at the entrance to the Tinker suite, waiting in line yet again to check in and find some place to bed down less crowded than their shared compartment on Fiddler. One by one those in line ahead of them had their palm print scanned as the clerk searched for lodgings. Based on their reactions, it looked like the pickings were slim. Well...they still had their hammocks, if worse came to worst.

After what seemed like a small eternity they reached the head of the queue, while the balding man behind the desk barely glanced at her. “Place your hand on the scanner and state your name...and don’t expect much,” he warned. “We’re booked solid.”

“The name’s Maggie,” she told him, though she ignored the scanner. “This here is Diggs...don’t bother looking, he ain’t in the system. What have you got still open?”

“...nothing,” he said in a tired voice, “just like I told the last fifty people. Now if you don’t mind, hand on the scanner please.”

She was about to fire back a hot retort when a thought occurred to her. She’d avoided the scanner since she knew when they checked her prints the whole damn Clan would start treating her like long-lost royalty...but maybe under the circumstances she could make it work for her, for a change. With a resigned sigh, Maggie did as he asked her, watching the clerk’s face as the data appeared on his screen. The moment his eyes widened in surprise she leaned in and spoke just loud enough for him to hear.

“I’d like to keep this between us, understand?” she said with a knowing grin. He nodded; his voice having not quite caught up to him yet. “So...can you do anything for us now?” Part of her hated trading on her status like this, especially since she’d gone to such great lengths over the years to avoid it...but dammit, her feet hurt, and she had a kid to look after. Sometimes you had to compromise your principles to get by.

The man nodded once more, typing. Moments later her minicomp pinged as it received new information. “We were holding a space for any last minute...never mind,” he said in a rush, shaking his head. “I’ve sent you directions and coded the biometric reader to accept your print,” he explained. “I just want to say...it’s an honor to meet you,” he blushed.

Ah, what the hell, she thought. He seemed decent enough. “Hey, I’m just regular folks,” she smiled, holding out her hand and shaking with him as he stared at her, awestruck. “Think you could code my young friend’s print too?”

“Oh...certainly,” he nodded, eager to help, as he peered down at Diggs. “Just place your hand on the scanner, please.”

It seemed Diggs had been paying close attention, as he did as he asked him without prompting. It took less than a minute to scan him as well and add it to the access roster. “There you go, all set,” he said, before taking a deep breath and asking, “If I may...what’s it like?”

She knew what he wanted to hear. He was no different than Prash and Joona, or a thousand others before him. They all wanted to know from the one who’d seen it for herself what the homeworld was like...and they all wanted to believe in the fairy tale. The truth would crush him, and she wasn’t in the mood to break his heart.

“...like nothing you can imagine,” she shrugged, giving the clerk a wave as she and Diggs headed off to find their room.

The room he had assigned them wasn’t much bigger than the compartment they’d berthed in on Fiddler, but this one they didn’t have to share. Better still, it had an actual bed, with linen and everything. Maggie was sorely tempted to just peel down, crawl under the covers, and not move for a week, but one look in Diggs eyes told her that plan wasn’t going to fly. He wanted to explore, and she couldn’t blame him. A ship like this for someone his age screamed adventure, so she dumped off her new toolkit and took him in search of the mess hall. The day before Rendezvous’ official start the food would be bland, as they’d be saving all the good stuff for the celebration. Making do with a simple porridge and fortified shake, they went off in search of the sights.

Even a ship the size of Freya consisted mostly of corridors and compartments, each looking a great deal like the next. They’d reserved the larger spaces for the festivities and roped off, so she headed for the Observation Deck. Most human ships were metal tubes, without view ports, but they had built the old battleship in Earth orbit with technologies that were no longer available. It would be crowded...it always was...but she knew he’d appreciate the view.

Working their way through the crowd, they squeezed into a spot in front of the massive bay window. She recalled the transparent material was several meters thick, made of some specialized polymer they were no longer capable of producing, able to withstand a direct hit from an errant chunk of rock or piece of shrapnel. A massive blue-white star blazed in the distance, and Diggs pressed his nose against the glass, staring at the celestial object in awe.

“Wonder where we are?” she wondered aloud, pulling up the data on her minicomp. She hadn’t thought to ask earlier, though it was tradition to seek an out-of-the-way port for the celebration, generally an uninhabited system. The answer popped up immediately. “Hmm…Beta Canis Majoris,” she mused. She didn’t recognize the name, unless it was inhabited there were just too many to remember. “Also known as Al-Murzim, ‘The Herald’, in the old tongue.” There was a string of alien names behind it, but she didn’t look at those. Who gave a shit what the Limiodria called it?

She glanced down to find the boy wasn’t listening. Maggie shrugged and put away the minicomp, focusing on the view as he was. Spending his life planetside meant he’ never seen a sight like this, and it was obvious it fascinated him. It was an impressive sight, she had to admit, and part of her wondered when she’d lost the innocence that allowed him to just watch a ball of plasma in awe.

The answer came to her...the same voyage where she’d lost everything else.

She stroked his hair as he watched the star...dreading what would happen if she ever found his people.