Days passed with Xaleyp alone in the cell. With no windows, it was hard to judge time. Every now and then, he was brought food and water. Not enough to sate his hunger. Instead, it just made him more ravenous as the scraps disappeared.

They at least unbound him after throwing him in. He used some of the time to get whatever exercise his malnourished muscles allowed. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all stone bricks. He had time to count each of them, not that there were a lot. A dilapidated, dirty bed was in one corner and a tarnished metal pot for relieving himself in the other.

The one bright side was that they hadn’t take his father’s pendant. What time he didn’t devote to pacing around the room or exercising was spent holding it between two fingers. His family was never religious, but he couldn’t help but mutter a few prayers to the necklace. He didn’t know to which god he spoke, but none seemed to answer.

Maybe it was because no god did exist. If his dream was to be believed, Ciovyr wasn’t a god after all. Lina was dead, and Mian was dead, both because of the Arcadians. No, Ciovyr was definitely not a god. No god would work with people who killed so ruthlessly and recklessly. Even if it took him to his dying breath, he would make sure the Arcadians paid for their mistakes.

What did his vision of the forest mean? The girl there had been the one who told him Ciovyr wasn’t a god. How did she know? Who was she? Was she even real? He couldn’t think of anyone he’d met before that looked like her.

Finally, after a couple dozen meals or so, the rigid schedule he followed was interrupted. The door to the hallway outside his cell opened with a clang. Heavy footsteps grew steadily louder before coming to a stop just outside his door. Xaleyp could distinguish two different steps instead of the usual one.

“Prisoner zero zero six, face the far wall with your hands behind your head.”

The command he was used to. He had to do it every time to get fed. The guard would wait a few seconds then slide the food in through a slat near the bottom. What was unusual was that the voice to issue it was different. It was always the same blunt guard to bring his meals to him. This one was softer, almost relaxing.

After several seconds of waiting to ensure he complied with the order, the whole door creaked open rather than the slat. The light from the hall lit up the wall, which brought a momentary pause of confusion from Xaleyp. A shadow moved over his own, the first he’d seen in days.

“Xaleyp Vah’Aris,” the voice said, “it is an honor to finally meet you. Please, turn around slowly.”

He did so, bringing his hands down at the same time, and looked to see who it was. Standing in front of him was a rather thin but muscular man just slightly taller than himself. His brown hair was parted to one side, slicked back and smooth. A thin beard covered his cheeks. He wore a purple vest with a white, silk shirt underneath and black pants. The man’s eyes were mostly obscured by shadow, but they pierced into him like a snake’s fangs. Under his right arm was a datapad. At his left side was an empty pistol holster. Behind him was the usual guard.

“Who are you?” Xaleyp didn’t realize how dry his throat had been until he tried to say the words. His voice was hoarser than ever before. He licked his lips to try to add some moisture to them. “What do you want with me?”

“Well, I assume that Emperor Delargivic has told you of the prisoner exchange. Mind if I have a seat?” The man sat on the filthy bed before Xaleyp could answer. He didn’t seem perturbed by the dust and other particles that jumped into the air around him. “I am here to take you back to Siatia with me.”

“Who are you?” Xaleyp repeated. He tried to resist the urge to cough with the words. Siatia. So Tober hadn’t been lying at least. He knew nothing about the place, but anywhere had to be better than here.

“I am known on Siatia as the Director, and you can call me by that title.” He held out a container of some sort of liquid. “At least, until we get to know each other better. Please, drink.”

Xaleyp took a cautious step forward. The guard outside the door subconsciously reached for his rifle. Xaleyp’s hand shook as he took the container and removed the lid. He put it up to his lips and let it splash experimentally against his lips. For all he knew, this man could be trying to poison him.

It was the most heavenly water he had ever tasted. Whether it was because of the little amount the guards gave him in the prison or if it was just perfect, he would never know. Regardless, he quickly swilled the rest of it, some dribbling down his cheeks and chin to drip onto the floor.

“Isn’t that better?” The Director smiled, and Xaleyp could now see the green slits for eyes. Like jagged cut emeralds. Like a serpent. “Now, I have arranged for transit from here to the nearest spaceport. Our transport is awaiting us there.”

Xaleyp nodded. The idea of going with this man he knew nothing about to a place he didn’t even know existed until a few days before was frightening. In the jail, he at least knew he would survive to the next day. At least, until Tober decided to just kill him and be done with it. This man had traded Arcadian prisoners for him. Not to mention in the few moments they knew each other, he showed Xaleyp more kindness than the guards did in a week. It was a show of good faith.

The Director stood and led the way out the door. He stopped at the guard standing outside.

“Is there any paperwork I need to sign?” He made a signing gesture on the datapad under his arm. “Or are we able to just walk out?”

“Just get out of our sight.”

“Very well. Come along, Xaleyp.”

They walked down the hallway together as the guard moved to lock the cell door. There were several other doors on either side. Most seemed empty, but a brief scurrying came out of one of them. An incomprehensible voice whispered something neither of them understood before silence took hold once more.

“We have lots to discuss on our way back, Xaleyp. I just want to let you know now, honesty is the best policy. We don’t care what you did or why. We just want to know the truth. Alright?”

Xaleyp nodded again. His throat was still somewhat dry. He didn’t want to risk his words coming out as croaks.

A lift at the end of the hallway shot them to the surface, coming out at the top much faster than Xaleyp expected. When the door opened, it revealed the interior of the ArcDefense lobby. His mouth fell open, and he stared around.

“I was in—” Xaleyp started before the Director interrupted him.

“Not here, Xaleyp,” the man whispered. He grabbed Xaleyp’s arm and guided him out the door. “I promise, I’ll answer all of your questions and more once we’re on our way to Siatia. Here’s not the place for this conversation.”

There was a crowd of people moving through the checkpoint. Instead of just walking through, each individual was being briefly searched by the same black security guard with another burly man. Apparently they were on high alert from the explosion. Xaleyp and the Director were able to walk straight past with just a sideways glance from them as they walked out.

On the street, the sun above blinded him. After spending the last few days in darkness, it was a welcome, albeit uncomfortable sight. He used his hand to shade his eyes and looked around. The sidewalks were filled with walking people. Above them flew a variety of different cars and freighters. There was more activity than Xaleyp had ever seen here. The type of activity that he would expect for the capital of a planet.

A sleek car was waiting on the side of the street. The Director led the way to it and tapped the side. It slid open, revealing a plain interior. He gestured to Xaleyp.

“Please, sit down.” He smiled. “I wouldn’t be a very good escort if I didn’t let you in first.”

Xaleyp hesitated for a moment. This was crazy. A man appears out of nowhere, gets him out of prison for no reason, and he was just going to travel to a random planet with him? A week ago he would’ve laughed in the man’s face. Now? Now, there was no one else there for him. Mian and Lina were both gone. Seth would’ve counted him for dead already. The worst this man could do was kill him, which the Arcadians would do themselves anyway. What did he have to lose?

He climbed in and sat at the far side. The fabric was luxurious and molded to the shape of his body. In front of him was a table with another container like the one the Director gave him. A sudden dryness hit his lips at the sight of the container, and he barely resisted the urge to reach for it. The man must have seen the look as he got in himself. He grabbed it and handed it to Xaleyp.

“Go ahead and drink. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Xaleyp drank from it, downing half of it again. He couldn’t get enough of the delicious liquid, but he wanted to make sure he didn’t waste it.

When the door closed, the car whirred to life by its own accord, taking off and joining the traffic above. It zoomed past and around other cars, going much faster than was necessary in the city. Unnecessary, at least, if you weren’t an enemy in that city. Within minutes, they were landing at the spaceport. The car flew directly into the large building passing an assortment of different space vehicles. Xaleyp couldn’t decide which direction he was supposed to be looking, trying to take in as much as possible. Starfighters, cargo ships, transports, small frigates and cruisers, and everything in between. Some polished, others bore scars of battles or crashes they were in, yet more that seemed to be held together by well placed pieces of rope. Groups of people stood outside a few of them in admiration.

“Which one is yours?” Xaleyp asked. His voice was like that of a child in a virtual reality store. He tried to crane his neck in every direction to see if he would be able to spot it, though he was not entirely sure what he was supposed to be looking for.

“Oh, yes, I did read in your file that the you’re quite the accomplished pilot.” The Director shifted in his seat to get a better look out the windshield. He pointed ahead of them. “Our transport is at the far end. They refused entry to our actual vessel. It’s called the Starkiller, and it’s one of the strongest carriers in our fleet.”

Xaleyp followed his finger to look out the windshield. In the very last row on one side was a cargo vessel. On the other was a transport almost identical to the one he and Seth had taken to Arcadia. The biggest difference was the fact that it was a handsome white rather than the black he had previously seen. It was also emblazoned with a green star on the side.

The car came to a stop next to it, landing on the smooth metal ground. As the car shut down, the door, along with that of the transport, slid open. The Director quickly stepped out and helped Xaleyp into the transport.

“We don’t want to linger too long.” The Director glanced around the spaceport. “I really don’t trust Emperor Delargivic to not renege on our arrangement.”

The pilot inside didn’t say a word. As soon as they were in, before they even had a chance to sit, the engines ignited and the transport began to take off. It sped along the row of other ships towards the opening the car flew in. A blast of air followed in the transport’s wake, knocking some of the crews off balance. It shot into the air and spiraled upwards, streaking towards the atmosphere. They were quickly in space and streaking towards the vessel.

It was large—far larger than Xaleyp had expected, about two kilometers from front to back and a quarter as wide and tall—and elongated, narrowing towards the back before flaring out to accommodate more engines. The underside was dotted with around two dozen circular engines for landing and takeoff, and the back had another dozen rectangular ones for propulsion. Along the sides, Xaleyp saw the barrels of dozens of batteries sitting idle.

The ride over to the Starkiller was smooth enough. None of the Arcadian ships fired on their transport, which was good enough news. The exterior of the top of the ship was smooth, broken up only by more missile batteries and a collection of different sensors and arrays. A small landing strip led to the hangar after a short lift ride down into the carrier. Dotted around the area were dozens of different ships surrounded by catwalks and technicians. Bright lights overhead penetrated into even the darkest corners, bathing the room in the iridescent glow. A heavyset pair of doors were situated at the far side, firmly shut. As they came to a stop, a pair of the workers walked over and waited for pilot outside.

The Director was up first and led Xaleyp out into the hangar past groups of talking pilots and technicians towards a door at the side. It hissed open and a man in a black suit walked in. His hair was styled the same as the Director’s, identical to the last strand but a deep shade of black rather than brown.

“The Arcadian ships are breaking formation and coming towards us,” the man said. “Estimates show they’ll be upon us before we can reach hyperspace.”

“I knew their Emperor couldn’t be trusted.” The Director’s lips curled. “Xaleyp, this is Agent Pollard. He will lead you to one of our interview rooms. Wait for me there. I need to handle this.”

The Director walked through the open door and went down one side hallway while the agent led Xaleyp straight ahead. They passed a few technicians and other crew members on their way, none of whom said anything or even looked at the pair. At the end of the hallway was a lift, which opened at their approach.

“Deck Seventeen,” Agent Pollard said.

A chime pierced the air as the repulsors whined to life. The lift went down into the floor and came to a rest after a few moments. They walked through a series of twisting corridors before finally coming to a rest as Pollard gestured to the door.

“Right in here. The Director will be with you as soon as he can.” He pressed a series of buttons on the keypad and the door hissed open. “Make yourself at home.”

Xaleyp stepped inside, and the door closed and locked behind him. It was a rather plain interior with only a metal table and two chairs. A mirror ran the length of one wall starting at chest height and rising to the ceiling. Three circular lights were built into the ceiling to cast their glow to each corner of the room.

He sat in the chair facing the mirror, watching himself. There was dirt covering his face. A cut ran across his cheek with a small amount of blood dribbling out. His hair was completely disheveled. The clothes he wore were mostly in tatters. He looked like something out of a horror stream. Why hadn’t the Director said anything about it?

Who even was the Director? What did he want with Xaleyp? Why him? They could’ve picked anyone they wanted. What was so special about him? Why go through all the trouble of exchanging prisoners for just him, especially when Arcadia wants him dead?

The ship shifted, and Xaleyp placed his his hand out to grab the table. As if on cue, the door chimed and hissed open. The Director walked in, the datapad still in his hand. The holster at his side was now carrying a large pistol. He sat in the chair across from Xaleyp, turning on the screen.

“Crisis averted. We’re in hyperspace and safely on our way to Siatia.”

“Good.” Xaleyp was surprised to discover that he meant it. “The sooner I’m away from Arcadia, the better.”

“Now, Xaleyp,” he started, “I would just like to remind you that we don’t care about anything you have or have not done. We just want the complete truth from you, okay?”

Xaleyp nodded. His lips were dry again, and he resisted the urge to lick them. Where was that extraordinary water when he needed it?

“First, I want you to tell me about the vision you had when you were younger.”