“Oh, don’t even go there.” She shook her head and began to walk back to the cabin. “It’s hard enough for our most loyal citizens, born and bred here to get so much as a second in the databanks.” She waved at Dorn, “Tell him about the education programme.”

“Ugh, do I have to?” She rolled her eyes and set a spanner down on the workbench she was pottering around. She saw Larisa’s stern glare and sighed. “Every citizen receives compulsory education from the age of twelve, up to twenty.” She slouched. “It’s a generic look at history, of your world, and of how the elven people came to live as one and our part to play in the formation of the galactic territories.”

“Pious, nationalist shit is what she means.” Lugre snorted.

“It’s filtered from the archives and delivered in academies spread across our home world, and sometimes into the orbital colonies and fleets for spacers.”

“Spacers?”

“People born in space, born off-world, those who never get to come home. It’s supposed to bred patriotism, but it just makes them more eager to stay the hell away.”

“So,” Cydnar began to see another side to the projected perfection of his temporary home, “So you’re saying not everyone follows Denisha’s ideals?”

The ship began to descend, tilting forwards slightly in a slow arc towards a wide, flat part of the city littered with aircraft hangers and steam spewing stacks.

“It’s a big, dangerous galaxy Cydnar. We all try to do our best to survive and sometimes that means sticking to your own.” Lugre picked up Dorn’s tool and continued work on a small, glowing device which Haut and tasked them to repair to earn their passage.

“But the common bond keeps the peace,” Larisa added.

“Which is?”

“We’re all elves, in the end. It doesn’t matter if your ancestors were high, dark, or…Hummel, regardless of our private thoughts that bond is stronger than any political agenda or creed.”

“It’s an alien notion but an admirable one.” For Cydnar, who had known only hatred amongst the elven races of Althanas, the idea of people working in brittle, but long-lasting peace was a pipe-dream. Still, it gave him food for thought about how he might begin to integrate the Hummel into Salvar’s culture now they had finished constructing their new home in its snow-blasted wilds.

“Perhaps one day things will change for you,” she smirked. “Perhaps not.”

“I’d say time will tell but,” he gestured wide, “it’s clear the end goal supports that.”

“Does knowing the destination change the journey, though?”

“Ha, if it makes it easier I’ve yet to experience it.” He continued to watch the mechanics at work, using it to distract himself from the growing unease in his stomach as the ship continued to descend a increasing magnitudes.