NOD
Some younglings left behind on World Tree.
Learn skills.
Learn traditions.
Then one day, work among the stars.
Kept scrappiest one with me.
Call it George.
George clever and fast and filled with mischief.
Much potential. Much naughtiness.
Much teaching to be done.
Work, and show, and teach.
And one day George will be fine engineer, like all Druff.
But while I think this, I remember.
Remember message Chet gave to Johnny while curled up and dying.
Choking on internal fluids.
“All white ships cousins,” Chet said.
And I puzzle.
All Druff related. We are all one with World Tree. Even those who serve on alien vessels like Hound of Difficulty.
All one.
Always have been.
Always worked, always served.
Even served Hearthers, back in the day.
Hearthers.
Hearthers who fled universe and left Fleet of Knives behind.
Fleet…
My finger-petals shake as if stirred by breezes of home. My stomach squirms around like oily fish.
Much realisation.
Sudden revelation.
Is logical.
Is probably super-important.
Must tell Captain Konstanz.
Must tell her right now.