Eventually, the others drifted off to bed, leaving only myself, Laia, and T’lish awake. I wasn’t surprised to find that T’lish required far less sleep. The Kall-e only slept for two hours a day, she’d quietly explained. Rather than rest, she politely asked if she could inspect the slipstream engine, hoping perhaps to decipher some useful information. Laia and I exchanged a brief glance, and I saw no reason to refuse.

  “Follow me,” I said as I activated the corridor lights in sequence to guide our path. Leading towards the heart of the ship. I opened the locked door. This central part of the ship remained unvisited by the others. It contained my core, Laia's core, and the slipstream drive.

  As we guided her gently toward the engine room, T’lish glanced around curiously, finally daring to re-ask the question she had asked earlier. "May I inquire more about your…condition? About being a living ship?"

  I chuckled softly. "Sure. Ask away."

  "What is it like? Being... what you are?"

  "A living ship?" I chuckled. "Well, for starters, it makes finding comfortable pyjamas nearly impossible."

  T'lish blinked rapidly, clearly unsure if I was joking. I decided to take pity on her.

  "It's... strange," I admitted, my voice echoing slightly through the corridor speakers. "My hull overheats and I feel pain and not metaphorical, not simulated, but actual pain. Like someone is actually burning me."

  I turned on the lights making sure T’lish could see where she was going. "Objects near my hull register like something brushing against skin. When fuel runs low, there's a hollowness that feels exactly like hunger. And when I push the sublight engines too hard—"

  "What happens then?" T'lish asked, eyes wide with genuine curiosity.

  "Imagine your heart pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears. Except my 'ears' are distributed across several thousand square meters."

  I projected a small warning light at a protruding pipe near T'lish's head, which she neatly ducked under. "Of course, there are some experiences I'll spare you the details of. Let's just say that certain propulsion system malfunctions create sensations that are... embarrassingly biological."

  T'lish's head tilted, puzzled for a moment before realization dawned. Her scales darkened slightly in what I assumed was their version of a blush.

  "Fascinating," she murmured, recovering quickly. "Though a Kall-e would never willingly..." Her voice trailed off, claws tapping against her thigh. "Such a transformation would be considered..." Her mouth twisted around the word, "...dishonorable."

  Something subtle in the way she emphasized the word ‘honorable’ made me wonder if she wasn’t entirely sold on her people’s obsession with honor.

  We reached the engine room, the noise of the slipstream drive filling the space around us. T’lish stepped forward, her slender claws brushing lightly against the casing as she examined the engine. She moved carefully, respectfully, almost reverently.

  "You know," she said after a quiet pause, "Kall-e scientists are generalists. Specialists do not exist in our culture. We are expected to know a bit of everything and there are so few of us”

  Laia’s avatar moved softly, hovering near my shoulder. "Then maybe you can help us understand this engine better," she said gently. "What do you know about slipstream—or the 'Mother Blood,' as your people call it?"

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  T’lish turned to face us again, expression solemn. "What do you know yourselves?"

  I sighed, offering a wry smile. "Honestly? Not much. Just that we can use it to travel vast distances."

  T’lish inclined her head slightly as if she were considering her answer. "The Mother Blood," she began carefully, as if reciting from memory, "is sacred to the Kall-e. Our faith teaches us that the universe itself is the Mother and she is alive and breathing. When we die, we return to Her embrace. Like any living being, She needs circulation, and nourishment. The Mother’s Blood flows through Her body, distributing energy, life, from system to system."

  She paused, eyes distant. "Only the worthy are allowed to enter Her Blood and even then, only with Her explicit permission. The Kall-e... we do not have that permission. Our gods say we aren’t ready."

  I frowned, connecting dots quickly. "So what are the Kall-e gods like?" I asked already suspecting I knew the answer.

  T’lish grew very still, eyes widening slightly. Then, without a word, she reached for a small pendant hidden beneath her robes, lifting it carefully into view. Dangling from the thin chain was a small, intricately carved figurine it was a flawless replica of one of the insect creatures we had encountered on that desert planet.

  "This," she said quietly, "is Aulor, the Father of Science. According to our oldest histories, he gifted us knowledge. There are 11 other gods all of the same kin"

  My suspicion was confirmed, the Kall-e were an uplifted species. It explained a lot of their peculiarities, though T’lish didn’t linger on the revelation. Her attention had already shifted fully onto the slipstream drive, her eyes brightening as she opened the personal holopad she'd brought aboard and began comparing notes.

  She leaned forward, tracing delicate lines across the holoscreen as she inspected key components. Occasionally, she murmured softly to herself, nodding or shaking her head, absorbed completely in her work.

  After several tense minutes of quiet examination, she glanced up at us, expression utterly serious. "Yes, it’s broken."

  I managed not to roll my avatar's eyes. "I was already painfully aware of that. Anything useful?"

  "Most of the immediate problems are electrical, easy to fix with minor repairs," she said, running her finger along the glowing schematics. Then she paused, focusing intently on a single glowing crystal at the heart of the drive. "But the bigger issue is here. This crystal is fractured. It’s what allows you to open slipstream windows." She frowned, clearly troubled. "I can identify its function, but I don’t have the knowledge or resources to replicate or repair it."

  I exchanged a glance with Laia. To keep our conversation private, we used a virtual bridge to avoid her overhearing. "Show her the scans," I said. "But only the organs. Let’s not give her the full insect just yet I have no idea how she would react to seeing one of her 'gods.'"

  Laia nodded softly, projecting a holographic image of the internal organs we'd scanned from the insectoid drones earlier. T’lish immediately straightened, eyes sharpening as she studied the projection. Her slender fingers traced rapidly over the various organs, her expression growing brighter with each passing moment.

  "These," she said excitedly, pointing at two specific organs, "these are precisely what we’d need. Their biological structure could potentially enhance or perhaps even replace the damaged crystal." Her excitement quickly dimmed, though, replaced by quiet frustration. "But we’d need access to a proper genetic lab to even begin creating a viable replacement. And without slipstream, that will be difficult."

  I sighed, frustrated but unsurprised by yet another roadblock.

  "Do you have more scans like this?" she asked suddenly, her gaze eager again.

  Laia nodded and offered them instantly. Without another word, T’lish scooped the holopad and practically sprinted out of the room and to an isolated corner of the cargo bay, settling cross-legged onto the floor, fully engrossed in her research.

  Watching her leave, I couldn’t help but shake my head. She will fit in quite well here. I turned quietly to Laia. "What about that warp drive we salvaged from Kel and Lynn's ship is there any way we could retrofit it onto my hull? At least as a temporary solution?"

  Laia hesitated, her tiny wings fluttering uncertainly. "I've never known a Todd-class ship to have both warp and slipstream capabilities. Even if it were possible and that's a big if that warp core was only ever intended to move a small ship. I doubt it could handle your mass, not for any meaningful distance."

  "Great," I muttered, frustration creeping into my voice. "So, unless T’lish has some kind of miracle breakthrough, we’re still stuck because I’m too fat?"

  Laia hovered quietly beside me, “Yes, your weight is the problem” she said while giving me a wink.

  The other solution wasn't ideal, as it required sending the whole crew to find a lab and grow a new set of organs. Protecting them that far out of my control would be impossible. Not for the first time I wished I could upload myself to the avatar.