Blake followed Eland deeper into the ship, the corridors narrowing as they wound their way past dimly lit compartments and alcoves filled with equipment he couldn't begin to identify. The hum of the ship's systems filled the air, punctuated by the occasional chirp or chime from unseen machinery.

  They entered a room that reminded Blake of a cross between an engine room and a server farm. Eland moved to a console covered in holographic displays and began tapping commands with deft fingers. Symbols and diagrams flashed across the screens, too fast for Blake to follow.

  "Zeph, run a full diagnostic," Eland said. "I want to know exactly what that suit did to my ship."

  "Running diagnostic now," a disembodied voice replied, smooth and androgynous.

  Blake watched as more data streamed across the displays. Eland's brow furrowed, his expression darkening with each passing second.

  "What's wrong?" Blake asked.

  Eland shook his head. "The damage is more extensive than I thought. That suit drew full power from the ship's core during your... upgrade."

  Blake frowned. "I don't understand. What does that mean?"

  Eland turned to face him, his eyes troubled. "It means that the changes you underwent, the enhancements to your physiology, they're not normally possible with the basic med-bay I have on board. Frankly I still don't have a clear idea how it did what it did to you."

  He ran his hand over his porpoise-like face and took a breath before continuing. "The suit pulled in a massive amount of power to achieve it, far more than the couplings in the bay were meant to manage as throughput at any given time. And it kept pulling. We're down to barely more than reserve power, and we've got hundreds of meters of internal wiring that are half-melted, which all need to be replaced."

  "So, I did this?" Blake asked, a cold weight dropping through his gut. "I damaged your ship?"

  Eland's jaw tightened. A flicker crossed the alien's eyes—something raw and fierce—but vanished before Blake could pin it down. The weariness that followed draped across Eland's shoulders, pulling them down like a heavy cloak.

  "You didn't do anything, Blake. That symbiote did. But yes, the ship is in worse shape than before."

  Blake stared down at his hands, the power surging through his veins both exhilarating and terrifying. His fingers flexed, muscles coiling with an unnatural vitality. The apology felt hollow on his tongue as he met Eland's gaze.

  "I'm sorry, Eland. I never meant for this to happen."

  "I know," Eland sighed, his shoulders slumping. "It's not your fault. We'll figure it out."

  After a moment he straightened his back, a look of determination crossing his features.

  "Come on, let's head to the canteen. We need to start putting together a new salvage list. If we're going to get off this rock, we'll need to find some very specific parts."

  Blake cleared his throat. "Look, the salvage list is critical, and I swear I'll do everything I can to help fix what happened to your ship. But..." He gestured at his transformed body. "We need to talk about whatever the hell is going on with me first."

  The words hung in the air between them. Eland's shoulders dropped, and his expression shifted from focused determination to something closer to embarrassment. His large fingers drummed once against the console before he stepped back from it.

  "You're right, of course." Eland's head dipped in acknowledgment. "I got caught up in the ship's problems when your situation is far more immediate."

  The alien's immediate pivot from his own concerns to Blake's needs sent a wave of relief through Blake's chest. He'd dealt with enough commanding officers who'd have prioritized equipment over personnel to recognize genuine care when he saw it. Even if that care came wrapped in dolphin-like features and and a scholar's verbosity.

  Blake didn't voice any of this. He didn't need to. His posture relaxed, and Eland's answering nod showed he understood the unspoken gratitude.

  They turned together, leaving the damaged systems of the lower decks behind as they headed toward the canteen. Blake's newly rebuilt muscles carried him smoothly despite the ship's tilted orientation. The absolute ease of movement only underscored how much they needed to discuss.

  Once again, Blake was impressed by how good this ship's version of the humble MRE was. Eland encouraged him to eat as much as he felt he needed, insisting that of all their potential problems, basic sustenance would not be among them. Eventually, Blake set his spoon down, finally ready to get back to serious business after getting halfway into his third packaged meal.

  "Let's get back to what you mentioned before. About improved energy flows. What exactly did you mean?"

  "Ah, yes," Eland said, wiping his mouth with a delicate motion that seemed too precise and practiced for such a simple act. Blake wondered briefly if the man had attended some sort of finishing school.

  "I imagine," Eland continued, "that cultivation practices don't properly exist on your world."

  "Cultivation?" Blake frowned. "Like growing crops?"

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  "Not precisely." Eland's long fingers drew abstract shapes in the water beading on his glass, each movement deliberate and graceful. "It's about mastering and refining the natural energies that flow through all living things. Picture your body as a vessel. Most beings are like leaky cups—energy simply passes through without purpose or control."

  "So cultivators plug the leaks?" Blake asked, trying to wrap his mind around the concept.

  "They do something far more sophisticated. They learn to guide the flow. To shape it with intention." Eland raised his hand, and Blake's eyes widened as something flickered above the alien's palm - not unlike the distortion above hot pavement on a summer day, but with distinct patterns that seemed almost alive. "The symbiotic suit has modified your body's natural pathways. Made them more... conducive to energy manipulation."

  "Okay, but what energy exactly? The only natural energies my people know of are gravity, electromagnetism, the weak nuclear force, and the strong nuclear force."

  "Well, there are more interactions than those. And an entire fundamental energy I'd wager is absent from your knowledge: Aether." Eland gestured at the space around them. "My people called it Stellar essence. Others have called it Cosmic energy, Primordial mana, Divine Investiture—different cultures have different names. But it's as real as gravity or magnetism."

  Blake took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. "And this energy, which has somehow eluded scientific discovery entirely — you can control it?"

  "With practice and discipline, yes. Though the methods vary widely between traditions." His voice grew wistful as he spoke, perhaps remembering his own lessons in this subject. "My people often couched our local terms around our culture's holy stars. One's core was their Stellar Engine, which they filled and enriched through Stellar Binding."

  "When we used that power," he continued, dramatically turning his hand palm-up, "we called it Burning Starlight."

  Blake's jaw dropped as a sphere of pure flame burst into existence above Eland's palm. The fire twisted and compressed, morphing into what looked like a miniature star. Its surface rippled with colors - ruby red bleeding into sapphire blue, then emerald green, violet, gold, silver, and pure white before starting the cycle again.

  Blake waited for the heat wave that should have accompanied such an intense display. It never came. The ball of plasma spun inches from Eland's hand, yet gave off barely more warmth than a desk lamp.

  "That's impossible," Blake whispered. His mind raced to explain what he was seeing—some advanced hologram maybe, or nanite manipulation. But he knew better. The raw energy radiating from that sphere felt different from anything in his experience.

  He was watching honest-to-god magic.

  "It's eminently possible," Eland said, expression brightening. "And luckily for you, that symbiote seems to have given you a foundation that would typically take years to develop naturally. Your channels are already beginning to stabilize."

  "Channels?" Blake asked.

  "Pathways through which energy flows in your body. Like... blood vessels, but for spiritual energy." Eland paused, considering his words. "On your world, your channels atrophied, you never even developed a mature mana core. The ambient levels of aether were clearly far too low. But here?" He gestured at the ship around them. "The universe is saturated with power."

  "Mana core? And how do you know about energy levels on my planet?"

  "Alas, so much to cover," Eland sighed. "Let's start with cores, and we can circle back around to yours at the end."

  Eland tapped a finger on the table, conjuring a small, swirling vortex of light. "Imagine this is Aether," he said. "The fundamental energy of creation, order, and stasis." Beside it, he formed another vortex, this one darker, pulsing with an unsettling energy. "And this is Nether. The energy of change, destruction, and growth."

  Blake leaned forward, captivated. The two energies danced beside each other, distinct yet intertwined. "So, like positive and negative charges?"

  "A crude analogy, but it serves." Eland nudged the two vortices together. They clashed, not with a bang, but a subtle merging, forming a swirling blend of light and shadow. "Most beings," Eland continued, "can't interact with Aether or Nether directly. Too high-concept, it's not meant for mortals. Instead, their bodies naturally convert these raw energies into a usable form." He pointed to the merged vortex. "Mana. Think of it as… distilled cosmic power."

  "And everyone has this… conversion process?" Blake asked, glancing down at his own hands, wondering what mechanisms lay hidden beneath his skin.

  "Every living creature," Eland confirmed. "Usually facilitated by a specialized spiritual organ. We call it a Core." He tapped his chest, right where Blake’s sternum was. "It acts like a… refinery, taking in Aether and Nether, processing them into manageable Mana. Different species have different types of Cores, varying in efficiency and capacity."

  He gestured to the swirling mana. "Now, mana itself isn’t uniform. It fragments into different aspects, reflecting the infinite possibilities of Aether and Nether. Like light refracting through a prism." The swirling vortex split, forming smaller eddies of distinct colors. "Fire, water, earth, air… light, shadow, life, death. These are just a few of the myriad expressions of Mana. Each with its own unique properties and applications."

  "So, magic," Blake said, the pieces clicking into place. "This is how you do it. You manipulate mana."

  Eland smiled, the gesture transforming his alien features into something almost… human. "Precisely. And now," he added, a glint in his eye, "you have the potential to do the same."

  "But I didn't before," Blake countered. "And you could tell."

  "Yes," Eland admitted. "I knew that your planet didn't have access to any meaningful amount of energy because I could literally sense how underdeveloped your energy system was. Your scientists have never discovered Aether because it was likely being kept from them."

  "What? How? Is that a thing?" This was a new wrinkle in an already confusing few days.

  "I can't be certain, but I imagine it was done very purposefully by whichever human faction owns that particular part of the galaxy."

  "And why the fuck would anyone do that?" Blake's hands clenched into fists.

  "Veil worlds are relatively popular among certain factions," Eland continued. "Most of them aren't completely cut off from magic like your planet, but even that isn't unheard of. Sometimes a faction simply wants to see what comes from a planet that has to innovate without Mana or the System."

  "You're saying my people were an experiment," Blake said, bile rising in his throat.

  "In effect, yes. Congratulations for escaping the lab, at least."

  Blake considered the strange symbiote, this body that might not even be his own, and just how little he understood about anything anymore.

  "I didn't get out on my own, Eland. Someone took me out. I'm still just a rat in a cage."