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I like the main strip, with the high ceilings and the bustle of life. It’s been growing and growing, filling up with souls as our station expanded. We hired a few retired soldiers from the Human Alliance to do private security in the asteroid field, a service that has been in high demand since the Scorp started to go wild and the Separatists lurk in the depths of Wild Space. It’s not that profitable, since if the miners weren’t protected they’d have to buy our repair services, but it’s not just about money. In this insane universe, I’m just glad we’re offering stability.

Garrick’s aura hardens. If it was up to him, he’d plan my route down to the second, and he’d have Tar’ank in a high vantage point with his rifle trained on anyone who dares to get within ten feet of me.

I have to remind myself of how dangerous the universe is to not chafe under the over-protectiveness of my triad. I should be able to walk around the space station as I please. I’m not their prisoner—well, not anymore. It seems so long ago I was a captive onThe Instigator.

We walk together through the hallways. The rifles on Garrick’s and Tar’ank’s backs are more for show than anything else. Conventional weapons, even high-powered rifles, are nothing compared to their Orb-Blades.

They move so much faster than you’d expect. They can jump nearly twenty feet, and if you drew a weapon against them you’d have an Orb-Blade down your throat before you could pull the trigger. I’ve watched them training in the combat gallery. It’s a hypnotic, deadly dance.

A huge set of blast doors marks the end of our private estate. It’s five feet thick, reinforced steel. Even a triad of Aurelians with Orb-Blades would be delayed by the defenses long enough for my triad to challenge them. Rifle shots would just bounce off. They rumble as they open, and despite being safe and sound in our own station, by instinct Garrick and Tar’ank flank outwards.

Old habits die hard, and they spent a hundred years in the Aurelian army together fighting for order and justice. I find it fascinating how they move, taking battle stances, always ready for war.

We step through the open blast doors together and onto the balcony that gives us a view of the station. I look down at what we built.

Two curling staircases lead out from either side of the balcony, and a big glass elevator sits in the middle for us to go down. I watched my triad test the glass of the elevator with pistols that plinked off the reinforced glass. Past the stairways, the main floor of the station is open. The huge ceiling dome looms over us.

It was hard iron, cold and unwelcoming when we first settled here. I used to think of this place as a pit-stop. Now it’s a growing community. To the far left, against the walls, a crane builds up apartments, the first permanent dwellings on our station. It would have been cheaper to use 3d printing methods to pour the concrete, but I believe beauty is important, and I approved the final designs myself.

We’re turning into a little city. In these dark times, people crave stability and safety. Even the ones who are willing to risk their necks for a fortune. We made it clear that the station could relocate at any moment without warning, and not a one of the settlers batted an eye. Where we go, they will go.

The air is rich and bountiful, laden with oxygen. Below us is a park, with trees planted that are growing naturally. I wanted to make an oasis for the people who decided to put roots here. It’s so strange seeing young trees propped up that I will live to watch grow to their full height over centuries.

At the end of the station there’s a hazy edge to our vision as we look out at the huge open doors of the loading bay. You can see the faint twinkle of stars. I watch the airfield shimmer as a mining ship flies in—with all weapons and beams disabled before it’s allowed to come within ten miles of our station.

Theme installed a new scanner which can detect if weapons systems draw even a percent of power, and we’ve got two Orb-Beam turrets that track new ships until everything is turned off.

The rules are clear. You turn on your weapons systems for a second, we turn you into dust. I’m not taking chances with the safety of our community.

“Stairs or elevator?” Garrick asks, planning it out already. I know he’s thinking strategically, but I wish he could relax for once. His aura is always so tense. He sees threats everywhere, even in our home.

He’s the leader of my triad, and he’s the one who constantly plans and worries, upgrading security measures to keep us safe. When I got pregnant, he only got more obsessed.

“Let’s take the elevator,” I reply, and we step into the big glass elevator. It can fit the three of us easily. I watch a couple walking along the main cobblestone strip with their child. The father points up, and the kid looks at my triad as we descend. Even from far away I can see the awe on his face.

The elevator smoothly stops at the bottom floor, the transparent doors opening. I take a deep breath in, smelling the new buds of flowers. Theme worked with me to create a seasonal cycle similar to a bountiful hemisphere of Old Earth, so that the seasons will change and leaves will turn golden in the autumn. I’ve never been to the birthplace of humanity, but my theory is that because we evolved on Old Earth, the healthiest biosphere for us would replicate our roots.

My triad and I walk down the cobblestone path, our boots clicking against the ground.

The little family moves aside, and I reach into the pocket of my dress for a candy, made with all natural sweet-fruit from a desert planet far away. All three of my triad’s auras are tense as I give it to the little boy. He’s shy, looking down, scared to be around the three huge Aurelians. I want the citizens to view my triad as a source of protection, not intimidation. That will start with not having my three alien warriors staring at an innocent family like they’ve got knives up their sleeves.

“What do we say, James?” chides his mother lightly as he hand closes around the candy.

“Thank you, Sawoot,” he answers, looking up at me. I give him a big smile, and he visibly relaxes. Inwardly, I’m imagining my own son. I’m imagining walking down these cobblestone paths just like this family, taking in the day and justbeing.

Even if Tasha takes a year or two to conceive, my son will have a playmate. They take much longer to mature. I had been worried about my kid growing up with human children, who age so much faster. He’d see his friends become teenagers and adults while he’s still a boy, and I worried what that would do to his development.

“You’re very welcome, James. What a beautiful family you have,” I say, smiling at the beaming mom. I want to say more, but the tension in my triad is rising, so I say goodbye and continue down the path. We walk past the park, where families play, and the three men act like there’s assassins lurking in the playground.

I can’t take it anymore. “You can’t treat everyone on this space station like a threat,” I say, finally bristling. I’ve been as patient as I can be, but I’m not going to spend the next two hundred years like this as my son turns into a young adult.

Garrick turns and sighs. His hand inches away from the Orb-Blade hilt at his belt. “I know, I know. I…when I look at you, I see all I have to lose.”

It must be exhausting being Garrick. He’s naturally the leader, and he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“We’re safe. We’re okay. And we’re going to have a beautiful, perfect little family, all five of us,” I answer, trying to soothe the overprotective Aurelians.

I feel their auras soften ever so slightly, and I beam at them, so happy to have finally relaxed them, even for a second. Tar’ank leans in, kissing my ear.