Jasper leaned back against the boat, basking in the sun. Aside from the buzz of the dinghy, there was nothing but blissful quiet. That would change as they approached the resort, so he enjoyed the moment while it lasted.

Jasper, something is wrong.

He grunted aloud, unconvinced. But then there was a reverberating whoomp that left the boat shivering in the water, and now he was suddenly up, head on a swivel.

Look up, the Old One instructed, and Jasper craned his neck. Far above him hung a hulking monster of a craft, its edges indistinct. A pleasure cruise, he guessed - one that had just entered the atmosphere. But it was too far away, its engines too quiet to explain the source of the noise. But as Jasper watched, he began to pick out little specks that circled the craft, like moths around a flame. There was a flash of light, sharp and fleeting. A few seconds later, another whoomp hit him, stirring the surface of the water.

Jasper grew cold at the sight, the sound. This scene was all too familiar, and old memories began to surface against his will.

Relax, the Old One said. I can feel you panicking.

Really? Jasper scowled, but there was no one to aim the expression at. That's a battle raging up there! Here! On Alto -

I know, she responded, and for once there was no animosity conveyed in the thought. You should get back to the resort. You need to gather information.

Whoomp. The noise blasted them again, but Jasper ignored the battle. He stared ahead, coaxing as much speed as he could from the boat. There would be no 'long-way' around this time - he needed to get back and figure out who had decided to attack this little, backwater planet.

...

Ricardia came to a jerking stop, panting. Before her stood a building that was both unsettling and familiar. It was a low, squat structure wedged between two of Onyx's typical establishments. Instead of dark concrete, however, she faced a wall of cream-colored stone.

She felt a sharp pang upon seeing it, couldn't help herself from reaching out to place her hand on the wall. But it wasn't the rough sandstone she'd expected. It was concrete, but had been cleverly painted to resemble the other material. The whole thing was a sham, she realized - a full-blown mockery of a Caedish temple. Proportions were off, designs she'd never seen at home were etched into the facade. Still, she couldn't shake the sense of familiarity that had come over her.

The music was loud now, drowning out the ambient street noise. It came from within the false-temple, and so Ricardia followed a group of tourists into the dim interior.

Back on Caedum, there would have been a communal pool in the temple chamber, a raised dais at the center for performance or prayer. But this space was cramped when it should have been airy, dark walls replacing the windows she was expecting. There was no pool; tables crammed with people filled the space. In the center, there was just enough open room for revelers to writhe, pressed together as they danced to the music.

The group ahead of her came to a stop as a woman approached. She wore a garish tunic, its blues and greens almost neon-bright. She smiled at the group, and gestured to them to follow her. Ricardia watched as she settled them at an open table, snapped at a passing server who then loaded the table with drinks. Then she turned her attention to the entrance again, and locked eyes with Ricardia. There was a fleeting moment of furrowed brows before the smile returned.

Ricardia attempted a grin of her own as the hostess approached, but the day had drained her diplomacy.

"Hello," the woman said. "A seat for one?" Ricardia gaped at her, not sure how to answer. Now that she was face to face with the host, she could see that this woman was definitely not Caedish. Her hair was straight, mousy-brown in a shade that she'd only seen on off-worlders back home. Her skin was dark, but orange-toned in a way that suggested artificial tanning.

"What is this place?" Ricardia finally asked.

The hostess blinked. "This is the Sandroom. Fine food, drinks, and entertainment! Now, may I find you a space?"

"No, no-" Ricardia fumbled as she fought for what to say. "Is the owner here? Can I speak to them?"

The hostess narrowed her eyes, giving her a once-over. "This is a busy time. Why don't you come back later?"

"Please? It's important!" Ricardia wasn't willing to let it go just yet. This place was the first glimmer of hope she'd had in hours.

"Important?" The hostess sniffed, dropping a little bit of her service-worker facade. "You look a little bit like her actually - not a lotta people around here do. You family or something?"

Ricardia made a split-second choice. "She's my distant cousin, actually. She hasn't visited us in so long... I thought I'd come and surprise her."

The hostess smirked. "Really? Huh, who would've guessed."

"Yes," Ricardia answered. "Do you mind taking me to her? I haven't told her I'd be coming..." The hostess bit her lip, eyeing her.

There was a beat of silence, then: "yeah, alright. I can spare a few seconds. Follow me, honey." She turned away, and Ricardia found herself weaving through the jam-packed tables towards the back of the club.

After skirting the bars and kitchen, Ricardia was guided into a passageway that led them out of the main chamber. Suddenly, the Caedish facade that surrounded her felt a lot more real. Although the hallway was cramped and dark, she could see images painted along its walls, bright and geometric. They passed one room, then another; she saw low-slung tables, cushions, thick, patterned curtains, all in the style of her home.

Someone's apartment, she realized. The club's owner must live here. Finally, the hostess pushed through one last curtain and the two of them found themselves in an office.

The music, which had been audible the entire time, abruptly cut off. Ricardia blinked, disoriented by the sudden silence for a moment. The whole room was likely covered by a sound dampener.

The space was cluttered, monitors and devices filling up Standard-Space tables. A small cot was pushed up against the far wall.

A woman was crouched over one of the monitors, jabbing away at a keyboard.

"Dani," the hostess called out. The woman, Dani, went still for a moment, before the clatter resumed.

"What are you doing back here, Sana?" She asked, without turning around. "Is there a problem?"

"No problem," Sana said. "One of your family came to visit."

"My family? What-" Dani swiveled around to face them, and Ricardia got her first look at the woman. She glared at her, eyes shockingly hard, before glancing at Sana. "Is this a joke?"

Ricardia flinched, averting her gaze. Sure, they had the same dark color, but she shared neither the thin face and features, nor the same kind of loose curls.

Next to her, Sana gave a little sigh. "Obviously she's not your cousin, Boss, but look at her." Ricardia saw herself through the hostess' eyes for a moment: the dirtied, ripped clothes from her chase, her mussed-up hair, the shadows under her eyes. In short, she must appear a wreck.

Sana was speaking to her now, "...you're in a bad spot, right? That's why you came here."

Ricardia nodded miserably.

"What's your name?" Dani asked her.

Ricardia blinked, startled. She had asked the question in Caedish. "Ricardia," she answered. "Of the Yigera House."

"Yigera..." Dani mused aloud. "That's a city on the south continent, yeah? Your people were settlement founders?"

"A long time ago," Ricardia answered. Although the Caedish people were a very old group, their home planet had been provisioned relatively recently. Ricardia's great-great-great-grandparents had been some of the first to settle into their promised homeland.

"So you have a Factor then?" Dani nodded to herself, already moving on. "Let me guess - somethig happened to you, and now you're stuck on this miserable rock. Why, for all that it's worth, would you come here in the first place?"

"It's complicated..." Ricardia took a half-step back, her stomach sinking. This conversation was feeling a little too similar to her meeting with the harbormaster. She needed to cut her losses and go. "Thanks for your time," Ricardia said, taking a step backwards.

"Wait." Dani sighed. She stood up, brushing crumbs from some earlier snack off her lap. "You better thank Sana here - I obviously can't dump you out onto the street."

Ricardia blinked, suprised. "If you need to know why-"

Dani cut her off. "I don't need to know. We've all got our reasons for ending up in Onyx. I can help you, but you're gonna have to work."

"I can do that," Ricardia nodded rigorously. She gave the hostess a grateful smile as Sana brushed past her, heading back to her post.

"So," Dani said, switching back to Caedish now that they were alone. "I could have you serving tables... I doubt you know how to deal, obviously. I could have you help out in the kitchens..." She trailed off, distracted by the monitor, still flashing bright with messages and alerts. Dani then waved her arm slightly and scowled, and Ricardia guessed she was looking at something on her feed. Her eyes focused again, returning to Dani. "Damn performers canceled on me tonight," she muttered aloud. "Drummer's in custody - must've pissed off the Purists. Too bad you're not a temple dancer, eh?" Dani's wan smile faded as she watched Ricardia shift uncomfortably. "Oh damn. You're kidding."

Ricardia didn't try denying it. "My Factor ended up being stronger than most. That's all."

Dani chucked. She held up her hand - for a few moments, the dark skin glowed with a hazy light. "I could never nail colors and patterns at all." She continued to peer at Ricardia. "I can't believe they let you go," she said. Ricardia fidgeted, waiting for the questions to come, but Dani returned her attention to her feed and monitors, typing away.

"I want you to dance for me, Ricardia." Dani said.