Karun hopped onto the long front seat with me. I was feeling a little nervous and more than a little excited as we followed Hardin's mecharover out on the eastern road. As with most roadways, on Vaxivia, it was just a length of packed dirt with short steel post markers every few miles and bunches of succulent flowers punctuating the loneliness of the drylands.

It was well past midday when we finally got beyond the outer boundaries of the Outpost. The sky overhead was brilliant in variegated shades of blue. The breeze in the biosphere, the engineered atmosphere, was warm, dry, and oddly sweet smelling. Nomadic birds passed above us at infrequent intervals, small reminders of Vaxivia's original design.

Approximately 500 years before humans finally began teleportation to Vaxivia, Earth Federation's Colonization Taskforce had selected the planet for development and begun sending robotic developers to introduce conditions favorable for human life. Wildlife had been designed to replicate Earth species, both for farming and ecosystem development.

Initially, the planet was intended to serve as a luxury desert oasis vacation destination for Earth Federation's wealthy elites. Political unrest and social restructuring had seen the Federation's class system thrown into disarray, and Vaxivia was abandoned, a half-completed project, until refugees began to work to create a haven for themselves in this forgotten wilderness.

We had ridden in silence for some time, both of us taking in the tranquility of the flats dotted here and there with desert poppies and weathered trees, when I finally decided to disturb the lull.

“So. Prince Karun,” I started.

“Just Karun will suffice,” he interrupted. “I am a prince-in-exile, with no official role or inheritance. The honorific no longer feels fitting.”

“Yeah, so why is that? I mean, why are you guys exiled? The 'Dragon Wars' Karuv was talking about?” I asked, curious about this planet of which I knew so little.

“There is no brief answer to that.”

“This isn't a brief ride. Educate me, dragon-boy,” I prodded. He side-eyed me but seemed amused. Maybe he was starting to relax.

“Essentially, yes. When Necak and his ilk challenged the law of succession and war erupted, several of the noble houses saw an opportunity to reconfigure the Dragselian power structure in their favor. Individual factions warred against the crown and each other, all trying to lay claim through their royal lineage and connections. There was no way to win with so many competing forces and the wars just dragged on. It was devastating. Whole cities were razed, and many families within the royal line were completely eradicated.

“Twenty-two years after the Dragon Wars started, an armistice was declared. The Treaty of Vahakun was ratified and the war was over. One faction, the kin of Necak, refused to comply with the bylaws and thus were driven out of the colonies. The rest you have heard.”

“But . . . what does that have to do with you?” I asked, still confused.

He sighed, looking out the window. I wondered whether I had overstepped.

“It has everything to do with us. Ever since the Treaty of Vahakun was ratified into law, it has been declared that upon the coronation of a new monarch, all younger brothers are to be exiled to whichever outlying colony the new monarch chooses. In this way, we avoid any challenges to succession and preserve peace.”

That seemed extreme. “So your brother was okay with sending all of you millions of lightyears away from your home?”

“Mulkaro, my eldest brother and the new king, is not like myself and my younger brothers. He has always viewed us with suspicion and intolerance. We have always been, in his eyes, a threat to his future, to his power. I believe he was relieved to send us away, to have, at last, a sense of security in his position.”

“So can you ever go back? I mean, is there an . . . expiration date, I guess, for your exile?”

“Mulkaro's death,” he replied bluntly. “It is the tradition and the law of my people that I, and my brothers with me, live out the remainder of our lives in obscurity.”

“That's got to be hard. I can't imagine having to leave Vaxivia or my family,” I said, looking wistfully out across the flats of my home.

“Are you of Vaxivia, then, or were you born elsewhere?” Karun asked

“Born and bred! My family settled here four generations ago. We were some of the first residents, in fact. I grew up on a compound near the Hub, but before it was advanced to its current state. My whole family—dad, uncles, brother, ten relatives in total—are all militia men.”

“Ah, so it is a family legacy then?” He smiled.

“I guess you could say that. I never thought about doing anything else, and to be honest, if I had wanted to do anything else, I would have had to leave the Outpost, and that never sounded appealing.”

“Considering the way you handled yourself against the Infernians and their hired hands, it would seem the occupation suits you. But do you always jump into battle without knowing any of the facts?” I heard a note of teasing in his voice.

“Luckily for you, I did last night.” I smiled, wagging an eyebrow. “I've been trained to hold my own since I could walk. Hard to turn that off, I guess.”

“Do you still live with your family?” Karun smiled. He seemed to be breathing easier now that the conversation had veered away from his own turmoil.

“No, our compound was destroyed a few years ago.” I paused, bracing myself against the memories.

“TriScurra men were running a smuggling ring, and things were pretty bad for a while. We think they may have even been trafficking people. My brother, Orion, along with Johnson, was leading a task force against them. TriScurra struck first . . .” I swallowed against the rising emotion. “But we struck back, and more effectively. Until last night, they hadn't been spotted in over two years.”

“I am sorry. I did not mean to bring up such dark memories.” I glanced over at him and saw his eyes were full of contrition.

I half smiled. “It's okay. I don't want to not think about Orion. He deserves to have his memory honored. It's hard knowing he's not there anymore, but I'd rather that than never have had him in my life. When you love someone, you take the good with the bad, I guess.”

He looked thoughtful. “Without my brothers, I would be lost. Even with them, I sometimes feel . . . like I don't know who I am anymore,” he finished quietly.

I hadn't expected to share so much of myself, and from his silence, I had the sense that neither had Karun. I had only known this man a day, but since the moment we had made eye contact at the clinic, I couldn't deny that there was something different about him, about how he made me feel.

Not ready to follow those thoughts any further, I decided it was time for a change of pace.

“Do you enjoy music?” I asked, fumbling through the small pack in the compartment beside my seat.

“Very much so. At home, in Vahakun, we hosted dignitaries and diplomats from across many galaxies. I always enjoyed learning about their cultures and experiencing different types of music or entertainment. I even have some knowledge of Earth music,” he said proudly.

Finding the audio chip in my pack, I inserted it into the mecharover's dock. “Growing up so far from Earth proper, we don't have access to much new stuff, but there are some things that don't need improving. If there is a situation that can't use some Johnny Cash, I haven't lived it, and hell, I don't want to.”

“I cannot say I know of this,” he said, looking eager.

With the wind blowing through the open windows, we listened to peppy trumpets followed by the rich luxury of Johnny's voice singing Ring of Fire.

“This is a very different kind of music from anything I have heard before,” he said, looking just a bit excited. “I can see why you like this. What is this called?”

We talked briefly about music. I learned that Dragselians preferred solemn, choral music and that they used few, if any, instruments. In turn, I played more Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan, and some Leonard Cohen for him. It was a surreal conversation.

“Well, spank me silly. Who would have thought I'd be teaching a dragon-man about ancient earth music on a road trip through the deserts of Vaxivia?” I joked.

“Dragon-man now?” he asked in a rumbly voice that I felt as much as heard.

Laughing, I answered, “Maybe you're growing on me.”

“Does that mean I get to spank you silly?” he joked and wagged his brows at me as I nearly choked on the unexpected laugh. Who knew dragons could get fresh?

“Actually, I prefer to do the spanking,” I teased back, recovering myself.

“That surprises me not at all,” he answered, smiling.

The first sun began to set, changing the shadows which were always moving, stretching, and shifting. They seemed to mirror the unsettled feelings stirring inside me.