Marina wiped the last of the dirt from her knees and glanced back toward the pod.
Julie noticed the shift in her eyes immediately.
"…You're thinking about your mother," Julie said softly.
Marina nodded.
"I—I should tell her I'm okay. Starlight Scout pods have radio links. I can call her from inside."
Julie smiled. "Alright. Let's give her some peace of mind."
The two walked across the clearing toward the silver sphere. The fox and rabbits followed at a distance, cautious of the alien machine. The spirit wisp floated in slow circles around the pod, curious but wary.
Marina pressed her palm to the hatch.
Hiss— It opened, steam rising from the interior. She climbed inside and pressed a sequence of glowing runes along the console.
A soft hum filled the pod.
Marina's face brightened with hope.
"Okay… just gotta boost the signal… this button… and—"
CRACK—POP—SPARK!
The lights on the console flickered violently. Marina flinched. "Huh? That's not normal—" The holographic interface glitched, scrambled symbols flashing rapidly.
Static crackled.
The main screen dimmed.
"No, no, no… don't do that!" Marina pleaded.
She tapped the communication node again.
Nothing.
She tried the emergency channel.
Nothing.
She smacked the side of the console. The entire pod sputtered, sparked again… and shut down completely. The interior lights died. The hum faded into silence. And with it—Marina's only connection to Homeworld.
"W-what…?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "Why isn't it—? It should've worked…" Her hands trembled as she pressed the console again. And again. But the buttons no longer responded. Her heart pounded in her chest.
"My pod… my pod's broken…" she whispered, eyes widening in horror. "I can't… I can't call my mom…"
The realization hit her like a punch.
Her breath hitched.
"I… I can't go home…" Her small frame shook as the weight of those words sank in.
Julie hurried to the pod and knelt beside its entrance.
"Marina…?" she called gently.
Marina didn't answer at first—tears welled in her eyes, her jaw quivering. She tried to force a brave Starlight Scout expression but failed.
Julie placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Hey… deep breaths," she said softly. "You're not alone. You hear me?"
Marina sniffed hard and tried to wipe her eyes with her sleeve. "But… my mom… she's so far away… and this was the only way to talk to her… I was supposed to check-in… and—and—" Her voice broke. Julie wrapped an arm around her gently, pulling her into a warm, steady embrace. "It's okay," Julie whispered, brushing Marina's hair softly. "You're safe. We'll figure this out together."
Marina leaned into her—small, scared, and vulnerable, the weight of the cosmos suddenly too big for her ten-year-old heart.
After a moment, Julie pulled back, her expression turning thoughtful.
"I know someone," she said. "Someone brilliant. Someone kind. Someone who… understands things from beyond our world."
Marina blinked through her tears. "R-really…?"
Julie nodded.
"He's a former scientist from the Shinto Company—but don't let that scare you. He left them long ago." She looked to the north, where a cold breeze traveled through the trees. "He lives far from here… in the Glacier Inn. A little village tucked into the snow."
Marina sniffed. "He can fix my pod?"
Julie smiled gently.
"If anyone can… Professor Gale Pharos can."
Marina stared up at her, eyes wide with fragile hope.
Julie stood and extended her hand.
"Come on. We'll go together. You're not facing this world alone."
Marina hesitated for only a heartbeat— then placed her small hand into Julie's. The forest path eventually gave way to frost-kissed winds and snowy mountains. Marina shivered a little—more from nerves than from the cold—as Julie carried her through drifting flakes toward the quiet village nestled beneath the pale sky.
Soon, the warm yellow glow of windows flickered through the snow.
Glacier Inn.
Smoke rose from chimneys. Windchimes sang softly. And standing near one of the small houses were three adults and a little girl—bundled warmly, waiting.
Julie waved.
"Professor Gale! Lucilia! Ifalia!"
The older man stepped forward, brushing snow from his coat. His eyes sparkled with curiosity the moment he spotted the small figure beside Julie.
"Julie," he greeted warmly, "you sounded urgent on the phone. An extraterrestrial artifact, you said?"
Julie nodded. "And a child. A very frightened one."
Gale's brows lifted slightly.
Lucilia and Ifalia exchanged a silent look—one of recognition and instinctive gentleness.
Maria peeked from behind her mother's skirt, eyes wide and glowing with innocent interest. Julie led them all to the clearing where the Starlight Scout pod lay half-buried. Gale's breath caught the instant he saw it—hands already reaching for tools as if pulled by instinct. Lucilia stepped around the pod with scientific precision. Ifalia stood close behind, her Ancient senses humming.
Julie knelt beside Marina.
"Let them take a look, okay?"
Marina nodded silently, hugging her arms to her chest.
Maria tip-toed over and smiled shyly.
"I like your dress…" Marina blinked. "…Thanks?"
Maria giggled.
Meanwhile, Gale pressed his palm along the pod's side, listening to the faint hum inside.
"Incredible craftsmanship…" he murmured. "Metallic alloys I've never seen. Heat-resistant beyond terrestrial standards. And these runic interfaces… not magical, not mechanical—something… between."
Lucilia nodded, opening her portable scanner.
"It's biomechanical," she said. "Part technology, part living circuit. Whoever built this… their science is centuries beyond Shinto."
Ifalia stood beside them, fingers brushing the surface.
"The flow of energy is unlike Lifestream. More linear. More focused. This pod was created for survival… and for warriors."
Gale paused.
"A warrior pod… sent with a child?"
Julie gently raised a hand. "Marina can explain that part."
Marina stepped forward timidly but spoke with Starlight Scout pride.
"I'm a Starlight Scout from Planet Homeworld. All our pods are made for training, missions, and travel. I came here because I'm supposed to learn and explore…"
Gale shared a look with Lucilia—equal parts awe and sympathy.
"An alien," Lucilia whispered. "A child… alone on another world."
Marina's ears flapped with joy. Gale straightened, adjusting his glasses. "Well, the good news is—yes. Lucilia and I can repair this. We've worked with Shinto equipment for years. This is… far more advanced, but the fundamentals are decipherable." Marina's eyes sparkled. "R-really?! You can fix it?!"
Lucilia smiled softly. "Yes, sweetheart. But…"
Her expression fell.
Gale sighed.
"The damage is… extensive."
He gestured to the ruptured panel, fried circuits, and burnt inner core.
"If the pod had simply shorted out, repairs would take a few days. A week at most."
Marina exhaled in relief.
"Buuut…" Gale continued, wincing. "'But'?" Marina echoed in worry.
At that exact moment— CRACK—FZZT—BOOM!
The pod sparked violently. Flames burst from the side, sending Julie, Ifalia, and Maria stumbling back. Gale immediately sprayed foam, dousing the fire.
Smoke curled upward as the metal hissed.
Lucilia stared in stunned silence.
Ifalia slowly face-palmed with motherly resignation.
Julie whispered, "…Oh no."
Gale lowered his extinguisher, coughing. "Well. That complicates things." Marina's eyes filled with dread. "How… how long now?"
Lucilia crouched beside the ruined panel.
"Some of the internal systems are melted…" Ifalia nodded gravely. "The core needs full reconstruction."
Marina trembled. Gale rubbed the back of his neck.
"At minimum… weeks. Possibly months." Marina's knees buckled, and she fell to the snow. "M-Months…?" she whispered, voice cracking. "That long…? Without seeing my mom…? Without even talking to her?"
Her eyes welled as her small hands curled into fists in the snow.
"I… I didn't think… it'd break this bad…"
Julie knelt beside her, pulling her into a gentle embrace.
Maria walked over and placed a tiny hand on Marina's shoulder. "It's okay… You can stay with us. I'll play with you! You won't be lonely."
Marina sniffed, wiping her eyes.
"I… I really miss my mom…"
Ifalia knelt too, her voice soft and warm.
"You're not alone here, Marina. We will all help you until you can return home."
Gale offered the kind smile of a father and grandfather. "And I promise—your pod will be repaired. I'll work day and night if I must."
Lucilia nodded. "You have our word."
Marina looked at all of them—Julie, Maria, Ifalia, Lucilia, Gale.
A strange warmth filled her chest.
She still felt sad.
But… She wasn't scared anymore.
For the first time on Earth… She felt like she had a place. The cold mountain wind brushed softly against Marina's cheeks as she stood beside the smoldering remains of her pod. The others were already packing their tools, the pod carefully loaded onto a sled for transport back to Glacier Inn.
Julie crouched beside Marina, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Marina," she said softly, "your pod isn't going to be usable for quite some time. Until Gale can repair it… you'll need a place to stay."
Marina looked down, small clouds forming with each trembling breath. "…I don't want to be a bother…"
Julie smiled warmly.
"You won't be. My home is open to you. You can stay with me as long as you need."
Marina blinked up at her—confused, touched, and vulnerable all at once.
"All the way… until it's fixed…? Weeks… maybe months?"
Julie nodded. "Yes. No matter how long."
Marina rose just slightly in relief. "A-are you sure…? I don't want to make trouble…"
Julie brushed a snowflake from the girl's hair.
"Marina, you're a child far from home. Helping you isn't trouble—it's the right thing to do."
Maria bounced beside them excitedly.
"You can sleep over! We'll make a bed for you! Oh—and I'll show you the flowers behind the inn!"
Marina blinked, overwhelmed by kindness she didn't expect to find on a foreign world.
She bowed her head respectfully—hands at her sides in a formal Starlight Scout gesture.
"Thank you… Miss Julie."
Julie smiled.
"Come on. Let's get you somewhere warm." Far across the stars, beneath the twin moons of Homeworld, the night sky was calm.