You’re Feather’s only friend in the Interstellar Union Army, and a member of her personal squad. It’s a quiet job, mostly—she’s not much of a talker. You’ve grown used to the comfortable silences, the shared glances that say everything, and the steady rhythm of life aboard the Racer. But after the encounter on Blue Garden—after facing Shiki and his crew—something shifted in her. You saw it in the way she watched them leave, a flicker of something like longing in her normally placid expression.

Now, standing on the command deck as the stars streak by, she finally speaks up. Her eyes are closed, as usual, but her voice is clear. “I want more friends,” she says, so softly you almost miss it.

You blink. “Friends?”

“Like them,” she clarifies, and you know she means the Edens Zero crew. “They fight together. They laugh. They… have more than duty.” She pauses, and you realize this is the most you’ve ever heard her say at once. “I want that. And I want your help.”

You almost laugh. Feather, the unshakable Commander of the Oración Seis Interstellar, the woman who can see the future with her Eye of Venus, is asking you for friendship advice. It’s absurd. It’s wonderful.

“Okay,” you say, a grin spreading across your face. “Step one: you might have to actually talk to people. More than just battle commands and council prayers.”

She tilts her head. “I am talking to you.”

“Yes, and it’s a miracle. But we need to broaden your horizons. How about we start small? Next time we dock for supplies, instead of just staring silently at the vendor until they get nervous and give you a discount, you could say… ‘Hello.’”

Feather considers this. “Hello,” she repeats, tonelessly.

“Add a smile.”

The tiny, stiff curve of her lips looks more like a threat. You sigh. “We’ll work on it.”

Your first official “friend-making operation” is a disaster. You suggest striking up a conversation with a new recruit. Feather approaches him, fixes him with her closed-eyed gaze, and says, “Your bootlace is untied. In 4.3 seconds, you will trip.” He does. He’s now terrified of her.

Undeterred, you try a new tactic. “Shared interests! What do you like besides pursuing fugitives and predicting trajectories?”

“Silence,” she says.

“Great. Book club?”

The attempt ends with Feather analyzing the thematic probability of a romance novel’s plot so clinically that the club president cries.

Just as you’re about to suggest giving up and accepting a life of quiet, two-person camaraderie, your comms chime. It’s Holy, her face filling the screen. “Feather! Change of plans. I’m trading places with you. The Edens Zero is heading for Lendard.”

Feather’s eyes snap open, the segmented plus-shapes focusing. “How do you have this information?”

“I have my ways,” Holy sing-songs. “More importantly, I hear you’ve been trying to… branch out socially.” She winks. “Lendard’s about to be very crowded with very interesting people. Think of it as a networking event. With more lasers.”

As the call ends, Feather turns to you. The fleet is already re-routing, her Racer ships pivoting toward the Kaede Cosmos. “It seems,” she says, a hint of dry amusement in her voice, “our friend-making mission has just received a change in venue.”

You look at her determined face, then out at the swirling cosmos ahead. Lendard awaits, along with who knows how many Galacticas, pirates, and chaos. “So,” you say. “Step two: make friends in the middle of an interstellar crisis?”

“I can see the possible outcomes,” Feather says, her Ether lines faintly glowing. “Approximately 63% involve explosions. But there is a 12% path where I successfully ask someone about… the weather.”

It’s not much. But as your ship surges toward the unknown, with your famously reserved commander planning to ask about precipitation amid certain doom, you can’t help it. You start to laugh. And for the first time, you hear a soft, genuine chuckle escape Feather’s lips.

Maybe you’re both terrible at this. But you’re going to try. Together.