When they were in the safety of the ship, the discussion could resume.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Ty repeated the question. "Man, I'll show you the worst.
Ty yanked his shirt up, baring his scrawny torso. His rich skin creased near his belly button in raised, bumpy lines. The creases had a shape. Relda puckered her lips at the shape. It couldn't be a coincidence.
"The three stars," she murmured. "What? How?"
"I was branded," Ty replied, letting his shirt drop to cover his torso.
"Branded?" She echoed.
Raylay became fixated on the steering again.
"The Dialorians have ruled Quadrant 3 for the past eon," he explained. "Like I told you earlier. We're not allowed to know history. Dad and Aks got me a way around that."
"They're tyrants," Ty added in. "They've ruled us that long, but we're slaves to them. I tried to rebel and become a citizen of another quadrant. Master Schuyler got a hot iron and branded me."
Relda rested her body and head against her seat. The story chipped at her stonelike, toughened heart.
"How did it happen?" She asked. "How can you enslave an entire quadrant? Did you fight them? At all?"
Ty crawled into the cockpit on his hands and knees, and then sat cross-legged between Relda and Raylay.
"I don't know history like Raylay," he admitted, "but I heard some of us fought. It wasn't a big-scale battle. Just groups of freedom fighters, but most of the people--well--they wanted to be slaves."
Relda's brain searched her blanking mental database for words. She stammered and sputtered. A rough cough choked out the blankness and quiet.
"I can explain," Raylay said after a few more hacks to finish clearing his throat.