The moment Lindsy walked back to the table her dad and her brother looked at her. Then she picked up her glass and took a drink and looked at the mother. At that moment she knew there was no version of this conversation that wouldn't be exactly what it was going to be, and that there was no benefit in dealing with it from a position.

"I want to talk to you", she said.

Her mom nodded once slowly. Like someone who'd already figured out the conclusion and was just waiting for everyone else to catch up. "I know" she said.

"I know you know" Lindsy said.

Her dad looked between them with that look he used when they did the thing where information passed between them without actually saying it, and he wanted to determine what that information was. "Are either of you going to tell me?" he asked.

"The Antican Collective offered me a contract", Lindsy said. "Frontier Routes." "Initial 3-year term with option for renewal". She met his gaze. "And I signed the deal this morning".

Her dad stayed quiet for a few minutes. He looked at his glass, then at the view port, then at her. He watched him mentally trace the normal route and the wrong route and realize that these are two different things. But if people confuse the two, that is probably the most common mistake made by both commuters and travelers in their day-to-day lives.

He’d never told her what to do. He had that respect from her in ways she couldn’t explain.

"What corridor?", he asked.

"Tessivak Approach", she said. "Alternate Primary/Secondary through variance zone".

He nodded slow. “My grandmother surveyed the outer Tessivak Route in 2341. Data from your grandfather's transit exists in the Family Archives. It's older data, but gravity markers don't change. Bring it with you.”

“I’ve already reviewed it”, she said.

He changed expressions slightly near as he got to showing that something had landed in a way he wasn’t prepared for. “Of course you have”, he said.

Her brother looked between all of them with the expression of a man who was born into a family of navigators but turned to botany specifically to stay away from conversations regarding gravitational variance zones and was sitting in one now. “Was this a good thing?” he asked.

“Yes” her mother responded right away and without any qualification and gave Lindsy the full quality of a frontier look for the first time in many years; which was something Lindsy had tried to get a hold of since she was 12 and now Lindsy felt as though she finally began to understand it – although not internally yet – however close enough to see the outline of it clearly.

“2 days”, Lindsy said.

“2 days”, her mother agreed.

Her father placed his hand on top of hers and said nothing because he was a navigator and navigators understand leaving in a fashion that doesn’t require explanation, and she held onto his hand for a few seconds and viewed the view port and fleet passing over the city and thought about the Tessivak approach and variance zone and the 3 years ahead of her that would show her things that the inner routes hadn’t showed her despite how intently she listened.

Her mother raised her glass toward the view port for a second in another small private gesture that Lindsy had seen her make previously, signifying acknowledgement rather than celebration, and drank, then set it down again and looked at her daughter with the frontier quality still visible on her face.

"When you come back" her mother said, "you’ll have some sort of insight about this family that you’ll never have until you leave"

Lindsy regarded her. "what is it?",

"We always come back", her mom said. “Whether we wanted to or not -- because we choose to. Each Vaelor has come back -- and each time you stand at some rail somewhere away from here looking at a fleet that isn’t this fleet thinking ‘home’ that decision means something different each time”.

Lindsy kept that for an exceptionally long time before nodding and raising her own glass toward the view port as her mother had done prior to that, acknowledging whatever it was being acknowledged, and drank after wards setting it down.

Her brother also raised his glass somewhat hesitantly as if unclear on the protocol involved but realizing that something was happening that required participation. Her father simply raised his glass with no formalities. They sat at the table in their private room filled with gold light and blue chairs and fleet above and city below while identifying (and thus commemorating) whatever it was being identified (and thus memorialized) by Vaelors in the way they have always commemorated everything -- with minimal words needed.

Above them, a freighter finished its departure sequence among the orbital traffic around Rigel IV, while above the lounge shone brightly in starlight. Beneath them Rigel IV cast its lights upward into space.

Lindsy wore a white and gold dress along with her family at the table. She recognized her path… she wondered if she’d return from the other side… and what this selection was going to mean when she selected it.

She was a Vaelor… therefore this is how it works.