"Home?" asked the alien. "In what sense?" He stood up, and walked to the massive window. At a quick command the lights in the room dimmed. "One of those stars is the original home of the human race." He pointed, although against the galactic backdrop it was impossible to tell precisely which sparkle of light he was indicating. "Arrangements can be made for any of you to visit. If you so desire, permanent habitation might be possible."
"That's rather generous," Mu said suspiciously.
"The likelihood of being able to return you to the place you came from is unknown. There is no civilised alternative. There is a price, however."
"Oh?"
"We observed you using an advanced anti-missile device during the fight. We want it. If you give it to us then we will also assist in repairing your ship and returning those who wish to go through your 'gateway'."
"Fine by me," Kirrik replied after a moment's thought.
"You surprise me," Marchero noted.
Kirrik sighed. "It's common technology back home, and the version in that ship is a standard one. I doubt you could slip an invasion fleet through that gate, and we'll be watching it from now on."
"If you get back," Silsi reminded him.
"The only way any threat is going to get to us," he continued, ignoring Silsi, "is through the Thargoids, and anyone who can manage that would probably end up with an ECM anyway. As well as impossibly strong ships."
"Thargoids?" the commander interrupted.
"The ECM anti-missile system was originally a Thargoid device that the Navy copied from captured ships."
"You're all forgetting something," Marchero pointed out smugly.
"Oh?"
"The Constrictor is obviously still around, and intact, otherwise he wouldn't be able to ask for bits of it."
"Correct," the alien informed her. "We grappled onto it and jumped here. That is why we are here. With the extra mass and the additional distortion to the Witchspace geometry we could not do more than make it a short way out of the area. Our hyperdrive burned out, which is why we are still here. A repair vessel has been summoned. Your ship is badly damaged, but not beyond repair, although it is of unusual technology and the quality of the repairs cannot be guaranteed."
They continued to discuss plans for some time. Some of them clearly wanted to stay, probably for the chance of having a clean criminal record. Kirrik, having no connections whatsoever with Sol and the surrounding area, and with a nagging sense of duty, wanted to return to the Galactic CoOperative as soon as possible. Others decided to wait a little and see what the place was like.
The repair dock was part of a huge station complex that could have accommodated a Dodo-type space station somewhere in its midst. The dull brown sphere of the third planet of Psi5 Aurigae lurked below, its small asteroid-sized moon a dark blob racing across the surface.
Somewhere in the tangle of station modules and docking arms the Constrictor was docked, with swarms of robots and living mechanics working on it around the clock. Its ECM system had been removed immediately upon arrival and quickly whisked away elsewhere. Kirrik attempted to supervise the work, but aside from clearing up the odd confusion about various basic aspects of the vessel's design he was unable to provide much help.
The station was primarily a naval facility, but it appeared that private ships made use of its services from time to time, and there was an area set aside for their crews' use. The Constrictor crew had been quartered here, and had not been given access to anywhere else except for passage to the repair bay. In this area were a variety of shops, restaurants, bars, libraries, and so on. There was also a large park area whose day and night illumination seemed to be out of sync with the rest of the station's twenty-six hour system.
To the fascination of some, and the complete disinterest of others, they soon discovered that this was because it was lit on a twenty-four cycle for the benefit of its flora and fauna, which notices claimed to be exclusively from Earth. A cynical Arrachachak claimed they were no more interesting than the lifeforms from many other worlds, although even he turned to glance at a particularly exotic-looking bird.
After so long spent in the confines of spacecraft and the untidy cave on their asteroid most of them took to spending long hours in the park, often in the cafes and bars that lined the side of it. In payment for their assistance and the ECM they had all been provided with a generous credit to spend during their stay.
If the timing was right and the station facing the right direction the coverings over the park's roof were opened, allowing the natural sunlight of Psi5 Aurigae to stream in. Despite the background noise of the station and the shadows of the latticework of thick reinforcing beams in the ceiling a person with imagination, standing at the right place and looking in the right direction, could almost pretend they were on a world's surface. Earth's surface.