Minai Desert, Hakar, Senes, Stardate 2281.199

Due to the flatness of the landscape, Losha could see Inz Raan long before the bus arrived there. At first it appeared as a bump on the horizon, barely distinguishable from the desert floor. It was the same color as the sand but there were bits of color here and there. When they got much closer, Losha could make out the bits of color - laundry hanging on lines and clothing worn by prisoners walking around in the massive fenced yard surrounding the main building. There were about a dozen smaller buildings outside the confines of the fence - the homes and offices of those who worked there. The buildings were all made of thick stone, which gave them the appearance of being ancient, though in actuality they had been built less than a hundred years ago.

At its peak occupancy nearly seventy years ago, Inz Raan held nearly a thousand prisoners. Its location, however, made it strategically difficult to maintain. It was out in the open desert, five hours from the nearest town. It had been from that town, Limiss, that the bus carrying Losha and the other visitors had departed that morning. The designers of the prison had rightly assumed that a journey of several days through an unforgiving desert would be a deterrent to most potential escapees. During the recent civil war only the most dangerous political prisoners had been housed there; non-political prisoners had been moved to smaller jails and prisons closer to civilization. Now, however, more prisoners were being moved to Inz Raan every day to ease overcrowding elsewhere.

As the bus drew up near the area where its occupants would be let out, the blandness of everything around him was further cemented in Losha's mind. How awful it would be to live in this landscape where even the buildings were the same color as the sand. The brightly colored clothing worn by the inmates was not typical of current Hakar fashion. At first he considered that maybe the prisoners preferred such colors because they were the only thing that brought them variety and cheerfulness in the otherwise dull landscape. Then he realized, however, that it was more likely the bright colors meant the guards could easily spot them.

This realization was confirmed when the bus came to a stop and a guard wearing sand-colored clothing climbed aboard. He informed them that prior to entering the prison grounds, they would enter the building on the left, inform the guard at the desk whom they were visiting, and be scanned for contraband. The guard had clearly given the same speech dozens of times before and some of the bus's occupants had clearly heard it dozens of times because they continued to chatter while he talked.

After passing through the scanners, Losha and the other visitors were allowed to walk through the gate into the prison grounds. The guard at the desk had informed Losha that the prisoners receiving visitors would be informed and could be found in a large hall inside the main building which other guards would direct them to. It took some time to get through the scanners as most of the other visitors had brought boxes and packages along with them and these all had to be scanned and examined as well. It hadn't even occurred to Losha to bring anything for Joa. Since he had been informed of Yeshayn's death three days ago, he had been in a complete haze. He couldn't even really say what he was thinking as he approached the large main building.

Guards then directed him and the others down a hallway that bisected the building and through a door on the left about halfway down the hallway. Both the hallway and the room he then entered had high ceilings and sound echoed all around them. It was a large room with many long benches and he could see prisoners beginning to trickle in through a doorway in the back right corner. As they recognized their family members or friends, visitors rushed up to greet them. Losha stood off to the right so as not to be in the way of visitors who were coming in behind him.

He stared at the doorway in the corner, scanning each face that came out. Eventually he recognized Joa, wearing a bright blue shirt and purple pants. He immediately thought of a similarly colored blue sweater that Joa had frequently worn when they were children. The color suited him. Joa quickly noticed Losha standing off to the side and a great grin crept across his face. He strode toward him, his arms out, but dropped them to his side and paused when we was within a few meters of Losha, discerning his unease.

"Don't I look ridiculous in these pants?" He grinned. Losha gave him a weak smile in reply. It was still the same Joa, he told himself, but he wasn't completely reassured.

"I was beginning to think you'd never come to see me." As Joa's smile faded, he looked at Losha wistfully.

"I should have come sooner," was all Losha could manage in reply.

"You're afraid of me, aren't you?"

"No." It was the truth; he wasn't afraid of Joa, he just didn't know who he was anymore or how to react to him.

"Maybe not afraid but you aren't sure whether I am the same Joa you've known all these years," he said, sighing. Joa could read him so well. "I've done a terrible thing. I killed someone. It's hard for me to even believe. But I am still the same person."

Losha didn't know what to say so he said nothing. He wasn't angry with Joa, he understood it had not been intentional. He had heard the whole story from Malar. Joa had been high at the time and had gotten into an argument with a man over money or sur or both. He had taken out his phaser and vaporized the man. He'd told Malar that he didn't really think the phaser would kill him though he had known it was set on kill. He'd told her the whole thing seemed like a dream.

Losha knew this feeling - of being on sur and feeling as if he was watching everything happening from outside of his body. No, he wasn't angry at Joa, but he had a horrible feeling about the whole situation. He could very well have been in Joa's place right now had he been the one who had gotten into an argument with some man while he'd been high. That was the main source of his unease - knowing that some part of him was just as capable of vaporizing someone as Joa had been.

"Strange, when we last met, our positions were reversed, weren't they?" Joa tilted his head. He was referring to the fact that seven months earlier, Joa had been the one visiting Losha when he'd been detained at Jail Number Six in Undaa. That was the last time they'd seen each other. Joa had been arrested a short time after that and by the time Losha was released from jail, Joa had been moved to Inz Raan to serve out a thirty year sentence.

"Yes. You always came to visit me. I should have come sooner. I'm sorry." Remorse washed over him. He had been feeling guilty about not visiting Joa because Malar had done her best to make him feel guilty. Now, however, he felt true remorse. Joa *had* always come to visit him, each of the three times he'd been detained there, even when he'd only been serving a thirty day sentence.

"It's alright. I'm glad you're here now." He smiled his big wide smile again. "Do you want to sit down somewhere?"

"If you like, but I'm tired of sitting after being on that bus for so long."

"I get tired of sitting here too. We'll stand then, for now." Losha nodded his head. "Your father's come back. Malar told me!"

"Yes, he had me released from jail. It was kind of a shock."

"You still seemed pretty shocked. But you must be happy?" Joa asked questioningly.

"Yes... It's just complicated." He hadn't come here to discuss his father with Joa. It hadn't even occurred to him that Joa would ask about him but of course he would. Joa cared about him and wanted him to be happy. "We can talk about him another time. I actually came to talk to you about something else."

"What?" He seemed eager to hear the reason and that made telling it so much more difficult.

"There was an accident. An old explosive on Maret Street went off. It killed three people." He had practiced the words hundreds of times in his head but he couldn't finish them.

"Yes?" Joa still wore the puzzled look on his face.

"It killed Yeshayn. She was one of the three people."

"What?"

"Yeshayn's dead. I'm sorry to have to tell you this."

"What about Naalem?"

"He wasn't there. He's fine. He's with Yeshayn's friend Polan. She's the one who told me."

"When did this happen?"

"Four days ago."

"She's really dead?"

"Yes."

Later, Losha couldn't really remember much of the other things he and Joa had discussed that day. Probably they hadn't discussed much at all. They were both in shock. Joa and Yeshayn hadn't been married, hadn't even been in love. They had been using each other for sur and other drugs and sex. Her relationship with Joa had been virtually over when she'd become pregnant with Naalem. Though he knew that Joa hadn't been in love with Yeshayn - he'd often expressed his regret that he'd ever gotten involved with her - he also knew that the news of her death must have been very difficult for him to hear. She was the mother of his son, after all.

Losha hadn't known Yeshayn very well even though he had spent a good deal of time in her company after she and Joa had met. He had liked her well enough but as with most of the people he had hung around in those days, he'd only known her on a superficial level. Sur was the only thing they'd had in common. And after she'd become pregnant, Yeshayn had stopped using sur and stopped hanging around them. He'd only occasionally seen her after that. She had always been kind to him, though, and seemed genuinely happy to see him when they did happen to cross paths.

One thing Losha did remember from that first visit to Inz Raan was repeatedly attempting to reassure Joa that he would take care of Naalem. Polan had agreed to keep him temporarily but he could not remain with her indefinitely. That had been the main cause of his shock. He hadn't been close enough to Yeshayn to feel any kind of great pain at her death - he'd seen too many people die to be affected by it - but the fact that he was now responsible for Naalem was something he hadn't completely accepted yet. Even as he reassured Joa he found he had no idea how he would fulfill his promises to him. The situation seemed completely unrealistic.

On the bus ride back to Limiss, Joa found that some of the emptiness he had been feeling on the ride to Inz Raan earlier that day had lifted. Joa was still Joa, despite what he had done, and that reassuring. He had been telling the truth when he'd told Joa that the situation with his father was complicated. It had been three months since he'd been reunited with his father after a nearly twelve year separation. It had been just a few months before his eleventh birthday when his father had left Senes. The war had prevented him from returning sooner.

So much had happened in those twelve years. He had grown up and was no longer the child his father had known. He hadn't just grown up but he had become a completely different person. He was also beginning to realize that his father was a different person too. Not that his father had necessarily changed the way he had - much about him was exactly as Losha remembered him - but that his ten-year-old self had never really understood the person his father was to begin with.