As the dragoons began returning at the end of starsweep, the cohort of new humans with their chaperone went to observe the enormous humanoid machines flying in formations. A careless observer might not notice anything unusual about the group of six people walking across the lawn under the transparent dome, but a more experienced eye could identify the slight stumbles and false starts betraying that despite their apparently adult bodies, five of these individuals are less than three standard years old.

The sixth was their chaperone, a monk named Maldan, who led them to a circular stone theatron directly under the dome, looking out into space, with a view of the orange and red binary stars. As the young men and women found their seats, Maldan reflected on the thousands of other stars he had viewed through this ancient portal. He had spent many of his days in this very spot, studying, working, falling in love, falling out of love, conversing with strangers, arguing with friends, and so on. The great stone seats with their window looking out was one of his favorite places, and a fit setting for the day's discussions.

The five youths finished sitting down, their attention on the spectacle of the dragoons, their hushed conversations touched with the excitement of a novel experience, so common and easily accessible at their tender age. Maldan sat with his legs crossed, waiting for the individual conversations to die down. These youngsters did not yet know the importance and necessity of the coming discussion.

The chatter slowed, then died altogether as the six sat in silence for a moment, watching a formation of five dragoons surrounding a much larger vessel, flying together towards a docking station beyond the edge of the domed window. As it passed, one of the young humans put his voice to a question. "How many starsweeps have there been?" Maldan met the youth's gaze for just a moment before the child averted his eyes.

An innocuous question. On its own it had no implications. These young humans, like all humans, had been given fully grown adult bodies at birth, and each had been gifted the capacity for language, at least enough language to describe most objects in their environments and their emotional states, which amounted to a large vocabulary but not nearly a complete one. From this starting point, they would learn their history, through readings and discussions with wizened individuals such as Maldan.

"That's an interesting question, Vint. I've personally seen twenty four thousand, eight hundred ninety three, not including this one. But I don't know how many were done before I was born. I never thought to check. Of course, this isn't the only place that humans call home. May I ask what prompted the question?"

Vint looked out of the window as he considered his reply. The young man was tall and slender, and he had let his black, curly hair fell almost to his shoulders. The hair, as well as his wild, bushy beard, must not have been cut since he had been decanted from the tanks. Despite the lad's unruly appearance, Maldan found himself impressed by Vint's composure, and almost indulged himself in a moment of affection for the younger man, but steeled his resolve. "Each time we travel to a new star system, our dragoons go out and gather raw materials from asteroids and moons and planets, while we orbit the star collecting light, storing energy to continue our journey, to another star, where we repeat the process. Starsweep. The reason I asked the question is that I don't understand why we need to take so much raw material from these systems. What are we using it for?"

"Our home is a modular starship, comprised of many thousands of segments that each has its own purpose. As the needs of the population of the ship change, different modules need to be built or reconfigured. The dragoons themselves need maintenance, sometimes we need to build new ones. Sometimes people decide that they want to stay in a star system, and we will build a home for them, another one like our starship, in case they want to go somewhere else someday."

Another of the young ones spoke up. "Why are they called dragoons? I looked up the word and I didn't fully understand the ancient meaning. I think it meant someone who rides a horse but the context didn't make sense to me." The querent this time was named Astia, and when Maldan turned to look at her, she held eye contact for nearly four seconds before casting her gaze towards the ground.

"It kind of sounds like dragon?" offered one of her peers, "Maybe they rode on dragons."

Maldan smiled. "That's a good guess, Rosh, but that's not quite it. It's a very old word, Astia, and yes, it referred to people who did their work on foot, but travelled on a horse or another vehicle. When the dragoons were first made, engine technology wasn't nearly as advanced as it is now, and the machine couldn't operate for long without refueling, and they didn't have enough range to travel long distances on their own, so they were paired with a ship that had fuel and could move around quickly, mounting and dismounting as needed, like the original dragoons."

Astia frowned. "No, I think I understood that part. What does "infantry" mean? Or "soldier"? I tried to look those words up but I couldn't find their definitions."

Here it was, the critical turn in the discussion, and Maldan was pleased that it had come so soon. "I'm afraid the answer to that question isn't very pleasant. You won't be able to get those answers from your interlace until someone has talked to you about it in person. All of you, look at me." Maldan turned to meet the eyes of each individual in the group, one at a time. They were ready.

"The truth is, a long time ago, but not long enough, humans killed other humans. When one human killed one other human, it was considered a great evil, and they called it murder. When a large group of humans killed another large group of humans, they considered it honorable and they called it war. Not all of them thought that way, but enough of them did. A soldier was someone whose job was killing other humans."

"That's terrible! Why did they do that?" Laelei asked.

"For resources, usually. Back then, they didn't have the technology we have, and they didn't know that a human is always home, anywhere in the universe. It's not an excuse, but people often went hungry, or didn't have a place to live. To secure these benefits for themselves, a society might decide to take them from others, at any cost."

"Why do we still call them that? I think that's horrible. I liked the idea of the starsweeps, sending brave pilots out to explore star systems and gather the raw materials that allow humans to make more homes. But we named them after murderers."

"That's not quite correct, Laelei. Remember the first dragoons, the ones that needed special transport vehicles? They were named that because they were originally used as weapons of war. But they obviously have vast utility outside of war, and the models developed for mining, exploration, and construction were also called dragoons. When we grew beyond war, the word had been used for both for so long that it didn't seem like a bad word anymore, and the other meaning faded away. People have discussed changing the name, but we decided to keep it, as a reminder."

"A reminder? I don't think I want to be reminded of something awful," Rosh said. "I'd rather not think about it." The other young man of the group kept his blond hair cut short and his face shaved, yet this was not the first time that Maldan found himself annoyed by Rosh's sloppy thinking and careless attitude. But more than annoyance, he felt fear that the young man's bright features hid a dark personality, one that could not be allowed to flourish.

"That is precisely why you must!" Maldan seethed. "No one wants to remember that humans once did terrible things, but without facing these truths, such things could happen again! That is the lesson of our ancestors that we carry with us to every star. Over and over, they thought they had conquered war, that they had evolved past it, that they didn't have to think about it anymore, but then it happened again, because they forgot how awful it was. So we have our reminder, but the name of a machine is not enough.

"The five of you have an important choice to make. You have learned enough of our history to decide whether you want to be a part of our society, or not. If you want to join us, you face a test." He pulled out an object from his pack, a band of green metal. "We call this device a mesh. When you were born, we used one to give you language. It interfaces with the brain directly, and can be used to stimulate the human nervous system to induce or remove memories, or to simulate any experience. There are many other uses, it is one of our most important technologies, and if you choose to join our society, you will gain access to all of these uses of the mesh.

"But in order to do so, as I said, you must pass a test, which will involve me using the mesh on you. This test will determine whether or not your personality is dangerous, whether or not allowing you into our society could cause war, or murder, or other forms of violence. I cannot tell you anything more about the test, but I cannot administer the test without your consent."

"What happens if we fail the test?" asked Astria

"That depends on you. We could alter your personality, change the parts that are dangerous. If you don't like that idea, the grove of repose will always be an option for any human. What do you think we did with all the humans who had killed other humans? We couldn't kill them, then we'd be no better than them. They're simply resting, waiting for a time when they can be with us again, or when we need them."

"Can we talk to them?" asked Rosh.

"If you want, I'm sure they would oblige," Maldan replied. "Let us go, then, it's a bit of a journey to the grove." Four of the young ones got up to follow, giving each other nervous and meaningful looks, but Shantih remained still, her eyes still fixed on the giant robots in the sky.

Maldan called her name. "Shantih?"

"No, I don't need to go. I mean, yes, I'll take the test. I don't care. Whatever. Change my personality if I fail. As long as I can do that," she said, pointing up at the dragoons.

"I want to be a dragoon pilot."