Aboard the Zara vi-Pol there echoed the soft hum of cleaning equipment. It came from the 544th level; moreover from a hunched and swaying insectoid pushing along a device that scoured each surface clean at a microbial scale. 

The top of its three eyes slowly rose from the instrument's controls and watched a holofeed display of the ship's surroundings. It'd been many a cycle since he'd been so close to home. Garri, a Kilimaran entering the winter of his life, set the machine to standby and gave a conspicuous look in separate directions. 

He removed a polished gourd from between the chitinous plates of his chest and emptied its contents in a large draught. Garri's mandibles preened themselves in deep satisfaction as a fissure cracked Kilimara in half before it exploded from the raw might of idiocy. Gurgles rose in his throat before Garri emptied the contents of his digestive sac all over the corridor's walls before falling unconscious. 

He awoke in a fugue, unsure how much time had passed since... His home... Gone... His connection... 

Garri clutched at the stone that was meant to burn til his transition to his next state of being. An all too familiar warmth flowed through him.