Okay. So -- some of that movement's definitely on him, then; the stars move above them way more rapidly than Dejah implies, like they're following the path of his spinning head. But every third blink or so, they steady themselves, returning to the same slow plod as Earth's stars.

Completely different constellations, though. That's Mars, he thinks. A tiny piece of it; a tiny preview.

"Wow," he breathes, and hugs Dejah tighter.