After spending a few days on Cape Soya, Ze'ev was ready to move. He didn't want to put his old friends on Cape Soya in danger, and he didn't know who would be trying to track him. Ze'ev knew he couldn't risk staying in Kusari. Even with all those who would still give him aid, he was too well known in Kusari, it wouldn't take long for word to reach the Emperor himself that Ze'ev wasn't dead. Ze'ev wasn't ready for that to happen yet. In time.
Ze'ev launched into the cloud, thinking where he could go where he could lay low and be safe. He knew the Fool would always have him in Baffin, but that was a bit too close to Kusari for his tastes. The Omicrons were always a place a man could hide, and he still had some contacts on the Council of Elders. Ze'ev had never much cared for the Omicrons. He had always felt at home with the Gaians. Although those relations had been stressed during his time with the Empire. Maybe it was time to head back to the Green Hell and check on his ole friends. Ze'ev quickly shot off a message to the Gaians and set a course.
As he flew, memories flooded Ze'ev's mind. He was still having trouble decoding the memories, little snippets of images, voices. It was taking Ze'ev longer than he had expected to shake these feelings.
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