Jyra woke the next morning, unaware of where she was until she glimpsed the distant ceiling in the dim light. Waking up in the captain’s quarters was so surreal, she wasn’t sure she would ever get used to it. The unfamiliarity coupled with the demanding day ahead gave Jyra no time to further explore her new room. She dressed in a hurry and headed for the cargo bay.
As she moved down the passage, she noticed all the occupied crew quarters from the previous night were empty. Even Meriax was gone, as were the sterile sheet barriers to the makeshift operating area.
Only when Jyra turned into the cargo bay did Jyra finally see another person. Sunlight spilled through the large open door and Jyra approached Leonick, who was working on the door control panel.
“Good morning, captain,” he said.
“You don’t need to call me that,” Jyra said. “And good morning to you.”
“I thought you would appreciate being able to bypass the autolock during our space transit,” Leonick said, preempting Jyra’s inquiry about his work.
“Turning the whole cargo bay into an airlock?”
Leonick nodded.
“As long as you do not mind,” Leonick said. “Serana mentioned something about a mission today while patients were moved off the ship.”
“That’s fine,” Jyra said, amazed that Serana was awake before her. “We discussed as much last night.”
“She requested a favor,” Leonick said and he gestured to the open panel. “I thought this might be a useful modification regardless of your decision.”
“What did she want?”
“Captain on deck!” Berk called, startling them both.
“Do that again and you can find yourself another ship,” Jyra said, hoping Leonick had jumped more than she had; unlikely since he continued methodically turning a terminal screwdriver.
“Flexing the muscle of your command already,” Berk said, striding toward her. “How’d you sleep, captain?”
“None of your business,” Jyra said. “And keep the title to yourself.”
“Noted,” Berk said.
“Where is everyone?” Jyra asked.
“Mostly moved into the bunker,” Berk said. “Where else would they go?”
“Maybe another ship,” Jyra said.
“Serana wants to know if you are willing to bring the dead with us and release them beyond the trash ring,” Leonick said.
Jyra was taken aback by both the message and Leonick’s matter-of-fact delivery. Her mind snapped to watching Macnelia’s body, surrendered to the stars in the same fashion. She immediately tried to weigh the emotional and practical significance and, nearly in the same breath, questioned her fitness to be captain. But she was already nodding.
“Of course we will,” she said.
“They are already on board,” Leonick continued. “We will have help moving them here from the engine room before takeoff.”
Jyra nodded still more vigorously.
“The inner doors to the cargo bay aren’t airlock-rated,” she said, trying to ground herself with practicality. “We won’t damage the ship opening the main door in space?”
“Open the door and take a hard turn should do the job,” Berk said, leaning against the wall and staring out into the courtyard. “Duct dampers ought to seal relatively well so we won’t vent all of our air.”
Jyra glanced around the cargo bay, noting the secured crates, certain they would stay put. Her eyes flicked to the ceiling and, amazed she hadn’t noticed it sooner, saw Berk’s pod suspended from the beam hoist. Several guy cables stretched to the walls to keep the small vehicle from swinging during flight.
“What’s that doing up there?” Jyra asked.
“We needed more room,” Berk said shortly.
“For what?” Jyra asked.
“Permission to delay that discussion until we’re airborne?” Berk said.
“We’ll see,” Jyra said. “Any estimate when that will be?”
“An hour or two,” Berk said. “However long it takes to move the bodies and any other business you need to settle before we go.”
Kip happened to step out of shuttle in the courtyard at that moment. Jyra assumed he’d been helping move more valuable ships into the forest.
“I do need to check in with Serana,” Jyra said, hoping the others hadn’t noticed her watching Kip.
“We can’t leave without you,” Berk said. “Seriously, we don’t know where we’re going.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Jyra said. “We’ll need to come up with a complete strategy once we’re in space.”
Jyra found Serana in the mess hall. It felt like a basement more than other rooms in the bunker due to the sizable area of the floor, but the ceiling was just as high as everywhere else in the compound. Similar sterile sheets that hung in Mastranada cordoned off a corner of the room, though some patients were sitting on benches at the long tables. One woman stared straight ahead, her head and left arm wrapped in bandages. A man slumped over on a table, apparently asleep. Jyra thought he was snoring but it was just the sound of his ragged breathing.
Serana emerged from behind the sterile barrier, wiping her brow. She looked exhausted, but she smiled when she saw Jyra and made her way over.
“How are you?” she said.
“Nervous,” Jyra said. She almost reciprocated the question, but the answer seemed obvious.
“Yoke is finishing up with the last patient,” Serana said after an extended silence.
“I didn’t realize operations were being moved off the ship,” Jyra said. “Sorry I slept through it.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Serana said. “Just make sure you make it back.”
“I don’t want to leave you or them,” Jyra whispered, indicating the patients at the table.
“You don’t have to,” Serana said. “Did Leonick pass along my request?”
“He did and we’ll do it,” Jyra said, suddenly finding it difficult to speak.
“I’ll get some people to assist,” Serana said. “Will you be ready in ten minutes?”
Jyra nodded. Serana reached out and took her hand.
“See you after your mission,” she said. Jyra couldn’t help feel boosted by Serana’s iron confidence.
“See then,” Jyra said. “Heal fast.”
She turned before Serana could see her gathering tears and made her way back to Mastranada.
She didn’t get far. Meriax was stretched out on a table near the door and wall. Unless Jyra had looked to her right as she entered, she wouldn’t have seen her. Meriax was fast asleep, her hair tumbled off the edge of the table. It seemed odd for an ex-spy to lower all defenses in such an exposed location, but Serana spoke over Jyra’s shoulder.
“I’ve spread the word about her declaring for us,” she said.
“Thank you.” Jyra wasn’t sure how she managed the words and she wasted no time leaving the mess hall.
“That didn’t take long,” Berk said when Jyra reappeared in the cargo bay.
“We’ll have help in a few minutes,” she said. The significance of fulfilling Serana’s favor struck her and she fell silent. Jyra twisted her fingers together and walked toward the rear corridor. She heard Berk’s footsteps, unusually soft, following.
Jyra reached the door. She glanced down the passage to the engine room entrance and discovered she couldn’t proceed.
Jyra had witnessed more death than the average person in the galaxy. She watched family, friends, and enemies die and her brother was the worst loss. Too much time passed between the news of his death and the funeral. Jyra never forgot catching a glimpse of his ragged body disappearing beneath the lid of the coffin.
The idea of the dead waiting to be released locked Jyra in place. She hadn’t gone into the engine room since it was repurposed as a morgue. That realization reminded Jyra of the night she and Berk stole this ship, which they managed by killing a guard in the engine room. She had no idea how the bodies were arranged or organized. Had they even been identified?
“You all right?” Berk asked from behind Jyra, who shook her head. She wasn’t sure what to ask, but willed herself to say something.
“How are the bodies?” she said.
“Each one is in a bag,” Berk said. “Folks came through to identify them all. Serana’s got a list. She mentioned the names read out last night match the list of those accounted for.”
Jyra nodded as a Berk fell silent.
“You don’t have to help with this,” Berk said.
“I must,” Jyra said, nodding toward the engine room. “Because they helped me.”
Serana’s team arrived just as Leonick replaced the door panel cover. Jyra and Berk led the way to the engine room.
One of the volunteers passed out masks before Jyra opened the door and switched on the lights. The astringent smell of the dead along with disinfectants and other treating agents Yoke employed stopped her. She couldn’t detect the odor of hot steel or grease under the suffocating horror that infiltrated the mask and filled her nose and lungs. She felt the group behind her shudder as the stench enveloped them.
A pair each seized a bag and carried it to the cargo bay. They stacked the bags near the open door. Jyra tried to maintain her attention to the dead, to honor the bodies she transported, but she couldn’t ignore her desperation to escape the smell.
The shrouded bodies resembled a wall of sandbags by the time they finished. The wrinkles in the black plastic gleamed, reflecting the lights overhead. Jyra managed to croak a hasty thanks at the retreating volunteers. The trio ran to the back passage and on toward the bow of the ship, closing every door behind them.
The bridge seemed unchanged from the last time Jyra saw it. Two main consoles sat on either side of the room. Six panels of reinforced glass stretched over Jyra’s head and curved down to terminate on the nose of the ship. The gray beams framing the glass were attached to the open steel studs, which had auxiliary equipment and control panels crammed between them.
Jyra pulled her mask free, staggered across the steel floor, and grabbed the edge of the starboard console. Leonick’s eyes were wide with uncharacteristic distress and most of the color disappeared from beneath Berk’s whiskers. Leonick shook his head, took a seat at a new set of controls behind Berk, and began strapping himself into his seat. Jyra automatically sat down, making a deliberate effort to not throw up; she could still taste the smell.
“Taking off?” she gasped. She was too distracted to bother inquiring about the function of Leonick’s new console. ‘
“I mean no disrespect by saying this,” Berk said, “I want to get those bodies into space as soon as we can.”
“Do not forget to close the cargo door, then,” Leonick said. “The ship will not do it for you now.”
Jyra thought of Kip and failing to say goodbye to him, but it couldn’t be remedied. They were set to depart and further delay offered no advantage.
“Let’s go,” Jyra said, throwing the switches to power the launch thrusters.
“Cargo bay is sealed,” Berk said. “Ready for thrust.”
Jyra felt the ship shudder around here and the distant trees lurched from sight as the launch thrusters boosted Mastranada off the ground.
Jyra squinted at the harsh blue sky before her as the ship shot upward, sweeping away from the planet. Within seconds, the blue yielded and the booster engine kicked in, jerking Mastranada closer to space. The nose of the ship glowed a brilliant orange and Jyra felt the gusts of heat penetrating into the cockpit. Then the silence settled as they transitioned to space. The sea of stars materialized, floating in endless darkness. But there was something else. Though it formed an incomplete loop around the planet, Jyra’s emergency escape vessel had been lucky to miss the trash ring during the approach. Ships five times the size of Mastranada could be destroyed or crippled by the larger pieces of refuse lazily orbiting Silanpre.
Jyra stiffened in her seat as she saw running lights moving through the revolving landfill.
“Another tug,” Berk grunted.
“You said you took a couple of them out,” Jyra recalled. “This ship doesn’t have projectile weapons.”
“She does now,” Berk said.
“After we pass the ring, you guys get to tell your story first.”
“Whatever you say, captain,” Berk said.
“Will they come after us?” Jyra said.
“We aren’t on their scopes yet,” Berk said.
“We can see them which means they can see us,” Jyra said.
“Yeah, but they have no idea what we are,” Berk said. “They have limited radar and tracking. Tugs don’t monitor traffic, just keep the trash contained or remove suspicious debris. They won’t be interested in us.”
“Even though this ship destroyed two of theirs?”
“If that one comes at us, we can destroy it,” Berk said, popping a cork out of a bottle that, as far as Jyra could tell, just appeared in his hand. As an afterthought, he added, “with the captain’s approval.”
Jyra hoped the tug maintained its current course. Several sharp taps on the glass overhead made her start.
“What was that?” she said.
“Small debris on its way back to the planet,” Leonick said. “We are passing through a field of smaller refuse. We need to plot a course through or around the main ring.”
“Working on it,” Berk said. “Almost a straight shot from here.”
“Radar warning!” Jyra said. “We’ve got another ship closing fast.”
“Leonick, lock onto them!” Berk shouted.
Jyra glanced over her shoulder and watched Leonick swivel in his chair to face a tiny targeting screen, the purpose of the new console no longer a mystery.
“Maybe the tugs remember you after all,” Jyra said to Berk, who took another long pull from the bottle.
“They won’t for long. And it’s not a tug.”
“They’re summoning by radio,” Jyra said, as the signal light blinked before her.
“Ignore them,” Berk said.
Jyra leaned forward to block the transmission request and remembered her place on the ship. She pressed the button and seized the broadcast mouthpiece.
“Captain of the Mastranada here.”
Berk and Leonick both stared at her in utter disbelief.
“Intriguing,” a deep voice replied. “Calling yourself captain of my ship. It’s time you returned it to its rightful owner.”
Jyra glanced at Leonick, keeping her line silent.
“You recognize his voice?”
“No,” Leonick said. “I just wanted people to buy my engines. Buyers could install them wherever and whenever they pleased.”
“I know you have no weapons so affirm your surrender or I will destroy that ship of mine and whoever happens to be aboard,” the voice threatened.
“Got a lock?” Berk said over his shoulder.
“Just about,” Leonick said. “They are almost in range.”
“How long?” Jyra said.
“Twenty seconds,” Leonick answered.
Jyra made eye contact with her shipmates as she sent another transmission.
“I think you’re mistaken,” she said.
“There’s no mistake,” the voice said. “That’s my ship. Do you surrender?”
Leonick gave a thumbs up and leaned toward his screen.
“You are wrong to suggest we have no weapons,” Jyra said.
“Ready to fire on your command,” Leonick called, loud enough to be heard through the transmission.
Jyra listened to the mechanical thumps and grinding of missile launchers targeting the enemy. The transmission light clicked off.
“Fire,” Jyra muttered. She felt Mastranada shudder from the launcher recoil.
A pair of missiles streaked toward the ring and, against the backdrop of twisted steel structures and industrial refuse, Jyra saw a ship maneuvering. The explosives faded into the distance. The target ship negotiated an evasive turn and everyone aboard Mastranada watched the glowing exhaust ports.
“If they get into the ring, the missiles could hit something else,” Jyra said.
“They won’t make it,” Berk said.
“Direct hit,” Leonick reported.
The distant exhaust ports flickered and then two drifted away from each other. Stuttering flames shot into space as the enemy ship broke apart. The debris spun toward the ring, briefly lit by fires that flashed into existence before suffocating without oxygen.
“Course is set,” Berk said. “Let’s go.”
Mastranada glided toward a tangled mass of steel beams. Jyra fixated on them, trying to figure out what purpose they might have served. Most details hid in the gloom; only a few edges of the beams caught the reflected light from Silanpre with enough sequenced timing to discern shapes.
As they neared the orbiting waste, Jyra heard Leonick’s chair squeak and she turned to see him staring at his screen.
“What’ve you got?”
“I am not sure,” Leonick said. “Some abnormal heat readings from the ring.”
“Probably just the wreckage,” Berk said.
“He recognized the ship,” Leonick said.
“Whoever he was, he’s dead,” Berk said.
“The weapons dealer,” Leonick said.
“What?” Berk and Jyra said together.
“He tracked us here,” Leonick said. “And it is possible this was his ship you two stole from Drometica. That is where we went for the goods.”
“What are you talking about?” Jyra asked.
“That ship must have chaos mines on board,” Leonick said. “Proceed with caution.”
“Chaos mines?” Jyra said, annoyed that her questions went unanswered. Berk heard the irritation in her words.
“Warship crews scatter them on the outside of their ship’s hulls,” he said. “Should such a ship suffer damage, resulting explosions arm the mines and they drift through space, wrecking or ravaging whatever they happen to strike. We’re going to wait here for a moment.”
“You’re saying we could have mines coming at us right now?” Jyra said. “Can we track them?”
“We can with the new tech,” Berk said.
“You two definitely have to explain what you’ve been up to before you hear my story,” Jyra said. “Captain’s orders.”
Berk chuckled as he took another pull from his bottle.
“The power’s already going to your head,” he said, dropping the empty container into a bin next to his chair.
“Leonick, you’ve got eyes out there?” Berk said.
“I will detect anything harmful in time to avoid it,” Leonick replied, his fingers tapping across his keyboard.
“Do you mind if I tell the story?” Berk asked.
“You have the eloquence and voice for it,” Leonick said as he raised the sensitivity ratings on their scopes.
“After Leonick blasted you into space, we didn’t last much longer under Craig’s leadership,” Berk said.
Jyra felt the name of her former friend strike her in the gut. She never thought of him once she adjusted to life on Silanpre. Even with Berk and Leonick’s return, she only considered him in the context of the TF resistance. But Craig had become the leader of that movement following Macnelia’s death and he locked her in her quarters. When she thought of him, all she saw was his black hair and equally dark sneer.
“Getting rid of you was his first extreme act and more followed faster than I would have thought,” Berk continued.
“Not me,” Leonick said. “That is why I got you out. He and Shandra were both shaken by the loss of Macnelia. We all were. But the two of them created a toxic loop of vengeful logic and action.”
“What do you mean?” Jyra said.
“Craig was convinced the Nilcyn attack on the TF fleet was far more effective than our assault on their headquarters,” Berk said.
“The Nilcyn strike took out shipments and gave us cover, but we eradicated documents and offices. We attacked the heart of TF. Archives of programs, drilling data, all kinds of information blown out of existence. He even pressed the button to drop the bomb.”
“I agree with you obviously,” Berk said. “TF probably is still suffering from repercussions of what we did to them. The Nilcyn attack is likely while we’re even alive discussing this. The problem is the optics. Craig came away believing the ship-to-ship battles made for a greater spectacle of superiority.”
“The resistance is about taking out TF entirely, not who wins a battle,” Jyra said.
“So we all thought,” Berk said. “Craig had different ideas. The Nilcyn attack made an impression on him.”
“What did he do, join them?” Jyra said, hoping her sarcasm wouldn’t be met with a grave nod.
“He may as well have,” Berk said.
“What?”
“He decided to create his own militia,” Leonick said.
“He figured a captured TF freighter could rally people to his cause,” Berk said. “We headed for Drometica and he offered to get the planet out from under TF’s expanding control. Horbson had just been hit by Nilcyns. He sold a number of Drometica inhabitants on his vision, building a militia almost identical to the Nilcyns. Somewhere in the middle of his endeavor, Leonick and I decided to leave.”
“That is not accurate,” Leonick said. Berk sighed.
“Craig sent us on a mission to retrieve weapons from a station adjacent to Drometica,” he said. “We took Mastranada, got the weapons, and never made it back to Craig. That’s why the pod is tied up. We had a full cargo bay.”
“We have incoming,” Leonick said. Jyra couldn’t understand the lack of alarm in his voice.
“Gun the starboard engine and they will miss us.”
Berk responded immediately and Jyra peered through the nearest porthole, wondering if she imagined the dark spheres looming out of the darkness. Mastranada lurched ahead and Jyra heard Leonick give a sigh of relief.
Just as they dodged the chaos mines, some of their fellows drifted into the trash ring. Jyra looked away as an orange-white glare spread before Mastranada. Mines detonated as they struck the space-bound refuse and the explosions compounded.
“Good thing we didn’t get any closer,” Berk said, squinting at the destruction.
“We need to move,” Leonick said. “Get out of the way. The trash ring was mostly contained, but now we are dealing with a cloud of sporadic fragments. Any piece could be big enough to hurt the ship.”
Within seconds of his warning, debris began tapping the cockpit glass as it sailed by.
Berk seized the controls and brought Mastranada to port, running parallel to the repeated explosions, lighting up the trash ring. As they burst out of the debris field, Jyra saw the running lights of at least four tugs. They were all parked near the ring and obviously keeping their distance.
“Any way through?” Berk asked Leonick.
“Potentially,” Leonick said. “The trash will thin out soon and you can fly under the ring. Give it another minute.”
“I don’t want those tugs to notice us,” Berk said.
“If you can see them, they can see us,” Leonick said.
“They might be distracted by their burning garbage,” Berk said.
“Slow down, then,” Leonick advised. “The opening is coming to us.”
The tugs remained in their position, even as the ring rotated nearby. Berk eased Mastranada closer to the arch of garbage and slid beneath it.
“We’ll head further into space and get our bearings,” Berk said.
“Because of the tugs?” Jyra said. “They don’t have weapons, do they?”
“No,” Berk said. “But I prefer they don’t summon something that does.”
“When you said you took a couple of them out, I assumed you rammed them or incapacitated them somehow. I didn’t realize you actually shot them down.”
“One of the benefits of having an armed ship,” Berk said.
“Did you get any other weapons during your rogue mission?” Jyra asked.
“We did, but none them will be of immediate use,” Berk said.
“More to say on that?”
Berk shook his head. Jyra decided to come back to that question later and let her curiosity guide the conversation.
“Where did you go after Drometica?” she said, glancing at the radar scope to make sure no one followed them as they pushed further into space.
“Mostly where we didn’t expect Craig would find us,” Berk said. “We knew we had to lay low for a while so we went to Jiranthem.”
“Macnelia’s home planet,” Jyra said.
“Leonick knew of a couple places there where we could hide out,” Berk said. “Eventually we started hearing reports of Craig and his new militia. They call themselves Kytes, no doubt inspired by the bomb that we used on TF headquarters on Tyrorken. They have a logo and everything.”
“I wonder why they haven’t visited Silanpre?” Jyra said. “I never heard of them.” She was delighted to at last catch up with Berk and Leonick. The shock of learning what became of Craig and the others, tempered the joy. Berk was already answering her last question and she had to make a conscious effort to listen.
“The Allied Hospitals are known for their medical prowess in the galaxy. Their militant security is just as famous. A small group like the Kytes, even the Nilcyns, would think twice before attacking Silanpre. It’s lucky we were close enough to it when you escaped so that you wound up on a planet Craig was most unlikely to visit.”
“What happened to the others?” Jyra said.
“We assume Shandra is with Craig,” Leonick said. “Neeka and Derek defected, too. I hacked into a public docking log on Jiranthem and saw their names from a day or so earlier. We just missed them.”
“How do you know they’ve quit?” Jyra asked. “Maybe they were after you and Berk.”
“We had a few brief chats before Berk and I left for our mission,” Leonick said. “Neither she nor Derek were pleased with where Craig was taking the resistance. Seeing their names in the log indicates they got out alive.”
“What sort of reports did you hear about the Kytes?” Jyra said.
“Nothing flattering,” Berk said. “Sounds like they’re a bunch of petty criminals. They plunder small towns, board ships in space, and steal whatever they can.”
“To be fair, we did all of those things when I was part of the resistance,” Jyra said.
“Yeah, we took what we needed and I have misgivings about boarding Orasten for obvious reasons,” Berk said. “But the Kytes are more extreme. They capture people. They seize far more resources than necessary just to spread misery. Despite all that, their fleet and membership are both growing.”
“So how do we turn the Nilcyns and the Kytes against each other?” Jyra said, placing her boots on the console and leaning back in her seat. “That sounds like an excellent way to neutralize both threats.”
“It’s tempting,” Berk said. He drained the bottle and dumped it into a bin on the far side of his seat.
“Is that a cold box?” Jyra asked, peering past Berk’s faded boots.
“I don’t drink warm beer,” Berk said, producing a bottle from the black cube near his console. He opened it and took a mouthful.
“We added weapons and a cold box to the ship,” he said. “That’s all I’m aware of, but Leonick likes to keep his secrets.”
“I like your priorities,” Jyra said, rolling her eyes. “You said it’s tempting to turn the Nilcyns and Kytes against each other, but that doesn’t press the attack on TF.”
“Unless the Nilcyns and TF are working together,” Berk said. “All I want to know now is, are you ready to go after TF?”
Jyra didn’t answer. The decision seemed impossible to resolve and even as she thought of how the Allied Hospitals and TF might be connected, it was likely the path led away from Silanpre. The more she thought about it, the less likely she could see Serana abandoning her planet. At least she had one to fight for.
Berk saw Jyra’s furrowed brow and didn’t pressure her for an answer. He drained his bottle and it clanked against the other as he dropped it in the waste bucket.
“We have traveled beyond the pull of Silanpre,” Leonick announced.
Jyra heard the request in the tone.
“Right.”
Jyra got to her feet, realizing she didn’t have anywhere to go, but it seemed important to stand.
“Ready to open the cargo bay?” Jyra asked Berk.
“Ready when you are,” he said. “Prepared to make the turn.”
“Is there a…camera or a way to see?” Jyra said, aware of her hollow voice. Berk nodded. Jyra took a deep breath and placed a hand on the edge of the console for support.
“Open the door,” she commanded.
Thuds in the distance indicated the duct dampers swung shut.
“How is our air holding?” Leonick asked.
“Well enough,” Berk replied.
Jyra’s eyes pivoted to her screens. One showed the inside of the cargo bay. The bodies were no longer stacked on the floor. As Berk guided Mastranada to the right, the dead floated through the door and into space. The second screen on Jyra’s console showed footage from a camera mounted near the bow facing the stern. She watched as the dark bags, catching the light from the bay, drifted into the endless frontier.
“Peace to the fallen,” Jyra murmured, feeling the corners of her eyes sting.
“Ready to close the door,” Berk said, his voice barely above a whisper. Jyra nodded and she watched it glide shut. Leonick kept his head bowed toward his keyboard but his hands remained in his lap. Berk kept an elbow on his armrest and lowered his gaze.
“Thanks for making this possible,” Jyra said. She directed her attention to Leonick who glanced over his shoulder and gave a resolute nod. “Thanks for coming back,” she added to Berk. He leaned forward to open another bottle.
“We knew we wanted to, we just had to make it happen,” Berk said. “It was an honor to lay those folks to rest. They fought well against the first tyrannical business I’ve known.”
He raised his beer and took a long swig. Jyra returned to her seat, marveling how Berk’s carefree delivery almost made the statement disingenuous, but she knew he meant every word. Her crew worked quietly while Jyra leaned on her console. Her tears fell in the silence of the bridge and she made no sound as she watched the trail of bodies disappear from her screen.
I’m still here, she thought. It wasn’t the first time she found small comfort in those words and she suspected it wouldn’t be the last.