three years.”
Pedro had grown up a lot since the dumpster incident so
long ago. She wouldn’t go so far as to call them friends, but
some of the animosity between them had faded. Some of it.
He came over now, and put his hands on her shoulders.
She froze at the contact. She could smell his cologne, a
pungent, sickly smell. He was too close. “Taz - you’ve got
to let it go.”
She pushed him away from her, and left the bunk,
wanting to get as far away from him as possible. But she
could never get far enough from the truth in his words.
Commander Up stood on the bridge of his broken ship
and watched the familiar constellations draw infinitesimally
closer. The Eagle shuddered, and he patted her respectfully.
“C’mon, girl,” he said. “We’re so close.”
“Satellite range approaching in five, sir,” Ensign
Matthews said from the communication station. “Message
ready to be transmitted to G.L.E.E. headquarters.”
“Alert me when it’s time,” he said, and turned back to
the viewscreen. They were still too far away, of course, but
he could almost imagine that he could see it: Earth, shining
blue and green like a beacon of hope in the great black void
that was all his ship had known for three years. The crew
was silent. This moment was theirs as much as his.
The Eagle was running on one engine, half a warp
crystal, and the ingenuity of a skeleton crew with one
singular goal: to bring her home. They’d found the robot’s
base star, yes they had, and when their cloaking device
failed, they found themselves exposed and vastly
outmatched. The casualties had been staggering, and had
included their Commander, which was how Up had found
himself unexpectedly promoted and in command of the
entire mission. It had taken an ion storm and a daring