back of the crowd. At first she’d felt nothing but joy at the
news of the ship’s return, but the rumours of the high death
tolls had disturbed her. She told herself over and over, if
anyone could survive, it would be Up - but still she was
afraid. If that ship landed and he wasn’t on it...
She couldn’t face the possibility. And then - what if he
was? What would she say to him? The starship, battered
and war torn, eased into the docking station to vivid cheers.
There was a hiss, and the door began to open.
And Taz, the toughest son of a bitch Ranger in the whole
damn Academy, turned and ran.
It was a hero’s welcome, but Up had never felt less like
one as he blinked and stepped into the first natural
atmosphere he’d breathed in three years. Eighty-four
Rangers left out of four hundred and seventy three, the ship
hanging together with string and wire. He was lauded,
praised, fawned over. The Admiral spoke loudly of medals
and parades. As he stepped off the ship’s ramp, he sagged a
little, and a feeling of fatigue overtook him. He’d done
what he’d set out to do – he’d brought his ship home.
Everyone wanted a piece of him. Their words stumbled
over each other and every time he nodded in false
understanding the crowd cheered anew. Camera flashes
blinded him. He scanned the mass of gathered faces for the
one that had haunted him for the entire mission. She wasn’t
there.
It was a long time before Up was able to excuse himself,
pleading exhaustion and promising to give the Admiral a
full debriefing the next day. A starstruck lieutenant showed
him to his new quarters, and he sat down long enough to
gather himself before getting up again and listening for
movement in the halls. He cautiously opened the door.
Finding the hallways thankfully deserted, most people