Salvador awoke with a tired body and sore testicles. With a groan, he sat up straight, taking in his surroundings. Unlike the last illicit encounter he had, he could definitely remember last night well. To his side, Xeena laid, awake.

  “Morning Xeen’”

  “Good morning, Sal. How are you doing?”

  “Well, I feel like my pelvis got introduced to a hydraulic press, and my nuts hurt, but yeah, I’m great.” He warmly smiled.

  Xeena giggled. “I’m glad you liked it. I thought you were…” She sat up and leant on his arm. “Magical.”

  They rested a while in each other’s arms, enjoying the atmosphere. However, a question that Sal felt he should have asked long before lingered in his mind.

  “Hey, Xeena?” Sal asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “You said Pippa was a bit young, right?”

  “Yeah, she’s still a juvenile? Why?”

  “Well… how old are you?”

  “Ah, well I’m about 27 in Prime Nexus years. So, if I run the numbers correctly, your years I would be…” She counted on her claws, deep in thought.

  Finally, she spoke.

  “That makes me eleven!” she exclaimed in joy.

  Fuuuuuuuuuuck. Sal was going to hell.

  Xeena saw the aghast look on his face and did her best to pout at him. “Wha- Hey! I’m legal! I’ve been an adult for over ten of your years, what the problem?”

  “That’s uh… just a bit young for humans. Very young. Christ, I am a moron.”

  “Well, you might be an idiot for various reasons, but not for that.” She emphasised the point by tapping him gently on the forehead. “Didn’t you ever read the Harkness test from your proto-wave archive?”

  “The hark-what?”

  “A test to see if its ok to, uh… copulate… with hypothetical creatures.” Xeena let out a purr, “I know want it, I can communicate wanting it very much and I’m old enough in my own culture. I pass, so it’s fine right?”

  He wasn’t sure if ticking some centuries old checklist was enough to sooth his morality about having sex with an eleven-year-old. Damned if Sal was going to let himself live that one down. Gods. He wanted to move on, if only for the sake of his own morality about kiddie fiddling. “So… you been awake long?”

  “A bit. We Cambiar don’t need as much sleep as you do, which I think we can put to good use in the future.”

  Sal chuckled, but the last word brought him out of his stupor.

  Future. The H&H ships would arrive today. Goddamnit.

  Xeena read his expression and frowned.

  “Xeena, about last night…” Sal still wasn’t certain on what path he would take.”

  “Sal, I remember what we said. No matter what, we made good memories.”

  “Yeah. That we did.”

  Quietly, Sal got up and dressed. Checking his comm-device and ignoring a series of bugging texts from the Torchers wondering where he was, where Xeena was, and then sending eggplant and hot dog emoticons, Sal saw the time was close to noon. Not much time left before judgment. Wearing a fresh set of clothes, the previous ones soaked through from collateral damage, and removing the thoroughly soiled sheets, Xeena and Sal were ready for the day. With a deep sigh from Sal, they left the dormitory together.

  The two of them made their way to Starheart’s port docking sectors. A crowd had already gathered in the lobby area, many discussing their futures. Some were cautious, awaiting the exact message from H&H, and others had already decided, firmly making their stances known.

  One member of a group of passengers was angrily shouting at the others. “I’m telling you, to hell with Titanlock! Why the hell do you want to go back there? So you can sit in your cramped shoebox apartment all day?”

  “Because I have a life there!” A shorter man retorted. “Do you even know what the Cambiar would do if you stayed with them? They’ve already shown how much they can change themselves, why not change you? Mess with your genetic code, turn you into some living robot to act out their desires?”

  A woman, holding herself unsteadily tried to interject, but was ignored. “Guys, please, we don’t even know what H&H are going to say. They might keep the expeditionary fleet going, maybe?”

  It was no use, they continued, adding to the roar of the crowd around them. As Sal and Xeena weaved between people, mostly humans but with some Cambiar awaiting the news, they found a spare seat. Sitting next to one another, they silently waited. Sal couldn’t say the words he wanted to, needed to. He was too weak.

  As the caustic feeling in his stomach was rising to his throat, information screens, previously dull and black, sprang to life as Sal’s comm-device received an announcement.

  “Attention, all crew of Henry and Huell Incorporated. We appreciate your patience with our arrival. The ship, Marshstrider, will be docking with the Starheart in ten minutes. Until then, please enjoy a recorded message directly from board director and descendant of co-founder Henry Dexter, Josiah Dexter!” The falsely upbeat voice trailed away as a new one took over, a dark-skinned man in stiff, formal clothing stared into the camera. His eyes were hollow, empty as a hint of a smile glanced his lips.

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  “Hello everyone. It is good to talk to you. Now, as you are aware, the situation in HL7628 has become rather unexpected for the Seventh Expedition Fleet. I am sure, many of you may be afraid or concerned. This is a natural reaction. Fear not, however. We are coming. Soon, Marshstrider will be docking. It is expected that all crewmembers will proceed calmly and orderly onto the ship, for debriefing back at Titanlock. If anyone is considering disobeying these orders, then your employment may be terminated. Be not afraid, workers. All of you, loyal employees, will be compensated for your time and stress during this turbulent time.”

  He took a moment to clear his throat, voice strangled and hoarse. “I am aware that some of you will be reluctant to return. Please, however, consider not only for the good of Henry and Huell Incorporated, but for the good of the Collective Corporations of Humanity that you should let our professionals handle the situation. Contact with those outside of the Collective Corporations of Humanity should always be done by those who can do it best, so leave that to us. It may take some time for us to collect the required staff, so please avoid any further contact with any non-human individuals until you board the ship. For any further questions, please ask them during your debriefing. Thank you for listening, loyal employees, and godspeed.”

  With that, the stunningly short message abruptly ended, and silence reigned. For a second, it seemed to force everyone in the room into submission. A pin drop would have sounded like a bomb. Then, the tide broke and everyone erupted in shouting. Surrounded on all sides, the voices hollered and howled obscenities and threats. Sal could only rest a hand on a chin and think. This was now a junction point, a choice would be needed, no matter what.

  He could stay with the Cambiar, an unexpected, unknown, and unforeseeable future. Almost certainly, his friends would be staying, as would most of the crew, based on their reactions. Most important to him right now, Xeena would be there, that was for certain. This would be a future, tossed into the hands of fate, and where he would need to trust those around him to succeed. The other choice, the choice that soothed the burning of his scar, was to flee. To run away, back to Titanlock. Whether H&H would keep their word mattered not – it was the decision that tore him in two. By returning, he would accept the life he had before, one of transitory moments, never staying too long in one situation. His life could go back to normal, back to before the Torchers, before the Cambiar and before Xeena. It would show those who spat on him, his mother, his sister, fate itself, that he would not bow down to unknowns. He had survived Tartarus Nine, he could take any choice life threw at him.

  It was only when Sal tasted blood that he realized he had been biting his lip, tearing the skin. Rubbing his lip and pulling away crimson, the wildfire in his guts was burning madly.

  “Sal, are you ok?” Xeena looked at him, her frame bent to meet his gaze. When their eyes locked, she already knew what he was thinking, what choice the weaker man had stolen away from the better man. As if to add to the shaking of his nerves, a voice cut through the chatter around the two of them.

  “Sal! Hey Sal!” Abel shouted, waving.

  He was followed by the rest of the team. Seeing them, a sight that normally lifted Sal’s heart even in the worst of moods instead dropped a bowling ball into his stomach.

  “Hello, everyone,” Xeena said, trying to hide her accepted sorrow.

  “So, how are you two doing? Not too sore, eh?” Xin looked over the rim of her sunglasses, displaying a manic grin. If it were any other day, Sal would be worrying what she was planning. Not today.

  “Please, you don’t know what sore is,” Dusty interjected, putting on a fake level of lethargy as Titan chuckled behind him.

  “Now, now, as long as he can get his beauty sleep and if he tidies that beard up, then being sore is no matter. A little ache in the bones is nothing before beauty, hmm?” Stannock was running his hand through his ponytail as his companion nodded in agreement.

  It was only Marcus who could read Sal’s body language. “Sal? You ok? You seem quiet.”

  Sal stood, but didn’t say a word. It took everything he had to force his knees to stop shaking. Christ the scar burned, worse than ever before.

  Sal was in the airlock, putting on the voidsuit, careful not to cut it on the shrapnel jutting from him.

  “Hey man, you hear Mr Dexter over there? What bullshit. ‘Come back or we’ll fire you.’ Is he serious?” Abel shook his head, Pippa on his shoulders following suit. “No one will want to go back and threatening them won’t make a difference.”

  Xeena wrapped her arms around herself and stifled a shaky breath.

  Sal was walking along the surface of the broken station, heading for the solar panel for adjustment. If he didn’t, he would die, too weak to save himself.

  “Sal, come on man, what’s up?” Marcus hadn’t been dissuaded. He could likely recognize Sal’s expression as the one he had used himself when he had first joined the Torchers.

  An announcement chime signalled Marshstrider’s arrival, and the gates to the docking umbilicals opened. A few, tired faces made their way over, a small fraction of the crew in the room. One or two Cambiar went with them. Some sort of diplomats? It didn’t matter to Sal.

  “Uh, Sal, you feeling ok?” Even Stannock had taken notice by this point.

  Sal was on the roof of Tartarus, looking into the night. It looked to inviting.

  “I…” Sal’s tongue was ash in his mouth.

  Sal released from the station, fading into the night.

  “I…” Acid to all he touched. His existence had killed his father, driven his mother and sister away. He’d killed everyone on Tartarus with his presence. He would kill those he cared for, those he loved.

  Sal was in the dark. He was gone.

  “I’m not staying. I’m going back with H&H.” It was said.

  For a moment, no one uttered a word. They stood in silence.

  It was Xin who spoke first. “Heh, ok Sal, very funny. Good one.”

  Sal hung his head and took a step towards the gate.

  “Wha… Sal, you aren’t serious man, come on. You can stop now.” Abel was walking with him.

  “Wait, no. Sal? Really? After everything you said? Everything we’ve done?” Marcus had an edge to his voice, an anger building, a betrayal realized.

  “Wait, sir, you can’t. Why? It doesn’t make sense?” Dusty’s voice was pleading, begging almost. Of everyone there, he sounded the most confused.

  His feet dragging, he was closing in on the gateway. Abel and Xeena were the only ones close now.

  “Sal. After everything we worked for. After every close shave, this is it? I don’t get you, man.” Abel was shaking his head. He’d left Pippa with the others. “Why? Please, brother. Tell me, please.”

  “I can’t.” Was all Sal could croak out, emotions clogging his throat. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

  Looking him dead in the eye as he neared the divide that led to Marshstrider, Abel blinked tears away.

  At that moment, he saw words wouldn’t get through. Instead, he simply crouched to meet his height and hugged him tight.

  “I’ll miss you brother. Live well, please.” Abel choked back tears. Releasing, he strode back to the others. Xin was cursing him, not even attempting to hold back tears. He deserved every word. Their words, daggers in his back. His scar, a sword to his front. One last hurdle stood before him. Xeena.

  She stood in front of him, holding herself. She initially said nothing, looking at the floor. She leant in, wrapped him in her embrace, one he loosely reciprocated.

  “Sal… one day, maybe a year, maybe a decade… however long it takes: I will show you those skies. Together.”

  Biting his lip was the only thing Sal could do not to break down. The taste of iron in his blood was sweet.

  Breaking apart, one last look goodbye, he made his way into the waiting area beyond.

  To the life of self-reliance.

  To a life alone.