Diego pushed himself up from the wet ground, his joints protesting after kneeling in the cold water. The dark portal frame loomed before him, a stark reminder of what they'd lost. The usual shimmer of quantum energy had vanished, leaving only an empty metal arch against Haven's twilight sky.

  His chest tightened as he stared into the void where the gateway had been. Luna's final transmission echoed in his mind, her voice cut short by static and rushing water. How many others had been lost in those final moments? The weight of command pressed down on his shoulders, heavier than any burden he'd carried in his decades of service.

  Behind him, the sounds of the evacuation continued, Sarah organizing headcounts, medical teams treating the injured, and engineers working to clear the flooding. But Diego remained fixed before the portal, his silhouette casting a long shadow in the fading light.

  They'd known the risks when they'd started this mission. Every person who'd stepped through that gateway had chosen to leave Earth behind, betting everything on this chance for survival. Luna had believed in that chance enough to give her life for it.

  Diego squared his shoulders as the familiar ache of loss threatened to overwhelm him. They couldn't afford for him to crumble now. Too many people were counting on him, the survivors needed direction, the children needed security, and Haven itself demanded their attention if they were to truly make this alien world their home.

  A cool breeze stirred the alien vegetation around the portal platform, carrying the strange, sweet scent that permeated Haven's atmosphere. It was their home now, whether they were ready or not. There would be no going back.

  Diego stared at the dead portal, his fingers clenched into fists. Years of combat experience screamed at him to act, to find a way back through, to save those left behind. But this wasn't a battlefield where sheer will could overcome physics.

  "Let's organize everyone. We can't let any of them get left behind." His voice carried across the platform. "Jack, get the generators ready. Olivia, coordinate the final personnel checks. Every minute counts."

  The team scattered, their footsteps splashing through puddles as they rushed to their tasks. The sound of equipment being moved and voices calling out status reports filled the air. Diego observed the organized chaos, experiencing the passage of time like sand through his fingers.

  Olivia appeared at his side, her lab coat damp from the earlier flooding. "We cannot reopen that portal, Diego." Her voice was gentle but firm. "I know you want to go save them. But if you open that portal, it will not save them, it will destroy the portal area here, setting us back months."

  The truth of her words struck him with a forceful impact. Luna's face flashed through his mind, her determined expression as she coordinated that final evacuation, her quick thinking that had saved so many lives before the end. He'd lost too many people over the years, but this one cut deep.

  Diego nodded slowly, his jaw tight. The weight of command meant knowing when to accept the impossible, when to acknowledge that no amount of fighting would change the outcome. Olivia's presence beside him helped steady his resolve, her quiet strength a reminder that they still had people here who needed them.

  Diego turned from the dead portal to face his team gathered in the harsh glow of the area lights. Their faces painted a picture of grief and determination, a reflection of his own internal struggle. The setting sun cast long shadows across Haven's alien landscape, marking the end of their last connection to Earth.

  Jack bolted toward the generators, his usual wisecracks absent. His hands trembled as he yanked open access panels, desperation evident in every movement. "If I can just get enough power, maybe we can-"

  Alexis stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she shook her head. Jack's shoulders slumped, his tools clattering to the ground.

  "You have to reopen it!" Admiral Williams's voice cracked with emotion. His children clung to his legs, their faces streaked with tears. "My wife... she was supposed to be on the next transport. You can't just leave her there!"

  Diego met the Admiral's desperate gaze, his heart heavy with the weight of command. He shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, Jack. We can't."

  "But-"

  "The quantum field is completely destabilized." Olivia stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm despite her own tears. "If we try to reopen the portal now, the energy backlash would destroy this entire area. Everyone here, including your children, would be at risk."

  The Admiral crumpled to his knees, pulling his children close as sobs wracked his body. The sound echoed across the platform, a haunting reminder of all they'd lost.

  Diego watched as Sarah approached Jack Williams, her movements gentle and purposeful. The way she placed her hand on Jack's shoulder reminded him of Elena's touch, steady, comforting, the kind of gesture that could ground a person in their darkest moments.

  Jack's resistance crumbled under Sarah's quiet support. She helped him to his feet, his uniform soaked through from kneeling in the puddles. His children pressed close, their small hands clutching at his pants legs.

  "Come on," Sarah's voice carried across the platform, barely louder than the hum of the generators. "There's a quiet spot in the med bay. You can sit with them there."

  Diego's chest tightened as he watched them go. He'd seen that same lost look in too many soldiers' eyes over the years. The crushing weight of survival when others didn't make it. But watching Jack's children trailing behind him, their faces streaked with tears and mud, hit differently. They should have provided these kids with a new beginning, not additional trauma to bear.

  Diego watched as Haven's children moved through the crowd with surprising purpose. His granddaughter Isabella took the hand of a small boy clutching a worn stuffed rabbit, her gentle smile a mirror of Maria's. The boy's tears slowed as she pointed out the bioluminescent trees that lined their settlement's paths. He could hear her telling the young boy that Dr. Chen is growing rabbits right now, Mateo, keeping up with his sister, assisted a girl of his age in carrying her backpack, and maybe later we could go look at them.

  Mateo, not to be outdone by his sister, helped a girl his age carry her backpack. The two chatted about the strange birds that sometimes flew overhead, Mateo's animated gestures drawing a tentative smile from his new friend.

  All around the platform, similar scenes played out. Children who'd called Haven home for weeks now guided the newcomers, their natural resilience showing in how easily they adapted to their role as welcomers. They led families toward Sarah's processing station, their small voices mixing with the sounds of equipment being moved and status reports being called out.

  Diego's chest tightened as he watched a teenager from his security team's family helping an elderly couple navigate the uneven ground. The boy supported the woman's elbow with the same care Diego had seen his father use in crisis situations. These kids had already learned one of Haven's most important lessons, survival meant working together.

  Sarah's team moved efficiently through the crowd, their datapads glowing in the deepening twilight as they logged names and assigned temporary quarters. The children's impromptu welcome committee made their job easier, keeping families together and calm during processing.

  A small hand tugged at Diego's sleeve. He looked down to find Mateo grinning up at him.

  "Abuelo, can I show Amy where the glowing flowers are? She doesn't believe me about them changing colors."

  Diego knelt down to Mateo's level, his knees protesting the movement. The boy's eyes sparkled with excitement, untouched by the weight of what had just happened.

  "That's a wonderful idea, mijo," Diego said, ruffling Mateo's hair. "But we need to wait a little while. Amy's mamá and papá need to know where she is right now."

  Mateo's brow furrowed. "But why are they so scared? Haven is safe."

  Diego took a deep breath and carefully considered his words. "Do you remember the big storms we used to get in Tucson? The ones that made the streets flood?"

  Mateo nodded.

  "Well, on the other side of the portal, there was a wave bigger than any storm we've ever seen. It was very scary for Amy and her family." Diego glanced at the dead portal frame. "That's why we had to close it."

  "Like when we close the windows during a dust storm?"

  "Exactly like that." Diego managed a small smile at his grandson's simple comparison. "So right now, Amy needs to stay close to her parents. But later, when they're feeling better, you can show her all the amazing things about Haven."

  Mateo considered this, then nodded solemnly. "I'll tell her about the flowers now so she has something good to think about."

  Diego looked at the small girl standing next to Mateo, her brown eyes wide with uncertainty. Her clothes still carried traces of Earth's dust, marking her as one of the last evacuees.

  "Where are your parents, Amy?" Diego kept his voice gentle as he knelt beside her, his cybernetic leg whirring softly with the movement.

  Amy pointed toward Sarah's processing station, where a couple was just finishing their paperwork. The woman's dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and the man's security uniform identified him as part of O'Reilly's team.

  "Come on, let's go see them." Diego stood, offering his hand. Amy hesitated for a moment before taking it, her small fingers wrapping around his calloused palm. Mateo bounced alongside them as they walked across the platform.

  "Mamá, Papá!" Amy called out as they approached. Her parents turned, relief washing over their faces at the sight of their daughter.

  "I'm Diego Martinez, head of operations here." He extended his free hand to Amy's father. "Your daughter's made friends with my grandson already."

  "James Cooper," the man replied, his handshake firm despite his obvious exhaustion. "This is my wife, Sarah. We were with O'Reilly's security detail in Tucson."

  "Can I show Amy the glowing flowers?" Mateo piped up, practically vibrating with excitement. "Please?"

  Diego smiled at his grandson's boundless enthusiasm, reminded of Maria at that age. The boy's eagerness to share Haven's wonders never failed to lift his spirits, even on the darkest days.

  "Mijo, how about we give Amy and her family a day to settle in?" Diego squeezed Mateo's shoulder gently. "Then maybe tomorrow you can take her to see the baby chickens? Dr. Chen just told me they're starting to walk around."

  Mateo's eyes lit up at the mention of the chicks. "The yellow fluffy ones? Can I show her how they eat the special food too?"

  "If Dr. Chen says it's okay." Diego glanced at the Coopers, noting their exhausted but grateful expressions. "The chickens are part of our agricultural program. They're the first livestock born here in Haven."

  Sarah Cooper managed a tired smile. "That would be wonderful. Amy loves animals." She brushed her daughter's hair back from her face. "But your abuelo is right, cari?o. We need to get settled first."

  Diego watched as Amy's face brightened at the prospect of seeing the chicks, some of her earlier fear melting away. It was amazing how quickly children could adapt, finding joy even in the midst of chaos. Their resilience gave him hope for Haven's future.

  "The chickens make funny noises," Mateo informed Amy solemnly. "And they run really fast when you give them treats."

  Diego excused himself from the Cooper family, watching as Mateo launched into another excited description of Haven's wonders. The boy's enthusiasm brought a brief smile to his weathered face before the weight of their losses settled back onto his shoulders.

  Across the platform, he spotted Olivia, Emily, and Sarah huddled together near the medical station. Their faces were drawn with exhaustion and grief as they spoke in low voices. As he approached, Emily's words caught his attention.

  "We should set up a memorial service tomorrow for all the people we lost."

  Diego's chest tightened at the suggestion. Luna's face flashed through his mind - her determined expression as she coordinated that final evacuation, her quick thinking that had saved so many lives before the end. The loss of such a skilled team member hit hard, but it was her friendship he'd miss most.

  His cybernetic leg whirred softly as he closed the distance to the group. Sarah clutched her datapad like a shield, her knuckles white against its edges. The names of the lost were probably already compiled in her meticulous records. Olivia's eyes met his, carrying the same haunted look he'd seen too many times during his military career - the expression of someone forced to make impossible choices.

  The familiar ache of command settled in his gut. They needed this memorial, needed a chance to honor those they'd lost. But they also needed to keep moving forward, to focus on securing Haven for the survivors. Finding that balance had never been easy, not in all his years of service.

  Diego watched as Olivia's expression softened, her analytical mind already working through the logistics. The familiar sight eased some of the tension in his shoulders.

  "A memorial service would help everyone process what happened," Olivia said. She turned to Emily and Sarah. "Could you two gather some volunteers to help set it up for tomorrow night?"

  Emily nodded, her usual energy subdued but present. "I know a few people who'd want to help. The Patel brothers are good with setup, and Maria mentioned wanting to do something for the community."

  "I can coordinate with the families," Sarah added, her fingers already moving across her datapad. "Make sure everyone who lost someone has a chance to participate if they want to."

  Diego's chest tightened at the quiet efficiency of his team. Even in grief, they worked together, supporting each other without hesitation. It reminded him of his old military units, how shared loss could either break a group apart or forge it stronger.

  Sarah's datapad chimed softly as she made notes. "We should have enough space near the lake. The bioluminescent flowers there might provide a fitting backdrop."

  "The children could help gather them," Emily suggested. "Give them something meaningful to do."

  Diego watched as the three women continued planning, their voices low but purposeful. The memorial would give everyone a chance to say goodbye, to acknowledge their losses before moving forward. Haven demanded their attention, their dedication to building a new life here. But first, they needed this moment to honor those who'd given everything to make it possible.

  Diego sat on a flat rock at the edge of the lake, his legs dangling above the water's surface. His cybernetic leg caught the fading sunlight, the metal gleaming against the darkening sky. The distant hills cast long shadows across the tranquil water, painting everything in warm golden hues that reminded him of Arizona sunsets.

  Behind him, the sounds of memorial preparations drifted on the evening breeze. The soft murmur of voices mixed with the rustle of fabric as people set up chairs and gathering spaces. Emily's drones hummed overhead, positioning lights for the ceremony while Sarah directed volunteers carrying armfuls of bioluminescent flowers.

  His throat tightened as he watched the sun's reflection ripple across the lake's surface. The beauty of Haven felt almost obscene in the face of their losses. Luna should have been here to see this sunset. James should have been helping to set up the memorial. Admiral Williams' wife should have made it through that final crossing.

  The water lapped gently at the rock beneath his feet, its rhythm steady and unchanging. Diego had attended more memorials than he cared to count over his long military career, but this one felt different. This wasn't about honoring fallen soldiers who knew the risks. These were civilians, support staff, people who'd trusted him to get them to safety.

  A cool breeze stirred the alien vegetation along the shoreline, carrying the sweet scent of Haven's night-blooming flowers. The familiar weight of command settled deeper into his shoulders as he watched the golden light fade from the water's surface.

  Diego watched Sarah direct a group of volunteers carrying armfuls of bioluminescent flowers. The petals glowed softly in the growing darkness, their ethereal light mixing with the last rays of sunset. Jack limped past with rolls of fabric salvaged from their Earth supplies - sheets that should have been used for bedding now transformed into memorial banners.

  Mateo's laughter rang out as he chased Isabel between the gathering crowds. The sound pierced Diego's chest like a physical blow. Luna would have loved watching the children play, would have delighted in teaching them about Haven's technology. Her absence felt like a raw wound.

  James should have been here too, helping Emily position the lights with his meticulous attention to detail. Instead, his tools lay carefully preserved in the engineering bay, waiting for hands that would never touch them again. And Sarah Williams - her gentle strength had calmed so many frightened evacuees during those final crossings. Her loss had shattered something in the Admiral that Diego wasn't sure could ever be repaired.

  The memories crashed over him like waves: Luna's sardonic smile as she cracked impossible security systems, James' quiet competence during crises, Sarah Williams' steady presence organizing supplies. Each face carved deeper into his conscience.

  "Should have triple-checked those seismic readings," Diego muttered, his fingers digging into the rough surface of the rock. "Could have reinforced the portal housing, evacuated more people faster, found a way to stabilize-"

  The weight of command had never felt heavier. He'd led teams through combat zones, made split-second decisions that cost lives, but this was different. These people had trusted him to lead them to safety, to build something new. Instead, he'd lost them at the very threshold of their new world.

  Diego clenched his fist, knuckles white against the darkening sky. The raw ache in his chest twisted into something harder, more focused. Anger and grief crystallized into the familiar weight of command responsibility. He'd carried that weight for thirty years - he could carry it now.

  The settlement sprawled behind him, a testament to how far they'd come. Solar panels glinted in the fading light, greenhouses hummed with life, and children's laughter echoed from newly built homes. But the cost of this transformation cut deep. Luna's empty workstation. James' abandoned tools. Sarah Williams' gentle voice silenced forever.

  "Have I led them to a better future?" The question slipped out unbidden, barely a whisper above the lapping water. "Or am I just trying to redeem myself for all the ones I couldn't save before?"

  The lake's surface rippled, catching the sunset's golden rays. The steady rhythm of the water against the shore matched his breathing, each wave washing away a fraction of the crushing weight. Behind him, Emily's drones hummed as they positioned lights, Sarah Chen directed volunteers with quiet efficiency, and Jack worked alongside Alexis to hang memorial banners. His people - still fighting, still believing in the future they'd sacrificed so much to build.

  A presence approached, familiar footsteps on the rocky shore. Olivia slipped her arm through his, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. Her warmth seeped through his jacket, grounding him in the present moment. The world didn't feel quite so heavy with her beside him.

  Olivia's arm tightened around Diego's as she gazed at the memorial preparations. The bioluminescent flowers cast a soft glow across her features, highlighting the determination in her eyes.

  "They would want us to keep pushing, to keep building," she said, her voice steady despite the weight of loss. "They believed in what we're doing." She turned to meet his gaze, her expression intense. "I believe too especially in you."

  Diego's chest tightened at her words. He ran his hand over his face, the calluses catching on stubble. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm just leading more people to their deaths. Luna trusted me. James trusted me. Sarah-" His voice caught.

  "We will honor those we lost by creating the future they dreamed of," Olivia said, squeezing his arm. "Together."

  The warmth of her touch spread through him, easing the crushing weight of command. Diego watched Emily's drones position another string of lights, their soft glow mixing with Haven's natural bioluminescence. For the first time since the portal collapse, he allowed himself to imagine beyond the immediate crisis—gardens expanding across the valley, children playing in safe streets, a community growing stronger with each passing season.

  The night air settled around them as workers set up lanterns for the memorial service. Their soft light reflected off the lake's surface, creating twin constellations above and below. Diego's fingers found Olivia's, intertwining with a gentle squeeze.

  "We'll make it worth it," he whispered. "For them. For us."

  Diego felt Olivia's fingers tighten around his as another cool breeze swept across the lake. The alien flowers along the shoreline swayed, their bioluminescent petals casting shifting patterns on the water's surface. Her presence anchored him, keeping the crushing weight of command from overwhelming his thoughts.

  The memorial preparations continued behind them, but the sounds felt distant now, muted by the gentle lapping of waves against the rocky shore. Diego traced his thumb across Olivia's knuckles, memorizing the texture of her skin, the strength in her grip.

  "I keep seeing their faces," he said, his voice rough. "Luna's smile when she cracked that impossible security system. James showing the kids how to build toy robots."

  Olivia shifted closer, her warmth seeping through his jacket. "They believed in this place, Diego. In what we're building here."

  The setting sun painted Haven's strange sky in familiar shades of gold and purple. Diego watched the light play across the lake's surface, remembering countless mission briefings where Luna had stood at his side, her quick wit cutting through tension. The ache in his chest hadn't lessened, but Olivia's presence made it bearable.

  "Sometimes I wonder if I'm asking too much of everyone," Diego admitted. "Pushing too hard, too fast."

  "We're all here because we choose to be," Olivia said. Her head came to rest against his shoulder, her hair tickling his neck. "You don't carry this alone."

  Diego squeezed her hand, drawing strength from her quiet confidence. The lake stretched before them, its waters reflecting the last rays of sunlight like molten gold. In that moment, with Olivia's fingers intertwined with his, the burden of command felt lighter.

  Diego watched as Manuel helped his children place glowing flowers along the memorial path. Isabel's small hands carefully arranged each stem while Mateo insisted on creating patterns with the colors. Their innocent determination brought a bittersweet smile to his face.

  "Luna would have loved those patterns," Olivia whispered, her arm still linked with his. "She always said Mateo had an engineer's mind."

  Jack limped over, carrying more flowers. "Remember when Luna reprogrammed my leg to play disco music every time I walked?" He shook his head, chuckling. "Took me three days to figure out how to turn it off."

  "She did the same thing to Emily's drones," Alexis called out, helping to hang a memorial banner. "Had them dancing in formation to 'Stayin' Alive' during that first security drill."

  The laughter that rippled through the gathering felt right somehow, not disrespectful but healing. Diego remembered Luna's fierce grin when she'd pulled off those pranks, her way of keeping spirits high during the tensest moments.

  Sarah Chen stepped forward, adjusting a row of photographs. Her fingers lingered on James' image. "He taught my sister's kids how to build tiny robots from spare parts. Said every child should know how to create something wonderful from nothing."

  Diego felt Olivia's hand slip into his as more stories emerged. Each memory shared seemed to strengthen the bonds between the survivors, transforming grief into something that united rather than isolated them. Their losses would always hurt, but these moments of shared remembrance proved their community's resilience.

  Diego watched as Jack helped Emily adjust the memorial lights, their usual bickering replaced by quiet cooperation. Even with his cybernetic leg giving him trouble, Jack worked steadily, matching Emily's methodical pace. The way they anticipated each other's movements spoke of hours spent working side by side in the engineering bay.

  Sarah Chen paused in arranging the photographs, her hands trembling slightly. Without a word, Mei appeared at her sister's side, steadying the frame. The sisters shared a look that contained volumes - grief, determination, and unwavering support.

  Near the shoreline, Manuel and Maria worked together, gathering more of Haven's bioluminescent flowers. Diego noticed how his son-in-law's protective stance had softened, allowing Maria's strength to shore up his own. They moved in sync, their shared loss of friends bringing them closer rather than driving them apart.

  Captain Johnson and Sgt. Thompson sat together on a fallen log, passing a canteen back and forth as they sorted through James' old tools. Each item they set aside came with a quiet comment, a shared memory. Their shoulders touched, neither willing to face the task alone.

  Ethan worked alongside Dr. Carter, their agricultural expertise blending as they wove memorial wreaths from Haven's strange flora. Their fingers moved with practiced efficiency, technical discussions giving way to comfortable silence. The wreaths they created combined Earth's traditional patterns with Haven's alien beauty - a bridge between what they'd lost and what they were building.

  Diego felt Olivia's hand tighten in his as they observed their team. These people had started as strangers thrown together by desperate circumstances. Now, watching them move around each other with the ease of family, he saw how their shared trials had forged something stronger than mere working relationships.

  A look passed between Johnson and Carter as they positioned the memorial banners - the same look Diego had seen countless times in combat zones. It spoke of absolute trust, of knowing someone had your back without needing words. That look now rippled through their entire community, binding them together in ways that transcended their losses.

  Diego squeezed Olivia's hand one last time before releasing it. A sad smile crossed his weathered features as he stepped away from the rock, boots crunching on the shoreline gravel. The gathered crowd shifted, creating space as he walked to the center of their makeshift memorial circle.

  The bioluminescent flowers cast shifting patterns across familiar faces. Diego's throat tightened as he looked at his assembled team - no, his family. They'd been through hell together, lost people they loved, but somehow kept going.

  "Luna once told me that memories were like computer code," Diego said, his voice rough with emotion. "Each one builds on the ones before, creating something greater than its parts. Tonight, we share our memories of those we lost, adding their code to Haven's foundation."

  Sarah Chen stepped forward first, her hands clasped tightly. "James taught my sister to repair medical equipment during those final weeks on Earth. He said technical skills were the best gift he could give anyone." Her voice wavered but held steady. "He was right - those skills saved lives during our crossing."

  "Luna reprogrammed my prosthetic to play music whenever I cursed," Jack added, tapping his cybernetic leg. "Said if I was going to swear like a sailor, I might as well provide a soundtrack." Quiet laughter rippled through the group.

  Manuel wrapped an arm around Maria's shoulders, and Diego noticed his son-in-law's hands trembling slightly. The gesture seemed as much about steadying himself as comforting his wife.

  "Sarah Williams helped me get so many of the people that came across at the end through the portal." Manuel's voice cracked with emotion as he lowered his head. "She begged me to take her daughter across so she could help the other children go through. Said her girl needed to be safe while she stayed behind to save as many as possible."

  Diego's chest tightened at the weight of sacrifice in those words. He'd seen that kind of choice too many times during the wars - parents giving everything so their children might have a chance. The memory of his own separation from Maria years ago burned fresh in his mind.

  More stories flowed - memories of pranks and kindness, of quiet moments and brave sacrifices. Diego watched his people draw closer together, their shared grief transforming into something that strengthened rather than divided them. Each story added another thread to the tapestry of their community, weaving past and present into Haven's future.

  The memory hit Diego like a physical blow. The stark military office materialized in his mind - polished brass gleaming on the wall, medals arranged with perfect precision. Admiral Williams had stood there, his own grief still fresh from losing his wife in a bombing raid, yet somehow finding the strength to help a broken younger version of Diego.

  "Martinez, look at me." The Admiral's voice had carried the weight of command even then. "Elena wouldn't want you drowning in this. She'd want you fighting."

  Diego remembered how his hands had shaken, clutching the edge of the Admiral's desk. The loss of Elena had torn a hole in his world that seemed impossible to fill. "I failed her, sir. I should have been there."

  "You were where you needed to be, saving others' lives." Williams had moved around the desk, his usually rigid posture softening. "But your daughter needs you now. Maria needs her father."

  The memory of Maria, so young then, waiting at home with her grandmother, had squeezed Diego's heart. Williams had placed a steady hand on his shoulder, the gesture carrying more understanding than words could express.

  The office had blurred through Diego's tears, but Williams hadn't looked away. The Admiral's own pain had been evident in the new lines around his eyes, the slight tremor in his usually steady hands. Yet he'd stood there, bearing both their grief, showing Diego a path forward through the darkness.

  "The pain doesn't go away," Williams had told him. "But you learn to carry it. And someday, you'll find that carrying it makes you stronger. Makes you better able to protect those who still need you."

  The memory faded, bringing Diego back to Haven's shoreline. He blinked away tears, focusing on the memorial preparations around him. Williams' words from that day echoed in his mind, carrying new weight after all these years.

  "Admiral Williams taught me something crucial after I lost Elena," Diego said, his voice rough with emotion. The gathered crowd stilled, their attention drawn to his words. "He told me that those we lose become part of our mission. That it's our duty to honor them by fighting for what they believed in."

  Diego's gaze swept across the faces before him - Jack adjusting his prosthetic, Emily checking her drone controls, Sarah Chen organizing the photographs. Each of them carried their own losses, yet stood ready to build something new.

  "Williams knew what he was talking about," Diego continued. "He'd lost his both of his parents in a bombing raid, but he never stopped fighting for a better future. He showed me that our strength comes from standing together, from carrying each other's burdens."

  The setting sun painted Haven's strange sky in familiar shades of gold and purple. Diego remembered how Williams had stood beside him during those dark days, showing him a path forward through grief. The Admiral's wisdom had shaped not just Diego's recovery, but his entire approach to leadership.

  "He taught me that purpose and community are what pull us through the darkest times," Diego said. "That our shared mission gives meaning to our losses. We honor Luna, James, and Sarah Williams not just by remembering them, but by building the future they believed in."

  Diego's throat tightened as Admiral Williams broke down, his shoulders shaking with deep, wracking sobs. The man who had taught him how to carry grief with dignity now crumbled under the weight of his own loss. Williams' children wrapped their arms around their father, Emily pressing her face against his shoulder while Michael supported him from the other side.

  The sight hit Diego like a physical blow. He'd never seen Williams lose control, not even during the darkest days of the resource wars. The Admiral had always been their rock, the steady presence they could rely on. Now his composure shattered, years of stored anguish pouring out in gut-wrenching cries.

  Carter stepped forward first, placing a gentle hand on Admiral Williams' back. Thompson moved closer, offering silent support. One by one, other team members drew near, forming a protective circle around their grieving leader. No one spoke - they didn't need to. Their presence said everything words couldn't.

  Diego watched as Williams clutched his children tighter, his weathered face streaked with tears. The man had lost so much - his parents, his wife, and now Sarah. Each loss carved deeper grooves into his features, yet he'd kept fighting, kept leading. Until now.

  The sound of Williams' grief echoed across the memorial site, raw and heartbreaking. It stripped away rank and protocol, leaving only a husband mourning his wife, a father seeking comfort in his children's arms. Diego felt his own eyes burn as he remembered that day in Williams' office, when their roles had been reversed.

  Diego watched as Admiral Williams straightened, wiping tears from his weathered face. The man's voice, though rough with emotion, carried the same commanding presence it had decades ago in that military office.

  "When I lost my parents," Williams said, his children's hands still steadying him, "I thought the pain would destroy me. But my CO told me something I never forgot. He said, 'Williams, your parents believed in protecting others. Make that your mission.'"

  The Admiral's gaze swept across the gathered crowd, settling on Diego. "Those words saved me. Every time I felt like giving up, I remembered what my parents fought for. When Sarah-" His voice cracked, but he pressed on. "When Sarah died saving those children, she became part of that same mission. Every life we protect here in Haven honors her sacrifice."

  Diego felt Olivia's hand slip into his as Williams continued, "The hardest lesson I learned was that we can't carry grief alone. It takes a community to bear the weight of loss. Each person here brings strength to others, just as those we lost brought strength to us."

  Emily pressed closer to her father, and Williams wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Your mother believed in this place," he told his children. "She believed in all of you. We honor her by building the future she dreamed of."

  The words struck Diego like physical blows, echoing his own journey through grief. He remembered Williams teaching him these same lessons after Elena's death, showing him how to transform pain into purpose.

  Diego spotted Jack O'Connor at the edge of the gathering, his cybernetic leg tapping an uneven rhythm against the ground. The engineer's usual cocky grin had vanished, replaced by a haunted look Diego recognized all too well.

  Moving away from the main group, Diego approached Jack. The younger man's shoulders tensed, his hands fidgeting with a datapad - Luna's datapad, Diego realized with a pang.

  "She left notes everywhere," Jack muttered, his voice rough. "Found them scattered through the system files this morning. Little jokes, comments about my 'creative' coding solutions." He let out a shaky laugh. "Even left instructions for upgrading my leg's neural interface. Said my current setup was, and I quote, 'a disaster waiting to happen.'"

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Diego rested a hand on Jack's shoulder, feeling the slight tremor running through the engineer's frame. "Luna always did look out for everyone, even if she showed it through pranks and sass."

  "She was brilliant." Jack's fingers tightened around the datapad. "We were working on adapting Haven's crystals for data storage. She had this wild theory about quantum resonance patterns..." He trailed off, swallowing hard. "I don't know if I can finish it without her."

  "You won't have to do it alone," Diego said firmly. "Emily's been studying Luna's drone modifications. Sgt. Thompson's got experience with crystal formations. The whole team's here to help."

  Jack nodded slowly, his breathing steadying. "Luna left detailed notes about improving our communication systems. Said we needed redundancy in case the main arrays failed." He straightened, some of his old determination returning. "We could implement her designs, make them better than she imagined. It's what she would've wanted."

  "That's the spirit," Diego squeezed Jack's shoulder. "Honor her memory by building something amazing."

  Diego turned from Jack to find Olivia watching him, her eyes reflecting the bioluminescent glow of Haven's strange flowers. The weight of their shared losses hung between them, but something else burned there too - determination, hope, and an emotion that made his heart skip.

  Williams' words from years ago echoed in Diego's mind. The Admiral had taught him that grief could either break you or forge you into something stronger. Looking at Olivia now, Diego saw that same understanding in her expression. She'd lost colleagues, friends, and pieces of her old life, yet stood unwavering in her commitment to Haven's future.

  "You're doing exactly what he taught you," Olivia said softly, stepping closer. Her hand found his, fingers intertwining with practiced familiarity. "Leading with both strength and heart."

  Diego squeezed her hand, drawing comfort from her presence. "Williams showed me that true leadership isn't about being unbreakable. It's about showing others how to carry their burdens together."

  The way Olivia looked at him then - pride mixed with something deeper - reminded Diego of all they'd built together. Not just the physical settlement or the technical achievements, but the bonds that held their community together. Each loss had threatened to tear them apart, yet somehow brought them closer.

  "We're going to make it," Olivia whispered, her voice carrying absolute conviction. "Not just survive, but build something extraordinary here. Together."

  The last notes of "Amazing Grace" faded across Haven's twilight as young Michael Williams lowered his guitar. His clear tenor voice had carried their grief skyward, transforming it into something almost beautiful. Diego watched the boy's sister Emily wrap an arm around his shoulders, their shared loss evident in the gesture.

  As the team began gathering their memorial items, Diego led Olivia back to their rock by the shore. The bioluminescent flowers still cast shifting patterns across the water, their soft glow a reminder of Haven's alien beauty.

  "The way they came together today," Diego said, his voice rough with emotion. "It reminds me of what we're building here. Not just structures or systems, but real connections."

  Olivia leaned against his shoulder, her warmth anchoring him. "I've been thinking about Luna's agricultural database project. We could expand it, create a living archive of Earth's farming techniques merged with what we're learning about Haven's ecosystem."

  "Sgt. Thompson mentioned wanting to train more medics," Diego added. "Said it would honor Sarah Williams' memory by ensuring we never lack for healers."

  "Every person here brings something unique," Olivia said, watching as Maria helped little Mateo collect memorial flowers. "Even the children contribute just by being children - giving us hope, reminding us why we fight."

  Diego nodded, remembering how Isabella had taught younger kids Earth songs earlier that week. "They're already adapting better than we are, treating Haven like home instead of just survival."

  "That's what we need to focus on now," Olivia said. "Not just surviving but truly living here. Building traditions, creating art, making this place our home."

  Diego stood in the doorway of his quarters, blinking against Haven's morning light. His body felt different after nine full hours of sleep, muscles loose, mind clear, even his old combat injuries quiet for once. The settlement sprawled before him, already humming with activity despite the early hour.

  The sound of children's laughter drifted up from the newly established school area, where Isabella was teaching younger kids a clapping game. Near the Bio-Ag facility, Mei directed a team unloading crates of seedlings. The mechanical whir of drones punctuated the air as Emily's team conducted their morning security sweep.

  Diego breathed deeply, savoring the crisp morning air. Just months ago, this had been raw alien wilderness. Now, orderly rows of structures housed over four hundred people. Gardens flourished with Earth crops adapted to Haven's soil. The water filtration system Jack and Alexis built supplied clean water throughout the settlement.

  Luna, James, Sarah Williams, and others, whose names carved into the memorial stone by the lake, were among the good people they lost en route. But their sacrifices hadn't been in vain. The community they'd dreamed of was taking shape, growing stronger each day.

  Watching Mateo help Carter carry medical supplies to the infirmary, Diego felt a surge of pride. His grandson moved with confidence through the settlement, completely at ease in this alien world. The boy exemplified everything they'd hoped to achieve, not just survival but the ability to truly thrive here.

  Diego straightened his shoulders, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility settle more comfortably than before. They still faced challenges, adapting to Haven's environment, expanding their infrastructure, and ensuring their community's long-term survival. But for the first time since stepping through the portal, those challenges felt less like insurmountable obstacles and more like opportunities to build something extraordinary.

  Diego made his way down the settlement's main path, nodding to workers hauling supplies and tending to the growing infrastructure. The morning dew still clung to the bioluminescent plants that lined the walkways, casting a soft blue glow despite the daylight.

  Near the power distribution hub, he spotted Jack balanced precariously on his cybernetic leg, making adjustments to a crystal array while Alexis monitored readings on a datapad below.

  "How's it looking?" Diego called out, approaching the pair.

  Jack grinned, wiping sweat from his forehead. "We're almost there. Just a few more adjustments, and we'll be back to full capacity."

  "Found a way to boost efficiency by fifteen percent," Alexis added, not looking up from her readings. These Haven crystals are truly exceptional. When we align them properly, the energy output is unparalleled.

  Diego watched as Jack made another minor adjustment, causing the crystals to pulse with a brighter intensity. The hum of power flowing through the grid grew stronger and more stable.

  "Just don't blow anything up this time," Diego said, remembering their last experimental adjustment that had knocked out power to half the settlement.

  "That was one time," Jack protested, carefully securing the crystal array. "And technically, nothing exploded. It was more of an energetic discharge."

  Alexis snorted. "That's what he keeps telling himself. But don't worry, boss. We've got proper containment measures in place now."

  Diego left Jack and Alexis to their work, making his way to the communication center. The morning air grew warmer as Haven's sun climbed higher, casting long shadows through the settlement's winding paths.

  Inside the comm center, holographic displays filled the room with a soft blue glow. Multiple screens showed real-time footage from the mountain mining operation. Diego watched the automated mining bots methodically extract ore from the crystalline formations, their precision movements guided by the advanced AI systems they'd salvaged from Earth.

  "Morning, Chief," called out Liam from his station. The engineer's usual pristine appearance was marred by dark circles under his eyes, evidence of another long night shift.

  Diego moved closer to the main display. "How are we looking?"

  "Better than expected." O'Reilly pulled up a detailed production chart. "We've increased output by 30% since deploying the new bots. We're on track to meet our resource goals."

  Diego studied the data scrolling across the screen. The stabilization alloys were crucial for their expanding infrastructure. Without them, they couldn't properly shield their sensitive equipment from Haven's unique electromagnetic fields.

  "Any issues with the new extraction patterns?" Diego asked, noting the deeper tunneling operations.

  "Nothing major. The bots are handling the mineral density variations better than we anticipated. Though I'd like to adjust their programming to—

  "No modifications," Diego cut in firmly, remembering the last time O'Reilly had "improved" their equipment. "The bots are working fine as they are."

  O'Reilly's shoulders slumped slightly. "Yes, sir. Keeping everything strictly by the book."

  Diego watched another bot emerge from the tunnel entrance, its storage compartment loaded with raw ore. The operation was running smoothly, perhaps too smoothly. In his experience, that usually meant something was about to go wrong.

  Diego turned his attention to the refining statistics displayed on a secondary screen. "How's the yield looking with those new refineries? Jack swore his modifications would boost production."

  "The numbers are..." O'Reilly tapped through several screens, bringing up the latest production data. "Actually impressive, for once. We're seeing a 40% increase in refined output compared to the old setup. The crystalline catalyst Jack integrated is making a significant difference in processing efficiency."

  Diego studied the graphs, noting the steady upward trend in refined materials. The stabilization alloys were crucial for their expansion plans, especially with the new medical facility requiring heavy shielding. "Any issues with quality control?"

  "None so far." O'Reilly pulled up a detailed analysis. "If anything, the purity levels are higher than what we achieved on Earth. The Haven crystals seem to have some unique properties that enhance the refinement process. We're still studying exactly how it works."

  Diego nodded, feeling relieved that everything was finally proceeding as planned. The increased yield would allow them to accelerate their construction schedule, particularly for the crucial infrastructure projects Olivia had prioritized.

  "Keep monitoring those numbers," Diego said. "I want to know immediately if anything changes. We can't afford any surprises with the refinement process."

  "Yes, sir. I'll have hourly reports sent to your datapad."

  Diego scrolled through the resource report on his datapad, the blue glow of the screen reflecting off his weathered face. The numbers were better than he'd expected, their stockpile of stabilization alloys had grown substantially over the past week. The refined materials gleamed in the storage facility's harsh lighting, row upon row of carefully cataloged components essential for their survival.

  A soft chime announced Kaito's arrival. The younger man's suit looked pristine as always, a stark contrast to the industrial setting of the storage facility.

  "I see you've reviewed the latest figures," Kaito said, gesturing to Diego's datapad.

  Diego nodded, switching to the projection mode to display the inventory charts in the air between them. "O'Reilly's team has exceeded their quotas. The new refinement process is paying off."

  "We've made significant progress, but we need to maintain this pace to ensure we have enough for future portal operations," Kaito said, studying the holographic numbers with intense focus.

  Diego traced a finger along the projected growth curve. The upward trend was encouraging, but Kaito was right, they couldn't afford to slow down. Every gram of stabilization alloy represented another chance to save lives, to bring more people through to Haven.

  "I'll have Jack and Alexis look at increasing the refinery's throughput," Diego said. "Maybe they can squeeze a bit more efficiency out of the system."

  Diego did the quick math. "Six more openings." The number felt both substantial and insufficient at the same time. Six chances to bring more people through to safety. Six opportunities that could mean the difference between life and death for hundreds.

  "Correct," Kaito confirmed. "Though Dr. Smith believes we might be able to optimize the usage further, potentially stretching it to seven openings if we implement her latest theoretical adjustments to the quantum field harmonics."

  Diego studied the production charts again. "And our weekly output?"

  "The refineries are producing roughly forty kilograms of stabilization alloy per week under optimal conditions," Kaito said. "Enough for nearly one additional portal opening every eight to nine days, assuming we maintain current efficiency levels."

  Diego clapped both men on the shoulder. "Outstanding work, both of you. Keep this pace up and we'll have enough resources to make every opening count."

  O'Reilly's face lit up at the praise, while Kaito gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, his usual reserved demeanor softening just a fraction.

  "We won't let you down, sir," O'Reilly said, straightening his posture with renewed determination.

  Diego noticed the flash of pride in Kaito's eyes, though the man's expression remained carefully controlled. It reminded him of their long history together, how far they'd come from that first meeting in Tokyo. Now here they were, working side by side to build humanity's future in an alien world.

  Diego entered the Bio-Ag lab, the sterile environment a stark contrast to Haven's wild beauty outside. Banks of monitors displayed complex genetic data while incubation chambers hummed steadily along the far wall. Mei and Olivia stood hunched over a holographic display, deep in discussion about the latest embryo readings.

  His boots squeaked against the polished floor as he approached. Both women looked up, Olivia's face softening into a brief smile before returning to professional focus.

  "How are they doing?" Diego asked, studying the complex genetic sequences rotating in the air before them.

  Mei adjusted her glasses, bringing up a new set of data points. "The accelerated growth rates are consistent, but we're monitoring for any long-term effects. So far, the embryos are developing healthily."

  Diego leaned closer to examine the readouts, though the technical details were beyond his expertise. The steady rhythm of the incubators' monitoring systems provided a reassuring backdrop to their conversation.

  "We're seeing the same patterns we observed in the livestock embryos," Olivia added, highlighting a particular section of data. "The mineral content in Haven's environment seems to be promoting faster cell division and enhanced bone density formation."

  "And you're certain there are no complications?" Diego's hand rested on the edge of the console, his fingers drumming lightly against the metal surface.

  "The developmental markers are all within acceptable parameters," Mei responded, pulling up comparison charts. "Actually, some indicators suggest even more robust development than we typically see in Earth-normal conditions."

  Diego smiled at Mei, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Keep up the good work, Dr. Chen." Her dedication reminded him of Elena in those early research days, that same intense focus, the drive to understand and solve complex problems.

  Diego made his way to the livestock area, the familiar scents of hay and animals growing stronger as he approached. The sound of children's laughter mixed with clucking chickens drew his attention to the main pen.

  Mateo crouched near a group of chicks, carefully spreading feed while Amy Cooper watched in fascination. The tiny yellow balls of fluff darted around their feet, pecking enthusiastically at the scattered grain.

  "Grandpa, look how big they've gotten!" Mateo called out, his face beaming with pride.

  Diego nodded, taking in the sight of the thriving livestock. In the adjacent pens, goats munched contentedly on fresh vegetation while pigs rooted through their enclosure. All the animals appeared robust, their coats glossy and eyes bright.

  Ethan approached, wiping his hands on a cloth. His usual pristine lab coat was smudged with evidence of his hands-on approach to animal care.

  "The livestock are adapting well to Haven's environment," Ethan reported, gesturing toward the animals. "I really think we are going to be in great shape in the long term."

  Diego watched as Amy tentatively reached out to touch a chick, giggling as it pecked curiously at her fingers. Mateo showed her the proper way to hold one, his movements gentle and confident from weeks of experience.

  "The pigs especially are thriving," Ethan continued, leading Diego toward their pen. "They should be done with gestation in a few months but the fetus are huge." Another sign that Haven, for all its strangeness, might prove more welcoming than they'd initially hoped.

  Diego turned to Ethan, gesturing toward the greenhouse domes visible through the livestock facility's windows. "How are the crops coming along?"

  "The greenhouse yields are exceeding expectations," Ethan said, leading Diego toward the door. "The modified seeds are taking well to Haven's soil composition. We've already harvested the first batch of tomatoes and leafy greens."

  They stepped outside, the morning sun casting long shadows across the agricultural zone. Rows of crops stretched out before them, their leaves swaying gently in the breeze. Diego noticed the corn stalks stood nearly twice as tall as their Earth counterparts, their stalks thick and sturdy.

  "The field crops are doing even better," Ethan continued, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "The wheat's showing remarkable resistance to the local fungal equivalents, and the root vegetables are thriving in the mineral-rich soil. We're seeing growth rates about forty percent faster than Earth-normal conditions."

  Diego ran his hand along a corn leaf, feeling its unusual thickness. "Any concerns about the accelerated growth?"

  "Nothing significant so far. The nutrient density is actually higher than what we typically saw on Earth. Dr. Chen's analysis suggests the enhanced mineral content in Haven's soil is creating more robust cellular structures in the plants."

  "And the irrigation system's handling the load?" Diego asked, noting the crystalline-enhanced water delivery system Jack had installed throughout the fields.

  "Perfectly. The modified filtration is keeping the mineral content at optimal levels. We haven't seen any of the crystallization issues we worried about initially."

  Diego clapped Ethan on the shoulder, the younger man's enthusiasm for his work bringing a smile to his weathered face. "Outstanding job with all this, your father would be proud to see what you've accomplished here."

  Ethan's eyes brightened at the mention of his father. "Thanks, sir. We're just getting started, really. Once the new greenhouse sections are complete, we'll be able to expand the variety of crops even further."

  Diego nodded, watching Mateo and Amy continue to play with the chicks in the distance. The sight of children thriving in their new home, surrounded by growing things, made all their struggles worthwhile.

  "Keep up the good work," Diego said. "And let me know if you need anything for the expansion. We'll make it happen."

  The agricultural specialist beamed with pride, reminding Diego of Bear Williams' same determined expression whenever he'd completed a difficult mission. Like father, like son - though Ethan had chosen to fight their battles with seeds and soil rather than weapons and tactics.

  Diego stepped out of the farmhouse into Haven's morning light, the alien sun casting a familiar warmth across his face. The settlement had grown considerably since their arrival, with new structures dotting the landscape and the constant hum of activity filling the air.

  He made his way along the well-worn path toward the main facility, nodding to Sarah Chen as she hurried past with an armful of medical supplies. The route to Olivia's office had become second nature to him now, his boots crunching against the mineral-rich soil that had proved so beneficial to their crops.

  Outside Olivia's office, Diego paused to observe the latest structural additions Jack and Alexis had implemented. The crystalline power conduits pulsed with a steady blue glow, a testament to their improving infrastructure.

  He found Olivia at her desk, surrounded by holographic displays showing various data streams from their ongoing projects. She looked up as he entered, her tired smile suggesting another late-night analyzing test results.

  "Jack should be here any minute," Olivia said, clearing space on her desk by dismissing several holographic screens with a wave of her hand. "I've got the latest power consumption data ready for review."

  Diego settled into one of the chairs, noting the fresh cup of coffee - real coffee, one of their carefully rationed luxuries - waiting for him. "How bad are the numbers?"

  Before Olivia could answer, Jack's distinctive gait echoed down the corridor.

  Diego turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, recognizing the measured cadence of military boots. Admiral Williams entered Olivia's office, his posture rigid and face set in grim lines that spoke of bad news.

  "Admiral," Diego said, straightening in his chair. The weight of their shared losses hung heavy in the air between them.

  Olivia gestured to an empty chair. "Please, have a seat, Admiral Williams."

  The Admiral's weathered features showed the strain of recent events. His usually pristine uniform bore wrinkles that suggested he hadn't changed in some time. Diego recognized the haunted look in the man's eyes - he'd worn it himself after Elena's death.

  Diego leaned forward in his chair, studying Admiral Williams' face. The man's grief was still raw, but there was work to be done - work that might help ease the pain of losing Sarah.

  "Sir, we want to put you to work," Diego said, keeping his tone gentle but firm. "Your experience would be invaluable to our operations here."

  Williams' shoulders straightened slightly, a flicker of interest crossing his weathered features. The military bearing never quite left a person, even in moments of deep personal loss.

  "What did you have in mind, Martinez?" Williams asked, his voice rough from lack of sleep.

  Diego glanced at Olivia, drawing strength from her encouraging nod. Her presence had become a steady anchor in the chaos of building their new world.

  "Admiral, we need someone to structure and run an apprenticeship program," Diego said, leaning forward. "Someone who understands how to develop leaders and pass on critical skills."

  Williams' eyebrows lifted slightly, the first sign of genuine interest Diego had seen from him since the memorial service.

  "We've got young people who need training in every field - medicine, engineering, agriculture, you name it." Diego gestured to the settlement visible through the office window. "Your experience developing naval leaders could be invaluable here. You've spent decades molding raw recruits into capable officers."

  Olivia stepped closer, her voice gentle but firm. "We're not just building structures, Admiral. We're building the next generation who'll run them. They need guidance, structure, and someone who understands how to create effective training programs."

  Diego watched Williams process this information. The admiral's military bearing remained, but some of the tension had left his shoulders. Purpose could be a powerful medicine for grief - Diego knew that from experience.

  "The future of Haven depends on successfully passing on knowledge," Diego continued. "From farming techniques to medical procedures to engineering maintenance. We need someone who can coordinate between all departments and ensure our young people are properly trained."

  "The Admiral's experience could be invaluable," Olivia said, her voice cutting through Diego's thoughts. She stepped forward, arms crossed. "But we can't recreate the same systems that failed us on Earth."

  Diego nodded, memories of APU bureaucracy and military red tape flashing through his mind. The endless meetings, the political maneuvering, the focus on protocol over people - it had all contributed to Earth's downfall.

  "She's right," Diego said, turning to Williams. "We need structure and training, but not the bureaucratic nightmare that bogged down the APU. No political appointments, no arbitrary rank requirements, no pushing paper just to push paper."

  Williams' jaw tightened. "You're suggesting we throw out centuries of military tradition?"

  "I'm suggesting we keep what works and scrap what doesn't," Diego replied. "The discipline, the dedication to excellence, the emphasis on practical skills - we need all that. But the endless chains of command, the political promotions, the focus on appearance over substance? That has to go."

  "Look at what happened with the exodus ships," Olivia added. "How many qualified people were rejected because they didn't fit some arbitrary metric in an AI's database? How many resources were wasted on maintaining the bureaucracy instead of solving real problems?"

  Diego watched Williams process this. The admiral had spent his career navigating those same systems, but he'd also seen their failures firsthand.

  "What we need," Diego said, "is a way to identify and develop talent based on actual ability and character. No politics, no favoritism, no artificial barriers. Just honest evaluation and practical training."

  Williams leaned forward, his expression intense. "What we need is a way to reject the apathy brought on by the evolution of technology that we've seen through history. Look at what happened on Earth - people stopped thinking for themselves, relied too heavily on AI systems to make their decisions."

  Diego nodded, remembering the water riots in Phoenix. How many had died because an AI decided their neighborhood wasn't worth saving? The screams still haunted his dreams.

  "The APU's obsession with efficiency metrics nearly destroyed us," Williams continued, his voice growing stronger. "People became numbers in a database, their worth measured by algorithms instead of their actual abilities and character."

  Diego caught Olivia's eye, seeing his own concerns reflected there. They'd both witnessed the human cost of that system - families torn apart, communities destroyed, all in the name of technological progress.

  "On Haven, we have a chance to do things differently," Williams said, straightening in his chair. Some of his old fire had returned, burning away the edges of grief. "We can use technology as a tool without letting it control us. Train our people to think critically, to question, to rely on their judgment instead of waiting for an AI to tell them what to do."

  The admiral's words struck a chord. Diego had seen too many good soldiers become dependent on automated systems, losing their ability to adapt when those systems failed. It was a weakness they couldn't afford on Haven.

  Diego watched as Olivia's expression shifted from concern to determination. She moved to the window, gesturing at the thriving settlement below.

  "We haven't lost everything," she said, her voice steady and clear. "The portal technology is still ours. We understand it better now than ever before."

  Diego joined her at the window, noting the steady stream of people moving between the agricultural zone and the main facility. Children played near the crystalline water filters, their laughter carrying across the distance.

  "You're thinking about building more portals," Diego said, recognizing the familiar gleam in her eyes.

  "Once we've stabilized here, yes. We could explore other dimensions, find more habitable worlds." Olivia turned to face him, her hands animated as she spoke. "The multiverse is vast, Diego. There could be countless Earths out there, some maybe even better suited for colonization than Haven."

  "And Old Earth?" Diego asked, thinking of Luna and the others they'd lost.

  "The quantum signatures are still recorded in our systems." Olivia said, "we just need to solve some problems like the ability to shield our portal from safety problems like the portal being under water or in a volcano or in a vacuum."

  Diego's chest tightened at the mention of Old Earth. The thought of Luna and the others they'd lost still burned like an open wound.

  "How long would it take to develop those safety measures?" he asked, studying Olivia's face for any sign of doubt.

  "Months, maybe years." Olivia moved to her desk, pulling up schematics of the portal system. "The technology exists in theory, but implementing it..." She shook her head. "We'd need to create a way to scan dimensional coordinates before establishing a connection. Then develop containment fields strong enough to withstand extreme conditions."

  Admiral Williams stepped closer to examine the holographic display. "And the power requirements?"

  "Astronomical," Olivia admitted. "The crystalline formations we've found help, but we'd need to scale up our power generation significantly. Plus, there's the matter of stabilization metals."

  Diego ran his hand along his jaw, feeling the rough stubble there. "Could we use Haven's mineral deposits?"

  "Possibly." Olivia manipulated the display, bringing up analysis of their mining operations. "The composition is similar, but we're still learning how Haven's materials interact with our technology. One wrong calculation could collapse the quantum field entirely."

  The weight of responsibility settled across Diego's shoulders. The prospect of rescuing more people from Earth was tempting, but the risks were enormous. One mistake could strand them all in the wrong dimension - or worse.

  "We focus on Haven for now," Diego said firmly. "Get our people settled, our infrastructure stable. Then we can look at expanding our reach."

  Olivia nodded, though Diego caught the flash of disappointment in her eyes. He understood her drive to push boundaries - it was one of the things he admired about her. But they couldn't afford to gamble with the lives they'd already saved.

  Diego turned to Williams, noting how the admiral's posture had shifted during their discussion. The military bearing remained, but something else had emerged - a spark of purpose that had been missing since Sarah's death.

  "So what say you, Admiral? You in?" Diego kept his tone casual, but the weight of the request hung in the air between them.

  Williams stood, straightening his uniform in a gesture so familiar it made Diego's chest ache. How many times had he seen Elena do the same thing before a mission?

  "On one condition," Williams said, his voice stronger than it had been in days. "We do this right. No shortcuts, no compromises on quality just because we're starting fresh."

  "Wouldn't have it any other way," Diego replied, extending his hand. "Your experience, your standards, but with the flexibility to adapt to Haven's needs."

  Williams grasped Diego's hand firmly, the handshake sealing more than just a new position. It was a commitment to Haven's future, to ensuring their children would have the skills and wisdom to thrive in this new world.

  "When do we start?" Williams asked.

  Diego watched as Olivia turned to Jack Williams, her expression shifting into the focused look he'd come to associate with her tackling complex problems.

  "Get with all the department heads," she said, pulling up a holographic display of Haven's organizational structure. "We need you to organize their needs, assess candidates, and help shape both curriculum and work schedules."

  Williams nodded, already studying the display with the intensity of a seasoned commander analyzing battlefield intelligence.

  "Remember," Olivia continued, "your job isn't to teach - it's to mentor. The technicians, scientists, and doctors will handle the actual instruction. You're here to build the framework that makes it all work together."

  Diego noticed Williams' posture straighten further, if that was even possible. The man had spent decades developing naval officers - this was familiar territory for him, even if the setting was different.

  "Understood," Williams said, his voice carrying that crisp tone of command Diego remembered from their military days. "I'll need complete personnel files and current training protocols from each department."

  "Already compiled," Olivia replied, transferring the data to Williams' pad. "Luna had everything organized before..." Her voice caught slightly, and Diego felt the familiar pang of loss.

  Williams' expression softened momentarily. "She did excellent work. We'll make sure it wasn't in vain."

  Diego watched Williams absorb the data, the holographic files glowing in the dim office. He’d seen that look before – Williams in command mode, assessing, planning. Good. They needed that focus, that drive. But something else needed to be said.

  “Sir,” Diego began, stepping closer. He made sure his voice was clear, each word deliberate. “We aren’t creating a military here.”

  Williams paused in his review of the files, his gaze lifting to meet Diego’s. A question hung in the air, unspoken but clear.

  “We’re creating a home,” Diego stated, emphasizing the word. He gestured around the office, though the gesture encompassed more – the entire settlement, everyone who’d made it through the portal. “A community. Discipline, structure – those are vital. But this isn’t about rank and orders. It’s about survival, yes, but also about building something... good.”

  He struggled for the right words, something beyond just “functional” or “efficient.” He wanted Haven to be more than just a refuge.

  “People need to feel they belong here,” Diego continued, trying to articulate the nascent vision of Haven taking shape in his own mind. “Not just as soldiers or engineers or farmers, but as people. As families. We need to train skills, absolutely, critical skills. But we also need to foster trust, cooperation... a sense of shared purpose beyond just surviving another day.”

  Williams listened, his gaze steady, unblinking. Diego could see the wheels turning behind those seasoned eyes, processing, evaluating. He hadn’t expected blind agreement, and he didn’t get it. But there was a flicker of something else there too, something that wasn’t dismissal.

  “A community,” Williams repeated, the word sounding different on his tongue, less like a concept, more like a challenge. He nodded slowly. “Alright, Martinez. Let’s build a community. A community that knows how to fight, how to build, how to heal, how to... live.” He turned back to the holographic display, his fingers already swiping through the files, a new purpose hardening his gaze.

  Diego sat on a weathered boulder, watching the alien grasses below ripple like waves across the valley. The mountain wind whipped his jacket, carrying the sweet, unfamiliar scent of Haven's vegetation. The sensor arrays hummed behind him, their soft electronic pulse a counterpoint to nature's rhythm.

  The grass shifted in mesmerizing patterns, reminding him of the Pacific Ocean during calmer days. Before the waters had risen, before everything had changed. Here, though, the sea was green and living, stretching toward the crystal-studded mountains that bordered their new home.

  His hand traced the rough surface of the rock, feeling the warmth absorbed from Haven's sun. The sensors had revealed rich mineral deposits in these mountains, enough to sustain their colony for generations. But it was the view that kept drawing him back here - this reminder that they hadn't just found shelter, they'd found beauty.

  Movement caught his eye as a herd of the deer-like creatures they'd dubbed "springers" emerged from a copse of luminescent trees. Their six-legged gait had seemed alien at first, but now... now it was just part of home. The herd moved through the grass sea, creating new patterns in the green waves.

  Diego breathed deeply, letting the mountain air fill his lungs. The grief of those left behind still weighed heavy, but up here, watching life flourish in this new world, he felt something else too. Hope. Not the desperate kind that had driven them through the portal, but something steadier, more substantial.

  The wind gusted stronger, and the grass below surged like a incoming tide, bending and swaying in nature's dance. Diego closed his eyes, letting the sound wash over him. It was different from Earth's oceans, higher-pitched, almost musical, but no less soothing.

  His fingers curled against the rough stone. Luna should have been here, drinking sake and terrorizing Jack with her acerbic wit. Instead, her empty quarters had been converted into additional storage, though no one had touched her personal items. Her favorite coffee mug still sat on her desk, a reminder of promises unkept.

  The springers moved gracefully through the grass below, reminding him of Isabella's delight when she'd first seen them. She'd grabbed his hand, bouncing with excitement just like Elena used to do. The memory of his late wife twisted in his chest, but now it mingled with gratitude for Olivia's quiet strength. She'd held him together during those dark days after the portal closure, when the weight of command had threatened to crush him.

  His jaw clenched as faces flashed through his mind - James, who'd died making sure others reached safety. Sarah Williams, whose expertise they desperately needed now. The countless others who'd trusted him to lead them to salvation. The burden of their loss pressed down on his shoulders, heavier than his old combat gear had ever been.

  "We're making it count," Diego whispered to the wind, his voice rough with emotion. "Every damn day, we're making it count."

  Diego shifted on the boulder, tracking a pair of springers that had broken from the herd. Their gangly offspring bounded between them, still mastering its six legs. The sight pulled a smile from him - life finding its way, even here in this alien world.

  A warm breeze carried the sweet-spicy scent of the luminescent flowers that dotted the grassland. He'd seen similar ones at Elena's memorial, their soft blue glow mixing with tears and memories. But now their presence felt less like grief and more like belonging.

  The valley stretched before him, a tapestry of colors Earth had never known. Purple-tinged grass swayed beneath orange-leafed trees, their crystalline trunks catching Haven's sunlight. The entire scene glistened with the intensity of an artist's vision, yet it had evolved into a familiar and cozy place.

  A flock of what Emily called "kites," due to their diamond-shaped wings, rode the thermal currents above. Their aerial dance reminded him of the hawks that used to circle above his childhood home in Mexico City, before the water wars had changed everything. Here though, their movements seemed more deliberate, almost playful.

  Diego closed his eyes, letting the mountain air fill his lungs. The constant background hum of the sensor arrays faded away, replaced by Haven's natural symphony - the whisper of alien grasses, the musical calls of unseen creatures, the gentle clicking of crystal growths expanding in the warmth. Each sound spoke of life, of continuation, of possibility.

  He breathed deeply again, tasting mineral-rich air that somehow felt cleaner than anything he'd known on Earth. The tension in his shoulders, built up from weeks of crisis management and difficult decisions, began to ease. This moment of peace felt earned, not stolen.

  Diego heard the soft crunch of boots on gravel behind him. He didn't need to turn - the cadence of those footsteps had become as familiar as his own heartbeat.

  "I thought I'd find you up here," Olivia said, settling beside him on the boulder. Glass clinked as she pulled a bottle and two cups from her pack. "Kaito's private stash. Don't tell him I borrowed it."

  "Borrowed?" Diego's lips twitched. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

  "Hey, I left a note. Besides, he owes me after that stunt with the generator transport." Olivia poured rich red wine into both cups, the liquid catching Haven's sunlight like liquid rubies. She handed one to Diego. "Though I have to admit, your daughter's face when she caught us raiding his office was priceless."

  Diego accepted the cup, their fingers brushing. "Maria's gotten good at that disapproving look. Reminds me of her mother."

  "Speaking of looks," Olivia nudged his shoulder, "you've got that brooding expression again. The one that makes Jack swear you're practicing for a dramatic hero pose."

  "I do not brood." Diego tried to maintain his dignity but couldn't help chuckling. "I contemplate. Strategize. There's a difference."

  "Mm-hmm." Olivia took a sip of wine, her eyes dancing with amusement. "And I suppose you just happened to pick the highest, most scenic spot for your 'strategic contemplation'?"

  "The sensor arrays needed checking," Diego protested weakly, knowing she saw right through him.

  "Of course they did." Olivia's smile softened. "Just like I needed to personally deliver these analysis reports that could have waited until morning."

  Diego took a slow sip of wine, savoring its rich complexity. "The mining operation's yielding more than we hoped. Jack thinks we can expand the crystal arrays by thirty percent within two months."

  "And with the new power output, we can finally start those hydroponics labs I've been designing." Olivia's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "Imagine fresh vegetables year-round, regardless of Haven's seasons."

  "The children would appreciate that. Isabella's been asking for tomatoes." Diego smiled, remembering his granddaughter's determined attempts to grow Earth plants in Haven's soil. "Though she seems more interested in those luminescent fruits Mei discovered."

  "She's not the only one. The whole Bio-Ag team is fascinated by their properties." Olivia leaned closer, her shoulder brushing against his. "You know, sometimes I catch myself thinking about what this place will look like in ten years, twenty years. The possibilities here... they're beyond anything we could have imagined on Earth."

  Diego nodded, feeling the truth of her words. "We're not just surviving anymore. We're building something real, something lasting." He turned to face her, taking in the way Haven's sunlight played across her features. "And I wouldn't want to do it with anyone else."

  "Even when I steal Kaito's wine?" Her teasing tone couldn't hide the deeper emotion in her voice.

  "Especially then." Diego reached for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. "You've given these people more than just a safe haven. You've given them a future worth fighting for." He paused, squeezing her hand gently. "Give me a future worth fighting for."

  Olivia's breath caught slightly at his words. "We did this together, Diego. All of it." She gestured toward the valley below, where the settlement's lights were beginning to twinkle in the gathering dusk. "And we'll keep doing it together."

  Diego turned the empty wine cup in his hands, feeling the weight of unspoken words. "When Elena died, I thought that was it. Locked everything away, focused on the mission." His throat tightened. "Didn't expect to find... this."

  Olivia's hand covered his, warm and steady. "I buried myself in quantum theories and mathematical probabilities. Safer than dealing with people, with feelings." She let out a soft laugh. "Then you walked into my facility, questioning everything, driving me crazy with security protocols."

  "Someone had to keep you scientists from blowing up the universe." Diego's attempt at humor faded as he met her gaze. The setting sun painted her face in warm hues, highlighting the determination that had first drawn him to her.

  "I was terrified, you know," Olivia admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not of the science, that I understood. But this?" She gestured between them. "Opening up again, letting someone matter this much?"

  Diego shifted on the boulder, turning to face her fully. The familiar scent of her shampoo mixed with Haven's alien flowers. "Every time I look at what we've built here, I see you. Your brilliance, your courage." His hand trembled slightly as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Your heart."

  Olivia leaned into his touch, her eyes holding his with an intensity that made his breath catch. In them, he saw the same mix of hope and vulnerability he felt in his own chest. The same desire to hold onto this unexpected gift they'd found amidst the chaos of saving humanity.

  The distance between them seemed to vanish, the entire world narrowing to this moment, this connection that had grown from respect to friendship to something deeper, something that made his heart race like he was twenty again.

  Diego pulled back reluctantly from Olivia, his mind shifting to the settlement's needs. The fading sunlight reminded him of time's constant march forward. They couldn't afford to waste daylight hours, even for moments like this.

  "We need to gather everyone," he said, standing from the boulder and offering Olivia his hand. "Not just the council, but everyone who can attend. It's time they all had a voice in shaping Haven's future."

  Olivia took his hand, rising gracefully. "The main hall should be large enough now. Jack finished the expansion last week."

  Diego nodded, already mentally listing key community members. "Have Sarah coordinate with the work groups, make sure we arrange shifts so everyone can attend." He paused, considering. "And we'll need Mei and Ethan to brief us on agricultural progress. The people should know exactly what we're achieving."

  "What about Admiral Williams?" Olivia gathered the wine cups, tucking them into her pack. "His experience with the apprenticeship program could help structure the new leadership roles."

  "Good thinking. We'll need multiple tracks, security, agriculture, engineering, and medical. Let the people choose where they can contribute most." Diego started down the mountain path, his steps purposeful. "Everyone here has skills we haven't tapped yet. Time we changed that."

  "Maria mentioned several of the newcomers have administrative experience from their old jobs," Olivia added, falling into step beside him. "They could help organize the different divisions."

  Diego's chest swelled with pride at his daughter's initiative. "Set up the meeting for tomorrow afternoon. We'll have Isabella and the other children help spread the word and give them a taste of responsibility too."

  Diego stood, his joints protesting after sitting so long on the boulder. The mountain air had grown cooler, carrying hints of the luminescent flowers that bloomed at dusk. He offered his hand to Olivia, feeling the familiar warmth of her fingers as she rose beside him.

  "The transport's just beyond that ridge," he said, nodding toward where they'd left the vehicle. Their footsteps crunched against Haven's crystalline gravel as they started down the path, hands still linked.

  The setting sun painted the valley in deep purples and blues, transforming the landscape into something from an old Earth fantasy. Diego paused at a bend in the trail, turning to take one final look at the lake. Its surface rippled with bioluminescent patterns where native fish breached the water, creating rings of light that spread outward like hopes and dreams taking flight.

  Unlike the burden he'd carried up the mountain, the weight of responsibility now settled on his shoulders. This weight felt right, balanced by the warmth of Olivia's hand in his and the promise of tomorrow glowing in the valley below.

  Around them, the indigenous flowers began their nightly display, each blossom opening to reveal cores of living light. They dotted the mountainside like fallen stars, nature's own reminder that even in darkness, life found ways to shine.