“I’m sorry, Miss Griffith. We did everything we could.”

I blinked up at the handsome young healer standing in front of my chair. His name was Tyr, according to the fine embroidering on his white coat, which was now wrinkled and bedraggled, speckled with blood and other unidentifiable body fluids. He had been the first one to meet me when I came screaming through the doors of the emergency outpost last night, just one of the many healers who’d been in and out of here as the hours seemed to drag on forever. The poor guy looked tired. No, not tired. Exhausted. 

“What?” I asked. I don’t even know why. I heard what he said. Maybe I was just exhausted, too. Gods knew it was true. I was wiped out. Bone-weary. Depleted. 

He reached out and placed a large hand on my shoulder, intending to provide comfort, I’m sure. But I didn’t feel anything. Not a fucking thing.

“His injuries were just too severe,” he said. “I’m afraid he’s gone.”

I stared into Healer Tyr’s eyes for a moment longer as I processed those words. He had kind eyes, a few laugh lines stretching to just below his thick, dark brows. On a woman, they might have been called crow’s feet, but they only seemed to add to his appeal. Not really fair, if you asked me. 

He was staring back at me, studying me with concern, and a slight frown marred his tender features. Hell, I felt like I should be the one consoling him instead of the other way around.

I had no idea why I was sitting there weighing the guy’s appearance. It wasn’t like I was attracted to him or anything. It was more like playing a game of Oddball, trying to find the thing that didn’t belong in the picture. It just struck me as strange that he was here. He didn’t belong in this place, didn’t quite seem to fit. He was all light and warmth and life. This place was dark and ugly and stank of death. 

And just that quickly, I found I couldn’t breathe. It was like the oxygen was suddenly sucked out of the room or my blood vessels had forgotten how to diffuse air. Whatever it was, I couldn’t stand to be there for a moment longer. I lurched out of my chair and skirted around him toward the exit.

“I’ll send for the remains,” I said numbly, before turning to meet his eyes one last time. “Thank you.” 

A moment later, I passed through the portal, emerging into the courtyard of my ship, the Argenam.

It wasn’t a real courtyard, of course. It was just a holographic display for the launchpad, intended to provide a warm welcome for guests and a happy sendoff for visitors. Not that a lot of guests arrived or departed by portal. Hell, hardly any. Teleportation technology was still too new, and people were afraid of it. I counted myself in that category as well, preferring all my bits and bobs to remain solid as much as possible. But not Sparrow. He had been fearless, and had always been certain that the tech was going to catch on, kind of like mullets and intergalactic telecom booths. Personally, I had a hard time believing that anyone would ever clamber to scan themselves down to the subatomic level, disintegrate all their favorite body parts at point A, and intentionally send them hurtling across some dark dimension to reassemble at point B. That was the difference between me and Sparrow. 

Gods, I missed him already.

I glanced over at my cousin’s favorite bench, the 5D replica that stood beside the footpath lined with yellow daisies and purple fluketails. The one that was now stained red with his lifeblood. My beloved Sparrow. My last living relative. Well, the last one that I’d still claimed. I supposed that technically there was one more left. I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes, debating my next steps. 

“Fuck him,” I shouted angrily. “He doesn’t deserve to know.”

Still, as pissed off as I was, I knew it wasn’t for me to judge. Sparrow would have wanted him to know, would have wanted me to deliver the news in propria persona. Because my cousin was a good person, a kind, forgiving person who would much rather dance his way through life than walk stiff legged through it carrying a grudge. And in spite of everything that we’d been through, he still loved his father. Whatever. Personally, I was one grudge-carrying bitch, a scholar in the art of umbrage, so to speak. After all, I’d learned from the best. 

I stood there in the courtyard for a few more minutes trying to justify an extended trip to the outer edges of the galaxy. Maybe I could join the resistance fighters on Qulincka? Or perhaps I could crash-land on Old Earth for a few months, take in the toxic air and catch up with a few old friends? Fuck, I’d take Spring Break in Hell over a trip to Coka Tau right now. But in the end, I knew I’d do what I had to. I’d go back.

“Fine! You win,” I shouted at the ceiling, spinning on my heel and stomping to the flight deck. “I’ll do it, Sparrow. But I don’t have to like it.”

I tramped onto the flight deck and fell into the pilot’s seat, immediately pulling up the geo nav to cross-check the coordinates for the accursed trip I’d finally admitted I was going to have to make. It didn’t take long to find the information I needed.