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Moiety
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Of Earth
Commander Bailey sits along one of the many benches outside the C-Sec cafeteria, an open patio to the Presidium's perpetually cloudless sky and vacuum-filtered air. He rubs a hand along the back of his neck, sighing.
Sometimes he misses the hazy heat of a packed pub at night, the shadow of water-logged clouds over the horizon, the soft tang of wet cement in early Spring, the view of a waning Moon from Earth.
But mostly, he misses his children.
Mostly, he misses the word 'father'.
Earth was never more than a place he used to hail from, until it wasn't.