In keeping with the theme of the day, Trance had clothed herself in the sky. The bodice of her dress was the deep gold of the sun just before it set and the lightly flared skirt an inky black. The sun's rays stretched into that night sky before fading out, as if trying to bring its light to the darkness. Sewn into the fabric, which flowed in the island's ever present ocean breeze, was a shimmering starscape. Hundreds of tiny pinpoints and larger five-point stars were clustered together like the view from the obs deck and seemed to glow against the fabric.
Stunning was too weak of a work. Breathtaking? Not even close. After the ceremony she'd turned back into a tired woman in desperate need of a nap—which she'd gotten before their next engagement. This evening, in the fiery glow of the setting sun, she was a goddess again with the wind and flowers in her hair.
"You're late," Beka said, tone more amused than upset and, for a moment, he was confused because he'd forgotten she was there. Had forgotten anyone else existed. Beka laughed. "See, told you he'd be speechless. You owe me ten guilders."
Determined to say something, he opened his mouth but all that came out was an impotent, "I… uh…" Two weeks and four days since he'd told Trance he loved her and still, every day, he wondered how he'd gotten so lucky. How, by some miracle, the most amazing woman in three-galaxies—a woman he'd shared air with and worked beside for years—had decided he was worthy of her love. He was convinced he'd wake up find out it had all been a dream because this didn't happen to poor street kids like him. But every day, when he left dreams behind, her warmth beside him remained.
He wanted to freeze time. Stop the sun from setting. Keep her all to himself. But time always marched forward and life, with all its obligations, moved on. Her beauty and light were not for him alone, as much as he coveted it. In a few moments they'd join the party and cameras would roll, as they had all day. Their visages broadcast from one end of the Commonwealth to the other. Uncountable households watching.
Trance's gentle and soft-spoken nature had won over the hearts of the Rindrins, and undoubtedly the Universe at large. The cameras had sought her out all day, as did reporters with their comms held out for a few soundbites from the Commonwealth's heroes of the hour. Hard not to remember that they'd been considered criminals before the Seefra. Before the battle of Tarazed and the Battle of the Worldship. It wasn't the Commonwealth's fault. Trance had reminded him that the Abyss had infected the Triumvirate and in the end, light had won over the darkness. This was her proof. She'd said that this was their Commonwealth, what they'd sacrificed so much to bring about, and they had to put on a brave face to support it.
Brave words. Strong words. Laced with a capital 'r' responsibility. And a sense of duty, because she hated the cameras and the questions as much as he did.
He'd thought he wanted to be famous. Turned out fame was a misleading word. He'd just wanted his name in the history books, lots of money, and hot women fawning all over him. Instead, he was moderately well off with a reasonable salary coming in, and dreaded the next reporter to approach him with personal questions that had nothing to do with the Rindrins joining the Commonwealth. Didn't even care about the women anymore. Not when he turned in with Trance every night.
"You guys ready for this?" Beka asked. He finally looked over to her. She stood tall and confident in a white, off-shoulder pantsuit cinched around her waist with a matching belt. The hairdresser had done her hair in an elaborate braid and she'd decorated her arms in shining silver bangles. She projected power, everything expected from a Matriarch, captain, first officer, and the best damned pilot in the Universe. Yet her eyes gave her away. Guess they were all pretending.
Such was life as his mom always said.
He found his voice. "Yeah, let's get this show on the road." He offered his arm to Trance who took it with a nervous smile.
They'd covered the stairwell with flower petals and lined it with torches like those on the plateau. Along the base groups of reporters congregated. Their low voices rose together like a swarm as they announced guest arrivals as if they were holo-vid stars at an award ceremony. The group from Andromeda joined the line behind a half-dozen Perseid delegates who looked like they'd skipped right out of an ancient black and white film with their gray skin and gray outfits amid the tropical color fest surrounding them.
"You'd think after all these years we'd be used to this," Trance whispered into his ear.
"I'm never going to get used to this." He smiled wider as they approached the reporters and so did she. Snippets of the reports rose to his ears. Phrases like "recently decorated" and "Andromeda Ascendant". A pale man with a booming voice spoke of the Tagris system as they approached. Trance smiled and nodded to a couple of cameras. Beka waved. He followed their lead.
Inside was one of the most lavish parties he'd ever had the benefit of attending. He'd been on Rindra once before for a surfing competition. Beka'd only been able to give him enough extra for his entrance fee and a bit of food. He'd camped out on the beach because it was free for surfers. Far nicer than his accomodations on Earth, too, with the fresh air and ocean views free of pollution and Magog. The second night the penniless campers had built up a bonfire and watched as people arrived at an event like this one. They'd wondered aloud what was going on inside. No one had been close.
At least a hundred wooden tables sat upon a wooden floor, decorated with candles and flowers. The sweet perfume of the blossoms mixed with savory aromas of food and the fresh salted air. Fish and meat. Roasted vegetables. Waitresses with bare stomachs and waiters with bare chests carried trays laden with things he'd never seen before. The room was larger than he thought it would be from the outside. Thousands of tiny lights twinkled on the ceiling, wrapped around giant exposed beams. Wide windows on rollers along both sides of the venue stood wide open, exposing a wrap-around porch with more candles, more flowers, and more tiny lights.
"Welcome, the light be with you," a priestess said, bowing as they entered.
Unsure of the etiquette, he simply nodded and resisted the urge to say, "Back at ya." Trance pulled herself closer to him and when he looked over her brown eyes were scanning the room as if searching for dangers in the shadowy places.
"What do we do now?" he asked. Trance pursed her lips and shrugged.
"All of the official stuff happened this morning. We're just supposed to have fun and smile for the cameras. Show everyone how happy we are that Rindra has joined up." Beka said, and she too was searching. No, not searching. Seeking. She had a goal in mind, unlike Trance.
"What's up with Beka?" Harper whispered in Trance's ear. Moving only her eyes, she turned her attention to Beka who wasn't even being subtle.
"She's looking for Charlemagne." The tone was matter-of-fact.
"Why would– Oh." It hit him when Beka peeled off towards Charlemagne with a look he'd seen too many times not to recognize.
Really? Charlemagne? Couldn't have been Mr. Bare Chest and Tight Pants from Beka's flexi? Wasn't surprised she'd fallen for yet another Nietzschean. But Charlemagne. He sure hoped she knew what she was doing and that he wouldn't have to spend more time than necessary for diplomacy with the Arch-Duke. Couldn't stand the smug asshole.
"Should we just leave her alone?" he asked. Found it hard to keep the sneer off his face, much less out of his voice.
Trance laughed. "She's not alone. For what it is worth, I think he's just as fascinated by her and I am not worried."
That did help, a little, but it still felt like Beka was playing with a Saurian pit viper and just hoping not to get bitten. If Trance wasn't worried… Didn't mean he had to like the guy.
He tried to figure out what to do. "Hungry?"
"Not really."
Strange and bordering on concerning. He searched the venue for a quiet place, or one a little less crowded. A stairwell that led off the porch and down to the beach caught his eye and with a firm hand on the small of her back he guided her through the crowd. Progress was slow. Even with lips pressed together and eyes on the end goal, they were stopped.
"Nice to finally meet you. It's a shame the rest of your crew couldn't make it. I was hoping to meet Captain Hunt in the flesh." By the purr in the dark haired woman's voice, she definitely wanted to see some flesh. A quick smile and a 'we really wish there were here too'—because they really did—and they were rid of her.
"Seamus, my man, we gonna see you at the qualifiers on Rigel next month?" asked a surfer he'd bumped into at a handful of competitions before. Greg? Jeff? One of those generic human names that existed everywhere humans colonized. The polite-brush off worked on Greg-Jeff too, but not so well on Professor Ashar, the Perseid botanist, who waylaid them after.
"Miss Gemini, I was wondering if you were planning on publishing another paper on Pre-Fall marine flora in the Vedran southern sea. I found your first paper insightful." Saying they had lots to do didn't work. A promise to send anything more she wrote didn't, either. A battle waged in Trance's eyes between her need to be polite and her desire to escape. Harper eventually stepped in front of her and, maybe a little rudely, pointed out that they were off duty and he could always send a message to the Andromeda where Trance could answer at her leisure. She kissed him on the cheek after.
Over the last few months her confidence had grown. He'd thought she'd begun to believe in herself again after over a year of uncertainty and three months of intensive recovery, but out here—he wasn't sure anymore.
They passed through the rest of the crowd with smiles and nods, waves and handshakes. His stomach forgot he was on a mission. It growled at the trays of steaming food that crossed their path. His mouth joined the party, watering at bright drinks with fruity garnishes.
Trance didn't ask where they were going. She trusted him—the crazy woman. They reached the porch and moved into the open ocean air outside. A few people in fancy dress wandered the beach below as the sun sank into the glassy ocean and the moons and stars glowed in the darkest parts of the sky above. The music inside had been loud and meant to appeal to a variety of species. They'd gone for a more relaxed and romantic vibe out here. A traditional band with flutes, drums, and some sort of string instrument with a long neck and two strings played a slow tune that rose and fell with the surf, as if it were a part of nature's song. Wasn't usually his jam, but tonight it was just what they needed.
"I guess vacations in crowded resorts aren't really your thing anymore. We'll have to plan better next time. Camping on a secluded beach somewhere? A retreat in the mountains of Prious III? No one there but the monks, and they don't say much." He kept his tone light and joking. The smile was harder to maintain. There was a time when they'd lit up the night together. The louder, the better. More people? More fun. They'd drink a few. Dance until Beka, Rev, or Dylan dragged them laughing and giggling back to the Maru or Andromeda. Most nights he'd ended in Trance's company after other women spurned his advanced. Had never felt like pity, either.
She tried to smile, but it twisted somewhere along the line into a frown. Her eyes drifted out to the ocean. "I'm sorry."
They kept walking. Down the beach with a tropical forest on one side and a crystal sea on the other. The sky a gradient from fiery orange to the darkest purple. Too gorgeous a place to have so many conflicting emotions. The venue grew smaller and he wondered if it looked like they were making a break for it. Could see the tabloids now: "Engineer and Smoking Hot Science Officer Run Off for Secret Tryst During Diplomatic Event".
If only it were that simple. "There's nothing to be sorry about. What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"
He pulled her into a convenient copse of trees with twinkling lights woven around their branches, flashing through giant orange and green teardrop shaped leaves. Here, they were almost hidden from sight. A bench wide enough for two and a low table had been placed inside as if the resort had expected a pair of lovers to seek a quiet moment there. The music was softer now. In the distance, a pair of gulls called. Saying goodnight as the moons took over for the sun.
"I'm just tired and feeling…" She paused, searching for a word with little canyons forming above her nose. "Unmoored? If that makes any sense."
It did. It made perfect sense. He'd felt that way since he landed on Seefra years ahead of everyone else and more-so since Earth's destruction. Drifting. Floating. Carried by the tide wherever it felt he should be. Nowhere to call home except Andromeda, and she wouldn't—couldn't—be his home forever.
"Yeah, I think I get it."
A priest and a priestess passed by speaking in hushed tones. The male priest glanced at their copse, but quickly turned back to his companion, uninterested. Trance's gaze followed them for a stretch before it fell on him once more.
"This is such a celebration of Rindrin culture. For the Commonwealth's benefit they are giving us this grand display of who they are as a people. It's beautiful how the entire planet and their lunar colonies have come together."
"But it reminds you that you don't have a home anymore. Or a culture," he said when she didn't add anything more. Might be bit harsh, but it's what swirled around his brain. Not surprised it was going around hers. What little culture the Dragons had left to the Humans of Earth disappeared when it exploded. There would be no more Humans born from the birthplace of humanity. No more legacy. He and a handful more, people he'd probably never meet, were the last Earthlings.
"It is hard to not know where you belong." She sighed a heavy sigh. Everything had been so damned heavy for her lately and he was at a loss on how to lighten the load. Time was Dylan's answer, but it was hard to wait on time. It always moved so quickly when he needed it to slow down and crawled when he wanted it to speed by.
"You belong with us," he said as if his conviction could reassure her while deep inside he felt the same. It was nice to have people. He was surrounded by humans the way she was surrounded by the stars, yet none of them were his.
She took his hand. Hers was always so warm. "I know." Her smile was strained. "My home is now where you are, and in time it will get easier. In time I will miss my family less. I will learn to navigate this Universe blinded and taking care of my body will become second nature. It is just… Just time."
For a few minutes, they sat together on the bench watching white waves break by the light of the twin moons. A light glow on the horizon the only evidence of the sunset.
Finally, he broke the silence. "Speaking of time, how long do you think we can hide out here?"
Her smile was truer this time. "We should probably make an appearance once in a while. At least one of us."
"Can you imagine the news if they don't see us together again the entire night?"
She laughed. "They'll be too busy focusing on the elicit romance between Beka Valentine and Charlemagne Bolivar. I kind of wish I could see Elssbett's face when she turns on the news." A glint of mischief in Trance's eyes reminded him of when they were younger and first brought onto Dylan's crew. The devilish side to sweet, loyal Trance. He rather liked it.
"Bet she'll be pissed." And hot. Best to keep that one to himself. "You know, I used to think it'd be cool to be famous but I just want them to leave us alone after today."
Trance shrugged. "It's going to get worse. We are their heroes. We helped revive the Commonwealth, took on the Magog and saved life as they know it. That is why they are broadcasting every event we attend across the Tri Galaxies." She looked out towards the ocean. The same pair from earlier passed by again on their way back to the venue. Trance's eyes narrowed as she watched them go, but she didn't say anything.
She turned back to him. "People want to see their heroes. Touch them. Get to know them. It gives them hope, and that is a beautiful thing."
He opened his mouth to speak, but she leaned forward and kissed him before he could say anything.
"I know you don't feel like you deserve it, Seamus, or even want it, but you have done heroic things and that is what they see. It is what I see."
He shook his head and averted his gaze. He turned to the white waves breaking on the shore by the glow of twin moons. In that ocean he could swim. In her eyes he'd drown. "I'm just Seamus Harper, poor kid from Boston."
"No, you are the man I love and so much more than you believe you are."
The feelings got a little too real a little too fast with a knot forming in his throat and heartbeat slowing to a stop.
She put a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you go get us some drinks. I'll wait right here for you to come back."
Just like that, she gifted him the time he needed to process his emotions. He'd take it. Maybe one day he wouldn't need to.
"Something huge and fruity with an umbrella in it?"
"Yeah, that sounds great."
"Are these plasma blast wounds?" Doyle asked, though it wasn't necessary. The seeping, blackened mass on his chest spoke for itself. The wounded man looked up to her with questioning brows because she'd spoken in Common and most of these refugees only spoke their native language. These people had never imagined they'd live the rest of their lives away from the planet they called home. Much like her, if she were honest. She pulled a sympathetic smile from her toolkit, though it was hard in the face of all this destruction.
She scanned him with a scanner. "You'll be alright. Please wait here," she told him, using the language of the continent he'd come from. Benefit of being attached to Andromeda's mainframe.
"Will you help me?" His voice was hoarse. "Please, it hurts."
Another plasma burn victim rounded the corner supported by a frazzled security officer with bloodstains on his uniform. The officer scanned the corridor desperate to find a gap in the shoulder to shoulder misery and suffering that lined it from one end to the other. Doyle wished him luck. She turned back to her patient.
"We will as soon as we can. Our medical deck is filled to capacity. I'm sorry but we can only tend the most serious wounds right now. Yours are not serious." Small comfort for a man in pain but it was all she had to give. Couldn't linger here. Time to move on to the next patient.
"Why are we seeing more plasma wounds?" she called to Rommie. "And where are the medical frigates?"
Harper had called this her trial by fire after he'd uploaded a thousand years worth of medical knowledge into her brain before taking off to Rindra. That wasn't an adequate description. More like trial by fire, broken bone, bullet, plasma blast, and radiation sickness. He hadn't wanted to go, yet she was jealous anyway that his views were tropical forests and sandy beaches and hers were—this.
Too many people and not enough beds. Not enough hands either. Or medications. Or nanobots.
"The frigates are full. Almost everyone coming off the planet now is sick or injured. Keep focusing on triage. Most can wait until we jump to the refugee camps." Rommie was all business and cold logic. That too made her jealous. These people were in pain and it was hard to divorce herself from it.
A mother with a crying child in her lap reached out an arm as Doyle scanned her and the child. Radiation sickness, but not life threatening, even for the child.
"Please, my son is sick. We've lost everything. Please," the mother begged, her green eyes filled with tears that shone on her brown skin.
"It isn't serious. You'll be fine, but you will need to wait. I'm sorry." How many times had she apologized this afternoon like she was stuck on repeat?
The screen above the mother flashed and Rhade's face overtook it. Nietzscheans didn't sweat or succumb to exhaustion the way humans did, but he was harried and sunburned despite the precautions they'd taken to protect the away team. The sky burned orange behind him and there was a flurry of noise and activity all around.
"We've got another load coming. ETA 30 minutes. About forty people, all in need of medical attention. There is fighting down here over who gets off this rock next."
Her simulated breath sped up. Her thoughts raced. There wasn't enough room for forty more and this was only the first planet. Only five percent of the population remained. The most stubborn of the holdouts who'd finally realized their mistake and decided not to commit suicide a little too late. Too many to handle. People were going to die on her watch and there was nothing she could do about it.
"Doyle, copy?" Rhade asked after a long silence.
She took a deep breath. Project calm. Be calm.
"Copy." The screen went dark. "Garcia, prep a section for incoming with combat wounds. Clear out beds as soon as people are stabilized. We're going to need them."
"Aye," Garcia said, jumping to her feet with the barest hint of uncertainty on her face. Like the rest of them, the crease between her brow had become a permanent feature. Likely wasn't what she had signed up for when she went to the academy. Wasn't what any of them had signed up for.
She interfaced with Andromeda's systems and checked inventory. Trauma supplies were a bit better off than those to treat radiation sickness, burns, and dehydration but they dwindled too.
"Has it become anarchy down there?" she asked when Rommie passed her again.
"Chan, move this one into Med Deck. Stabilize him, prep for surgery, and one of us will be in as soon as possible," Rommie commanded a young, black-haired medic. He nodded and took over. Rommie moved on to the next patient and turned to Doyle. "Not far from it. Organics don't think logically when they're afraid. These people waited too long and now they fear not everyone will get off. It makes them act erratically."
Doyle sighed and looked down the corridor as if something might have changed. Maybe gotten easier. In four years she'd felt fear, anger, jealousy, happiness, and more love than she ever thought possible. She'd known helplessness when Trance lay in a coma and there was nothing any of them could do. She'd been confused at how her friend's people could have done that to one of their own. No hatred, though. And none on New Burke, either. Only abject horror at what the Dragons were capable of. But it burned inside her now. She hated the Lambent Kith Nebula. For what they had done to Trance and their role in the destruction of Earth, and for the suffering here and the suffering they had yet to see.
The hatred she kept inside and used it to fuel her. Spite was a good a reason as any to push through the mental fatigue and keep saving lives. Life was precious, no matter how small.
Still, she couldn't see a way. "We need a miracle to save all these people," she said more to herself than Rommie.
Rommie frowned, all of the emotions she'd hidden flooding to the surface. She reached out a hand to a little girl and put it on the child's cheek as she scanned her with the other. "I wish I believed in miracles."
LINE BREAK
Trance watched Harper trek across the sand, his feet leaving a trail of indents as he went. She stood at the entrance to the copse even after he'd disappeared up the distant steps and into the venue. For all of her admonitions that Beka should find a bright side in all of this—which she had in the form of Charlemagne—Trance was having a hard time doing so today.
Since they arrived, she'd been haunted by the constant, eerie, sense that someone or something lurked just out of sight. Eyes on her back. A piece of information learned long ago and needed, but beyond reach. Like when she'd lost her memories and every day she'd had to make out shapes in the fog to unravel her past. Only now, the fog was thicker and the shapes dim, hazy outlines.
Most days she wished Harper would open up to her about the hard feelings before they had too much time to stew in his heart, but tonight she'd given him an out for both their sakes. Her eyes were too heavy and she was jittery from too much caffeine. A short nap after the ceremony hadn't been enough. Homesickness twisted her gut and turned food to ash in her mouth.
Beauty all around her and all she wanted Andromeda's sheltering bulkheads and Dylan's comforting presence. Andromeda was the only place where she knew how her puzzle piece fit into the whole. There she was a friend, a sister, a daughter, a lover, and a superior officer. Not a symbol for something greater or a bright star for others to follow because they'd lost their own light.
She'd hardly enough energy left to keep her defenses up and her smile in place for the bevy of Commonwealth reporters and delegates that wanted 'just a word', much less add another hurricane of emotions on top.
As she was about to turn away and go back into hiding her gaze fell on a couple by the stairs—the same priest and priestess who'd passed by twice earlier. She watched them, curious. They spoke animatedly, and even being so far away with their faces obscured she could read the mutual respect and friendship between them. There was also familiarity in the way each carried themselves. Mannerisms she might be able to place if she studied them long enough. Another shape in her mental fog. Trance narrowed her eyes, determined to solve the mystery.
The Priestess peeled away and as she moved closer Trance was surprised she hadn't recognized Mayella earlier. Trance ducked behind the copse again in a futile attempt to obscure herself. Mayella's step in her direction were purposeful and Trance's heart sped up, certain that the High Priestess had set out to meet her. She was unsure of what that meant or why it made the air around her buzz with nervous energy.
"You are a difficult woman to get alone," Mayella said a minute later as she stepped into the little copse, an amused smile on her face. "Your human guards you well."
Trance straightened herself to her full height, still a few inches short of Mayella's, and shifted her weight so that it rested on the balls of her feet.
"His name is Harper. He is my partner, not my human." The pieces of the puzzle she'd missed earlier fell into place and the picture became clear. A huge knot formed in her throat and made it impossible to swallow. Her muscles tightened and her hands formed fists as she braced herself to fight or run. One fist hovered over the place where she normally holstered her force lance but it was on the Maru with the rest of their weapons.
Not like anything ever went wrong on diplomatic missions. Not ever. And she'd chided Harper for his insistence they bring them despite the ban. Hindsight was twenty-twenty as the humans were fond of saying.
"Are you wishing for a weapon? You know it won't do any good." She stepped closer and Trance held her ground. "You see it now, don't you? I knew you were close. I could see in your eyes that you sensed it this morning."
"My force lance would stop you long enough for me to get away. It doesn't feel very great, either. Plasma blasts hurt." Her voice was low. Dangerous. Confident. Her heart thrummed and her limbs had liquefied. Trance channeled her mother and put the command of a queen in her voice. "Remove your mask and show me your true form."
Mayella stepped passed her towards the back of the copse as she removed her mask and Trance turned to face her. A ripple formed in the air like waves of heat on sun warmed pavement. Deep brown skin with highlights of copper replaced the tanned skin of most Rindrins. Her hair shifted from brown to ocean blue streaked through with green. She shimmered still, the sparkle embedded in her skin and not the result of cosmetics as Trance had believed.
"You aren't the sun," she observed. Her heart crashed against her ribcage over and over. Every muscle ached to move and take her away from here.
"No, I'm not but I speak for her." She extended her arms out. "All you see is me. I am the air that you breathe and the sand beneath your toes. I am these trees you that you took shelter behind." Mayella moved towards her and Trance flinched despite herself. "You don't trust me."
Trust wasn't even a question. Trance's head swam. Every moment was a battle to catch her breath, to stand still, to keep her fingers from dancing. To project composure and not terror.
Mayella stepped back as if to give her space again. "I am on your side, Trance Gemini."
"I have a hard time believing that." The words came out breathless. The world had become fuzzy around the edges. She couldn't draw a full breath and couldn't think . There was nowhere to run from an Avatar. No place to hide. They had found her here and would find her again. Not like she kept a low profile or that the Nebula didn't know where she lived. And even if she hid, their sight would take them to her; it was only a matter of time. "You could be working for the Nebula."
She wished Harper would return. Not because he could do anything being weaponless as well, but because she needed to feel him beside her. To have someone she trusted to hold on to and lend her strength as hers failed.
"I am not, but I didn't think you would believe me. Not really." Something like disappointment took over for the honey and laughter in her voice. Mayella gazed over Trance's shoulder, towards the entrance to the copse. "I had hoped, but I knew it was in vain. You have no reason to trust me or my sun, but if you cannot trust me, perhaps you can trust him."
Trance turned slowly. Her heart, impossibly, picked up speed until it ached in her chest. In the entrance stood the Priest from earlier. In her fear, she had missed the second presence arrive around her, but it touched her mind now. A warm, familiar energy. A part of her life she had missed for so long now.
There was no question who hid behind the mask, but still she reached out and her hand shook as she removed it. The metal smooth against her palm and warm from its time against his skin. She let it drop to the sand at their feet. He placed a steadying hand on her waist; his warm touch a reminder of long days climbing trees and speaking of dreams and visions under a deep blue sky. Of family and love.
She stared into eyes she hadn't seen in thousands of human years. Her breath came out in a sob and she fell into his arms. He held her tight.
"Sol…" She tried to speak, but the words remained stuck inside.
"Hello, sister," he murmured into her hair. "I am here now."
