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I glance at the camera display. The Captain flails his arms, punching the ship’s exterior. The dents grow larger with every punch.
“Naomi, turn on the defense systems,” Hugh says. “Blast him with an energy field.”
My finger hovers over the button.
He’s right. I need him off our ship, but he was once a person.
“I really thought he’d be coming
home with us,” I say.
“He’s not one of us anymore,” Hugh replies, voice solemn with grief.
I press the button.
An electrified stream of blue neon forms around the ship. The Captain screams as it paralyzes his body.
He drops back into the water, eyes open. Alive, but destined to die on a ghost planet.
I salute him, and feel the ship rocket upward. Soon, we’re in the sky, tearing through clouds and rough atmosphere.
I follow the instructions the system gives me, and within a few minutes, we’re blanketed by the darkness of space once more.
I disengage manual control and lean back, chest pumping sterile oxygen. Closing my eyes, I take a moment to not only reflect, but to withdraw from the experience entirely.
There are no more tears to shed. I’ve seen what I’ve needed to see. I met the alien of my dreams.
And you know what? That doesn’t even sound weird to me anymore.
I feel his presence come behind me. His hand rubs and cups the back of my neck, fingers lightly kneading away all of my tension.
Opening my eyes, I breathe and smell his masculine scent. I love him, no matter what they do or say back at Earth.
“You did it,” he says.
I laugh and ease forward, unbuckling. I wipe the sweat from my forehead and nod. “Only because you believed in me,” I say.
“Your accomplishments have nothing to do with me. You were forced to make a decision, and you chose to lead,” he says.
I stand and kiss him, pressing my head firmly against his. I nuzzle our noses together and look him in the eye. “We’re having a baby,” I say.
“Earth’s bio-weapon,” he says, smiling.
I frown. “Don’t say those things.”
He traces his palm across my belly, resting above my navel. I glance down and reflect on my body’s growth. I hadn’t really noticed it until now, but there is a slight bump.
“If it comes from us, he or she will be good,” he says.
I feel my heart rush, and smirk. “She?”
“Anything is possible,” he says.
We have one year up here. One year to decompress. One year to forgive.
We’ll never forget what happened here. But Earth will. Probably already has.
Yes, we are the forgotten soldiers of a new tomorrow.
