The meeting breaks up shortly after the vote. I elbow my way through the crowd formed at the door, searching out Captain Wells. I keep at least three people between Harrios and myself at all times. The scowl on his face has hardened, ready to murder, and I don't want to get in front of that.

I catch up with Captain Wells near the lifts. It amazes me, still, the sheer size of the Posterus stretching before us. We stand on an upper deck overlooking the main concourse two kilometres in length. I can hardly make out the details at the other end. Above us, the ceiling towers. It's covered by metallic glass, projecting a constant night sky.

I found a book once, among my father's things, called Jonathan Livingston Seagull. And it always struck me, that he never once thought of the sky, only the ocean below and the way it felt to dive toward it. The air through his feathers, land rushing to meet him. I remember wondering how something so much a part of the sky could take it for granted. I felt let down that he didn't spend more time describing the sky. If I had the chance, I would never take the shades of blue and the clouds and the lightness of it for granted.

"Captain Wells, may I have a word?" She turns, her head at breast level, and stares up at me with dark expectant eyes. "As you know, we have Davis Sarka in our brig. I don't want to take him with us on our exploration. When can we arrange transfer to the Posterus' brig?"

Of course he survived. The man is indestructible. When my crew found him wedged under a bulkhead, there wasn't a scratch on him. Both members of his crew weren't so lucky. We still haven't found them.

She blinks a couple of times, her eyes, if possible, going darker, then says, "Our brig?" She shakes her head. Her white hair moves with it like it's sculpted there. She takes my arm and pulls me aside, and from her expression, I know what she's about to say will not make me happy. She's got that look people get when they're trying to think of the best way to let you down easy. "I know it will be an inconvenience, but it's best if you keep Sarka with you. Union fleet has training to deal with the Burrs that we don't." She gestures to a man standing a few feet away. He's so thin, his stomach is concave. His pale face searches the crowd, watching, but it's only cursory. Behind those eyes, no one's home. His mind is miles away.

"That's Brian. He's our security on board the Posterus. He won't be much use if we have to deal with Sarka."

"That's your security?" I'm stunned. I look out again at the vastness of this station.

"He's not our only security, but he's a good representation. We're a small community, Captain Kellow. Yes the ship is big, but the settlement itself is small, especially if this were the Belt. Both the Persephone and the Brimley have brigs and ample security. We don't foresee the need to have more than that." Someone beside me snorts.

Harrios, who has maneuvered his way through the crowd, stands next to me. "We'll see how long that lasts." For once we actually agree, but I keep my mouth shut.

"But what am I supposed to do with him? I can't keep him in my brig forever. It's tempting, believe me, but inhumane."

Captain Wells shrugs. "I'm afraid I can't help you with that. The jurisdiction is clear. He's Union fleet's problem." My mouth falls open and I close it. Harrios raises his hands like it's not his problem either. Great. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

Her attitude is understandable. Sarka has a reputation for being brutal and dangerous. If I were in her position, I would do the same. He's a problem no one wants. Most of all me. A large part of me wishes he'd died in the explosion. It would serve him right after he tried to blow us all up.

Captain Wells steps into the lift, and I move to follow, but Harrios taps my arm. I suppress a sigh, hold back, and watch as all hope of offloading Sarka disappears behind two metal doors.

I turn toward the stairs instead of sticking around to hear what Harrios has to say in front of a dozen or so strangers. The meeting has dispersed, but there's still a lot of people milling about. Every few seconds I have to squeeze between one person or another. Behind me the captain huffs and snorts, like he's walking up the stairs instead of down.

He catches up to me at the bottom, matching my stride. It's getting on my last nerves the way he stomps after me. I stop and turn, he almost rams into me.

"What?" I say. My hands grip my hips. "Is there a reason you're following me?"

I don't like his expression. His face is so pinched the skin between his brows has almost swallowed his eyes.

"I don't know what the hell you're up to, Kellow. If you want my position on the council, you're going to have one hell of a fight ahead of you." Again, his hands slide down the front of his tunic. His fingers caress the medals like they're a sign that says he's better. My uniform is bare compared to his, especially today. The only pin above my breast is my captain's insignia.

With everything that's happened, I've had no time to think let alone worry about my appearance. Harrios plays the career officer well. If he hadn't joined this mission, he would've done well in the Commons. I was very surprised when I heard his was the other fleet ship selected.

I huff and turn to leave. I don't need any of his posturing bullshit. Not today. But I know he'll stalk me all the way to the med centre. So instead I say, "The idea of laying up for half a year when we have one of the greatest opportunities human exploration has ever known, is so short-sighted. But if that's your thing, by all means, have at it. But I'll be damned if I give up this chance to see what's out there." You can keep your fucking council position. I don't say the last part. Letting it lose in my mind makes me feel better.

"You expect me to believe that show was so that you didn't have to sit around for the next couple months?" He smirks, like I couldn't be telling the truth. His tone and that look gets my back up like nothing else. I can actually feel my nostrils expanding like a bull ready to charge.

But I hold it in. I tuck the anger deep, like always. "To be honest, I don't care what you think." I stalk off and leave him standing in the middle of the laneway, dwarfed by the soaring concourse.

It's a good hike from the command centre to the med centre, and as always, the exercise helps calm my mind. It feels almost like walking through one of the major avenues on Alpha. Only this is more...I don't want to say rustic, because it's not. But there's a pioneer vibe to the whole thing, as if they've channeled Earth's early settlers.

Some of the stores are still boarded up, having sustained damage during the explosion. But others, like the food stalls and cafes, are packed with customers. There's a party vibe floating around. And why not, we all survived our first test. Space is a dangerous place. If you don't have the balls to hack it, you shouldn't be out here.

Most of the Posterus, the ones that will make up the majority of our population, are looking for a better life. They're from places like Epsilon and Delta. I don't blame them. Who would want to stick around for a job in the mines or farms? I sure as hell didn't. Others are adventurers. They're looking to explore without having to join Union fleet or become an asteroid miner. And others still are looking to get around the one child law. Out here, it's encouraged to procreate. Back on the Belt, pregnant women are viewed with equal parts envy and wariness. Resources are scarce.

After humans fled Earth to colonize the asteroid belt food is less a privilege and more a luxury. I've heard of kids starving to death, especially in the group homes on Epsilon. There are a lot of accidents in the mines. If you're unlucky enough to be born on Epsilon and your parents die in the mines. They put you in a group home where one day you'll take their place. Every child, once cherished, is now seen as another mouth to feed. It's no wonder thousands signed up. Everyone here will be dead long before we reach our destination. But it's still a hell of a lot better for some than life on the Belt.

I enter the med centre located on the Posterus' lower decks looking for Ash. With everything that's happened I haven't had a chance to see her. I only have the doctor's word she's alive. But I need to see it for myself. I need to make sure she's all right.

I still don't know how it's possible. No one does. Even Hartley said she should be dead. We all should. I spoke to him yesterday evening. He said he grabbed her so she wouldn't fall into the engine pit. As soon as he touched her his hand felt heavy like it had become the weight of her and himself combined. And then there was this sense of lightness like they were floating and everything went white. That's all he'll say. He can't remember anything else, and I can tell it's infuriating him not knowing.

He woke up on the floor in the engine bay with Ash next to him. His grip was still fused to her forearm. He wasn't hurt.

But Ash...

The doctor said she had burns on most of her body and a dislocated shoulder. Her right hand gripped some device of Hartley's. He removed it along with most of the skin on her palm.

I hear her before I even reach her room. She laughs at something someone's said and I walk a little faster.

Ash.

I stop before I enter and stare. From where I stand, I can see her, but she can't see me. A blue sling holds her arm tight against her chest, keeping it immobile. She's in a hospital gown, her leg flung on top of the blanket. There's a deep purple bruise along her calf and grafting bandages on most of her left side. She looks so small sitting in the hospital bed I have an urge to encase her in protective foam.

Her face is still lit up from laughter, acting as if she were sitting in the mess not the hospital covered in burns. She doesn't look like she almost died two days earlier. She's pulled her auburn hair back into a messy pony tail. And her pale skin has a healthy flush to it.

There's someone sitting on the bed in front of her. I can't see who it is, but when I hear that booming laugh, I realize it's Hartley.

"I guess I should be happy, even if I don't get a school named after me," he says. "You think the captain will let me name the incident after myself? That is, when I figure out what and how it happened. The Hartley incident, sounds pretty cool, right?"

Ash's face drops a little, she picks at a piece of lint on the bed. "Have you seen her?"

"The captain? Yeah, I briefed her on what happened in the engine room earlier. She has a meeting with the council today. I didn't tell her it was your idea to eject the core. She seemed kind of mad at you, so I let her think it was my idea." I roll my eyes at this, like I thought for a second anyone but Ash would be behind such a self-destructive idea.

"Thanks, Hartley." She reaches out and grabs his hand. "But I doubt she bought it." There's silence for a few moments and then she asks, "How did she look? She didn't get hurt or anything did she?" I feel guilty now. I shouldn't be eavesdropping on such a personal conversation. I begin to move away to come back later, but Hartley's next question stops me.

"Is it true then? You and the captain?"

I'm surprised as hell to learn this has been a topic of conversation. Not that much happened. One night. But I thought we'd been discreet.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She scowls, pulling her hand back.

"Oh come on, everyone's heard the rumours. Well I guess you haven't since no one ever talks to you except me and the captain. And also the rumour's about you, so I guess they wouldn't tell you even if they did like you." He takes a breath, then continues. "But there's a rumour going around about you and the captain..." He lets the sentence trail off and everyone's imagination goes places it shouldn't.

But what she says next tears at my insides more than anything. "Do I look stupid? Do I look like I'd be dumb enough to get involved with my commanding officer?" He doesn't say anything. Ash huffs and turns away from him, her free arm coming up awkwardly to cross at her chest. "Well, I'm not, Hartley. There's nothing going on between us. And I don't care who thinks there is, they can go to hell."

I lean my head back against the wall. My eyes close and I breathe for a few seconds. Of course, she's right. There isn't anything going on between us. There can't be. But if I'm being honest with myself, there's more there. Our relationship goes beyond command and friendship. The way she says it though, like it's nothing to her, fills me with shame. Shame at the way I behaved, shame at my own constant selfishness. Always that.

I push off from the wall and rush toward the exit almost laughing at my own unerring selfishness. If I see something I want, it doesn't matter what I have to do, who I have to hurt, I'll get it in the end.

*************

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