Following successful pressurization and oxygenation, all aboard reveled at the birth of our new home. Celebrations also intensified once freighter-lag had subsided and we were allowed to float around 'Freighter Sectors', freely. Upon doing so, stargazing ensued through dorm holo-windows, and it was easy to see our anthropogenic impact upon Earth. Reason being, the blue world we used to call home literally had a tinge to it - like a sapphire marble glazed in a honeysuckle hue of pollution - and I imagined the feature would remain for the foreseeable, despite our sacrifice.

    In the hours and days which followed our accomplishment, the hubs were activated, artificial gravity was set in motion, and Xen was glorified as humanity's savior. Naturally, he'd responded with another handful of monumental speeches which consisted of thanks and praise. Nevertheless, for all the reasons we knew, Xen had also emphasized that there was still hard work ahead for The Coalition.

    He was right.

    Due to the ongoing orientation to orbit, time was quick to pass us by in the exosphere and sticking to the Gregorian Calendar, it was now 2050.

    June, to be specific.

    Furthermore, back on Earth, it was storm season now. Still, there hadn't been anymore super storms since Seymour, let alone the World-Ender which Xen and his associates urged we should all still fear. If anything, Gaia was even failing to churn out Category 4's, and for Xen and The Coalition, most could assume that this was a frustrating fact.

    Nevertheless, the potential danger was always there.

    Aboard our refuge, this frustration had begun to turn into resentment.

    Was Robin Albers right all along?

    Had our three nations been far too hasty in our quest to flee the confines of our homeworld?

    Moreover, a quest which had pushed hundreds of thousands to give up their normal lives, and if so, for what?

    I tried not to think about all of the above. Instead, I tried to focus on the task at hand and kneeled to tighten my holo-laces. Sarah and I were currently tasked with keeping Mikey distracted. Reason being, he was upset more than usual. The plan was for a UNity shuttle to arrive from the tiny space station and dock in orbit of our dwarf, then take him back to New Mexico to begin pilot training. But in the wake of the twenty-seven deaths which was the total number of eligibles who'd perished, Stephen decided that no further risks were to be taken. And so, the unpredictable storm season halted any chances of Michelle taking leave from BTV in order to visit Mikey in Virgin Galactica's base of operations.

    I rose up, grabbed a few things, then followed Sarah out of our dorm. The big guy was outside of it and had already begun stretching.

    "Dude, why didn't you knock?" Sarah quipped, her face morphing to take on disappointment.

    "Because even when I do," Mikey started, "you two take forever to answer and have me out here, waitin' around like a god damn Jehovah's Witness. And so, I've just learned to wait patiently - like everything else goin' on in my life..."

    "...We know, big guy, and we're..."

    "...I know," he interjected. "You're sorry..."

    Aiming to quell the awkwardness, I reached into my old knapsack and pulled out a handful of treats. "We are. But enough of the doom and gloom - chomp on these..." I'd tossed three Spirulina protein bars at Mikey and the big guy had caught them at his chest.

    Food was another good distraction for the GGE.

    However, his glee diminished once he'd read their labels. "'Algae 'n' apricot'? Gross."

    "Totally," Sarah playfully hummed in agreement.

    Still, like every edible offering aboard our sanctuary, the bars had everything the body needed. Rightly so, I handed Sarah a bar which she pocketed, and ripped one open for myself as we moved to The Track - the elliptical mega treadmill where Star Credits were well-earned.