For the third time in a year, Casey awoke in the medbay on Brock Station.

Slowly, she came to terms with her environment. The pristine medbay was empty, save for her. She was in one of the unusually comfortable beds. That was fine. There was an oxygen mask on her face. Uncomfortable, but probably necessary. A few monitoring instruments beeped softly, connected to her right arm and chest, and an IV drip had been inserted into her wrist on the same arm. Best to leave those. Hair covering her eye. She lifted her left arm to brush it away. Then she screamed.

…

“Why does it hurt?” Casey asked, pleading. “Why can I feel it?”

“This is a normal part of losing a limb,” said Dr. Skisk. Casey’s scream had alerted the station guards at the door. They immediately contacted the doctor, who was now sitting at her bedside. “Some people experience nothing, some experience pain or feel as though the arm is still there. Some of it may be from the implant, but what you are feeling now is psychological.”

“That… doesn’t…” Casey could feel her entire left arm, and it was on fire. She struggled to formulate a polite response. “I didn’t feel this with my legs. What do I do?”

Where there had been a stump of an arm, there was now only a cybernetic shoulder socket with a cap over it to protect the exposed joint. She couldn’t stop staring at the empty air on her left side. Servos whirred inside the socket as she tried to move an arm and fingers that were no longer there.

“We have a few options,” Dr. Skisk said. “Pain medicine will help some, and I have a few therapies that we know to be very effective, but I believe getting a replacement arm will help you quite a lot. Ultimately the feelings will pass, it varies from person to person.”

As much as she was trying to listen, Casey was still struggling to get past the fact of her missing arm. She was on the Benevolence… and Nate was there? “What happened to me?”

Dr. Skisk took a breath. “We don’t have all the details. From what I’m told, Benni has been very resistant to assisting us in understanding. All we know is it appeared as though your friend tried to murder you, and Benni stopped him in… a very extreme way.”

Fragments of memory flickered in Casey’s mind, making her sit straight up. Those eyes. “It wasn’t Nate,” she said, nearly choking on the words. “It was Madsen Lawsek.”

“Who?” Dr. Skisk asked.

“They’re one of the Blessed. Madsen Lawsek,” Casey said. “They… I don’t know how, but they took over Nate’s body. It wasn’t him.”

Dr. Skisk looked shocked. “Your friend mentioned something like that when he was here. That person that spoke to him when he was detained in Ulthea. He was one as well?”

Casey shook her head in despair. “I guess? I–” 

She was cut off as another wave of pain radiated up her missing arm and into her shoulder, making her groan. “I think I could really use those painkillers, Dr. Skisk. Maybe some water.”

“Of course,” Dr. Skisk said. They got up from their chair and went to unlock their medicine cabinet. “I hope we did the right thing, removing the rest of your arm. Cowl insisted on it.”

Blinking back tears caused by the memories and pain, Casey nodded. “They were right,” she said. “It’s what we did in Ulthea. Are they here?”

Dr. Skisk returned with a syringe, and a glass of water. The latter was handed to Casey, who, after failing to grab it with her left hand at first, took it with her right and managed a few small sips. The syringe was injected into the IV cannula. “You lost quite a lot of blood, so you’ve been out for a few days,” they said. “Cowl got here as fast as they could when they heard the news. They arrived two days ago.”

The painkiller began to work its way through Casey’s system. It didn’t fully numb the sensation, but it helped. She placed the water on a bedside table and laid back on the bed again. “Too late…”

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Skisk said. To Casey’s ears, it sounded genuine. “He was a very polite young man. I wish I had been able to get to know him better.”

Casey didn’t respond. She wanted to thank the doctor, but if she had, she probably would have broken down then and there. Instead, she looked away, lower lip quivering. After a long, silent moment, Dr. Skisk touched Casey’s right hand.

“There is one therapy we can start today, and we should, but I need to stop Helga from barging in and bothering you,” they said. “I’m certain the guards have told her you’re awake, and it feels like you need a moment by yourself. Do you have any other pressing needs?”

Casey shook her head, still choosing to remain silent. Dr. Skisk patted her hand and hurried out of the room. Almost immediately, she heard agitated voices outside the door. It was easy to recognize Helga’s tone. Frustrated, not quite angry, but definitely wanting to get to the bottom of things. Casey couldn’t care. Her eye unfocused the more she thought of Nate, and the eyes of Madsen Lawsek. Tears dripped down her cheeks. She covered her face with her right arm and quietly sobbed, alone.

…

When Dr. Skisk returned an hour later, it was with a lightweight mirror nearly as tall as they were. “I’m sorry it took so long,” they said. “I’ve been fighting off Helga and Cowl both. Those two are far too impatient. I also had to find this mirror. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Casey said, though her flat voice and red rimmed eye said otherwise. “When we’re done I want to talk to them.”

Dr. Skisk tilted their head, and their antennae drooped slightly. “Are you sure?”

“I just want to get it over with,” Casey said. “And I need to tell Helga something. What’s the mirror for?”

“Ah! Well, this is the therapy,” Dr. Skisk said, brightening a little. “I believe you should be strong enough, let’s get you out of bed and I’ll show you how it works. Brilliantly simple.”

To Casey, it just felt stupid. Dr. Skisk held up the mirror to bisect her body, which had the effect of making it look as though she still had both arms. For twenty minutes, they ran through a series of exercises involving moving her right arm, hand, and fingers in different ways, and using the mirror image to trick her brain into still believing her left arm was there. Casey didn’t think it would work, but decided the path of least resistance would be less exhausting. To her surprise, by the end the pain in her missing limb had diminished. Not entirely, but it was less. They would repeat the therapy once a day, Dr. Skisk told her, and the pain would eventually pass.

Seeing herself in the mirror afterwards was difficult. Casey’s hair had now grown past her shoulders, and while it seemed as though someone had tried to keep it tidy, those few days of convalescence had made it into a real nest. In general, she just looked awful. Heavy eye bags, a dead stare, matted fur. While Dr. Skisk went to get Helga – with Cowl to come after – she took some time to try to brush her hair and wash her face. Washing her face wasn’t terrible with one arm, but brushing was a different story. Lapsing into habit, she tried to pass the brush to her left hand, and the brush clattered to the ground. With a yell of frustration, she punted the brush across the medbay and stomped back to her bed, hair still only half brushed. 

Such was the Casey that greeted Helga when she walked into the medbay behind Dr. Skisk with a bundle under her arm. To Helga’s credit, she didn’t comment on how Casey looked, instead opening with, “You’re sure hard to kill, aren’t you?”

Casey’s brow furrowed. “It would be easier for everyone if I wasn’t.”

Helga’s expression softened. “That’s not true. I’m sorry, Casey.”

“For what?” Casey asked. “You don’t owe me an apology.”

“For your loss, and for the conversation we have to have,” Helga said.

“About what happened,” Casey said.

“Well, yeah,” Helga said. She took a seat next to the bed. “Tek’za told me that it wasn’t actually your fr… Nate. So we took another look at the security footage. It’s the eyes, right?”

Casey winced at the mention. She was feeling less sure that she was ready for this, but it was necessary. Tough it out. Deep breath. “Yes,” she said.

Helga cursed under her breath and brought a hand to her forehead. “I don’t even know what to say. We knew they were monsters, but…” 

“I’m leaving Brock Station,” Casey said.

Dr. Skisk dropped their tablet, which clattered on the linoleum floor. Helga took her hand off her head and fixed Casey with an expression of disbelief. “Excuse me?” 

“I’m leaving,” Casey repeated. The next words tasted like poison. “I’m– I’m quitting.”

“You can’t… What are you talking about?” Helga asked.

Casey was in uncharted territory, and began to shake, either with barely restrained energy or fear. “I’m going to take the engines off of the Hope and just go,” she said. “I can’t be around people if they keep getting hurt. I can’t be here any more.”

“Hey, easy girl, let’s relax,” Helga said, raising her hands in amelioration. “I need you to take a moment and think about this, you just woke up. Give it a few days.”

“No! Did you think that was it?” Casey said, her voice cracking. She sat up and gripped the bed railing with her right hand.  “Next time they won’t try to pretend, right? They’ll go after Vulka or Listher, or you! They’ll blow up the station if it means I’m dead!”

Helga was silent for a moment, staring at Casey like she was trying to see inside her head. “We’ll talk about it,” she said. “You can have the engines, but I’m not letting you go out there alone.”

“I don’t–” Casey began to protest, but a look from Helga shut her down. “…Fine.”

“As much as I hate the idea of letting someone with no knowledge run off into the Frontier, you’re probably right about Ulthea escalating,” Helga said. “So I’ll pull some favors, see if I can get someone I trust to be your copilot.”

Casey laid back down again. Another person to get caught in the crossfire. At least it was just one. “As long as they know what they’re dealing with,” she said.

Helga grunted. “Speaking of dealing with, we also need to talk about Benni,” she said.

“What? I just told you what happened,” Casey said, hackles raising again. “Who cares if it’s uncooperative?”

“I care, because it keeps pointing every gun it has at anyone who enters Dock 313,” Helga said firmly. “It punched a hole in the station with that thing to save you, and I get that, but now we can’t get close enough to fix it.”

Casey was shocked. It had never been violent without cause before. “What?”

“I don’t know,” Helga said. “Damn thing’s like a scared animal.”

Casey immediately forgot about her own troubles. “Take me to it,” she said.