The first thing Casey wanted to do when she stepped off of the Eulalia was head straight to her room and sleep. The berths on Helga’s ship weren’t bad for a ship, especially given that they were made for much larger people, but Casey craved the familiarity of her own room after nearly a week away. Before she could make it to the dock door, Helga called to her.

“Hang on, I need to give you something.”

Casey stopped, closed her eye, and tilted her head up towards the ceiling, offering a silent prayer to whoever was listening. “Can it please wait, I’m exhaust… ed…”

She froze as she turned to see what Helga was holding. It was an Ulthean army jacket, with a patch on the left breast that said, ‘Brooks’.

Seeing Casey’s shocked face, Helga tried to explain herself, saying, “I found it when we were clearing the Hope. I wanted to give it to you earlier, but I couldn’t find a good time.”

Wordlessly, mouth still agape, Casey slowly walked up to Helga with shaking hands outstretched. Helga passed the jacket to her, and she managed to rasp out, “Thank you,” before clutching it to her chest and running from the dock, bags forgotten.

…

Hours later, Casey woke in her bed, still gripping the jacket tight to her chest with her right arm, the other having been discarded on the floor of her room. It still smelled like him. She hadn’t dreamed of anything. She wasn’t sure that she had slept at all. Her right eye was crusty from dried tears, and it stuck for a second when she tried to open it. The self loathing and grief was back in full force, drilling into her chest and making her sick. She thought she had managed to get over it already. There was so much to do (not that she wanted to do it), but she just wanted to lay there and die.

A look at her bedside clock told her it was midday. So she’d missed lunch, but could probably still pick something up if she wanted to. She didn’t want to, of course, but she could. 

With a deep breath, Casey forced herself to sit up. She stared at the jacket, remembering Nate and trying not to at the same time. He had been the one good part of Ulthea aside from Benni. Even with everything he had been forced to do, he had still risked his life for her, believed what she told him. She recalled the separatists, all those years ago.

…

“Casey! …New jacket?” Vulka asked.

Casey’s voice made it clear that there would be no further discussion about the jacket when she said, “Yep.” It was too big, of course, but it didn’t stop her wearing it, sleeves rolled up and flopping against her wrists. Something about it was calming.  She stepped to one side and waved Vulka into the dock. “Ready to do some final testing?”

“It’s about time,” Vulka said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s float this tub.”

Final testing meant flight practice. Benni was able to fly on its own with Casey’s direction, but it was important for her to understand how to fly for her Hauler registration. She had gotten a manual on space traffic control protocols, and the Benevolence had modules on piloting she could use. The plan was for Vulka to remain in the dock for testing comms (in order to avoid annoying space traffic control) and providing moral support, while Casey took the ship out to a safe distance and practiced maneuvers. 

She settled into the pilots seat, trying to ignore the feeling of dread it gave her, and spoke to the ceiling. “Benni?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Are you ready to fly again?” Casey asked.

“All System Nominal. Are You Ready, Captain? Scans Indicate Increased Heart Rate And Cortisol Levels. This Is In Line With Signs Of Stress.”

Casey frowned. Sometimes it was too smart for its own good. “I’m fine, Benni. Sitting here gives me a familiar feeling. We can get started.”

 “Yes, Captain. Starting Pre-Flight Procedures.”

Casey and Benni had taken a moment to talk about their new crewmate before Vulka arrived. It seemed amenable to the idea, even with Casey’s carefully worded concerns. ‘Weirdness’ wasn’t something that mattered to an AI, Casey supposed. Benni, for its part, assured Casey that it would keep a close eye on Frances, and trusted Casey to keep it safe as well. That was that. Neither of them had a choice, but they would do their best to make it work. It was nice to talk about things with someone (or, something) that was so straightforward for once.

 As the ship hummed to life, Casey keyed the comms, dialing to the listed standard station frequency. “UAN Benevolence to Brock Station.”

“Reading you loud and clear, Benevolence,” came the smooth and practiced reply from space traffic control. “Good to finally hear from you.”

A sigh of relief escaped from Casey before she realized she had been worried that the comms might still not work. They had been tested beforehand, but it was hard to shake her anxiety. She studied the manual for a second before speaking up again. “Same here, control. Uh… We’re going to be doing some practice maneuvers. Getting a feel for the repairs.”

“Copy, for that we’ll need you to head a ways out. Your space is clear, if you taxi about a thousand solar units out of orbit, you’ll have the room you need.”

“Space clear, one thousand solar units,” Casey repeated. “Benevolence starting take-off.”

“Copy, starting take-off. Have fun out there.”

Casey double checked the module on a screen in front of her. The docks on Brock Station didn’t have docking arms the way Ulthean stations did, but that just meant she’d have to skip that step. The scary parts (take-off and landing) could be handled by Benni, for now. Eventually she would need to learn, just in case, but this was what ship AI were for. They handled the more boring and dangerous parts of flying so that pilots could focus on the exciting and dangerous parts. 

“Okay Benni, begin take-off and taxi,” Casey said. “Just get us out a solar unit and I’ll take over from there.”

“Yes, Captain. Starting Take-Off.”

The ship rumbled as the anti-grav engines kicked on, and the landing gear retracted. Benni eased the ship through the force field that covered the dock’s space-side entrance. Once the Benevolence was through, Casey let out another sigh of relief. No hull breach alarms, which meant the ship’s seals were holding. This had been tested as well, in dock, but it was one thing to test in a controlled setting, and another entirely to be out in the vast vacuum with only your own repairs between you and it.

Benni continued to taxi out, keeping the thrusters at a safe level while they were close to the station. When they were an appropriate distance, Casey tuned the comms to Vulka’s frequency and took hold of the controls.

“Benevolence to Space Man, are you reading?” 

The callsign had been Vulka’s idea. Casey was going along with it under duress. His voice crackled over the comms, “Space Man reads, loud and clear. You can hear me?”

“If I didn’t have the Intra Lingua, I would think my comms were broken,” Casey said. “Do Spacewalkers use radio?”

“Speakers on our suits are for you fleshies,” Vulka said. “We have telepathic galaxy link.”

“Excuse me? How am I just now learning about this?” Casey asked, nerves forgotten under the light of this new knowledge. 

“Because I was exiled, remember?” Vulka said, impatiently. “Focus on your tests. Comms work, what next?”

With a shake of her head, Casey said, “Right. Moving away from the station. ETA five minutes to our practice area.”

“Copy, five minutes. I’ll check in then.”

Casey jiggled the controls a bit, getting a feel for the various paddles and sticks at her fingertips. All she had to do right now was increase the thrusters and head straight for five minutes. Benni had even helpfully added a heads-up display to the cockpit window detailing their heading and the vectors needed to reach their destination in the allotted time. With a deep breath, Casey pushed forward on the throttle, slowly taking it higher as she listened for any signs that the engines were going to do something stupid. When they failed to do so, she let the breath out and watched the heads-up display, ready for when she would need to reverse thrust.

Finally at their practice area, Casey brought the ship to a relative standstill with the distant planet Brock Station orbited. She was a minute early due to her inexperience, too much thrust when accelerating, too much when decelerating (and she felt it in her neck). It was open space, well away from any other ships that might get in the way. The other planets in the system were bright specks against the background of pure blackness, almost indistinguishable from closer stars. Casey could imagine she was truly alone. A strange sense of deja vu came over her, and she felt as though she had gone back in time to when she had escaped Ulthea.

Something occurred to her, then, staring into the infinite distance. There was nothing stopping her from leaving now. Nothing to stop her setting a random course and leaving everything behind. That way, no one else could be put in danger. The lack of rations, lack of knowledge of the Frontier, and her mission to warn the galaxy about Madsen Lawsek became background concerns as the hypnotic call of the void swept over her. If she died, either starving or caught by a patrol, then so be it. It was better than dragging any more people into the mess that was her life. Her lips had just begun to form around the words that would command Benni to jump, when–

“CASEY!!”

The spell broke, and Casey was jerked back into awareness. Vulka was shouting on the comms. Had Benni turned the volume up? Fumbling the receiver once or twice, Casey finally managed to key the comms and respond. “Hey, hey, I’m here.”

“Don’t do that,” Vulka said, clearly concerned. “I’ve been trying to reach you for entire minute!”

Casey bit her lip. What was she thinking? How would she feel if one of her friends just disappeared, no warning, no message, never seen again? She knew how she felt when she heard Nate had been taken away. Gripping the sleeve of the jacket, she said, “I’m sorry, Vulka. I, uh. Just had a bit of a moment.”

There was silence on the other end for a moment, then Vulka spoke again, sounding deadly serious. “…I think you meant to call me Space Man.”

For a second, Casey froze as the shift in priorities dragged her even further out of the haze she had been in, then let out a snort of laughter. “Space Man, I’m gonna strain you through a colander.”

“Copy, Benevolence, metal or plastic?”

“Does it matter?” Casey asked with a tired smile. “You’d dissolve either.”

“And don’t forget it.” Vulka replied, still feigning seriousness. “I’ve got eyes on you. Begin practice maneuvers.”

Flying an Ulthean Heartland-Class gunship turned out to be trickier than expected. These ships had been designed to fly the same way in vacuum and in atmosphere, which gave pilots an easy transition whenever air support on planets was needed. Foot pedals turned the ship clockwise and counter-clockwise like a flying disc, while a stick and wheel between her legs allowed Casey to perform loops and rolls. Despite the size of the ship, it could practically turn on a dime, leaving Casey’s head spinning when she gave too much power to the foot pedals, or twisted the wheel too hard. Since this was in vacuum, these over-turns would have left the ship spinning out of control, and Casey passed out in the pilot’s seat. Thankfully, Benni was always there to stabilize any spin. This, of course, lent Vulka plenty of amusement.

After a few hours, Casey was getting the hang of it. Regularly working in zero-gee was a big help, even if she didn’t quite match the grace she had in a repair bay. Her lack of depth perception was aided by various readings on heads-up displays and instrument panels. Benni was needing to assist less, and Vulka was beginning to issue more compliments than jokes. Part of Casey even found herself having fun, once she stopped making herself dizzy. The ship was feeling more like an extension of her body than a big clumsy machine.

Later, at dinner, Casey and her friends discussed working with the Haulers and her talk with Frances. She was aware of the stares she was getting because of Nate’s jacket, but now she welcomed them. More accurately, in her own head, she challenged them to do something about it. This was Nate’s last imprint on the galaxy. It wasn’t a display of Ulthean pride. It was a display of her respect for the individuals trapped within Ulthea’s borders. She was learning to fight, and now to fly, not just going off of instinct. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to go back to how things were, but she was going to do everything she could to control what came next.