I drifted back into awareness, groggy as hell, my body feeling like it had been used as a punching bag.

  Something cool pressed against my forehead, a relief against the dull throb behind my eyes. My mind was still foggy, but a scent drifted over me. Familiar. Comforting.

  I blinked, vision unfocused, a figure seated at the edge of my bed. The soft glow of the room cast shadows across her face.

  A weak smile tugged at my lips. "Astra?"

  Silence.

  I barely registered the words slipping out. "Thanks, Astra."

  Warmth. A steady hand resting on my shoulder. A presence I knew too well.

  I let out a shaky breath, reaching up, my fingers brushing hers. The touch sent a ripple through my chest. A memory I hadn’t meant to dig up.

  A memory that didn’t even seem like my own.

  I pulled her closer.

  She didn’t resist.

  My hand settled over hers, the warmth grounding me, anchoring me to something I wasn’t sure was real. Astra had always been the one to patch me up, keep me steady. Just like this.

  "I missed you," I murmured, half-conscious, my voice barely a whisper.

  A small pause. Then—

  “...It’s not….”

  The voice wasn’t Astra’s.

  It was hesitant, almost careful, but the hand stayed. The warmth stayed.

  Somewhere between dream and memory, I let my eyes close again.

  BZZZT.

  The speakers crackled.

  “Finally awake, Commander?”

  The warmth yanked away.

  I blinked, the haze snapping as my vision cleared—

  Not Astra.

  Zara.

  She was standing next to the bed, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, looking like she’d just been caught doing something she couldn’t explain.

  I opened my mouth—

  "Zara—"

  Her expression flashed with something... embarrassment? Frustration?—before she straightened, crossing her arms.

  “Commander, we’ve sustained significant damage to the aft engine and thruster alignment. Current trajectory will not reach Kelthar-3 in this condition.”

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  Groaning, I pushed myself up, every limb screaming in protest.

  “Ugh. I feel like I got thrown through an airlock.”

  “I was starting to wonder if you died,” Zara muttered, shifting awkwardly. “You were out for hours.”

  I ran a hand down my face, trying to shake off the lingering static of sleep.

  “Yeah, well, it’s not every day I use my brain to crush spaceships.”

  Ares, chimed in. “Perhaps next time, limit your exertion. You’re not dead, but you are... compromised.”

  I squinted at the console. "Compromised? What, like emotionally?"

  “No, Commander. Like an overclocked processor on the verge of a meltdown.”

  Zara snorted.

  I sighed. Even my ship was giving me shit.

  "Alright, fine." I stretched, groaning as my back popped like bubble wrap.

  KRK. Oof. That one felt important.

  "What’s our next move?"

  Ares’s tone turned robotic once more. “We require repairs before proceeding to Kelthar-3. Would you like coordinates to the nearest viable station in the Helios Drift?”

  I rubbed my temple. More detours. More chances for someone to catch up and put a blaster round in my skull.

  I glanced at Zara.

  She was watching me, unreadable, until she huffed and checked a holo-watch on her wrist. A faint map projection flickered over the display.

  “We should reroute to Hylan-7,” she said. “Basic repairs, fewer cartel goons. It’s safe enough.”

  "Hylan-7?" My eyebrow shot up. "We don’t have enough credits to get full repairs there. Barely enough to keep the drinks coming."

  Her eyes narrowed. "And yet, we’re somehow supposed to limp to Kelthar-3 on a ship that’s falling apart?"

  ...Okay, fair point.

  Still, I wasn’t about to crawl into some overpriced pit just for a quick tune-up.

  "Ares, what did you have in mind? Something cheap. Like, cheap cheap."

  "One possible solution: reconnect with your former crew mechanic, Nyx. She is currently stationed at Skov’s End."

  Not a terrible idea. Nyx was great, Skov’s End, not so much.

  A pause.

  "…Not precisely high-end, but known for reliable, if… unconventional, repair services."

  Zara gave me a look.

  "Let me guess—another rogue?"

  I shrugged. “Nyx has her talents. And labor for repairs would be free.”

  Ares’s voice hummed with that familiar, dark amusement. “Our esteemed former mechanic Nyx has a unique skill set. Probability of successful repairs and safe departure: sixty-five percent.”

  I snorted.

  "And the other thirty-five percent?"

  "You drift into open space until starvation or system failure claims you. Not optimal, but you requested options."

  Zara folded her arms, watching me with thinly veiled amusement.

  "Oh, how romantic," I said, deadpan. "We’d die in each other’s arms."

  She rolled her eyes. "You tell Astra about that, I’ll kill you."

  "Noted."

  Honestly?

  If it was 50/50, I’d still take the bet.

  Sixty-five percent? That’s practically guaranteed.

  “Good enough for me.” I gave Ares the nod. “Set course for Skov’s End. It’s probably our only shot at getting the Valkyrion back online without having to sell a kidney.”

  Zara didn’t argue this time, just gave me a curious look, arms still crossed.

  "Why’s it called Skov’s End, anyway?"

  I leaned back, hands tucked behind my head.

  "Long story. Some idiot named Skov made it his life’s work to claim that asteroid. Promised riches, security, a fresh start. Then one day... poof."

  I snapped my fingers.

  "Vanished. No trace. Now every desperate bastard with a death wish sets up shop there, hoping they’ll do better. They don’t.”

  Zara raised an eyebrow. “Sounds inviting.”

  “It’s got charm.” I shrugged. “Plus, the repairs will be cheap, so what’s not to love?”

  BZZZT.

  Ares’s voice cut in, a little too cheery for what he was saying. “Commander, initiating warp to Skov’s End sector. Estimated travel time: fourteen hours.”

  The Valkyrion jolted, the warp drive spooling up beneath us. Outside, the stars stretched, turning into long streaks of white and blue as space bent around us.

  A deep vibration rumbled through the ship, settling in my bones like standing too close to a subwoofer cranked to max.

  Not painful, not uncomfortable—just off. Like gravity forgot how to work right for half a second before snapping back into place.

  I let my head hit the pillow.

  Fourteen hours. Enough time to rest. Maybe.

  Zara sat across from me, arms folded, watching with that same mix of amusement and suspicion. Like she was still deciding whether I was an idiot or a genius.

  BZZZT.

  Ares again. "Preliminary scans show hostile presence around Skov’s End."

  A pause.

  Then, way too casually—"Please note: likelihood of engagement upon arrival is high."

  Zara’s head snapped toward me. “Still think this is better than Hylan-7?”

  I grinned, adjusting course.

  "Absolutely."