You’ll Never Return

The flight back home is hazy. Halunder fights for her life, the motor whining in protest. I can’t contain the giddiness. Nothing crazy even happened. But I left the trade routes behind. I take care weaving back into the traffic, trying not to look suspicious. The automated voice in Halunder chides me all the way back, informing me of the ship’s injured side. We break the outer atmosphere, barely making it to the landing post, touching down amidst the usual chaos of the port. The harbour has always been my favourite place next to my ship. There’s always people bustling about, motors revving, machines droning, not a moment of silence. A stark contrast to the quiet hull of Halunder when it’s just me and the whirring of the devices, my headset blinking every once and again. The air is rotten, smelling of decay. I itch to get back out into space.

“Voy.” A voice behind me makes me jump. Devon. Dark hair swaying in the hot wind. Her hands are dirty, her goggles pushed atop her head. My heart plummets into my stomach. I force a smile onto my face. Something old and almost forgotten stirs in my gut.

“Hi.” I shut the cockpit slowly, every movement deliberate to occupy my hands. “Guess where I wound up today,” I manage, keeping an easy grin on my lips. Not the person I intended to share my discovery with but maybe the only one who will share my excitement.

Her eyes pierce mine. “I saw you come in from the other side.” And there it goes. Guilt pools in my gut like an old friend, festering, never leaving. “You know how dangerous this is.”

I look away, unable to bear her eyes any longer. “I know. Nothing happened.” I think of us, way younger and still one person added, laughing, sharing sweets that made our faces scrunch. She sighs, something conflicting passing her features. “What if someone finds out? What if… what if someone other than me saw you? You’d lose your job.”

“No one will find out.” I push myself up from the gangway. “And those are a lot of what ifs.” Her eye roll is palpable in the air between us. She turns to leave. “Just promise me to be careful. I don’t want–”

I’m up in her face before I know what I’m doing. “You think I’ll ever forget? Could forget?” Her eyes widen slightly, tracking my every movement. My stupid voice wavers when I force out the next words. “He was my friend too.”

She doesn’t say a word, just turns on her heel and leaves me standing among the ships. My mind whirrs, seethes with anger and– Despite the warnings. Despite everything I’ve been taught and experienced, the sign doesn’t leave my mind. The rest of the day is made of metal and oil, hands stained with grease. Halunder purring to life again. When night falls, I lie awake in my bunk, like so often, thoughts racing each other inside my head, faraway lights twinkling welcoming, almost mocking.

The sun hasn’t even surrounded Toleriane completely before I’m up again, quietly steering my ship out of the harbour.