Chapter Four - Unexpected Loss

Chapter Four - Unexpected Loss

She escaped once. But no one escapes grief.

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Light crept into her vision, and for once, she woke slowly--unusually so. The absence of panic felt foreign--wrong, even. She wasn't used to waking without her heart already racing. Her hand instinctively searched for Idris--only to meet empty space. Her stomach twisted, heart lurching into her throat as she bolted upright, scanning the room. Her head snapped toward the door as it slid open. Idris stepped inside, already dressed, balancing a tray in one hand. She fought down the adrenaline surge and tried to distance herself from her still racing heart. She forced a smile, masking the lingering panic clawing at her chest as she sat up, feigning ease. Her brow lifted as her gaze landed on him--on the uniform. "What--" Her brow furrowed. "What are you wearing?"

He smiled at her as he set the tray down on the bed. There were two covered meals on the tray. Then he pulled at the tunic of his uniform and feigned misunderstanding. "This? This is nothing, just some new clothes."

"Apparently even newer than what you were wearing yesterday." She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "I'm not sure I like that better though. Why are you wearing that?"

He just shrugged, offering no answer.

She gave him a stern look at his refusal, but then her attention was drawn to the food. Her stomach twisted at the sight of real food. She barely had the lid off before she tore into it with her hands.

Idris leaned back slightly, blinking at her enthusiasm before chuckling. "Didn't realize I needed to bring reinforcements."

She paused, meeting his gaze for a moment before focusing back on the food. Ignoring the flicker of self-consciousness, she tore off another bite, choosing to prioritize hunger over manners. She couldn't help it. She had never had food this good before, and her appetite seemed to sneak up on her as she satiated herself.

Idris took the other plate and sat down next to her, the plate in his lap as he lifted the lid and put it on the bed next to him. He ate slowly, almost fastidiously, until he noticed she had finished eating.

She set the plate down carefully, as if that might make up for inhaling the meal. Now, with nothing else to do, she found herself watching him eat.

"So... what now?"

"You're asking me?"

"I thought you might have an opinion."

"Well, I thought we were just waiting for them to fix your ship."

A soft chime sounded from the door, pulling Brynn's attention away from whatever half-thought had been drifting in her mind.

That was new.

Up until now, doors simply slid open unannounced, whether Captain Johansen or Aria, never bothering with permission. It never occurred to her that people could request entry instead of simply taking it.

She exchanged a glance with Idris before pushing herself up to answer.

The door slid open, revealing the same officer they'd encountered on the deck. Commander... Davis? Something starting with a "D." The man who had kissed her hand like she was some lofty aristocrat or something, as opposed to some kind of urchin living out of the garbage.

As the door slid open, he greeted them with an easy, well-rehearsed smile. But when his gaze landed on Idris, something flickered--an almost imperceptible shift.

"Ah, good. You're both still here," he said.

Idris smiled back. "Yep, still just weathering all the awful perks the delegate quarters have to offer us. What can I do for you, Commander Darren?"

Right. That was his name. At least she'd been close.

He shrugged and looked over Idris' shoulder in a question. Idris and Brynn both moved to let him pass, and as the door slid shut behind him, he stood in front of the in the middle of the room.

"I was in the neighborhood and thought I would stop by to give you an update. Everything is going smoothly, I even got the weapons we talked about. Atalanta should be up to spec in two or three days. You'll be able to drop off long before Avenger we get back to the capital."

Brynn stole a glance at Idris. A few days. Then what?

Idris obviously wasn't thinking about it. "That's great! Thanks for your help on that. I'd been trying to get the upgrades through the civi sector, but having the right connections has its benefits, I guess."

"And having friends in low places never hurts either."

Idris laughed naturally and shook his head. "No, it doesn't."

"I'm just glad I could put them to use instead of melting them down again. Anyway, I'll let you get back to roughing it and send word when I have something more."

"Sounds fine. We'll wait as fast as we can in the meantime."

The door closed as Darren left them alone again, and Brynn felt her heart racing. She'd spent a long time not having a plan more complicated than "I don't know, I am making this up as I go along," so the looming future shouldn't have been weighing down on her like a space rock. Why was she so worked up about it? Maybe it was because before, she'd at least had something special to help her stay alive, and now she didn't even have that.

Idris caught her pensive look and touched her shoulder. The sudden contact snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts, making her jolt in surprise. Idris held up his hands in surprise and surrender. "Whoa, what's wrong? I thought you'd want to get out of here."

"I did too. It's not that I don't like all the comforts this place has offered us, but I guess I am just a little edgy because I hadn't thought past what was going to happen after we got off this ship and back to Atalanta."

"Well, yeah, neither of us had. Did you want to try to figure it out now?"

She looked at the floor and shook her head. "No, not really. I guess not. I don't know..."

He huffed a laugh at that, and shook his head. "It's not like we need to know right away, and it's not like I am going to drop you somewhere dangerous, or turn you over to someone who can't help you. There's nothing to worry about."

She looked up at him and he could see the real fear in her eyes. "That's not true. Before, I could take care of myself. And if something happened, then... I could just..." Her voice trailed off and Idris' face fell for the first time.

"You could just use your Gift and find a way out?"

She hesitated, but nodded. "Look, I know it's not your fault that... that that... that lady, that monster, that she did this to me..."

Idris' reaction, his expression, made it quite clear that he did not agree with her assessment, but he remained silent.

"But now I have to face the fact that I don't know the first thing about taking care of myself without it."

His shoulders slumped and he nodded. "Well, we have a few options about what we can do about that part. I am sure that I could find the support you need, even if it is not from me."

She sighed, tension still coiled tight in her chest. Her gaze flicked to his face before she stepped closer--then, before she could second-guess it, she pressed against him, arms wrapping around his waist.

Idris' hands flew up, not touching her at first, but then he let out his breath and wrapped his arms around her, embracing her tightly. As his head rested on her hair, he felt her sobbing into his chest. He had yet to be this close to her, close enough to smell her hair or feel how warm she was.

Then her arms loosened and he immediately let her go. She dropped her arms to her sides, looking down at his chest. She sniffled a little, and then took a deep breath. "Sorry. I am not sure why I did that. I should probably ask your permission before I invade your space like that again."

Idris found himself at a total loss about what to say to that. He didn't even let himself nod in agreement.

"I'm going to throw some water on my face and try to calm down."

She turned abruptly and walked through door to the shower room.

Idris was left to stand there, feeling like little more than a dumb idiot, his mind reeling about what to say in a way he had never felt before. He covered his mouth with his hand and shook his head.

After that, they spent the days mostly resting and eating food that tastes way too expensive for Brynn's liking. At least at first. Brynn talked about other incidences she had had where someone had tried to molest her in some way, or exploit her circumstances. Idris found himself mostly just listening, allowing her the space to have someone to talk to, without sharing much in the way of his own personal pain or trauma.

Brynn was still getting used to it--no sleeping in cramped closets, no chewing through stale ration bars between panicked glances over her shoulder. Real food that she didn't have to share or even worry about being hot. A warm bed she didn't have to fight for.

And then there was Idris--somehow both easy company and a constant source of frustration. He had a gift for finding her buttons and pushing them until she felt one of her eyes might pop out of her head. She learned he had the most neurotic tendency towards manners, and never met a meal he could bring himself to complain about even once. And he had that annoying habit of dodging serious topics with humor, or intentionally misunderstanding the simplest of questions in a way that she wanted to grab him by the ear and yell it into his head.

Then one day, someone brought a hard copy to Idris, informing him that everything was ready. Brynn realized she wasn't sure what to feel. They gathered what little they had and headed down to the flight deck where they'd been holding Atalanta.

On the bright side, at least now she would be able to see Ophelia again. Her childlike, deceptively innocent personality, and lilting voice, was definitely something she was looking forward to again. Brynn exhaled, as if waiting for the weight of reality to settle back onto her shoulders.

As they were walking up the ramp, she spared a glance backward, and then walked ahead of Idris. But then the sirens sounded. The sirens howled to life, sharp and urgent. Brynn flinched, her breath catching as chaos erupted around her.

The flight deck immediately devolved into utter pandemonium, and Idris dropped his things at the top of the ramp, running down to the bottom of the ramp. He just so happen to spot Darren and caught up to him.

Brynn watched from a distance, unable to hear, but Idris' body language was unmistakable--heated, insistent. Darren rolled his eyes before finally relenting, gesturing toward something far off. Idris took off without hesitation.

Brynn threw her things next to Idris' and then ran to catch up with Idris until she was out of breath. She couldn't see where he'd gone, so she turned and ran to find the only other person she could recognize.

When she caught up to him, she was struggling not to bend over with her hands on her knees, but caught enough breath to ask where he had sent Idris.

"He demanded I let him take a spare to launch with the other pilots."

Her head snapped back away from him. "What?! Launch... to where? But..."

"We just dropped out of antispace to cool our heels and ran into some kind of raid. We're under attack, so they re scrambling everyone to respond."

Brynn went rigid, a cold dread settling in her stomach. The air around her felt suddenly too thin, as if the entire ship had exhaled at once.

The color drained from Brynn's face. The air around her suddenly felt too thin, the warmth leeching from her skin as if the ship itself had turned cold.

"I am sure he would have told you, but there wasn't time. Why don't you come with me?"

"Where?" she asked, but even as she did, she was already moving.

Darren smirked, his gaze sharp but not unkind. "If you're going to drive yourself crazy, might as well do it with a front-row seat."

That didn't sound better. But maybe, in this moment, nothing would.

As Brynn and Darren walked through the last door, Brynn was in a room with a dozen people, all with headsets and a screen in front of their face. The room was large, at least ten meters across, and half that from the door the next wall.

A low murmur filled the observation room, punctuated by bursts of frantic chatter over the speakers. Brynn's gaze locked onto the massive display--dozens of red, green, and blue dots pulsed and shifted like an intricate dance of war. The image on the screen showed the two immense ships and all the fighters. The battleships were shown in a greater detail than the fighters, who were just simple dots. The blue dots were apparently the fighters while the red dots were the attacking craft. A moment later, two of the blue dots converged on the red dot and the red dot disappeared. She couldn't figure out what the green dots were. Maybe civilian crafts trying to escape?

"Captain, our shields are holding, but if we don't manage to scare them off, they won't stay that way for long."

The next voice was unmistakably the captain's. "All fighters, attack at the coordinates I've specified. Focus your attack on the life support and ventilation systems."

The blue dots all seemed to move at once, moving in a tight formation as they made their way to the red ship.

The comms crackled, then a voice--low, venomous, and familiar--coiled through the room. A cold shiver rushed down Brynn's spine, goosebumps rising like a wave across her skin.

"The Delethirian Empire will not be thwarted by your pathetic attempts to engage us, Captain Johansen. Lower your shields and cease fire and I assure you the lives of your crew will be spared. Surrender while you still can."

It was the voice of the woman who had attacked Atalanta not two days before. Suddenly, the red dots seemed to explode and multiply. She could hear the scattered voices of pilot's last cries as the red dots overwhelmed the blue and began to make them disappear, one by one, until there were only a few left. Brynn counted over twenty of the red dots still on the display. "Blue Twelve to Blue Five. Cover me. These bastards need their numbers cut back a little."

"Chariton! What are you doing with one of my ships?!"

"Well, it looked like so much fun, I didn't want to miss out. Do you mind if I lend a hand as it seems you're a little short on numbers?"

There was no response.

"Blue Five, copy?"

"Copy Twelve. I'll stay back a little ways to make sure none of them sneak up behind you."

The display zoomed in a little on the fray as the two fighters turned and engaged. The Delethirian ships tried to loop around and attack, but they seemed just a little too slow. Idris' ship was indicated with the number twelve, his wing man's ship indicated with the five.

Slowly, the dots moved around the map and the red dots seemed to disappear. Then they moved back to engaging the enemy battleship.

"Enemy shields at seventeen percent, Captain. We should be able to hold out long enough to finish them."

"What's the status of our weapons?"

"Rail batteries are at fifty percent. Energy reserves at thirty-five percent and dwindling fast. We need to kill these guys a little faster, Captain."

"Chariton! Why is that ship still hanging around?!"

"That's a good question, Captain. Maybe it's something about you they find appealing. You're warm personality, perhaps?"

Silence.

"Or perhaps-"

"Shut up, Chariton! Get in there and take out their weapons."

The hologram zoomed back out, showing Idris' wing man breaking off as he moved closer to the ship... much closer. He trailed along the surface of the, firing on the hull, the shields working to absorb his firepower, but barely managing to do so. The image zoomed in again a little closer, showing as he swept over the craft and landed shots where the battleships munitions were firing from. But then something unexpected happened.

Idris skimmed along the battleship's hull, weaving dangerously close. Then--an eerie shimmer rippled across its surface. A pulse of energy lashed out, wrapping around his ship like a spectral hand. In an instant, it yanked him inside.

"Captain, the ship is... breaking away..."

"What? No! Disable them before-" But she was cut off. Mid-sentence, the ship broke away from the battle and jumped away, the antispace window swallowing it whole before anyone could blink. Everyone stood there gaping, relieved and confused by the sudden change in events.

Blue Twelve, do you copy?"

Silence. Only the hollow crackle of dead air.

"Captain Chariton, respond!"

More static.

The weight in the room shifted--like the air itself had thickened, suffocating.

"Captain Chariton, do you copy?"

Static. Just an empty hum, swallowing every voice that had once filled the room.

Everyone seemed to turn to Brynn with sad eyes and despondent expressions. "There's... no response, Captain..."

Brynn stood motionless, arms folded tight, as if bracing against a storm only she could feel. The voices around her blurred, muffled by the roaring silence in her ears. Biting down hard on her lip, she felt her heart completely stop as the silence began. Until this point, she'd been strangely calm, or at least seeming to be such. Pacing, arms crossed, but calm for what the situation was.

Now she was just frozen. Staring off, and slowly she felt herself become sick, her face paling, head become light. The room tipped as the silence dragged even further on, and she stumbled back on unsteady feet until she felt the wall behind her. Hands reached behind her as she grabbed for the solid metal wall to keep from fainting, even as her face took on the coloring of the dead.

Her lips parted, but no words came. Only the frantic pounding of her heartbeat in her ears.

Idris. Please. Please say something. Don't leave me.

But there was nothing escaping her lips, everything in her still, stomach turning as it threatened to rebel. There were no other sounds for a long moment. The seconds crept on for what seemed like hours, when it had only been about five minutes.

"Lieutenant, what's our status?"

"Our shields are stable. Weapons are low. Minimal damage over Avenger's hull. All decks report stable life support and atmosphere."

There was another long silence. "Return to yellow alert, Lieutenant."

And that was it. The bridge chatter disappeared from the observation room and everything seemed to fall silent. The officer of the observation room approached Brynn, holding out a hand to help her. "Miss... are you going to be ok? Should I call a medic for you?"

Jumping slightly at the voice addressing, her she looked over at the officer strangely, not fully processing words. When they finally sunk in, Brynn leaned a little more against the wall, her feet sliding forward as she struggled to keep that balance.

"I... I... don't need a medic. I'm not hurt. I'm not... bleeding. I'm... fine. I'm..." Alone. Alone all over again. Idris was gone and she was alone. She'd lost the first person she'd cared about since she was a child. Everything hurt. Swallowing hard, she looked away from the officer and tried to take a shaky breath. What did she do now?

Something welled up inside her--too big, too raw. Not just panic. Not just grief. It crackled beneath her skin, an electric hum spiraling outward, pressing against the air itself. It felt different this time, sharper, like static waiting to snap.

The officer looked at her, very concerned and nodded slowly. Despite all of this, he still motioned for someone to come over to his side. He looked over at Brynn and then spoke to the man he'd called over, his eyes indicating her several times as they whispered. The second man looked over at her, then at the officer, nodding, and left the room in a hurry.

The hum in her veins spread, an unseen pulse rippling through the air. The overhead lights flickered erratically, shadows stuttering across the walls. Monitors sputtered, static crackling through their speakers.

The man's eyes grew wide suddenly, and then the lights went out, and then the popping starting. Sparks flew. One of the consoles exploded. There was the sound of someone crying out.

Time seemed to slow around her, and she saw the room slowly lighting up intermittently, before she felt herself swimming, like she was wading through oil, and then she felt the floor fly up and meet her in the face.

The world wavered--light, sound, time itself bending at the edges. A violent crack split through the air, and then--nothing.

Brynn felt a bed underneath her as she woke. She didn't hurt, but she felt very dizzy. She tried to open her eyes, groaning quietly.

She heard voices around, but not nearby. She managed to get one eye opens and saw a door that lead out into a well-lit room. Her room was dim and white. The bed was white. The bars on the side of her bed. Wait, bars? Why were there bars?

Then she remembered the last few moments, and realized her head was hurting.

Then someone was by her bed. "Hello. I'm Colonel Horn, Ma'am."

She turned to look at him, but she was still struggling to see. She squinted until the image sharpened and she saw him. "Hi. What's going on?"

"You're in a seclusion room. We didn't know about... well, your Gift. Captain Idris hadn't briefed us, or Commander Darren. Otherwise, we would have been prepared."

She shook her head again. "I... I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

He frowned. "You do not have to hide here. We're familiar with those who have abilities like yours, but we don't treat them like aberrations like some places do."

"I... no, I don't have any Gift. That... the woman on the radio... she took it from me."

He looked confused for a moment, but then laughed. "Took it from you? You can't be serious."

She blinked and then looked around, shaking her head in disbelief. "What? Of course I am! Why would I lie about-" She groaned a little and threw her head back on the pillow before rolling over to look at him again. "Fine. Whatever you want. But what would telling you have accomplished."

"Well, for one thing, we would have been prepared."

"Oh really? Prepared? How?"

"The Ulratians have shared their suppression technology with us, at least to some degree."

She wrinkled her forehead at him. "Your what?"

"Suppression. Technology." He shook his head and then held up his hands. "Anyway, just let us know when you are feeling better and we can help you transition back to your ship."

She reached for him. "No, wait. I... I feel fine, I am just tired. But that's not..." She stopped herself. If Idris was gone, then she would need Atalanta, and Ophelia, to get back to him. "I mean, that's not what I had in mind. I didn't think we were ready to go."

"I was told that you were in the middle of boarding when we were attacked. Is that not true."

She shook her head. "Sorry, I forgot. Does that mean I can go now?"

"Only if you are you sure you handle the transition without using your powers, or losing control."

"I'll be fine. Where are my clothes?"

"They've been moved aboard your ship."

She made a face, but decided that what she wore was fine. The white smock and long, white pants covered her well enough even if they were not especially comfortable.

"Lead the way." she said quietly, gently pushing off the bed.

Brynn took a few steps, paused, then began to walk again much steadier. Arms crossed once again in front of her and although her color wasn't improving, at least she was walking in a straight line. She caught the Colonel's glance at her and she shook her head again.

"Stop staring at me as if I'm about to keel over."

He shook his head. "Apologies, Ma'am, but I am afraid that you do not look well. But if you are confident you can follow me..." He surveyed her one more time, frowning, and then began to lead her down the hall again.

After two different lift rides, threes hallways, and about a hundred doors later, they were standing at the door to the landing deck. She walked out onto the deck and allowed the colonel to guide her back to Atalanta.

She made her way up the landing ramp again, seeing Idris' things there, right where he had left them. She felt a stab of pain inside of her and looked back to the colonel. "Thank you for your help. I'm fine."

He nodded to her and held up his hand. "If you should need anything, simply contact us by radio."

"Yeah, thanks." She turned and slipped through the door. She looked around and made her way back to the galley, where her and Idris had spent so much time. As she sat down, she saw Ophelia show up on the table as before.

"Miss Phytrelia. I am glad you are back. Where is Captain Chariton? Is he with you?"

Her eyes already beginning to sting with tears. She shook her head as they began to fall down her face. "No. He's not. Ophelia, they took him. He's gone!"

Brynn spent the next day or so lying in his bed. She let herself fall completely apart. Curling up on the bed, she sobbed hard, not sure what else she could do or what was even going to happen to her. She'd have to go on. Have to find another planet to live on until she got into trouble and had to start again.

Her sobs had dimmed to whimpers when she heard the soft tone. Sitting up, she stared at it for a moment, then slowly got to her feet, feeling shaky. Hands reached up wiping at her face, hoping she didn't look as awful as she felt. And yet she couldn't wipe away the red in her cheeks, the puffiness of her eyes.

"Ophelia? What's that noise?"

"It's the ship comm. Would you like me to answer it?"

She hesitated, but then nodded. "Yes. Go ahead."

She heard the voice of the captain. "Hello. Are you receiving me?"

"Yep. What do you want?"

There was a short silence before she answered. "I want to help you. Whatever happened out there today... who ever it was on that ship... why they wanted Captain Chariton..." She shook her head. "These are all answers that I have every intention of finding. I've already contacted General Durron, and he is just as concerned as I am. We need to know what they wanted him for. Until then, I'd like for you to stay. I assure you, as long as you are in our care, you'll be protected, your every need catered to. I would hate for you to run away and have to explain to Captain Chariton, when we find him, that I allowed you to run off with his ship."

"I do not know why they'd want him either. Maybe he's already dead. There's no reason for me to stay here. Protected or not. Needs met or not. I'm better on my own." Her voice was filled with an angry, sad bitterness that was uncommon for Brynn. "Besides, what do any of you care about him? You were all cruel with him. I don't trust any of you, and would much rather fend for myself than stay here alone with you."

She was defensive, and mean right now. She didn't want them to know she'd been sobbing, that she was absolutely terrified and hurt. Brynn had to be tough right now, as she tried to mend her life in a few short hours.

"I do not understand why you want to keep me here, but if you insist, I will stay for a short period of time. I do not plan to make this ship my permanent home by any means."

"Thank you, Miss Phytrelia. I appreciate your cooperation."

The radio cut off with a brief noise.

Then Ophelia appears on the bedside table, very concerned and almosgt guilty. "Please, Mistress, you should lie down. Your stress levels are extremely elevated and I do not believe it is healthy for you to remain wound up so tightly. Is there anything I can do for you? The repair crew made a few modifications to the ship, not just the advanced energy weapon array, but they also refilled my reserves, the fuel, and the material and consumables. In addition, they cleaned... well, everything save for Captain Chariton's quarters, including the refresher chamber.

"I am stressed, very stressed. I..." She looked towards the doors of the bedroom she felt her heart skip a beat. "I'll lay down. I... I'll just rest. Ophelia..." She swallowed her words as she lied down again. "Idris..." She whispered, and pressed a palm to her forehead as she walked to the bed and slowly lay down. "Ophelia, I am to be contacted if there is any news of Idris. Please let me know before anyone enters the ship."

"Access to Atalanta has been restricted. If you like I can update the security to allow you to exit and enter on your own volition using your own voice so you no longer require the assistance of launch deck personnel. Also, I have rescinded all maintenance access codes. No one will be able to get in, save Captain Chariton himself, unless you allow them to. Would you like me to make any other changes to the security, or to any other part of the ship?"

"Please change security so that I may come and go on the ship. Is there anyway that anyone will be able to inform me if there is news on Idris?" She stared up at the ceiling as she waited for Ophelia's response. She was glad to be away from the Avenger and sleeping on Atalanta, but she didn't want to risk them finding Idris and her not being around.

"I have already adjusted security to allow for you to be able to come and go as you like. As for being notified and updated on any viable intel, Avenger's crew would be quite capable of hailing us and providing information."

The image nodded at her. "Yes, of course, Mistress. If we are contacted, you'll be the first to know. I still recommend that you sleep now. I will wake you if your presence is necessary or if anyone attempts to contact us."

Breathing a sigh of relief, she nodded back at the image and pulled the blanket over her. "Thank you so much, Ophelia." Pulling the blanket up to her chin, she curled beneath it, taking a deep breath as she tried to relax.

"Of course, Miss Phytrelia."

She was silent, and the only thing that could be heard was the thrumming of the ship's generators and ventilation systems. As Brynn drifted off to sleep, she would hear a voice, a voice that didn't sound like it was in the room, but moreso, in her mind, like Idris' and Aria's voices had been in her mind before in the captain's office.

"Brynn? Brynn... are you there? Can you hear me?"

Frowning at the voice, she groaned softly, and nodded some. "Yes... what do you what?" She whispered furrowing her brow as she tried to shake the words off. You're going a little crazy, she thought to herself and sighed again as she burrowed further under the comforter of the bed.

She felt someone crawl into bed next to her, those familiar arms wrapping around her. The voice was more familiar now as it became more clear. "I want to make sure you keep dreaming, of course..."

Brynn sat on the edge of the bed for what felt like hours, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The room around her was still and quiet, save for the faint hum of Atalanta's systems -- a sound that normally faded into the background but now filled the space like an oppressive weight.

Her eyes stared blankly at the floor, seeing nothing, hearing nothing beyond the pounding ache in her chest.

When she finally forced herself to move, she dragged herself beneath the covers, curling into a ball on the wide bed that suddenly felt far too big -- far too empty. Idris' scent still lingered faintly in the sheets, as if he might step out of the shadows at any moment, as if none of this had ever happened.

But he wouldn't.

She sank deeper into the bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin as if they could shield her from the emptiness pressing in around her. The ship's soft humming filled the silence, broken only by the occasional whisper of the ventilation system.

As her eyes drifted closed, she felt it again -- the faint dip of the mattress behind her, the weight of someone settling in close. She didn't have to look to know who it was.

A warm arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her gently back into a chest she had memorized. The scent of leather, metal, and something uniquely Idris filled her senses. She could almost feel his breath against her neck, hear the low rumble of his voice as he whispered:

"I just want to make sure you keep dreaming... of course."

For a moment, she let herself believe it. Let herself sink into that illusion, pretending she wasn't alone -- that she would wake and find him really there, smirking at her like nothing had changed.

But when she reached for him, her hand found only empty sheets -- cold and hollow, the faintest imprint already fading.

Her breath caught in her throat as she turned quickly, scanning the darkened room, her heart pounding. "Idris?" she whispered, her voice thin and broken, barely rising above a breath.

Silence. No warmth, no answer. Only her own voice lingering in the emptiness, swallowed by the stillness pressing in on her.

The truth hit her then, sharp and suffocating, like all the air had been ripped from her lungs. He was gone.

She clutched the blankets tighter, pulling them close as if they could shield her from the ache inside. But it was too deep.

Her body folded into itself, and as the first tears slipped down her cheeks, the dam inside her cracked open.

Soft at first, trembling -- and then the sobs came, raw and jagged, shaking her to the core. She buried her face in the pillow, trying to smother the sound, but it was no use.

There was no one left to hear her fall apart.

And for the first time since she was a child, she let herself break completely.

Brynn stirred beneath the blanket, eyes swollen and sore, as the hum of Atalanta's systems filled the quiet void around her. For a moment, she could almost pretend she wasn't alone.

The soft glow of Ophelia's image lit the room as she appeared on the table beside the bed. "Miss Phytrelia, you have not left this bed for over fourteen hours. Are you alright?"

Brynn groaned, pulling the blanket over her head. "I'm fine," she murmured, though the words tasted like ash in her mouth.

"I do not believe that is an accurate statement," Ophelia replied, her voice soft but unrelenting. "You have had nothing to eat or drink since you returned to the ship. You must get out of bed and get something."

Brynn turned onto her side, facing away from the projection. "Leave me alone."

There was a pause, then the quiet chime of Ophelia's acknowledgment. "As you wish, Miss Phytrelia."

Silence fell again, but Brynn's mind refused to quiet. The emptiness of the room pressed in on her like a weight, the absence of Idris more suffocating than the darkness itself.

After a long while, when she could no longer bear the stillness, Brynn threw the blanket off with a frustrated groan. "Alright, Ophelia... you win."

The image flickered back to life. "Win what, Miss Phytrelia?"

Brynn swung her legs off the side of the bed, scrubbing a hand over her face. "I'll go to the galley."

"Very good. Shall I prepare you a meal?"

Brynn shook her head, standing on unsteady legs. "No. Just... something strong."

There was a pause, as though Ophelia was processing. "I do not think that is advisable, Miss Phytrelia."

Brynn offered a weak smirk. "I know. But I'm not hungry."

"I do not believe there is anything like that onboard, at the moment."

"Of course," Brynn murmured, rising to her feet unsteadily.

Her steps were slow and heavy as she made her way through the ship, every hallway seeming longer than she remembered, every corner a reminder of Idris.

By the time she reached the galley, her vision had cleared a little. She paused at the door, glancing around as if she half-expected to see him there, leaning on the table like he always did. But it was empty.

Ophelia's projection appeared quietly on the center table. "Miss Phytrelia, may I offer a suggestion?"

Brynn looked at her, her voice softer now, resigned. "Go ahead."

"If you are determined, there is a storage space beneath the cabinet next to the discard bin."

Brynn walked over slowly, kneeling as she opened the panel. Her fingers closed around two bottles. She stood, weighing them in her hands as though deciding between them.

"I would recommend the one on the left."

With a nod, Brynn set the other bottle aside and carried the recommended one to the table. She glanced at Ophelia, who watched her with that calm, careful gaze.

"Glass?" Brynn asked, her voice quiet.

Ophelia gestured. "Second cabinet to your right."

Brynn found it easily--a heavy, thick-bottomed glass. She set it down and opened the bottle, pouring more than a reasonable measure, watching as the dark, deep-blue liquid filled the cup. It swirled smoothly, catching the soft light in strange ways.

She took a sip, surprised at how smooth it was--unlike anything she'd ever tasted.

"You could speak to someone," Ophelia offered quietly. "Commander Darren has asked after you."

Brynn shook her head, her fingers resting lightly against the side of the glass. "I don't want to talk."

"I understand."

Brynn took another small drink, closing her eyes. "I just..." She trailed off, her throat tightening.

Ophelia was silent for a moment. "They are worried for you."

"I can't deal with them worrying about me," Brynn whispered, staring at the glass in her hand. "It doesn't matter. None of it does. Not now."

Ophelia's voice was softer still. "I know it feels that way. But you are still here."

Brynn's grip tightened slightly on the glass. "Yeah," she whispered. "Still here."

She let out a long breath, setting the glass down gently this time. The weight of grief pressed against her ribs like it might crush her from the inside.

Ophelia's image watched her quietly but didn't speak again.

Brynn stared down into the swirling blue liquid, watching as the light caught its surface and turned it into tiny waves of reflected color. For a fleeting moment, she almost expected to see an answer in its depths -- something to pull her back from the hollow ache inside. But it was just a drink.

Her fingers traced the rim of the glass, as if searching for something that wasn't there. With a soft, bitter laugh, she muttered, "Guess there's nothing at the bottom of you, either."

She leaned back in her chair, exhaling through her nose, and finally looked over at Ophelia. "You were right. This isn't going to help."

Ophelia didn't say anything, simply nodding her head once in acknowledgment.

Brynn rubbed a hand over her face, as if trying to wipe away the exhaustion that clung to her. She sighed and sat up in the chair, looking around.

Ophelia's voice seemed to hold some sense of hesitation, or trepidation. "Maybe... a hot shower would help you feel better?"

After a long pause, Brynn rose to her feet. "Maybe..." she swallowed, her voice rough. "I guess it's not as though it could make me feel worse."

"Would you like me to prepare the refresher chamber?"

Brynn nodded without saying anything, letting the last few drops of the dark liquid drip out of the glass and into her mouth as she tipped her head far enough back to look straight into the ceiling. Then she gently set the glass on the table.

"As you wish, Miss Phytrelia. It will be ready shortly."

Brynn turned slowly toward the hallway, her body moving as though underwater. As she left the galley, she felt Ophelia's gaze following her, steady and calm, the one constant she had left.

Then she felt her head swim. "Oh boy..." She stumbled and reached out with one hand, falling sideways and catching herself on the bulkhead of the corridor. She tried to grab it, but the cold, metal surface slipped easily under her fingers and she eventually hit the deck.

She rolled onto her back, closing her eyes for a long moment as she struggled to steady her vision. "That's... that's some strong stuff."

She sat up on the deck, legs sprawled out in front of her, before pushing up off the floor with both hands. She was ready this time, slowing her steps just enough to lean on the bulkhead and use it to support her as she made her way to Idris' room.

Standing in the water, she found herself almost oblivious to the deluge spraying around her, oblivious to the warmth, losing awareness of the passage of time. Hours felt like seconds, but after she had been in the water for nearly half an hour, she heard Ophelia's voice coming through some speaker hidden in the chamber.

"Miss Phytrelia, I should warn you that while the ship's systems are capable of recycling the water faster than you can use it, exposing your body to treatment of this temperature, for prolonged periods, is likely to result in what is described as 'diminishing returns.' Would you like me to help you get out now?"

Brynn looked around for the source of the audio, but then shook her head. "Yes. Any chance you have something I can change into? Something warmer, maybe?"

"I can begin work on something like that, but I will not have anything ready before you exit. Will your original clothes suffice, after you have dried?"

Brynn had to consider it for a moment, but then nodded. "Yes. I'll find a way to make it work, thank you."

As the chamber opened, Brynn found herself poking her head out into the rest of the refresher facilities, feeling a little exposed and self conscious, and feeling no interest whatsoever in speaking to Ophelia before she had a chance to grab a towel, dry off, and get dressed again. "Ophelia?"

The image coalesced again on the vanity towards the edge of the sink. "Yes, Miss Phytrelia."

"Can you... I would prefer to be alone for this. I just need something to dry off first."

She nodded and pointed to the outside of the chamber. Brynn looked and sighed in relief, grabbing a long towel from the hook, and retreated back into the chamber. Her voice echoed against the walls. "Thank you. I will catch up with you back in the bedroom."

"Of course, Miss Phytrelia."

Brynn knew it was silly and a little ridiculous, but she was determined to only remain peripherally aware of the fact that just because she could not see her image, Ophelia most likely could see her at any location on the ship.

She toweled off as best she could, wrapping herself in the towel and making her way back to the bedroom. She hesitated before reaching for clothes--clearly Idris', judging by the way the fabric hung from her frame. The shirt draped too long, and the pants hung loose around her hips, but they were warm, and that faint scent of him--leather and something uniquely his--wrapped her in bittersweet comfort. That scent--a mix of leather and something uniquely his--wrapped around her like a second skin, bringing both a fleeting sense of comfort and a sharp pang of loss that made her throat tighten. Still, she tugged the clothes into place, willing herself to carry on, walking out into the corridor and back to the galley again.

She felt better--but only because she was carefully holding the worst thoughts at bay. Thoughts of Idris' last smile, the sound of his voice, the ache of his absence--each waiting to crash over her the moment she let down her guard. She kept them there, hovering just out of reach, like ghosts she dared not face. She went to the machine and made some food, the same way she'd seen him do it before, and then brought it to the table. Her hair was still damp, but she realized, if only vaguely, that the effects of the dark liquid she'd consumed, had almost completely disappeared.

She made a face, a wry smirk tugging at her lips, realizing now how quickly the drink's effects had faded. Perhaps Ophelia had known she wouldn't stop at just one glass if it had been stronger -- a quiet safeguard, offering her a moment's release without letting her slip too far. Clever, really. And maybe kinder than Brynn would have expected. If she'd been determined to drown herself in it, she realized now, she would've had to drink far more. And maybe that had been the point -- to give her a choice to stop.

She shook her head, a faint breath of a laugh escaping her lips -- tired, but real. Then, with quiet determination, she finished her food.