Epilogue: A Stoic Sunset

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Powell had been right.

They'd made it maybe an hour in FTL flight before the engine blew out and they were kicked back into regular space.

"From what I can tell...we're in the middle of absolutely nowhere. And we aren't going anywhere," Kyra said, sitting back.

Greg paced restlessly behind her. As she said it, he stopped. A wave of lethargy washed over him. Suddenly, more than anything in the entire universe, he wanted to sleep. He yawned twice. It took an effort to stay upright and conscious.

"What do we do?" he asked.

"I...don't know," Kyra murmured.

"And the scans?"

They'd run as many scans as had been available, trying to see if there was anything, alive, undead, or whatever the hell the Augmented counted as, onboard with them, in the computer systems, or even outside on the hull.

"Clean. The ship is clean, Greg. We got out," Kyra said.

Greg breathed a sigh of relief. "Well...whatever we do, I think we need to sleep first. Honest-to-God, genuine sleep. Food. Drink. A shower...this ship looks just big enough that it might have something resembling a bedroom in it. And then we can think. Then we can figure out what we can do."

"And if we can't do anything?" Kyra asked softly.

Greg shrugged. "Then at least Erebus and the Undead are gone for good."

Kyra seemed satisfied with this answer. There were heavy, dark bags beneath her bloodshot eyes, set deep into her pallid face. She looked gaunt and a little sickly. He knew he looked worse. Their lack of sleep and food was catching up with them. Greg reached out and Kyra took his hand. They laced their fingers together and Kyra rested her head on his shoulder.

They walked out of the cockpit.

They would rest, for now.

And figure out what to do next later.

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