Sira Jain checked the time on her data pad as she hurried along the space port. She had dropped off the three large crates at cargo port fifteen, as instructed, although nobody there seemed to have known what to do with it. That wasn't her problem though. She couldn't care less about the missing shipping ledgers and the mysterious crates, her mind was preoccupied by the handsome courier who had delivered them. Arriving at the spot where they had parted ways just seventeen minutes ago, she stopped and looked around. The courier was gone.
A furrow appeared on her brow.
"Yo Henson," she called over to one of her colleagues nearby, "Did you see where the Atlas guy went?"
"Atlas?" the mechanic looked up from his work to answer her, "That bloke in the blue uniform? Yeah, he left, about... fifteen minutes ago?"
"He.... What?!"
For a moment, her disbelief drowned out any other sensation. Then, she could feel anger well up inside of her. It was soon replaced by embarrassment about her own naiveté. Ultimately, she couldn't help but laugh out loud, but her laughter quickly gave way to a weary sigh.
"Wow. I'm an idiot," she groaned and rubbed a hand over her face.
"Aw, did you get ditched?" Henson asked with a smirk.
"Apparently," Sira grumbled.
Henson walked up to her and was about to say something, but then he spotted something behind her, causing him to stop in his tracks with his mouth agape. Several other people stopped whatever they were doing as well, and looked up, some of them whispering, others giggling.
"Do you know what this is about?" Henson finally found his speech again and pointed up.
As she turned around to look at what they were all gaping at, her answer got stuck in her throat. Blood rushed to her cheeks at the sight of that bold and brazen confession of love that had appeared on the far wall of the hangar.
"You think your Atlas friend left you a message?" Henson snickered.
"Shut up," she grumbled, punching his arm.
No, she was fairly certain that this had nothing to do with her, and most likely not with that courier either. Whoever had pulled this off must have manipulated the computer systems for the guiding lights, so it was likely that it was somebody from station control. Either way, it was none of her business. Truth be told, she was fuming over being spurned like that, and wasting half of her break running an errand for that Atlas jerk. Now watching the most impressive public display of affection she had ever witnessed only served to make her angrier.
She wished people would just stop gawking at those stupid lights and focus on the task at hand again.
"Okay now everybody," she shouted and clapped her hands together, "Get back to work, this is-"
She was cut off by a deafening, howling sound that filled the entire hangar. Everybody who had started to move at her command had frozen up again. Now they looked at each other wide-eyed, while they all counted the seconds until the first wave of the alarm stopped, and resumed after a short break.
"That's..." Henson started.
"A class three radiation alert," Sira finished.
Everyone stared at the Aphelion in disbelief now, and Sira thought that she should have been more careful what to wish for.
~ ~ ~
"Alert, Alert. Radiation leak in sectors three, four, six, seven, eight and nine. Commence evacuation immediately. This is not a drill."
The female voice resounding through the corridors of the ship sounded apathetic, and did not quite reflect the severity of a class three radiation alert. Yet everyone who heard it dropped whatever they had been doing and just ran. That was the nasty thing about radiation - invisible and intangible, it was the kind of threat that everyone took seriously, because there was no immediate way to make sure that one had successfully outrun it. The whole ship was evacuated immediately, even the sectors not affected by the leak.
Outside, the head mechanics and engineers were already busy determining the source of the leak from system reports, and evaluating the damage. In absence of sophisticated AIs to help with the evacuation, the only way to make sure that everyone had made it out safe were good old-fashioned headcounts, prone to error especially in stressful situations like this. It was like counting fleas in a bag. Some people ended up assembling at the wrong meeting points, some ran off, in a panic that the whole ship might blow. Most of them just stood there, stunned with shock. A class three emergency on the very last day of maintenance, mere hours before the last works on the ship were finished, that was about the worst of case scenarios imaginable.
In the chaos that unfolded, nobody bothered to check for something, or someone, who wasn't missing, but rather there when they shouldn't have been. But if anybody had checked life signs aboard the Aphelion, they would have immediately noted residual life signs.
In the systems control room, Amy Larsson removed her hands from the server she had just hacked, and now turned to face one of the screens which she had set to display a live feed from cargo port three.
Barely ten seconds after the last dockworker had disembarked, the cover on one of the dark blue Atlas shipping crates burst off, and a white figure emerged from it, like a deadly jack-in-the-box. Around Heisenberg, a dark, metallic wave seemed to spill out and splash on the ground, from where it quickly dispersed. While the palm-sized droids that Dex had designed and Higgs had built disappeared into the nooks and crannies of the ship's maintenance tunnels, Heisenberg got to work on the other crates, releasing two more waves of the Legion.
All in position, sir, Heisenberg informed them via their comm link.
Perfect timing, Null lauded him.
That had been the most critical part of the whole plan – the timing. The titanium-thallium crates did not just block scanner signals, but also the comm link, so they could not give instructions on the go. Heisenberg had simply been ordered to give the workers a sixty second head start after the radiation alert commenced, in the hope that everyone would make it out before the Reaper unit blew its cover. The whole plan was a lot easier to execute as long as there were no human factors to account for.
Now Lars could feel Null's deep sense of relief at the realization that they wouldn't have to shed any blood today. After all this time, all the crimes they had committed, all the mayhem and destruction, every single kill still weighed on her heavily, although she tried her best to not let him sense it. But that number was still there, at the back of her mind: one thousand five hundred thirty-six. The number of lives they had taken. The fact that they now seemed to be about to pull all of this off without adding to that number only made the whole endeavor seem more unbelievable.
Lars took control to navigate the body through the endless corridors of the Leviathan class ship now, marveling at their surroundings. A strange feeling of nostalgia overcame him, something he had felt only once before, when Null had taken the body to Satherna. These emotions were something he had not known as an android. Perhaps having a perfect recollection of past events impeded the ability to feel like this, because if one could recall every aspect about a certain place in perfect detail, going back to that place just felt the same as remembering it. But living inside a human body now, he was constantly bombarded with many more sensations than he could possibly hope to retain for recollection. One simply had to be there, to know what it really felt like.
The fact that this body was capable of sensations for which there was no matching recollection from his former life at all only added to the strangeness of the déjà-vu like feeling. As an android, he had never noticed how the metal grated floor in the maintenance sectors felt so different to walk on from the smooth, tiled floors of the main corridors. In systems control, the air had been filled with the tang of heated up electronics and ozone, whereas outside, there was only the distinctly dry smell of nothing - a sign of re-cycled and filtered air. It made him think of the hydroponics section down in sector seven, where large tanks of algae were used to replenish the oxygen. A smile washed over their face as he thought about how Null might enjoy seeing that, and he decided to go there later and show it to her.
He barely noticed how he hastened his steps the closer they got to the bridge, just like their heart beat quickened. The moment the magnetic doors unlocked before them and slid open, he almost expected to find his Captain standing there in front of the big window, staring out at the endless expanse of space with his hands clasped behind his back.
But of course, the room was empty now, just like the rest of the Aphelion – real and cyberspace alike.
They stopped in their tracks at the door, and looked around. Out of all the parts of the ship they had been to so far, this place looked the most different from his old memories, to an extent that even Null noticed it. The interface control panels had been retro-fitted with old fashioned controls during the Purge. Vast and complex arrays of colorful buttons and levers adorned the formerly sleek and translucent surfaces now. Large screens had been installed to make up for the fact that the crew would no longer simply have the images displayed in their minds. Lars could easily see now why the minimum required skeleton crew to operate the ship had doubled in size since the days of his service.
He stepped closer to one of the panels and ran their fingertips over the buttons without pressing them. Back in the day, his Captain would have been able to connect the entire fleet that was housed in the belly of the ship, and more, through interfacing with these systems and linking them all together. He would coordinate them as one – similarly to what Lars himself could do with lesser AIs. Also similar, in a way, to what Augurs could do with other augments. That kind of control, that kind of power, was something terrifyingly awesome to behold. No wonder that Neo-Tokyo had eliminated high-ranking members of the military first during the Purge.
He had never thought that it would come down to this – that he would steal the ship that he had served on for years. That he would go against those who had given him orders for most of his existence. It seemed to him like he should have felt confused, or conflicted about his sense of loyalty. But his words to Null still held true. He didn't owe them any loyalty any longer. All he felt for Neo-Tokyo and the elites was a deep seated disgust and anger, another thing he had never thought he would be capable of feeling, for anything or anyone. But even those emotions paled against the sense of excitement and elation at the thought of what they were about to do.
Hey, are you alright? Null asked, ripping him out of his thoughts.
He had barely noticed how she had taken over control again, and had begun to hot-wire the control panel in front of them, all on her own. This part of the ship was operating on minimal power during the repairs, but she had successfully diverted the power to the main control terminal, causing the buttons to light up. Now she had stopped in her movements, and diverted her attention to him inside their mind.
Oh. Yes, I'm fine, he answered, I just thought about how grateful I am.
For what? She asked.
For everything you showed me and taught me, Lars said. I don't think I ever properly thanked you for that. So... thank you, Null.
He could feel her presence flicker and waver in confusion.
You once asked me if I miss my old life, he elaborated. Well, I don't. I still enjoy those memories, but... that doesn't mean I regret a thing.
Living inside a human body, his precisely structured and hierarchical world had become unhinged. Inorganic rules and order had been replaced by chaos and spontaneity. She had not just taught him what it meant to be human, what it meant to feel. He no longer had to content himself with setting his visual sensors to match the spectrum of human eyes, because she had shown him the world, through her eyes. And it was beautiful, in all its terrifying intensity, lawless insanity and confusing complexity.
Oddly enough, the memory he recalled now was not one from his former life, but one that he shared with Null.
I don't want to do something I might regret again, she had said, back on Aenara, when they had confronted Riga.
Then you won't be able to do anything at all, ever again. That's not what life is about, though, is it?
He hadn't really known what he was talking about back then. He had only known that stagnation was the opposite of life, and regret was an integral part of being human.
This.... This is what life is about, Lars whispered now.
The good things, and the bad things, all coming together, every experience changing and altering... what we are. Every answer leading to another question. Every step along the way leading to something bigger. Every piece becoming a part of the whole.
Like our plan, she said.
Indeed. So let's get to work.
~ ~ ~
Null opened the tool box they had brought with them, and took out the last member of the Legion. The contraption came to life under her touch immediately and began to crawl up along their arm. With an amused smile, she picked it up again and sat it down on the control panel before her.
She watched with fascination as the little droid began to scurry back and forth, looking for the perfect place to latch onto the hardware. Once it had found the spot, it dug its eight spindly legs firmly into the panel and moved the scorpion-tail like appendage at its backside to connect to the hardware. All over the ship, two-thousand nine hundred ninety nine others like it would have finished by now doing the same at strategically important nodes. Everything was ready.
She took a deep breath and stepped up to the control panel. But something made her hesitate, a lingering feeling of uncertainty and insecurity. They had come a long way, but now, so close to their goal, she felt a strange sense of detachment from all that happened around her, as if she was watching from afar as it all happened. A memory was stirring in the back of her mind.
Hey Lars. Do you remember that day, on Symoa Station, when we stole that chip? She asked, her hand hovering inches over the control panel.
The chip had contained data on maintenance schedules for the Aphelion for the current cycle. Updated schematics, after the retro-fit. Task lists. Cargo lists. Staff lists. It was the very data that had allowed them to pull all of this off in the first place, on the last day of the last maintenance stop in this space port. In a way, stealing that chip had been the first step on the path that had led them here.If they had come up with their plan just a few days later, most of that information would have been worthless. But in a providential course of events, all pieces of the puzzle had fallen in place just in time.
Of course I remember, he answered.
If we take the Aphelion back to New Elysium...
Not if. When, he corrected her.
Well, anyway, she continued, once we're back... Do you really think we can spark a revolution? Just like that? Do you really think Jack will finally let us take the fight to them? And if so... who.... I mean, how...
Null, he said softly. There's plenty of time for organic indecisiveness is later. We've got several gigatons of metal to move.
Numbers whirled through their head at his words – measurements, statistics, parameters. All that information about the ship that had helped them to devise this plan. But they faded into the background again, and only one number remained: one thousand five hundred thirty-six. One hundred and twelve of which had died on Symoa Station that day.
That day, on Symoa, Amy Larsson became a terrorist, she recalled his words.
She looked down at the panel before them, still hesitant to touch it.
I wonder what she will become today.
That's easy, Lars answered. The greatest pirate in the galaxy.
A smile tugged at the corner of their mouth.
The queen of pirates, Lars continued. The woman who can hack absolutely everything. The woman who makes the impossible possible.
She laughed out lout ad his words, and confidence filled her again, like a warm glow emanating from deep within where his presence resided in the body. It grew in size and force, as she could feel Lars expand his influence over the body, like an ocean wave washing over her. There was never any force in his actions, no pushing or pulling over who was in charge. It was like an embrace from within.
In symbiotic control over the body, they both placed their hands against the panel, and their interface augments flared to life. The old-fashioned controls underneath them began to spark and cackle with latent electricity, and nearby, the Legion droid clicked and shifted.
They clenched their teeth as an uncomfortable sensation spread through their body, but didn't let go. Shifting her attention inward, Null noticed Lars' presence at the edge of the body, where the interface augments began to probe the systems under their touch. The barrier to the ship's system was different from anything she had ever seen. It was like and enormous door, ancient and heavy, seemingly impossible to move.
We need to plug in fully, Lars said, There's no way we can brute-force this via interface. These controls are too old-fashioned.
Well, that's what we got the new gimmicks for, after all, she pointed out.
At their left wrist, the two cables pushed out from underneath their skin, and began to snake around their fingers. They wound themselves around their hand several times, securing the connection tightly, before they dug into the systems underneath their palm.
The second the cables connected to the ship, Null gasped in surprise at the sensation of her body being connected to a space that was vast beyond her comprehension. Before her mind's eye, the enormous door was opening up in a slow and labored motion. She peered through the crack that had appeared, and found it leading into nothing but gaping darkness. She shuddered at the thought that Lars would have to move through these systems. Even with her limited experience, she could tell that the space beyond was cold and empty. The Aphelion's systems were long since abandoned by the AIs that had once populated the ship and helped control her.
But Lars didn't hesitate one second. He slipped past her, and moved into the dark space. To Null, it looked like a droplet of glowing light was plunging into an inky sea, where it was swallowed by the black. And then, there was only darkness and silence.
Lars...? She called out after a while.
The silence made her uneasy.
Lars! She called for him again.
Yes, yes, I'm here, he replied, Sorry, I... can't hear you very well.
There was an odd strain in his voice, and she could feel a sense of dread take hold of her at her inability to see what was going on inside the cyberspace.
What's wrong? Are you okay? she asked.
It's the Legion... they're... they're very loud, I can't –
His sudden scream of pain tore through the darkness, causing her presence to freeze and every fiber in their body to tense up. The door separating the two spaces seemed to creak as it opened furthered, and a deafening uproar emanated from within, tearing at her like a buffeting wind. As quickly as it came, the noise ebbed away again, until all that was left was an unsettling hissing coming from the darkness beyond. She pressed against the edge, desperately trying to make out what was happening.
Lars! Lars, talk to me! She cried out. What is going on?
This... is harder than expected, his voice sounded distant and muffled as he answered. They're... a bit unruly....
Lars, keep calm, she said, forcing her voice to sound reassuring, You can do this. I know you can. This is what you used to do! You used to control other AIs all the time!
This is different, he groaned, clearly in pain now. There's... so many... voices... all of them in discord. They won't.... they won't listen to me...
A violent shiver shook their body, and she could feel his intangible pain bleed over into reality. It was like the forceful and demanding touch of a million hands, tugging and trying to pull them into different directions.
Null... please... you have to help me in here. I can't do this alone, Lars' voice came from the darkness.
What?!
Please... I... need you...
The body was trembling violently now, and their heart was racing. She felt like her mind was racing too, trying to come up with an idea how to help him. But there was nothing she could do – faced with the dark abyss that lay beyond the door, she was stuck here, left to watch, or rather listen, helplessly as he cried out in pain once more.
No Lars! Just come back! She ordered him. If this doesn't work, then-
Oh, it will work, he said, his voice sounding strained but surprisingly confident, That I'm certain of... I can see them. All three thousand. They're plugged in and ready... But I cannot control them.
And you think I can? She cried out. Of all people? Lars I couldn't even hack a goddamn garbage chute if my life depended on it! You know that!
This isn't hacking, he concurred. It's like... a choir. Like what Blue did. You only need to conduct them.
Like a choir? she repeated doubtfully. Sounds more like Alonian Opera in there.
Please, Null. We've come so far. We can't give up now, he begged her.
She wanted to concur, but she knew that he was right.
She peered down the gaping chasm behind the door that separated her from the cyberspace of the ship, and from Lars. It was not like she didn't want to help him. But something held her back, like a shackle tying her to the body. The threshold between the organic world and cyberspace was one she had never been able to cross.
Looking back, she could see the colorful space of her mind. It had become a beautiful place over the past year and a half. Filled with color and memories and dreams that were so precious to her. And the body, the shell – it had become something different too. She was a walking weapon, and yet the body felt less like a tool to her than ever. But the shell seemed to keep her locked up, clinging to her presence, as if it could remember what it had been like to be without her, during those dreadful moments when she had been dead.
But things were different now. She knew that she wouldn't die, but every second that she didn't act, Lars was in pain. She had no idea what the Legion was doing to him, and the thought of seeing him hurt or even losing him drove her mad. She'd rather endure the most excruciating pain imaginable than let that happen.
That, she used to think, was what she had felt when she had been brought back to life, but she wasn't so sure any longer. Now the idea of losing Lars seemed even more painful to her. And as she looked upon the landscape in her mind, that shifting and colorful home of the person who was the most important to her in the entire universe, she realized that she felt grateful – grateful for being alive. At some point along the way, without her even noticing, the scale had tipped, and the happy memories now outweighed the pain.
Another strange thought occurred to her now. All the good they had done, it might not have been enough to buy back her soul. But she didn't feel like she needed one any longer. She didn't feel like she was missing anything anymore.
She turned around and faced the dark abyss beyond the threshold once again. The lifeline was still there, that connection that Lars always made use of to come back to the body. She realized now that it was in fact not leading back to the body, but back to her. It would be difficult to find their way back once she left, but there really was no other way. Besides, they had their new augments now, a very much physical line connecting their body to the ship right now.
In the real world, she took a deep breath to calm the violent shivers that shook the body.
Well Lars, seems like now it's time for you to show me your world, through your eyes.
At the edge of the organic world, she lifted the last anchor that held her in the body, and jumped down into the abyss.
~ ~ ~
Spending so much time in an organic body being exposed to organic sensations had taught Lars much about the beauty of the world outside, but cyberspace held its own, very different kind of beauty.
The cyberspace of the Aphelion was enormous, just like the ship herself. Colors and shapes assembled into objects reminiscent of landscapes and even buildings, but they did not obey the laws of Newtonian physics, because this place was just at the threshold to a quantum realm. There were data structures, like a forest of trees with infinite branches, stretching out into more than three dimensions all around. Paths assembled themselves, shifted, and broke apart again, leading nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Data highways formed shortcuts between the different parts of the system, looping back on themselves like Moebius bands and Klein bottles.
Back before the Purge, this place would have been vibrant and buzzing with activity. Even now the space never stood still, there was a constant shifting and turning, like a giant kaleidoscope. But the fractals seemed lifeless, dreary and cold now. It was quiet in here, except for the hissing and humming of the three thousand voices of the Legion.
Suddenly, a shiver went through the inorganic world, and he trembled along with it. Next to him, something distorted the space, and another entity began to assemble itself, like a jigsaw puzzle, piece by tiny piece.
Lars didn't know what he had expected. He hadn't even been certain she would really follow him. But the being that had appeared beside him was unmistakably Null. She was a shadow, dark as the darkest corners of space, and of a black so deep that she seemed to draw him in more and more the longer he looked at her. Once she was complete, she turned to look back at him, as impossible as that seemed in this digital space, and he gasped, equally impossibly.
It was her, without a doubt. Because even in this place and in this form, she still had the same eyes. Grey like the rain clouds on Satherna, and so full of this unspoken sadness and pain that always tugged at something deep inside of him, something that he liked to think of as his heart. Except that right now, they were also filled with a spark of determination and resolve.
What? She asked, noticing how he was staring at her.
Null... you... you're beautiful, he whispered in awe.
What?! She repeated, her eyes widening in surprise at his words.
N-nevermind, he quickly said, glad that at least he couldn't blush in cyberspace.
He returned his attention to the Legion. The voices were different now, her mere presence had cast a ripple through this space that had reached into the farthest corners of the ship. It was as if the Legion could sense who she was. The hostile hissing of three thousand voices in discord had turned into a muffled mumbling and whispering. Their programming was primitive, and they could not function as a collective unless instructed properly. But each of the three thousand units on its own seemed to be well aware of who this dark entity was that had just entered the cyberspace. This was the one who had saved them, and given them a new purpose.
As if driven by a sense of curiosity, some of the primitive AIs approached them now. Their appearance in this space was similar to their physical units in the real world. The spider-like entities gathered around them and seemed to wait in anticipation.
So... how does this work? Null asked and moved forward tentatively, whirling shadows following her steps. She approached one of the spiders and the two entities seemed to inspect each other with equal curiosity.
What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to...?
You just... steer them, Lars said.
But I have no idea how! She whirled around and faced him, fixing his presence with her strange eyes, That's why you were supposed to do this! I don't know how to do any of this!
Look at them, Null. They're already following you, he pointed out.
She turned back and indeed, the little crowd of spiders that had gathered at her feet followed her every motion, like an oddly shaped, particulate shadow.
What the... she muttered in disbelief. Why... how...?
Well, how did you force back the biomimetic program that Blake subjected us to? he asked.
I... I don't know, she said. I just... plunged in and... kinda... dragged it along with me...?
You moved, and it followed your motions, Lars noted. This is similar. It doesn't take much, they just need to be nudged.
I don't know what to do with them though, she said, sounding dismayed. Where to... nudge them to.
He smiled, or rather he felt like he did, as he moved closer to her. Her presence was so different from any shape or form he had met her in so far, and yet still overwhelmingly familiar. When he touched her, a pleasant shiver rippled across his presence. She seemed to melt against his touch, leaning against him and embracing him in the most impossible and strange way yet. It was very different from what he felt like on the beach in their mind, but it evoked the same sensations within him.
Don't worry about that, he whispered, holding her close, You don't need to know where they go any more than the wind and the tides know where the ships that sail go. You will be the wind and the ocean, and they will be the ships. And I will take care of the rest. I will steer them where they're supposed to go.
Her presence trembled for a moment, but then she seemed to relax.
I... I think I understand now.
She freed herself from the embrace, and stepped forward. At her feet, the Legion began to quiver with excitement and anticipation. They could feel the determination that radiated off from her again now. It made no sense in cyberspace and with the form she had taken on, but it seemed to Lars as if she was rolling back her shoulders and cracking her knuckles in preparation for the task at hand.
Alright, she said, Let's try to get this heap of metal moving.
~ ~ ~
It was the most devastating radiation accident in the history of Essandrie Station.
According to reports from the surveillance systems, insane amounts of radioactive waste had leaked from the engines for some reason, leading to ionized dust entering the ventilation systems, thereby quickly spreading throughout the entire ship. They were lucky that whatever pipe had busted on them had done so now, and not in twenty-four hours when the Aphelion had been supposed to be fully manned again and back in space. Evacuation was quick and efficient, there had barely been more than a hundred people aboard. Once everybody had cleared the perimeter, orders were assigned to go back in and determine the source of the problem.
Sira made her way through the crowd of people toward the hull. As a senior mechanic, she had been tasked to lead one of the decontamination teams. Her shift would have been over half an hour ago, and her idea of a good afterhours activity had involved taking off her clothes, not slipping into a hazmat suit. The only thing that had kept her in the hangar in the first place had been that Atlas jerk with his damned gorgeous smile. And now she was stuck working overtime because of the emergency.
She really wished she didn't have to go board that damned ship again now, to fix a fucking deadly radiation leak in the engine room of all things.
She was just about to fix the last latches on her suit, when a deep rumbling reverberated through the entire hangar. She had thought that her evening couldn't possibly get any worse, but when she raised her head, Sira half-expected that some part of the ship had now blown up on top of things.
She breathed a sigh of relief as she found that the Aphelion was still intact, looming above the shipyard motionlessly. No explosions, no flames, no cackling electricity anywhere in sight. But what happened next was, in a way, even worse.
The lights running along the side of the ship came on, like thousands of eyes opening lazily after a long sleep. The rumbling turned into a low hum, which Sira now recognized for what it was – the sound of the main drive coming online. At the stern of the ship, the tentacle-like protrusions that gave the whole vessel the appearance of a gargantuan sea creature, began to shift to open up the exhaust ports for the engines. A pulsating, blueish glow emanated from underneath, causing the nearby air to flicker and shimmer with heat.
All over the hull, the docking arms that had latched on to the ship and held it in place, receded back, and she remained afloat. And then the Aphelion began to move.
Around her, some of the other Essandriens fell to their knees, praying. But Sira just stared at the Aphelion in disbelief, thinking how she should really be more careful what she wished for.