I stared down at my aunt’s body. The captain stood behind me not saying a word. The room she was in had all the same hallmarks of the interrogation room Archibald had strapped me in. But this one was lit up, the stalagmites or stalactites, or whatever those foam like protrusions from the wall were, glowed a soft white. Pavo had told us it was the masking frequency. The room, to his scans, looked like an empty berth.

It wasn’t empty. My aunt was lying in it. One single plasma shot to the centre of her forehead.

“They had her restrained,” I said.

Jameson stepped up to my side.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“She couldn’t fight them.”

“She wouldn’t have been able to anyway, Ana.”

“It was Cecil,” I said, the words sounding more like a growl.

“Archibald loved her in his own way,” Jameson said. “But the mayor had no connection to her. He saw her as an inconvenience.”

“He didn’t want to spare the mercs to keep her fed.”

“He’s in the brig,” Jameson said.

I wasn’t sure why he mentioned it. I knew Mayor Cecil was in the brig; Pavo had told us.

“Are you going there now?” I asked.

“He’ll need a trial,” Jameson said, not answering. “There’s enough evidence to convict. The punishment is death.”

“Death.” It would be more humane than what my aunt had received at that monster’s hand.

“How long will it take?” I asked. “The trial.”

“Two to three weeks.”

That was too long.

“Commander,” he said. “Will you let me handle this?”

He was asking for my trust. But more than that. He was asking for me to prove I was an officer as well as his lover. If he could have, he would have let me kill him. I was fairly certain, Jameson wanted to kill Cecil himself. But despite our talk of a new world with new rules, some rules had to remain. And trials for murdering arseholes was one of them.

“Will he get away with this?” I asked.

“Never,” he promised.

I turned to look at him. He held my gaze with the look of a man in charge. In charge of his world. His domain. Everyone in it. And in this, the soldier in me said, he was in charge of me as well.

I smiled. It was full of pain; my eyes teared up. The in-charge look in Jameson’s gaze turned instantly to compassion. To heartache.

“Thank you, Captain,” I said before he could speak and ruin it all. Take what was left of my strength. “I trust in the system,” I added. I trusted him.

He let out a relieved breath of air and said, “He and his mercenaries will pay.” It was a promise I was certain he would keep.

I nodded my head and looked back down at my aunt.

“If it’s all right with you, sir, I’d like to organise my aunt’s wake.”

“Of course,” he said, stepping back, allowing a crewman to enter with a stretcher and body bag.

I couldn’t watch. But I wouldn’t walk away. I would see to my aunt’s final moments on board Pavo. I would say my farewells and pray she heard my words of thanks. For saving me. For giving me a second chance. For introducing me to Captain John Jameson.

Jameson stopped at the door; two more crewmen stepped inside to assist with my aunt’s body. He looked back towards me. I met his gaze, expecting him to nod his head or simply offer me a caring look.

He said instead, “I’ll expect you for dinner, Commander. My cabin. 1900.” And then he left.

The crewmen all exchanged glances, and I could have sworn I saw Aunt Mara smirk. But she disappeared into the body bag, and if there had been any animation left in her body, it was all in my head. My aunt was gone. The last of the Kereamas bar me.

I would not let her down. I would not let my whanau down. Tobias; my brother. My parents. My family. The eleven billion lost souls back on Earth.

I spoke with the crewmen and accompanied my aunt’s body to the morgue. And then, because it was on the same deck as the medbay, I went there; it seemed the right place to go in the end.

Doctor Medina was talking to himself when I entered. He sure as hell wasn’t talking to Lieutenant Taylor, who was snoring his head off over in the corner. And there were no other patients to speak of. The assault team must have done a good job of cleaning up that mess. I was sure some of the mercs were injured, but the brig had its own medical facility. None of them would be brought here.

“If that is the case,” the doctor was saying, “then I can train paramedics. Mobile EMTs. It would take the strain off the medbay facilities. In fact,” he said, clapping his hands together enthusiastically, “we could start a community outreach programme. Not all of our passengers are of exemplary health. Perhaps we could call it something uplifting. What do you think?”

I opened my mouth to answer him, thinking he must have known I was there, when Pavo spoke.

“May I suggest the Marama Kereama Healthcare Programme?”

“I like it,” Medina said. “We’ll call it that.”

I reached out to steady myself on a nearby bench and managed to overturn a stainless steel container. It rang out as it hit the gel floor.

Medina spun on his heel and glared at me. And then his features softened.

“Ana,” he said. “Commander.”

“Ana is fine,” I offered, sitting down heavily on a bed.

“Ana it is, then. I didn’t know you were here.”

“I just arrived. You were talking. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Sure you didn’t,” the doctor said. “You just wanted to know how far the insanity went.”

He winked at me.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“About your sanity?”

He shook his head, chuckling. “About Pavo’s and my idea.”

“I think it’s great,” I said. “She would have liked it. She probably would have used it. She wasn’t well,” I added.

“I know. I’d been pressuring her to come here for a full scan.” I hadn’t been aware of that. “I think it was cancer.”

I slumped down on the bed, wanting nothing more than to curl up. Aunt Mara had hidden her illness from everyone. But more importantly, she’d hidden it from Damon Archibald until it was too late. So she could get at least one of her whanau, her family, on board.

I owed my life to my aunt in so many ways.

A few moments later, the doctor handed me a steaming cup of coffee. He sat down beside me, and we drank in silence. It was comfortable. He no doubt had things to do, but he stayed with me while I cried, and refilled my cup when it was empty.

By the time I left the medbay, I felt refreshed. Sad, but hopeful. With the beginnings of excitement seeping in from the dark edges. That feeling of anticipation only increased as I approached Jameson’s cabin at 1900 hours.

I’d showered. Changed. Hugged Aunt Mara’s pillow to my chest. Touched her flax kete fondly. And checked my reflection in the mirror half a dozen times. If it hadn’t have been for the blue arrows showing me the way to Jameson’s door, I would have never found it. For some strange reason, my mind couldn’t stop playing the time we’d spent in the maintenance tube over and over inside my head. It was deliciously distracting.

The comm chimed when I pressed my hand to the gel wall. I waited for Pavo to open the captain’s door. When he did, Jameson was standing there. Dressed in non-uniform slacks and a button-down shirt, his muscled arms on display, a spot at the base of his neck peeking out between the collar; enticing me. Tempting me.

I smiled.

He smiled.

And then I walked into his room without a backwards glance.