Home.

“I just wanna go home,” her voice was rasped, the light hurting her eyes.

“So come home,” ground control replied, a dry with age male voice.

“So come home,” replied the stars.

Day 278 since the Accident.

She was running low. Her rations cut short, the only one left. Dry bread and packaged water. She knew she couldn’t make it; it was a ten-day trip to Mars, a five-day trip back home.

“I don’t think I’ll make it, Jackson.” She had grown to think of the old man as a friend, but probably he was just another AI, no person in their right sense of mind would answer her calls no matter the time of day.

“That’s alright. Just come home. The flare will be there for another month. You can rest.”

She scoffed, a dry sound from deep in her throat. “We both know I won’t.”

“Won’t what?”

“Rest. You think they’ll let me-”

“It wasn’t your fault.” It was the first time he ever interrupted her. “It wasn’t your fault, Amelia.”

She let her head fall back, let her own force rotate her so that she was now facing the round window above her. “It’s beautiful out here.”

“Yes, it is.” She could hear his smile in his voice.

“When where you last out here, Jackson?” she tried to distract herself from the reality of dead screens and beeping red.

“Oh, it’s been a good ten years I think.”

“How old are you really?”

He laughed; it came from deep in his lungs. “Well, isn’t that rude? I’m seventy-four as of yesterday.”

“Happy birthday.” There was a knot in her throat.

“Why thank you, girl. That officially makes me three times your age.”

He knew everything about her, and she knew nothing about him. It had a weird ring to it, she thought of him as her guardian angel, there since day one.

“Don’t out me to the whole ground control like that!” she laughed, unsure of when it was the last time she did so.

“Well then, alright,” he laughed back and hang up on her.

She let her force pull her to the window, her hands gripping the railing tight. It was her and the stars, no sign of Mars, nor home yet.

She had started to speak to them, mainly after she saw her friends come to them. She had thrown them out one by one, the body-bags sealed tight. She wanted to give them back to their families but didn’t know if she could stop herself from doing something unspeakable. And when the rations started growing short, she was glad she did.

The meteorite had thrown them out of their course and before Yelena died, she had done the best to her extend to pull them back. She would enter the solar system, but after that it was up to her. Three days to enter.

She had grown accustomed to the quiet. There was no sound but her. So, when the screens first turned red, she flinched.

They spoke of system anomalies and supplies shortages. At least she had Kai to help. A bang on Day 200 Since the Accident. And he was gone on his own terms.

She had been alone for seventy-eight days. It was her, the stars and Jackson. At least the stars were always there. She hummed a nursery rhyme that reminded her of home, it spoke of stars and their silver light.

She scoffed at her name tag, Captain, she was Captain Burkett and her ship of memories.

Kai had taught her a tune of his people, a low humming of laryngeal sounds instead of words. She turned to this now. She had adored him. Though of him like a brother she never had, he was one of those people whose smile could light up a room.

Now he was floating through space.

Why did she stay? She didn’t know. Call it stubbornness perhaps, call it a leap of faith. She was sure she would make it to the colonies. Now her certainty had crumbled like a castle made of sand.

“Amelia.” It was the stars. “What will you do?”

“I don’t know.” Her weight pulled her around and she let herself float, a puppet with its wires pulled.

The meteorite had struck them when they were sleeping. The beeping red and white, Yelena’s frantic tries to steer. They though they’d make it.

It had brushed against them, a deep slash into the outer parts.

The insanity that followed must have been equal to the Titanic sinking. Peter had been sucked out of the slash, his screams still hunting her to this day.

And it was her fault. She should had put somebody on patrol. And yet, she hadn’t, leaving her all alone in an empty ship.

Jackson would tell her to not think like that, there was nothing she could do.

Yet again the wires pulling. Couldn’t trust her own mind.

If there was a place like Hell, this ship would be it, silent as a grave, compartments slowly failing, supplies dwindling. It was her and the stars; beautiful, unforgiving.

Day 279 since the Accident.

“Amelia.”

“I know we talked about making it, but-”

“I’m sorry, little one.”

Straight to Hell she steered, the solar system finally appearing.

“Help me.” She spoke to the stars.

“Home. Come home,” they replied.

She dreamt of Kai, his smile.

Day 280 since the Accident.

She had to turn. Choose of home or Mars. So, she turned right.

Day 281 since the Accident.

“Jackson?” she asked over the radio, her throat dry.

“Captain Burkett,” he replied, an upturn in his voice. “How are you feeling?”

“Jackson, what is home?”

She heard his breath for a while before he answered. “What else but where we feel the safest?”

She didn’t need to tell him she was slipping; he knew. The wires pulling one by one.

“Amelia. I believe in you.” And it was then she knew he wasn’t a robot, there was a man named Jackson that was there for her across the solar system, a stranger that answered her calls in the dead of night.

The air came to wrap around her like a blanket. “I know.”

When the golden light appeared in the distance, curving around the planet, she turned to the stars.

“Stars, what is home?”

And for once, they stayed silent.