The damage was considerable. I limped back to Bonestell point with a handful of revenge vouchers.

Fuck. They weren't revenge. Not really. They were to satisfy my ego. My hunger to prove myself more than a tour guide.

I had a long flight to reflect.

I slid into drydock and looked at how close it really was.

Sixteen ablated layers of armor, burned clean through. A slug lodged in the bulkhead behind my cockpit. Inches.

The ship would be fine in days. But would I?


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