Space

Astrid's mind had been elsewhere.

In Vermont, sitting on the edge of Ryker's warm bed, to be exact, pulling her boots on in the scant light spilling into the room, a lump of sadness like a hot coal rising in her throat.

Tell them you can't go, he was saying.

Outside, the night was deep blue. The windows were veined with frost. He was beautiful, wild-haired and sleepy.

It's only a few months.

Her voice was hoarse with sorrow. Ryker sat up and wrapped her in a playful hug. He knew this wasn't just a job; it was something she had waited her whole life for.

I mean, if you wanted some space–

She loved his smile when he was teasing her.

She should have stayed, she thought. She should have kicked off her boots and climbed back into that bed and–

She should have paid attention.

Jeez, Astrid, she could almost hear him saying.

She was shivering uncontrollably; her legs were surely shattered, and each ragged breath was a knife in her chest.

Through shattered glass and crumpled metal, the shrieking wind threatened to finish tearing her to shreds. Nothing in the barren, howling wilderness outside the destruction gave her any clue as to where she was.

The snow blew sideways.

With the last of her oxygen, Commander Astrid Martell marvelled at how very much it looked like the snow on Earth.