Barron looked across the bay at Sam Carson’s widow. Lise Varov was a naval officer too, and she was clad in her dress blues, standing silent, motionless, an infant cradled in her arms. She stood almost at attention, clearly struggling to keep herself together. Barron knew he would only shatter her tenuous control if he went over and spoke with her, but he also knew he had no choice. He owed it to Sam.

He walked across the room, conscious of the sound his boots made on the metal floor. Varov saw him coming about halfway there, and she turned to face him.

“Lieutenant Varov…I just wanted to express my deepest regrets for your loss.” Barron could see the tears welling up in her eyes, her efforts to hold them back.

“Thank you, Captain, but please, call me Lise.” Her voice was soft, tentative. “You’re very kind.”

“Sam was an extraordinary officer, Lise. You should know he was truly a hero. He died saving his comrades—everyone on Dauntless. Our survival likely averted a war with the Alliance, which means he died to protect Archellia as well. To protect you, and his son.”

Varov gasped a breath, losing her struggle to hold back the tears. “He will never see his son, Captain. And my child will never know his father.”

Barron was fishing for words, knowing nothing he said would be adequate. “I can’t imagine your pain, Lise. And please call me Tyler…none of this captain foolishness.” He hesitated, again unsure what else to say. “I considered Sam my friend, Lise, as well as one of my crew. Whatever you need…if there is ever anything I can do for you, now or ten years from now, all you have to do is ask.”

She looked back at Barron, tears streaming down her cheeks now. “Thank you, Ca…Tyler. You are a good man. I can see why Sam felt he needed to go with you.”

Barron felt her words like daggers. He knew she meant them as a compliment, but they only reminded him that he had led his people to Santis. They had followed him there, and nearly a quarter of them had come back in sleek, metallic coffins. Including Sam Carson.

Words failed him, and he stood silently for a moment, finally saying simply, “Remember, if there’s ever anything you need…”

Lise nodded and swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Thank you, Tyler.”

Barron returned the nod…and he stood quietly for a moment. Then he turned and walked slowly toward the exit. He’d never been the kind of officer to crave battle, to seek glory. But he felt empty now, desolate.

Can this be what you felt, grandfather? Amid the parades, the celebrations, the endless honors, were you as hollowed out inside as I am now?