An extra set of hands would be helpful, but I’ve already set every other conscious body I found—including Lyre, Drom, and some of the pirates—to the task of making sure all the nonconscious bodies are strapped into chairs and secure. Thankfully, nobody asked too many questions. It seems everyone was able to assume the truth.

Once I transport the last of the alien vials over, I head to Fortuna’s cockpit, set a course on autopilot, and type in the command code I never thought I’d have to use. My heart aches as my hands slide across the familiar controls for the last time. I want to savor every step on this ship and every moment in the cockpit that’s always been my favorite place in the world, but there’s no time for sentiment. Seems there rarely is, nowadays.

I settle for kissing my palm and smacking it against the dashboard. For once, I’m glad to be sober. If I can savor nothing else, I’ll savor the hurt of this moment, the pure unfiltered pain of letting go. I want to remember every last second of it.

On the way back to the Red Baron’s cockpit, I pass a number of unconscious mercs and pirates strapped into launch chairs. Captain Murdock is one of them, covered almost head to toe in duct tape, which makes me laugh despite the circumstances. If he survives this crash, he’s not going to be happy when he wakes up. But that’s assuming any of us survive, I guess.

My family waits in the cockpit. Thankfully, the size of the room means there are enough chairs for us all to be together. Lyre is already strapped in and waiting, while Drom is making sure a now-unconscious Corvus is secured to the copilot’s chair I left him in. His breathing is even, though weak, and his face is peaceful.

Somehow, I find myself smiling as I take my own seat. I buckle the straps and click through the ship’s external cameras just in time to watch Fortuna launch away from us. She’s clearly struggling against Nibiru’s pull, but gradually, the space between us widens. My throat is tight, my chest constricted, but I fight off tears. I want to see this clearly.

“Wow,” Lyre murmurs. “I never realized she looked so…”

“Small?” Drom suggests, seating herself now that she’s done with Corvus. I flip her off without turning around.