Rúna poked listlessly at her food, before shoving it away in disgust. It wasn’t the quality of the food, that had actually improved since the reinforcements arrived. She just didn’t have an appetite, not since…

Rising from the makeshift table, she jammed her hands in her pockets and stalked off in search of some quiet spot where she could be alone. Becca, Yendrick, and Arthur were all in orbit, getting treated for their injuries, and Terra alone knew what Doc was doing now. It left her the sole member of the squad still on the surface, the only one still alive, anyway. She hadn’t been up to visit, even though wrangling a spot on a shuttle wouldn’t be an issue for her.

She just couldn’t bring herself to face them.

If I’d been smarter, maybe they’d still be alive, she thought bitterly to herself, even though she recognized the trap it represented. Survivor’s Guilt was no stranger to the Valkyries, and she’d experienced twinges of it in the past, but nothing like this. Of course, she’d never been through a meat grinder like this before, either. She was so wrapped up in her own suffering she almost blundered into the figure blocking her path, only coming to an abrupt halt at the last possible second.

“You have the look of someone whose thoughts are light-years distant,” the Paygan told her. Bandages covered the left side of his face and traveled down to his chest, speaking to more serious wounds.

“I thought your king ordered you to evacuate,” Rúna said curiously.

“So he did,” the Ixian agreed. “I imagine he will be quite cross with me for disobeying his command, though I am also certain he will get over it in time. We are family, after all.” His grin was as wide and infectious as always, and Rúna found it difficult to remain sullen in his presence.

“Why didn’t you go?” she asked him.

His grin softened to a gentle smile. “Because a warrior I have come to respect refused to go herself,” he answered, her face reddening as she looked away. “How could I do any less?”

“I wish to God I had,” she whispered, unable to meet his gaze.

“You mourn those you have lost,” he nodded sagely.

“Yes,” she said softly.

He cocked his head, regarding her. “You feel their deaths had no meaning,” he surmised, “that they died in vain.”

“Yes,” she said again, as tears appeared in her eyes.

The Paygan nodded once again. “Come,” he said, extending his hand as he beckoned to her, “there is something I wish to show you.”

She looked up, eyeing him with suspicion. “And go where?” she demanded.

“You will see,” he said enigmatically.

Her gut instinct was to turn and walk away, but something in his voice stopped her in her tracks. With a shaky nod, she agreed, following behind as he led her away from the Valkyrie encampment.

“Why here?” Rúna questioned the Ixian, as the pair climbed the rocky cliffs overlooking the bay.

“I will explain in a moment,” he told her as they reached the summit.

She paused for a moment to catch her breath, before turning to face him. “Why? What’s so special about this place?”

“See for yourself,” he told her, gesturing at the ocean.

Shaking her head, she looked at the sea. “I swear, if this is some sort of fucking joke…” she snapped, only to have the words die in her throat as she stared in shock at the water below.

The eggs were hatching.

After all they had been through, she’d almost forgotten the original reason for their mission. Even as she watched, thousands, millions of egg sacs were bursting open, the tiny creatures inside breaking free from their shells and taking their first strokes. Already she could see them heading for deeper waters, the ancient call driving them onward as they began their journey.

“Life’s circle begins anew,” the Paygan said gently over her shoulder. “We are born, live our lives, and then pass on, making room for those that follow.” His words hit her like a hammer blow, with tears she had thought she was no longer capable of crying streaming down her face as she stared at the infant Sonoitii swimming towards the ocean.

Going home.

“Because of you, they now have a chance to live,” he explained. “Sergeant Kai and the others didn’t die in vain, Rúna,” he smiled, coming around to see her reaction. “And in the future, should you ever question that… remember this day.”

He smiled once more and departed, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She found a spot where she could sit, letting her feet dangle over the edge, watching the baby dragons she had fought so hard to protect exult in their hard-earned freedom.

It was several hours later that she climbed back down off that cliff, only to discover the day still had surprises in store.

“Rúna!” she heard someone shout behind her, a voice she didn’t recognize. Turning, she stared in amazement as a young boy came running towards her, his arms outstretched, a collection of tools jangling around his waist. The kid slammed into her, hugging her tight, even as she spotted an older woman coming up behind him.

“Damn it, boy, told you to wait for me,” she wheezed. “I ain't no spring chicken, you know.”

“Diggs?” she gasped, staring down at the kid hugging her midriff. He nodded, grinning a familiar grin, and then hugged her even tighter. She looked up at the boy's companion, her face softening for the first time in days. “Hello, Maggie,” she greeted her.

“Hey yourself,” the Tinker answered as she caught up to them both. “Now you let her breathe, boy,” she admonished him, making him blush as he reluctantly loosened his grip. “That’s a good lad,” she chuckled, ruffling his hair.

“What… what are you two doing here?” she asked.

“Come to see you,” the older woman explained. “Freya is still in orbit, and once the kid heard it was your outfit down here, he wouldn’t shut up about wantin’ to visit.”

Rúna blinked. “He wouldn’t shut up?” she repeated, the words making no sense to her.

“It’s true,” Diggs insisted, her astonishment growing by leaps and bounds. “I begged Momma Maggie to let us come see you, lots of times. Didn’t I?” he asked the Tinker, who merely chuckled at the Valkyrie’s stunned expression.

“Kid started talkin’ a few months back,” she confirmed, “like a dam cut loose or somethin’. Guess he’s makin’ up for lost time.” Her expression sobered as she regarded the younger woman. “Plus, wanted to come pay our respects,” she said quietly. “We heard about Kai and the others. I’m sorry, girl,” she told her, touching her shoulder in sympathy.

“So am I,” she answered. Her eyes were misty as she looked at Maggie. “I miss him. I miss all of them.”

“Reckon there’d be somethin’ wrong with you if you didn’t,” she agreed, “and I figure I know a little somethin’ about things not turnin’ out like you’d hoped.” She sighed for a moment, then gazed down at Diggs. “But I also learned life has a way of surprisin’ you, when you least suspect it.” She smiled, tousling his hair once more.

“I’m not there yet, Maggie,” she told her, “not sure I ever will be.” She closed her eyes, the pain hitting her yet again.

“Don’t cry, Rúna,” Diggs said, trying to help as best he could, hugging her tighter than ever.

She sniffled for a moment and then knelt down in front of the boy, so they were the same height. “Seeing you again is the best medicine I could have asked for,” she said honestly. “You taking good care of your mom?”

“Uh huh,” he nodded eagerly. “She’s been teaching me engineering too! Last week we fixed the engines after the Troika shot ‘em all up. And they work great!” he said with pride.

“Mostly he handed me tools,” Maggie grinned, “though he’s learnin’ fast. Expect he’ll make Journeyman ‘fore I did.”

“That’s wonderful, Diggs,” she smiled. “I’m so happy for you.” This time she hugged him, holding him close, stroking his hair as he wrapped his arms around her neck. A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye, but she quickly wiped it away. Maggie ignored it as the two women shared a look. A knowing nod passed between them, as she carefully disengaged herself and rose to her feet.

“Come on kid, time to get goin’,” Maggie told the boy, taking his hand. “Got bulkheads that need fixin’.”

“But… we just got here!” Diggs protested.

“Your mom’s right,” Rúna smiled. “Besides, I’ve got work too. But before you go…”

She looked around them, quickly gathering up a few rocks and oddball items, and started to juggle. Diggs clapped with glee, laughing as she gave him her best effort, putting on a show like she hadn’t done in ages. Maggie herself grinned as she pulled off the big finish, this time by whipping her sword out of its scabbard and throwing it high into the air, catching the items one by one as the sword landed in front of her, sinking blade first into the dirt with a solid thunk as she took her bow.

“That was awesome!” Diggs capered and laughed.

“Still my biggest fan,” she smiled, bending down and kissing him softly on the cheek. Flushing in embarrassment, he retreated to Maggie’s side, though he managed a smile as he touched his face. Somehow, she suspected he wouldn’t be washing it for a while. “You two take care of each other,” she told them, “and who knows? Maybe our paths will cross again.”

“Come on up to Freya, ‘fore we depart,” Maggie invited her. “I’m proud of the old girl, even if those damn fool Corsairs keep gettin’ my baby shot full of holes.” She turned and spat while Rúna threw back her head and laughed. The Tinker’s eyes twinkled with merriment as she led the boy back the way they’d come, though Diggs turned back and waved goodbye one last time. Smiling, Rúna returned the gesture, retrieving her blade and wiping it clean before sliding it back into its sheath. She watched them as they walked back to the landing pad and boarded a shuttle, shading her eyes as it took off and climbed towards the sky.

Two days later, she was tasked with a familiar duty, one she had performed several times before. This time there were plenty of fresh faces aboard, reinforcements still getting their feet wet as the coxswain guided the small boat out to deep waters. The Commandant was there as well; the pair exchanging a brief glance but saying nothing as she took her seat. She and the other officers conferred in hushed tones while Rúna moved to the bow, planting a boot on the gunwale as the salt spray splashed across her face. She inhaled deeply, smelling the ocean’s perfume, closing her eyes and letting the heavy mist wash over her as the small craft bounced across the waves, her body easily finding its balance as they headed for their rendezvous. She chuckled to herself as she heard someone retching behind her, remembering her first trip out.

Had it only been two months ago? It seemed like a lifetime.

The newbies gave her a wide berth, her and the other veterans of the 2/2. She saw the whispers at chow, the envious glances when they thought she wasn’t looking. On rare occasions a hardy few would work up the courage to approach her, all of them wanting to see the sword. Apparently, it had become part of the legend too.

All of which led her to one inescapable question: where the hell did she go from here? What does a legend do for an encore?

The boat slowed, before finally coming to rest. Colonel Holme approached the bow, giving Rúna a nod of acknowledgment. She nodded in return, before retreating and giving him space while steering clear of Zakiyya. As before, they didn’t have long to wait.

A massive head arose from the bubbling water, quickly followed by two others. The trio of Sonoitii gazed down at them, as the colonel bowed in respect. “I greet you, Overseer Bidras’nassa,” he said.

“And I you, Colonel Holme,” the dragon answered. Rúna’s eyebrow quirked at that. It was the first time it had called him anything other than “Land Creature”. It paused, as if it were searching for the proper words, and then the mighty beast bowed its head low, abasing itself before the Terrans.

“We owe you a debt, one we may never be able to repay,” it intoned. “Our children have reached the ocean and are already thriving. Many will not survive this stage of their development… but others will. Those that endure will be the strongest, most intelligent, and best able to adapt. So it is, so it has always been.”

“I understand,” Holme nodded.

The trio looked at one another, some silent bit of communication passing between them before the Overseer returned its gaze. “When first we met, we assumed you would be like those that came before, eager to line your pockets and sacrifice our offspring in the name of greed. Instead… your own sacrificed your very lives to protect our offspring, enduring hardships that defy imagination. In all our history, no other race has done as you have, and we do not know how to honor you as you truly deserve. We have spent much time discussing this amongst ourselves, and we believe we may have a way to begin balancing the debt between us.”

“Oh?” Holme said in surprise. “What are you suggesting?”

“A trade,” Bidras’nassa explained. “Each cycle we have searched for beings able to protect our hatchlings, and each time they betrayed us. Yours is the only race that has treated our contract with respect, and more so, at great personal cost. When the next cycle returns, we wish for no other to take the contract. Only you.”

“A permanent standing arrangement?” he said carefully, glancing back at the Commandant. The older woman grinned, giving him the nod. “I believe that would be acceptable to us, but you also said something about a trade. What else are you putting on the table?”

“If we are to grant you a perpetual contract here on this world, we believe it would be necessary to make certain… arrangements,” it said somewhat cryptically. “In the time you have spent here, we have learned much about your people. In particular, we have learned that you have no home.”

“That is unfortunately true,” Holme said quietly.

“We regret we cannot assist you in this way; our race is small, with few developed assets. We cannot give over our world to you.” The Terrans nodded, almost in unison, though it was tinged with an all too familiar pain. “However,” Bidras’nassa continued, “we can give you this: a permanent installation where you may house and train your warriors.”

The colonel’s jaw dropped. “You’re offering us a military base?” he answered, flabbergasted by the proposition.

“We are,” the Overseer confirmed. “Also, as a member of the Alliance, we believe other members may find it suitable for their needs as well, though we would charge you with monitoring their conduct. You have earned our trust; the others are still on sufferance.”

Rúna felt a lump in her throat, as the colonel suddenly needed to look away, wiping at his eyes. Their offer even moved that bitch of a commandant, Zakiyya.

“We’ll need to place ships in orbit as well,” Holme said carefully. “Many ships, if we’re to keep both you and us safe.”

“So we assumed,” Bidras’nassa concurred. “It is not much, but it is all we have to offer. Do you accept?”

Colonel Holme glanced over at her and suddenly grinned, and Rúna found herself grinning back. He turned his attention back to the massive water dragon awaiting his answer.

“We do.”