28-31: order/wood â 31: favourite death
The Toy Soldier is alone. The ship is quiet and empty, drifting aimlessly through the stars without its pilot, with only a discarded toy left to man it now. It walks along the familiar corridors, and muses over how different they seem without the crew.
Nastya said that they had replaced every single part of what once was her Aurora and left them for it,but for the Toy Soldier, that isnât it. Physical changes never bothered it; it had its friends, and was content.
But now? Now the friends are gone, and the Toy Soldier is alone. One by one, they died, and after each death, the remaining ones grew quieter, more tired and withdrawn. Only the Toy Soldier remained unchanged, with its cheerful, painted smile and chipper voice. If any of them noticed how some of the spark had gone out of its song, they never said.
Brian was the last to go. Was it long ago? It doesnât think so, but it hasnât been keeping track of time lately. Heâd come into its workshop while it was finishing the final touches on a carving of Nastya, and sat down, patiently waiting for it to be done. When it put the knife down, pleased with having completed the full set of its lost friends, he took its hand.
âIâve come to say goodbye, TSâ, he said, and the Toy Soldier looked at him, uncomprehending.
âBut We Are In The Middle Of Space! Where â Oh.â It remembers the moment of realisation, when it knew what he was going to do, and how strange it made it feel. None of the others had said goodbye. Its woodenlimbs felt strangely wobbly when it held out the freshly finished carving to him. âYou Should Take This With You, Then, Old Sport! Iâve Heard That Itâs Dreadfully Lonely Out There!â
âOh.â Brian took the carving and turned it over in his hands. This Nastya looked like she had when she was happiest, playing her violin with her eyes raised towards the ceiling, hair flying around her shoulders. âThank you, TSâ, he whispered, a tinny echo in his voice. Then he left.
The Toy Soldier didnât follow him, and when it emerged from its workshop a few hours later, it was alone.
Since then, itâs completed two new carvings. One of Nastya to replace the one Brian had taken with him⌠and one of Brian himself, with goggles and a large rose on his hat, strumming his banjo with a dreamy expression. Its smile doesnât waver as it sets it down among its fellows, the crew complete again at last.
The Toy Soldier regards its work for a while, standing as still as the wooden figures in front of it. All nine of them stare back at it with their vacant, wooden eyes, the good Doctor placed a bit behind the rest, but there all the same, looking happy to be reunited with her family all the same. With the stiffest upper lip in the known Universe, the Toy Soldier salutes its friends one last time.
âGoodbye, Old Friends!â it says. âItâs Been An Honour!â
Then it sits down among them, and surrounded by its crew, it finally stops pretending.
