@taznovembercelebration Day 21 - Night
Lucretia knocks quietly on the door to the bridge. It's late, and the rest of the crew have fallen into bed after a long day of recon. But the Light fell just as they were finishing dinner, and Davenport has been piloting them through the night on a course towards where it fell--the sooner they get there, the better.
Even after all these years, the bridge of the Starblaster still feels like a sacred space, a place that is wholly Davenport's in a way even his cabin isn't. Anywhere else on the ship, he always seems aware of his place as the captain, the duties and responsibilities that brings with it. Here, leaning back in his pilot's chair as he steers them through the quiet night, Davenport for once looks truly relaxed.
"I brought you some tea," Lucretia says, setting the steaming mug down on the small shelf next to the console.
Davenport looks up and gives her a small smile. "Thanks."
They are silent for a moment, watching the world pass by below them. The glass walls of the bridge offer an uninterrupted view of the night: below, an expanse of trees in shades of blue and grey and black stretching into the distance, and above, the endless, starry sky.
"It's something, isn't it?" Davenport says. He's looking up through the glass, and his face reflect the same awe and wonder that she feels.
Lucretia lets out a long, slow sigh, her eyes on the stars. "It really is."
She will never cease to be amazed by the feeling of looking up at an entirely new sky, scattered with new constellations. So much of their journey is hard and dark and terrible. But Lucretia never gets tired of the skies.
"You know, I never really looked at the stars, back home," she says. "If I was up late at night it was usually because I was writing. I don't know if I even knew any constellations."
"I don't think I ever stopped looking at them," Davenport says. "I would have stargazed every night if my parents let me. Like maybe if I stared at them long enough, I could figure out their secrets. Figure out how I could get up there."
"You wanted to be an astronaut when you were a kid?"
He laughs. "I suppose. It wasn't even that specific though. I just wanted to fly. I wanted to explore, see what was out there, sure, but to fly, higher and farther than anyone had before? That was the dream."
"Well, here you are," she says, and instantly regrets it.
He laughs again, but it's a little sad this time, a little rueful. "Here I am. Higher and farther than anyone's ever been."
They're silent again for a while, contemplating the stars of this new world--so much stranger and more wonderful than anything either of them ever expected to encounter, when all this started.
And as much as she doesn't want to, Lucretia can't help but think about the fact that soon, those stars will begin to go out.
"We'll find a way to stop it, someday," Lucretia says. "We have to, right?"
Davenport doesn't answer right away. The starlight filtering through the glass limns the edges of his face, the determined set of his jaw as steers them over yet another world they will try to save.
"Yeah," he says, finally. "We will. Someday."
