The next morning, Buster accompanied Kayla to the spaceport. Since her luggage was long gone, he was carrying a duffel bag of supplies he had put together.

She had had a great time the night before, staying up late into the night talking to the people at Zed Steadman. It was such a strange situation to be in, knowing that she wasn't going to be here tomorrow and she would probably never see any of these people again. As she talked to them, she found herself overcoming her instinct not to bother people. After all, these people were her friends. And if she messed up then she wouldn't be around to deal with the consequences regardless.

She was delighted to find that people opened up to her when she asked. Unlike the burnouts she had avoided in college, these were people with lived experiences to talk about. She had thought conversations were boring, but she just needed the right people to talk to.

As they walked side by side, she was surprised at how little she was thinking of Alia. She knew that she was there, waiting for her. She wasn't going anywhere. She could think about herself a little. Now that she knew she had a future again, she wanted to make the most of it.

Outside the spaceport, Buster hesitated. "Listen, before you go. Before we say our goodbyes. I just need to ask you something."

"Go for it." Kayla said.

The panda took a deep breath, reflexively reaching for his pocket. "Everybody here who likes me relies on me for something. So they're always reassuring me and comforting me, and they never say or do anything that might threaten the thing they get from me. That's just how people work, I get it. But you don't need me anymore, and you're probably never going to see me again. You've spent time with me, you've seen me at my extremes, you know my past. What do you think about me? I know what Nakuna says about me and I know what my friends say about me but I don't feel like that's giving me the complete picture."

Kayla considered her words carefully. This man had saved her life. "I think that what you did was good, Buster. We're at war with Nakuna, and..."

The panda held up his paw, interrupting her. "I don't mean what you think about what I did. I want to know what you think of me. You remind me of me when I was your age, and I feel like you vibe with me more than most people. What am I? Like, how would you describe me to your friends?"

This was maybe the most somber she had ever seen the panda. A thought immediately came to mind, and she felt bad because it was really mean. But it was funny. She considered keeping it to herself, but relented; when did Buster ever keep a thought to himself?

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Kayla drew in a breath, subtly shifting her weight to pose as if she reciting a great and timeless oration.

"Some men would really rather kill 451 people than go to therapy."

She looked at Buster, checking his expression. He burst into genuine laughter, even if his round ears flattened against his head.

"I forgot you were a pseudonet person. Thank you, sincerely. I couldn't go to therapy without losing my job, so I'm blaming Nakuna for that one too. But I get the point." he said sheepishly, obviously trying to hide his wounded pride for her sake more than his.

She hesitated. She wanted to say more. It was sad to see him trapped in the same cycles of violence and fear that had hurt him so badly all those years ago. He bragged about harassing and intimidating people as if the fact that he meant well and did it with a smile made it acceptable. He had found a community that accepted and supported him, but it was one built around shepherding poison across the galaxy just like the one he escaped. He had someone holding his leash, but they weren't going to be there forever. Buster was so afraid of Big Zig burning down, but he would just as surely go up in flames one day himself. She didn't want her new life to burn down with him.

She she tried her best to gently let him down. She could unpack why she felt the need to be gentle later

"I'm glad you're here, Buster. I learned a lot from you. You bring a lot of color to a very bleak place. I can't wait to tell Alia all about our adventure." She reassured him gently.

"Well hey, we have each others' signals. I'll see if I can't get Petro to pull the blackbox recordings from the Anole so you can show her. I haven't been married for a long time, but that seems like the type of thing that would score points with your SO."

Kayla's tail twitched. "You were married?"

Buster gave her a sad smile. "Yeah. She tried to kill me so I had to blow up the mech she was in. At least I didn't kill her, the mercenary she had teamed up with did that beforehand. It really sucked, I don't like to talk about it."

"I see."

Buster let out a breath. He wished he had brought his vaporizer with him for the walk home.

He handed her the duffel bag and waved goodbye as she opened the door to the spaceport. The pilot was already inside, waiting, and they waved in excited recognition of their passenger. The runway was subterranean, but he could imagine the ship inside fueled and ready for takeoff.

"Goodbye Kayla! I hope I never see you here again, but if you ever need help so long as I'm around you'll have someone to come to." he waved, voice dipping.

"Thank you, Buster. I'm never going to forget Redtree as long I live. If I ever hear from my parents again, I'll remember your advice. I guess I'm pretty good at making people uncomfortable too." she called, looking back one last time before slinging the duffel bag over her shoulder and following the pilot to her new life.

Buster never heard from Kayla again.

Such is life on Redtree.

Such is life when you're the Butcher of Baldwin's Fall.

Such is life.

But when she started writing, every time one of her articles lit up his tablet it always made his day.

And years later, when she started fundraising? A donation from one Mr. Zed Steadman formed a small but essential step on her own journey.

Kayla Martineaux would be remembered by the history books as the definitive combat journalist of the fall of Nakuna.

Buster would remember her when he looked to the stars.