Late in the evening, as her husband was sleeping in the bed nearby, Hannah Shepard was sitting at her desk, trying to chart a future for the colony that avoided the predicted disasters reported on her holo-terminal. Yes, all across the colony, countless VI programs were constantly absorbing and then analyzing data. From that data, they were constantly making predictions, sending her and her advisors detailed reports to interpret.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. And she did not like what those reports had to say. Collectively, they pointed to an irrefutable conclusion.

That the colony would collapse within the next thirty to fifty years.

She pursed her lips, then huffed through her nose. What am I going to do? Yes, how could she steer the colony’s future away from the oncoming food crisis, when the colony’s population grew beyond what the aeroponics and vat facilities could produce? How could she steer it away from economic stagnation, when further expansion would become impossible? And how could she do it all without the colony descending into anarchy – without her becoming a dictator?

She gritted her teeth, then exhaled through her nose. Damn it. All of these questions were driving her insane! And the funeral earlier today certainly wasn’t making her work any easier. She slid her hand down her face.

Yes, it had robbed her of sleep.

At Logan’s funeral, barely anyone except the pilot’s wife and daughter had attended. There, she tried to speak with them. But then Logan’s wife had glared at her with murderous hate. She’s not done mourning. Indeed, she had nearly made a fool of herself, all because of her selfish need to stop feeling responsible for the death of that woman’s husband.

She took a deep breath. But at least there was some good news after that. Yes, Rick was going to be okay. At the colony’s largest hospital, the ER surgeons had saved his life, and now her husband’s good friend was recovering in a med-tank.

Closing her eyes, she yawned. Brain fog clogged her mind, and her eyes lids felt heavy. She reached for her cup of coffee, only to find it empty. Oh…

Again, she yawned. She glanced at the bed, and oh, how comfortable would it be to fall asleep in Mark’s arms, to —

She frowned. Damn it. No, she couldn’t sleep now. She still had to finish…

She closed her eyes, and everything went black.

Until a bright flash and a sharp thwoom snapped her back into reality.

Her pulse spiked. Frantically, she scanned her surroundings, as though she’d just been ambushed. What…What happened?

On her terminal, she saw the current time, and her eyes widened. No…

Almost two hours had passed. Closing her eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose, then took a deep breath. Oh, who was she kidding? She needed rest. With a clear head, maybe her work would be easier.

When she opened her eyes, she spotted one of her desk decorations – a souvenir from the Prothean Archives on Mars – floating above its stand. Spherical and about the size of her fist, it kept spinning erratically in place. And the intersecting circles inscribed on its black, mirror-like surface kept shifting and pulsing with green light.

She grabbed it, and instantly, her souvenir went still. Smiling, she held it in one hand, trailing her fingers along its surface, which felt like glass.

This marks the third time . Neither she nor anyone knew why or when these objects behaved this way, only to go still again once touched. But every time it happened, she couldn’t help but ponder the cosmic mystery in which humanity had found itself after discovering the Prothean Archives.

Yes, what had happened to the Protheans?

What were their plans for humanity?

And why was the galaxy such a dead-silent graveyard?

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Indeed, even now – 150 years after John Grissom had founded humanity’s first interstellar colony – nobody had found any trace of other alien civilizations.

Only more prothean ruins.

She huffed through her nose. So many had their theories. That maybe the protheans were still out there. That maybe humanity had slipped through the notice of whatever wiped them out. Or that maybe humans were the last sentient species alive in the galaxy. But nowadays, the consensus was that first contact was a fantasy, a scenario for holo dramas, not real life. And…

She sighed. She couldn’t help but agree. She put her souvenir back on its stand, right next to a holo-pict of Mark playing with her two precious boys. I guess we’ll never know.

Just then, Mark stirred. “No…No, you can’t…”

She snapped her attention to her husband. No, he was sleep-talking again. And that could only mean one thing: that deep down he was not okay.

That the Io Station Massacre had followed him all the way to this planet.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. I should have known. God, why was it so hard for him to ask for help?

“No…” Mark said, “We can’t do this. This is wrong. This is murder. I won’t become just like…” He gasped. “No…STOP!”

Mark launched himself upright, panting. Frantically, he looked all around the room, as if he’d woken up to a raging warzone.

“Hey,” she said softly, sitting on the bed right next him. Gently, she touched his arm, and her heart broke. Just look at me, damn it! You stubborn, stubborn man. “Hey, it’s okay. Mark. Mark, please, just look at me.”

He took a deep breath, then slid his hand down his face and looked at her. In his eyes, she found only shame.

“It happened again?” he asked, looking at the ground, his shoulders slumped.

“Yeah.”

He pursed his lips and gulped. “So now you know, huh?”

She stroked his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He sighed. “Figured you already had enough to worry about. And our boys…” He looked away, and his eyes welled with tears. “If they saw me like this, if they knew what I…”

“Hey.” She moved her hand up his arm and caressed his cheek, staring deeply into his eyes, “You have nothing to be ashamed of. The Io Station Massacre, it…” Briefly, she looked away and gulped. “It was nothing short of a tragedy, an embarrassing fuck up from the top brass that shouldn’t have ever happened.” She stroked his cheek. “Even for a man like you, I can’t imagine how hard it must be to have something like that on your conscious.” She let out a mirthless, sarcastic laugh. “Hell, in your shoes, it would have driven me insane.” She took a deep breath. “But please, Mark…” She kissed him. “Don’t be afraid to ask for help. You’re not the only veteran in this colony with a…difficult past. And I love you too much to see you burdened with this any longer.”

He smiled. “I know.” He looked away. “I know…”

She tilted her head. “So you’ll see Dr. Bhatti tomorrow?”

For what felt like hours, Mark remained silent, then took a deep breath. “Ok. I’ll see him tomorrow.” He kissed her. “I promise.”

Just then, another notification popped up on her holo-terminal. Briefly, Mark looked at it, then back at her. He frowned. “Have you been up until now?”

“Oh, uhm…” For a moment, she looked at the ground, scratching her neck. Damn it. What could she say to him?. “I couldn’t sleep. I was…well, you see there was –”

“You can’t keep doing this,” he said. “You can’t keep distracting yourself from what happened with Logan and his family.”

She sighed, looking at the ground. “I know. I know. At the funeral, I tried but…”

“But what?”

“The way Logan’s wife looked at me,” she said. Momentarily, she looked back to it, and even now it sent a chill down her spine. “God, Mark…you should have seen it. It was like she wanted to kill me.”

“So she’s not ready,” he said, scratching his beard. He sighed. “Ok. But sooner or later, you have to talk to them. I know it’s scary. I know it won’t be easy. But if you want peace, you’ll have to do it. There’s no other way.”

For a while, she gripped her chin, looking at the ground. Did you ever wish you could have told their families sorry? Yes, did her husband not want her to suffer the same pain that he went through? If that was the case, then she had to listen to him. She had to honor his request. “Ok.”

She yawned.

Mark smiled. “Anyways, it’s already so late. And it looks like somebody is tired.”

“Yeah, I think I definitely–”

Without warning, Mark pulled her in for a hug, then leaned back down on the bed. She squealed, giggling. And Mark laughed.

She snuggled into him, laying her head on his chest and intertwining her legs with his. She melted in his embrace, and for a while, she relished the present moment, drinking in every sensation from his warm body heat, to the sound of his heartbeat.

“Hannah?”

“Yes?”

“One more thing,” he said. “Once Rick makes a full recovery, I think I’ll stick to leading from the rear. No more frontline missions.”

“Oh…” she said. Inwardly, she was beaming. “But why?”

He exhaled. “That mission…I think it might have sparked some old feelings and sensations I’d rather forget. And besides…” He turned, facing her, then put one hand on her cheek. “The colony needs me. Our boys need me. And most of all…” He kissed her. “You need me.”

She let out a weak laugh, shedding a few tears of joy. Without hesitation, she grabbed his head, then pressed her lips to his in a deep, passionate kiss. Meanwhile, Mark ran his hand up her side. Then before she knew it, she and Mark had undressed each other and were making love.

Amidst the ensuing feast of heavenly sensations, she knew beyond any doubt that abandoning her old life in the Sol System had the best decision she had ever made. Yes, she wouldn’t trade her current situation for anything in the galaxy.