The hall buzzes with noise—colonists eating, laughing, voices overlapping in a warm, chaotic hum.

  Arthur sits alone at a table, his plate half-eaten.

  Mary slides onto the bench across from him.

  “How are you, handsome?”

  Arthur looks up, a gentle smile forming.

  “You’re Mary, right?” He fumbles slightly, trying to be polite. After a pause, he adds, “I appreciate the kiss—but I’m happily married. And have been for a very long time.”

  Embarrassment flickers across her face.

  “Oh. No, I’m sorry.” She forces a smile. “Is she here in the camp, or off-world? No wonder you’ve been avoiding me for the last two weeks.”

  “She’s off-world,” Arthur says softly. “But she’s always on my mind and more importantly in my heart. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

  Sarah’s voice whispers in his ear from the Void.

  “I love you too.”

  Arthur takes another bite, swallows.

  “Are you married?”

  Mary leans back.

  “Widowed.” Her gaze drifts away. “My husband died three years ago. Mining accident on Hygoth Seven.” She looks back at him. “If I’d known you were married, I never would’ve— I just didn’t see a ring.”

  Arthur lowers his eyes.

  “I traded it away. A long time ago.”

  “I sold mine to get here,” Mary says quickly. “Times are tough.” A small smile. “What did you trade yours for?”

  Arthur’s expression sobers.

  “To save a friend’s life,” he says quietly. “Never felt right replacing it.”

  Sarah’s voice echoes gently.

  “Temnah’s life was worth it. She was a good friend. A wonderful person.”

  Mary’s smile fades.

  “That’s… a lot. What happened?”

  Arthur opens his mouth to answer—

  Then—

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  A deep boom tears through the hall.

  The floor shudders. Panic ripples outward as colonists surge toward a rising column of smoke.

  Arthur is already running.

  He pauses only long enough to recognize the body of a man he helped the day before—then pushes into the smoke.

  The wall builder lies in ruins, metal still burning.

  “Fire suppressors!” Arthur shouts. “Now!”

  Minutes later, the machine sits silent, smoke pouring from its seams.

  Arthur climbs onto a blackened panel, pries open a hatch, peers inside.

  “Circuits are gone. Completely fried. This thing’s dead.”

  Byrand arrives at last, barking orders. He spots Arthur.

  “How’s it looking?”

  Arthur doesn’t answer immediately. He looks at the wreckage—then the bodies.

  “We have three dead,” he says, giving the words space. “It’s an old model. At least eighty years.” His jaw tightens. “Another Daevos shortcut.”

  Byrand barely reacts.

  “Dammit. We were fifty feet from completion. After that, we could’ve stripped it for parts.”

  “I’ll put a team together,” Arthur says. “We’ll finish by hand.”

  “No,” Byrand replies. “Jef will handle it.” He turns back to Arthur. “You—check the rest of the equipment. I don’t want any more surprises.”

  Arthur studies him for a long moment.

  “I'll get on it.”

  ---

  Arthur spends the next three days moving through the colony, clipboard in hand.

  Three farm bots repaired—barely. Each fix leaves him frowning at Daevos’ cheap designs.

  In the water recycler bay, he finds frayed wires, burnt circuits, rusted valves. He exhales slowly.

  Mary spots him as she passes.

  “You almost done?”

  Arthur startles, nearly dropping the clipboard.

  “Yeah. Just about.” He grimaces. “It’s not good.”

  “You never finished telling me about your friend,” she says. “All these issues.”

  She wipes her hands on her pants. “Tell me about your friend. Take my mind off all this,” she says, looking around.

  Arthur studies her. For a fleeting moment, he sees Anna—grown.

  “I know.”

  He leans back against the wall, stretching.

  “Temnah was one of the kindest people I ever knew. She went a week without eating so some kids could have our scraps. We were all starving—but not the kids.”

  He wipes his eyes before the tears fall.

  “Marauders came. Killed most of the kids. Most of everyone. I traded my ring for her life. We didn’t have weapons. Barely had anything.”

  Mary stares.

  “I’m sorry. Where was this?”

  Arthur slips—just for a second.

  “Earth,” he says.

  The mistake lands between them.

  Mary’s expression hardens.

  “Earth? Marauders?” She shakes her head. “When, I've never heard of anything like that happening on earth. Its mostly safe there." Confusion breaks the story in her mind. "If you didn’t want to say, you didn’t have to lie.”

  Arthur steps closer.

  “I misspoke. I wouldn’t lie about that.” He searches for footing. “It was Etria Two. Years ago.”

  Her shoulders relax slightly, though hurt remains.

  “I just thought… if you lied about that, maybe you lied about being married. And then I—” She stops herself. “I thought maybe there was another reason you weren’t interested.”

  Arthur’s smile is kind.

  “No. If I weren’t married, I’d be interested.” He meets her eyes. “But I am.”

  She turns away.

  “See you around.”

  “See you around,” Arthur replies.

  ---

  Arthur closes his eyes.

  They open in the Void.

  Sarah sits on the porch swing, Rex curled at her feet.

  “I like her,” Sarah says. “She reminds me of Anna.”

  Arthur nods.

  “Me too. The way she was always independent.”

  He gazes over the golden field.

  “Wanna go for a run? I need to think.”

  “About Byrand?” Sarah asks.

  “And everything falling apart.”

  Their clothes shift to running gear.

  “You sure?” Sarah teases. “You know how hard this is for you.”

  Arthur laughs, already moving.

  “Come on!”

  They run—Arthur talking, Sarah listening.

  Moments later, Arthur bends over, breathless. Sarah jogs in place beside him.

  “It’s all in your head,” she says gently. “You’re not actually running.”

  She sits.

  “Go talk to Byrand.”

  Arthur nods—and vanishes.

  Sarah keeps running.

  ---

  Back in the real world Arthur drops a worn datapad on Byrand’s desk.

  “It’s not good.”

  He reads:

  “Water recycler—old. Might hold if we’re lucky.

  Farm bots—barely operational. Sustainability models not built for this load.

  Wall builder—total loss. Nothing salvageable.

  Defensive weapons—worthless. If pirates show up, we’re finished.

  Food—enough if the bots hold. No guarantees.

  Next dropship—nine months out.”

  Arthur exhales.

  “My recommendations: stabilize the farms fast. Supplement bots with local animals. Finish the wall. Keep rationing. Scrap the bots once we can.”

  Byrand drops his head into his hands.

  “You want me to tell them that?”

  “I want you to tell them the truth,” Arthur says. “They need to know.”

  His voice firms.

  “If everyone works together, we survive.”

  Byrand looks hollow.

  “Half of them already ignore rationing.”

  “He’s in over his head,” Sarah murmurs from the Void.

  Arthur plants his hands on the desk.

  “Then make them listen. Be the leader this place needs—or step aside.”

  Byrand turns away, silent.

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