Chapter 21 #3
Her rant hung between them, and Celise finally seemed to realize Torian wasn’t joking. The pestering attitude slid away, replaced with something unreadable. Celise pushed from the table, glanced at the rotating hologram, then ran a hand through her messy blond hair.
“Come on, Torian. This is ridiculous.”
“And true,” Torian said firmly.
“A space station we’ve never found? A planet no one’s documented?”
“We know the aliens have technology we can’t hope to replicate—like their energy barriers,” Torian snapped, her skin prickling.
“The nylarians are longer-lived than most of the other species, and given Moss, they clearly prided themselves on that technology. I’m sure they shielded their home with the nebula to protect it. ”
“Or, your ship’s air isn’t as clean as you think, and you’ve spent the last few days hallucinating.” All humor was gone. She was actually being serious.
That hurt the most. For the Heavens’ sake, Amelia had been willing to believe this, but Torian’s own damned sister couldn’t? Torian knew she’d have to prove some of these claims, but she expected Celise to suspend disbelief for thirty fucking minutes while they walked to the Destitute.
Torian physically stepped back, letting cold irritation settle between them. “I’ve done all this for you, Celise.”
“I didn’t ask for that,” Celise muttered.
“You didn’t have to.” Torian felt her heart breaking, her fists clenching.
Silence settled between them, the tension as sharp as a knife. After a moment, Celise massaged her brow. “Even if what you’re saying is true, I told you. I can’t leave my clinic … especially not for some mythical space station.”
That still stung.
Torian’s voice was cold. “I told you what I was working on. Finding us a new home. You said you’d consider it.”
“You told me we were going to Rhymarra. A populated planet with medical advances, scientific research, and other humans.”
It physically hurt to know she couldn’t offer Celise that.
To keep from feeling utterly inadequate, a total failure, Torian tried again.
“This place doesn’t have people yet, but that’s our next step.
By the time we’re done, it’ll be a new colony—one we’ve helped shape.
And you’ll be alive to see it. So … are you coming with me, or not? ”
Celise was quiet for a long while. When she finally spoke, it was with notable bitterness. “My condition won’t magically improve with a few breaths of clean air, Tor. There’s inflammation now, mucus buildup. The body holds scars.”
“Maybe, but the attacks will lessen. You’ll know immediately if it’s easier to breathe. You’ll know if there’s hope, even if it’s not an instant fix.”
Celise pressed her lips together, scrutinizing Torian’s gaze. Her tone softened. “What if it doesn’t work? What if we go to this alien space station, all the way from everything and everyone I know, and … and I die anyway?”
That’s when Torian realized the truth.
Her sister was actually, truly scared.
Celise hid behind sarcasm and dry humor, so Torian didn’t see it often …
but now it physically made Torian ache. This wasn’t about Torian’s failure—it was about Celise confronting something she thought was inevitable.
It was about a terminal patient, finding comfort in the things she knew.
Maybe Celise was longing for the stars, for a magic fix—but that hadn’t been her reality so far.
Without thinking, Torian wrapped her arms around Celise’s shoulders, pulling her into a fierce hug. “I know it’s scary. And maybe it doesn’t work. But you will never be alone; I’ll be there no matter what. Okay?”
Tears rimmed Celise’s eyes, something Torian hadn’t seen in years. Celise’s shoulders trembled, but she drew a shallow breath and forced a smile. “Okay. You can show me this space station. I’m not making a decision yet, but … I’ll go see it.”
Relief hit Torian like a brick. One huge step in the right direction. “Thank you.”
“How long will I need to take off work?” Celise wiped the remnant tears, back to business. “The Kialoa Nebula is at least a six-day flight. That might be too long—”
“We’ll make the flight in about eight hours via wormhole.”
Celise stared.
Torian stared back, jaw set.
“You’re really holding on to this hallucination, huh.”
“I really am.”
Celise chuckled, and Torian laughed, and then they were both grinning like idiots in the kitchen.
Celise pushed to her feet, dusting off her pants.
She retrieved her holopad, examining Torian’s drawing.
After a moment, she nodded, turning off the screen.
“Give me a few hours to pack and call the clinic up on fourteenth. They’ll have to handle my patients while I’m gone. ”
“Perfect.” Torian downed what was left of her water and set the glass in the sink. “Meet me at hangar eighty-two, bay fifteen.”
Celise nodded. “This better not be an elaborate prank.”
“That’d be a badass prank.”
“Badass is one word.”
Torian squeezed her sister’s shoulder and took one look around their family apartment, and smiled slightly. Leaving this place, Colony 13, was bittersweet—but walls and floors didn’t make a home.
Family did.
When Celise arrived on the Destitute, everything would be perfect.