Three steps to the wall, turn, three steps back. Luca paced his cabin, the space feeling impossibly small, the walls pressing in on him with every circuit.

  Her eggs are all damaged.

  Joey's words echoed in his skull, over and over, a broken record of devastation. The ship hummed around him, life support cycling, artificial gravity holding him down while his world tilted sideways.

  Tomorrow, Joey would operate on Danny. Pull shrapnel from his legs, piece him back together. And after that, he'd tell Emily. Sit her down in the medical bay and deliver the news that would shatter her world.

  She'll never be able to conceive.

  Luca stopped pacing. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

  He couldn't do it. Couldn't sit through dinner tomorrow, smile at her jokes, pretend everything was normal while carrying this secret like a knife in his chest. Every second that passed felt like a lie. Every moment she didn't know felt like a betrayal.

  I have to tell her.

  The thought hit him with crystal clarity. Joey might be the doctor, might have protocol on his side, but Luca was her partner. If she was going to face this nightmare, she shouldn't face it alone. He should be there from the beginning, holding her, helping her process the impossible.

  The walk to her cabin felt endless, each step heavier than the last. Each step felt heavier than the last. He rehearsed words in his head, searching for the right way to say the unspeakable. Em, I need to tell you something. Joey found something in your scans. The radiation...

  None of it sounded right. How did you break that kind of news?

  His heart hammered against his ribs as he reached her door. This was one of the hardest things he'd ever have to do. But she deserved to hear it from him, deserved to have someone who loved her there when her world collapsed.

  At least I'll have her, he thought desperately. Children or no children, at least I'll have her.

  He knocked softly.

  A pause. Then her voice, quiet and strained. "Come in."

  The cabin was dim, just the soft glow of nighttime lighting. Emily sat on her bunk, datapad in her lap but not reading it. She looked up at him, and there was no surprise in her eyes. Just a deep, bone-weary sadness that made his chest tight.

  She sat perfectly still, hands folded tight in her lap. Her eyes were red-rimmed and hollow. She had been crying.

  "Em..." His voice came out clumsy, thick with emotion. "I just came from the med bay. Joey told me about... your decontamination report."

  She just looked at him for a long moment. "I know."

  Luca froze. "You... you know?"

  "I've known for about an hour." She tapped the datapad absently. "I'm the XO, Luca. I have access to all mission-critical logs, including preliminary medical reports. When Joey called you down there, I knew something must be wrong. I saw the flag on my file and read the diagnostic myself." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I was just... trying to figure out how to tell you."

  The air went out of him. All his prepared words, his role as the bearer of terrible news, everything evaporated. He stood there looking at a woman who'd been processing world-shattering information completely alone.

  The guilt shifted, transforming from the secret he was keeping to the lonely burden she had been carrying.

  "He told me first," Luca said, the words tasting like ash. "As captain. He shouldn't have."

  "No," she agreed, voice still quiet. "He shouldn't have. Joey's a good doctor, but he's a fucking idiot sometimes."

  A laugh escaped him, short and bitter but real. Luca sat beside her on the bunk and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. This wasn't about the shock of discovery anymore. It was about the quiet, devastating reality they now had to face together.

  "How are you..." He started, then stopped. How are you handling this? seemed like a stupid question.

  "Processing," she said simply. "The radiation exposure was worse than we thought. Damage to my reproductive system." She gestured vaguely. "Everything that matters for having kids."

  Luca's throat was tight. "There has to be something. Medical tech, nanite repair, System healing abilities..."

  "Maybe." Emily's voice was steady, but tired. "Joey thinks the damage is too extensive, but..." She shrugged. "We're dealing with TL9 tech now. Things that were science fiction when we were kids. I don't know what's possible anymore."

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  "Em, I'm so sorry. I should have been more careful. We knew Proxima was a very active star, we should have taken more precautions. Should have monitored radiation exposure better, kept the ship shielded all the way through..."

  "Stop." Her voice was sharp. "This isn't your fault. We all made choices, we all had responsibilities. We all took risks." She looked at him directly. "And we all knew the job was dangerous when we signed up."

  They sat in silence for a moment. The weight of it pressing down between them.

  "Are you okay?" Luca asked finally. "I mean, physically. Do you feel sick or...?"

  "I'm fine," she said. "Tired. Sad. But not sick." She managed a small smile. "The irony is, I feel completely normal. If Joey hadn't run those scans, I never would have known."

  "There has to be something," Luca said, desperation creeping into his voice. "Some way to fix this, to repair the damage, to..."

  Emily reached up and cupped his face with both hands, stopping his train of thought. Her eyes held his, green with those golden specks that caught the dim lighting.

  "Luca," she said softly. "Stop spiraling. You're doing that thing where you try to solve everything at once."

  Despite everything, he felt his mouth twitch. "I don't spiral."

  "You absolutely spiral." A genuine smile broke across her face, the first real one he'd seen since entering her cabin. "Remember during the UER attack? When those shuttles were gaining on us and you started that whole 'Captain's log, today I became a killer' thing? I had to snap you out of it."

  "That was different," Luca protested, but he was smiling now too.

  "That was exactly the same." She brushed her thumb across his cheek. "My brilliant, overthinking captain."

  The laugh that escaped him was surprised, real. Some of the crushing weight in his chest lifted. Here they were, facing the worst news of their lives, and she was still teasing him about his problem-solving neuroses.

  "I love you," he said simply.

  "I love you too." Her voice was soft, but her eyes were fierce. "And right now, that's all I need to think about."

  She kissed him then, slow and deep, her hands sliding from his face to tangle in his hair. The datapad slipped from the bed, hitting the floor with a soft thud that neither of them noticed. When she pulled back, her breathing was unsteady.

  "Luca," she whispered, her forehead resting against his. "I need you tonight. Not to fix anything or solve anything. Just... I need you."

  "I'm here," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

  For a moment, they simply looked at each other. The weight of everything they'd been through, everything they'd lost, everything they still had, hung in the air between them. Emily's breathing was shallow, her eyes searching his face as if memorizing every detail.

  Then she reached for him.

  Her smile was radiant, even in the dim light. The golden specks in her green eyes seemed to glow as she pulled him down to her, and the cabin's lights dimmed to their sleep setting. Through the viewport, the sickly green-yellow glow of Midnight Veil crept into the cabin, casting everything in an otherworldly light that reminded them they were still orbiting that toxic hellscape.

  In that moment, with her breath against his lips and her body pressed close, the toxic hellscape outside, the dying friend in the med bay, the stolen future... all of it faded away. There was only this. Only her. And as her fingers worked at the zipper of his suit, he knew that even that alien light couldn't touch what they had.

  Luca woke to the soft cadence of Emily's breathing against his chest. Her blonde hair was spread across his skin, tickling slightly with each exhale. The ship's morning cycle had begun, gentle lighting gradually replacing the dim emergency illumination. Through the viewport, Midnight Veil still cast its sickly glow, but it seemed less oppressive now.

  He ran his fingers through her hair, marveling at how soft it was. Emily stirred at his touch, pressing closer against him.

  "Morning," she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.

  "Morning." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "How are you feeling?"

  She was quiet for a moment, considering. "Better. Lighter, somehow." She tilted her head to look up at him. "Last night helped."

  "Good." He continued stroking her hair. "Em... I've been thinking."

  "Dangerous habit," she teased, but her eyes were serious.

  "About us. About the future." He took a breath. "This whole... kid thing. I want you to know it doesn't change anything. For me. For us."

  How is she even real? The thought hit him with startling clarity. After everything that's happened, everything that's been taken from her, she's still here.

  She was quiet for a moment, just looking at him. "You're sure?"

  "I'm sure," he said simply. "The future I want? It's you. That's the whole plan. The rest is just details we'll figure out."

  A slow, brilliant smile spread across her face. "So what you're saying is, I'm stuck with you, Rossi?"

  Heat crept up his neck. "That's the general idea, yeah." He grinned. "Figured I should lock this down before you realize you can do way better."

  "I love you," she said simply. "And yes, by the way. Whenever you want to make it official."

  "Really?"

  "Really." Her expression grew more serious. "And Luca? We'll find a way around this. The fertility thing. I know we will."

  "You sound so sure."

  "I am sure." She traced patterns on his chest with her finger. "Four years ago, the System didn't exist. Faster-than-light travel was science fiction. Regrowing limbs was impossible. Now look where we are." She looked up at him with fierce determination. "This is just another obstacle. We'll overcome it."

  The confidence in her voice, the way she said "we" like it was the most natural thing in the world, made his chest tight. I don't deserve her, he thought. But I'm sure as hell not letting her go.

  Her confidence was infectious. "We will," he agreed.

  She smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. "But first... we need to go be there for Joey."

  The reminder of Danny's surgery hit him. Their friend was fighting for his life while they'd been wrapped up in their own crisis.

  "Shit," Luca muttered. "What time is it?"

  Emily checked her watch. "0630. Surgery's at 0800."

  Luca took Emily's hand as they headed to the mess hall. Chris sat hunched over his coffee, still favoring his injured side. Zoe had Pixel on her lap again, the kitten providing what little comfort he could. Ryan looked like he hadn't slept at all.

  "Morning," Emily said softly, her hand still in Luca's.

  They ate breakfast in a silence broken only by the scrape of forks against plates. No one met anyone else's eyes. Ryan pushed his food around his plate, uneaten. Zoe stared into her mug, Pixel curled asleep on her lap.

  When Joey finally appeared, looking haggard but determined, they all stood as one.

  "Ready?" he asked simply.