Back on the Ark, the stars were just lights you could never touch. You and Raven used to sneak into the maintenance bays after curfew—half to avoid getting caught, half to escape the weight of everything pressing down on you.
You’d sit on the metal floor, backs against the wall, tools scattered between you as the hum of the ship filled the silence. Sometimes you’d work. Sometimes you’d just talk. But always, you’d end up staring out through one of the small, scratched viewports into the black.
“Crazy, huh?” Raven had said once, voice soft in the quiet. “We’re floating in the middle of everything—and none of it belongs to us.”
You’d looked at her then, the starlight glinting off her dark eyes. “Maybe one day it will.”
She smiled, that small, hopeful kind that didn’t come often. “You really think we’ll ever see it for real?”
“I have to.” You nudged her shoulder. “If not, what’s the point of dreaming?”
She laughed, low and warm. “You and your optimism.”
That night, you made a pact—to reach the stars, no matter what it took.
But now, standing under the open sky on Earth, that same girl looked up at a different kind of starlight. Real this time. Cold, distant, and breathtaking.
The others were asleep, the campfire low. Raven stood beside the dropship wreck, grease on her hands, her eyes reflecting the heavens.
“You ever think about those nights on the Ark?” you asked quietly, stepping up beside her.
She didn’t look away from the sky. “Every damn day.”
You smiled faintly. “Guess we finally made it.”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Just… not the way we thought.”
The two of you fell into silence—the kind that wasn’t awkward, just heavy with things unspoken. You watched her out of the corner of your eye, the way her face softened in the glow of the stars, and suddenly it hit you how much she’d changed. How much you both had.
“Remember what you said?” she murmured. “About the stars not belonging to us?”
You nodded.
“Well,” she said, turning to meet your gaze, “I think they do now. Because we’re here. Because we survived.”
There was pride in her voice—but something else, too. Something tender.
You reached out, brushing your fingers against hers. “Guess our dreams weren’t so impossible after all.”
Raven smiled, small and real. “You always said we’d make it.”