It was funny, almost. He spent so much time on the Tulpar longing for Earth, and now here he was staring at the sky and longing for the stars. He missed the Tulpar's humming engines, the smell of its metal walls, the echo of the stairs underfoot, the sound of the cockpit's door sliding open.

He stepped away from the window, retreating back into the shadows of his apartment and returning to his computer desk to check his email for the hundreth time. How long was Pony Express going to take to finish their investigation? He only had a couple more weeks of paid vacation time to use for income. After that, then what? Was he supposed to find a mundane job until Pony Express wrapped things up and gave him his promised referrals? Yeah, that totally wasn't going to raise eyebrows, a deep-space freighter captain applying to hardware stores and warehouse jobs.

Goddamn, if he was faring this badly, how the hell was Anya doing? He hadn't called in a while. He should probably check up on her. Was her new city treating her well? He wished he had anything to offer her other than a reference on a job application.

He let out a heavy sigh and scrubbed his face with both hands. This was a nightmare. One of his own negligent, blind-eyed creation.