death... that's what happened. You died. It was an ordinary, dare i say boring mission, until it wasn't. You were a hero. You and your crew had ended the galactic war. You were celebrated throughout known space. You were... invincible... until you weren't. And you convulsed there, flying through space, desperately trying to breathe you didn't look heroic or grand or important in any way. You were just another victim, killed by common pirates, flying through the Vakuum afraid and helpless, pathetic. But it wasn't the end. Because one off your crew couldn't let go. Lena had always loved you, apparently enough to defy death itself. She had built a machine to revive you, and the first thing you saw as the darkness subsidied was her loving face.