“Everything reminds me of her.” Tessa closed her eyes, shook her head. Beside her, Imalda looked on, gaze flat, almost sympathetic. The Officer’s lounge hung quiet around them, conversation lingering at a low buzz. Only a few other pilots clustered in groups, sat at tables conversing in quiet tones– a few studied silicon notepads in corners, sipped lethargically at steaming mugs. Mac took another swig of his whiskey, breathed a satisfied sigh.

“I had a feelin’ you was one of them girls that swings the other way.” He drawled, slurring words. “You and that Iz... Jes’ seemed too good to be true.”

“She’s not a lesbian, Mac.” Imalda picked up her own drink, some bland, steel colored mix that had the alcohol content of a light beer, and glanced at Tessa, took a sip. “She’s normal, just like you or me.”

“N’see here!” He breathed. “I t’aint never touched a man in such a way, Imalda. T’aint holy, t’aint natural.”

“Traditionalist.” She shot back.

“Dyke.” He breathed.

“Smile when you say that.” She grinned, set down her drink. “I’ve been with plenty of guys in my life. Normal people don’t have a preference.” She looked over at Tessa again. “You love who you love. Only your heart can tell you who that is.”

Mac took another swig of his whiskey, grumbled something unintelligible. Imalda’s eyebrows rose briefly, dismissively as she raised her glass, sipped at it. Beside her, Tessa’s eyes sunk to the tabletop, drifted listlessly across patterned steel.

“Maybe you should leave.” Imalda suggested suddenly. Tessa looked up slowly, found Imalda’s eyes staring back at her, as comforting and kind as iron could be. The old mercenary shifted in her seat, set her glass down to regard Tessa thoughtfully.

“I mean,” She began, folding her arms in the pause, “if everything here reminds you of her, then maybe you should try a change of scenery.”

“Where would I go?” Tessa managed, looking away. “I’m Navy, I’m on contract. I can’t just...” She gestured. “Go work somewhere else, retire, something...”

“You could go to another ship.” Came Imalda’s level response. Tessa looked up again, studied her eyes for an instant.

“I’m not cut out to be a mercenary, Imalda.”

“Everybody with a gun or a rig is cut out to be a mercenary.” The older woman leaned back, regarded Tessa cooly. “But that’s not what I meant. I mean a transfer.” She gestured. “Why don’t you request a transfer to another ship, somewhere not on the front lines?”

“I’d kill myself if they stuck me in a desk.” Tessa said flatly. “I joined the Navy so I could fly.”

“No, you joined it for the money and the chance at saving the Commonwealth from the biggest threat we’ve faced since the GMOs started to rise up and demand citizenship.” She shook her head. “Am I right?”

Tessa squeezed her eyes against the remark, the pain, the anger it spurred within her. She doesn’t mean it that way. If she knew... She bit her lip, opened her eyes again, breathed a tired sigh. If she knew, I wouldn’t be here. Lips parted on reluctant words. “It’s not the money.”

“Then why the Navy?” Imalda shot back. “Any civilian with the right training can get a flying job.”

Because GMOs like me are barred from serving with the Armed Forces. Came the silent retort. Tessa bit her lip, swallowed. “I have my reasons.”

“Don’t we all.” Imalda looked away, took another sip of her drink. “Don’t we all.”

In the pause, Tessa’s eyes dropped again to the table, mind losing itself in the stirrings of thought. Her reasons for joining the Navy were many and varied, but the one that rose above all the others, towered over every other justification she had given her government-fearing grandmother on her way to catch the first shuttle out to Earth for basic training had been an ethical one. It isn’t right that people with Genetically Modified Organisms in their ancestry are barred from serving their Commonwealth. She’d said. Someday, the legislation will change. People like you and me and mom will be seen as human beings, but in the interim, in the here and now, people like us need to step up and prove that we’re as human as anyone else, that we’re not drones, not robots or animals. For now, that means a lot of faking, lying, forging and pretending, but it doesn’t matter. It’ll all be worth it in the end, and thousands, if not millions of people affected by the unfair laws of a more conservative time will ultimately benefit from it. Suddenly, she was keenly aware of the weight of the little figurine wrapped in fabric as it lay on her lap. St. Von Mitternacht, patron saint of the Genetically Modified, saint who had slipped through the cracks of a more galactic interpretation of Catholicism.

How fitting. How very fitting.

“How about that guy you were talking with earlier?” Imalda said suddenly. “The one who gave you the package?” She pointed over crossed arms.

“Dimitrov.” Tessa looked down, rested one hand on the red fabric, eyes searching the creases and folds absently before she looked up again, met Imalda’s level gaze. “He’s... a friend.”

“Just a friend? That’s too bad.” The old Mercenary grinned, took another sip of her drink. “He was pretty cute. What ship does he serve on? Maybe you could transfer there, get to know him a little better.”

“His ship is the Wu Ang Hok.” Tessa looked away again. “It’s front line, just like the Von.” Not to mention so badly damaged that we have to tow it back to TRS-88 because it can’t even travel under its own power anymore. “And Dimitrov... well...”

“Reminds you too much of Izzy?” Imalda asked suddenly.

Tessa closed her eyes, breathed a tired, hurt sigh, shook her head. “It’s not that, it’s just... he’s a traditionalist.” She looked up, met the Grand Marshall’s eyes again. “Besides, I– I couldn’t just transfer on the hope that I might find someone to take Izzy’s place in my heart or... or anything like that.” She shook her head again. “It...”

“Look, I’m just talking here.” The older woman said suddenly. “I’m just saying that change would do you good, that’s all.” She gestured, offered the traces of a smile. “Think about it, consider your options, and maybe even put in for a transfer, if you’re feeling adventurous.” She made another gesture, shrugged as she turned back to her drink. “The Navy is a lot bigger than just one ship, Eisenherz. There are a lot of places that a hotshot pilot like you can fit in.”

“I know.” Tessa looked down again. “It’s just, the Von is like a second home to me. The people here... they’re like family.”

“But everything here reminds you of Izzy.” Imalda said flatly.

Tessa closed her eyes again. “Yeah.” Only Mac saw Imalda’s eyebrows rise again, watching as she took another sip of the steely liquid. In her mind, Tessa knew that the other woman was right, that change would do her good, but the thought of leaving the Von, of leaving the sense of family that had sprung up in her time aboard ship was not something easily dismissed. She sighed again, buried her face in her hands. Something had to change. Something in her life had to be new, fresh– not haunted by the pastel traces of memories that rang with the sound and scent of Izzy.

Something has to change.

Something.