Two

  years had passed since the Battle of Vega, which marked the beginning

  of the war against the Ka'Zal, but for Lieutenant Commander Steven

  "Pilgrim" Bailey, it felt like an eternity. He sat in the

  dim light of the waiting room at Arcturus Base, his gaze wandering

  boredly around the room. Everything had changed. The short, dark

  beard he now wore was a visible sign of his new reality. A Navy

  commander, yes, but one without a ship and without a mission. The

  military had been his life, but that chapter was now coming to an

  end.

  The

  bare walls of the waiting room, with their scattered posters and

  outdated holograms, radiated none of the glamour that military

  discipline usually brought with it. It was a place of transition, a

  place where soldiers like him – people who had given everything –

  were now supposed to learn to fit into a world without war and

  combat.

  Pilgrim

  looked at his HoloSync display and sighed. Ten minutes to go until

  his appointment with the Veterans Affairs office. Today he would talk

  about what civilian life might look like for him. The uncertainty

  gnawed at him. What did you do when what you lived for was suddenly

  over? He had plans, yes, but were they still right for him now,

  without Firefox?

  He

  leaned back in the hard chair, closed his eyes for a moment, and let

  his thoughts wander. Memories of the Battle of Vega came flooding

  back. The flickering explosions, the deafening roar of the engines,

  the losses. Kayleigh's death... A sharp pain shot through his chest.

  He didn't want to think about it, but the memories were like shards

  that couldn't be cleared away.

  The

  door opened and soft footsteps broke the silence of the room. Pilgrim

  raised his head, his eyes resting on a small but energetic-looking

  young woman who entered the room with confident composure. Her

  uniform revealed that she was also in the Navy, wearing the rank

  insignia of a first lieutenant. She had short black hair and an

  expression that radiated self-confidence and a certain

  nonconformity—a look that always seemed to know what was going on

  around her.

  She

  let herself fall into a chair next to him with a slight sigh. Without

  looking directly at him, she said with an ironic smile, "Busy

  day today, huh?"

  Pilgrim

  raised his eyebrows slightly, surprised by the sudden address. "You

  could say that," he replied cautiously. He looked her over

  briefly, but her face told him nothing. "Here for a dismissal

  interview too?"

  "Yeah,

  something like that," she said with a shrug. Then she turned

  slightly toward him. "You seem to have been here a long time.

  The way you're sitting there—relaxed and yet somehow lost in

  thought. Are you waiting for good news or the end of an era?"

  "Maybe

  both," he replied thoughtfully, trying to piece together the

  fragments of his memory.

  The

  woman let her gaze wander over his face as if searching for an answer

  in his features. Finally, she raised an eyebrow and grinned. "A

  full beard, huh? Suits you. Much more personality than the standard

  soldier look."

  Pilgrim

  nodded, slightly irritated, an incredulous smile on his lips.

  "Sometimes you need a change."

  A

  brief silence spread between them before she spoke again. "I've

  been in a similar situation before, you know," she began, her

  voice becoming serious for a moment. "After a mission that went

  completely wrong. It was quite a shock when I realized that I had

  survived, but I wasn't

  the

  same anymore."

  He

  opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, she held out

  her hand. "Valeria Romanov. Most people call me Valkyrie."

  Pilgrim

  nodded, the confirmation of her identity echoing quietly within him.

  "Steven Bailey, callsign Pilgrim."

  "Pilgrim,"

  she repeated, "you know, we've met before."

  Pilgrim

  frowned. "Oh, really?" His voice sounded cool, almost

  dismissive. He couldn't remember her.

  "Yes,"

  Valeria replied, leaning back. "In the Vega system, the big

  battle. You were... not quite conscious when we brought you on board.

  I was the pilot of the rescue ship that picked you up after you

  crashed from the planet."

  Pilgrim

  froze for a moment, the memory of Vega hurting deep inside him. The

  Ka'Zal. Kay's death. Everything he had lost came flooding back in a

  flood of images. The coolness in his voice became

  more

  palpable. "Oh, the pilot," he muttered tonelessly, the pain

  of his memory pushing him to distance himself.

  Valeria

  sensed the sudden change in his demeanor. Her previously relaxed

  attitude became more serious, but she did not let herself be

  discouraged.

  "Yes,

  I know. It was probably a damn hard time for all of us."

  Pilgrim

  was silent for a moment, then let the air escape sharply through his

  teeth and shook his head slightly. "It's... difficult to

  remember what came after that," he finally said quietly. But

  then, almost reluctantly, he relaxed a little. "But... thank

  you.

  For

  getting me out of there."

  Valeria

  smiled as she noticed his demeanor softening.

  "No

  problem. I was just doing my job."

  The

  ice between them had been broken. Pilgrim leaned back slightly, the

  weight of the memory no longer weighing so heavily on

  his

  shoulders. "How have you been since then?" he asked, his

  voice now friendlier.

  Valeria

  shrugged and smiled slightly. "Pretty good. Still in the

  military, but now in a different field. The routine is slowly setting

  in, you know? But that's how it is now that we've beaten back the

  Ka'Zal."

  "Yeah,"

  Pilgrim murmured, "sometimes it takes a while for everything to

  settle down."

  "And

  you?" Valeria looked at him intently. "How are things with

  you?"

  "I'm

  about to leave the military," Pilgrim replied calmly. "After

  all this... it's time to move on."

  Valeria

  nodded as if she understood perfectly. "Life after that—it can

  be challenging."

  Pilgrim

  smiled weakly. "Yes, I think it will."

  Before

  the conversation could continue, a voice came over the loudspeaker:

  "Lieutenant Commander Bailey, please report to Room 3."

  Pilgrim

  stood up, nodded to Valeria, and smiled slightly. "Maybe we'll

  see each other again."

  "That

  would be nice," she replied with a mischievous grin as she too

  was called. "First Lieutenant Romanov, to room 4, please."

  With a brief nod to each other, they went to their respective

  appointments.

  appointments.

  *

  * *

  In

  the counselor's office, a small, pleasantly furnished room, Pilgrim

  sat on a simple chair across from a civilian man in his 50s who

  smiled at him noncommittally. The counselor leafed through some

  documents on his desk and then looked up at Pilgrim.

  "Lieutenant

  Commander Bailey, nice to meet you. I hope you've had a pleasant time

  here so far."

  "Thank

  you, I'm making the best of it," Pilgrim replied, his voice

  neutral, but he was tense inside. He knew this was an important step.

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  "Good,

  good. Let's get right to it. There are several opportunities for your

  future in civilian life that could make use of your skills as a

  pilot," the advisor began, leafing through his documents.

  "For

  example, we have a job as a pilot of a Goliath C-class freighter. You

  would transport important cargo and have full control over route

  planning. It could be a fairly quiet job."

  Pilgrim

  shook his head. "That sounds like torture to me.

  I

  might as well stay on a planet the whole time, sitting on the beach

  and watching the dunes shift. Too boring."

  The

  advisor nodded sympathetically and made a note on his tablet. "All

  right. How about something more exciting? A job with a civilian

  security company. You'd fly a Dagger, which is designed for security

  operations. Your flying skills would be really useful there and

  certainly very welcome."

  Pilgrim

  thought for a moment. "If I want that, I might as well stay in

  the Navy. I have more responsibility and more action there."

  "That's

  a good point," the advisor conceded, taking notes again. "There

  are a few other options we could explore. It might be worth

  considering the various possibilities."

  "I'm

  ready for something that challenges me," Pilgrim replied, his

  gaze steady. "I don't want to fall into a routine. I need

  something that gives me the freedom to make decisions."

  The

  consultant looked at him, his brow slightly furrowed as he considered

  the next options.

  The

  consultant leaned forward slightly and looked at Pilgrim seriously.

  "Well,

  Commander, it seems we don't have the ideal career opportunity for

  you. Therefore, I would like to offer you the opportunity to receive

  your severance pay. You can choose between a large sum of money or an

  E7C Eagle. This is the civilian version of the E7A Eagle, which you

  know quite well. These ships are often given to former fighter pilots

  so that they can organize themselves into civilian militias and

  strengthen the defense against the enemies of the Empire."

  Pilgrim

  thought for a moment as he studied the advisor. The idea of flying an

  E7C Eagle had its appeal. He could enjoy the freedom to decide where

  he flew and regain the sense of independence that had often been

  taken from him in the Navy.

  "I..."

  Pilgrim began, his thoughts racing, "I think I'll choose the

  E7C. It gives me more freedom of movement and the opportunity to fly

  again."

  The

  advisor nodded with satisfaction. "A wise choice. I'll take care

  of the formalities. The ship will be available to you in a few days.

  I think you'll love flying it."

  Pilgrim

  felt relieved. The thought of the E7C and what it might

  bring—adventure, new challenges, perhaps even the opportunity to

  join a militia—gave him a small spark of hope.

  "Thank

  you for your support," he said finally, the smile that stole

  across his face a genuine sign of his anticipation.

  "It

  was my pleasure, Lieutenant Commander. We know that pilots like you

  can make a valuable contribution, no matter where you are. I wish you

  every success in your new path."

  *

  * *

  Valeria

  "Valkyrie" Romanov entered the office of her advisor, a

  visibly

  pregnant young woman who was staring intently at a screen as she sat

  at her desk. The walls of the room were decorated with pictures of

  spaceships and successful missions, and Val immediately felt welcome.

  "Lieutenant

  Romanov, it's good to see you! How are you today?"

  "Fine,

  thank you! It feels great to be here," Valeria replied with

  exaggerated optimism and sat down. "I had so much fun in

  Squadron 323, but now it's time for something different."

  The

  counselor nodded and leafed through Valeria's file. "Your career

  really took off after the Battle of Vega. Your talents were pretty

  much wasted in medical service. I'm glad to hear that you were able

  to test the captured Ka'Zal fighters, such as the Fang and the Razor,

  after that."

  "And

  the Talon! The ship is simply incredible. The training fights against

  the UEH Navy did me a world of good. Finally, I was able to do what I

  do best again."

  "It's

  nice to hear that you felt comfortable there. And I heard that your

  little undisciplined escapades in the training battles were even

  welcome?"

  Val

  grinned. "Yes, that's right! It reminded them of the aggressive

  flying style of the Ka'Zal. I think they appreciated my

  unpredictability, although I'm not sure whether I should take it as a

  compliment or an insult that my flying style is compared to that of

  the Ka'Zal."

  "Definitely

  a compliment!" replied the advisor with a smile. "And what

  about the secret missions for military intelligence?"

  "I

  can't talk about that," Valeria replied coolly, her expression

  turning serious. "But yes, I was involved. It was exciting, but

  also challenging."

  The

  advisor nodded understandingly. "I understand. It's important to

  protect that kind of information."

  Valeria

  felt encouraged. "I want to continue flying and expand my

  skills, but without the military restrictions. I can't get stuck in a

  routine."

  "That's

  the right spirit, Valeria. Let's see how we can plan your next steps.

  There are some interesting opportunities for experienced pilots like

  you."

  The

  advisor smiled and put away her tablet. "Valeria, since you've

  been so successful, I'd also like to offer you a severance package—a

  fighter. That should help you further your career."

  Valeria's

  eyes lit up. "That sounds great! Could I get a Ka'Zal ship? I

  loved flying those ships."

  The

  consultant shook her head regretfully. "I'm sorry, but the

  Ka'Zal ships are not available and will remain with the military.

  They are not to fall into the hands of civilians. That would be far

  too risky."

  A

  brief frown showed Valeria's disappointment, but her curiosity was

  piqued. "What's the alternative offer, then?"

  "We

  could offer you an E7C Eagle from Pioneer Systems. An excellent ship

  that you're sure to enjoy."

  "An

  Eagle? That sounds great! I'll take it!" Valeria's enthusiasm

  returned immediately.

  "I'm

  glad you like the offer," replied the consultant with a smile.

  "But

  why an E7C? Isn't the model called E7A?" Valeria asked,

  frowning.

  "The

  E7C Eagle is a civilian version of the E7A, with the same technology

  but slightly reduced weaponry. It's actually intended for former

  lieutenant commanders, and you're only a first lieutenant, but due to

  the missions you've completed for the secret service, an exception

  will be made in your case."

  "Well,

  if that's the case... then I'll take the C," replied

  Valeria.

  "You've

  still made a great choice."

  Valeria

  nodded, satisfied with her decision. "That's fine. I'm looking

  forward to flying the Eagle."

  *

  * *

  The

  advisor looked at Pilgrim seriously. "Commander, I have more or

  less good news for you. You are the sole heir of Lieutenant Commander

  Kayleigh McTaggart. That means you are entitled to a considerable sum

  of money."

  At

  that moment, Pilgrim was overcome by a flash of memory that

  transported him back to another time.

  He

  found himself in a cozy room with soft light filtering through the

  curtains. He and Kayleigh were lying relaxed in bed, surrounded by an

  atmosphere of lightheartedness and anticipation.

  "Imagine,

  Pilgrim," Kayleigh said with a smile, "after our term of

  service, we could get a bigger ship! One for several crew members. We

  could work as freelancers and take on all these great and well-paid

  jobs!"

  "I

  completely agree," he replied as he cuddled up to her. "What

  do you have in mind?"

  "How

  about a Vanguard from Orion Dynamics? It's sturdy and versatile!"

  "A

  Vanguard?" Pilgrim frowned. "I'd rather have an Orion

  Hermes. It's faster and has more space. And you know how much space I

  need for all my stuff."

  Kayleigh

  laughed. "Stuff? You mean all your toys? I swear, you have more

  model ships than a little boy!"

  "Hey,

  I'm a collector!" Pilgrim defended himself with a grin.

  "Besides, if you have more space, you can store all your clothes

  .

  How many jackets do you need for one mission?"

  Kayleigh

  shook her head, laughing. "I'm practical! And I need them all.

  What if we have a gala evening on a space station?"

  "Oh,

  please! Gala evenings? If I had a 987 Luxury, you'd have to buy me a

  new wardrobe to go with it!"

  Kayleigh

  closed her eyes and sighed dramatically. "Ugh, I can hardly bear

  it! The thought of seeing you in a suit! I MUST record a holovideo of

  that! ... What about a 654 Indra from ESI?" she suggested

  jokingly.

  Pilgrim's

  eyes widened in horror. "ESI? That sterile design?

  No,

  I could never fly that!"

  Kayleigh

  burst out laughing. "Relax, I was just kidding! You know I don't

  really like ESI ships."

  "Good

  call! We'd just attract pirates. And I swear, if you spend even a

  second in one of those ships, I'll drop you off on the nearest

  planet!"

  "Look,

  you would never give up on me! I'm your best crew!"

  "That's

  true. And you're the only one who can put up with my chaos. But only

  because you know I'll always fly with you!"

  Together,

  they began to make fun of the dazzling designs of the ESI ships. As

  they laughed and joked, they couldn't agree on a specific ship type,

  but that didn't matter at that moment. The future seemed limitless,

  and they were ready to shape it together.

  The

  memory faded, and Pilgrim was back in the counselor's office. A

  fleeting smile crossed his face, followed by a hint of sadness. It

  was a bittersweet look back at what could have been.

  Pilgrim

  looked his advisor in the eye and nodded resolutely.

  "I

  accept the legacy of Commander Kayleigh McTaggart." A feeling of

  heaviness and freedom at the same time came over him. With one last

  look at the documents and the memories they evoked, he got up and

  left the office.

  *

  * *

  Outside

  in the hallway, he felt the cool breeze of the base gently envelop

  him. He took a deep breath as his thoughts revolved around the legacy

  he would now carry.

  At

  that moment, Valeria stepped out of her advisor's office and noticed

  him. A smile spread across her face. "Hey, Pilgrim!"

  He

  turned and looked at her. "Hey, Valkyrie."

  "How

  about a drink? I think we should celebrate our discharge from

  military service!"

  He

  looked at her in surprise. "A drink? That sounds like a great

  idea."

  "Come

  with me! I know a great bar nearby!"

  Pilgrim

  hesitated briefly, but the thought of an evening in company, where he

  could leave his thoughts of the past behind for a moment, was

  tempting. "All right, why not? A drink sounds good."

  Valeria's

  eyes sparkled with joy. "Perfect! Let's go, otherwise they'll

  think we don't want to become civilians and sign up for another term

  of service!"

  As

  they walked down the hallway together, Pilgrim felt the weight on his

  shoulders lift a little. Maybe this was the beginning of something

  new—a friendship that could support him during this transition

  period.