An encrypted data packet hit Holland’s personal terminal—a direct line from the IRIS Commission. She wasn’t expecting anything urgent, especially not from them. The Expedition Commission didn’t usually reach out to station engineers directly; all requests came through official channels. But this one was addressed to her personally. It bore Adrian Brown’s digital signature. Victoria sat on the edge of her bed, knees hugged tight to her chest. The bedroom light was dim, the window showing only the dead glow of a distant star and the faint halo of the station’s shields. The air felt too thick, hard to breathe. On the console screen, the list still lingered. Her name glowed like a brand.

  "What the…" she muttered, starting the decryption.

  The data spilled into her terminal. A list of candidates for the main expedition team through Erebus. And there was her name—right under Brown’s, in the "key energy systems specialists" section. Next to it, a brief but thorough note: "Victoria Holland—chief mission engineer, personal recommendation of the scientific sector lead, Dr. Brown."

  Her hand dropped slowly to the table. Her fingers shook. She reread the line again and again, but the meaning didn’t shift. They’d picked her. Already. No interviews, no competitions. Just a done deal. And it wasn’t random—Brown had put her there himself.

  Her heart pounded in her throat. A hot wave rushed to her face, slid down her neck. Brown. Her father’s friend. The man who’d known her since she was a kid. The man she trusted—as a scientist, as a mentor. He knew this was her dream. And he’d done this for her. Without asking, without warning.

  Victoria clenched her fists, a lump rising in her chest. Anger? Disappointment? Too messy to untangle.

  She stood, pacing the lab back and forth like a caged lion. Everything inside her boiled.

  He’d decided for her. Like all those damn adults who always knew better. Like commanders, senior engineers, the personnel commission. Only this wasn’t just a job anymore. This was her life.

  "Go to hell, Brown," she hissed through gritted teeth.

  But what choked her most wasn’t the anger at him. It was what she’d felt the instant she saw her name on that list.

  That damn shiver of excitement. That rush of adrenaline, that impossible, cursed, bone-deep hunger to be out there.

  She knew what it meant. No matter how much she lied to herself, no matter what she told Darina about choosing her—the stars called to her in a way nothing and no one else ever could.

  It was tearing her apart.

  She exhaled, and sank back to the console. Her fingers hovered over the keys when a new message popped up—another one, layered on top.

  "Vic, sorry for no heads-up. But we need you. I know how much you’ve dreamed of this. And I know how proud Arthur would’ve been. Don’t make me find your replacement. We leave in four months. Hope you’re with us. —Adrian."

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Her lips trembled. She closed her eyes. Her father’s face flashed before her—serious, tired, but with that special smile he saved just for her. When she’d built her first working thermoreactor circuit as a kid. When she’d defended her first project. When she’d told him she’d be an engineer, like him.

  "Damn you, Dad," she breathed.

  Victoria knew this wasn’t just a job. Not just a project. It was a legacy. She could be part of what her father lived for. What he died for.

  But she’d promised Darina. And herself. To stay.

  Stars or love.

  The old choice every spacefarer faced. And almost always, the stars won. But Victoria wasn’t "almost everyone." She’d always sworn she wouldn’t be like them.

  Inside, she argued with herself. Her mind screamed this was the chance of a lifetime. That she’d never get another shot like this. She knew what it’d do to her career if she said no. Brown—the man she’d always listened to, the link to her family’s past—had handed her a ticket to a new world.

  But everything else in her rebelled.

  She saw Darina—sleepy, tousled, with that stupid grin when she opened her eyes and saw Victoria beside her. Felt her fingers tracing lines down her back, and heard her mumble through sleep. Darina didn’t do grand words, didn’t make scenes or throw fits—but Victoria felt her attachment in every cell.

  They both knew relationships like this were rare in their lives. Every night together was more than just sex or downtime. It was a shelter—an island of normalcy in a world of orders, tight schedules, and constant risk.

  And now Victoria had to destroy that island herself.

  "You chose her," she reminded herself. "You decided the stars could wait."

  But the stars didn’t wait. They called. And in that call was something painfully familiar. Like a pull in her blood.

  Her fingers gripped the fabric of her jumpsuit. No. She wouldn’t go. Simple as that. Just say no, and it’s done. Brown would be disappointed, but he’d understand. Darina would understand. And she… she’d survive.

  She’d promised herself she wouldn’t be like her father. Wouldn’t ditch everything for a mirage on the other side of the universe. Wouldn’t live just for the next mission.

  But what if it wasn’t a mirage? What if something out there could change everything? Something worth her whole life?

  Victoria jumped up, pacing the cabin again. Her body demanded movement—like she could shake the decision out of herself by burning energy. She opened the locker, pulled out her old jacket—the one from Earth, from when she’d first joined the program. Worn, with an oil stain on the sleeve—a memento of her first solo reactor build. She’d kept it as a reminder of why she’d started this path.

  "Idiot," she muttered to herself.

  She’d chosen Darina. Herself. Because real life was here, not in some hazy "later." She wanted that normal life. Wanted to wake up next to someone she loved, bicker over who took out the trash or got the shower first. Wanted the mundane, too precious in a world of sharp edges and high stakes.

  And yet… part of her still stared out the window. Beyond Erebus. Into the unknown.

  The pull to the stars matched the pull to Darina.

  "Enough," she gritted her teeth.

  The choice was made. Darina. A normal life, as normal as a fringe-system station could offer. Done. Period.

  She went to the console, opened a reply to Brown’s message.

  "Doctor, thanks for the trust. I have to decline. Personal reasons. I’m sure you’ll find a worthy replacement."

  She hovered over that line for nearly a minute. Her fingers shook. Then she hit "Send."

  And only then realized she was crying.