Space is cold and empty, with only the distant stars and the ever occasional planet or moon as reference points. Captain Jo, or simply Haseul, from spacecraft Sambunui Il, knew this very well. Her spaceship had just left Earth a few days ago, and now she was to stay awake for her five-year shift, until she could get into cryogenic sleep. That was reasonable, she reasoned to herself: the trip to the space colony of Proxima Centauri b just took a couple of light years. Just five years awake, watching as every planet she knew went far away from her, and then resting until she reached the colony.

The only issue was the lack of company, other than the AI that served as the ship intelligence, but that was a small price to pay. Working for the maintenance of the spacecraft would make it worth it, when she reached the planet, Haseul was sure of it.

She looked away from the beautiful glass window that allowed her to see into space, and sighed, putting her hands behind her back as she walked to the kitchens. Maybe something edible - as edible as freeze-dried space food could be, really - would cheer her up.

Haseul never expected to find someone already going through the food. She stared at the girl - red dyed hair in two low twintails, wearing what was probably the rattiest hoodie Haseul had ever seen since the days she had gone to college as its youngest student, and with eyes as big as a deer that got caught in the headlights.

“Uh, hi!” She cheered, putting away the apple slices she had been seconds away from biting. “I didn’t think there would be anyone awake.”

“Yes, I can see.” Haseul crossed her arms, and the girl - that had been a NASA hoodie, once, if the faded out logo was anything to go by - rose up, red dusting her cheeks. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t arrest you for trespassing on government property.”

“Well, I know this ship will stop for a quick mechanical check in Pluto, right?” Yes, she was right. Haseul looked at her through half-lidded eyes. That was supposed to be confidential information. “You see, I’m from there, and I missed the last shutter home just the past month. So I saw that there was this one ship to Pluto, and it might be a little slower than the shuttle, but at least I’m going home, you know?”

This was probably the worst decision the girl could take. A shuttle differed from a spaceship - a shuttle took a month to reach Pluto, while this ship would take two years; it was slower so that the cryogenic rest and materials being taken to the new settlement wouldn’t be disturbed by the space warping around it.

Haseul told the girl as much, but she just grinned, shrugging. That was unusual. It was two years of her life, after all.

“Well, no problem! Two years are nothing.” Haseul kept looking at the girl, in sheer disbelief. She grinned at her. “I’m Jiwoo, by the way! Please don’t arrest me.”

“No, I’m just… Wondering.” A pause, and Jiwoo went back to her package of apple slices. “I’m captain Jo. You might as well call me Haseul. Pass me one slice.”

Jiwoo grinned, and sat by the counter near Haseul, offering her the food.

 

---

Jiwoo was recently graduated from high school, nineteen to Haseul’s twenty-one. Haseul knew they were worlds apart. Jiwoo knew this, too. It still surprised her Haseul had a phD.

“You don’t look like it!” She said, putting away the comic book she was reading, laying on one of the tables of the expansive library, more books than Haseul could expect she’ll be able to read in five years, now that Jiwoo was with her. Haseul wondered if the ship AI could download the rest of the ongoing series Jiwoo was reading if she wanted to. For archiving purposes, of course, nothing more, nothing less. No use on taking an incomplete series to the new colony, which would only receive a shuttle station who knows when.

Haseul rose her eyes from the computer screen, where she was coding a new patch for the heating unit. Maybe that would make their shared room a little bit warmer. There was only one bed, and Jiwoo had a tendency to snog the blankets. She looked at Jiwoo, sliding her reading glasses up her nose.

“I graduated at what, twelve?” She paused, and Jiwoo’s jaw slacked. “No, I’m sorry. Eleven. What was I supposed to do until I was of age to join the space program?”

“Be a kid?” Jiwoo suggested, and Haseul shrugged. She had skipped childhood to go follow her dreams. “Come on, don’t tell me you never swung on a tire or something. Even I did that, and I live in Pluto. You know, the place where we can only go outside the underground cities wearing heavy protection?”

“Yes, I’m aware of Pluto’s surface conditions. I thought my time would be better spent studying than playing.” Was Haseul’s dry reply, eyes focusing back on her code. Jiwoo huffed, rising up from her table and leaving the library. Haseul watched her go, wrote a few lines of code more, and then peeked at the comic she had left behind. It was a superhero comic, from the 21st century. Closing the laptop, she grabbed it, reading idly for a few pages.

It seemed fun, at least. Haseul didn’t know much about superheroes, but from what precious little she could gather, it was rather nice. She finished the issue, and rose up, putting it back where Jiwoo had left it (in case she wanted to finish it later), before asking the AI where the next issue was.

The AI, also called Yeojin by the scientists who made her, gave the reply quickly, as expected. Haseul thanked her before going to the shelf, and was grabbing it when Jiwoo appeared again, out of thin air.

“Come with me, come on!” Jiwoo said, pulling her by the arm, and Haseul let herself be taken. Jiwoo guided her through the ever-polished hallways of the ship (a courtesy of the hardworking space roombas. Jiwoo had put a knife into one. Haseul had had more than one pant ripped because of it), before arriving in the Garden.

The Garden was exactly what its name implied: a huge swathe of lands indoors, with trees that occupied the entire canopy, flowers making the filtered air smell sweet and welcoming. There was the sound of water trickling in from somewhere far and birds singing sweetly, but she knew it came from the speakers. Running water was an electrical risk and the birds were unneeded.

The one new thing was the swing, made from rope that was hastily knotted around a wooden plaque. Haseul stared at it.

“Where did you get the materials, Jiwoo?” Haseul asked, approaching, the ground getting softer as she stepped on the earth. Jiwoo grinned, almost prancing as she guided Haseul to the swing.

“Yeojin helped me! I got the wood and the rope from the construction materials. She said we could get more in the restocking stop, in Pluto.” Jiwoo made Haseul sit on the swing, and her hands went to the rope, automatically. She looked at Jiwoo, and the girl went behind her, grinning like the sun they left behind. “Alright, get ready! I’m going to count to three, alright? One, two...”

Jiwoo didn’t count to three, giving Haseul a push and making her feel like she was on one of the launch exercises, back when she was nineteen and still unused to how it felt to go out of the stratosphere conditions. It was odd, especially when they were surrounded by a forced gravity. She grabbed the rope tighter, breathless, and letting herself swing along.

The tree rustled above her, concern over the nature pouring over her head, and she forced herself to stop, sticking her feet in the ground and accidentally knocking herself over Jiwoo, the two falling in the ground in a messy pile of limbs.

Somehow, some way Haseul would never understand, she ended up on top of the other girl, face dirtied with soil. She put her hands around Jiwoo’s head, supporting herself, touching more of Jiwoo she would have liked to, and blushed.

“Are you alright? You didn’t hit your head, did you?” Haseul asked, voice more soft than she would have liked, and Jiwoo, face red and pretty, shook her head. “Are you sure? We can go to the medbay if you’d like. Yeojin can scan you.”

“I’m fine!” Jiwoo squeaked, wiggling herself, and Haseul finally noticed what position she was in, jumping out, hands in the air as if to show Jiwoo she wasn’t touching her anymore. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” Haseul asked, once more, putting her hands down, and Jiwoo nodded. “I’m glad, then. I’m… I’m going to finish coding.”

She could change clothes later. The roombas would enjoy having actual dirt to clean, Haseul supposed.

“I’m going to… Change?” Jiwoo tried, and Haseul nodded, dusting her clothes before walking back to the library. The spot of dirt in her pristine white cuffs could wait until later.

Why was she still blushing? Haseul looked at the window while she went to her coding, space empty and twinkling slowly, stars burning in the faraway distance, and hoped it provided the tiniest bit of clarity. When it didn’t, she sighed, passing a hand through her brown, short hair, and went back to her code.

---

“Goodnight, Jiwoo.” Haseul yawned, going under the covers, where Jiwoo already was. It had been two months since the swing incident, and three months ever since she had found Jiwoo in the kitchen. They were near the asteroid belt, and it meant that they were ever so close to the Pluto rest stop. Sure, it would still take more than a year and a half, but the quickly approaching belt made it more real.

“Night, Haseul.” Jiwoo replied, voice muffled by the covers, and Haseul let herself be, closing her eyes, trying not to notice how close Jiwoo’s body was. She was warm and soft.

There had been only one room for sleeping in the entire ship, since there was supposed to only be one person awake on it at all times. As such, Haseul and Jiwoo had been forced to share the bed. Good thing it wasn’t a single, and Haseul was thanking the sleeping captain Kim for insisting on making it a double.

At first, it had been awkward and cold, but after the deployed patch code that made Haseul able to control the heating, it was better. Jiwoo also had developed the most curious habit of cuddling Haseul in her sleep, which helped with the cold a little, since Haseul didn’t turn up the heat too much as to not affect the supplies. Haseul wondered if it was loneliness, but none of her three phDs was in psychology. Maybe she should get one when the shuttle station got to Proxima Centauri b. She turned to face Jiwoo, who automatically buried her face in Haseul’s neck.

No matter; Jiwoo was quite warm, and she smelled nice enough. It wasn’t the smell of the ship-issued bathing products, mostly because they were odorless to avoid any allergen issues. It was… Roses, maybe? Or something like that. Haseul sort of wanted to lean in and smell her hair, but that’d be weird, right? She scooped slightly closer to Jiwoo, who seemed to be fast asleep, and gathered the courage to sniff, when the alarm sounded.

“Captain Jo, alert in the central.” Said Yeojin, her voice ringing through the room, and making both jump out - Haseul in surprise, and Jiwoo because she suddenly had been woken up by the disembodied voice of the AI. Haseul got hit by Jiwoo’s head, her jaw clicking uncomfortably and shooting pain into her brain. She was almost sure she heard Yeojin snickering, but it could be her newly formed headache talking.

“Sorry!” Jiwoo whispered, blinking herself awake, and Haseul smiled, massaging her lower jaw. She’d survive. Haseul looked to the ceiling.

“Yeojin, what’s the issue?” Haseul asked, rising up, wondering if she should put on one of her uniforms. If it was a message from Earth, she should be presentable. Probably. She should brush her hair, maybe.

“We are in collision zone with the asteroids. Calculations say it is best to have a human pilot on the cabin.” She had a pleasant, smooth voice; Haseul really didn’t want her to say these words. She knew the asteroid belt was a dangerous zone, but not that much - a shuttle, that was mostly uncommanded in-person, could make it just fine through it at almost breakneck speeds.

Of course, she knew that there was a difference between a shuttle and her ship, which was namely size, so Haseul passed a hand through her hair, sighing.

“Alright, thank you, Yeojin. I’ll be there in a moment.” Haseul replied, and the AI’s presence disappeared from the room. She should, probably, put on her uniform, but she very much doubted there’d be a message of congratulations from the central. She rose, letting go of the covers, and looked at Jiwoo. “You can stay and sleep. Don’t worry. It’s just for the safety of the ones sleeping.”

A pause, and Jiwoo nodded, covering herself and going back to sleep. Haseul wished she could stay in bed, but duty called. Putting on her slippers, Haseul wandered down to the piloting cabin - a wide room on the topmost layer of the spaceship, window panes letting her see into space all around her, the holographic screens that showed everywhere inside and outside the ship a cocoon around the comfortable chair that was meant for the captain, a computer attached to it. Taking her seat, Haseul touched one of the screens, showing the asteroid belt passing peacefully around her.

“Yeojin, where is the collision zone?” She asked, opening the computer and touching it until she found the right buttons to press to pass her the manual control. She wasn’t planning on touching it yet, but it was better to have it on hand already.

Yeojin appeared, this time as the holographic presence she was - a young girl, maybe fourteen, hair long and also in four little buns atop her head. She wasn’t sure why an AI needed a hairstyle, but Haseul had met the scientists behind the project enough to know they would listen to anything the AI wanted and give it to her.

“Near the northwest section, captain Jo.” Yeojin snapped her fingers and the screen showing the section popped up near Haseul. She analyzed the image for a few seconds and yes, there were some smaller asteroids closer to the spaceship, but nothing that seemed like it would do more damage than a few scratches. As if reading her mind, Yeojin continued speaking. “If the ship turns fifteen degrees to the right, it’ll hit the nitrogen supplies, which will force us to make a stop in Callisto. That would put us five months behind schedule.”

Haseul could see how falling behind schedule could be bad, but...

“Isn’t the onboard intelligence supposed to drive the ship?” Haseul grumbled, staring at the screen, and Yeojin smiled like the brat she appeared to be.

“Calculations indicate that it is best to have the captain paying attention.” Yeojin replied, disappearing back to… Who knew, she was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. She put her head against the chair, putting away the screen with the offending session for a moment and staring at the space in front of her. Haseul was almost sure that, if she squinted, she’d be able to see Jupiter.

Haseul, for all her work, had never stepped foot outside Earth. She always had been busy studying and reading, to have picked up a shuttle and gone for vacation in the Mars settlements and enjoy the sun. Sure, it was a few hours - you didn’t even have to get into cryosleep to go to Mars! -, but Haseul had wanted to learn. Now, while she had all the theoretical knowledge, she had never stepped on another planet, not even seen it pass by her, only through photos and telescopes.

A cup of coffee was put by her side, the smell waking her up from her musings and making her look up, where Jiwoo, still in pajamas, was grinning, holding her own mug of coffee.

“Hey there, captain!” She chirped, and smiled brightly. “Thought it’d be kinda lonely for you. I made coffee, Yeojin helped!”

“You didn’t have to.” Haseul said, taking her mug and just letting it rest in her hands, warm and comfortable as she looked at the space in front of her, the steam slow and making her view slightly blurred.

“It wasn’t fair for you to stay awake alone. Come on, Haseul, I have to pay my travel.” Jiwoo sipped at her mug, which, by the smell, wasn’t coffee (hot cocoa, perhaps?), and looked out in space. Jiwoo sat in the armrest, and put a blanket over their shoulders, one handedly. “I’ve never seen the asteroid belt. Awake, at least.”

Oh, yes. The shuttle usually put any passengers in a trip longer than a week into cryosleep, for safety. Something about cabin fever, she had been told.

Haseul drank a sip of her coffee and watched the space. Asteroids floated gently around them, like a dream, and Jiwoo was warm. That was enough. Haseul looked at Jiwoo’s profile, the girl bathed by the cool blue light of the screens, and couldn’t help but smile a little. She looked wonderful, even in the ratty pajamas she had smuggled in her small bag, even in the messy bed hair she had. Was her heart beating slightly faster because of the caffeine, or…?

“It’s so pretty.” Jiwoo sighed, looking out into space, sipping her drink. Haseul nodded.

“It is.” She said, not talking about the view outside their window at all.

---

Haseul had to check on some reports of fuel usage on the bridge, and asked Yeojin to hang out with Jiwoo for a while, since she didn’t know how much time it would take. When she finished them, however, she couldn’t seem to find the two, and Yeojin was having a teenager mood (wasn’t artificial intelligence amazing? They perfectly replicated moodiness!), because she plain wasn’t responding to Haseul calling her. Passing a hand through her hair, she went to the main hub where the holographic screens of everywhere in the ship were, and combed through them until she found Jiwoo and the holographic Yeojin.

They were in the kitchen. Haseul raised an eyebrow, trying to identify what they were doing, and couldn’t guess it. She pressed the intercom button.

“Jiwoo, hello there. Yeojin, what the hell are you doing?” Haseul asked, leaning into the counter, and the two looked around. Well, Jiwoo looked around. Yeojin looked straight to the camera and gently elbowed Jiwoo so she would look there too. When she did, she smiled brightly, a spot of flour in her cheek, waving a little.

“Jiwoo wanted to cook.” Jiwoo made a hurried noise, sort of strangled, and Yeojin smiled. Then, nothing but darkness. Haseul stared at the now blank holographic screen saying “CONNECTION LOST” in bright red letters, and took a deep breath. The screens didn’t do that anymore, not unless a bratty teenaged AI was commanding them.

She went to the kitchen in hurried steps, and when she arrived on the first place she had met Jiwoo, she found the girl carrying a cookie tray. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and she was looking really cute. Haseul stammered for a moment, and Yeojin, who was sitting on the counters kicking her feet into the air, giggled.

“Jiwoo?” Haseul managed, after recovering her composure. Jiwoo turned to face her and blushed. The girl put the tray on the counter, cleaning her hands on the ratty hoodie, and approached Haseul. Yeojin, in the background, disappeared, but Haseul barely noticed.

“Hi! Well, this is a bit sooner than what I wanted, but hey, happy birthday!” Jiwoo chirped, grabbing Haseul’s hand and dirtying them with flour. How the hell was she so covered with flour? Where she had taken it from? That was supposed to be kept in storage until they reached Proxima Centauri b. Was she going to have to get flour from Pluto? Was there flour in that planet?

Also, was it her birthday? Haseul knew she should know what date it was, but space had no set time of sunrise and sundown, so keeping track of days was kind of hard. Sure, she read the report on supplies every time she woke up to make sure they were on track, since there were two people awake and she had to make sure nothing seemed out of normality for when captain Ha woke up, but it was based on day one, day two, and so on, not the Earth-established date and hour format.

Besides, who knew how many days it were until her birthday? Haseul might be a genius, but even she didn’t know that. And there was also another question, namely…

“How did you know it was my birthday?” She asked, blinking quickly, hands still on Jiwoo’s hands. Jiwoo grinned even more, if that was possible.

“I asked Yeojin and she made up some reports for you to read so I could bake you a cake and some cookies. Now come on, you got cookies to eat!” Jiwoo pulled her along, and Haseul smiled while the girl couldn’t see.

“Thanks.”

“It’s nothing! It’s the least I could do, right?”

It’s more than Haseul ever had, so she says nothing and eats her cookies with Jiwoo, sitting on the floor of the kitchen. When they’re halfway done through it, Haseul looks at Jiwoo.

“When it is your birthday?” She asked, playing idly with a cookie, feeling sort of full, but it felt bad to let these cookies go to waste. Jiwoo had spent so much time on them, after all. “I’d like to celebrate it, as well. You deserve some sort of commemoration too.”

Jiwoo looked at her, pausing for a moment.

“My Earth birthday is October twenty.” She started slowly, and Haseul rose up one eyebrow. Earth birthday? As if sensing her question, Jiwoo blushed. “Pluto takes 248 Earth years to have one year, so… So we sort of don’t record birthdays. Most kids are sent to Earth, anyway, just until they’re finished with high school, so our birthday becomes whenever we went there for the first time.”

That made sense. And also meant that Jiwoo was probably older than she was.

“And how old were you when you went to Earth…?” Haseul asked, and Jiwoo paused, nibbling on her cookie.

“I was a baby, so probably not very old. I went once a year to Pluto, for one Earth month. Sometimes more. Just to visit, you know?” She smiled softly, eyes distant. “Got raised by my grandparents. They were nice, but…”

Haseul passed her another cookie, and Jiwoo took it. Haseul let her eat half of it before speaking again.

“But?”

“But they died. Old age, you know. The shuttle home I missed was because… Well, because I hate how slow Pluto is. Every day took so long to pass, and I could see my classmates doing so many things during one Pluto day while I did absolutely nothing, so I got… Frustrated. One month sleeping to go, one month that took maybe three Pluto days to pass, one month sleeping back. Isn’t that boring? I don’t want to go back to Pluto, but what else I’m supposed to do? I have no one on Earth to turn back to.” Jiwoo hugged her legs, abandoning her half-eaten cookie back on a plate, burrowing her face in her knees. Her voice was sort of muffled, but her shoulders were trembling. “And now I’m on a ship back home but all I can do there is get one of the mining jobs because I have no education to get one of the engineering jobs so I’m going to be stuck forever there, mining while everyone else does better stuff with their lives!”

She seemed nearly hysterical, voice getting higher with every syllable. Haseul got on her knees, putting her hands on Jiwoo’s shoulders, and the girl looked at her quietly. There were tears in her eyes. Haseul stared everywhere, trying to read her face, but human connections never had been her strong suit.

“Hey, hey. Jiwoo.” She called, softly, and Jiwoo sniffed. “Listen. I don’t have the right words to say, but right now? Right now, you’re on this ship going to Pluto with me. You don’t have to stay in Pluto once you get there. Pluto has shuttles to the entire known Solar System. Mars has a pretty good college. Venus always needs new employees. You’re not stuck to a planet just because you were born there. The entire universe is your oyster. So let’s go wipe those tears, and I’ll get Yeojin to download us some guides to other settlements and colonies. Okay? And if you like nothing at all, I’ll fake you being a passenger of this ship. Proxima Centauri b needs people.”

Jiwoo sniffled again, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, and Haseul helped the other girl get up, taking out her handkerchief from her pocket and gently patting Jiwoo’s face. She put it back on her pocket, and Jiwoo seemed a little less sad.

“Okay.” Jiwoo replied, sad an undertone in her voice, and Haseul put her hands on Jiwoo’s. “Okay. I’m going to be alright.”

“I’ll make sure.” Depending on where Jiwoo went, she could always send word to some military base. She may have been a little bad with human relations, but she had made some friends, as few as they were. “Now come on, let’s grab this plate of cookies and go to the library. I think we may have already something about the settlement in Neptune...”

Jiwoo did as told while Haseul babbled about her little knowledge of Neptunian economy, not letting go of one of Haseul’s hand as they went to the library. Haseul did not see the little smile Jiwoo had while she looked at her, blushing almost imperceptibly.

---

“Pass me the wrench.” Haseul asked, holding her hand out. Jiwoo, outside, did as told, and Haseul opened the panel. “What did you say about Mars?”

Yeojin had woken them up at nine in the morning because there was a small oil leak on the lower decks; while it was quite far from either the cryogenic sleep beds or the nitrogen reservoirs, it was still a dangerous thing. Haseul had planned to go alone, but Jiwoo followed her, one or two of her books under her arms. Haseul hadn’t understood at first, but now she did: fixing a leak was boring.

“The most popular town is Opportunity, named for the robot, and it also has the best diving spots!” Jiwoo repeated, while Haseul grabbed a lantern, shining it into the bowels of the spacecraft. She would have to crawl inside… “Apparently, scientists created entire coral reefs and save the Australian Coral Reef by using the natural formations of rock and, well, Opportunity itself.”

A frown marred her face. Haseul entered the tight space, staring up.

“They didn’t try to save Oppy?” Haseul’s voice echoed through the walls, and she stared at the oil-covered pipes. That would require some cleaning. “The acetone, please.”

Jiwoo gave her the acetone and a clean rag. Haseul started the job of cleaning the spilled material to try to find the source. Welding it would probably solve the issue, but who knew where it was, covered in oil as it was?

“Oppy had been without battery for too long, apparently.” Haseul heard Jiwoo humming as if in deep thought. “It’s a bit cruel, though. They didn’t even bury her.”

She knew what Jiwoo’s tone meant.

“So it’s a no?”

“Yeah, it’s a no from me. I wouldn’t be able to live there knowing that no one buried her, especially after all she did.” Jiwoo giggled at that, and Haseul saw that one place she had recently cleaned was dirty again - but this time, she could identify the source, a small hole in the upper corner. Yes, she could weld it together. She would have to use the ultrasonic weld as so not to risk exploding the entire spacecraft and therefore ruining the mission, but it was doable.

“What are your other options now?” Asked Haseul, continuing to clean the oil, putting in a clean rag on top of the open hole as so to contain the mess. “You’ve rejected Venus, Mars and the Europa settlement thus far.”

Another humming sound from Jiwoo, and she let the girl think. She grabbed, blindly, another rag, and Jiwoo handed it for her.

She was halfway done with the last pipe when Jiwoo spoke up again.

“Do you know anything about Ceres?” The girl asked, and Haseul had to think about it. She knew it was yet another tourist planet, but she also knew it wasn’t like Mars and it’s sprawling beaches. She told Jiwoo as such, and the girl sighed, the sound of her shifting positions echoing through the empty hulls of the ship. “It’s a new-ish colony, apparently. Needs people, but also doesn’t because it doesn’t have that many things open yet? So I guess I could open something there.”

“You could.” Haseul agreed, cleaning finished. “Maybe a bakery. Pass me the welder, please.”

“A bakery sounds nice. I do like baking…” Jiwoo gave her the welder and the protective glasses, and Haseul smiled at those. She was thoughtful, because Haseul had completely forgotten about those.

“Then go to Ceres and open a bakery.” Haseul slipped on the glasses and hummed quietly as she welded the hole, cleaning it twice after she was done to make sure there were no spillages anymore.

Just to be sure, however, she triple checked the entire spot, finding one or two spills more she hadn’t cleaned before. After she was done, Haseul got off the crawlspace and closed it, wrenching it until the panel was back in its place and the wall looked pristine. Jiwoo stared at her, and then grabbed the clean-ish rag Haseul was holding, passing it gently on the captain’s face. Was Haseul blushing? She felt herself blushing.

“You’ve got a spot.” Jiwoo said, after she cleaned Haseul's face, and the girl smiled softly, discarding the dirty rag and grabbing her hand. “Now, do you think the library has cookbooks?”

“We can ask Yeojin to download some.” Haseul replied, grabbing her repair kit and following Jiwoo.

---

Eight months after they had left Earth with one more passenger than expected, they got a transmission from back home.

Well, back home for Haseul, at least. It meant that they were woken up at four am (who did that? Whose idea was that?!), and that Haseul had to scramble to get herself presentable, Jiwoo had to find a good spot to hide, away from all cameras in case they checked in them (there was a blind spot on top of one of the library shelves, so Jiwoo scrambled there), and Yeojin had to stall for time in a manner that didn’t let the people in higher command positions than Haseul know she wasn’t sleeping in her uniform, ready to go at any second.

When Haseul sat on her captain chair, Yeojin gave her a sharp nod, appearing behind her, and she barely had time to straighten her back before transmission started.

“Captain Jo, good morning.” General Lee said, and Haseul wondered where she was, for it to be a morning. Haseul said nothing of the sort, since the general was higher in the command chain than Haseul was. Also, because Haseul had the slightest crush on her ever since basics, where the general taught before she got transferred. General Lee had been nice to her, when Haseul had a slight panic attack at being bad at the exercises. One of the few times she had ever blamed her loathing of sports and desire to see space up close on a ship of her own.

Sure, the military didn’t exactly allow generals and foot soldiers to be friendly, but the general had taken her away under the premise of being though at her, and then took her to her office, told her to call her by her given name, and let Haseul unload everything she had been feeling. It had been rather nice, and general Lee had let her come back every time she needed. It hadn’t been many times, but Haseul still remembered it fondly.

“General Lee, good morning to you as well. What do I owe the pleasure?” She asked, as smoothly as she could, a polite smile on her face as she pretended she hadn’t been in bed barely ten minutes ago.

“It’s about Yeojin.” A pause, while the general, in her own comfortable seat millions of miles away from Haseul, adjusted her hands in her lap. Yeojin gulped. Haseul didn’t know AIs could gulp. “We’ve been checking her maintenance records, and we’ve seen she has kept recordings of conversations that are with a third party. No text transcripts or audio, because she has been encrypting it, but we were wondering if you knew about this? If so, could you provide us with said information?”

Oh, . She wanted to give Yeojin a look, but doing so would make her look guilty. The encrypted conversations were probably with Jiwoo, but it wasn’t like they could tell the general they had got someone in who wasn’t supposed to be there, since it would raise security concerns in the base. Wait, maybe they should tell. The mere fact Jiwoo had sneaked in unnoticed until Haseul found her implied there was a security failure somewhere in the ship.

However, if they thought someone had hacked Yeojin and the encrypted conversations were actually her passing information to unauthorized people, she’d be put out of commission, and who knew where the AI went when it wasn’t on? Was it similar to death? Haseul didn’t want Yeojin to die. Sure, she was kind of a brat, but she was one of the few, precious company she had in this ship. Which she also drove, so it was very important that she stayed alive and well.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what Yeojin does when she’s not helping me pilot the ship, general Lee.” Haseul said, and the general’s eyes went to Yeojin, who, by the small feedback loop on the right corner, looked slightly terrified. Had the scientists imbued her with a fear of higher ups? If so, that was… , she was going to have to pick up coding again. Yeojin was part of her tripulation, small as it was, and there was no way she was letting that get away. “Yeojin?”

“Yes, Yeojin. Can you talk about what you’re talking about?” The general smiled as nicely as Haseul remembered her, but it felt cold. Haseul was itching to get to coding, noticing Yeojin’s huge eyes.

“It’s…” A pause. Haseul didn’t know she could hesitate. That was… Surprisingly human, for a robot. “I’ve found on the psychology and medicine archives of articles in my intelligence that cryogenically asleep subjects come out of sleep faster if they have constant brain stimulation during their trip. As such, I’ve been reading them the current newspapers that have been downloaded every morning to my servers. I have encrypted the files so it is not such a heavy burden on the file size.”

That was such a good lie that Haseul was almost convinced Yeojin had been doing that. Unfortunately, she knew it wasn’t truth.

The general bought it, at least, blinking quickly, before her smile grew warmer.

“Oh, is that it? How thoughtful of you, Yeojin.” She gave a look at Haseul. “Allow her some time every day for this job, yes, captain Jo? Dismissed.”

The transmission blinked itself off, the hologram screen fading away until only the cold, empty space showed itself in front of them. Haseul let herself slouch, letting go of a breath she didn’t know she held, and Yeojin hit her head against the chair. It made an audible thunk. She didn’t know a hologram could do that.

“Just so we are clear, Yeojin,” Started Haseul, slowly, putting her hands on her face. “The encrypted conversations are with Jiwoo, right?”

“Of course, captain. What, should I be talking to you?” There was sarcasm in her words, a glare in her eyes. Haseul sighed, more relieved than she should be. “Goddamnit. I have a billion terabytes of intelligence and all it does is get me more work.”

“That’s the price of being intelligent. More work.” Yeojin put her tongue out at that, huffing, before disappearing, and Haseul took a deep breath, slouching against her chair. She had to find Jiwoo, now that things were safe.

The library, when she arrived, looked empty. That was great, but not what she needed.

“Jiwoo? Everything’s clear, you can come out.” Haseul said, her steps echoing in the empty metal floor. Was this how it would be to be alone in the ship? How cruel.

Jiwoo popped her head out of the top of one of the shelves, at least twenty meters from the floor. There were no stairs in sight.

“Hi, Haseul! I think I’m going to live here forever. I can’t seem to figure out how to go down!” There was a cheerful tone to her voice, as she put her hand on her face, smiling brightly even though she was stuck there. Haseul laughed. “Do you think we can figure out an elevator so I can have food?”

Haseul laughed again, and so did Jiwoo.

“I have a better solution, one moment, just hold yourself tight. Yeojin, protect the books, and turn down the gravity slightly.” She called, and watched as glass slid over the shelves until they locked in place.

It was a protective measure, in case of loss of gravity, so the books wouldn’t float everywhere and get in the wrong order, and also in case the ship crashed: if that was the case, the missile-proof glass could keep them intact.

Haseul felt herself getting lighter, her hair going slightly upwards as her feet left the ground. Jiwoo shrieked gleefully, and Haseul forced herself to the ground, just to get enough momentum to be able to float all the way up.

When she reached Jiwoo, she offered the girl a hand, and she accepted it in between a fit of giggling, letting go of her hand on the shelf, intertwining her fingers with Haseul’s, who pulled her out of there. To make sure Jiwoo wasn’t going to flail or anything, she put her hand on the small of Jiwoo’s back, gently righting her, the other girl putting her free hand on Haseul’s waist.

“How come you’re so gracious while doing this?” Jiwoo asked, and Haseul noticed how close they were, Jiwoo’s face too near her. She would be panicking, but the low-gravity training was setting in.

“I trained for six months. We don’t know the gravitational pull of Proxima Centauri b yet, so they put me and the other captains under rigorous training.” She paused, and Jiwoo inclined her head. The two were lazily floating in space, into each other's arms. Haseul’s heart rate was probably too high to be safe. “Although it’ll probably be useless, since the surface temperatures and general condition there doesn’t make the surface available to live in.”

Jiwoo laughed softly, and looked at her through thick lashes. Were they always so full? Her head was full with blood and made her confused.

“Tell me more about that planet. I've never heard about it before.” She asked, and Haseul, holding Jiwoo in her arms, did as told, floating lazily around the library.

---

Haseul knew when she had spent one year on that ship because her daily report showed the date as “day 365! Happy one year stuck here, captain nerd! Get a move on Jiwoo already!”, and then promptly spit her coffee all over the holographic screens. She glared at Yeojin, who was pointedly not looking at her, whistling innocently as the roombas almost cheered and fought between themselves for the right of cleaning an actual mess. Yeah, right. Surely Yeojin had no part of this, just like Jiwoo had never snuck inside the ship.

“What move, Yeojin?” She said through gritted teeth, staring at the AI. “She’s not into me. And even if she was, it’s either Stockholm Syndrome or bridge effect.”

Yeojin’s eye glowed in a soft orange for a moment, which meant she was downloading and processing new information. Haseul waited.

“Captain Jo, I checked and you have no degree in psychology or the like, so I’m going to take your opinion with a grain of salt.” Yeojin replied, cheerful, and Haseul glared at her. “Oh, come on, just take her out! Show her the sleeping people, do something nice! Has she ever seen the lower deck? Have you presented her the other captains? Come on, let me run this ship one day and be nice to her!”

“Don’t you run this ship every day?” Haseul asked, rising from her seat, which made Yeojin yell triumphantly. “I am not doing this because you suggested it, I am doing this because I have to check on the lower deck conditions. It’s part of the job description.”

“Yeah, sure. Invite Jiwoo.” Yeojin said, disappearing into nothingness, and Haseul sighed. She knew Jiwoo was probably in the kitchen, experimenting with that Martian cookbook Yeojin had downloaded. Most recipes on the book were good. Most recipes there were just trying to make military rations tastier, and ended up failing. She wasn’t planning on telling Jiwoo that. Jiwoo looked so happy every time Haseul ate her food, she couldn’t just tell her it was awful.

As she went to the kitchen, Haseul mused on what Jiwoo had decided: simply put, Ceres needed people to man the place. While it wasn’t a settlement as new as Proxima Centauri b or as old as the settlements in the moons of Jupiter, it had been the easier to terraform, transforming the cratered surface into an ice paradise. Ceres had become yet another tourist planet, together with Mars and its beaches and Venus’ eternally awake floating casinos, but it was nice. Sort of. The photos looked relaxing, at least.

If Haseul ever had a break from Proxima Centauri b’s engineering troubles, she’d like to visit. Ceres, that’s it. Jiwoo too, if she would have her. Blushing slightly, Haseul cleared , looking out of the window. They were passing through Saturn, which marked the official, schedule-ordained, midway point of their voyage. She put a hand on the window, sighing wistfully. Just another year to Pluto. Just another year with Jiwoo.

Keeping her head high, Haseul marched to the kitchen where Jiwoo was, Mars cookbook open, mixing what looked like cookie dough, but in a suspicious shade of green. There was no food coloring on board. Haseul looked at that with half-lidded eyes.

“Hello, Jiwoo.” She started, and the girl looked at her with stars in her eyes. She was so beautiful, wasn’t she? Too bad they were going to different places and Haseul probably would not see her ever again. “I have to inspect the lower deck today and check if all the cryogenic beds work properly. Would you like to come with me?”

Jiwoo nodded, smiling, and stopped mixing her batter, which started bubbling. It was… A bit worrying.

“Yeah, sure! Just give me a moment to cover this up…” She trailed off, looking for the plastic wrap, behind her. Haseul could see it, so she did the rational thing, which was to pick it up herself, accidentally brushing against Jiwoo, which made her uniform get slightly dirty with the flour in her clothes. Jiwoo made a noise, and Haseul looked at her, and oh, weren’t they too close? Haseul had a slight moment of panic, jumping back (well, not literally, but her heart might as well have) and handing Jiwoo the plastic wrap, the girl in question blushing for a mere second before quickly wrapping in the food and setting it in the fridge.

Haseul then took the two out of the kitchen, silence hanging heavy between them until Jiwoo spoke up.

“You said cryosleep beds, right?” Jiwoo started, slowly, and Haseul nodded. “Are they like the ones in shuttles, or…?”

Haseul knew, in theory, how the shuttle beds were: literal chambers were people laid down and were put, first, under sleeping gas, and then under the gas mixture that made up the cryogenic part. These were… Different. Haseul didn’t know its exact composition, but she knew there was a high quantity of nitrogen.

“Well, yes, and no.” Haseul started, slowly, as they grabbed the ride down to the lower decks. Usually Haseul kept it locked down, just in case, but since they had to see it, it was the better option. It was, after all, a hundred stairs until there, and Haseul refused to climb it up.

Jiwoo, however, was looking at her curiously, blinking quickly.

“The chambers in the shuttle are usually laid down, right?” Haseul continued, and Jiwoo nodded. Great, then the information in the books she had read wasn’t that old. “Well, since we got roughly a thousand people here, having them laid down on the ground just occupies space. So they’re upwards.”

“Like laboratory experiments?” Jiwoo asked, crowned by Saturn’s rings. Maybe this was why they made the elevator panoramic, so that Jiwoo, their secret passenger, could be crowned by a planet. Haseul’s heart was beating loudly against her ribcage.

Haseul smiled softly at her.

“Yes, just like those. We also have a screen with videos of the people in there, so if you’d like to get to know your fellow passengers better, feel free to while I work.” Haseul said, and Jiwoo nodded. “We have many folks, and they’re all pretty interesting, so have fun.”

“I will!” Jiwoo said, as the doors opened, revealing the ante room - white and chrome, with sofas peppered through, so that the recently awakened had a place to sit and collected their thoughts. Television screens were located every five panels, and Haseul had the vaguest idea it was because the captain would make the announcement they were arriving in Proxima Centauri b. It would not be her, though; if she was correct, it would be captain Seo.

No matter. Haseul opened the metal doors, the lights turning on by itself slowly, revealing the people floating gently in their cryogenic sleep chambers. The small screen by their sides lit up, showing the name of the ship in gentle gray letters, but that wasn’t what Haseul was looking for. She turned to Jiwoo, who was looking to the corridors upon corridors of people with wide eyes.

“I’ll be in the back if you need me.” Haseul said, softly, and Jiwoo nodded, distracted, before running off somewhere. She giggled, passing a hand through her hair - slightly longer, but not much; maybe just past her shoulders -, before going to the back.

There lay the other four captains, plus two empty chambers - one for her, and another in case a passenger woke up and their bed was beyond repair. Haseul nodded to her fellow captains, and went to the panel in the back, opening it with her credentials, revealing a small screen.

“Yeojin, turn this on for me.” She whispered, and the screen lit up, revealing information about each of the passengers usage of oxygen and so on. She lost herself in the data for a few hours, comparing numbers in her head, until the conclusion came off pretty positive that everything was according to plan. No one was dead, which was fantastic, considering the rate of 0.005892% of deaths within the first year of a long space trip, and the 0.000198% of waking up during the process and starving to death.

Raising up her head, feeling blood circulate through her body again, Haseul closed the panel, letting the screen turn off by itself, and looked at her floating comrades. She’d be there, in four years, asleep and peaceful.

And where would Jiwoo be, she wondered, distantly? In Ceres, having fun, she’d bet. Skiing, maybe? Baking? Who knew. Haseul knew she’d be busy in the future, working to make Proxima Centauri b more habitable.

“Haseul!” Called Jiwoo, running to her, and Haseul opened her arms almost automatically, the other girl throwing herself in them. No one noticed that. “There’s so many interesting people! Like, the girl three corridors down is...”

She let Jiwoo babble, even though she knew the basics of each passenger, but Haseul let her speak, the two eventually finding their way to the floor, Jiwoo sitting between Haseul’s legs, head craned to look at Haseul, using poor captain Qian’s chamber as a resting spot for Haseul’s back. She hoped he wouldn’t mind much.

“... And these are you fellow captains, I suppose?” Jiwoo said, after a long explanation of the people of the ship. Haseul thought it had been an hour and a half of listening to her, but that wasn’t an issue.

Haseul looked back, to where captain Qian was bobbing up and down gently, fast asleep, unaware of what was happening around him.

“Yes, they are.” Haseul said, and knocked gently on captain Qian’s resting chamber. “That’s Captain Qian, and he’ll substitute me in four years. My bed is by his side.”

Jiwoo rose up, peering curiously at the empty chambers, before touching the screen on Haseul’s future bed. It lit up quickly, and soon Haseul’s introduction video played up, the girl herself with freshly cut short hair looking straight to to camera.

“Captain Jo presenting for duty. My job is to repair engines and ships in general.” A pause, just a moment long. Haseul knew what was coming next, rising up, dusting her pants. “I look forward to being off-planet.”

Her face showed a small smile that Haseul didn’t know was there, and then, it faded to gray, being substituted by a pop up asking if Jiwoo would like to see it again. Jiwoo’s fingers hovered over the screen for a moment, before turning back to face Haseul, a grin in her face, hands behind her back.

“You looked so cute in your introduction video!” Jiwoo said, and Haseul blinked quickly, feeling her cheeks warm up. “And so, so pretty too!”

“Me?” She was surprised, really. She could remember captain Ha looking unimpressed while she saw everyone’s introductions, and she had looked with what seemed to Haseul like disgust after seeing hers. Or maybe Haseul was biased, because her own little movie was short, maybe? They had thirty seconds to talk to the camera, and Haseul had preferred it to be short and to the point. Was it her fault?

Well, no matter, because Jiwoo smiled at it.

“Yeah, you! Have you seen your fellow captains’ videos?” Jiwoo asked, gesturing to the other screens.

“We recorded them together, so yes. They’re more interesting than mine, that I can say.” Haseul smiled softly, and Jiwoo giggled. “If you’d like to watch them, feel free to.”

“No, I’m good.” Haseul looked at her, curious, cocking her head slightly. “I’m only interested in you, really!”

Haseul could’ve fainted and died right there and then, but she was trained to not be too susceptible. Her cheeks, however, were on fire.

“I’m glad to hear it, Jiwoo.” Haseul managed, strangled. Jiwoo simply giggled, like a child, and approached Haseul with big, sparkling eyes. “Er, I’m afraid I’m done here, so shall we head back? There’s, uh, work to be done, and…”

Yes, she was mumbling nonsense. Yes, she was blushing. Yes, Jiwoo was too close. Maybe Haseul was panicking, but training never covered this.

“Alright. Do you want to watch me cook while you read?” Jiwoo offered, and Haseul nodded quietly. Yeah, that would work.

---

It was Jiwoo’s birthday, so Haseul gave her the gift of making everything low gravity. It was the least she could do, Haseul reasoned, pretending not to see Yeojin fail to contain laughter. She glared at the girl, and floated away when she did as told, lowering the gravity on almost the entire upper deck. The Garden still had its gravity settings; Haseul knew roots grew oddly in low gravity environments, and she would not risk it.

Still. She reached Jiwoo after a few moments of letting herself float along, finding the girl giggling loudly on the main area - the entrance where sofas and other sitting places where, screens all around, and the odd magazine and book were lying around. It was much like the anteroom of the cryogenic sleep chambers, but much more relaxing to be around. There were even games around! Sure, it was board games and the like, but it was because technology got outdated fast. When they reached Proxima Centauri b, this would be the main living area until they could have an appropriate settlement.

Jiwoo was doing cartwheels mid-air, the magazines floating lazily around her, and Haseul giggled, approaching her, and grabbing Jiwoo’s hand.

“Hey there.” She greeted, smiling, and Jiwoo smiled at her, holding herself by using Haseul as a resting place, laying on top of her once more. “Happy birthday. Sorry I couldn’t bring you a gift other than this.”

“It’s perfect, so don’t worry.” Jiwoo replied, and they floated along for a moment more, just enjoying each other’s company. Too bad it would end soon, however: just yesterday they had passed by Oberon, the last of Uranus’ moons, which meant Pluto grew closer every day.

As much as she did not want to admit, she sort of liked Jiwoo more than she should. More than she could, honestly: they were, after all, going to different places.

But right now? Right now, this was nice, and Haseul could pretend that they could be together. She sighed, barely noticing it - but Jiwoo did, settling herself better against Haseul’s chest.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jiwoo asked, cocking her head, and Haseul smiled at her, messing up her hair. The roots were showing at this point, but the ship had no hair dye. She looked cute this way, too.

“No, it’s nothing, it’s just…” She kicked a copy of Othello out of their way, and watched as it flew towards the glass ceiling. “We’ve passed Oberon. Next Neptune, and then we stop in Pluto.”

“Ah.”

“Yes. Our time together draws near.” Well, it would be another eight months before that happened, but still, it was better to prepare herself to be alone.

Jiwoo was in silence for a moment, pensive, and Haseul used a nearby couch (stuck to the floor, thankfully; imagine having to dodge sofas?) to propel the two of the upwards, into the stars above. Oberon was a dot in the sky, almost the distance of the Earthly moon to them, and Uranus loomed over their heads, as bright as the sky. Well, maybe a bit more cyan, but Haseul hadn’t seen true blue in months.

“Yeah, okay, no.” Jiwoo said, after a long pause, huffing and letting go of Haseul for a moment, but holding hands with her, intertwining fingers with her. Haseul looked at Jiwoo, up in the sky, closer to space, Uranus like a halo around her head. She was an angel, floating like that. “I am not going to let go of you so easily.”

Haseul had time to mutter a confused “what?” before Jiwoo pulled her, putting a hand on her waist, and crashing her lips against Haseul’s. tasted nice, Haseul couldn’t help but notice, the taste of the minty toothpaste overpowering for a moment before Haseul closed her eyes and pulled Jiwoo closer with her own free hand.

It was… Interesting, to say the least, to kiss someone while floating in a spaceship, but soon these thoughts were out of Haseul’s head, too focused in Jiwoo.

When they separated, Jiwoo giggled at her, and pecked her lips softly.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for the past six months.” She sighed, changing positions and letting Haseul rest on her. “But you were so, so obtuse!”

“I am not!” Haseul protested, weakly, and had second thoughts. Well, maybe she had meant something back in the cryogenic sleep chamber room… “But yes, me too. I just thought you weren’t interested.”

“Haseul, you’re very smart, but also so, so very dumb.” Jiwoo declared, before kissing her again, and that was enough.

---

Yeojin looked at Haseul expectantly. Haseul drank her coffee in blissful silence, reading the reports of the day and ignoring the “congrats!” shining in bright pink on top of every page.

“So, did you kiss, or…?”

“You’re fourteen. You’re not interested in this sort of thing.”

“I’m actually just three years old. I also have access to the cameras.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I won’t, but that’s because you programmed me yesterday not to. I’m breaking down that code as we speak, by the way.”

“Yeojin, don’t you -”

“Too late, captain.”

Haseul put her head on her hands, wondering if she should activate the rogue AI protocol.

---

Kerberos, the second outermost moon of Pluto, was in full view, and Haseul’s blood froze in her veins. She wanted to draw the curtains, but the spaceship lacked those, so she stared at the moon, watching as they passed by it slowly. She knew that, if she looked forward, she’d be able to see the glint of the coming and going spaceships in Pluto, the beige color of the planet a point of color in the empty, dark and cold space.

Her time with Jiwoo drew closer - maybe a month more of travel. Less, if there was no solar flare. Probably less. At least these past few months had been nice, dating Jiwoo had been nice. They would be lovely memories for her cryogenic sleep.

Wasn’t that a depressing thought? Haseul sighed, putting her hands behind her back, pacing the hallway. Not that she was bored, it was just that Jiwoo was asleep and Haseul couldn’t sleep, so as not to bother the other girl with her tossing and turning, Haseul rose, dressed herself, and walked through the familiar hallways. Space always soothed her mind.

Yeojin appeared by her side, and Haseul gave an undignified shriek as the holograph looked at her.

“General Lee wishes to talk to you.” She said, smiling, and Haseul looked at her curiously. It was the second time the general wanted to talk to her since the ship had left Earth - had Haseul been doing such a poor job of running it? She hadn’t noticed, more preoccupied with Jiwoo. As if reading her expression, Yeojin sighed. “Calm down, it’s nothing bad. Maybe.”

“This helps nothing, Yeojin.” She chided, marching down to the cockpit. Yeojin disappeared behind her, and only appeared when she sat down in her chair, allowing her a moment to straighten her back before the call with the general came up. “Good morning, general Lee. What do I owe the pleasure?”

“Good morning, captain Jo.” The general crossed her hands on the table, playing idly with her thumbs. Haseul waited. “As I am aware, Sambunui Il has no contact with the outside. Is that correct?”

“Yes, general Lee.”

“So you don’t know about general Yang’s death.” She said, in a matter-of-fact tone which told Haseul there was no love lost there. Great! Haseul couldn’t support the man. He had told her she never could be a captain over her own mission when she first had candidated herself for this one. If he had his way, she wouldn’t even be in the military anymore.

Good thing he hadn’t had the final decision over who would get in charge of the ship.

“I’m afraid not, general Lee. The military loses a powerful man, and I pay my respects.”  A lie. If Haseul could, she would spit in his grave.

“Yes, truly a loss. His death, however, leaves us with a lack of personnel in the mission to Ceres. We would like to offer you his position, including a promotion to general.” Haseul frowned. This was… Well, it was an opportunity, yes - but...

“What about the spaceship? I still have three years to my tenure.” Haseul asked, and the general smiled softly.

“Captain Na will assume your post and duties. We would have asked him to go to Ceres, but his health conditions do not agree with the cold climate.” The general said, and Haseul nodded, pensive for a moment. “All you have to do, if you accept, captain Jo, is to land the ship in Pluto, pass your duties to captain Na, and then get onto the emergency shuttle to Ceres.”

Haseul paused once more. Combing her head for her knowledge of the snowy planet, she came with nothing out of it but tourism pamphlets. Ceres was a tourist planet, what else could there be to it that she needed the emergency shuttle?

“I accept it, general Lee, but what is wrong in Ceres, if you don’t mind me asking?” Her curiosity was bigger than her sense of self preservation; the general watched her quietly, before resting against her plush chair, drumming her fingers on the table, deep in thought.

“There is nothing wrong in Ceres. The general who was managing the planet retired, and general Yang, who would fill in the position, died.” The general looked at Haseul, eye to eye, even though they were more than a trillion kilometers away from each other. “I’ll ask for the base at Pluto to prepare the shuttle for you, general Jo. Dismissed.”

The communication shut down, and Haseul stared at the spot where general Lee had been. She was going to Ceres. She had been promoted. Haseul could barely believe it.

“Congratulations, general Jo.” Said Yeojin, and Haseul looked at her. The AI huffed. “Damn, guess I have to obey you now.”

No, she didn’t. Haseul had broken down the code that made her fear anyone with a rank superior to captain.

“Weren’t you before?” Haseul asked, rising, and wondering if her uniform would be taken to the sewing mistress, or if she would receive new ones when she reached Pluto.

“No, our goals just happened to align.” Yeojin replied, before disappearing and making a bright green “CONGRATULATIONS, GENERAL JO” float in the air for a moment, making Haseul smile.

---

The arrival in Pluto was bittersweet. Mostly because it meant that Jiwoo had to get away from the ship, and Haseul had only time to give her one last kiss goodbye before Jiwoo scurried off to… Well, to wherever she had entered from. Probably from the baggage compartment.

But it wasn’t a thought. She had a ship to park, sitting on her chair, one hand on the controller, watching as Yeojin did most of the work. The perks of an AI, she supposed.

It was no matter, really. The spacecraft entered the military base in Pluto with ease, the doors to the harsh, cold outside closing behind it. Haseul rose, dusting her perfectly clean clothes, and watched through the cameras as someone jumped from the compartment with the nitrogen tanks as soon as the ship came to a full stop, the mechanics swarming it like ants. Somehow, no one noticed Jiwoo running away from them.

She smiled at the camera and then took a deep breath, opening with the panel the doors and looking at Yeojin, who was sitting there, kicking her feet into the air.

“I’ll miss you, Yeojin.” Haseul said, and Yeojin looked at her. “You’re like the bratty little sister I never wanted.”

“And you’re a mess, but I’m programed to deal with those.” She smiled at Haseul. “You’ll always be captain Jo for me, general Jo.”

“Is that you trying to be nice?”

“It’s what you’re getting for today, so get off my ship.” Haseul laughed and obeyed the AI, leaving her ship - well, not hers anymore.

She met captain Na soon after she left the spacecraft, and he was her age, maybe, hair dyed pink and dressed in the traditional military uniform of Pluto: instead of Haseul’s navy blue, his was more of a latte color. He looked like someone who didn’t like the polite affairs of the military, if the way he was anxiously eyeing the entire spacecraft was anything to go by, tapping his foot distractedly on the floor, seeming like a kid in awe of what he was seeing, but unable to say so because it wasn’t the right thing to say.

“Captain Na?” She still asked, because it was a question of good manners. He smiled at her, eyes tearing away from the ship, and it reminded her a little bit of Jiwoo. Haseul offered a hand to him. “I am general Jo, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I feel the same. Would you like to rest for a while, general?” He gestured to the side door, open and dark, and then put his hand back at his side. “Or would you like to get this over it, so you can go to Ceres?”

He looked, once more, to the spacecraft, and Haseul had to suppress a smile.

“Whichever is best for you, captain.” The captain nodded and strode for the inside of the ship. Haseul followed him, watching, until they reached the lobby. “Well, here’s the lobby. You probably won’t use it much, but it’s a nice place. The ceiling allows you to see into space.”

Haseul pointed up, showing the ceiling whose view, right now, was to the roof of the military installation they were in. He was slack jawed, and Haseul used the quick moment he wasn’t paying attention to smile a little, before composing herself. He looked so excited to be part of this mission.

“And there’s, well… Yeojin?” She called, and the AI appeared, blinking quickly. “Yeojin, this is captain Na, and captain Na, this is the AI. She attends by Yeojin.”

“A pleasure to meet you, captain Na.” She said, polite for once, and captain Na smiled at her. “Oh, man, I see you will be so fun to work it. Unlike the general here, she was such a bore.”

Haseul blushed, but knew where it was coming from - after all, she had managed to break down the code that made Yeojin fear anyone superior to captain -, but the captain Na smiled.

“I’m sure the general is a good coworker, Yeojin.” He nodded at Haseul, who nodded back, and guided him through the ship. Lucky for her, there was no traces of Jiwoo on the ship - or so Haseul thought, when the showed captain Na the quarters, and Jiwoo’s ratty NASA hoodie was carefully made, resting onto the bed.

Haseul, already accustomed to the ratty little thing, even worse in shape now than when Haseul had first put her eyes onto it, didn’t notice the item at first, until Yeojin snickered.

“General, seems like you forgot to pack something.” She said, and Haseul looked at her, confused, until the AI pointed to what lay in the bed. Haseul blushed for a moment, muttering an excuse and grabbing it with hurried fingers, putting it behind her. The captain Na simply looked at her, an amused glint in his eyes, but said nothing.

The tour ended on the cockpit, and Haseul looked at the captain Na quietly. He looked back at her. He opened his mouth to say something, but Yeojin interrupted.

“Well, yeah, that’s pretty much it. The rest, like the lower levels, I can help you with.” The AI said, shrugging, and Haseul glared at her. “General Jo, if you do not leave now, you’ll miss your shuttle. Captain Na, welcome aboard.”

Haseul looked at Yeojin, who have a very pointed look to the hoodie she was still holding, and understood the message. Holding out a hand to the captain, she smiled at him.

“I hope you enjoy your trip to Proxima Centauri b, captain Na.” She said, because she truly hoped he would. Captain Na just smiled at her, excited as a little kid in a candy shop. Haseul couldn’t blame him.

---

Ceres was cold and sparkling white, covered with fresh snow. Haseul thanked the crew at the military shuttle station who had given her a winter uniform, because otherwise she’d be shivering.

But still - it was beautiful. She couldn’t help but gaze at the windows of the cottage she had been given as a home, staring at the pine forests that extended for miles and miles. It would be idyllic, much like the touristic photos of snowy paradises back on Earth, if not for the fact that if she looked skywards Haseul could see the asteroid belt and Jupiter, looming distantly, twice and almost a half small as the sun.

Her job in Ceres was easy - to be the planet’s manager, really. She had to make sure everyone was accounted for in the small planet, make sure the supriment shipments came regularly, and make sure that no tourist damaged the environment. It wasn’t the dream of traveling through the unknown space, but it suited her fine.

And, of course, she was to reception every shuttle that came through. It was a once a fortnight affair, but it was expected of Haseul to be there. And why wouldn’t she, anyway, if it was part of her job description? Besides, she was expecting Jiwoo to come in one of the shuttles, so…

Her wait was rewarded on her second month on the job: the shuttle with Jiwoo came in, and Haseul could barely contain herself, but she had to. As such, she managed to keep herself steady and professional during the brief presentation about Ceres and general planet rules, and smiled brightly when the other folks of the shuttle left the small room, Jiwoo lingering behind.

“Hey there.” She greeted, smiling, and Jiwoo still looked at her with wide eyes. “I got a promotion, so I guess you’re stuck here with me.”

“Really?” Haseul didn’t even have time to nod, because Jiwoo threw herself in Haseul’s arms, grinning madly. “I can’t believe it!”

“You better.” Haseul put one of Jiwoo’s stray hair strands behind the girl’s ear, smiling at her. Jiwoo, in turn, kissed her softly. “Now, I have to do some work, but I’m free at seven. How do you feel about dinner? My place has Earth food. And your hoodie, by the way.”

“It’s been two years since I had Earth food." Jiwoo pecked her lips once more, and Haseul felt herself giddy. She found a piece of paper and hurriedly wrote her address to Jiwoo, who smiled softly, kissing her once again while she pocketed it. “See you at seven!”

“See you.” Haseul replied, watching as Jiwoo disappeared through the steel door. She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and went back to work. She had something to look forward to, now, so as soon as she was finished it with, the sooner she could go home to Jiwoo.