No one talks about Harkon, no one, not even me. Harkon *was* a nice place to live as a kid, before everyone left. I don’t know why, no one ever told me, or anyone really. One day the night sky turned silver. Then everyone left. Just like that. The littlest kids don’t even know what Harkon really was, all they remember was moving, but I remember Harkon, I was twelve when I left.

Harkon was the most beautiful planet I’ve ever been on, and I’ve been on a fair few in my years. Al’qua was beautiful too, but the black dunes and tan mountains with red bands, and the towering violet cati with the most beautiful flowers, but Al’qua’s real beauty was under the surface. It had these lovely glowing crystals in the water that would just breach the water’s surface. It didn’t compare. Not to the ocean of trees in the wilds, not to the forest of kelp just off the rocky coast, not to the crystal caves spanned by lattice like bridges.

That was a lifetime ago. When father was still well enough to teach me and my brother how to fight with melee weapons. He would use a sword and shield and he'd fight the two of us off like the masterful warrior he was.

Bradly died during his service, it was during some kind of a quarantine campaign. The body was never returned, confiscated by the Health Electorate for testing. It tore father apart, Bradly was twice the man I was, bolder, stronger, kinder, and far more pious. I joined a campaign with the chaplaincy after my service, nothing short of a holy war in some far flung corner of the Sagittarius arm, but that’s not important.

What is though is what happened after I joined a  mixer merchant as an apprentice, the old man wanted kids more than anything, and I guess I became that surrogate for a time, he came to call me “boy and son” his wife did too, but it wasn’t as natural. I spent the rest of my twenties sailing around the stars with Old Man Nick.

He passed what feels like yesterday, and I rang in my thirties with tears, as both Nick and Ruthen had passed in their sleep. I gave them the funeral they asked for. “Bury me at Al’qua. Keep the boat sonny.” is all it read. The thing was Al’qua was one of the few remaining Shia places in the whole universe, and when you landed you presented the day old bodies, the Imam thanked me, and had me dig the graves as they prepared the funeral.

The bodies were laid to rest in colorful linens, soon after there was a feast I was welcome to. The thing was, there was no pork, no shellfish, no alcohol, things typical in a Harkon funeral. I left in the night with no farewell, but with closure.

And that’s where I am now. Just above Al’qua.

I stare down at the planet of black, red, tan, violet, and white. I light one of the cigars I bought on new cuba, taking a long drag as I let the match burn between my fingers. Something other than silence is welcome in my book. I give the planet one last look before turning away and letting the engines roar.

The abyss was once such a scary thing, cold, lonely, and deadly, I had failed to understand it’s majesty then. Now, now I am less naive, less fearful, and less, just, less.

The engines burn letting the whole ship rumble as it gets ever so slightly warmer. A button labeled AutPilot chirps as it's pressed and an SD card slow shoots out. With a click it locks in and I retreat to the old captain’s suite.