“AAAAGGGHHHH!!!”

Screaming hurt my throat. But so did breathing, now. In fact, the list of parts of me that _didn’t_ hurt would be a much shorter list than those that do.

The small, orange creatures made in the image of a rat on an acid trip hissed and scattered. Bastards, all of them. Chewing up my bloodied clothes and pulling whatever scrap they could from my constantly dwindling rations.

It had been three days.

Three days of climbing. Three days of fighting. Three days of pain.

Three days since PK 456932b was visible from the bridge. Three days since the capacitor malfunctioned.

And four days since our engineer died from a mysterious illness that the medic couldn’t pinpoint.

“STAY AWAY!” What point was there to screaming at non-sapient vermin? Who knows. Maybe it had to do with the rage simmering just beneath my skin. Maybe it was the grief. Maybe they just deserved my ire, the thieving beasts.

I remember seeing the stars for the first time. Not from Earth, but up close—not _that_ close, obviously! Considering I’m not burned alive yet.

Back before my joints commented on the weather. I had no goal, no dream. My parents were worried. I was worried.

But Janine was never worried.

Janine stuck by my side for years; prompting me to adventure with her to the nearest museums or to the junkyard in hopes of finding some sort of abandoned bits to fix the android we’d had laying on our dining table for months.

When she was accepted as a botany student at Wayword Flight School, I panicked. I panicked so hard that I managed to pass a test and enroll in the communications course in that very same school.

It wasn’t easy; I was never academically gifted. But Janine wished for the stars and, in a way, so did I. It just so happened that my star was named Janine.

Life in space wasn’t something I had imagined for myself and yet our skin wrinkled and our bones ached and Janine’s red hair grew grey.

When I said I wanted to see her hair red again, I meant the ginger she was born with. Not the smeared remnants of our crewmates.

My hand tightened around my bag strap and I looked up at the mountain ahead of me. The gravity on this planet was lighter than what I was used too but the climb was exhausting nonetheless.

_“Warning! 1 hour of oxygen left!”_

The oddly cheery voice rattled in my helmet and I’m ashamed to say that my eyes began to water.

Could I even make it in an hour?

Slamming my broken toe against the next ledge up, I decided that it didn’t matter. I wouldn’t be leaving anyway.

The top of the mountain held a view I could only imagine in a dream. Bright pinks, oranges, and greens radiated over the horizon.

_“Warning! 2 minutes of oxygen left!”_

__

__

Right. There was one last thing to do.

I sat across the flattest part of the mountain top, my bones creaking and my back protesting. The soil here was softer than I thought it would be. All the same, that makes it easier to accomplish one last task.

My hands shook as I dug out a small hole into the orange soil. They shook as I pulled out the handkerchief from my pack. And they shook as I buried the Krionisk seed into the soil.

It was some sort of tree or bush or… something! But Janine loved them. She had cups, bowls, and statues made from the pink wood. Teas from the leaves. And, when they were lucky enough to successfully nurture the plant, fruit for the holidays.

My helmet spat alarms and I clicked the releases and pulled it from my head. The air wasn’t toxic, but it wouldn’t support an oxygen-dependent being like me.

I laid my head down and placed my hand over the slightly raised earth. If I closed my eyes, I could see Janine smiling, clasping my hand in return.

“… I’m the luckiest guy, you know? I got to be so close to a star and, even if I’m burning now, it was all worth it…”