It was a long, convoluted walk from the medical wing to the dorms. Aerie station was big, partially from contracting accords with Casoban, and partly from the inheritance from Westwel’s program. They passed through the long, curving hall of full of patient rooms, all of them occupied—even Quinn’s had been filled by the time they’d finished their meeting with Follen. Soldiers, all, the scant few who had managed to hold out until Dragon’s descent. It didn’t smell like blood, here, but it did smell like the sterility that came from cleaning it. 

They passed through the garden commons, a cavernous oval room of four stories, all connected by a tiered central platform of discs. They surrounded a tree reached from the earthen basin at the bottom, all the way to the ceiling, where its branches fanned out and down like the hood of a parasol. Its leaves were Runan pastels, fanned and intertwined such that they seemed painted on. 

People stopped to stare at them as they went. Whispers, muted shock. Their words were incomprehensible, but there didn’t seem to be an ounce of vitriol among them. Pity overwhelming, and then the gasps of concern by those who caught sight of the plugs on her back. 

The platform branched into walkways and stairs and escalators. They passed lifts labeled [i]Engineering[/i], [i]Command[/i], [i]Hangar[/i]. There were rows of vending machines, a few shops, even a trio of restaurants. Windowed walls showed large rooms for exercise, recreation, a sodded hall filled with tables and benches, shaded by smaller pastel trees. 

It was almost a town in its own right. Which made sense in a way—plenty of these people spent years at a time up here. It wasn’t home, it wasn’t particularly close, either, but it was a shade of civilization. 

Besca led her down a hall long hall labeled: [i]Dormitories[/i], and then through a door that needed her to swipe a card before it opened, labeled: [i]Pilot Quarters[/i]. This was much smaller, a fairly narrow walkway that branched left and right. The right path led to a lift that read: [i]Hangar[/i]. The left to a door. 

She stopped, there, and knelt down next to Quinn. Without a word she drew the girl in close and hugged her, tight, almost as tightly as Quinn had. She didn’t let go for some time. 

“[color=gray]I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve any of this, and I’m going to do everything I can to get you out of it without sending you home. I promise. But until then you have to do this.[/color]” she sighed, long and deep. “[color=gray]This is gonna be hard, Quinn. It’s gonna be so hard, and it’s gonna be scary, and sometimes it’s gonna hurt. I’m sorry. It’s…it’s just how it is. I’m sorry. But you’re not gonna be alone, you got it? Not for a second. Even when it seems like it. Even when it’s dark, and cold, and you feel like there’s no one else in the world—I’m gonna be there. I’m gonna be with you. Remember that.[/color]”

Then she got back up, took another deep breath, and led them in. 

The outside was deceptive, the inside was spacious. They entered a large common room, easily as wide as a house on its own, with a high ceiling and windows on the walls. Windows? Behind them was a faintly-clouded, star-studded virtual sky. Gentle moonlight spilled in through the glass, diffused when Besca turned the overheads on. 

Off in one corner was a kitchen with a wide array of equipment, rows upon rows of drawers and cupboards, a pair of refrigerators, an oven, and on and on. In another were TV screens, entertainment systems, and beside that, a glass door leading to a small exercise room. An array of plush couches and chairs took the center, around a wide, circular coffee table. 

There were still cups on it, plates with crumbs at least a week old. 

Along each wall were a trio of doors, some of which were blank, three of which had little signs posted to them. 

[u][b]H. GHAUST[/b][/u]

[u][i]*~SAFFY~*[/i][/u]

[u][i]DAHLIA ST. SENN[/i][/u]

There was an almost palpable silence. 

Dahlia’s door was cracked open. The inside was dark, but even from here it was clear there was no one inside. 

“[color=gray]I’ll be right in there,[/color]” Besca said, pointing to a door on a wall without any signs. “[color=gray]I’m gonna leave my door open, and I’m gonna leave the lights on in here. If you need anything, you come right across and get me—doesn’t matter what time it is.[/color]”

She gestured to the other doors. “[color=gray]You pick any room you want, you can change to another one any time you want. Tomorrow we’ll worry about settling in more, get you some real clothes. Okay?[/color]” 

She put a hand on Quinn’s cheek, rubbed off the tear streaks with her thumb. She smiled sadly. “[color=gray]Try and get a little rest. I know it might be hard, but it’s important. Goodnight, hun.[/color]”

Besca went to her room and, true to her word, left her door open as she flopped down onto the bed. 

Quinn stood alone in the common room, and for a while it was just her, and the quiet. This was her home now. Her new home, a thousand miles above the ruins of her old home. Tomorrow she’d have to fight to keep her place in it, but for now there was nothing to fight. Nothing to run from. Nothing, it seemed, to fear. 

But there was [i]something[/i]. It was faint, and she’d have to strain to make it out, follow it to hear it clearly. But it was there, coming from behind the door labeled: [i]*~SAFFY~*[/i]. Soft, quiet. 

Crying.