Never Lost, Always Here
19 Dec 2024Rawnu
Mountain air. Crisp, with the sharpness of impending winter lingering at its edges. A proper gravity well pressing down on me—not from thrust, not from spin, but from the one G that only Earth can give. The red haze of reentry had barely cleared the cockpit of my trusted Gallifrey when the Alps came into view. Not from orbit, but from the thin blue of the atmosphere, not even 100 kilometers ahead. Behind me lay the Mediterranean, shimmering like a memory. Before me, solid rock, ancient and unyielding—the bones of the planet thrust skyward. The closer I flew, the further I fell back in time.Memories rushed to meet me: the scent of my mother’s embrace, the rasp of my father’s stubble against my cheek. The hum of bumblebees weaving through summer air, the distant roar of a river tumbling through green valleys.
I am... home?
“Is that you, Alex? By the stars, it is you, Alisia's and Rawnu's little one!” That voice—a little more gravel in it now, but unmistakable. Before I could respond, Marika emerged, or more accurately, launched herself toward me. Marika, who once taught me to whistle bawdy tunes she’d picked up during her youth working starports in Genova. She closed the distance faster than I could brace, throwing her arms around me with such force that my slender frame nearly buckled.
“Marika, stop! You’ll get the prodigal child killed before they’ve had a chance to say hello properly.”
Her face tilted up to meet mine—Marika was never the tallest—and she scoffed. “Prodigal? What nonsense, che sciocchezza! Du bisch nie verlore gsi...” Tears streamed down her face as her words hit me harder than her embrace. You were never lost. And as the warmth of the moment overwhelmed me, I realized she was right. I was always here, even when I wasn’t.
Before I could respond, the commune erupted into life around me. Faces emerged from doorways and paths like a flood—hands shaking, backs patting, cats weaving between legs. Familiar voices layered over one another, all asking questions or just marveling at my return. “Have you seen Urs and Matteo yet?” Marika asked. “They’re back from that Alliance cruiser, the one helping evacuees...” Her voice trailed off as she pointed toward the sky. “Most of us stayed underground, but the younger ones with children—well, they left. Just in case.”
Just in case.
They didn’t say it aloud, but I knew what they meant. Just in case Cocijo’s end became the nightmare I’d seen in my visions. And it nearly did. Some of the Titan’s debris burned up in the atmosphere, but not all of it. Large chunks crashed into the Pacific Northwest and Eastern Siberia, leaving destruction in their wake. The upper atmosphere is still chaotic, clogged with remnants that will disturb communications for who knows how long. But the true horror—the one I feared most—didn’t come to pass. For that, I am grateful.
The Alliance cruiser that helped them? That was my doing, a favor pulled from old contacts. Of course, the elders stayed—stubborn to the last—but Urs and Matteo had gone with their young family. They’d already returned, Marika said, waiting for me among the crowd. We were close as kids, the same age, sharing dreams and mischief. They stayed, they built a life, a family. I left.
“Come, Alex, we need to celebrate!” Marika’s voice rang out, and before I could protest, I was swept into the whirl of a spontaneous celebration. There was music, food, drink, and impromptu speeches—some railing against human hubris, particularly capitalism, and others praising resilience and survival. The older faces reminded me of my parents, their laughter sparking bittersweet memories. The younger ones looked at me with wide-eyed curiosity. To them, I was almost a myth—a stranger who fought Titans, a Commander of the Pilots’ Federation, leader of the Neon Frontier squadron. Even I barely recognized myself in their awe.
I’ve decided to stay for a while. The galaxy can wait. It’s been so long since I last stood on solid ground like this, and every passing moment reminds me both why I left... and why Marika was right: I was never lost. This place is in my bones as much as the rock beneath my feet.
The mountains are calling, though. My mother’s favorite spots, high above the valleys, untouched by anything but wind and time. She used to say that in the mountains, as in the void, your true self is revealed. I’ve been searching for that self in the stars, but maybe the answers have always been here, waiting for me to come back.
The stars aren’t going anywhere. And whatever Cocijo’s final wail stirred between them will reveal itself in its own time. For now, I will listen to the Earth—the hum of rivers, the buzz of bees, and the shrewd wisdom of these people here. My people. I’ll carry that with me when I return to the black. But not yet. Not today. Today, I am home.