04 April 2039 – Baffin Bay Spaceport, Kenedy County, Texas

The tension in the conference room was almost palpable.

The usual hum of Ad Astra’s bustling spaceport operations seemed distant, muffled by the weight of the conversation behind closed doors. Sabrina sat at the long table with her arms crossed, her black flight suit still faintly creased from a morning spent running simulations. Across from her, Mandy and Alex sat side by side, reviewing documents on their tablets, while Beth stood by the window, arms crossed, watching the endless Texas horizon. Beth finally turned.

“Campbell isn’t letting this go.”

“Of course, he isn’t,” Sabrina sighed.

Beth tossed a file onto the table.

“As I’ve told y’all, he’s officially filed a complaint with the DoD. Claims y’all assaulted him ‘unprovoked’ and that your leadership in the Air National Guard has been reckless. He’s using every connection he has left to make it stick.”

“That’s rich coming from a guy who got decked because he lunged at Sabrina like a rabid dog,” Mandy snorted.

“And let me guess?” Alex asked while adjusting his glasses. “He’s framing this as some high-level vendetta and painting himself as the victim?”

“Exactly,” Beth answered with a nod. “He’s not just trying to bury Sabrina – he’s coming after Ad Astra itself.”

That got everyone’s attention. Sabrina sat forward.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Campbell is pushing the narrative that Ad Astra is reckless,” Beth replied as her lips thinned. “That we lack ‘proper oversight.’ He’s implying that private spaceflight should remain secondary to NASA and the government. If enough people listen, it could make investors hesitate. It could make NASA hesitate.”

“So it’s not just about me,” Sabrina said as her jaw tightened. “It’s about making sure Ad Astra doesn’t overshadow him or the old system.”

Beth nodded.

“That’s exactly it. If he can’t have power, he’ll burn everything down trying to stop us.”

A heavy silence settled over the room. Then Mandy leaned back in her chair, a slow, mischievous grin forming.

“Well, if he wants to play dirty,” she said, “let’s see how he likes it when the skeletons in his closet start dancing.”

“What do you have?” Sabrina asked as her brows rose.

“I started digging the second I heard Campbell push for this meeting.” Mandy opened her tablet and spun it around. “It turns out he’s got a history of burying complaints against himself – harassment, favoritism, even a few ‘drunk-on-duty’ reports that mysteriously vanished. And get this – he tried to force at least three promising pilots from the 71st and his previous units out of the service for questioning his leadership.”

“Y'all have proof?” Beth’s smirk returned.

“Copies of complaints, old incident reports, even some internal memos meant to be deleted but weren’t,” Mandy said while she tapped the screen. “Turns out that of the pilots he tried to force out, at least three were promising pilots from the 71st and his previous units for questioning his leadership.”

“So we’re not just defending ourselves,” Sabrina said while feeling a slow burn of satisfaction in her chest. “We’re flipping this.”

“Exactly,” Beth nodded. “We make him the liability. We don’t just clear y’all’s name, Sabrina – we make sure he can never do this to anyone else again.” Alex leaned in. “The best part? The media’s already circling. If we time this right, the truth will hit before he can spin another lie.”

Sabrina exhaled, rolling her shoulders back as her older brother smiled a predatory smile at her.

“Then let’s do it.”

Three weeks later, the internet erupted. A leaked report made its way onto aerospace forums, military whistleblower blogs, and the mainstream press. It detailed Campbell’s history: complaints buried, careers sabotaged, misconduct ignored. The media latched onto it instantly. Sabrina sat in her office, watching the fallout unfold on her screen. News anchors spoke in serious tones about ‘troubling allegations.’ Social media buzzed with outrage. More pilots came forward, their testimonies damning.

Then came the official response. The Department of Defense confirmed that an internal review was underway. NASA scrubbed Campbell’s name from its upcoming astronaut selection list. He was suspended, and his future as an astronaut was effectively over. Beth walked in, coffee in hand, with a rare look of satisfaction.

“Well, that’s the end of that problem.”

“It’s not just about him,” Sabrina said as she exhaled. “It’s about making sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“That’s why we keep Ad Astra ours,” Beth answered with another nod. “No one dictates what we do. No one tells us who is ‘worthy’ of going to space.”

Mandy poked her head in, grinning.

“Oh, and by the way? NASA just called. They’re officially severing ties with Campbell. He’s done.”

Sabrina leaned back.

“Good.”

Beth smirked.

“Now, about that next test flight …”

✦       ✧       ✦       ✧       ✦

That night, Sabrina returned home, exhaustion pulling at her but warmth waiting for her inside. Tom stood in the kitchen, holding Jeff in one arm while stirring a pot on the stove. Marisa sat at the table, intensely focused on a crayon drawing of a spaceship. The smell of spices and home-cooked comfort wrapped around her like a familiar embrace.

“Mommy!” Marisa called, dropping her crayon and running into her arms. Sabrina scooped her up, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Hey, sweet girl.”

Tom gave her a knowing look.

“Judging by your face, I’d say it’s over?”

Sabrina nodded, rubbing Jeff’s back as he cooed against her.

“Campbell’s done. Ad Astra’s stronger than ever.”

Tom kissed her temple.

“Then sit down, breathe, and enjoy dinner. You’ve earned it.”

As laughter filled the house, Sabrina felt something settle in her chest. No matter how high she flew or how fierce the battles were, this – her family – was her foundation, the reason she fought.

Sabrina stood on the tarmac at Baffin Bay Spaceport a week later, gazing at Astrum Plaustrum – Star Chariot – the next great leap forward. They’d use the English name for the SSTO to make it easier to say on the radio. Mandy, standing beside her, nudged her shoulder.

“Ready to show the world what we can do?”

Sabrina smirked.

“Always.”

Sabrina climbed into the cockpit, strapping herself in. Beside her, her co-pilot, Daniel Valerio, did the same. Then, the countdown began.

“Five … Four … Three …” She gripped the controls. “Two … One …”

The liquid deuterium engines roared to life, and Chariot shot into the sky, breaking free of the Earth below. Sabrina smiled as she left the chaos behind. This was just the beginning. The silence of space was absolute. Sabrina sat in the cockpit, her hands steady on the controls of Chariot as the SSTO settled into orbit. Below the Earth, a breathtaking blue and white swirl stretched endlessly beneath her. The view never got old. Daniel nodded to her.

“Control, this is Chariot. We have reached a stable orbit. All systems are nominal.”

“Copy that, Chariot,” the mission controller’s voice crackled over the radio, the usual edge of authority softened by satisfaction. “Looking good up there, Raikou.”

Sabrina smirked at the familiar callsign.

“Hey, it’s what I do,” Sabrina answered, in contradiction to how she usually responded to something like that.

Her mission wasn’t just another test flight. This was proof that private spaceflight wasn’t just possible – it was superior. NASA had spent decades working toward this kind of single-stage-to-orbit capability. Ad Astra had done it. Sabrina leaned back in her seat, letting the moment wash over her. It wasn’t just about proving Campbell wrong or cementing Ad Astra’s reputation – it was about the future. Marisa, Jeff, and every kid were going to grow up in a world where space was no longer a distant dream but a tangible, reachable frontier. The mission controller’s voice returned.

“Raikou, let’s run through the orbital maneuver tests. We’ll start with pitch and yaw response, then move into controlled burns.”

“Roger that, Control.”

Sabrina’s hands moved over the controls with practiced ease. The ship responded like a dream, a testament to the engineering brilliance of Mandy, Alex, and the entire Ad Astra team. Thirty minutes later, after executing flawless maneuvers, she checked her mission clock. Their orbit was nearly complete. Time to head home.

“Control, beginning deorbit burn in sixty-seven seconds.”

The room was packed with engineers, executives, and representatives from various aerospace agencies. Monitors tracked Chariot’s descent trajectory while real-time data streamed across massive displays. Mandy and Alex stood near the front, watching intently.

“She’s coming in hot,” Alex muttered, adjusting his glasses. Mandy smirked.

“She likes coming in hot.”

“She is hot!” Tom answered in return.

Beth glanced at them all but said nothing. Her eyes were fixed on the descent data. Outside, reporters gathered at the edge of the spaceport, cameras rolling. The world was watching. The ship hit the atmosphere at Mach Twenty-Five, glowing bright white as its heat shielding deflected the intense friction.

Sabrina and Daniel stayed focused, making minor adjustments as the G-forces built up. The ship held steady, and Mandy and Alex’s new thermal management system worked flawlessly. They transitioned to atmospheric flight at fifty thousand feet, banking gently toward Baffin Bay.

“Control, this is Chariot. On final approach.”

“Copy, Chariot. Winds five knots from one-four-niner. You are cleared to land on Runway One-Five.”

Sabrina eased the ship down. The multi-bogie landing gear deployed, and the tires kissed the tarmac with a smoothness that made the control room erupt into applause. They had done it.

“Mission complete.”

As Sabrina and Daniel climbed down from the cockpit, the entire Ad Astra team awaited. Mandy reached Sabrina first, clapping her on the shoulder.

“Not bad for a flyboy.”

Sabrina grinned and answered, “Not bad for an engineer.”

Beth joined them, nodding in approval.

“NASA, the DoD, and half the aerospace world just watched y’all prove everything we’ve been working for. No one can question us now.”

Before she could respond, a smaller figure pushed through the crowd.

“Mommy!” Sabrina barely had time to kneel before Marisa barreled into her arms. “You flew in space!” Marisa beamed, eyes wide with wonder. Sabrina hugged her daughter tight.

“That I did, sweetheart.”

Tom approached, carrying Jeff, who babbled happily.

“You keep setting the bar higher,” Tom said, kissing her cheek. Sabrina smirked.

“Gotta keep you on your toes.”

As she stood with her family, watching her team celebrate, she felt that the future was not just coming – they were building it. The celebration of Chariot’s flawless return had barely settled before the next challenge loomed on the horizon. Sabrina stood in the main hangar of Ad Astra, arms crossed, watching as engineers swarmed the spacecraft, running post-flight diagnostics. Beth, Mandy, and Alex stood beside her. The moment of triumph had been sweet, but the weight of the future was pressing down fast.

Beth spoke first.

“We have confirmation – the ‘Artemis Coalition’ wants a formal meeting.”

Sabrina turned.

“That was fast.”

“They’re not wasting any time,” Alex added, pushing his glasses up. “They’ve seen what Sidera and Chariot can do. They’re interested.”

“‘Interested?’” Mandy huffed, arms crossed. “Try ‘desperate.’ NASA’s Prometheus is still grounded because of that coolant issue. ESA’s heavy-lift vehicle is two years behind schedule. The Artemis Coalition is out of options, and we just proved that Ad Astra is the only player in the game who can deliver … now.”

Sabrina exhaled slowly, processing the implications.

“Which means they’ll want control,” she mused. Beth nodded.

“Most likely. Government contracts mean oversight, bureaucracy – everything we’ve been trying to avoid.”

Sabrina turned back to Chariot. The spacecraft gleamed under the hangar lights, a testament to what private spaceflight had accomplished without interference. But the Artemis Coalition’s offer could accelerate everything – funding, infrastructure, political legitimacy. Mandy saw the hesitation in her eyes.

“You’re thinking about it,” she said.

“I’m considering all the angles,” Sabrina countered. “Beth built Ad Astra to be independent. But if we want to push beyond orbit eventually – beyond the Moon, beyond Mars – we need more than what we have now.”

A silence fell between them. The unspoken truth hung heavy in the air. Beth broke it first.

“The Artemis Coalition is meeting in Washington next week. If we go, it’ll be as equals, not subordinates.”

Sabrina gave a slight nod.

“Then let’s make sure they understand that.”

The Artemis Summit was a spectacle of power. Officials from NASA, ESA, Russia’s Roscosmos, and a dozen other agencies gathered in a sleek, glass-walled conference hall overlooking downtown Washington. Sabrina walked in with Beth and Alex at her side. Ad Astra’s presence alone turned heads. A NASA representative, a woman in her late fifties with sharp eyes, gestured them toward the main table.

“Lieutenant Colonel Knox-Jones. Raikou,” she said, using Sabrina’s Air National Guard rank and callsign. “Welcome.”

Sabrina shook her hand firmly.

“Just ‘Sabrina’ will be fine.”

The discussions began diplomatically and formally. The coalition wanted Ad Astra’s technology and rapid innovation. They offered contracts, partnerships, and integration into the broader space effort. Sabrina listened. Beth negotiated, making it clear that Ad Astra wasn’t for sale. Sabrina leaned over midway through a long-winded proposal from the ESA director.

“They need us more than we need them,” she murmured.

“I know,” Beth replied.

Then came the turning point. A senior NASA administrator leaned toward Beth.

“We’re prepared to offer Ad Astra full mission autonomy for a joint lunar station initiative,” he said. “No oversight. No red tape. You operate your fleet under Ad Astra’s command, with Artemis providing infrastructure support.”

Listening via an earpiece back at Baffin Bay, Mandy nearly choked on her coffee. Sabrina kept her face unreadable.

“Y’all’re serious?”

The administrator nodded.

“NASA can’t afford another Prometheus-style failure. We’ve run the numbers. We need you.”

Sabrina exchanged a glance with Beth and Alex. This was it. Beth extended her hand.

“Y’all’ve got a deal.”

A year later, Sabrina sat at the helm of Astrum Magnus – Great Star, the next evolution of Ad Astra’s fleet – with her co-pilot, Ben Franks, beside her. They had launched from Ad Astra’s first space station, Stella Domum – Star Home – after refueling there. Outside her cockpit window, the silvered surface of the Moon stretched below, untouched and waiting. Behind her, the lunar lander detached, beginning its descent toward the surface. The first Ad Astra piloted mission to the Moon.

“Control, this is Magnus,” she said, watching the telemetry. “Eagle team is away.”

“Copy that, Magnus. Eagle team, you are go for a lunar landing.”

As the lander fired its thrusters, Sabrina exhaled. She had just landed the first US Space Force team to land on another planet, and that team would help build the Space Force’s first extraplanetary base. It would take a few years, but eventually, the base would have a runway for Ad Astra for landing their spaceplanes. The cheers in mission control still echoed in everyone’s minds. Astrum Magnus had delivered on its promise – the first privately operated lunar landing was complete, and Ad Astra had just changed the game again.

But for Beth, the work was just beginning. She and her supervisors moved through the command center with quiet authority, making sure every department remained focused in the aftermath of the mission. It was easy to let success breed complacency, and Beth wasn’t about to let that happen. She spotted Mandy and Alex near one of the engineering stations, locked in conversation. Mandy’s hands were flying in the air as she spoke, excitement evident.

“… we need a denser supercooling system. The deuterium’s efficiency is great, but we’re still losing too much residual heat on extended burns.”

Alex nodded, adjusting his glasses.

“Agreed. The lunar trip proved the concept, but we need tighter thermal regulation for deep-space travel. Otherwise, we’re going to hit diminishing returns on fuel conservation.”

Alex’s wife, Adriana, stood beside him, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

“You always talk fuel mechanics like it’s poetry,” she teased, but there was a warmth in her voice. She had been through enough of Alex’s late nights to know how much work had gone into making Ad Astra’s liquid deuterium system a reality.

“I assume you two are already planning the next iteration?” Beth asked with folded arms.

Mandy grinned.

“Oh, we’re way ahead of you, Boss. We’ve been running simulations since Magnus hit lunar orbit.”

Beth arched an eyebrow.

“All y’all couldn’t even wait for the landing to finish?”

Alex chuckled.

“Progress doesn’t like to wait, Boss.”

Adriana smirked.

“Neither does he. Trust me.”

Beth gave a slight nod of approval.

“Good. We’re not just proving we belong in space – we’re proving we’re leading!” She looked at Alex and Mandy as she added, “I trust y’all both to make sure we stay ahead.”

Mandy saluted mockingly.

“Yes, Ma’am!”

Beth rolled her eyes, but there was no mistaking the respect between them.

Sabrina arrived home to the scent of roasted garlic and tomatoes, a sure sign Tom was making something delicious. She stepped inside and was immediately greeted by Marisa, who threw herself into her mother’s arms.

“Mommy! You landed on the Moon!” Marisa squealed, eyes wide with admiration.

“Not quite, sweetheart,” Sabrina laughed, squeezing her daughter tight. “But my friends did.”

Tom leaned against the counter, his hand on Jeff’s head, while Jeff stared happily at the sight of his mother, slightly in awe.

“You’re becoming a legend, you know,” he said with a smile.

Sabrina rolled her shoulders, exhaustion beginning to creep in.

“Legends get a lot less sleep than I’d prefer.”

Tom walked over, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Then sit. Eat. Recharge.”

Sabrina felt a rare sense of calm as they settled in for dinner. The battles, politics, and endless push to keep Ad Astra independent were all worth it. At the end of the day, this was why she fought: her family, the future, a world where the stars belonged to everyone. And tomorrow, they would take another step closer.

Two weeks later, Beth found Sabrina at her desk. Sabrina was online, looking at progress images from the Space Force site of the first Moonbase.

“Y’all can’t help yourself, can y’all?” Beth said, her voice startling Sabrina.

“Just seeing how things are progressing.”

“‘A watched pot never boils …’”

“Beth, this is history! We delivered the first people to set foot on the Moon in almost seventy years! They’re building the first base on another planet!”

“Technically, the Moon isn’t a ‘planet,’ Sabrina …”

“Now you’re just teasing me!”

“Of course I am!” Beth laughed. Sabrina just stared at her. “Sabrina, y’all said it yourself: They’re building the first base on another planet! It won’t be long before they build Runway 04/22 for y’all to land one of our ships on! But I can tell y’all that it ain’t gonna happen fast enough!”

“What do you mean, exactly, Beth?”

“What I mean is, what do y’all think I was like when they built Baffin Bay? I try not to micromanage things around here, but I checked on this place CONSTANTLY while they built it!” Sabrina sighed and closed the tab on her browser. “Look, concentrate on making these aircraft and the pilots working for y’all the best anyone could ever hope for! Help me make Ad Astra the only choice when it comes to getting things into orbit!”

“Well, since we’re about the only game in town …” Sabrina said with a smile.

“Shut y’all’s hole, Yankee!” Beth said with another laugh, which helped calm her chief pilot.

No matter how wound tight any of her employees got, Beth Oldham knew how to calm them down. When Beth wasn't around, Tom took over that job, at least when it came to his wife.

Two months after Astrum Magnus had proven its worth in lunar orbit, Sabrina stood in Ad Astra’s main hangar, arms folded, watching the next leap forward come together. The engineers worked tirelessly around Astrum Titan, the next evolution of their fleet. Where Magnus had been designed for lunar operations, Titan had its sights set farther – Mars. Beth walked up beside Sabrina, her expression unreadable.

“Y’all really think we’re ready for this?” Beth asked, tilting her head toward the massive spacecraft. Sabrina smirked.

“We don’t have a choice. If we don’t push forward, someone else will try – and they won’t do it right.”

Beth snorted.

“Y’all sound like me now.”

“That’s the biggest compliment I’ve gotten all day.”

“How come y’all ain’t goin’ on this one?”

“I can’t right now,” Sabrina said. “Not until the kids get older. Plus, somebody else here needs a chance to be first at something – not just me.”

Mandy and Alex approached, deep in discussion. Alex had a tablet in hand, data scrolling rapidly across the screen.

“The reactor efficiency is holding steady,” Alex reported, adjusting his glasses. “We’ve minimized the heat bleed Mandy was worried about.”

“Damn right, I was worried,” Mandy said, running a hand through her hair. “Mars isn’t the Moon. A thermal regulation failure out there means ‘game over!’”

Sabrina nodded.

“Which is why we don’t fail.”

Beth crossed her arms.

“NASA and the Artemis Coalition already committed to supporting a Mars mission. If we pull this off, it will cement Ad Astra’s place in history. No one will ever question private spaceflight again.”

Sabrina turned back to Titan, her pulse steady despite the enormity of what they were attempting.

“Then let’s make history.”

The next year was dominated by Mars mission preparations. Training regimens intensified, and engineers refined every component of Titan. Simulations ran day and night. Sabrina was at the forefront of it all, balancing the demands of Ad Astra’s future with the quiet moments that reminded her why she fought so hard. One night, after a particularly grueling training session, she returned home to find Tom waiting with a cup of coffee.

“I figured you’d need this,” he said, handing it to her.

She took it gratefully, inhaling the rich aroma before taking a sip. Marisa was curled up on the couch, clutching a stuffed astronaut toy. Jeff was asleep in his new big-boy bed, his tiny breaths even and peaceful. Sabrina sat beside Tom, leaning into him.

“Do you ever think about how crazy this all is?”

Tom chuckled.

“You mean how the company we work for is leading humanity’s first mission to Mars? Yeah, it crosses my mind.” She smiled, closing her eyes for a moment. “I just … I want kids to grow up in a world where the stars aren’t just something they look at.”

Tom kissed her temple.

“Then help Ad Astra make it happen.”

The atmosphere was electric. Thousands of spectators lined the viewing areas. The world was watching. Sabrina sat in her chair in mission control, not Titan’s commander’s seat. The crew – mission commander Ben Franks, pilot Daniel Valerio, mission specialist Lena Ortega, and systems engineer Raj Patel – were strapped in and running through final checks.

“Astrum Titan, this is Control. You are go for launch.”

Sabrina took a deep breath, her hands steady on the mission control console in front of her.

“Copy, Control. Initiating launch sequence.”

The countdown began.

“Five … Four … Three … Two … One …”

The engines roared to life, and Titan surged away from Ad Astra’s space station, Star Home. It left Earth behind, whipped through the Moon’s gravity well and headed out, with nine months of travel ahead of them. As she imagined the noise and shockwaves pressing against her, Sabrina grinned. Mars was waiting. And Ad Astra was coming.

✦       ✧       ✦       ✧       ✦

Sabrina sat in Ad Astra’s control room, watching the live feed from the Moon. The first modules of the unnamed space base – the first permanent human outpost beyond Earth – were taking shape. Robotic cranes positioned massive prefabricated structures while astronauts in sleek new EVA suits moved across the dusty surface. It had taken years, but the base was finally becoming a reality.

“Beth, look at this,” Sabrina murmured, turning the screen toward her old friend.

Beth, standing with her ever-present cup of coffee, leaned in. Her sharp eyes softened just a fraction as she watched the Moon’s barren landscape become something new – something built by human hands.

“Y’all know,” Beth said, sipping her coffee, “if y’all’d told me twenty years ago that we’d be watching a live feed of our own Moonbase, I’d have laughed in y’all’s damn face.”

Sabrina smirked.

“And yet here we are.”

Beth exhaled, her expression shifting slightly.

“I know y’all had a chance to go.”

Sabrina’s fingers curled slightly on the desk. She had – NASA, the Artemis Coalition, and even Ad Astra itself had all wanted her to take the first step onto the Martian surface. But she had made her choice.

“I’ve spent my whole life chasing the sky,” she said, watching the lunar feed. “But if we’re going to build something that lasts, I need to be here.”

Beth didn’t argue. She just nodded.

“And the family?”

A warmth spread through Sabrina’s chest.

“They’re the reason I fight. And the reason I stayed.”

✦       ✧       ✦       ✧       ✦

Sabrina adjusted the straps of Marisa’s backpack as they stood outside the preschool. Marisa, now almost five years old, was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Mommy, are you sure I can’t go to the Moon when I turn ten?”

Sabrina chuckled.

“Not when you’re ten, sweetheart. But by the time you’re my age, who knows?”

Marisa huffed dramatically.

“That’s forever away!”

Tom smirked as he knelt beside Jeff, who was clinging stubbornly to his father’s leg.

“She gets that from you,” he said under his breath.

Sabrina rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t deny it. As they walked toward the preschool entrance, other parents glanced their way. It had taken years, but she was finally getting used to the recognition.

“Isn’t that Sabrina Knox-Jones?” she heard someone whisper.

“She’s the one who flew Chariot …”

“She almost went to Mars, you know …”

Sabrina had long since learned to tune it out. Her world wasn’t out there in the stars right now. It was here, in the warm squeeze of Marisa’s hand, in the way Jeff babbled happily as he looked up at her.

“See you after school, baby,” she said, pressing a kiss to Marisa’s forehead.

“Love you, Mommy!”

She and Tom watched as their daughter ran into the preschool’s yard, already talking a mile a minute to her friends. Tom took her hand.

“You okay?”

Sabrina exhaled.

“Yeah. Just … thinking.”

He squeezed her fingers.

“About going to the Moon?”

Sabrina glanced up at the sky, where the Moon was a pale ghost in the daylight.

“Always.”

Months passed, and the Moonbase grew. The first permanent living quarters were completed. Ad Astra engineers developed a new type of greenhouse that could sustain small crops in lunar gravity. The solar fields expanded. Sabrina watched it all from Ad Astra’s control center, sometimes with Beth, sometimes with Alex or Mandy, and sometimes alone. She never regretted her decision to stay, but some nights, when the house was quiet and her children were asleep, she would step outside and stare at the sky. The Moon had been humanity’s first step. Mars was the next. And beyond that …

‘There will always be something waiting beyond the horizon.’

✦       ✧       ✦       ✧       ✦

One evening, a message came through from the space base on the Moon. Beth patched it through to the main screen, and to Sabrina’s surprise, the face of Mariana Amengual, one of the astronauts she had helped train, appeared.

“Hey, Raikou,” Mariana grinned, her face illuminated by the glow of the Moon’s horizon. “You seeing this?”

The camera panned, showing a vast, leveled stretch of regolith – a future runway. Sabrina’s breath caught.

“That’s Runway 04/22,” Mariana confirmed. “It’s happening.”

Beth let out a low whistle.

“Damn.”

“Mandy’s voice came from behind them.

You know what this means, right?”

Sabrina nodded, her heart racing. It meant that, for the first time, a spaceplane – not just a lander – could land on the Moon. It meant Ad Astra could fly there and get back easily. One night, long after everyone else had gone home, Sabrina sat in her office, staring at the updated mission proposals for the first Ad Astra spaceplane to land on the Moon. Her name was still listed as the mission commander. She traced her fingers over the screen, feeling the pull. Then, she heard soft footsteps behind her. Tom. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“You still thinking about going?”

Sabrina didn’t answer right away.

“Would it be crazy if I said yes?”

Tom chuckled, stepping closer. He brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“I married you knowing you’d never stop chasing the sky.”

She met his eyes.

“But this time … it would mean leaving for weeks.”

Tom exhaled.

“I know.” He studied her for a long moment, then smiled. “But you also love to fly … and you’ll want to come back to watch Marisa and Jeff grow up.”

She did. And that was the crux of it. Her children were still young. She had missed so much before when they were babies. But she had promised herself she wouldn’t let this chance slip through her fingers again. Sabrina exhaled, leaning into Tom.

“It’s pulling me …”

Tom kissed her forehead.

“Then that’s your answer. Not right now, but as soon as you can.”

Sabrina nodded, the weight lifting slightly from her chest.

“‘Not right now,’” but someday? Someday, she would stand on that runway. And she would touch the Moon herself.