That Sunday, the Aurora facilities’ seemingly relentless pace had come to a halt in order to give way to warmth and peace, as hundreds of civilians entered the compound. It was the day scheduled for relatives and friends to visit and spend time with the members of the Aurora fleet before the highly-expected launch day.

Wendy’s family spotted her instantly inside the big reception hall, it was the same room where the graduation ceremony had been held. It was almost surreal to think that the event had taken place more than a month ago, when it felt like it had been just yesterday.

The young cadet felt a wave of bittersweet emotions wash over her, she was only a week away from beginning a new phase in her life, only a week away from the launch of the Aurora. Still, at the sight of her beloved family walking over to her, she couldn’t help but let out a long sigh. She would miss them thoroughly. No, that didn’t even begin to describe the inner turmoil that the impending farewell brought upon her. In just a week, she would be up there, on her way to another world full of possibilities, while her family would be down here, stuck on a dying planet. She swore she could taste the vile cruelty of it all, but then again, that might have just been the drop of blood that rolled off her inner cheek as she bit it, suppressing any rogue tear from escaping her eyes. She squared her shoulders with determination and stretched her arms as she welcomed her younger sister into her embrace.

“Seungwan-ah!” the younger girl exclaimed enveloping Wendy in a tight hug—the sister's usually called each of other by their birth names—while her mom and dad joined the hug from both sides. It suddenly became too warm, but that was just how she liked it. It reminded Wendy of cold winters in Canada sitting in front of a fireplace, surrounded by her family, as they hosted their yearly Christmas movie marathon, the smell of pumpkin pie and chocolate chip cookies wafting from the kitchen oven.

“Wennie, look at you,” her father pointed out first, after they had finally let go of her, using her old nickname. When the girl was merely a three years old, her older sister had given her an English name, right after they moved to Canada. But poor Wendy back then couldn’t quite pronounce it, missing the “d” whatsoever, and saying Wennie instead. So, it stuck with her and the whole family ended up calling her that for the rest of her life. “My little Wennie is going off to space,” he announced with his hands up in disbelief.

“Oh, Seunghoon, you make it sound like she’s being catapulted into space against her will or something. She’s a grown woman, she’s an astronaut, a cadet,” her mother chastised her father as she swatted his hands playfully.

“Yeah, well, you know this is all too overwhelming for me. I’m so so so proud of you, Wennie. I have no words,” the old man explained with a loving smile as he planted a hand on her shoulder.

“Just shine the bat-signal if you need help these two. I’m a self-declared pro after all these years at home alone with them,” her younger sister whispered discreetly with a thumb pointed at their parents.

Wendy merely shook her head in content, reveling in the sight in front of her. It was just so cozy, her whole family radiated warmth, like she was being covered in a soft blanket. For a brief moment, she wondered if she would miss it once she was up there but she quickly brushed her worries aside, reminding herself that the standard temperature on spacecrafts was 18ºC—optimal temperature for human life. Still, a small voice within her whispered that the thermostat's temperature wasn't the real issue, but she wasn't in the mood to entertain such thoughts.

— — —

The day went by in a blur. They walked around the base, and then went back to Gwangmoo —where all the families had been allocated for the week— going in and out of random shops and enjoying some much-needed family time. For dinner, Wendy took them to the old diner that Joohyun had showed her a few weeks back, Gaeko’s. She thought her family would appreciate the familiar dose of greasy and overly-sweet western food. And her sister’s ecstatic face told her that she had been completely right. The view of the four of them at the diner's corner booth made Wendy feel like they had been transported back to her small town.

But the thing with time is that it won’t ever stop, not even for space cadets. So, sooner than Wendy expected, she was getting off the rental vehicle and waving her family off as they drove back to their hotel. She stood by sidewalk pensively as the seconds passed, it certainly wouldn’t be the last time she would see her family, they were allowed to come by for lunch every day the following week, and had also been invited to a casual dinner on Friday and the special ceremony on Saturday, but for Wendy that latter one didn’t really count. The whole preamble and launch would be televised and the fleet were supposed to focus on looking presentable on stage and later on, focus completely on the critical task at hand, the launch itself. So, she doubted she’d get any proper time with her family that day. She sighed bitterly—something she seemed to be doing often as of late—feeling the burden of the sacrifices to be made in order to achieve her dreams like she had never before. The weight settled somewhere deep within her chest.

Wendy’s eyes got watery as her thoughts wandered, traveling to places she normally avoided. Feeling a tear roll down her cheek, she tilted her face up, eyes fixed on the stars up ahead. “Seungmi-ah, I’m keeping my promise. I’m sorry I couldn’t take mom and dad, but I’m sure Seungyeon will follow my steps. We’re getting away from this doomed planet of us,” she whispered into the night. “I just wish you were here with me, you know how much of a cry-baby I can be,” she added with a forced smile, her lips shaking.

The cadet took a few more even breaths to calm herself before turning around to head back to the dorms but a small figure sitting a few meters away, on the steps that led to the dorms, caught her by surprise. She stopped in place tilting her head, waiting, but the distant figure made no motion to approach her, so she was the one who closed the distance, one tentative step after the other, until the two women were sitting right next to each other.

“You looked like you needed some space,” Joohyun noted sensibly once Wendy turned to her, noticing the cadet's inquisitive gaze.

“Thanks,” the younger woman merely whispered back.

Seconds passed and the silence between them extended but neither made any attempt to break it. It held too much, words would merely ruin the moment.

They stayed side by side like that, eyes fixed somewhere beyond the horizon, for what seemed like an eternity to Wendy. After some time, she covertly shifted her eyes. Beside her she could see the moonlight reflected on Joohyun’s face, the woman had never looked so soft and vulnerable. There was something missing or misplaced in her semblance, melancholy didn’t suit her at all. It dawned on Wendy that she wasn’t the only one feeling empty and bitter, that Joohyun too probably felt that consuming void growing inside herself. She had a family, she had friends that she'd soon be leaving behind. But it wasn't just them, surely the whole crew was starting to feel that way, that kind of self-perpetuating yearning.

The cadet gingerly stretched her arms, wrapping Joohyun’s frame with them, and resting her head on the woman’s shoulder, letting out a sorrowful sigh. Wendy couldn’t magically lift up the spirits of the whole camp, but this much she could definitely do. Hold on to the one beside her and hope it would melt some of the ice nesting inside them. “It’s so cold,” Wendy murmured in a breathy voice, trying to voice the unintelligible chaos flooding her when it got too difficult to handle alone.

Joohyun quietly sniffed, holding back imminent tears. “I know, I know,” she replied back in something barely above a whisper as she wrapped an arm around Wendy too. It was all too much for both them, for anybody, really.

— — —

The cafeteria was extra noisy that afternoon, with almost five times the usual number of occupants. The lively mood was helping the officers relieve some stress and relax during their last week. Allowing for families to visit during lunch time had proved to be a great idea.

“Hey, doofus! Did you eat my chocolate muffin? It was right here a moment ago,” Joy protested with utter abomination, as she pointed with her fork directly at her brother’s face.

“What? No, I’ve been playing this dumb game with Sally all lunch,” he merely replied, without paying Joy much attention. He was rather focused on the plastic squared chips in front of him.

“It’s not dumb, it’s retro!” Wendy’s younger sister stressed with frustration, alluding to the Guess Who game that she had found somewhere at her hotel and decided to bring to the base.

Mark’s oldest brother conspiratorially leaned over the table in Joy’s direction, whispering, “He totally ate it, I just saw him.”

The action finally managed to get Joy’s brother's attention. “Dude, what the ? What about bro’s code?” Jihoon inquired in dismay.

Mark scoffed next to his brother, shaking his head. “Don’t take it personally. He’d even snitch on me.”

After a short pause, Jihoon decided to let it go and continue with the game. “Anyway, does your person wear a hat?”

“No! You already asked that two turns ago,” Sally replied as she rolled her eyes, growing more exasperated with every passing second.

“He was dropped at birth, it’s not his fault,” Joy interjected, patting his brother on the back.

He slapped her hand automatically, with a bold, “Yeah, and what’s your excuse?”

From the other side of the table, where the parents had been quietly talking the whole time, the screech of a chair interrupted the fight. Joy and Jihoon’s mom stood up imposingly, exclaiming for the whole cafeteria to hear, “Oh my god! Park Sooyoung, Park Jihoon, you’re both adults now! Behave, please.”

That managed to dissuade the two siblings from engaging in any further arguments, as they both obediently sat back, decisively avoiding their mother’s gl