The rockets launch day and night, without ceasing, without fail—even on Christmas. In twelve hours, Sara’s fiancée Ash must board one of them and leave her behind forever; Government duty calls. So Sara vows to ensure their last night on Earth together sticks in their memories forever.
A sweet romance about the lengths we go to for love.
Allure
Sara gripped Ash’s hand fiercely as the wind tangled her brown hair in her mouth. The summer night lay hot and humid, full of beaches even though the closest was at least a hundred kilometres away; a night full of pregnant pauses and insect humming, rocked intermittently by explosions of sound and light; a night when, despite the show, sensible people would be indoors in their air conditioning, watching the Christmas carols or yet another clichéd family holiday movie.
The launches were old news; ships had been departing continuously for the better part of a month, and Christmas was a greater novelty.
Sara swallowed and squeezed Ash’s hand tighter. Not for her. Instead of the traditional family meal by candlelight, she stood on the hilltop with her ex-fiancé, fingers entwined, watching the rockets streak skywards. Christmas is a stupid time to schedule launches, she thought vehemently.
Christmas was for homecomings and returns, not departures to worlds unknown. But the Government called, and Ash was duty-bound to answer, and in less than twelve hours he’d be on board one of those streaks of light that rumbled like the very thunder of the gods, a meteoroid shooting up in reverse to join the stars in space.
“Are you okay?” Ash said.
He meant it to be quiet, a question full of warmth and concern, but over the ships and the wind he had to shout close to her ear.
Sara nodded, rescuing more hair from between her lips and tucking it futilely around her ear. “I’m fine.”
She had to be, didn’t she? She was not the only fiancée scheduled to be abandoned on Christmas Day. Each fiery streak in the sky represented at least a score of soldiers, plus a host of supporting crew and technicians, all headed to Tarne, where heroes were in great demand.
Abruptly, Sara kicked the railing that enclosed the lookout. Let Tarne fight their own war.
What help would a thousand extra soldiers be, let alone the single one who was supposed to be hers?