“To the Valkyrie ,” Hockman toasted, his voice warm. “And to the stars we chase.”
“Do you ever think about… what comes after this?” Hockman asked quietly. “After the missions, after the routes, after the endless jumps between stations?”
And so, under the glittering veil of the cosmos, Angie and Hockman charted a journey that was theirs alone—a voyage of love, friendship, and endless discovery, forever guided by the stars between the lines.
Angie's eyebrows lifted. “You read my mind.”
They stood side by side, the dome’s glass arch framing a breathtaking view of the nebulae, the swirling colors of distant stars, and the faint glimmer of the Valkyrie moored below.