”We’re home”

That was what he had told Zhar Ro, back on the ship. It was mostly for the dying general’s benefit though- La Ma didn’t really consider Tel space home. It hadn’t been home since he was 6. When “family” was plural.

“Family is where your heart is.” His heart wasn’t here, not anymore. A part of it was here, but it was gone, leaving behind a body that the soldiers were treating with the outmost respect, more than they treat the Elysian inmates.

”When we get out of here, I’ll see about making some real upgrades to these babies.” Two parts of it were lost during the chaos of that bloody revolt.

”It would be nice to work with patients without worrying about them or someone else killing me for once.” Because he was too slow, or just plain not there.

”When we get back home, you should join the military. You’d be a great asset to the Intelligence Division.” Their enemies have torn it apart, piece by piece, until all that remained was a remorseless killer.

”You don’t have to push yourself for me! Go for the easy marks, like you used to. Eventually you’ll have enough money. In the meantime, worry about yourself, not me.” They were all gone now. All his loved ones, taken.

”Look after your sister… Promise me…” He had decided he would honour them by fighting. Fighting against those who ruined their lives, fighting for those who they had wanted to save, but could not.

”I won’t stand idle while they pillage my home and murder my friends! For the children’s future, I must help and fight!” They thought he could do great things. He couldn’t let them down, could he?

If home is where the heart is, then he had no home, for he had no heart. But even so…

Home…

Tears ran down his cheeks, and he descended into sobbing as his fork fell to the plate with a clatter. He was not alone, as Tel prisoners in fresh clothes sat round him, crying and sobbing with various degrees of intensity, as the medics (medics! Actual medics, instead of guards or a psycho with too much free time!) looked on with soft, warm happiness.

”La, Zho! Wash your hands, I made your favourites!”

If he didn’t have a home, he supposed he’d just have to make a new one.

”You’ll love it in Tel space, La Ma Shre. You’ll love being home.”