The pilot’s lounge was empty, save for the lone figure seated in the corner behind the small electronic piano. His eyes were closed, and his fingers flowed over the keys like dripping honey on a hot day. From the speakers at the base of the piano a sorrowful piece in E Minor filled the room.

“That’s a beautiful song,” Jack said, standing in the doorway.

David looked up. “I didn’t know you were there,” he said apologetically.

“Well don’t stop on my account.” He walked across the room and stood next to the young pilot. “What song is that, anyway? I can’t place it, and I usually have a good ear for classical music.”

David shook his head. “It’s not a real song, I mean, it’s not by anyone in particular. I made it up, mostly, based on some of my favorite pieces.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Really? Then I’m even more impressed. Play a bit more, if you don’t mind.”

David blushed, but he put his head down and continued playing. “I wrote it a few years ago,” he said, “after my great-grandfather had died. It’s kind of a sad song, I guess, but it’s also about the future. I can’t really explain how the two go together, but…” His voice trailed off, and both of them listened to the song for a while.

“So you’ve heard about the Admiral’s plan,” Jack said once David had finished.

The young pilot nodded. “It sounds complicated. I hope we can do everything we need to do, and that the Deathspawn respond properly.”

Jack murmured in agreement. “That’ll be the hard part. In wartime, things rarely go according to plan. Hell, things haven’t been going according to plan since we started on this little voyage.”

“I know what you mean,” David said. “But somehow we’ve survived this far. Maybe we’ll get through the next bit as well.” He took a sip from a glass of water that was resting on the edge of the piano. “Hey, at least morale is up a little bit,” he said.

“That little speech that Sub-Lieutenant DeFeur made in the mess hall did wonders,” Jack said, agreeing. “Who’d have thought he would be the one to do it?” He shook his head in amazement. “I still can’t believe it. He always seemed like such a negative person, but I guess you can’t judge anyone too quickly.”

“I guess not,” David said. “So do you have any plans for the rest of the evening?”

Jack shrugged noncommittally. “Not really. Probably just hang around a bit, maybe watch some old videos or something. How about you?”

“Nothing special. I thought I’d write a letter to my parents, you know, just in case…” His voice trailed off.

Jack put his hand on the younger pilot’s shoulder. “I bet they’re very proud of you,” he said.

“Thanks. My dad was always bragging to his friends about me, it got really embarrassing. Mom was always so nervous… I kept having to reassure her that I was going to be all right, and that I wasn’t going to die every time I went into space. Sometimes I really miss them, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, his eyes staring out the window, watching the slowly-rotating stars. “I know.”