Eva's seen this before, many, many times. Aboard the decks of Yeerk ships, a few times as an ambassador among Andalite ships. The latter made her skin crawl; the former only put revulsion in her mind, while her body remained calm and detached as ever. The view doesn't impress her, not the way it would someone who's never seen it before, or an astronaut who's seen it only in the throes of a victorious lift-off.

"Home?"

She wipes rain from her face and clenches one fist over the fingers on her other hand. Her front teeth dig into the back of her lower lip.

"Do you mean home away from Stacy? What about Marco? He's still on the ship?"

She stares not at the blue and white orb, but instead at the blackness surrounding it. In a way, oblivion seems more comfortable, and she wonders how much she invested in using outer space as a way to escape everything she didn't want to go back to.