On the transport back to Mothership, Bea was quiet. I knew that look, the surgeon's accounting, running through every decision, questioning whether different choices might have changed outcomes.
"You saved fourteen people," I said softly.
"We lost three."
"We saved fourteen. And the three we lost were already gone before we arrived. The structural damage was too severe." I took her hand. "You can't save everyone, Bea. You taught me that."
She looked at me, and something in her expression cracked. "I know. I do know. It's just?—"
"It still hurts."
"Yeah."
"It should hurt. Means we're still human. Still care." I pulled her against my side. "But we honor the dead by living fully. By choosing to keep trying, keep saving, keep building something good."
"You sound like me in therapy."
"You've been a terrible influence on my emotional processing."
She laughed, tired but genuine. "Good."
The bonding ceremony happened two weeks later.
Chapter
Thirteen
Bea
Captain Tor'van's quarters transformed into something beautiful with traditional Zandovian decorations mixed with human touches Jalina had designed. Dana and Er'dox stood witness. Zor'go and Jalina prepared the ceremonial elements. Even Vaxon attended, watching from the back with that intense focus he usually reserved for security threats.
Elena came too, though she stood apart from the celebration. I caught her watching with longing and fear complicated in her expression. The understanding that she was being left behind while the rest of us moved forward.
I made a mental note to talk to her after. To offer help before she spiraled further into whatever darkness she was courting.
But for now, I focused on Zorn.
He wore traditional bonding markings, gold painted over hishealing colors, symbolizing new life, new commitments. I wore white, human tradition for new beginnings.
The ceremony itself was beautiful. Zandovian words I'd learned phonetically, speaking promises I absolutely meant. Ritual exchanges, gifts symbolizing what we brought to each other. Public acknowledgment that we chose this, chose each other, chose to build something permanent from the wreckage of displacement.
When it finished, when we were officially bonded in both human and Zandovian tradition, Zorn kissed me in front of everyone. Not carefully. Not professionally. With the absolute certainty of someone who'd found what mattered most and refused to let it go.
The celebration lasted hours. Food from a dozen cultures. Music Dana had programmed. Stories shared, laughter exchanged, the found family we'd built celebrating new chapters.
Eventually, Zorn and I escaped to his quarters. Our quarters now. Space we'd share, life we'd build together.
"Happy?" he asked, pulling me into his arms.
"Terrified," I admitted. "But also yes. Absolutely yes."
"Terrified?"
"I've spent my whole life avoiding this. Avoiding connection, avoiding vulnerability, avoiding anything that might hurt when it ended." I looked up at him. "Being with you means accepting that I could lose you. That something could go wrong. That happiness isn't guaranteed."
"Nothing's guaranteed." His markings flickered gold in thedim lighting. "But we survived impossible odds together. Faced death and chose life. If we can do that?—"
"We can do anything."
