Nobody, except me, appeared to be having doubts.
Eventually, I found myself at the aft observation deck, where viewports stretched floor to ceiling, and the chaos couldn't reach. Everyone else had a role to play. I didn't, not yet. And that left me with nothing but time to think.
I thought about Alicia.
What if the ship were attacked?
What if she got hurt, or worse?
What if Kaedren was shot again, this time by someone who actually knew how to use a blaster?
What if…
My fingers had gone white against the viewport railing. I forced them to unclench.
"Beautiful view, isn't it?"
I let out a yip and turned. Vaelix stood a few feet away, yellow alert lights playing across his blue skin like firelight. I glanced out thewindow. He was right. Lines of stars traced past the viewport, peaceful white-blue streaks offering a stark contrast to the chaos inside the ship.
"I hadn't noticed, to be honest," I said.
He smiled and stood next to me, taking in the view.
"I remember my first combat mission. It was years ago, before we were given the Starbreaker. Before we were Knights. Before we really understood anything."
"Did anybody die?"
He blinked, his eyes locked on the lines outside the window.
"Yes. Friends. Enemies. Good people and bad." He paused. "All of those deaths led to the outcome we needed. Or wanted, I suppose."
"What outcome was that?"
He turned to face me fully. "The Reach wasn't always unified. Like old Earth, different factions fought for different futures."
I watched him as he spoke. This wasn't small talk. He was telling me something important.
"Our faction made enough right choices to shape the Reach around our ideals: freedom, liberty, choice." His eyes held mine. "We were ready to die for those things. I think that's what you want too. Am I right?"
I nodded. My fists clenched until they shook. My heart hammered against my ribs, and tears blurred my vision. I wanted all of the things he had fought for. I wanted that for me and for those oppressed by the corporations. I was tired of seeing the same stories on the newsfeeds: starving colonies, medical care only for those who could pay for it, and the cost of living getting more expensive every day. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.
Vaelix wrapped his arms around me. I buried my head in his chest and sobbed. Not like you see in the holo-flicks, I'm talking ugly crying. I blew snot bubbles in the chiseled pectorals of this blue-skinned man. And he just held me tight, stroking my hair.
He didn't say anything.
He didn't tell me I was overreacting.
He didn't tell me everything was going to be okay.
He didn't try to fix the problem.
He just let me cry.
And I did, probably for a solid ten minutes. I cried and ran through every single thing that could go wrong on this mission. I spiraled as hard as I had ever spiraled in my life.
Eventually, the tears slowed. My breathing steadied. And I became aware of other things; the warmth of his arms, the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek, the rise and fall of his chest.
I took a deep breath. Sandalwood. God, he smelled good. I nuzzled deeper into his chest and felt his muscles flex beneath my cheek. My imagination flashed to him in training, with sweat sliding down those chiseled abs, shirt clinging to his shoulders, raven-black hair falling loose as he moved through combat forms.
