I walk to the nose of the craft, press my palm to the hull. The outer layer shimmers beneath my touch. “I was supposed to leave this world after the war. Disappear. This was the vessel they gave me. I never used it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I hated myself. And exile felt too easy.”
She walks around it, fingertips brushing over the stabilizers, the wing flaps. “Does it work?”
“Needs charging. Maybe parts. But yes.”
She stops in front of me. Her eyes shine.
And then she does something I don’t expect.
She kisses me.
Not fast. Not desperate.
Sure.
Like this is what she wants.
Not escape. Not safety.
Me.
When she pulls back, she breathes, “We’re not just running, are we?”
“No.”
“We’re fighting.”
I nod.
She grins. “Good. Because I have more data. And I think I know where the hive node is.”
She’s quiet for a long time.
Then she steps into me, close enough our foreheads touch.
My eyes close.
Her words crash through me.
Soft. Shattering.
A punishment—for everything I’ve done.
And a salvation—for everything I still could be.
No more waiting.
CHAPTER 31
JILLIAN
“The intake valves are clear, but we have a problem.”
Maug’s voice rumbles from the cockpit, tight with frustration. I’m standing on the rusted gantry ladder, looking down at the sleek, deadly curve of the starfighter. The engines are humming—a low, thrumming vibration that shakes dust from the cavern ceiling—but the massive blast doors above us remain stubbornly shut.
