And more than anything, he wanted to resolve this. To bring this war to an end, as soon as possible.
Too many had died already.
He started the launch protocols and let the system begin. As it attempted to connect with the Rhimodian network, errors kept coming up, so he adjusted protocols for eclipse flight. Since the ship was sitting cold, the pre-flight would still take some time, they would not be able to leave for a short while.
He turned to Veta, who had settled next to him in the other piloting seat. She had gotten one of the awful ration bars out and took a bite, though she stared out of the cockpit’s window, looking back at the village.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded and rubbed her neck. The ship, a simple transport, had banks of seats, separated down the middle, where two Rhimodians could sit on either side. The vessel required one pilot, though there were seats for two.
The ship hummed as it went through its preflight checks.
“Will it take long to launch?” Veta asked her gaze on the controls.
“A little bit. Without the network to double-check everything, it will give a lot of—” the display beeped. He had to answer the input. “A lot of those,” he said.
She nodded. “I suppose you have questions.”
“I do.”
“No time like the present,” she muttered. She stretched her neck, rocking her head back and forth. “Ask your questions.”
“What is a whore?”
She glanced at him and blinked. “It is a woman who has sex with a lot of people. Usually for money.”
“I see,” he replied. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Depends on who you ask.”
“Are you one of these? These whores?”
She laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant laugh like she was amused. “There is a negative connotation to the word, which makes it an insult. Have I had sex a lot? By some definition, probably.”
“Do you have sex in exchange for information? As the old man said?”
“I have before,” she said.
Wrathin nodded. “I see.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “I had to do whatever I needed to do to survive. And sometimes that meant having sex, or sexual contact, with someone to complete my mission.”
“Okay.”
She blinked. “I’m sorry. It’s who I am. It may not be pretty—”
“Why do you think who you are is not pretty?”
“My choices are not pretty.”
“Your choices seem to be what has kept you alive. And I approve of that.”
“Why?”
“Because if you were not, then we would not have met. And I am glad to meet you, Veta.”
She reached over and took his hand. “I am glad I met you too, Wrathin.”
