Lee stopped in his tracks, frozen between steps, grateful that it was Kat who had the blasters as he and Nolan stared wordlessly back at each other. Lee didn’t even bother to hide the duffles or defend himself. What could he even say in this situation?
Nolan seemed confused, at first. And then recognition settled in—and understanding. “Cadet Waters.” He cleared his throat. “I trust you have arranged everything you need for this last mission?”
Lee was still blinking past his amazement, his astonishment, as he nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Don’t look back.” For a moment, Nolan held his gaze. And then he dipped his head, a slow, deliberate motion. And he began walking again, right past Lee and up the stairway.
Lee’s head was still reeling as he set off, briskly, this time, after Kat to the main hangar.
Nolan may not be willing to stand for much. But he had his allegiances. And he had loyalties. Nolan had presented them with time, and a chance, and the rest was up to Lee and Kat.
He strode up the aisle of the hangar to the skimmer positioned in the center. Whistler had planned this well. It would be just them and the hangar door tomorrow night.
Kat had already begun scoping out the small, but very well-stocked, kitchenette area in the back when he arrived. “There will be no shortage of stroganoff pouches this trip.” She grinned over at him. So much sunlight in that smile. And she thought she couldn’t keep a plant alive.
“They really took care of us, didn’t they?” she said quietly to Lee as she followed him up past the clean observation deck, to the cockpit to join Zane and Whistler.
“We’re close,” Zane said, glancing up from one of the pilot seats. Lee hung back by the open doorway, still going over what had just occurred with Nolan in his head.
“Now all that’s left is blitzing out of here tomorrow night before the hangar managers can call Nolan or the Commander on us.” Kat was saying it to be ironic. But he could see the doubts limning the edges of her comment. He knew she had it scripted out as perfectly synced as was possible; she’d done her homework and research thoroughly as usual. But even between their careful planning and Whistler’s and Zane’s stratagems, there was still room for something to go wrong.
But maybe they could count on one less something going wrong. Maybe there was someone they could cross off that list for good.
“I don’t think Nolan will be an issue,” he said quietly. Kat just watched him, contemplatively while he explained what had just occurred with the Commander’s secretary outside the hangar. Nolan probably wouldn’t do much more to help them, either—but still… “I actually feel kind of bad now we never got around to properly thanking him,” Lee said, again thinking through their brief, tongue-tied conversation.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I made sure our favorite Commander’s secretary had a right-jolly memento to remember us by. Although I wonder if he’s found it yet.” Kat waved a hand, all but oblivious to the jaws that had tumbled down to the floor.
Zane stared back at her stony-faced. Lee could feel his eyebrows rise up to his hairline as he struggled to formulate the appropriate response.
“What did you do?” Whistler asked, voicing the words Lee was positive they were all thinking.
“It was nothing major. But I remember how much he likes his flagged files and gorgeous penmanship… so I left him a little laser-marked heart some place he’ll be sure to check…”
And as the other two continued to gape, Kat’s eyes positively sparkled.
Lee wasn’t sure if his groan was inward or outward or both, but he made sure to let her see his eyes roll. He could picture only too perfectly how obnoxious that would have turned out.
“I’m sure he’ll love that,” Zane mused darkly, shooting Kat theyou-are-completely-insanelook he generally reserved just for her.
And Lee couldn’t help the huffed laugh that escaped him. Always the surprise. His warrior starflower, through and through.
Zane was still muttering under his breath as they reacquainted themselves with the ship’s freshly upgraded tech system.
The communications framework had been fully implemented. The new shield recalibration, tested and online. And with the ship fully charged, stocked, prepped, and—as promised—equipped with its modified engine capabilities, they were running out of excuses to remain. This was it. Around this time tomorrow night, they would be gone.
“If we don’t get another chance…” Lee began, stopping to clear his throat. “If we don’t get to say this tomorrow,” he tried again, glancing from Zane, to Whistler, and back to Zane again. “Thank you. Both of you.”
He let his two fingers fall to his wrist.
“I’d do it again,” Whistler grinned, some fierceness in his crooked grin as he matched the gesture. But then again, the cadet had always been stronger-willed than Lee had given him credit.
And as Zane slowly, pointedly, let his fingers meet his own wrist, Lee read the words there. The unspoken bond they’d somehow come to form, despite it all. Despite her. Despite everything; for this, they’d inexplicably found a way to diffuse everything else between them. Their former rivalry was now mere stars amid their galaxy.
And as Kat embraced Whistler, the two of them starting to edge out of the ship, Lee turned back once more, lowering his voice. “Whatever your dad says, you were never a disappointment.”
Zane’s dark eyes gleamed as he followed Lee out.
They bid farewell to their fellow Gamma cadets at the upper skywalk, Kat and Zane emanating their own form of shared memories with short glances and stiff movements. It would take more than a few months to fully thrust all of that behind them.
