CHAPTER 44 LEE
THEIR PENULTIMATE day on the ship came and went, a frenzy of him and Kat barreling through his portal door in the morning to avoid being late for trainings. A hurried lunch hour.
And then he was catching up with Kat to make sure they had copies of everything. The miscellany they’d found on the Commander’s hub; the copies of the Argos files; their list of potential base locations; and any other intel they thought they might need.
Beyond that, they were clearing search histories, and stripping down unnecessary files from their hubs, given the uncertainty of inspection after they made their big getaway tomorrow evening.
They were leaving tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
To-mor-row.
It was like the word was repeating in slow motion in his head while the day zipped past him. And just like that, the day was over.
Lee shuffled about his room, double-checking that he’d grabbed everything he wanted from the shelves in his closet.
They were only just now finding time to load the skimmer.
Kat was on her way back to her dorm to collect the blasters and her duffle.
His own, he found, was much lighter than he’d thought possible—but he was taking only the necessities.
Band T-shirts. Toothbrush. Lazr-pods. He wouldn’t need all that much where they were going—hopefully.
He surveyed the wall by his window bay. All of his bedding was staying.
Along with his aloes. He lifted one of its spines gingerly with a finger.
He hadn’t even had a chance yet to repot this one.
Maybe he could find some time to drop it down with Ilan tomorrow afternoon before they left.
He smiled as his hand hovered over his action-hero figurine.
The little guy still faced out to the stars.
Lee scooped him up, dropping him into the open duffle. Something to up the kilos, just a little.
He still grappled with the weight of uncertainty hanging on his shoulders from the other night.
So many unknowns bearing down on him. Maybe someday he would breathe easy again.
Although, he could admit that having Kat at his side definitely played its part in helping lessen at least some fraction of that burden.
Void, she made that burden infinitely lighter.
He couldn’t imagine trying to juggle all of this and deal with it on his own.
Even after everything they’d gathered and learned these past few months, it still felt as if they were going into this with a dark-opaque vizor pulled down over their eyes.
This was trust.
And his gut. His gut had never intentionally led him astray. He just prayed again on the destiny of that void that his gut wasn’t about to lose strength and fail him any time soon.
Kat was knocking on his portal door when his hyperband buzzed.
“Coming,” he murmured. He slapped a hand by the door, stepping back to read Whistler’s message while he let her in.
“Looks like our skimmer is for sure a go,” he said by way of greeting.
He took the two strides over to the bed to grab his duffle before following her outside to the hallway.
“Whistler said he and Zane are implementing the hacks from Nikola and Hanna as we speak. I suppose now is as good of a time as any to drop these off.”
Lee slung his duffle across his chest before snaking her pink duffle over her head and doubling it up with his own. He accepted the star flower—her star flower, with its moon-dust petals, leaving Kat free to tuck the wrapped bundle of blasters more discreetly within her arms.
“You’ve done well with it,” he gestured with his head down to the potted plant. The pollen inside the second flower was vibrant and fiery as he remembered.
“I know.” Kat stuck out her tongue.
Lee just smiled. He was still surprised she had wanted to bring the star flower with her. But it had been her idea, and one she seemed pleased with, after confirming and re-confirming about a dozen times that he was sure it would survive out there.
The dinner hour, tonight, was a grateful distraction from passersby. They cleared most of the Heptagon and were down to that last stairway facing the central skywalk and hangars before Lee heard movement coming towards them. He hissed for Kat to duck around the corner ahead of him—
And then Nolan rounded the other.
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 the you-are-completely-insane look 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.
And then he and Kat began the shuffle around that chilly grated floor, beneath the dimmed overhead lights, in the well-trodden path.
He walked her back, lingering as he studied the shadows of her lashes on her cheek; the way the starlight hit her narrow frame in this angle. He memorized the feel in the air, and the feeling of them, as they were tonight, just two cadets in love.
His kiss was brief. Soft. Thoughtful. A single spark meant to commemorate this moment. And a seal, on all that had been, before they dove headfirst into the unknown.
And all too soon, he was back at his dorm. Tonight they’d sleep in their own beds. One last night in their dorms. One last night onboard the Academy.
As he strode towards his bed, ready to collapse and endure an unending night of tossing and turning and worrying about tomorrow, he nearly missed the thin band resting atop his holoblock. His radiation band from Segura, now returned to him.
A note sat on top, jotted down in a very untidy scrawl.
Found this buried in the code. Good luck—J
Underneath his message was a set of numbers. But the numbers weren’t code for the mainframe.
They were coordinates.
Lee had his holoblock open in a second. He had the latitude and longitude typed in within the strokes of a few more.
But he let his fingers hover there, over the keys, aching to hit that final stroke that would illuminate this last secret for them.
Terrified of the disappointment should they come up short.
And desperate that these coordinates be the untraceable answer to one of those final questions.
He didn’t know how long he waited there. Deliberating. Fearing. Preparing. Dismissing. When at last, he let his fingers fall.
He clutched the radiation band in his fist, the milliseconds dragging on for much longer than he could bear as his mind sped through all the possibilities as to where these coordinates might lead.
Could the answer really have been here with them all along?
The location of a base, hidden away on the throwaway band?
His mind ceased its spiraling as an image glittered to life across the hologram before him, carving a pathway in their galaxy, a beacon in the star-flecked blackness.
He’d had a hunch that this was important.
He’d hung onto that feeling, against all odds.
Against all reasoning and possibility. Subconsciously fighting for it and working towards it.
Doing everything in his power to ensure it came to fruition—even before he knew why.
And now here it was. His hunch. His reason.
His purpose.
He typed out a brief message on his hyperband.
Lee: I know where we’re going.