Chapter 6
I opened my eyes as a vibration shuddered through my body.
I looked out the front viewport and saw the walls of the Starbreaker's shuttle bay.
My ears buzzed with the sound of chatter between the shuttle crew and the medical bay.
Triage reports, status updates, and intelligence alerts circulated among the crew.
Even though there had been casualties and unexpected challenges with the women who were rescued, the Starbreaker was operating like a well-oiled machine.
Torvyn patted my shoulder as he rushed by, shouting muffled orders.
The shuttle lights flickered, then went dark.
I tried to breathe, but it felt like a mountain had been placed on top of my neck.
I clawed at my helmet release, but my gloved fingers couldn't get hold of the clasp.
My body thrashed against my crash couch's harness as my mouth opened and shut, a scream trapped in my throat.
Suddenly, Lyrin's face materialized in front of me.
He grabbed my arms and held them down, then his helmet's faceplate pressed gently against mine.
A wave of calmness blanketed me, pushed across the Tether from Lyrin.
Kaedren, Vaelix, and Torvyn added to it, and my heartbeat slowed.
The mountain crumbled, and I took a deep, ragged breath.
Lyrin reached up, unlocked my helmet, and slowly pulled it from my suit.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as sobs wracked my body.
He pulled his gloves off and pressed his hands against my face, leaning forward until our foreheads touched.
The warmth of his body washed over me, calming my sobs.
I took another deep breath and looked up at him, my eyes filled with shame.
I tried to hold it back from the Tether, but I couldn't.
He shook his head, then pulled my face to his and kissed me. I let out a soft moan as its deepness reached into me, bracketed by loving support from the other Knights. Lyrin pulled back, but kept one hand on me. He cupped my chin, then dotted my nose with a kiss and gave me a knowing smile.
"Take as much time as you need."
His words echoed in my ear, the Tether amplifying the understanding the words were bathed in.
I nodded and mouthed a thank you, but didn't move.
He walked down the shuttle's short hallway and disembarked.
He didn't have to tell me he was heading to the medical bay; I already knew.
I also knew that's exactly where I needed to be.
I just needed one more minute to get my game face back on.
I couldn't understand how the Knights did this without any emotional attachment.
I wanted to ask, but I didn't want to interrupt them.
They were already so busy executing my plan that it wouldn't be fair to make them babysit me in the process.
They had done enough. It was my turn to step up.
Get your shit together. NOW.
I unbuckled my harness and stood. We had a plan, and I needed to stick to it. Lyrin was waiting for me, and those women didn't have time for my inability to deal with stressful situations.
I hustled out of the shuttle. The Starbreaker was busier than I'd ever seen it. I dodged armed guards and repair crews as I sprinted to the medical bay.
The doors whooshed open, and I stopped dead in my tracks.
The smell hit me first, an antiseptic undertone trying to cover the tangy iron of spilt blood.
The heat of too many bodies packed into a space designed for half as many pressed against my skin.
Women were screaming, babies were crying, and nurses were shouting orders at patients and orderlies.
I ran to the center of the bay, to the incident command center, and found the head nurse.
"Where do you need me?" I asked.
She handed me an earpiece. "Find somebody and fix them up."
I slipped it on, and Torvyn's voice filled my ear. "Do we have any intelligence on the second camp?"
"The last update I have is that corporate forces surrounded it. We are now out of sensor range," Vaelix said.
"Have we confirmed the final casualty count?" Torvyn asked.
"Six members of Kaedren's team were lost on the ground.
Three more succumbed to their injuries during surgery.
Four women died during the rescue, not from us.
We believe they died of pre-existing medical issues.
Ten more succumbed to injuries on board.
Again, we believe those injuries were pre-existing conditions that we could do nothing about. "
Six of Kaedren's people. I felt a flicker of something cold move through the Tether; grief.
Controlled. Contained. But there. I kept moving.
I looked around the bay. Every bed was surrounded by medical staff.
I looked to my right, which was a mistake, and saw a handful of beds covered by white sheets.
I closed my eyes and counted to three. Nothing you can do for them; find somebody you can help.
I opened my eyes and looked left. In the middle of the chaos, one bed sat unattended. A woman holding a baby. The same one I talked to in the cells. I walked over to her.
"How are you two doing?"
Big brown eyes looked up at me, uncertainty clouding them. I put a hand on her arm and gave her a soft smile.
"It's okay, there are no wrong answers here. You can tell me what you need."
"You aren't going to hit me?" she asked.
I swallowed hard.
"No, absolutely not. Nobody here will hit you. You are safe, I promise. What’s your name?"
“Ginny,” she said as she looked down at her baby.
"What's her name?" I asked.
The woman smiled as she ran a finger down the baby's face. "Hope."
Something caught in my chest.
"That's beautiful," I said.
The woman looked at me again. "I named her after what I lost, after I signed the contract with the corporation. But maybe you have given her name meaning."
I squeezed her arm. "All we did was give you a fighting chance. Get some rest."
Hours passed. When the night shift finally kicked me out, my body was exhausted, but my mind wouldn't stop.
I wandered the Starbreaker, letting my feet take me wherever they wanted. Apparently, the only place they remembered well enough to return to was the observation alcove at the aft of the ship.
I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows and watched the slipspace star lines stretch endlessly past us.
The anxiety and fear that had been clawing at me earlier were gone.
Siphoned away by hours of work and motion.
The calm that replaced them felt strange in my chest, like a piece of food stuck in your teeth.
You knew it was there, but you also knew you couldn't do anything about it. So you just accepted it.
I replayed the plan I had come up with, and the decisions I had made.
I rested my forehead against the glass.
The Knights had known there would be casualties. They had to have. Which meant they believed the risk was acceptable. Lives lost weighed against lives saved. Even with the loss of the second camp.
Vaelix had already confirmed it through his intelligence network. The corporations believed a mole in that camp had leaked security codes.
The punishment had been immediate.
Death.
I lowered myself to the floor, my back against the window, knees pulled in close. If you had asked me four months ago to plan a mission that would save hundreds of people, knowing others would die, I would have laughed. I would have said it wasn't something I could live with.
Now I understood the cost. I understood why people made these choices. Why they justified them. Why they learned to carry the weight and keep moving anyway.
My breath caught.
The worst part wasn't that people died.
The worst part was how easily I accepted it.
I knew I would make the same decision again.
Why didn't that terrify me?
The slipspace lines blurred as my eyes unfocused. The ship hummed around me, steady and indifferent, as if nothing had happened at all.
I felt the Knights reach for me through the Tether. Not urgently. Not in alarm. Just concern brushing against the edges of my awareness.
I wasn't ready.
I let the connection dim.
I just need a little time.
Understanding met me immediately. No resistance. No pressure.
The connection eased, and I was alone again with the stars, the silence, and the knowledge that something inside me had changed.
I don't know how long I sat there before I felt him. Not through the Tether, but physically. From the soft echo of footsteps in the dark corridor to my right, the familiar hint of sandalwood.
Lyrin stopped in the doorway.
He didn't say anything. He just stood there, holding space for me. His presence was a question I could answer or ignore.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
"You can come in," I said.
Lyrin crossed the alcove and lowered himself to the floor beside me. Close enough that our shoulders almost touched, but not quite. He settled against the window, mirroring my position, and looked out at the stars.
We sat like that for a while as the ship hummed around us.
Finally, I spoke.
"I keep waiting to feel something more."
Lyrin didn't look at me. "More than what?"
"More than… this." I gestured vaguely at myself. "I planned a mission. People died. And I'm sitting here feeling calm. Like I've already made peace with it."
"You expected guilt."
"I expected something. Horror. Regret." I turned my head to look at him. "Instead, I keep thinking about how I'd do it again. The same way. The same choices."
Lyrin was quiet for a moment.
"The people we lost today didn't die because you made a mistake. The people we saved are alive because of the plan you made."
"I know. That's not what's bothering me." I pulled my knees tighter. "Four months ago, I couldn't have done this. Couldn't have made the call, couldn't have lived with the outcome. Now I can. And I don't know what that makes me."