Page 63 of Rogue Starfighter

“Priya. I was an idiot last night. Forgive me.”

That was not a request, it was a command. The truth was, I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted the hours he’d promised. I wanted a bed, a locked door, and at least one day without someone shooting at us.

The core warning sounded. “I hate this ship,” I said.

“No, you do not.”

“Not even a little.”

We separated and went back to work. Vesh plotted a route away from the moon that did not intersect any previously plotted mission vectors, extraction points, or Alliance patrols.

“Command will expect us here,” he said, marking the assigned extraction point. “If the traitor knows we survived, that position will be watched.”

“So we don’t use it.”

“We go around the debris fields between Xandrax and the Gate. No one in command knows this route.”

“How do you?”

“I created it after Tavik died and forgot to put it in any of my reports."

Of course he had. Six years of flying alone and trusting no one had produced exactly the escape route we needed.

“How dangerous?”

“Very.”

“You need a more descriptive vocabulary.”

“Would you prefer terrifying?”

“No, very is fine.”

Grinning, he transferred the route to my display. It ran through Xandraxian patrol space, two unstable debris fields, and several hours of open dark before reaching the Gate.

“The core will not make it that far,” I said.

“No. We will need to stop and cool it before we make the final run.”

“Somewhere the enemy can’t see us.”

“I have options.” The way he said it suggested his options were all illegal, dangerous, or both.

“Vesh?”

He went very still. “Yes.”

My heart climbed into my throat. “If we don't make it, I need you to know I have no regrets. Not one. I am glad you came for me. Glad I got to know you.”

“Stop. We are going home."

"I don't have a home." Sadder words had never been spoken, at least not by me. But they were true. My apartment back on Earth was nothing but beige walls, beige carpet and a bunch of shit I didn't care about. My friends lived too far away. My mother was…well, my mother. And Vesh? He'd made his feelings clear last night. His near-death apology didn't mean anything. As soon as we were back at base—assuming we made it back—he'd revert back to Mr. I Can't Take Risks and I'd be alone, crying myself to sleep. Again.

“You deserve better than a declaration made in a dying ship.” His hand covered mine on the controls.

Excuses. I pulled my hand free and guided the ship to Vesh's secret route. We carried proof of the traitor, proof of Queen Raya’s new weapon, one failing engine, and nine percent power. It would have to be enough.

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