Page 11 of Blightfall

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Arturo said, leaning against the corridor wall. “I’m only taking a few pilots.”

Not a misunderstanding, then. If he wasn’t taking the whole flight, it made sense I’d be the last one picked. “I understand—” I started to say, but Arturo cut me off.

“Jorgen suggested I bring you along,” Arturo said. “But I have concerns.”

I…had no idea how to react to that. On one hand, the admiral himself suggested me for this mission! But on the other…“Concerns?”

Arturo sighed. “I’ll be up-front with you. Our assignment is to check out a strange cytonic disturbance, which will be primarily Alanik’s job, and also to accompany some diplomats to make contact with another settlement of humans. When the team is with the diplomats, we’re going to stay quiet and watch their backs while they do the talking. So I need pilots who know how to keep their mouths shut.”

Oh. I’d assumed Arturo would leave me behind because I hadn’t done anything to set myself apart, but apparently I had, and not in a good way. “You think I talk too much?”

“It’s not just about the volume of words,” Arturo said. “You’re not always the most aware of what’s going on around you. You’re a great pilot. I’m glad you’re in my flight. I would trust you to have my back in a firefight any day. But if we land on the planet and act as ground security for diplomats in a tenuous political situation…”

“You’d rather have pilots that don’t ask questions,” I said.

“Yes,” Arturo said, sounding relieved that I said it so he didn’t have to. Technically, as my commander, Arturo was supposed to tell me what I was doing wrong. But it clearly wasn’t his favorite part of the gig.

I kind of wished he’d just left me home and not told me why. Now I would spend the whole time replaying every word I’d ever said in his presence. “So I’m not coming with you.”

“Jorgen wants me to take you,” he said again. “But I need to know that you can be discreet and stick to the mission.”

This conversation was giving me whiplash. So I was invited…but only if I agreed not to talk much? “I can do that,” I said quickly. “We’ve been in difficult political situations before, and I didn’t mess anything up.”

“That’s true,” Arturo said. “But lately you’ve been…”

“Louder?” I suggested.

“More assertive,” Arturo said. “When you first came to the flight, you were happy to hang in the background. Maybe it’s because the flight’s smaller now, but it seems like you’re more comfortable asking questions and being, well, yeah, louder.”

I knew exactly what had changed. Our flight split up. One of my former wingmates was off working for the new DDF exploration team, getting to travel the galaxy and see exciting new planets every day. Another of my old wingmates now ran the DDF diplomatic corps, also traveling to new planets and meeting new, exciting alien people. Our old flightleader was the scudding admiral of the DDF. I wanted to distinguish myself the way they had, so I’d been trying harder.

But apparently all my efforts had earned me was a reputation for being unprofessional. A part of me wondered if he should leave me home, but the rest of me desperately wanted to meet these other humans and see what their lives were like.

Even if I wasn’t allowed to speak to them.

“I can be quiet,” I said. “If you bring me, I promise I won’t talk when I’m not supposed to.”

Arturo nodded. “Okay. I’ll forward the briefing to your datapad so you can prepare. We’re leaving in the morning, and tonight we’re gathering with the scouts and diplomatic team for a mission send-off.”

“You won’t regret bringing me,” I said.

“I’m counting on that,” he said, and walked away, leaving me standing outside the changing rooms.

I bounced a little on my feet. Maybe Arturo didn’t want to bring me along, but he was giving me a chance.

I needed to make it count.

Four

Sadie

That evening before the mission send-off, Gilaf knocked on the door to my bunk and leaned into the room. “I saw you were on the mission manifest,” he said in UrDail, his pin translating. “Now Arturo will not be responsible for your sadness.”

“No sadness here!” I said, looking over my outfit choices. As pilots, we basically only had two wardrobe options: flightsuits for flying and jumpsuits for…well, not jumping, but everything else that wasn’t flying. Which would include jumping, if you were so inclined. I made up for this sad lack of variety by accessorizing.

I didn’t have many options—just what I’d brought from home or managed to scavenge up here. I did have an array of hair clips that lay flat against my head to hold my hair back under my flight helmet, which were appropriately shiny, if not as brightly colored as I would have liked—but instead I sifted through my box of scarves and picked out a bright yellow one that contrasted with my blue hair. I rolled it into a strip and then wrapped it over the crown of my head, tied it down by my neck, and pulled my hair through it. Then I lined my eyes with a kohl pencil. Jewelry wasn’t allowed in the cockpit—not that I owned much of it—but eyeliner wasn’t considered a risk.

“Okay,” I said, adjusting my headband slightly. “I’m ready.”