Fiearius’ arms dropped back down to his sides as he stared at him in disbelief, “You did what?” Shocked, he spun to Leta. “But–you had the CID when–”

“He had it for a while,” Leta admitted, not quite meeting his eyes. “You were dying, I had to focus on that, not–”

“So you let him borrow it?!”

Now, she did meet his stare, angry and defiant. “I didn’t have a choice, Fiearius, he didn’t give me a choice.”

“And even if I had, you made the right one,” Dez put in, pulling attention back his way. “Without my intervention — well, your intervention — the battle would have turned very quickly away from any side we favored. It would have turned into a slaughter. As it stands, Ellegy is liberated from outside clutches both Society and Carthian. The Rogue Verdant finally stepped up to his role and commanded the Society forces that have long looked to him for guidance, leading to the betterment of an entire planet.”

“You commanded the Society forces to join with the rebellion?” came Addy’s quiet demand. “You?”

“Technically he did.” Dez pointed to Fiearius.

“And they just….listened?” Corra asked, skepticism dripping from every word.

“Many of them, yes.”

“Why?” asked Finn. “Why suddenly switch sides just because you–Fiear told them to?”

“Because I gave them compelling reasons.”

Finally, Fiearius, who had been massaging the part of his temple that began hurting as soon as Dez started talking, snapped his eyes open. “What did you tell them?” There was an unfortunate note of panic in his voice.

Dez regarded him with what he could only assume was pride. “That the Council was decimated, that Carthis is closing in on their empirical endgame and that if they followed me–you–we could stand up and bring in a new age of the Society.” He shrugged. “Pretty straightforward.”

Fiearius, for quite some time, could do nothing but stare at the man standing before him. This fucker, who he’d known since the days of playgrounds and scraped knees, now trying to, once again, manipulate the course of his life to fit into his agenda. New age of the Society? Straightforward? The longer he stood there, stunned into silence, the more the anger boiled within him until at last, it exploded.

“Are you fucking crazy?!” He felt Cyrus jump away from him in surprise. “What the hell, Dez?!” He felt like hitting him. Hard. Very very hard. “Of all the fucked up things you’ve done–” He raised his fist and was about to give into his rage and lunge towards him, but a hand caught his arm and held it back.

It was Leta. She was staring up at him, her eyes ablaze and it gave him a moment’s pause. Only a moment’s. “Let go.”

“Hear him out,” she countered at once, and for a second he knew he must have heard her incorrectly.

“Hear him out?” he repeated incredulously. “Hear him out. You. Are telling me to hear him—HIM–out? You?”

“Fiear, have you looked around lately? We’re in an impossible situation here. With everything that’s happening on every planet we’ve touched, things are not good and our outlook is even worse.” She swallowed hard and he got the feeling she was swallowing her pride too to even say this. “So you need to hear him out. Because we need to know every option we have.”

Stunned as he was, Fiearius stared back at her. Then he looked around. Corra was thoughtful, Cyrus looked nervous, Addy, worried. Finn gave him a helpless shrug. And Fiearius let out a sigh.

“Fine.” He turned back to Dez, his eyes narrowed into slits. “What’s your plan here? Make your point and make it quick.”

Dez, who did not seem even the slightest bit concerned at any of these proceedings, did just as he was told. “You take your place as Verdant and command the Society forces that will listen to overthrow Carthis in the regions they’ve invaded and free Satieri from Council rule.”

It sounded so simple like that. So easy. So, as he said, straightforward, that Fiearius was laughing quietly when he said, “You want me to betray Carthis.”

“I want you to not betray the Society,” Dez corrected and Fiearius frowned at him.

“Little late for that.”

“It’s not. You’ve betrayed the Council. You’ve betrayed the system. Perhaps you’ve betrayed your planet, but you’ve not betrayed the Society because that’s not what the Society is.”

“Sure, it’s really just a bunch of sunshine and rainbows, not like they kill innocent people or use drugs to indoctrinate populations or destroy planets or anything,” Cyrus mumbled.

“Under order of the Council, yes. In the current system, absolutely. But the Society isn’t those things, the Society is a network of citizens. Ordinary people. People like us.” He gestured to himself and Fiearius. “People like you.” He waved towards Leta. “It’s a body of people doing what they think is right or people doing what they think they have to in order to survive. They don’t need to be invaded and killed, they don’t even need to be liberated. They just need new leadership.”

It was a fancy speech, perhaps the fanciest he’d ever heard Dez give. So much so that he wondered if someone had coached him in it. Varisian maybe? Or one of his other followers? But fancy as it was, it didn’t put him at ease.

“And you think I should be that new leadership?”

“Absolutely. You’re the Verdant.”

“Not anymore I’m not,” he argued.

“Doesn’t matter. The people know you as their Verdant. You’re the most qualified. You’ve successfully commanded a fleet for half a decade. You know the intricacies of this conflict probably better than anyone. And they look to you already. Carthis made sure of that.”

Fiearius snorted in disbelief. “If you’re trying to sell me as the new leader of a free Society, I’m pretty sure joining up with Carthis and killing them all did the opposite.”

But Dez was shaking his head. “Carthis recruited you precisely because you’re sympathetic to the Society. They’ve used your image to prove that they’re not the merciless conquerors they are. Why would the Verdant, a man who understood what it was like on the inside of the Society, how hard it is to get out, team up with a government that didn’t have their best interests at heart? Then they put you in situations to prove that. How many times did you show mercy to agents who stood against you? How many did you save despite being on opposing sides? Whether they know it or not, they built your reputation for you.”

There was a part of Fiearius that thought maybe he was right about all this. Maybe this really was an option available to him, that he could control the good parts of the Society, the parts that weren’t brainwashed into servitude, and fix everything he’d done. Everything that Carthis had done.

And then there was the logical part.

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Dez rolled his eyes. “Fiearius, what happened when Society defectors on Vescent surrendered to Carthis after the battle?”

Leta was the one who answered. “They were captured and imprisoned. Offered forgiveness and then locked away to be forgotten.”

“And how much of Vescent was part of the Society? Maybe eight percent? Ten max? They were still new there, still growing.” Dez fixed his stare on Fiearius and for the first time since he’d known him, he actually looked like he believed in something when he said, “What’s going to happen when Carthis takes over Ellegy? Or Satieri? Where that number is closer to sixty percent. What happens to a planet after sixty percent of its population is deemed criminal and disappears?”

Silence fell over the room and every pair of eyes was on Dez, but his stare was locked onto Fiearius, his jaw clenched and his fists balled at his side. “Things are coming to a head now in this war, we all know that,” he went on, his tone low and quiet. “There’s not much time left. You need to consider who you are and what you stand for. And if I can’t convince you, so be it. But you said it yourself. Under slightly different circumstances, you and I could still be back there on Satieri, getting assassination orders every afternoon and being home in time for dinner.” He lifted his hands helplessly. “Take the time you need. But there’s a flock of our kin and a fleet of ships awaiting your orders.”

Dez raised his hand to his forehead in a half-hearted salute before taking a few steps backwards and then turning back towards his ship, leaving the group in a hushed, hurried discussion of what he’d said. All except Fiearius, who could do little more than stare at the black ship as it rose off the hangar floor and sailed out into space.

He couldn’t hear what those around him were saying, whether they agreed, whether they thought the whole thing was crazy. He didn’t really want to. He only remembered they were still there when he felt a hand brush against his softly, a fleeting touch of warmth.

Leta was watching him, intense and serious. She asked the question he didn’t want to hear. The question he had no idea how to answer. “What are you going to do?”

“Sorry, you can go, you definitely don’t need to listen to me rant.” She waved him towards the door. “I’m fine, really.” But Fiearius didn’t walk away. Instead, he sat down next to her.

“I know you are.”

“I’m not upset about him,” Leta told him affirmatively. “Or anything he said.”

“Didn’t think you were.”

Leta clenched her hands in her lap and let out a sigh. “The whole thing just got me thinking too much. About the things that are really important to me. The things that matter and the things I can’t compromise on. Things like –” She picked up the tablet Corra had left beside her and tossed it onto the furthest cushion, her expression crinkled in disgust. “That. And then–things I can compromise on, things I can forgive. Or things I should have forgiven.” She glanced over at him, feeling more nervous than she cared to admit, though he only gave a thoughtful nod as he propped his chin in his hands and stared off at the wall opposite them.

Before she could consider the implications, she asked, “Did I do the right thing?” Now, he glanced over at her, questioning. “You know, back then. When you and me–” She hesitated and shook her head. “I know, it’s ancient history now. It doesn’t matter, but I can’t stop thinking about it. When I left. Should I have stayed?”

Fiearius considered her for a long, almost uncomfortably long time. She found herself watching his clouded eye because it was easier to meet than the one that searched her intently. Finally, he drew a deep breath and said, “Well. I wish you had,” which was an answer that threw Leta off not because she hadn’t thought it was true but moreover that he wouldn’t say it if it was. But only moments later he met her gaze again and said firmly, “But no. No, you shouldn’t have.”

When Leta just stared at him, lost for words, he sighed again and said, “Look, you want my opinion? You always expect the best out of people because you always give the best out of yourself. And sometimes, for a lot of us, myself definitely included–” He grimaced. “–it’s really hard to meet those standards. But. That’s on us. Not you. Stick to your guns, they’re all you’ve got in this shithole of a Span.”

Catching Leta a little off-guard, Fiearius brought his fingers up to her chin and lifted her head to face him. “Don’t you ever change for anybody, okay?”

She provided him a weak smile, but couldn’t conjure an appropriate response. She wasn’t even sure what an honest answer would be. She couldn’t place what she was feeling in that moment, let alone vocalize it. So he stepped in for her, reaching past her to grab that tablet again. “Oh and fuck this guy. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Leta snorted a laugh as Fiearius got to his feet. “So I shouldn’t fuck him then?”

Fiearius paused and looked down at her curiously before letting out a sharp laugh and shrugging dramatically. “Who am I to tell you what to do?”

Suddenly, the COMM on Corra’s wall lit up and its owner’s voice asked, “Hey is Fiear still up there?”

“Whatcha need, princess?” Fiearius called back.

“Not sure, but this hail we’re getting? We–uh–think it’s for you?”

——————-

As it turned out, the strangely masked signal was for him and once Fiearius got to the bridge and heard the message himself, he was unsurprised. “Bit of a rude way to say hello,” Finn had remarked and Fiearius had simply shook his head. It was just like Dez.

The whole lot of them (Leta, Corra, Finn, even Cyrus and Addy who they’d passed along the way) joined him as he watched Dez’s sleek black ship dock in the Beacon’s hangar from the viewport above, curious as to what this was about. Leta knew, Fiearius got the feeling. She’d mentioned she had spoken with Desophyles briefly when she’d given him the Verdant CID back, but insisted he hear the rest of the story from the man himself. Fiearius hadn’t sought him out on purpose. He’d show up on his own eventually.

And here he was, marching down the ramp into the pressurized hangar with all his usual pomp and circumstance, acting as though nothing was out of the ordinary. Fiearius and his entourage met him halfway across the bay and gave no word of greeting. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

Dez stopped a good three meters away and seemed to size Fiearius up with his gaze. “You’re looking better than when I last saw you,” he surmised at last.

Fiearius responded with a tight, humorless smile. “No thanks to you.”

If Dez cared, he didn’t show it. Instead, he moved on, business-like as ever. “I have much to catch you up on.”

“I bet.”

“Shall we speak privately?”

Fiearius glanced to his side at Leta. She looked straight back at him and frowned dully. Don’t you dare try and send me away, he imagined her saying. So he turned back to Dez and shrugged. “Nope.”

Dez hesitated for a moment, examining the gathering one by one, perhaps wondering how each was going to affect whatever it was he had to say. If Leta didn’t shut him down immediately, Cyrus probably would. Finn and Corra were notorious for pointing out anything that was illogical and Addy, though typically polite and kind, didn’t have the time or patience for bullshit. He was outnumbered and he knew it.

Still, he didn’t have a choice so finally he relented. “Very well. I suppose I should start by clearing up what happened on Ellegy.”

“You somehow convinced the rebellion to betray Carthis and blow up the city for you,” Fiearius put in helpfully.

“Blow up the city for them,” Dez corrected. “But yes. Essentially. We needed leverage to bargain the return of the planet once Carthis’ invasion was complete.”

“Sure, sure, stupid plan, but I got that part.” It was all over the news, how could he not? They didn’t know it was Dez behind it, of course, but putting the pieces together was easy enough. What he cared more about was the incident that had gnawed at him for the past two weeks. Those two words that had been the last thing he’d heard before he slipped into the cold embrace of death.

“Tell me about Varisian.”

Dez’s stony exterior faltered for only a moment. Had the question surprised him? Had he forgotten about that piece of the puzzle? Or was the sound of her name just something he wasn’t prepared for?

A half second later, his answer was typically collected however. “She wasn’t meant to kill you,” he clarified. “That was an unfortunate side effect of bad timing. You weren’t supposed to even be there when she arrived. Her mission was to gain access to the Councillor’s chambers under the guise of protecting her and–”

“So I was right,” Fiearius cut him off. “She was working with you.”

Dez blinked at him. “Yes.” As though this was obvious and required no additional explanation. Fiearius barely stopped himself from gaping.

“What. The fuck.”

“Yes, she was working with me,” he confirmed again, apparently confused by the apparent need for elaboration.

Fortunately, Leta stepped in before Fiearius’ frustration got the better of him. “Since Vescent, right?” It sounded like a guess. “The two of you captured her on Vescent and you took her–somewhere. And convinced her to work with you?”

He nodded. “I had her in my custody for some time. We found that we agreed on many things. But we both knew she was still more useful in her current role, staying close to the Council. We parted ways, but remained in contact to collaborate on operations from either side.”

“Wait a minute,” put in Cyrus, stepping forward from behind his brother. “If she was working for you, why the hell did she keep trying to set everyone on fire?”

“She wasn’t. Her tasks were to assist the missions. She lead us to the Ascendian Councillor in the bunker. She convinced Calimore to provide his research. She–”

“She burned half my arm off!” Fiearius snapped suddenly, raising his gnarled forearm for all to see.

Dez just shrugged. “She didn’t know you were going to stick around once the base was burning down. She was just trying to direct you to where you needed to be. The fire thing was her idea, I don’t know where that came from.” Fiearius eyed him skeptically until he admitted, “Alright, I may have told her the Pieter Roland story. And she still never liked you.”

“Hell of a way to show it…” Finn muttered behind him.

“She was, however, somewhat singular in that opinion,” Dez went on briskly, which was perhaps the weirdest way anyone had ever told Fiearius that he was likeable, a strange statement in and of itself. “Amongst defectors and doubters, you are quite popular.”

“Well,” Fiearius snapped, unimpressed. “I’m flattered.”

“You shouldn’t be. It has little to do with you and more to do with what you represent,” Dez corrected and it was all Fiearius could do to keep himself from slapping his palm to his forehead. “Regardless, those amongst the Society are looking to you. Which is exactly why I did what I did on Ellegy.”

Finally, they were getting to the meat of it. “And what, exactly, did you do?”

“I used your Verdant chip to send out a message in your name to anyone within the Society willing to listen and consider joining the defectors.”

“Right now they’ve got Fiear’s fleet holding the skies above the planet, not that anyone’s contested it, while Carthis is organizing more troops on the ground for a systematic battlefront like they did on Ascendia.”

Liam shot her a grimace. “They’re willingly comparing it to Ascendia? So bloodshed, bloodshed, and more bloodshed.”

“From the sounds of it. The whole operation turned into a mess.”

“What I don’t understand,” Liam posed thoughtfully. “Is why the Ellegian rebels who have spent, gods, years fighting the Society, would suddenly rejoin them in the midst of battle. I know Carthis kind of screwed them by leaving them out of the plans, but that doesn’t sound like a reason to completely change their tune.”

Leta regarded him sideways, her lips pursed and a frown creasing her brow. She couldn’t tell Fiearius what she had uncovered about the battle of Ellegy, not yet, as much as it was killing her not to. But she could tell Liam, couldn’t she? He’d proved enough times over that he was trustworthy with information and frankly, she needed this off her chest before it burst. So though she knew she probably should have stayed quiet, she instead said, “They didn’t. The Society did.”

Liam turned to her and tilted his head. “How do you figure?”

Well she was into it now. No going back. She took a deep breath, swung her legs up onto the couch and turned towards him entirely. “You know about Desophyles Cordova?”

“The terrorist?”

“He’s not–” Leta faltered. Gods, she was sounding like Fiearius. “Yes, him. He was on Ellegy during the battle. Fiear–” She cut herself off suddenly and narrowed her eyes. “This is off the record, by the way. All of this. This can’t get out, I–”

Liam waved off her concern. “Of course, it always is. I’d never publish anything you told me in private. So go on. Fiearius….?”

She drew in another breath. “Fiearius invited Dez to help him with the Councillor mission. They met up on the planet and he went with him for a while, but Dez had this other agenda. One that included blowing up half the city…”

Liam’s mouth fell open in shock. “I thought that was the rebels.”

“It was. Sort of. When Carthis cut them out, they teamed up with him and his followers. The explosions were all part of this convoluted plan they had to distract Carthis and the Society enough to take prisoners as leverage against each.”

“Oh yeah, I heard something about that. They’re in negotiations to get them back.”

Leta nodded and muttered, “Yeah, update on that, Carthis isn’t willing to give them anything they want…So that’s not looking very promising.”

“Great plan.”

“It wasn’t the only plan though,” Leta confessed, her voice getting even quieter. There was no chance anyone was listening, but she could never be too careful. It just didn’t feel right to say any of this so loud. “Dez was working with this woman, Ophelia Varisian, I think I told you about her?”

“The blonde psycho arsonist?” Liam put in and Leta couldn’t help but smirk a little.

“They’ve been working together for a while, though with the shit she pulls, you’d hardly know it. She’s been still following the orders of the Society Council all this time, but I guess collaborating with Dez as well, passing him intel, helping him out where she could. She was supposed to reach the Ellegian Councillor before Fiearius did and use her to gain access to the system and call off the Society’s attack. Which was coming. Quickly. The Ellegian fleet destroyed the CORS and turned right around. If they’d arrived, Carthis would have been overwhelmed and lost the air battle too. Our forces would be decimated.”

“But you told me this Varisian was killed,” Liam pointed out hesitantly. “And the fleet still didn’t return…”

“Because there was a second contingency.” Now, Leta glanced over her shoulder. Just in case. “He used Fiearius’ Verdant chip to command the fleet and tell them to turn around.”

Liam’s eyes grew wide. “And the ground troops? He–”

Leta nodded. “Ordered them to join with the Rebels.”

The news had hit her just as hard as it hit Liam now. He stood up from the couch and started pacing back and forth, his hand on his head. “Are you telling me…that that terrorist…is in command of the entire Society arsenal?”

“No no,” Leta assured him, leaning forward. “Only those that listened. A lot are still loyal to their Council over their Verdant of course, but I guess whatever he told them was compelling because the half that didn’t head immediately to Exymeron on the remaining Councillor’s orders did as Dez asked.” Before Liam could rephrase his question, presumably to ask if that terrorist controlled half of the Society’s fleet, Leta added, “And he doesn’t have the chip anymore anyway.”

Liam stopped pacing to look at her. “Who does?”

Leta grimaced uncomfortably and raised her hand a few inches in the air. “But I’m not using it. I’m giving it back to Fiearius as soon as he’s on his feet again.” It was Dez’s only condition to returning it to her caretaking and one she had little trouble agreeing with. Despite Fiearius losing the CID, it was still his as far as Leta was concerned. As for what to do with it–

“Then you have to give it back now,” Liam said suddenly. “Give it back and make him put it to good use. He can call off the Society troops on Ellegy and end the bloodshed before it begins.”

But Leta shook her head. “In his current state, I’m not risking that. The wrong stimuli and he could destabilize, go back to the seizures. We’ve already lost him before, I’m not contributing to that happening again. Even so, he would never do what you’re suggesting. Calling off the Society would mean Carthis plows through the rebels and takes Ellegy for themselves. For once, Dez actually did something kind of helpful.” The words tasted bitter in her mouth even as she praised him.

“Gods.” Liam gazed into the middle distance, looking so struck that Leta reached out to take his hand. He sucked in a deep breath, his eyes glassy. “I wish you hadn’t told me this.”

It was not the response she expected. “What?”

He started to laugh, quiet and strained, a little manic. “It’s just gonna make it so much harder.”

“Make what harder?”

Liam looked down at her and tightened his jaw, as though he was considering something very serious indeed. Finally, he nodded to himself and drew a tablet out of his bag. He switched it on and handed it to her. “Read this.”

Leta took the device, curious as to what this was about, and began to read the document open on the screen. It was a news report about Ellegy, but none of it was right. It described the battle that had taken place a week ago, but it read so wrong Leta barely recognized it, painting Carthis as saviors from on high and the Ellegian rebellion as treacherous scum out to get them every step of the way. The article ended abruptly, like it hadn’t been finished yet, on a line that outright blamed the people of Ellegy for the noble Carthian lives that had been lost.

The words left Leta stunned.

“What is this?” she breathed.

“My latest piece,” barked Liam bitterly. “What do you think?”

She looked up at him, her eyes round. “You’re joking,” she said flatly, not even as a question. Of course he was joking. There was no way this was real. No chance that this was truly his work.

“I wish I was.” He turned away from her and made a circle around the coffee table. “Obviously not done though. Just wait til I put in Gates’ interview.” He laughed again, even more panicked this time. “It really puts the nail in the coffin, you’ll see.”

Leta got to her feet. “You’re not publishing this.” He didn’t meet her stare. Perhaps couldn’t. “You can’t publish something like this. We need peace between Carthis and Ellegy. Not–” She shook the tablet towards him. “This will just give people another enemy to hate.”

“Oh yes,” Liam agreed, spinning around to face her finally. “That’s entirely the point.”

This didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. Liam knew the delicate balance of politics in this war. He and Leta were on the same page. They agreed. That’s why they had gotten along so well in the first place.

“I don’t understand.”

He met her gaze sadly for a moment and then sighed. “The outlook out there is bad right now. Ellegy was a series of mistakes and everyone knows it. The upper Carthian brass want the media to turn public opinion in their favor. They contacted my editor who contacted me and now–” He gestured towards the device in her hand. “Well you can see the results.”

But Leta was already shaking her head. “You can’t publish this,” she said again.

Liam let out an exasperated laugh. “I don’t really have a choice, Leta.”

“You do. You could not write it.”

His eyebrows shot up on his forehead. “Oh I can just not do it? Gee, why didn’t I think of that?” He rolled his eyes and paced around the coffee table again.

A spike of anger ran through her. “You can just not do it. You should just not do it! Why are you doing it?”

“Because they’re forcing my hand!” he snapped. “It’s not that easy, Leta. Even if I didn’t do it, somebody else would.”

“Fine, but it doesn’t have to be you!”

Liam let out a groan and put his hands over his face. “You don’t understand. This is my job. My career. I can’t just not do it. My editor asks me to write? I write. I don’t write, I don’t get paid. It’s pretty non-negotiable.”

“Non-negotiable?” Leta couldn’t believe her ears. “Liam, these are lives at stake here. This whole war is hanging in the balance right now, one little tilt and everything could fall apart. Everything we’ve worked for. You can’t just let that happen, gods, contribute to it because,” the words fell out of her mouth dripping in spite, “your editor told you to.”

He groaned again, louder this time and tore his hands away to look at her squarely. “Yes, actually, I can. And I will.” Leta opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off, “Look, it’s all nice that you can stand up on your moral high horse and tell me what’s right and what’s good, but those of us on the ground don’t have that option, okay? At the end of the day, I need a paycheck and a promise of more paychecks so I can just survive.”

“So you’re just willing to completely sell yourself out,” she accused, crossing her arms over her chest and regarding him with disgust. “Sell out all of Ellegy. So you can get paid.”

“Yeah, Leta, I am,” he spat back. “Because some of us still have to actually work and get on with our lives through this war. Not all of us are lucky enough to just get taken in and taken care of by the Carthian military because their ex-boyfriend is an admiral.”

Leta’s mouth fell open in shock. The anger she’d felt suddenly turned to rage. “Excuse me?!”

“You know what, just forget it,” he growled, reaching out and seizing the tablet from her hand and turning towards the door. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh I understand.” It was pure fury keeping her going now as she chased after him. “I understand that you’re a coward. I understand that you’re willing to sacrifice your integrity at the drop of a hat. I understand that–”

“You–” he snapped suddenly, turning on his heel and pointing at her. “You really need a reality check, you know that? Or actually–you know what? Maybe I’m the one who needs a reality check.” He barked a single humorless laugh. “I thought you were passionate and caring and focused. Turns out? You were just self-righteous.”

Before she could get another word in, he swung open the door and walked out. It slammed shut behind him, leaving Leta alone, her mind racing, her chest heaving and her hands at her sides trembling.

“For a man who recently died twice and underwent three surgeries, you still have enough energy to be an ornery old ass, don’t you?” she couldn’t help but point out.

Fiearius snorted his indignance. “I’m not old.” Apparently he didn’t feel the need to contest the other two accusations.

By all accounts, it was miraculous that Fiearius was even alive, let alone awake and feeling well enough to argue just a week after the Battle of Ellegy. Sure, he looked and sounded like he’d been hit by a freight train, but even exhausted and confined to a bed, after everything that had happened back in that tower, if he was already a fraction of the Fiearius she knew, Leta would take it.

Certainly the medical facilities and staff on Carthis proper had been a major contributing factor. From the moment Fiearius had arrived on the planet, there had been a constant barrage of people working their hardest to get him stabilized. Admiral Gates himself had apparently issued an order to the chief of staff that Fiearius’ treatment was the hospital’s highest priority. Their top physicians checked on him regularly, the nurses were constantly bringing him anything he asked for and Leta was certain he had the best view of the city in the building. Carthis clearly wanted him to survive this war more than he gave them credit for.

But as well as Fiearius had been doing and as grateful as Leta was that her calculated risk had paid off with the revival device she’d installed in him, his recovery was not without its side effects.

“Unless you can fix this.” Fiearius lifted his hand and waved it in front of his face. As he did, a surge of some sort overtook him, starting in his hand and a shudder that rolled up his arm, through his shoulders and made him grit his teeth uncomfortably. It lasted just a moment before he took in a deep breath and shook it off. “Or that. I’d rather not with the poking and the prodding.”

She sighed as she leaned against the table, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Are the twitches getting any better?”

“Not as painful anymore,” he admitted. “Just as irritating.”

“What about frequency?”

“Still once every hour or so.”

She tugged nervously on the stethoscope around her neck and crossed the room to pick up the tablet that displayed his chart. “I’d like to prescribe something for them, but I think it’s too soon to risk it,” she mumbled, mostly to herself as she scanned down the screen. “With the way your body reacted to the drugs I had to give you, I’d be hesitant to add more into your system…”

Fiearius, as he usually did when she tried to talk to him about serious medical issues, stopped paying attention. “All I wanna know is if this shit is permanent,” he groaned, dramatically dropping back against the pillows.

Leta looked up at him, feeling an ounce of remorse. It was her device that had caused the troubles that plagued him now that the bullet was removed and his wounds sewn shut. She’d hoped and prayed that it would keep him alive which it had, just barely, but she hadn’t known it would also cause blindness and regular muscle spasms…

“I can’t say for certain.” She could hear the apology seeping through her tone. Her fingers fiddled with the switch on the tablet. “We never tested that amount on a live subject. I’m not sure what the longterm effects are. If the twitches don’t stop on their own with time, there might be something we can do pharmaceutically. In regards to your left eye, I can get you in touch with an opthalmologist, they’d have a better idea of what we’re dealing with and what your options are, but–“

“Hey.” She looked up at him across the room and he was watching her with a frown creasing his brow. “This isn’t your fault, y’know? Well–” He cut himself off and shrugged. “It is, but I’m only lettin’ you take credit for the fact that I’m still breathing at all. The rest of this crap?” He rolled his eyes and lifted his hands helplessly. “My own damn fault for gettin’ killed to begin with.”

Leta felt a smile come to her face. “I did tell you to be careful.”

“And I never listen,” he replied with a grin himself.

“So I’ve been keeping tabs with Javier,” Leta changed the subject swiftly, laying the tablet back on the counter and leaning against the counter. “You have about a thousand messages waiting for you once you’re ready.”

Fiearius’ grin slackened into disappointment. “You have to remind me?”

“Hey, I’m the one who’s fielding everything from Gates for you.”

“I told him to go through Quin, she’s handling the fleet ‘til I’m back in action.”

“Yes, well he doesn’t like Quin’s answers so he goes to me. And I tell him to go to Quin and he just asks for you. And since you’re stuck here–”

“–and not even keeping up with what’s going on out there–”

“It’s a good thing you’re not actually dead, this whole effort would fall apart without you,” she mused. “Anyway, point being.” She crossed the room and patted the edge of his bed cheerfully. “Enjoy your break while it lasts.”

And a true break it was, Leta knew. The Carthian doctors had, in fact, ordered that Fiearius be told next to nothing about the aftermath of the Ellegian battle to keep his stress levels down. For once, he had actually agreed with medical advice. Of course, when it benefitted him, he was the perfect patient. Still, Leta was having a hard time not discussing the situation with him. Especially the piece of information she couldn’t share with anyone else.

Desophyles, to Leta’s surprise and true to his word, had contacted her shortly after she’d landed on Carthis to check on Fiearius’ condition and arrange to return the Verdant CID to her. Not sure how long his good spell was going to last, she snuck away from the hospital the very next night and convinced Eve, Richelle and the rest of the Dionysian crew to take her to the nearby moon to retrieve it from him. It was there on that desolate battle-torn wasteland Carthis had won from Exymeron years past and then promptly abandoned that Dez uncharacteristically provided her an explanation. Or half of one at least. She presumed only Fiearius would get the full story out of him.

But as Leta absently thumbed the tiny chip in her pocket, thankfully removed from its previous owner’s wrist, she forced herself to keep her mouth shut. Fiearius didn’t need the stress. Especially that stress. Not while he still had recovering to do.

“Yeah because sitting in a hospital is my definition of enjoyment,” he grumbled, waving his hand towards the window. “Really enjoying this break from the monotony of–” He cut himself off dramatically and put his fingers to his chin. “Wait…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be back to it soon enough and there’s plenty to do.” Leta grimaced and Fiearius tilted his head, curious, for just a moment, before he seemed to remind himself that he didn’t care, wouldn’t care, shouldn’t care, and shrugged. “Anyway. I’ll let you get some rest, but maybe I’ll swing by–”

Suddenly, down the hall, but loud enough to be heard by likely the entire floor, came a mighty yell. At least, as mighty as a five year old girl could manage.

“O’rian!” echoed through the hospital, followed by the hurried patter of tiny feet running at full speed.

“Kalli, wait!” came a second shout, then the crash of a body meeting a medical cart, a curse and a woman’s laugh.

Leta met Fiearius’ glance and he grinned. The footsteps were coming towards them so Leta stepped out into the hallway and put her hands on her hips as the bushy haired girl plowed towards her. In her wake, papers had scattered, equipment had been dropped and a few nurses looked shell-shocked. Still back by the elevators, Addy was helping Cyrus back to his feet. She glanced up and waved at Leta. Leta waved back just as Kalli slammed on the brakes and jumped in front of her. “A’iya!” she shouted in greeting.

“Right this way,” Leta cooed and swept her arms towards the door. Kalli looked up, met her uncle’s smiling face and burst straight into the room, leaping onto Fiearius’ bed and throwing her tiny arms around his shoulders.

“O’rian!” she shouted again as Fiearius laughed loud and more cheerful than he’d been all week.

“There’s my little monster.” Carefully, he pried her arms from him and held her back to get a good look at her. “L’asi de foriniso p’ahti na?” he asked. She nodded enthusiastically. “Ti’arim!” Then he held up both hands and she slapped them excitedly.

Watching Fiearius with his niece had always been something that Leta found both adorable and, for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, or perhaps just didn’t want to, uncomfortable. Uncomfortable somewhere very deep inside of her and in a way that made her cringe at herself. Why was it that humanity had come so far in evolution and technology and yet she still couldn’t fight off such a simple thing as primal maternal instinct?

Regardless, she felt her cheeks flush as if she’d done something wrong when suddenly Cyrus was beside her asking, “How is he?” Addy joined him moments later.

She didn’t look at them, determined to hide her embarrassment as she answered, “See for yourself.”

Kalli had seized Fiearius’ hand and was jumping up and down with it like it was a prized toy while Fiearius laughed heartedly.

“Issyen,” Cyrus scolded and she looked over at her parents in alarm. And then glee.

“O’rian, p’ahti told me you died!”

Cyrus put his hand on his forehead as Addy asked him, “You told her what?”

But Fiearius just laughed it off and told Kalli as though imparting a mysterious secret, “Oh, I did. I am the living dead.” He raised his hands threateningly and made a monstrous face, but the little girl seemed unimpressed.

“You don’t look like a zombie.”

“Yeah well, just wait til my flesh starts to rot off.”

“Wh–don’t tell her that,” Cyrus finally stepped in, marching into the room and swooping Kalli off the bed into his arms. The siblings continued to bicker as Kalli squealed in delight and wriggled her way out of her father’s arms. Perhaps it was the sudden excess of noise or simply her own exhaustion catching up to her, but Leta tuned them out and turned to Addy.

“I’m gonna take a bit of a break, leave you all to catch up. I’ll be back at the base if you need to get in touch with me.”

Addy just smiled at her. “Take as much time as you need.” She took a deep breath and looked into the room with a determined grimace. “I can handle this lot.”

Leta let out a chuckle, pat her on the shoulder and wished her, “Good luck,” as she retreated down the hall.

——————

Icy rain pounded the windows of Leta’s temporary room on the base where she’d chosen to retreat for a few hours. So much for summer on Carthis, she thought absently as she sat on the sofa, scrolling through headlines on the glowing tablet in her hand. The weather made her wonder how long she would be on the base — if she would see another famously brutal Carthian winter. If Fiearius would.

A knock made her blink and sit up. The door slid open, and Liam appeared, offering a watered-down smile through the scruff on his face.  “Well, Gates is just as strange as you said he would be,” he said by way of greeting, shrugging off his rain-soaked coat. “He was drinking whiskey, too. You were right on all fronts.”

“As usual,” Leta agreed, just as Liam bent to give her a kiss hello. “I’m surprised he even agreed to the interview, Gates is particularly tight-lipped these days.”

“Let’s not talk about Gates while I’m kissing you, hm?” Liam mumbled against her mouth, then drew away. He dropped onto the edge of the sofa, and Leta thought she saw a shadow pass over his face: he was not entirely at ease. In fact, his voice was a little too casual, too light-hearted, when he asked,  “How’re you? How’s the other admiral doing?”

“His vision hasn’t fully restored, and he’s still having muscle spasms … “ Briefly, the horrible image of Fiearius twitching came to her mind, but she pushed it away. “He’s recovering more and more though and his family just landed today so I left him in good spirits.”

“That’s great,” Liam said, though his tone hardly matched his words. “That’s really great.”

This wasn’t like him. Liam was always talkative and enthused and interested in any and all news Leta had for him. At the very least he paid attention instead of absently flicking the top of his shoe. “Are you alright?” she had to ask.

Liam opened his mouth, then closed it again. “A lot on my mind. Like everyone else around here.”

Leta grimaced. “Did Gates give you any updates on the Ellegy situation?”

“Nothing you didn’t already know.” Finally, he leaned back against the couch and threw an arm loosely around her shoulders. “Carthis defeated the Society’s air forces, but the rebels on the ground switched sides to rejoin the Society and amassed in too large a number, forcing them to retreat,” he recited. “They’re still calling it a victory though, y’know? I think they might need to look up the definition of the word.”

“It’s the media calling it that, not the military. Not behind closed doors anyway,” Leta corrected, leaning against him as she sighed. “If the war council meeting we had yesterday was about a victory, I’m worried what it would look like if we lost.”

“So what’s their plan?”