Fall of Icarus (44 page)

           
Keryn smiled as she stood.
 
“So we’re leaving?”

           
“You’ll be departing tomorrow,” the Oterian replied.
 
“Good luck.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

           
Yen sat in the cramped confines of the engine compartment on board one of the
Cair
transport ships.
 
A series of tools lay strewn across the floor next to him, mostly forgotten.
 
For over three hours, Yen had been tinkering with the new warp generators that the High Council had installed on all the ships in his Squadron.
 
He couldn’t shake the sense of distrust both toward the generators and the Council, but found solace sitting and analyzing the new machines.
 
Even so, his interest in the generators had waned nearly an hour before and, since that time, he had remained in the engine compartment, lost in thought.

           
Focused on
his own
thoughts, Yen didn’t hear the hatch door on the
Cair
open, nor did he notice the soft, quiet steps as someone approached the back of the ship where Yen sat huddled.
 
He had left the engine compartment door open and was clearly visible to anyone inside the ship.
 
     

           
“Is this a private party or can anyone join?”
 

Yen looked over as Iana stooped lower, examining the engine and trying to deduce what caught Yen’s attention so intently.
 
With a brush of his hand, Yen pushed the tools aside.
 
Sliding over, Yen made room for Iana to squeeze into the engine compartment and take a confined seat beside him.

“You’ve been in here for hours with this thing,” she said, reaching out and running a finger along the top of the newly installed black cylinder.
 
“Since it’s still in one piece, I can only assume that you didn’t find anything interesting.
 
I mean, to keep your attention for all this time, I would expect the generator to be doing tricks.”

“No, nothing interesting,” Yen responded flatly.

Iana shrugged.
 
“From that sour expression, I’m guessing you heard the news.”

Yen picked up a wrench and turned it back and forth absently, letting it draw in his attention.
 
Eventually, he sighed heavily.
 
“I knew she’d be leaving soon, so I shouldn’t be surprised.
 
Somehow, I just thought we’d have more time together.
 
After all this time, I feel like I’m finally connecting with Keryn in ways I didn’t even know were possible.
 
But instead of us getting the chance to explore our relationship and see where it could lead, she’s going to be heading off on her mission.”

“When I was young,” Iana said softly, placing a hand on Yen’s arm, “my father always told me that it is not the decisions we make, but rather the decisions that are made for us, that define who we become.”

Yen looked up, confused.
 
“I don’t follow.”

“Would you agree that you’re at a pretty important crossroad in your life?”

Yen nodded.

“Well, right now you can choose one of two paths.
 
Either you can pine away for Keryn and hope day after day that both you and she will survive your missions, find one another, and convince the High Council not to separate you for missions ever again…”

Yen frowned.
 
“Or?”

“Or you accept that you don’t get to make a decision this time.
 
She’s leaving, no matter what you choose to do about it.
 
But right now we need a Squadron Commander who is focused on the mission ahead instead of being focused on the girl he’s leaving behind.”

“When did you suddenly become full of sage wisdom?” Yen asked moodily.

“Didn’t you know?
 
Big surprises; little packages.
 
I think the better question is: why do I get the feeling this is not the last time you and I are going to have this conversation?”

Yen smiled, but the mirth didn’t erase the sadness in his eyes.
 
Iana squeezed his arm gently, her own face filled with genuine concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Yen said, nodding.
 
“I guess I just didn’t expect to be so affected by Keryn leaving.”
 
Sighing, he rubbed his face with his hands.
 
“But you’re right; I do need to focus on something else for a while.”

At Yen’s urging, Iana climbed out of the cramped engine compartment and left the
Cair
ship with Yen close behind.
 
Finally in a more spacious area, Yen stretched and groaned as he tried to loosen stiff muscles.

“So what’s the first bit of business we need to take care of?” he asked, glad to have Iana close by to change the subject.

“Well, you do have an entire ground assault team still waiting to find out exactly what they’ll be doing once you land on the surface.”

Yen frowned.
 
He had been intentionally avoiding the ground assault team.
 
Though he was perfectly aware of how important the mission was to their successful invasion, Yen also knew that he would have to face Buren.
 
The idea of working so closely with a former teammate who so blatantly disliked Yen did not excite him.

“Later,” Yen muttered.
 
“What else do you have?”

Iana shrugged.
 
“So long as we’re on the topic of the invasion force, you still haven’t picked a pilot who’s going to take you down to the planet.”
 
She batted her eyes suggestively, to which Yen had no choice but laugh.
 
“Laugh if you want, but I’m serious.
 
You’re not going to find a better pilot than me.”

“I couldn’t agree more.
 
Unfortunately, that’s the exact reason why I can’t pick you to be my pilot.
 
You’re the best pilot I have, but you’re also a
Duun
pilot.
 
I need you in the air protecting my butt.
 
Without you, I won’t stand much of a chance of making it to the surface.”

“Well,” Iana conceded, “as long as we’re clear that it’s because I’m too good for you.
 
So if you’re not going to pick me to be your pilot, who are you going to pick?”

Yen began leading Iana away from the ship and toward the exit to the hangar bay.
 
Whether he liked it or not, he needed to head down to the briefing room and start working on the ground assault mission.
 
“I think I’m going to go with Warrant Pelasi.”

Iana stopped in mid-step.
 
“The Uligart?
 
The pilot who just got here?
 
You don’t even know him.”

“You’re right, I don’t know him.
 
But his former Squadron Commander gives him some glowing recommendations.
 
I have no doubt that he’s going to be a capable pilot.”

“A ‘capable’ pilot,” Iana chided.
 
“Remind me not to ask you for a letter of recommendation in the future.”

“Joke if you want to, but I also picked him because if he turns out to be useless as a pilot, I’ll always
be
there to take over.
 
I’d rather have him under adult supervision than out there in a
Duun
by himself.”

Nodding, Iana rejoined him as they walked toward the doorway.
 
When they passed through the hangar bay’s exit doors, Iana reached out and put a comforting hand on Yen’s shoulder.

“You know,” she said, “I’m sure we can take care of the maintenance checks for the rest of today.
 
Why don’t you spend the rest of the day with your lady?”

“I still have a lot of work to do…”

“All of which will still be here tomorrow,” Iana interjected.
 
“We’re just now at the Demilitarized Zone.
 
We still have, what, almost a month until we reach our launch coordinates?
 
We’ll have everything done well before then.
 
Take the time off now, while you still can.”

“You really are a lifesaver, Iana,” Yen said, smiling.
 
“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered.
 
“Do me a favor, won’t you?
 
Tell her bye.
 
I’m going to be so busy here with the ships, I won’t get a chance to be there when she leaves.”

“I will,” Yen agreed.

Iana smiled.
 
“Good.
 
Now get going.”

Though he continued smiling as he walked away, Yen couldn’t erase the sharp stab of regret in his chest, knowing that after tomorrow Keryn would be gone from his life.

           
The next morning, Yen carried Keryn’s bags as they approached the airlock.
 
The
Cair Ilmun
had already been launched from the hangar bay and was now docked to the exterior of the
Revolution
, ready for its departure.
 
Though the night before had been filled with a myriad of passionate emotions, the morning felt stale.
 
The pair walked in silence with an air of professionalism floating nearly palpably between them.
 
Keryn had changed out of her Fleet
uniform,
instead donning a pair of sturdy hide pants, a loose blue shirt, and a thin brown jacket.
 
Jutting from beneath the coat as she moved, Yen could see the pistol strapped to her hip.
 
Even simply dressed and with her hair halfheartedly pinned up, Yen found her increasingly irresistible.
 
Watching her walk calmly toward their inevitable separation, his heart pounded painfully in his chest.

           
As they exited the last lift that would bring them to the airlock, Yen found himself among a small group of soldiers, dressed in attire similar to that of Keryn’s.
 
A few other members of the
Revolution
were present as though saying farewell to the departing crew, but there were significantly less present than what Yen would have assumed.
 
Frowning, Yen realized why.
 
Most had other pressing tasks to accomplish with the pending assault on Earth only a month away.
 
To everyone else on board, Keryn’s mission was insignificant.
 
Yen had to concede that her mission was pretty insignificant to him as well.
 
It was the fact that she was leading the mission that drew him inexorably to the airlock.

           
The rest of Keryn’s crew met her with warm smiles and friendly waves.
 
A large Oterian with a dangerous scar running the length of his face took Keryn’s bags from Yen and disappeared through the hatch, loading the bags onto the
Cair Ilmun
.
 
The other members of her team went back to the minimalistic farewells that they were sharing with loved ones and friends.
 
Even those were brief and slowly, one by one, her team loaded on the ship, ready to depart.
 

           
From the far side of the vestibule, Penchant walked through the thinning crowd.
 
Not surprising to Yen, there wasn’t anyone around sharing their goodbyes with the aloof Lithid.
 
Adam, noticing Penchant walking past, broke away from the woman with whom he was saying intimate farewells and approached the pair as well.
 
Reaching out, the Pilgrim shook Yen’s hand before giving Keryn a hug.

           
“You ready for this?” Adam asked Keryn, his excitement undisguised.

           
“I don’t think we really have much of a choice,” Keryn said.
 
Yen could detect a hint of nervousness behind her words.