It's been a month since that first successful raid. Every week we've been hitting their supplies, burning them before they can reach their destination. We've been careful, strategic. Each attack is planned meticulously, each move calculated. We've been successful, so far. No casualties on our side, minimal risk. The aliens are still caught off guard, still underestimating us. But that won't last forever. They'll adapt, they'll change their tactics. And we'll be ready for it.
The raids have been exhilarating, each one a small victory in this war we're waging. But they're also draining, both physically and emotionally. The constant state of alertness, the adrenaline, the stress...it takes its toll. But we push through, because we have to. Because the alternative is unacceptable.
We've been rotating who goes on the raids, giving everyone a chance to rest, to recover. But I've been on every single one. I can't not be. I need to be there, need to see it through. It's my plan, my strategy. I need to be a part of it, need to make sure it goes smoothly.
Alistair is always with me, my constant shadow, my partner in crime. He's just as invested as I am, just as determined. Together, we make a good team, our skills complementing each other, our instincts in sync. It's... it's nice. Having him there, knowing he has my back. It makes the fear more manageable, the danger less daunting.
The next raid is different. It's the most dangerous one. If we just keep hitting their supply lines, they'll adapt. They'll be prepared, and we'll eventually walk into a trap. I know that. That's why the next one is far more daring... and dangerous.
We'll be splitting into four teams. Two people each will go to the remaining nearby depots and hangars. In the middle of the night, we set the charges Maren's been carefully preparing, and we blow them all sky high, along with any ships inside, simultaneously. One person goes in and out, the other person is ready to help extract if necessary, and is the getaway driver otherwise.
It's... terrifying. If anything goes wrong it's going to be on this one. The end of our 'war' could happen tonight- even if some of us still survive, it would still be an effective end if things go wrong.
That...is two days from now. I sit on my cot, and I... I don't know what to think. My heart is racing just thinking about it, my palms are sweating. I'm scared. So damn scared. But I'm also... determined. This is our chance. Our opportunity to really hurt them. To show them that we're not just pests, that we're a real threat. And I can't let that go to waste, no matter how much it scares me.
I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I look up to see Alistair, looming over me.
"Can I sit here?" He asks, gesturing to the bed.
I nod, moving over to make room for him. He sits down, his thigh pressing against mine, his warmth seeping into me. It's comforting, grounding. I lean into him, my head resting on his shoulder.
"Nervous?" He asks, his voice soft.
"Yeah." I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "What if... what if it goes wrong?"
"I wont." He said, voice firm. "I'll be watching your back."
I smile, despite the fear, despite the anxiety. "I know." I do know. He's always been there, always had my back. I trust him. Implicitly. "I just... I want this to work. I need it to."
"It will." He says, his hand covering mine, his fingers lacing through mine. "We've planned for everything. We're ready for this, Sarah."
I squeeze his hand, drawing strength from his touch, his words. "Yeah. Yeah, we are." I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart, my churning stomach. "We can do this."
"That's the spirit." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple. "We'll make them regret ever messing with us."
"I... hope so." I swallow. "They've taken so much from us. If we can finally make them hurt... make them scared... maybe that's enough."
"It isn't." He says, his voice low, intense. "It'll never be enough. Nothing will ever be enough for what they did."
I look up at him. "Alistair..."
He swallows and looks down at his hands, which are gripped on his knees. There's that look in his eyes. That intense, angry look I've seen so many times now. What he's always...
Just put up a wall around every time I ask.
My hand touches his shoulder, and I lean in just a touch closer to him. I don't know... what to say. That's. So ridiculous, isn't it? After all this time, after how much we've done together, how much I've changed since being dragged to this planet...
I still don't know how to talk to, how to get my boyfriend to open up to me.
I swallow, and my hand falls from his shoulder.
"I..." His voice breaks the silence that has fallen between us. It's low, rough. Raspy - even more than usual. Thick with pain. "Lost. Something. They took. Someone important to me, Sarah."
Someone... important?
My chest tightens. I don't... I don't want to know. I don't want to know what he might have lost. I don't want to imagine Alistair having someone more important to him. Someone-
It's just... jealousy. It's just. I hate myself for it. Because I know he would never mean it like that. I know that. And if I want him to open up to me, I have to be willing to hear whatever he has to say without making it about me. Stupid, petty jealousy isn't right, when he's suffering.
When he's the one who's lost someone so important.
"Who...?" I whisper.
"My... Amber." He shudders, and for... one of the first times I've ever seen, a tear falls from his face. He doesn't seem to notice it, lips twisted into a pained grimace. "My... my twin sister."
My breath leaves me in a sharp gasp. "You-! A twin...?"
He nods. "She was... strong. She was." His voice cracks. "She had a weak immune system, always getting sick every time she pushed herself at all, but that... stupid, stupid idiot always went all out. She just... she refused to let it stop her." His lips twist into an attempt at a smile. "She... refused to accept that we could be any different."
I reach up toward him once again, but hesitate. My hand hovers an inch from his cheek, afraid to touch him, afraid to hurt him. But then his head turns, and his face presses into my palm, his eyes closing. I turn my body and lean in, pressing my lips to his brow.
"We were both taken. Together, because..." He laughs softly. It's one of the most heartbreaking sounds I've ever heard. "We did everything together. Even that. We were... we made it through the first test. The first year. Then during the second." His voice lowers to a whisper. "And I met Ivan. He took me away, but... in the chaos, I lost her. I begged him to take me back, but he wouldn't risk it, so I... when I realized he wouldn't help, I went... on my own."
"On your own... to the processing camp?" I swallow, staring up at him in shock.
To willingly go back to that place... there wasn't a day before that failed escape attempt that I didn't wake up and fear the thought of going back there. And yet... he went back... on his own?
"Did...did you find her?"
He gives a slow nod. His entire body shakes. His voice is high, tight. I've never seen such raw grief, such vulnerability in him. He's always been... rage, anger, flippant jokes in the face of death. He's been awkward before, scared, but I...
I don't even recognize the man who's sitting next to me, looking at something I can't see.
"I found her. She... was standing in a line. They'd just taken her out of the..." He swallows. "Out of the camp. She was just standing. Waiting for something. So I ran to her and grabbed her hand. But she didn't..." He chokes on the words, his body trembling. "She didn't recognize me."
His hand clasps over his face. "I tried...! I tried! She was - my sister! My Amber! She- we were...! We were more than just two people, we were-" He chokes off his words for a moment, shoulders hunching, before he regains a modicum of control. "She just stared at me. She had this... burn. A brand. On her arm. And she was just... empty. Nothing I did would get through to her. Nothing made her remember me, or look at me or... or care." His voice breaks completely then. "I wanted to stay, I wanted to make her remember! I- I'd have... even if it...! But Peter found me. He hauled me away. She didn't fight. She didn't even look at me... and then she was gone. They sent her off this fucking planet and I couldn't do anything-!"
I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close. He buries his face in my neck, and...
I think it might be the first time he's ever allowed himself to properly cry.
I know... what he's describing. What he saw.
Maybe... maybe not exactly. But enough. Those empty eyes. That emotionless face that looked through me, not at me.
No. I don't know. I don't have any idea what I would do if it hadn't been Eric pointing a gun at me. If I'd been held back and forced to watch them walk away, instead.
I... I don't know how I could even survive that.
It's no wonder he hates them so much. How much he wants to hurt them.
He seems... so much younger in my arms. Those sobs wrenching from somewhere deep inside him, fingers clinging to me as if... as if I could... do anything for him. As if I could ever fix it, or help him, or heal him even a little.
Hot tears run down my cheeks as I hold him.
"I'm... I'm so sorry..." I whisper. I can barely even hear my own words.
I'm sorry. For what he suffered. For... not being able to do anything for him. For ever asking, for prying and poking at a wound I had no right to see. For not being able to promise him that we'll find his sister and fix it.
I can't. I can't even say it. Because it's not true.
"We'll kill them..." I whisper, finally. It's not really something I decide to say. It's just what finally escapes, "We'll kill... all of them." I choke on a sob. "We'll make them pay."
He doesn't respond.
And... I think... that's okay.