Page 33 of Rogue Starfighter

“That’s kinda sweet.”

“It was idiotic.”

“You still hear him say it.”

“Every time I launch.” Her amusement disappeared with my words.

I looked down at the warm mug she had placed in my hands. I had not tasted the tea. Didn't much care for it. And when speaking of my brother, I preferred something with a bit more bite. Something that could make me forget.

“We flew together for two years,” I continued. “He knew what I would do before I touched the controls. I knew when he was about to violate an order by the disarming charm he would put in his voice. He trusted instinct more than instruments. Command hated that until it saved a mission. Then they called him gifted.”

“Like you called me today.”

“Yes.”

Priya lowered her cup to her knee. “What happened?”

I had repeated the official report many times. Coordinates. Orders. Damage. Casualties. Facts were simple. Facts did not include Tavik's laughs, or the way he would steal food from my plate. Or watching him bleed to death because I we didn't have enough compression bandages to save him.

The official report did not include the fact that our parents were already gone. That I begged him not to leave me alone. “Command sent us through a transit corridor intelligence had classified as blind. No enemy presence. No active sensors. We had used it before. But they were waiting.”

"An ambush?"

“Yes.”

Her fingers tightened around her cup.

“Tavik sensed the trap before the Wraith registered the weapons lock. He rolled the ship and put his side of the cockpit between me and the first round.”

Priya went still. “He did it on purpose?”

“He saved the ship.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“It is the answer I have.”

“Vesh.”

I met her gaze. “Yes. He did it to save me.”

She closed her eyes for one breath.

“He lost consciousness, but the ship was operational. I destroyed the two interceptors and flew him home.” My voice sounded normal. I had spent six years learning how to talk about my brother without feeling anything. With her, it was far more difficult to keep the pain out of my tone than it should have been. “As soon as we were out of danger, I tried to save him. I used everything we had on the ship to stop the bleeding. But it wasn't enough. He bled to death in minutes. The medics said he probably was dead before we even cleared enemy space.”

“How long did it take you to get back to base?”

“Eleven hours.”

Her hands trembled. She set her cup on the table before she dropped it. "I'm so sorry."

“Afterward, I requested permanent solo assignment. The Wraith is, technically, my ship. I can be operated by one scout, and I made certain no commander had reason to refuse me.”

“You became too useful to argue with.”

“I became very good at working alone.”

“That’s not the same thing.”