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    Indus reported, mental voice flavored with coffee-colored concern, and bright golden flakes of hope. (Is it-)


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    Cygnus told him, and hurtled into the landing bay where soldiers converged on the fighter. It was in sorry shape, beaten and blasted, but whole. He saw a few of the soldiers raise guns, and crushed the muzzles shut with barely a thought even as steam erupted outward, and the tiny pilot’s hatch scraped open.


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    he told her, and pressed his face into her dirty hair as she clung to him. His eyes burned with tears, and he let them fall, relieved beyond measure that she was alive, and every inch the miracle he never dared to pray for.