The distorted space of the wormhole filled the screen as the autopilot brought us closer and closer. The engines ramped up and then we pierced the anchor’s plane. The ship picked up a steady vibration. I dropped my gaze to my terminal, but out of my peripheral vision, I could see the starlight dancing on the main display.
Time stretched thin, then the wormhole spat us out the other side.
More than one sigh of relief filled the air as I scanned Starlight’s sensor data. Lotkez was just ahead of us, outside the danger zone, and there were a handful of ships within sensor range, but only one registered as military.
Of course, it was a huge, heavily armed battleship, so one was plenty.
No one hailed us as we moved out of the danger zone. The battleship didn’t target us, or even subject us to a sensor sweep. We headed deeper into Valovian space unchallenged.
The knot in my stomach unclenched.
We weren’t in the clear, exactly, because there could still be a trap waiting for us on Valovia, but we’d overcome the first challenge. At least tomorrow’s final traversal was at a more reasonable midmorning hour. Maybe I could get enough sleep for once.
The bridge began to empty now that the wormhole was behind us. The Valoffs appeared more relaxed. Being back in friendly territory was probably a relief for them, but I wouldn’t completely relax until we’d safely returned to FHP-controlled space. I might not love the Feds—huge, huge understatement—but I’d still take human space over Valovian.
“You want me to stay?” Eli asked over the comm.
I’d been so lost in thought that I hadn’t realized everyone except Eli and Torran had left the bridge. Even Luna had wandered off, likely in search of a sucker she could con into feeding her a second breakfast.
“No, go on. I will be okay. I’m planning to monitor for a bit, just to ensure we’re in the clear, then I’m going to help Anja with maintenance.”
“Shout if you need anything,” he said as he stood. Then he left the bridge, leaving me alone with Torran.
I’d known that avoiding Torran on a ship of Starlight’s size would be impossible, but I’d hoped to be a little more successful than this. I could order him to leave, but that would reveal far more than ignoring him.
If only he weren’t so difficult to ignore.
My eyes kept sliding his way, so it was only a matter of time before he caught me looking. He held my stare for a moment before rising and approaching. He placed a small, rectangular black box on the corner of my terminal, then stepped back.
“I am sorry about yesterday,” he said quietly. “You asked for my help, and I failed.” His mouth flattened. “Then I let emotion override courtesy and caused you greater pain. Please forgive me.”
Of all the things I’d expected, an apology wasn’t even on the list. I blinked at him for a second before glancing at the box. “What is this?”
“It is vosdodite, an apology gift.”
“You don’t need to do that,” I said, gently pushing the box back toward him. “I accept your apology.”
Torran stiffened and his expression shuttered.
“Let me guess,” I said drily, “if I don’t accept the gift, it’s some sort of grave Valovian insult?”
Torran unbent enough for one corner of his mouth to tip up. “Essentially, yes. A rejected gift can mean many things. The most common is a rejection of the apology. Or it could mean that you feel insulted by the quality of the gift in relation to the offense, and that I should try again with something more dear.”
“What if it just means that I accept your apology, and you really don’t have to get me anything because I’m human, and we don’t expect apology gifts?”
“You can accept my apology by accepting the gift.”
I pressed my lips together. I was potentially about to make another mistake, but I’d thought about this last night after my talk with Eli. I hadn’t really said enough to get us in trouble with the Feds, but they could make our lives miserable without technically violating our contract.
I met Torran’s eyes. “If you want to give me an apology gift, then I will accept your promise that you will forget everything I told you last night, and that you won’t repeat it. If you do, or if you try to use it against me and mine, I will vigorously deny it.”
Torran frowned, a question in his eyes. Understanding dawned, and his eyes narrowed. “The FHP is hid—”
“General Fletcher, your promise, please,” I said, interrupting him before he could complete the thought.
I could see the struggle in his face. The muscle along his jaw flexed as he tried to find a way around it.
I prodded at his honor. “Unless, of course, you are not truly sorry,” I said with a carefully careless shrug.
“One question first,” he demanded. When I warily nodded, he asked, “Did you really call off the attack once you knew there were civilians inside?”
Now it was my turn to struggle. That question would lead to a dozen more, each of them digging deeper into an event that needed to remain buried. My squad’s freedom rested on my ability to sell the lie that was the Fed’s account of the battle on Rodeni. If there was even a hint that I planned to reveal the truth, they would lock us up and lose the key.
Already, my silence had betrayed me. I had to do damage control.
I dropped my eyes to my terminal so I wouldn’t have to see Torran’s face when I lied to him. “I must’ve misspoken,” I said. The words tasted of bitterness and frustration, but I forced them out. “I was overwrought and not speaking clearly. Of course the FHP had no knowledge of civilian inhabitants before the attack. It was an unfortunate tragedy.” That last part, at least, was true.
I could feel his gaze boring into me, but Torran didn’t say anything for an endless moment. When I risked a peek at him, he frowned at me. “I don’t think you misspoke at all.”
I met his eyes and lied to his face. “I absolutely did. If you are finished with your apology, then I need to get back to work.” I pushed the box to the edge of the terminal. “Take that with you.”
“I will not use what you told me against you,” Torran promised quietly. “And I will forget the conversation. But if you ever want to talk, I will listen. If you and your crew want to work on your mental shields, my people and I will help. I apologize again for the harm I caused. Please keep the gift.” He bowed his head, then left before I could protest.
The bridge door hissed closed behind him.
I stared at the box he’d left behind. It was wrapped in matte black paper embossed with a subtle, swirling design. Curiosity tempted me to open it, even though I should return it to him unopened, insult or no. I was human. I didn’t have to conform to Valovian standards.
But part of me was dying to see what was inside, to see what Torran thought was an appropriate gift.
I picked it up. The box was heavy for its size and it didn’t rattle when I gently shook it. The wrapping paper was folded into straight, precise lines, and I wondered if he’d wrapped it himself. Surely not. Right?
I ran my fingers over the swirling pattern, fighting the desire to open it.
After a few seconds, curiosity won.