They’re too arrogant for that, and a scuttled ship that we haven’t stolen is too unimportant.

C. 22 days, 34 hours since the assassination of rebel leadership

Uuchantuu clutched her knees to her chest as she sat in her bunk, chest tight, shoulders bowed under the mountain of her failure. After leaving the funeral early, she'd come here, needing to be alone. She left the light off, trying to empty her mind and lose herself in the darkness. It didn't work. Even when she squeezed her eyes shut, she saw it over and over again. Induu’s and Bavlos’s lifeless faces, the terrified faces of the townspeople, the destruction that followed in the wake of her failure. And all the while, the venom in Araana's voice ate at her thoughts.

The light flicked on, buzzing in her ears, turning the insides of her eyelids red.

Uuchantuu gasped, leaping to her feet to find Estingai ducking under the curtain that separated the small space from the main room.

Estingai didn't smile. She met Uuchantuu's gaze and Uuchantuu shivered at how close her friend—her sister—was to breaking.

Uuchantuu wet her lips, but couldn't find any words.

When Estingai sat down next to her, taking her hand, Uuchantuu cocked her head, but sat down and squeezed Estingai's hand.

As inviting as the silence was, Uuchantuu knew it would only make things worse.

"I'm still not used to that," she said. "People sneaking up on me. I'm always used to having Koruuksi or you know when someone is coming. Or something like that."

Estingai nodded, eyes downcast.

Uuchantuu bit her lip. "How was the funeral?"

Estingai shrugged. "The usual. Marjatla listed the names, everyone said something about those they'd lost. Kjatirna sang ‘Light of Darkside.’”

Uuchantuu nodded. "I heard that."

The echoes of Kjatirna’s unaccompanied voice filling the stone halls had sent shivers down her spine even as it tugged at her heart.

“The night sky is all we see

A world of frozen beauty

Myrskaan and the stars are all we have

In this world where light is not

Oh Light of Darkside, guide us through the night

Your glow gives us hope and brings us light

In the endless winter, your myriad colors

Dance and twist, give us light in the darkness

The snow and ice, they whisper low

Of those who've left, who've had to go

Past the veil, to the dark beyond

Our hearts are heavy, and burdened, weep

Oh Light of Darkside, guide us through the night

Your glow gives us hope and brings us light

In the endless winter, your myriad colors

Dance and twist, give us light in the darkness

We remember those who've passed on by

Their memories etched in our hearts, we cannot deny

Their voices, their touch seem like a dream

Dreams of light that keep us warm

Oh Light of Darkside, guide us through the night

Your glow gives us hope and brings us light

In the endless winter, your myriad colors

Dance and twist, give us light in the darkness.”

Uuchantuu was used to the Kysuuri version, but even translated, it was beautiful.

"A few of the pilots are flying the bodies out to sea," Estingai said. "Luuhuuta and Edendo are with them." She sighed. "At least we had bodies this time."

Estingai's voice broke. and Uuchantuu squeezed her hand.

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Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Estingai's jaw tighten. The older woman took a deep breath, then looked to her.

"Why did you leave?"

Uuchantuu's throat grew tight, quivering when she opened her mouth. "I couldn't bear it. I felt like everyone was blaming me."

Estingai's fingers tightened around hers to the point of pain. Her voice was quiet, but firm. "You did nothing wrong."

"The way I hear it,” Estingai said, taking a deep breath, “everyone is blaming me. It's a power play for me to scare Ironpeak over to my side."

Uuchantuu shook her head. "It's not your fault, but it is mine. I didn't do enough to prep my team and make them trust each other." She frowned, turning her gaze to the floor. "I don't think I trusted them enough, either."

"And I should have given you more prep time," Estingai said. "Darkness, I should have gone with you."

Uuchantuu shook her head, looking to Estingai. "Your leg—"

She cut off as Estingai threw her a flat look.

"That's what I said to Marjatla. She didn't let me get away with it, and she's right. I've never let something like that stop me before. Aite didn't let losing an arm stop him."

Uuchantuu nodded, then studied Estingai. She wet her lips, hesitant.

"Why not, then? Why didn't you go?"

Estingai's jaw twitched, and she looked away. She tugged a bit at her hand but Uuchantuu didn't let it go.

That made Estingai squeeze it harder.

"I was afraid," she said, voice raw, tight. "The last two times I went out, I was the only one that came back alive. I couldn't let that happen with anyone else." Estingai looked to Uuchantuu. "Especially you."

Uuchantuu nodded. "I know what that feels like, too. So does Koruuksi." She swallowed. "You haven't heard anything from him, have you?"

Estingai shook her head. "It would get picked up by our monitors. I'm sure he'll be okay, though. I'm not worried about his physical safety."

Uuchantuu nodded even as her stomach twisted at what Koruuksi might be going through, and quiet stretched between them. The low hum of the lights was the only sound beside the punctuation of their breathing and the vents switching on and off. They still held each other's hands.

"When Alasia and the rest of your family…" Uuchantuu looked up as Estingai's voice broke. "When they—" Estingai began again, then shook her head. She took a deep breath, then looked to Uuchantuu. "How did you get past it?"

Uuchantuu frowned. "I don't think I ever really did."

"But how did you stop hurting so much every day?" Estingai asked. "Thinking about them even when you're not thinking about them."

Uuchantuu thought for a while, then shrugged. "I think I just finally accepted that nothing would make it better."

Estingai blinked, and Uuchantuu could see the tears behind her eyes, barely held at bay.

"I just—" she continued. "I just told myself that it was going to be terrible for a while before it could get better."

Estingai held her gaze. "Did it?"

Uuchantuu smiled. "When you took me in after the attack—you, and Koruuksi and all the others—you never tried to replace my family. You were just there for me. Losing everyone and leaving my home for this big, unknown world was terrifying, nearly unbearable, but…" She shrugged. "You gave me a family again."

Estingai nodded, then sat in silence for a while before speaking again.

"That sounds a lot better than how I got over my family. I tried hating them first, then pitying them. My birth parents, the cult—I know it sounds terrible, but they weren't that hard to get over. Kojatere, though… her and Aite and Suule and Svemakuu—I was a messed up little girl living on the streets who stole from them, and they chose me." The raw emotion in Estingai's voice squeezed Uuchantuu's heart. "How do you get over that?" Estingai's voice broke again. "How do you—?"

She cut off, mouth working, but no words came out.

Uuchantuu found her eyes hot, throat tight.

How do you get over that? Can you?

Estingai squeezed Uuchantuu's hand, sniffing to hold back tears. The next moment, she crumbled into Uuchantuu's arms.

That frightened Uuchantuu more than anything she could remember. Estingai was like Kojatere. She didn't break. To see her like this…

"I hate that he's gone," Estingai rasped, almost a sob, but not quite. "That they're all gone. I miss them so much."

Uuchantuu found herself clinging to Estingai. She missed them, too. Starless nights, she missed them. Aite with his formal, but sardonic manner. So wise and steady one moment, then joking the next while teaching her how to do things with hardlight that most thought impossible. Suule, always tinkering with georaurals, showing her his next project or sharing the latest research with her, always with a smile. Kojatere, a beautiful, impossibly confident woman that had made Uuchantuu feel like she could do anything just by being around her. And Svemakuu, with his comforting words in the quiet moments. His wonderful cooking, and the way you could tell he loved Estingai with all of his being just from the way he smiled at her.

Uuchantuu drew in a deep, ragged breath, trying with everything she had to hold back a torrent of hot, salty tears even as she wanted to just break and let it all out. But she couldn’t. She needed to be strong for the strongest woman she'd ever known.

"What—" Uuchantuu's voice was too thick to get the words out. She cleared her throat. "What would Svemakuu have told you?" she asked. "If he were here right now?"

Estingai snorted. "Things never would have gotten this bad if he were still here."

"But what if?"

Estingai was silent for a moment, then shook her head.

"He would have been infuriatingly persistent in trying to make me see the bright side. And he would have done it. He would have told me we've made progress despite the failures. We know there is a spy now, and we've brought Stormswind and Icevein firmly to our side, even if they aren't happy about it at the moment, and Marjatla's finally stepped up. He…" She sighed, meeting Uuchantuu's gaze. "He would have given me hope." A faint smile touched her lips. "You're good at that, too. I'm glad at least that part of him lives on."

Uuchantuu frowned. "Me? I—"

"Svemakuu was good at inspiring people. He could take the spotlight or talk his way into a group of people and give the rousing speeches that would inspire them to do better, or get a group of friends to laugh again, or people fighting to see common ground. You…" She squeezed Uuchantuu's hand. "You're the one that comes in the quiet moments when people need it most. When you know a smile can't fix things, but people just need… something." Estingai turned her gaze to the floor again. "Everyone always thinks Koruuksi is the one for that because he and Svemakuu were so alike. He is, but I know the pressure gets to him more than it ever did with Svemakuu. You adopted that from Svemakuu even more than he did."

Uuchantuu's throat was still tight, but she found a smile straining her lips as Estingai met her gaze again. Uuchantuu hesitated, then pulled her sister into a hug.

Estingai tensed, and for a moment, Uuchantuu worried she'd made a mistake. Then Estingai wrapped her arms around her and held her tight.

"Thank you," Uuchantuu breathed, eyes squeezed shut.

Estingai said nothing, just squeezing her tighter.

As they held each other, Uuchantuu realized something, and she loosened her grip.

Estingai did the same after a moment, and pulled back to look at Uuchantuu with curious golden-brown eyes.

Uuchantuu swallowed the lump in her throat. "You're strong, too, Estingai. You're the one that doesn't give up, even when things look hopeless and everything has been taken from you. If you did, you wouldn't be here now. You wouldn't have been there for me when I needed you."

Estingai blinked, eyes shimmering.

Uuchantuu squeezed her hand again, then rose. "I need to go to my team. Will you be okay alone for a while?"

Estingai sniffed, giving her a tight smile. "Go, be a leader."

The waver in her voice made Uuchantuu hesitate, but she turned and pushed through the curtain, then started out of their room and down the hall at a jog.

I have to do this. Estingai will be okay.

She has to be.