As the ceremony ended, and the audience began departing, Yen pushed his way through the crowd, eager to catch up to Keryn. Moving past the thickest part of the crowd, he saw her walking toward a rear path that led along the top of the Shrine’s tall cliff face. He hurried to follow her into the darkness beyond the amphitheater, where brilliant sunlight faded to a colorful silver on the distant horizon.
“Ms. Riddell?”
Keryn turned, her silver hair flashing in the faint, flickering candlelight. “Yes?” She arched an eyebrow.
Yen felt foolish, realizing she probably went that way to be alone. In his eagerness to meet her, he blundered into her private mourning. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you want to be alone right now.” He turned back toward the Shrine. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“You’re Yen Xiao, aren’t you?”
Surprised, he stopped and turned.
“I thought it was you, Mr. Xiao.”
Yen walked over and shook her extended hand firmly, surprised by the strength of her grip and the calluses on her palm. “Please, call me Yen.”
“Yen. My brother spoke about you quite a bit in his letters. He described you almost perfectly. You can walk with me, if you’d like. I think I’d prefer to have someone with me than walk alone, anyway.”
Yen joined her, as she walked along the sandy path. For a long while, they were silent, each remembering Eza in his own way, as they admired the dying sunlight reflecting off the coral.
“You were with him when he died?” she asked, breaking the solemn mood.
Yen nodded, unsure how to respond. “Eza was a great friend of mine, probably the best I ever had. He loved you very much and talked about you all the time. He would’ve been proud of what you said during the ceremony. You really captured all that was Eza.”
Her eyes sparkled with moisture even in the darkness. She managed a soft, “Thank you,” in reply but couldn't bring herself to make eye contact.
Yen reached out a hesitant hand and placed it on her arm, stopping her. Slipping his hand under the stiff collar of his uniform jacket, he pulled free the ID tags over his head and let them dangle on their chain.
“These were his tags,” Yen explained. “Every time before we went on a mission, we traded tags. I wore his, and he wore mine. Both of us thought of it as a stupid superstition, but he started it soon after I joined the team, and we became friends.
“He told me we traded tags to ensure we always remembered our promise to look out for each other. I felt like a thief, carrying his tags around. All I ever wanted was to finish our mission and give back the tags. It seemed crazy, since neither of us openly admitted to being superstitious, but I always felt an incredible sense of relief when I came back and could return his tags. It’s almost like he knew that I wanted to bring them home safe each time, just like he did for me.”
Unable to make eye contact with Keryn, he stared out over the ocean. “I think, deep down, Eza also knew that if something happened to either of us, we’d always have the tags as a remembrance of our friendship.”
Taking Keryn’s hand, he placed the tags in her open palm and gently closed her fingers over them. “I don’t know if he meant me to always carry those tags as a reminder of our friendship, but I think he would’ve been OK with my giving them to you.”
Keryn squeezed her hand over the tags until her knuckles turned white. Though her jaw was firmly set, and her eyes glistened with moisture, no tears fell. “Thank you, Yen,” she whispered.
Turning, they walked up the path, moving farther from the Shrine. Yen stole glances at the shorter woman, as they walked, amazed at her strength. During the month-long journey back from Proteus II, he went to the cockpit many times to shed tears not just for Eza but for the rest of the team. He even saw stoic Adam cry for his lost teammates. On the day of her brother’s memorial service, Keryn remained strong in the face of overwhelming emotion.
Unable to stop himself, he commented, “You really are taking this well.”
Keryn continued walking, but her expression became indignant. “Are you referring to the fact that I’m not an emotional wreck?” She shook her head. “Believe me, I shed my share of tears. For weeks after I got the news, I cried almost every night. After a while, the sorrow subsided, buried deep inside, replaced by another emotion-revenge. They won’t tell me how he died, but I know he died fighting the Terrans. I’m going to make sure the Empire suffers for taking away my brother.”
“You may yet have your chance. You know the High Council is debating whether to declare war on the Empire? They’re sending a battle group to investigate whether the Empire has illegally crossed the Demilitarized Zone. If they find out that the Terrans have violated the Taisa Accord, we could be at war much sooner than anticipated.”
“I know. It’s all anyone could talk about during the past school year. As a pilot in training, knowing we might be going to war, it made most other conversations insignificant. Many cadets dropped out before the end of the year because of that. They hadn’t signed up for service during a war and never expected to fight. It wasn’t in their blood, I guess.”
“But it’s in yours,” he said matter-of-factly. “Finish your last year, graduate, and you could be in a squadron by the time any real action kicks off.”
She stopped walking and turned toward him.
“What?” Yen asked.
“You haven’t heard, have you? The High Council received reports that a small Terran Fleet was spotted in Alliance space. They graduated my class early to fill gaps in the Fleet’s squadrons.”
“You’re already commissioned?”
Keryn laughed softly. The sound was musical and intoxicating. “I was top of my class when I graduated. It’s Magistrate Riddell now.”
“I’m impressed-not surprised, since you’re Eza’s sister, but impressed. Have they assigned you to a ship yet?”
Keryn shook her head. “Not yet. We’ll find out next month.”
“If you’re looking for a good ship to serve on, let me know. A few of us just got reassigned to the Revolution. I’m sure I could put in a good word, since I’m one of the few people onboard with real combat experience.”
“I’ll remember that.” She smiled. “In the meantime, can I ask a favor?”
“Anything.”
Her expression turned serious. “While we walk back to the Shrine, tell me how my brother died.”
Somehow, the walk took nearly half an hour. Yen told every story he could think of about Eza. Many made Keryn laugh, something Yen wanted to hear as often as possible. They linked arms as they walked, until they were just outside the Warrior’s Circle. Leaning forward, she kissed his cheek.
“Thank you, Yen.” She walked toward the Shrine’s exit. “Thank you for everything.”
As she disappeared from view, Yen walked to where Adam lounged lazily in his seat. Though he was seemingly relaxed, his eyes followed Keryn’s lithe form, as she went down the passage leading to the stairs.
Swinging his legs over the side of the chairs, Adam climbed to his feet and joined his teammate. “So,” he began, glancing at Keryn’s retreating form, “what do you think?”
Yen looked longingly after her, her gentle touch lingering on his arm and her kiss on his cheek. Remembering the burning focus in her eyes when she spoke of revenge against the Terran Empire, he smiled at his Pilgrim friend.
“I don’t think we’ve seen the last of her.”
EPILOGUE
“Captain on the deck!” the navigator called, as the small crew on the bridge of the Liberator leaped to their feet.