Yet Cavalon had to smile at the mental image—a doe-eyed young Rake with grease-smeared cheeks, batting her eyelashes at some gruff, no-nonsense Legion recruiter.
“But she had to,” Rake continued. “It’d been too hard for too long. Enough was enough.”
Cavalon’s amusement faded and he swallowed, not entirely sure what to say. Part of him wanted to know every grimy detail. But he also really, really didn’t. The thought of Rake subdued to the point where the best option had been to join the Legion at a time when they were on the cusp of all-out war … He couldn’t begin to imagine it, and he didn’t want to.
He cleared his throat. “So, even after they got you—her … off-world, she stuck with it? All those years?”
“At first, it was a means to an end.” She gave a small shrug. “But she stayed because it was structured and safe and … really, the only thing that ever made sense.”
Cavalon’s amped-up zest dwindled along with a realization. This blind faith of hers wasn’t at all what he’d assumed. It didn’t come from some regimented upbringing where everything began and ended with the Legion. She wasn’t a mindless soldier-drone born and bred to serve. The Legion had taken her in and raised her. Rescued her. Maybe even saved her life. It was far worse than he’d thought.
He had to wonder if she’d ever be able to accept what had already become painfully clear to everyone but her—the Legion was wholly unconcerned with the likes of the Sentinels.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, eventually crossing into a familiar area—the corridor that ran along the outside of the starboard air locks. Cavalon barely recognized it under the wash of white overheads instead of the grim, red emergency lighting of his last visit.
He paused outside the sealed-off secondary air lock to S6 and peeked through the small observation window. Inside, a handful of Drudger corpses floated aimlessly, their ashen skin now an icy blue-gray.
Rake retreated a few steps and peered in as well. “Guess it got the air lock sealed in time. We could have docked this side after all.”
Cavalon nodded as he watched the bodies float—five of which had been killed in the fight, and at least another three or four that’d been sucked out before the gate’s emergency systems kicked in and sealed the air lock off.
“It’s still a ways farther,” Rake said, continuing down the corridor. “Better keep at it.”
Cavalon followed her into a maze of shorter, dimly lit hallways. At least ten minutes passed as they walked, and Cavalon wished he had one of those Legion-issue nexus bands just so he’d have a vague notion of the relative time of day. Yet another aspect of life in space he’d have to get used to. If they survived long enough for it to matter.
Finally, they turned into a dead-end hallway with a closed door on either side. Rake swept her hand across one of the keypads, but it flashed red and gave a negative beep.
She opened the comms interface on her nexus. “Jackin, it’s Rake.”
“Go for Jack.”
“It’s locked. Can you let us in?”
He responded after a brief pause. “Puck’s on it. Remember, boss, comms will be off-line during the reboot, and mainframe systems will be down temporarily as well. They’ll spool back up on their own one at a time, but we’ll be dark for a little while.”
“Understood.” Rake shouldered her rifle. Cavalon fumbled with his strap, then did the same. Without even sparing him a glance, Rake added evenly, “Finger off the trigger, please.”
He frowned, then carefully laid his finger on the side of the trigger guard. “Sorry, sir.” It’d be just perfect if he stumbled and shot the EX in the back. That’d get him spaced for sure.
Moments later, the screen flashed green and the door slid open. Rake stepped inside, swinging her aim to clear the corners of the hot, cramped server room.