“Her Imperial Highness blames herself,” Nayeon said. They were in the sick bay. Tzuyu was tending to both of them. 

Dahyun nodded. Her back and neck ached. So did her face and neck. She couldn’t get the look on Sana’s face out of her head. Tears had covered her face and she’d seen everything: terror, guilt, and pain. She knew that look. 

“My guess is it’s either survivor’s guilt or she made the wrong call.” 

“You’re not asking her, are you?” Dahyun could understand if Nayeon wanted to know. She also wanted to know about Sana’s capture. Yet she also knew that they’d have to wait for that. Or maybe they’d never know. 

She understood Nayeon’s blow up from yesterday. She’d been on the verge of a breaking point. Mina hadn’t helped. 

Dahyun still didn’t know what exactly was going through Nayeon’s mind now, only that little of it was good. 

Nayeon scoffed. “Nah. And I’m pretty sure Momo’d probably punch me in the face if I even tried.”

“I’m not gonna ask,” Dahyun said. She couldn’t. Sana would have to tell her. 

“Wasn’t gonna ask you to.”

“When do you think we’ll get there?” Tzuyu asked. She dabbed at the gash on Nayeon’s face. The doctor was pretty sure they had the stuff to avoid scars forming on either Dahyun or her. Apparently, Nayeon had been dubbed Scarface on Aphrodite after the day she’d gotten them. They’d been a considerate bunch. 

“I give it a week,” Dahyun shrugged, “maybe a little more if we have to take a detour.” They’d checked the ship for trackers. Chaeyoung had even gone outside to make sure there was nothing on them. 

They’d found one hunk of scrap that hid a device. Chaeng had made sure it was attached to a piece of fast flowing space debris from the bathrooms. With any luck, according to her, the rest would end up chasing . 

“They bought that we didn’t have her,” Nayeon said, her eyes distant. “It wasn’t like Cube.”

It hadn’t been a tip. 

“A hunch,” Dahyun replied. “But I bet they’ll have people waiting all over the system:” And their faces were definitely stored on some hard drive now. The thought made her stomach twist. You could change your face. They said it was painful even after the surgery. And she wasn’t too big a fan of doing that kind of thing in her twenties. 

“Oh yeah,” Nayeon straightened, “I gotta bone to pick with you idiots. How the hell did you think coming to the rescue was gonna help anything?” 

“They were relying on threats,” Tzuyu said. “And us coming surprised them. They didn’t think there’d be so many of us. Not really.” 

“Even if you caught them off guard,” Dahyun started, “we were outgunned. And I bet those suits were bulletproof.”

The doctor shrugged. “I knew we weren’t going to be able to do much. There were a lot on that ship. This was just a good intimidation factor.” A small smile. “And I knew they weren’t gonna take Chaeng too seriously.” 

Dahyun sometimes forgot that Tzuyu had her own experiences with risky space travel. Granted, she’d been on the more legitimate side, but she still knew how to handle herself in these situations. Sometimes better than Dahyun could. 

Chaeyoung stood then, pouting. “You kidding me?”

“Exhibit A.” Tzuyu chuckled, wandering over to kiss the top of her head. Then she pulled a face. “You should shower.” 

Dahyun and Nayeon laughed. The sudden levity reminded Dahyun that they were still in space. They still had time until they had to deal with the fallout. 

“Anyway,” Chaeyoung’s scowl faded, “we really gonna need a new ship?” She looked to Nayeon. 

“We’re destroying this one on the edge of the system. Or somewhere like Neptune,” Nayeon replied. “We use the gun we got and leave it there. Somewhere it’ll be found.” 

“What about bodies?” The Aphroditan ship came to mind. Dahyun shuddered thinking about the corpses. Were they still there or had they been sent home? Or had they been completely erased? To avoid anyone catching on to what had happened?

“Ask for bodies from the Earther morgue,” Tzuyu suggested. 

“Why Master Yoda, a little morbid that is,” Nayeon said, a crooked smile appearing. “Who knew you had it in you?”

The doctor continued. “We put them in the cockpit and kitchen, aim for those areas, and hopefully make them unrecognisable.” A small frown. “Not sure what happens from there. We leave evidence that it was Aphrodite, or let them get desperate enough to get rid of it themselves?"
“Or track down those other bastards and frame ‘em,” Chaeyoung added. “They think their asses are in danger and they’ll cover it up.” Then she cringed. “But do really have to use bodies? I don’t think anyone’ll care who’s there.”

It was exactly the right way to cover it up. Dahyun knew that, but she still felt wrong about it. 

“We give it a shot,” Nayeon said, her jaw clenched. “Best case: it’ll tie up the loose ends.”

“Okay,” Chaeyoung said, running a hand through her hair. “But I’m in charge of the outside.” She aimed a pointed look at Dahyun then. “We are not flying in another lump of junk.” 

Dahyun sighed. “Every single person’s underestimate us. That helps.”

“Every single person says it’s a piece of ,” Nayeon corrected. “Maybe it helps, but it’s embarrassing.”

She felt more than a little attacked. “Alright, make it a little better looking.” She got to her feet. “Dinner in an hour? I’m thinking a big pasta.” 

“Seconded.”

She was at the door when she remembered. “How’re things with the spy now?” 

Nayeon raised an eyebrow. “Not a peep outta her.” 

“Or from you,” Tzuyu said. 

She scowled. “She was the one ready to blow our faces off.”

“I know,” Dahyun leaned against the wall, “but she’s not the type to avoid dinner just because you two’er having a feud.”

“A feud?” Nayeon’s scowl deepened. “You’re really turning into quasi-royalty.”

“Still true.” It ranged from minor disagreements about a topic discussed at dinner to decisions Nayeon took. The silent anger between the both of them was worse than one of them laying into the other. “Maybe you just have to let her do the talking?” She was starting to sound like some couple’s counsellor. 

While it wouldn’t be terrible if something happened there, she also couldn’t help but think about it another way. Mina was someone to be on good terms with. At least for the time they were here. She had a deeper knowledge of what was happening in this system. If Nayeon and her developed deep personal grudges, they’d have to go on the words of other people. It wasn’t that Dahyun trusted Mina, far from it, but she’d trust her more than other Earthers. That counted for something at least. 

Nayeon rolled her eyes. “She’ll start interrogating me,” she said. “But I won’t call her a to her face if she comes.” Her brow rose. “Happy?”

Dahyun grinned. “Kind of.” 

She left the room and headed down the ladder. Her thoughts filled with what would happen after this journey. She’d meant it before. She wasn’t as big a name as Nayeon, but there was a price on her head. Not enough to be considered a loose end, but it didn’t take much to get on Aphrodite’s hit list. She was definitely still on one. Now she’d be moving up. If her face was actually recognised. Definitely. 

Dahyun went to the kitchen first, filling a plate with a few snacks, then making two cups of coffee. One with a little bit of milk, the other with a lot of milk and sugar. 

She made for the workshop next, tapping the door a few times her foot. They still had to reset it from voice recognition. 

The door opened to reveal Sana. The troubled look in her eyes had been smothered by a brittle smile. The sight pained Dahyun. The deaths of Sana’s crew haunted her more than she let on. 

“Hey,” Dahyun said. “Up for a break?”

“Hi,” she said quietly. “I think I’ll be done tonight.” She nodded her head to her workbench. 

Dahyun smiled, not commenting on how swollen Sana’S eyes were. She went over to a separate bench, put down the tray and turned back to Sana. 

She was all but hunched over her workbench. 

The prototype the princess was working on was a pretty heavy-duty pistol. It was sleek, but chunky. Definitely a lot less brittle now. 

“Come on,” Dahyun murmured, putting her hands on the princess’ arms. “We have coffee and cookies.”

Sana stood and walked to the bench with her. She was only looking at Dahyun’s face, at her forehead. That was where one of the hits had got her. 

“You’re not the one who hit me,” Dahyun said. She grabbed the coffee with a bit of milk and put it in Sana’s hands. “And at this point, we’re making a whole lot of decisions on our end too.” It made a lot of what had happened their fault too. 

“But I,” she trailed off, “the one thing you wanted me to do.” She closed her eyes. “They know your face. All of you.”

“More decisions we made,” Dahyun replied. “One of us needed to show ourselves. I was the best option. The others just joined.”

The words didn’t land right. She tried again. 

“We know what we got ourselves into, Sana. Some of it’s only become obvious in the last week, but we know a couple of the risks that we’re taking. It’s our choice if we take ‘em or not. None of that’s your responsibility.”

Sana shook her head. “You’re missing the part where I got captured, where I chose not to hijack a ship, and came up to you.”

“You,” Dahyun drew out the word, “were gonna steal a ship?”

“Mina would do the finding and such, Momo would make sure we weren’t blocked, and I’d ready the ship for liftoff.” 

“You be pilot too?” She knew Sana had the training for this, but that she’d have been ready for that kind of a getaway? Dahyun was more than a little impressed. 

Sana nodded. “Not like Jihyo, but I’m not terrible.”

“But,” Dahyun held the plate of cookies in front of her until the princess took one, “then you wouldn’t be on one of the best designed ships in the galaxy, been on a free-for-all shopping spree for booze and food, and been on your way to making some best-seller, top-of-the-line weapons.” Even though she wanted to, she avoided saying anything remotely romantic. Sana wasn’t in a condition where those words were in any way appropriate and they weren’t exactly in a situation where it was warranted. 

That had kept her from sleeping easy a few times. How she was supposed to act around her? Everything had seemed easier when they were still in Kepler. It had seemed easier when there hadn’t been Earther news in the commons area. There Sana’s face dominated the news, as there were potential sightings and search crews sent out to find her. All of it reminded her just how important Sana was.

Maybe Dahyun had made it worse by looking, but it’d been something she’d needed to see. Sana was the literal heir to the empire that was the Earth system. Outside of Earth, Dahyun had been able to forget that, but now she saw the evidence just about everywhere. From how Sana spoke to the way she discussed things. 

And then there was Dahyun who was, for all intents and purposes, a bit of a criminal.

Sana hummed, not looking totally convinced. Still, she looked a bit better. “I,” she started. Then she bit her lip. “There were eleven people on that ship when they docked it,” she said. 

Dahyun didn’t have to ask which ship. She just nodded. Nine people had been killed. 

“They didn’t use the device to drag a ship, but they hacked us, taking over the controls.” She closed her eyes. “We were powerless. Momo was trying to get us all to the escape pod, but they’d disabled that too. Then they got in and—”The words stopped. 

Dahyun didn’t tell her to stop. If Sana wanted to, she would. Instead, she took Sana’s hand. If she’d learned anything, it was that the princess was grounded by physical contact. 

“There were attendants who’d come with me, others from the branches, and then guards and crew. Few who I’d known well, but now I’ll never forget their faces.” She opened glassy eyes. 

That was my fault. 

Sana didn’t have to say those words aloud. 

“But the people responsible are gonna rise up on the wanted lists,” Dahyun said. “There’s proof that Aphrodite’s behind it, or at least breaking some law, even the ones in Kepler,” she squeezed her hand, “Jeong has some of the records from Luna 4 and we recorded the search. I checked. Nothing was corrupted, not even after the search.”

That meant that the group either hadn’t been able to reach those save files, or they hadn’t cared. Or they’d seen them, which would have been a bad sign. It would mean they had nothing on these people. Jeongyeon was still scanning for viruses on their software. Nothing. At least not yet. 

“There’ll probably be some kind of justice, which might not be what the family wants, but it isn’t nothing. Which counts for something.” 

Sana was searching her eyes. She had a piercing gaze. Dahyun wondered what she’d look like when she was fully in leadership mode. She had no doubt that Sana was fair, but she probably wasn’t a pushover. That would be vital if she ever wanted a hope of dealing with Kepler and Coruscant. 

“And I bet you have plans for other things?” Dahyun asked. 

Sana gave her a weak nod. “When I get back, I’ll contact their families and try to make things easier, either through compensation or another mean.” She took a small, shaky breath. “But it won’t be enough.” 

“It never is,” she replied. She wanted to give her comforting words, but the things she thought of were empty. And if someone had told her those words at the time, her response would have been her fist. “But that feeling doesn’t go away. You just have to live with it.”

There was an unspoken understanding in the princess’ eyes. It wasn’t as if Dahyun had hidden it intentionally, but Sana was catching on now. And the princess had shared a piece of her regret. Dahyun would do the same. 

“The seventh room wasn’t a guest room,” she said. “I told you I met Nayeon after things went bad. At that time, things were going bad for her. It was all still happening on Artemis. I knew my way around.” She sighed. “It’s not gonna make sense now, but unless Nayeon’s ready, I can’t tell you why she was there.”

To her credit, Sana nodded. “It’s okay."

“We met the third while getting ready to run. Nayeon knew how we were going to get through it. At this point, me and the other one, Aisling, got tied up with something. I wasn’t paying up to the right people, and tax evasion on Aisling’s part.” She had to chuckle. “A real mess, but we got out of it. Nayeon managed to fake her death, leaving enough hints for her family to know she wasn’t actually dead.” She looked at their hands. “Long story short, we got a crew together. Big happy family and all that.” How was she going to explain the rest? She’d made some peace with it, but the memories still hurt. 

Sana squeezed her hand now. The warmth in her eyes was back, but with it was sadness. There was still that understanding. 

“We took a lot of jobs getting started,” Dahyun explained. “At that time, a good two thirds of them got ugly. We were desperate then, so we just focused on getting the money.” And how many times had they gotten screwed over because of it? She remembered nursing wounds, comforting the rest, getting comforted by the rest, and latching on to the small moments spent in space. Those times had always been getting back from a mission. “And that kind of thing, plus being so close to a big break, it makes you sloppy.”

She summarised the scene playing out in her head. They’d been there to deliver a crate of bio-foods and drugs. Someone had leaked the location. It had been an ambush on the drop point, one they should’ve seen coming. One crew had rigged a couple traps, which Dahyun had set off, Nayeon beside her. Another crew had camped out on higher ground. They’d almost gotten Chaeyoung, while Aisling had been been hit. Tzuyu hadn’t even gotten the chance to try and save her. 

“We didn’t care about the ones with the traps. We didn’t lose the goods either,” Dahyun sighed. “So there wasn’t another hit on us there. I managed to get the news to her family, plus her stuff.” Another drawn-out process full of back ends that she wouldn’t get into now. “Plus we told them we’d deal with it.” She paused. Sana didn’t say anything. “We did.”

And she’d hated it. The first thing they’d done was find the snitch. They’d killed her. Right afterward they’d done it, they’d almost been celebratory. Then Dahyun had thrown up. Tzuyu not long after. Pretty soon they’d all felt wrong about it. She didn’t regret it. Not really. She regretted all that she’d done and not done. Everything that’d led to Aisling getting killed. 

She debated on how much she’d tell Sana. Yet that’d defeat the purpose of being realistic. 

“We killed the one who leaked the information and we got the sniper,” Dahyun said slowly. She didn’t look at Sana, not wanting to see the words sink in. “It’s not like I’m saying revenge kills are okay, but, well,” she broke off. How the hell was Sana supposed to take that?

Then Sana spoke. “I think I get it.” She set down her coffee and scooted closer. “Can I ask when it happened?”

“Five years and a half years ago,” Dahyun replied. 

A head came to rest on her shoulder. It surprised her. How could Sana hear something like that and still want to even be around her? Let alone this? She had to ask. 

“Sana,” she started. 

“You’re several years older now,” Sana said. “It’s still wrong, and a crime, but I’ve seen who you are now. All six of you. You were grieving her and I think all of you had reached your limits. You said it yourself, you were desperate, going to any lengths possible to make your own way in Kepler.” A pause. “But I might be biased.” 

Two sets of arms wrapped themselves around Dahyun, pulling her close.

“Can you hold me?” asked the princess. 

Dahyun was still half in shock at her words. Sana wasn’t excusing what she’d done. No one should, but she was still leaving in them in the past.

She put her arms around Sana’s shoulders. She pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Sana murmured. A few moments passed. “And just so you know, I do have the power to get you your money. And we will pay for the damages that happened here.”

“Actually, you really don’t have to,” Dahyun her hair, “we’re taking a new ship outta here.”

Sana looked up at that, confusion evident in her eyes. Then it was replaced by guilt. “Oh.”

Damn, she thought. “Anyone who knows the Breakthrough was here ‘round the time you came back’s gonna make the connection. We have to, literally, jump ship.” 

“But you love this ship.”

Dahyun smiled at how defensive the princess sounded. “True, but I love the girls more. The crew’ll also love the new designs. Chaeng’s already said she’s doing the outside.”

“So it won’t be—”

“Be very careful, Your Highness,” Dahyun winked, “her lifespan may be shorter, but the Breakthrough’s still one of the best ships you’ll ever fly in.”

Sana laughed. “Alright, Your Majesty.” She bowed her head. “You’ll have a new and improved version of her.”

Dahyun hummed in approval. “Indeed.”

She laughed again, nuzzling into her neck. “Can I help with the ship?”

“You want to?” 

The princess had her own projects she’d been excited to work on. 

“If you have any need of me,” Sana’s lips brushed against her skin as she spoke, “but I want to. Really.”

Dahyun smiled, tightening her grip on her. “Then you will.” She didn’t say it, but Sana working on the next ship with her and Chaeyoung sounded amazing. It made her appreciate the princess even more.

____

Nayeon was cleaning her arm. It was an incredible contraption, maybe one of the most aesthetically pleasing things Dahyun had ever worked on. She hadn’t designed it, clearly, but she had improved on them. Nayeon sometimes wondered what would’ve happened if Dahyun hadn’t been into working as a forger. If her skill had been found by one of the higher-ups on Artemis, she would’ve gone far in their manufacturing line. If she’d been born on Aphrodite, she would’ve been invaluable for any one of the branches. 

Nayeon also wondered how life would’ve turned out if she hadn’t been born on Aphrodite. What would her skill set have led to her doing otherwise? She wasn’t sure. If she’d been on Artemis, she’d probably have gotten into the same line of work. The same for Kepler. And now, as she’d seen with a certain someone, it would’ve probably been the same if she was on Earth. Of course, the exact place and time where she’d be born would play a role there, as well as where her family stood within the system. For all the right (and wrong) reasons, she’d had a direct line to getting her line of work. A lot of the time, she’d been called privileged. Looking back, she knew they were right, but she still felt that they’d been so wrong. 

If one of the passengers asked her what her work had been, would she tell them the truth? In her mind, the spy wasn’t one to judge, but for all Nayeon knew, she could’ve been the saint of spies, never doing something that extended beyond hacking and snooping. 

Then there was a knock on the door. One she’d both hoped for and dreaded. 

Nayeon stood and opened it. The door was probably locked by a code that Mina wouldn’t be able to open. 

Mina was looking at the ceiling. She jumped, looking surprised that Nayeon was there. 

“Hi.” Nayeon drew the word out, wondering if it would aggravate her. It was a good way to see where Mina was on the spectrum that was her patience. 

She got no rise out of her. 

Instead, Mina only asked, “may I come in?” Her back was straight, but her eyes were tired. 

Nayeon wondered what thoughts were going through her head. Clearly they had kept her up at night. Maybe she was going through every piece of information she couldn’t divulge to any of them. Maybe she was mentally noting down every single person she knew of and judging whether or not they were the traitor. Jeongyeon had told her the spy had spent most of the last few hours in the cockpit with her, watching the footage of the search over and over again. 

“Sure thing,” Nayeon waved her metal arm, “just making sure this one is in good condition.” 

“Do you need help?” 

The question did more than shock her. It made Nayeon think a little more. What had been going through her mind these last hours? 

She shook her head. “All good, should almost be finished.” She sat down on her bed, pointing at the chair. “But you can keep me company.” 

Mina sat, not even responding to a perfect comeback opportunity.

“Wanna talk about your theories?” Nayeon asked. “Or are we not cleared for it?”

The spy’s eyes were on the table. There was a tablet on it, one Nayeon hadn’t turned off. It gave away what Nayeon had been reading up on: Earther companies, specifically the ones not fully under the control of the Earthers. 

“To tell you names,” Mina tapped the edge of the device, “even to hint at which of these are on my list, could be considered some sort of betrayal to those loyal to the emperor and empress.” 

“Does it help if I say my lips are sealed?”

“No.” 

Nayeon smiled. “Thought so.” That meant she knew the boundaries, how easily information could be used against her, and how even people you semi-trusted not to speak could be a liability. 

Mina frowned. “Why do you sound happy about that?” 

“I’ve known people who’ll be naive enough to jump at pushing seeds of doubt into a person.” She shrugged. “And I’m pretty sure there’re a couple of people there you wish could be out of the picture.”

All it would take was a targeted suggestion and Nayeon could pull it all together. They’d have someone they could try framing before they left Earth. Or someone they could mention by name if they were interviewed on Earth. That wouldn’t mean much at first, until more clues were found or suggestions made by Mina herself at the table where these people reached decisions. Then everything else would come together and a story could be spun. A situation like this was perfect for driving out political opposition. 

That didn’t mean this wouldn’t happen, but Mina probably wasn’t going to try and use them for that. It wasn’t much, but it was still something. Something Nayeon could hold on to about the spy. 

“Is it safe to say you know more about politics than one would’ve originally assumed?” Mina asked. Her eyes were now just on the wall. It was more a statement than a proper question. 

Nayeon got up, tossing the things she’d used for her arm in the sink. 

“You’re saying you thought I was a politics noob?” Nayeon pushed her sleeve down over the metal. 

A tiny smile was her response. “Not exactly.” 

Nayeon laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t blame you. We don’t exactly talk like leading politicians.” 

A silence began then. She decided that she’d let Mina break it. Instead of talking, she just took up her tablet and scrolled through it absentmindedly.

The silence continued. Was Mina here to apologise? Or just here to make some kind of peace without having to say the words, ‘I’m sorry’. 

“I’m,” Mina started, her eyes set on Nayeon’s. Then the words stopped. Was her pride really that strong that she couldn’t actually apologise? It wouldn’t be that surprising. 

Still, Nayeon waited. Whatever Mina came here to say, she’d let her. If it was another attack, Nayeon was pretty sure she was allowed to chew her out again. 

“I should have never even suggested that you were working for them,” Mina said. “And I should have known you wouldn’t have been bought.” 

“Maybe don’t go that far,” Nayeon shrugged, “but enough that I wouldn’t sell you out to Aphrodite.” She tried to give her a smile. “I’m terrible and untrustworthy, but I’m not that bad.”

“You’re not untrustworthy,” the spy said quietly. “Not that much.” 

She laughed at that. “Thanks.” 

Mina’s expression softened. It was as good as a smile coming from her. When tension wasn’t radiating from her every pore, she was stunning. 

Nayeon nearly sighed. “Sorry for freaking out at you. Knowing that your original escape from a system actually ended up failing can do that to you.” 

Mina nodded. She didn’t say anything, but Nayeon knew she wanted to ask her about that escape. Nayeon wasn’t ready to tell her. She wasn’t ready to go through that story again. 

“I know a little about how you left Coruscant. The three of you,” Mina said. 

“Sana told you.” Because Dahyun had told her. That was okay. Clearly, her co-captain was leaving out Nayeon’s side of the story. She was grateful for that.

She nodded again. “Was that alright?” 

“Inevitable,” Nayeon sighed, “clearly.” 

Again, Mina didn’t respond. She only leaned back, putting her hands together. Expecting. Either an answer or nothing. 

She’d get silence. Nayeon wasn’t going to tell that story. 

“Anyway,” Mina said, stepping away. “I’m sorry about what I said. You were right to be angry. You’re right to still be angry.” She went to the door, stopping just before. She looked like she wanted to say something. 

Nayeon wanted to hear it. 

Then Mina turned away. The door slid open. And she was gone. 

____

Author's Note 

Considering what happened last chapter, I thought it was time for a bit of a chill chapter for both the relationships. It's partially a chapter of reconciliation and facing the past. 

Nayeon's story is still not complete, but more light's been shed on Dahyun's. If you've any questions and they're not spoilers, feel free to ask! 

Regardless, I would love to know your thoughts thus far! Hope you're all doing well. 

See you in the next chapter