Chapter Text
“Kal!”
Reegar looks up from his rifle, sliding the barrel back into place with the ease of someone who probably spends way too much time playing with guns.
“Veetor,” he says. “Hey, kid. I thought you had therapy.”
Veetor bounces on the balls of his feet in front of him. It makes Reegar nervous watching him; he looks like a terrified bunny rabbit. But it seems to keep him calm, so Reegar doubts there's anything he can do about it.
“No,” he says. “My doctor is sick, so she isn't seeing anyone. Are you really going to Palaven?”
Reegar sets his gun aside. “That's what it looks like,” he says. “How'd you find out?”
Veetor takes a seat beside him. “Tali'Zorah told me,” he says. “She recommended you for the assignment, you know.”
Reegar nods. “I know,” he says. “Tali'Zorah's a smart girl. She knew where I needed to be, and she put me there. Even if she didn't like it.”
Veetor stares out over the common area, and Reegar can't help noticing that he's shaking.
“You'll come back though, right?” he asks. Reegar slips his arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer.
“I dunno,” he admits. “I'll try. But I can't make any promises.”
Veetor nods. He's rocking back and forth in his seat; his arms wrapped around his stomach as the rest of the crew mills about and talks and plans what they'll do with their new land.
“But I'll see you again,” Veetor says. “Right?”
Reegar stares out across the ship, and he sighs.
“I hope so, kid,” he says.
-
Reegar doesn't have a chance to set foot on Rannoch; he ends up being shuttled from the Rayya to a cruiser bound for the Apien Crest, and from there he finds himself on a frigate to Palaven.
He's only half-listening to the conversations around him, focusing instead on checking his thermal clip supplies, so he's only distantly aware of the fact that at some point the conversation turned from the battle to Rannoch. He doesn't notice that it's moved on from that until someone says his name, and he looks up, confused.
“Sorry, ma'am,” he says. “I was distracted. What do you need?”
The soldier closest to him laughs, and Reegar ignores the urge to shoot her.
“We were talking about what we'd do when we got back home,” she says. “I think the most common plan is to drink until the stars burn out. How about you?”
Reegar frowns. “Not sure yet, ma'am,” he says. “We have to live to see home before we can decide what to do with it.”
The soldier sighs. “You're a cheery one,” she says. Reegar smiles.
“Not my job to be cheerful, ma'am,” he says. “I'm just here to shoot things.”
The soldier laughs. “Fair enough,” she says, and the group turns back into themselves, talking and laughing as if they aren't about to land in a war zone.
He knows that, strictly speaking, his squad doesn't have the most dangerous assignment. They'll be going from checkpoint to checkpoint, reinforcing the lines of communication with Palaven Command and gathering information on enemy strength and tactics. But he also knows that unless they're careful and keep their shields up, they could be killed as effectively by a scratch as by a bullet to the head.
“What about you, Commander?” the soldier asks, distracting him. “You have a girl back with the F- back on Rannoch?”
Reegar checks his gun, making sure it's still serviceable. “No,” he says, and switches on his comm unit. “Do you have our ETA?”
“Five minutes, sir,” the pilot reports.
The soldier is still watching him. “A boy?” she asks. Reegar hesitates, and sighs.
“Something like that,” he says. “Pack your gear up, we land in three. Leave anything you can't use to fight. They'll swing around and drop it off at the first checkpoint while we're getting our asses shot off by the Reapers.”
“Yes, sir!”
The soldier shoulders her sniper rifle, and her gaze is starting to make him uncomfortable.
“Think you'll see him again?” she asks. Reegar glances out the window, towards where the Reaper troops are already beginning to take notice of them.
“I hope so,” he says.
“And if you don't?”
“I'll work that out when we get there. Let's go!”
-
Veetor isn't sleeping when Elan comes to find him, and somehow she isn't surprised.
He's sitting on his bed, though, so she supposes that's an improvement. Staring out his window at the moon with a blanket wrapped around him. From what he's told her, he used to do that on Freedom's Progress. Looking for the man in the moon, he said. Apparently it was some sort of game the children would play with him when he got too nervous.
She wonders what's bothering him tonight.
She wonders if she can put off telling him for a few more hours.
“Hello, doctor,” he says. He isn't looking at her, but there are only two people in the galaxy with the codes to disengage the locks on his door, so she supposes she shouldn't be surprised.
“Hello, Veetor,” she replies. “Are you having nightmares again?”
Veetor looks toward her. “No,” he says. “I was – I couldn't sleep.” He pauses for a moment, and she watches him pull the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “What happened?”
Elan hesitates. “I just wanted to see how you were,” she says finally. “I can't sleep, either.”
Veetor turns back to the moon. “Kal's out there,” he says absently. “But he'll come back. He always does.”
Elan swallows, hard and goes to sit beside him. From this vantage point, she can see the stars, laughing down at her like an army of ghosts.
“Yes,” she says, and something in her stomach clenches so tightly she almost can't continue. “I suppose he does.”
She reaches over and takes his hand, and she tries to ignore the churning in her stomach that sounds far too much like Han'Gerrel saying killed in action.