A Measure of Sacrifice (6/8)
Title: A Measure of Sacrifice (6/8)
Authors: butterflyweb and rawthornewrites
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: GD/Top, BaeRi
Warnings: Character death, violence
Summary: Seunghyun passes out at 8:14, Seoul time. By the time he wakes, at 10:32, the fifty-six Allied Military outposts on Earth and eleven out of fifteen satellites in space have been blown to smithereens.
Author's Note: This is a follow up to A Measure of Salvation, however, if you prefer the ambiguity of that fic's ending, by all means, it can still stand alone. Banner made by the wonderful and talented atenais_pala.
On his knees in their borrowed room, Seunghyun tugs the pillow off the bed to slip behind a blonde head, gentler and slower than he's ever moved. He smiles apologetically when Jiyong rolls his eyes. This is his chance to take care of a lover who doesn't need his attention to know he's loved. This is his chance to cement what they've said with lips and hands and limbs entwined through body heat and affection.
"There's a perfectly good bed you could be lying on," Jiyong points out, amused, "this can't be easy on your knee anyway."
Seunghyun shrugs the question aside. "This is where you are, so it's where I am, too. What part of that is unclear to you?"
Jiyong smiles at him, affection heavy in the gaze, reaching to brush Seunghyun's heavy fringe from his eyes. Curling the hand around his nape to bring him closer.
"Fool."
He is nothing if not that, terrified beyond recall of the path they've chosen and still clinging to this moment, prolonging it from an hour into two and three and six. Six hours of exhaustion that he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. He kisses him again, pressing his lips to the hollow of his throat just to feel Jiyong's every intake of breath. His beating pulse.
"Tell me something," Seunghyun begs. "Do they have marriage on your world?"
Jiyong's fingers slide into his hair, stroking softly, a favorite habit of the Ahma's, it seems. "Of course we do," he laughs softly, kissing Seunghyun's temple. "Not quite the same as on Earth. An Ahma can have many marriage partners, but only one bondmate. If that makes sense."
Not really, but Seunghyun nods anyway. It sounds enough like what he'd like to share with Jiyong that he ignores the fine print. He submits to the petting as he leans over him on one elbow. "Are you... married to anyone?"
It earns him a tilt of Jiyong's head, confusion and curiosity in the Ahma's expression.
"I haven't been on Ahman since I was a child." He gives him a smile that's a little too wide, quieting immediately. "Why are you asking me these things?"
It seems unkind to lie, not to mention that he can't, not with Jiyong looking at him like he can see into the depths of his soul. He drops his gaze instead, fingers tracing patterns over Jiyong's pale skin. "Why do you think?"
The Ahma gives him a soft smile, brushing fingertips over Seunghyun's cheek.
"You've decided you really fancy Seungri and want my blessing?"
Seunghyun glances up, confused for a brief second before he sees his lover's smile. "No, thanks. One group of crazed Nabu on my case is enough. I was asking for you. I wanted to... I know relationships built under fire never last, but I love you. I want to be married to you."
Jiyong's dark eyes never leave his, thumb brushing over his temple, just looking at him for the longest moment.
"Seunghyun," he murmurs, and Seunghyun has a moment to think how he likes the sound of his name in his voice, how he wants to hear it from Jiyong's lips for the rest of his life. "Aheri, we're tied. I'm yours in any way you want me to be."
It's a strange thing to be bound so deeply with someone. Words can't express it. "If we... If you marry me, we could have this. On every planet, in every system. I don't want you to be afraid again." Not like he was when they came to Earth and he lied his way through interrogation. "I could take your name, if you want..."
Jiyong smiles at him, happy and genuine, winding his arms around Seunghyun's neck where he's leaned over him.
"Choi suits you. I like it." He tugs gently on Seunghyun's hair. "I don't want to own you either."
Seunghyun shifts closer, pressing his lips to his. "I love you." That should be--is enough. Everything else is just ritual. Not quite meaningless, not quite important, in the scheme of things.
He lets the kiss stretch and grow into something intense and sweet, the warm edges engulfing them like the comfort of a lie. This isn't forever. The world stands against them. In a few hours, all this won't be more than a pleasant memory to keep them warm in the black.
I'll come back, Seunghyun thinks, eyes closed, a palm pressed to Jiyong's cheek. I'll come back for this. He makes the promise, silent, willful, even though he knows he's on his third strike when it comes to cheating death. Unsure if he can spit in the face of the grim one more time.
They get dressed in tandem, stealing kisses and glances at each other as they cover up behind thick, rough cotton. Seunghyun presses against his lover's back, reaching down to fasten his zipper with careful hands. It's one way to prepare for battle.
"Are you going to fly with her?" Jiyong asks quietly, shifting in his arms.
He kisses his nape.
"In another ship, I think. I'm not a pilot, but I learned enough to be competent out there. We have to have as many fliers out there as we can."
Jiyong doesn't contradict what they both know to be fact. He doesn't ask him not to go, doesn't make deals and bargains neither of them can keep. He just nods, leaning back into his hold. "I'll look for you on the radar screens."
He keeps his arms around him for long moments, loathe to let him go. They deserve more time, he thinks rashly, selfishly. Drops a kiss on soft blonde hair.
"It'll be fine. You'll see. We're gonna make it out of this."
Jiyong says nothing, but this time, when he's released, he turns to kiss Seunghyun harshly, teeth biting at his lips. It's a goodbye and an I love you and come back to me or I'll hunt you down and kill you myself all rolled into one. He echoes the sentiment with the same intensity before he lets it go.
Neither of them looks back into the room as they close the door behind them one last time. The corridors are brighter than usual, generators working overtime to boost up the defensive effort.
The smell of coffee is everywhere, not least in the General's office.
Lee is clean-faced, her hair still wet where it's twisted back, a dark blue flightsuit shapeless on her frame down to where it's tucked in her boots. She looks up at him when he comes in, nodding to herself almost absently.
"We have a one man craft ready for you. Alarms have been raised in all the Allied nations, they're giving what help they each can. They'll be flying under Korea's lead." She leans back in her chair. "Two flight hangers in Pyongyang were spared, thank God. "
Jiyong goes to Seungri's side without so much as saying goodbye. Seunghyun is thankful, his eyes on the hologram above Lee's desk. He can keep his head in the game, like this. He can ignore the high chance of never seeing his lover again.
"We'll need to launch the US fleet first, they've got a longer journey to make," he judges, looking through the pixelated revolutions of their blue home to meet Lee's gaze. "Or launch them at the same time and wait until they're parallel to join the fight. They won't be expecting us to retaliate, but they'll adapt. We'd be wise not to underestimate their tactics."
The flicker of a smile tugs at the General's mouth. "That's what your computer said. We'll use the Korean and Chinese fighters to knock out their engines. If we're lucky, we'll hit maybe twenty to thirty ships. That should make them rally around their wounded and break formation."
Seunghyun nods, following the logic. "Then send in the Americans and the EU, hit them heavy while they're disorganized."
"Exactly." Lee taps her fingers on the desk. "With your computer running ships, we can easily send them in as the first wave and lessen the body count."
He can't help but wonder if Daesung will feel any pain from the lost fighter crafts. He didn't ask how it felt to be taken off their ship and plugged into the Nabu, but makes a mental note of it. Daesung isn't a piece of tech. He's a friend.
"What about the ship we recovered from them in the first battle? Daesung has full control of it, could we use it as a decoy?"
Lee ponders the suggestion for a long moment. "If I were in their shoes, I'd shoot it down before it got within a hundred clicks of me. But we could cloak it and wait until they're too busy to notice to push it right into the center of their fleet." She looks pensive for a moment, her pencil stilling against the desk. "We could load it up full of nukes and detonate when we're in range. Take the head off the snake in one huge blast..."
The glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes makes Seunghyun shiver uncomfortably. It's a good plan. That only makes him even more uneasy. "Daesung could detonate it remotely. We wouldn't have to use a crew."
She nods slowly, considering the proposal, drumming her fingers on her thigh.
"We'll do it." Her gaze flicks to his. "Your Nabu wants to be cleared to fly. The idea doesn't exactly thrill me."
Seunghyun arches a brow. "He's a powerful weapon. He's one of them, he could help us predict their next move." He doesn't tell her Youngbae has been wrong before, that he's been misled by his own fears. This isn't the time. Seungri won't fly without the Nabu and Seunghyun would just as soon not leave their friend on the prime target of the alien attack.
Her gaze meets his steadily. "Then he can do it from the ground. It's one thing to be an informant, it's an entirely different thing to attack your own race. If he turns, he can fuck us over huge."
"He won't turn." Youngbae isn't the sort. He's too righteous, too involved in this to change sides now. "I trust him."
"Good for you. I don't. He'll stay on the ground. As soon as we have control of the situation, I'll consider his request again."
Seunghyun presses his lips together thinly, unsure why he's protesting this so strongly. Maybe Youngbae should stay behind. He was inches from death and still looks like it, movements slow and skin sallow. But the thought of leaving any of them behind makes his stomach clench.
"Put him on a ship with me. I'll keep an eye on him."
"No go, flyboy," Lee returns without so much as raising her voice. "I need you in a fighter craft with your eyes on the ball, not playing babysitter. We're the only two pilots who've seen a Nabu ship up close, let alone fired on one. I need you as my XO." Her lips stretch into a tight smile. "You wanted to reenlist, right? Well, consider this a promotion."
It's a good enough way to close the book as any, his mouth snapping shut.
"Fine."
She brushes a wisp of her bangs off her forehead, nodding in the direction of the door. "You should suit up. Your computer will debrief you. When those fucks come, we're going to be waiting for them."
He doesn't tell her that blind courage won't get them very far, that they're outnumbered and outgunned and probably going to their deaths. She knows all that, so he keeps his mouth shut, readying for the attack when it comes - and it will. Daesung and Youngbae agree. There's no stopping what's about to happen.
Seunghyun presses nails into his palm and goes to join the others.
*
At oh five hundred hours there is a meeting on base premises. With what little tech has been left undamaged, Lee broadcasts the feed to the global network and the Allied troops stationed on four other continents. She speaks clearly and plainly and she doesn't waver under the weight of responsibility.
Seunghyun stands at her side, the ground all but shaking under his feet. He's never been part of anything remotely like this but that's simply because there hasn't been anything remotely similar since life appeared on Earth. They are used to fighting each other, to facing mutually assured destruction over petty, human interests. The fear of extinction is a novelty.
The heat of the reflecting lights makes his hands itch. Lee broaches the subject of casualties. She doesn't bother with military secrecy: "Our estimates are far from favorable. If we are extremely fortunate, if the Nabu don't retaliate quickly enough... if our Gods are with us... we expect only seventy-eight percent dead and wounded of all those who take up arms on this day. I am a realist. We are all realists. If we do not fight this battle, billions will perish. Many more will end up in slavery--"
She collects herself, hands shaking were they are hidden behind the podium.
"We did not begin this war. We did not seek out the Nabu to take their homes, their families... their way of life. They have come here to destroy us and in so doing, they have left us with one course of action and one course alone. We must fight... and for all those that we hold dear, we must win." A pin dropping in the long, overpopulated hall would be heard without difficulty. Lee fixes her men. "You have your orders. The Gods be with you. Dismissed."
She doesn't linger, taking long strides as she leaves the podium, lips pressed thinly together. Every inch a soldier and a leader, he thinks. Had she been given the time to grow, slow shouldering of responsibility, she could've been a remarkable General.
Lee slows as she passes him, something softening in her face as she nears him. Her hand touches his shoulder, small for the strength it commands.
"I'd say your goodbyes, Lieutenant."
The advice is welcome but unnecessary. Seunghyun bites down on the inside of his cheek, nodding. In a couple of hours, there won't be any time for soft words and regrets. He takes that thought with him as he makes his way to where Jiyong sits in the front row, Seungri by his side. Youngbae isn't there. It was judged inappropriate to have him attend. Seunghyun tells himself he didn't dispute the decision because it was meaningless.
Jiyong gives him a shaky smile, the ugly uniform fitting him perfectly. He's one of them now. "So this is it, huh?"
"Not what you expected?"
Seungri snorts, hands hanging between his knees. "He was expecting war paint."
He raises an eyebrow, taking the empty seat beside them. "War paint?"
The corners of Jiyong's mouth lift, the Ahma running his fingers back through his messy blonde hair. The gesture is decidedly nervous and Seunghyun can't help but ache for him.
"Like in the paintings and the books on Ahman." Jiyong shrugs a little. "I guess you've evolved beyond that, huh?"
Seunghyun takes his hand. "Wait until we get ready for takeoff. Are you two okay to--"
"We'll be fine," Jiyong assures him. "Will you?"
"Don't worry about me. I'm practically indestructible by now, remember?" Seunghyun tries to smile at him, squeezing at his hand. He's cheated death twice. He can do it again. "Just... try to make the missiles count, yeah? We'll do the rest."
Uncaring of the soldiers amassed around them, Jiyong leans in, kissing him hard on the mouth. "Okay. Okay... I'm ready." He stands without wavering. "We'll see you afterwards."
He touches his cheek.
"I'll see you afterwards."
*
When he left Europa by way of Jupiter's last standing military base, Seunghyun swore he would never climb into the cockpit of a fighter craft again. He did it in a time of peace, when giving up was easy and when the military was still struggling to cope with the fallout of the war. Negotiations flourished, ultimately concluding in the Wide Alliance that brought all former foes together in a sort of global government.
That was then and this is now. There is no government anymore, or at least none with any power. The military is splintered between a police force that has to keep the looting down to a minimum on the ground and a beaten down, inexperienced force that's taking off to protect against a much better prepared enemy.
Lee has pulled every man and woman and computer she could find. She's reequipped transport carriers and the personal shuttles of the rich and famous. She's cajoled Seunghyun into climbing into the cockpit again and that's more than trained psychiatrists have been able to do. Then again, none of them provided this kind of incentive.
Seunghyun takes a deep breath, trying to calm his rushing pulse. The helmet feels heavy on his shoulders, pressing him down into the uncomfortable seat. His hands are steady on the controls. His fuel gauge spells a full tank. The magazines are locked and loaded.
He sets his radio to the right frequency, expecting excited, nervous chatter. The other boys and girls are silent, but on occasion, there are muttered curses and muttered prayers that remind him he's not alone.
Daesung's disembodied voice filters through. "Alpha Squadron, prepare for take-off."
One final check, one final prayer and then the whir of the engines ignites, rattling the small craft. Seunghyun thinks of Jiyong as his ship leaves the ground.
Authors: butterflyweb and rawthornewrites
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: GD/Top, BaeRi
Warnings: Character death, violence
Summary: Seunghyun passes out at 8:14, Seoul time. By the time he wakes, at 10:32, the fifty-six Allied Military outposts on Earth and eleven out of fifteen satellites in space have been blown to smithereens.
Author's Note: This is a follow up to A Measure of Salvation, however, if you prefer the ambiguity of that fic's ending, by all means, it can still stand alone. Banner made by the wonderful and talented atenais_pala.
On his knees in their borrowed room, Seunghyun tugs the pillow off the bed to slip behind a blonde head, gentler and slower than he's ever moved. He smiles apologetically when Jiyong rolls his eyes. This is his chance to take care of a lover who doesn't need his attention to know he's loved. This is his chance to cement what they've said with lips and hands and limbs entwined through body heat and affection.
"There's a perfectly good bed you could be lying on," Jiyong points out, amused, "this can't be easy on your knee anyway."
Seunghyun shrugs the question aside. "This is where you are, so it's where I am, too. What part of that is unclear to you?"
Jiyong smiles at him, affection heavy in the gaze, reaching to brush Seunghyun's heavy fringe from his eyes. Curling the hand around his nape to bring him closer.
"Fool."
He is nothing if not that, terrified beyond recall of the path they've chosen and still clinging to this moment, prolonging it from an hour into two and three and six. Six hours of exhaustion that he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. He kisses him again, pressing his lips to the hollow of his throat just to feel Jiyong's every intake of breath. His beating pulse.
"Tell me something," Seunghyun begs. "Do they have marriage on your world?"
Jiyong's fingers slide into his hair, stroking softly, a favorite habit of the Ahma's, it seems. "Of course we do," he laughs softly, kissing Seunghyun's temple. "Not quite the same as on Earth. An Ahma can have many marriage partners, but only one bondmate. If that makes sense."
Not really, but Seunghyun nods anyway. It sounds enough like what he'd like to share with Jiyong that he ignores the fine print. He submits to the petting as he leans over him on one elbow. "Are you... married to anyone?"
It earns him a tilt of Jiyong's head, confusion and curiosity in the Ahma's expression.
"I haven't been on Ahman since I was a child." He gives him a smile that's a little too wide, quieting immediately. "Why are you asking me these things?"
It seems unkind to lie, not to mention that he can't, not with Jiyong looking at him like he can see into the depths of his soul. He drops his gaze instead, fingers tracing patterns over Jiyong's pale skin. "Why do you think?"
The Ahma gives him a soft smile, brushing fingertips over Seunghyun's cheek.
"You've decided you really fancy Seungri and want my blessing?"
Seunghyun glances up, confused for a brief second before he sees his lover's smile. "No, thanks. One group of crazed Nabu on my case is enough. I was asking for you. I wanted to... I know relationships built under fire never last, but I love you. I want to be married to you."
Jiyong's dark eyes never leave his, thumb brushing over his temple, just looking at him for the longest moment.
"Seunghyun," he murmurs, and Seunghyun has a moment to think how he likes the sound of his name in his voice, how he wants to hear it from Jiyong's lips for the rest of his life. "Aheri, we're tied. I'm yours in any way you want me to be."
It's a strange thing to be bound so deeply with someone. Words can't express it. "If we... If you marry me, we could have this. On every planet, in every system. I don't want you to be afraid again." Not like he was when they came to Earth and he lied his way through interrogation. "I could take your name, if you want..."
Jiyong smiles at him, happy and genuine, winding his arms around Seunghyun's neck where he's leaned over him.
"Choi suits you. I like it." He tugs gently on Seunghyun's hair. "I don't want to own you either."
Seunghyun shifts closer, pressing his lips to his. "I love you." That should be--is enough. Everything else is just ritual. Not quite meaningless, not quite important, in the scheme of things.
He lets the kiss stretch and grow into something intense and sweet, the warm edges engulfing them like the comfort of a lie. This isn't forever. The world stands against them. In a few hours, all this won't be more than a pleasant memory to keep them warm in the black.
I'll come back, Seunghyun thinks, eyes closed, a palm pressed to Jiyong's cheek. I'll come back for this. He makes the promise, silent, willful, even though he knows he's on his third strike when it comes to cheating death. Unsure if he can spit in the face of the grim one more time.
They get dressed in tandem, stealing kisses and glances at each other as they cover up behind thick, rough cotton. Seunghyun presses against his lover's back, reaching down to fasten his zipper with careful hands. It's one way to prepare for battle.
"Are you going to fly with her?" Jiyong asks quietly, shifting in his arms.
He kisses his nape.
"In another ship, I think. I'm not a pilot, but I learned enough to be competent out there. We have to have as many fliers out there as we can."
Jiyong doesn't contradict what they both know to be fact. He doesn't ask him not to go, doesn't make deals and bargains neither of them can keep. He just nods, leaning back into his hold. "I'll look for you on the radar screens."
He keeps his arms around him for long moments, loathe to let him go. They deserve more time, he thinks rashly, selfishly. Drops a kiss on soft blonde hair.
"It'll be fine. You'll see. We're gonna make it out of this."
Jiyong says nothing, but this time, when he's released, he turns to kiss Seunghyun harshly, teeth biting at his lips. It's a goodbye and an I love you and come back to me or I'll hunt you down and kill you myself all rolled into one. He echoes the sentiment with the same intensity before he lets it go.
Neither of them looks back into the room as they close the door behind them one last time. The corridors are brighter than usual, generators working overtime to boost up the defensive effort.
The smell of coffee is everywhere, not least in the General's office.
Lee is clean-faced, her hair still wet where it's twisted back, a dark blue flightsuit shapeless on her frame down to where it's tucked in her boots. She looks up at him when he comes in, nodding to herself almost absently.
"We have a one man craft ready for you. Alarms have been raised in all the Allied nations, they're giving what help they each can. They'll be flying under Korea's lead." She leans back in her chair. "Two flight hangers in Pyongyang were spared, thank God. "
Jiyong goes to Seungri's side without so much as saying goodbye. Seunghyun is thankful, his eyes on the hologram above Lee's desk. He can keep his head in the game, like this. He can ignore the high chance of never seeing his lover again.
"We'll need to launch the US fleet first, they've got a longer journey to make," he judges, looking through the pixelated revolutions of their blue home to meet Lee's gaze. "Or launch them at the same time and wait until they're parallel to join the fight. They won't be expecting us to retaliate, but they'll adapt. We'd be wise not to underestimate their tactics."
The flicker of a smile tugs at the General's mouth. "That's what your computer said. We'll use the Korean and Chinese fighters to knock out their engines. If we're lucky, we'll hit maybe twenty to thirty ships. That should make them rally around their wounded and break formation."
Seunghyun nods, following the logic. "Then send in the Americans and the EU, hit them heavy while they're disorganized."
"Exactly." Lee taps her fingers on the desk. "With your computer running ships, we can easily send them in as the first wave and lessen the body count."
He can't help but wonder if Daesung will feel any pain from the lost fighter crafts. He didn't ask how it felt to be taken off their ship and plugged into the Nabu, but makes a mental note of it. Daesung isn't a piece of tech. He's a friend.
"What about the ship we recovered from them in the first battle? Daesung has full control of it, could we use it as a decoy?"
Lee ponders the suggestion for a long moment. "If I were in their shoes, I'd shoot it down before it got within a hundred clicks of me. But we could cloak it and wait until they're too busy to notice to push it right into the center of their fleet." She looks pensive for a moment, her pencil stilling against the desk. "We could load it up full of nukes and detonate when we're in range. Take the head off the snake in one huge blast..."
The glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes makes Seunghyun shiver uncomfortably. It's a good plan. That only makes him even more uneasy. "Daesung could detonate it remotely. We wouldn't have to use a crew."
She nods slowly, considering the proposal, drumming her fingers on her thigh.
"We'll do it." Her gaze flicks to his. "Your Nabu wants to be cleared to fly. The idea doesn't exactly thrill me."
Seunghyun arches a brow. "He's a powerful weapon. He's one of them, he could help us predict their next move." He doesn't tell her Youngbae has been wrong before, that he's been misled by his own fears. This isn't the time. Seungri won't fly without the Nabu and Seunghyun would just as soon not leave their friend on the prime target of the alien attack.
Her gaze meets his steadily. "Then he can do it from the ground. It's one thing to be an informant, it's an entirely different thing to attack your own race. If he turns, he can fuck us over huge."
"He won't turn." Youngbae isn't the sort. He's too righteous, too involved in this to change sides now. "I trust him."
"Good for you. I don't. He'll stay on the ground. As soon as we have control of the situation, I'll consider his request again."
Seunghyun presses his lips together thinly, unsure why he's protesting this so strongly. Maybe Youngbae should stay behind. He was inches from death and still looks like it, movements slow and skin sallow. But the thought of leaving any of them behind makes his stomach clench.
"Put him on a ship with me. I'll keep an eye on him."
"No go, flyboy," Lee returns without so much as raising her voice. "I need you in a fighter craft with your eyes on the ball, not playing babysitter. We're the only two pilots who've seen a Nabu ship up close, let alone fired on one. I need you as my XO." Her lips stretch into a tight smile. "You wanted to reenlist, right? Well, consider this a promotion."
It's a good enough way to close the book as any, his mouth snapping shut.
"Fine."
She brushes a wisp of her bangs off her forehead, nodding in the direction of the door. "You should suit up. Your computer will debrief you. When those fucks come, we're going to be waiting for them."
He doesn't tell her that blind courage won't get them very far, that they're outnumbered and outgunned and probably going to their deaths. She knows all that, so he keeps his mouth shut, readying for the attack when it comes - and it will. Daesung and Youngbae agree. There's no stopping what's about to happen.
Seunghyun presses nails into his palm and goes to join the others.
*
At oh five hundred hours there is a meeting on base premises. With what little tech has been left undamaged, Lee broadcasts the feed to the global network and the Allied troops stationed on four other continents. She speaks clearly and plainly and she doesn't waver under the weight of responsibility.
Seunghyun stands at her side, the ground all but shaking under his feet. He's never been part of anything remotely like this but that's simply because there hasn't been anything remotely similar since life appeared on Earth. They are used to fighting each other, to facing mutually assured destruction over petty, human interests. The fear of extinction is a novelty.
The heat of the reflecting lights makes his hands itch. Lee broaches the subject of casualties. She doesn't bother with military secrecy: "Our estimates are far from favorable. If we are extremely fortunate, if the Nabu don't retaliate quickly enough... if our Gods are with us... we expect only seventy-eight percent dead and wounded of all those who take up arms on this day. I am a realist. We are all realists. If we do not fight this battle, billions will perish. Many more will end up in slavery--"
She collects herself, hands shaking were they are hidden behind the podium.
"We did not begin this war. We did not seek out the Nabu to take their homes, their families... their way of life. They have come here to destroy us and in so doing, they have left us with one course of action and one course alone. We must fight... and for all those that we hold dear, we must win." A pin dropping in the long, overpopulated hall would be heard without difficulty. Lee fixes her men. "You have your orders. The Gods be with you. Dismissed."
She doesn't linger, taking long strides as she leaves the podium, lips pressed thinly together. Every inch a soldier and a leader, he thinks. Had she been given the time to grow, slow shouldering of responsibility, she could've been a remarkable General.
Lee slows as she passes him, something softening in her face as she nears him. Her hand touches his shoulder, small for the strength it commands.
"I'd say your goodbyes, Lieutenant."
The advice is welcome but unnecessary. Seunghyun bites down on the inside of his cheek, nodding. In a couple of hours, there won't be any time for soft words and regrets. He takes that thought with him as he makes his way to where Jiyong sits in the front row, Seungri by his side. Youngbae isn't there. It was judged inappropriate to have him attend. Seunghyun tells himself he didn't dispute the decision because it was meaningless.
Jiyong gives him a shaky smile, the ugly uniform fitting him perfectly. He's one of them now. "So this is it, huh?"
"Not what you expected?"
Seungri snorts, hands hanging between his knees. "He was expecting war paint."
He raises an eyebrow, taking the empty seat beside them. "War paint?"
The corners of Jiyong's mouth lift, the Ahma running his fingers back through his messy blonde hair. The gesture is decidedly nervous and Seunghyun can't help but ache for him.
"Like in the paintings and the books on Ahman." Jiyong shrugs a little. "I guess you've evolved beyond that, huh?"
Seunghyun takes his hand. "Wait until we get ready for takeoff. Are you two okay to--"
"We'll be fine," Jiyong assures him. "Will you?"
"Don't worry about me. I'm practically indestructible by now, remember?" Seunghyun tries to smile at him, squeezing at his hand. He's cheated death twice. He can do it again. "Just... try to make the missiles count, yeah? We'll do the rest."
Uncaring of the soldiers amassed around them, Jiyong leans in, kissing him hard on the mouth. "Okay. Okay... I'm ready." He stands without wavering. "We'll see you afterwards."
He touches his cheek.
"I'll see you afterwards."
*
When he left Europa by way of Jupiter's last standing military base, Seunghyun swore he would never climb into the cockpit of a fighter craft again. He did it in a time of peace, when giving up was easy and when the military was still struggling to cope with the fallout of the war. Negotiations flourished, ultimately concluding in the Wide Alliance that brought all former foes together in a sort of global government.
That was then and this is now. There is no government anymore, or at least none with any power. The military is splintered between a police force that has to keep the looting down to a minimum on the ground and a beaten down, inexperienced force that's taking off to protect against a much better prepared enemy.
Lee has pulled every man and woman and computer she could find. She's reequipped transport carriers and the personal shuttles of the rich and famous. She's cajoled Seunghyun into climbing into the cockpit again and that's more than trained psychiatrists have been able to do. Then again, none of them provided this kind of incentive.
Seunghyun takes a deep breath, trying to calm his rushing pulse. The helmet feels heavy on his shoulders, pressing him down into the uncomfortable seat. His hands are steady on the controls. His fuel gauge spells a full tank. The magazines are locked and loaded.
He sets his radio to the right frequency, expecting excited, nervous chatter. The other boys and girls are silent, but on occasion, there are muttered curses and muttered prayers that remind him he's not alone.
Daesung's disembodied voice filters through. "Alpha Squadron, prepare for take-off."
One final check, one final prayer and then the whir of the engines ignites, rattling the small craft. Seunghyun thinks of Jiyong as his ship leaves the ground.