The words had been said.

  Adrian’s eyes widened and his head snapped to Reya, Jyn no longer on his mind. He knew what they meant. What they represented. Jyn’s words fell on deaf ears as he watched the light in his love’s eyes die.

  He moved as fast as he could and gathered her in his arms, hoping in vain that his touch could make a difference. The suddenness of being ignored gave Jyn pause as he tried to figure out what was happening. He scanned Reya and saw the hollow expression on her face, devoid life.

  Rann and Jyn bore silent witness as Adrian stroked Reya’s hair and spoke gently in her ear. She was gone, trapped in her memories and reliving the final injection. The only sign of movement the tears that formed in her eyes.

  The moment broke and she snapped.

  Reya’s tears turned into full sobs, and she wailed into Adrian’s shoulder, leaning towards her only source of security in the present. “I’ll listen,” she choked out. “I’ll listen, just not again. Not again.”

  Rann and Jyn were stunned at the reversal in Reya’s demeanor, still unaware of what exactly had triggered it. They could only stare as Reya brought her hands to her head, her glistening eyes wild. Reya screamed out in pain, going limp in Adrian’s arms and relying on him for support.

  “What’s wrong?” Rann asked hurriedly. She saw the look on Adrian’s face, concern and understanding etched into him. There was pain hidden behind his eyes, but Rann didn’t have the care to comprehend it as she was focused on Reya’s wellbeing, not his. It was clear to her that he knew what was happening.

  “You said the only thing you shouldn’t have,” Adrian replied grimly, He spared Rann a quick glance. “Right now she’s remembering what she’s been working hard to forget.” His gaze flicked towards Jyn, and they made eye contact. Jyn recoiled at the anger he saw in Adrian’s eyes. “You did this to her,” Adrian continued. “But for once it isn’t your fault. You had no way of knowing.”

  Adrian held Reya tighter in his arms. “I’m going to take Reya upstairs to our room,” he said. “Do not disturb us until I come back down. Not if you want her to come back.” Gently, he guided Reya up the stairs, refusing to let go of her.

  Rann and Jyn could only watch with apprehension and confusion as the pair ascended the steps and disappeared out of sight. They were unable to hear the sound of the door closing over Reya’s continued sobs.

  They exchanged a glance. “What the fuck was that about?” Rann said. Something tingled in the back of her mind, a detail she felt was missing to make sense of it all. “What was it you said that set her off like that?” she demanded.

  Jyn was at a loss. “I don’t know,” he replied. “Somehow Adrian is the only one that knows anything, but now he’s gone.”

  “If you hadn’t gone off on us like that, none of this would have happened!” Rann hissed. “It was uncalled for and now look at her. She’s a wreck and we don’t know why.”

  “The points I made are valid,” Jyn replied coldly. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if we knew what they were hiding.”

  “Clearly whatever it is they’re hiding was enough to do that to Reya!” Rann exploded. “You continuously try to force the issue. When will you give them a break so they can heal?”

  “Because we know nothing!” Jyn shot back. “We couldn’t possibly have known something would trigger an episode like that from Reya. Doesn’t it bother you, how little we know? Tassie’s been doing work to uncover the facility’s secrets and now Kell is reporting directly to the Tribunal for his research. We’re all deeply involved in this mission, but we have no real intel.”

  “We don’t need to know every secret to properly protect them!” Rann exclaimed.

  “It’s our job to try to learn them,” Jyn countered. “Those are literally our orders. Somehow, this entire mission, I’ve been the bad guy for doing what we were actually told to do.”

  “Are you even the least bit sorry for what you just caused?” Rann asked.

  “Of course I am,” Jyn said, deflating as the wind was taken out of his sails. Faint sobs could be heard from upstairs. Quiet, but unmistakeable. Even from a distance, they could still hear the pain they held. “You think I wanted to hurt Reya that way?” he said. “I still don’t even know what exactly I did that was so wrong.”

  “I don’t know anymore, Jyn,” Rann said. “You haven’t been yourself lately and with all the shit you’ve pulled, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

  Jyn recoiled as though he’d been slapped. “You think so little of me?” he barely croaked out.

  “Should I list all the crap you’ve done?” Rann said, irate. “We’ll be here a while.”

  Jyn didn’t respond. He gave Rann a searching gaze, only to perceive anger and scorn in return. He crumbled under it, wondering where it all went wrong that even his second would have such a low opinion of him. “Call Kell,” he said in defeat. “See what he has to say about Reya’s condition.” He gave one last look of regret towards the stairs. “I’ll see myself out for the time being and check back in later.” He could tell that he wasn’t wanted and knew it would be for the best if he made himself scarce.

  Rann’s piercing gaze followed him out the door where he’d disappeared.

  Alone.

  The retrofit had been done in an astonishingly short amount of time, all things considered. Tassie only had a couple of hours to report her experience directly to High Command and rest from the stress of possibly dying, before being ushered back onto her ship ready for takeoff.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  To personally receive a congratulations from the Tribunal on a job well done left her floating on clouds. After her previous mistake of forgetting to disclose Adrian’s knowledge of plants, she was glad that this summons had gone better. She still wasn’t used to dealing with High Command directly. Just speaking directly with General Nessah was daunting. The Tribunal was even worse.

  To think she would go down in history as the first person to pilot the new engine technology and prove its effectiveness! She was giddy at the thought, anticipating her return to the safe house to tell the others. She could’ve done it using her data slate or the ship’s systems, but this was news she wanted to deliver in person.

  She received clearance from mission control to take flight and was soon off back to the safe house, fresh supplies in hand. Still forced to fly at specific speeds to avoid detection, Tassie’s route back home was a long, complicated one.

  Utterly spent by the time she arrived, Tassie stumbled off the ship late afternoon into the intense heat and trudged towards the house. The supplies could wait until later. They weren’t so vital that they needed to be unloaded right away. She opened the front door and found Kell, Rann, and Beor seated at the kitchen table, concern etched into all of them.

  She quickly greeted them and received heavy stares from everybody. “Have a seat,” Rann said seriously. She motioned to the chair next to Kell for her to sit down. Her actions did nothing to reassure Tassie that everything was fine. “We’re all glad that your mission was a success,” she continued, a soft smile appearing on her face only to disappear after a moment. “How big of an achievement is this?”

  Tassie glanced at the others, trying to get a read on the atmosphere of the room. “It’s huge,” she replied. “I’m probably going in military history books for this.” She launched into a recounting of how the mission went and by just how much the new engines cut down on travel time. The others were absolutely floored. She hadn’t revealed much about the new technology to them when she announced her mission, but to hear just how much of an improvement they were impressed everybody.

  “That’s incredible!” Rann chittered, her earlier air of solemness gone. “The rest of us need to step up our game between you and Reya getting famous,” she teased. And just like that, the heaviness returned.

  During the brief silence that followed, Tassie finally heard the faint sobs coming from upstairs. “Is that crying I hear?” she asked for confirmation.

  Rann nodded. “Something happened while you were away,” she said. All Tassie could feel was dread. “It’s about Reya.”

  “Is she the one crying?” Tassie asked.

  “Yes,” Rann said. “She’s been at it for hours with no sign of stopping. We got into an argument with Jyn when she broke down out of nowhere and has been like that ever since. Adrian is upstairs taking care of her and asked us not to disturb them.”

  Tassie frowned. “What was said?” She couldn’t fathom what it was that would cause such an extreme reaction from seemingly out of the blue.

  “We don’t know,” Rann replied. “Something about listening, but without Adrian to confirm it for us, we’re in the dark.”

  “So far we’ve refrained from going close to the room out of respect,” Kell spoke up, “but I’m growing worried about the state of Reya’s mental health. I want to do a checkup on her, but without the ship I wasn’t able to. Now that you’re back, I can check to see what might be wrong.” He gave Tassie a meaningful stare and she quickly pieced together that he was worried about her evolving brain structure.

  “That would be wise,” Tassie said, fully in agreement. “I know Adrian asked us to respect their privacy, but in this case I think we should ignore that statement. Reya’s health is more important. Did anything else happen while I was away?”

  Rann quickly gave her an update on the events with Stanley. “It’s what led to the argument in the first place,” she explained.

  Tassie ran a hand through her hair. “This isn’t good,” she said. As the only one with access to the discoveries being made, she was highly concerned that whatever was happening to Stanley was speeding up and that Reya would be affected similarly. “Alright, we need to go check up on her.”

  “I’ll join you,” Rann said. “I don’t think we all need to be there.” She grabbed the data slate in front of her and stood up. Tassie joined her and together they quietly crept up the stairs towards Reya and Adrian’s room. As they approached, the heard muttering puncturing the sobs.

  “—it hurt so much,” came Reya’s voice, stark with terror. “I can’t do it again. Not again.” She continued to cry while Adrian quietly comforted her. Rann and Tassie were unable to hear exactly what it was he said, but they did hear what Reya spoke next.

  The comparisons Reya made to describe her pain left Rann and Tassie disturbed. Still, they weren’t enough. Reya kept talking, each new way to experience pain somehow worse than the one before it. At one point, Rann had the presence of mind to record what they were hearing.

  Tassie noticed. “Are you sure recording this is a good idea?” she whispered as quietly as she could.

  Rann nodded. “Kell is going to need this to properly assess her mental state. And I think the General would be interested in learning about this.”

  “You want to send this to High Command?” Tassie blanched.

  “We need to,” Rann replied. “Something happened to Reya during her time with the gru’ul that caused this. It’s important they know.”

  But Tassie already knew they were aware of what was causing such pain. There were only two things she could think of that could possibly cause the horrendous allegory of pain they were hearing: the purple chemical used on Adrian.

  And whatever equivalent they used on Reya.

  Tassie shuddered and rethought Rann’s statement. “I don’t like it, but you’re right,” she said. “This is something they need to know.” The long-term effects of being exposed to those chemicals were still unclear, as no study of the chemical compounds was permitted. Tassie kept silent on the source of Reya’s pain, knowing full-well that she wasn’t allowed to talk about it.

  The pair stood in front of the bedroom door in silence until they quietly came to the agreement that they’d hear enough. They ghosted back down the stairs and rejoined Beor and Kell at the kitchen table.

  “That took a while,” Beor remarked. “Is everything alright?”

  “Not in the slightest,” Rann replied. “She was describing how much something hurt.”

  “And that’s bad?” Beor asked, perplexed. “What on Verilia was it she was saying?”

  “Show them,” Tassie said to Rann. “They need to understand to help Reya recover, especially Kell.”

  Rann hesitated. She’d only wanted to show the recording to Kell and High Command but couldn’t fault Tassie for wanting the others to be aware of what was wrong with their friend. She played the recording for the other two to hear. By the time it was done, both Beor and Kell sported concerned expressions.

  “I didn’t think pain could be described that way,” Beor said with a shudder. “By the gods, just what did she experience?”

  “Pain,” Tassie said somberly. “Too much of it.”

  Rann focused on Kell. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t think there’s much we could do at the moment,” Kell said. “We should wait for her to calm down a bit before trying anything. How about we give them a little more time?”

  Unease spread throughout the group once they all agreed, Reya’s sobs a background noise that pushed Rann to excuse herself to the ship. Data slate in tow, she left the house.

  And informed High Command of the devolving situation.