Ficlet - 'Binary Starlings'

Ahahahahahaaaa... God this is like four years old but here I go, I guess.

I'm stupidly self-conscious about my writing on account of I never have good ideas that aren't related to some game or cartoon or whatever. Voltron had a pretty big influence on me. I've written quite a bit related to it. I hate most of it. But I hated this one maybe a little less than the rest, so I'm putting it here until I get fucking embarrassed enough to take it back down.

“I’m not happy with you, you know..”

It was a refrain Kazka had gotten all too used to hearing, to the point that she could count the exact fractions of a tick before the usual, displeased rumble vibrated its way through the darkened cockpit.

“You almost got yourself blasted into space dust back there, and for what? A handful of GAC? You’re better than that.”

“Nobody’s better than trying to make a living, Horus,” the lanky Galran groaned, kicking her feet up onto the dash and letting herself slide on down into the padded seat. “Neither you nor I. You know we need the money, and it doesn’t help that you’re still wounded from our last close shave with the Empire.” She swept her gaze over the banks of monitors, her heart sinking a little at the pulsing alerts and wavering graphs that cast a worrying red tone over everything. “On top of that, we still need to replace those nav-jets of yours. You’re getting a little shaky on your turnarounds.”

A row of warning lights flickered derisively overhead.  “Are you calling me slow?” Argumentative. Typical of him.

Sighing, Kazka laced her fingers together, her claw-tips digging in between her knuckles. “I’m not calling you slow, I’m just calling you… well…” She looked around at the panels and screens surrounding her. Not him, exactly, and yet it was, ever since Haggar and her druids got their way. “It’s not like before, when you could just heal naturally from a cut.” Her frown deepened. “We don’t have access to a regular mechanic out here, either, and even if we did-”

“I know.” The ambient light dimmed, Horus’s voice coming in closer this time, more solemn, crackling quietly from the speakers next to Kazka’s ears. “Believe me, I’m still getting used to this myself. I’m just wondering if… if maybe we didn’t jump the gun a little, leaving when we did. We weren’t prepared for any of this…”

Kazka gritted her teeth. “We didn’t have a choice. They were about to reassign you to someone else. Do you know what that would have done to me?”

“Maybe, but then you wouldn’t be out here risking your neck on a daily basis just to keep up with my maint-”

“Do you think I care about that?!” Kazka shot back, pounding a fist against the side of the armrest. “Listen, I don’t care what happens. The Empire did its damnedest to separate us, and so long as I’m breathing I’m not going to let them try that again.” A lump swelled in her throat, making it hard to choke back the threat of tears. It was bad enough that Horus could read her vitals anyway, that he could see how her heart rate and blood pressure skyrocketed whenever they got into these arguments. To let him see her cry was the last thing she needed.

She settled for a physical barrier, drawing her knees up to her face and locking her arms around them. She could see nothing, but she could feel the shudder as the cockpit itself seemed to sigh, Against her back, a soothing vibration - just the faintest thing, akin to the trailing of fingers over her spine. An apology, of sorts.

“Shush, Dratera.” Horus ‘murmured’, the ambience shifting to a dim purple, punctuated by reds still pulsing from the sides. “There’s no use in arguing right now.” The seat beneath Kazka reclined of its own accord, inviting her to stretch out once she dared unfurl herself. “Rest, and I’ll seek out a hiding place for the time being. We’ll come at this problem tomorrow with clearer heads.”

He was right, of course. He usually was about these things, even back when they were just a couple of hot-headed cadets together. But so much had changed since then. She couldn’t fathom how he still had it in him to remain so collected, especially after all he’d suffered at the hands of the druids.

Absently, she ran a knuckle over the contours of the seat back, still genuinely wondering if he could feel it even after all the times he’d assured her that he couldn’t sense a thing. ‘Machines don’t feel’, he’d argued. Yet she had a sneaking suspicion otherwise, that it was just another of his tactics to protect her, to keep her from worrying over him.

Always putting others first. It was how he wound up in this situation, to begin with.  But it wasn’t a point worth arguing. Not anymore. Better to just do as he said, and try to get some sleep.

“Good night,” she bade him in a grumble, rolling onto her side and nestling her head into the crook of her arm. She was given only silence in return, the faint sound of static echoing in the tiny space, until-

“Love you, My Heart…” The words were only barely perceptible, faint as though he’d hoped she wouldn’t hear them. But they brought a smile to her lips, equal to his volume, almost secretive in how tiny it was.

Love you, too.