Hopes

Chapter 21.

"But we need to go!" I hissed, bewilderment stampeding across my features. But the black-clad young man in front of me remained unmoved, arms folded across his chest as he refused to board the ship. We hadn't been in the Public Coronet Shipyard long enough to have drawn attention to ourselves, but I knew we didn't have much time. The other buyers and owners were wandering about the rectangular yard, minding their own business – for now.

"It was this ship you chose, wasn't it?" I asked in exasperation, gesturing to the little, boxy vessel parked behind him. It had certainly looked in better condition on the datapad, but as far as I could tell, the scrapes and dents across its greyish-brown surface were mostly superficial. Perhaps the patches of rust around the hinges from which the wings folded out were concerning, but again, it only seemed external. However, I was not the engineer or the shipbuilder in our twosome, so it was likely he had seen more serious issues. Sometimes, though, I just wished he would talk to me. It might have helped to banish the creeping doubts that I had been set up and he was simply waiting to be found.

He nodded, walking over to the ship and ducking beneath its tucked-up wings. Crouching, he ran his gloved hand along the ship's belly. Flakes of metal and dirt fluttered to the ground, and the landing gear on the ship creaked when he pushed against its side.

I buried my hands in my sleeves, hiding my tapping fingers from prying eyes as I watched him intently. As he bumped and fiddled, adjusting and tweaking parts of the ship, I waited. I listened, I watched, and I waited. With every passing minute, I became more uneasy, and those around us became more interested. I tried to believe that Solus was making the ship work better and not worse, and I tried to believe that he wasn't stalling and that everything he was doing was necessary to make the ship fly. But hardest of all, I tried not to believe my fears, because that was all they were – I hoped.

He sat down beside the ship, using some tool he had procured from his belt to prise open a small panel, but it wouldn't budge. He attempted once more, then his shoulders slumped in a noiseless sigh. He glanced back at me, letting his hidden gaze linger on me for a few moments as though sizing me up, then he spun around and lay down, manoeuvring himself underneath the ship.

I suddenly understood the implications of his long look. His tucked knees and tense body gave away his thoughts. He had been deciding if I would misuse the compromised position and exposed torso he was about to adopt. Being trapped under a ship was not a safe place in which to put oneself, and his past years spent succumbing to this position and suffering either because of a sneaky enemy or a cheeky padawan learner had taught him just that. But it seemed his action proved a degree of trust in me, both that I would not abuse it and that I would protect him from others who might. The realization sent my mind reeling, but I tamped down my shock and joy, instead focusing my attention on the present. It would have done no good if I was distracted and Solus suffered because of it.

Just as a pop-zap sounded from where Solus was working, a weedy human approached me, curiosity etched into his grim features. "What are you doing here?"

I resisted my impulse to face him as I answered, attempting to keep my identity hidden. "We're just planning to leave."

"You've been here a while," he said suspiciously, but then Solus slid out from under the ship. He glanced from me to the man, then got to his feet and dusted himself down. Indicating for me to follow, he rounded the ship and boarded the little landing ramp at the back.

"If you'll excuse me," I cringed at my automatic courtesy, "we'll be going." I could feel his eyes on me the whole way into the ship. I shut the door quickly, then breathed a sigh of relief.

Solus was at the pilot's seat, but to my surprise, he wasn't sitting in it. Instead, his gaze was on me. Not for the first time, I had to hush my frustrations at being unable to see his face.