FLYING SOLO ➳ luke skywalker

TWENTY-FOUR! PROTECT THE FAMILY

DONIO'S office had not changed in the slightest. It was all sleek black furniture and excessively expensive trinkets. He unlocked the glass door that kept a case of liquor well protected and ran his fingers across the collection of the finest galactic vintages. Finally selecting a bottle of Merenzane Gold, he locked the case with a key that hung on a gold chain from his neck. 

"You'll have a glass, won't you?" he asked.

Analia was rooted by the doorway, unmoving and unresponsive. Donio gave a disapproving tut. 

"I'm not going to poison you," he drawled. "Believe me, if I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have made it out of the Grid."

He poured a serving of the rich amber liquid, took a slow and dramatic drink. He then held the glass out to Analia, quirking an eyebrow. She crossed the floor and took the Merenzane Gold from his hand. As Donio sank into the plush seat behind his desk, Analia sloshed the drink about in the crystal glass.

"Sit down," Donio ordered, and when Analia shot him a glare, he exasperatedly added, "You just killed twelve of my best fighters, the least you can do is sit and have a drink with me."

Her glare was unwavering but she obliged nonetheless. The opulent seat was a relief for her bones that ached following her fight back at the Grid. As if he could read her thoughts, Donio gestured to the gash on her cheek that was still slowly oozing blood.

"That looks nasty," he said. 

Analia stared into the glass. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Oh, I don't doubt it."

She was more concerned about the stab wound in her shoulder. As she had told the fighter, the blade had been lodged inside some old scar tissue; it would close up quickly, and Analia would have no fear of infection, but that did not change the fact that it was throbbing painfully and soaking her shirt with thick, hot blood. 

Bracing herself for the burning sensation that would explode in her throat, Analia knocked back a mouthful of Merenzane Gold. She slammed the glass down on the table and Donio, smirking, topped it up and poured himself a serving. He held his drink up in a cheers, an action that Analia did not mirror.

"You knew I would win," Analia said darkly. "You let me kill twelve of your best fighters, just to prove a point."

Donio shrugged, leaning back with arrogance written all over his face. "I'll find others."

Resentment roared to life like a blazing wildfire in Analia's chest.

"That's all we ever were to you," she barked, voice seething with malice. "Expendable weapons and tools."

Donio watched her for a moment, an emotion she didn't recognise flickering in his eyes. Then he shook his head, maintaining eye contact as he did so.

"Not you, though," he told her. "No, you were irreplaceable. I had men searching every corner of the galaxy for you for ten years." He fell silent for a moment, took a swig of his drink, then pointed at her with the glass. "All in vain now, I suppose. You came back to where you belong all on your own."

"I didn't come back," Analia snapped. Only when Donio raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth tugging, did she realise how ludicrous that had sounded. Because yes, she had come back in a technical sense. She was there, in Daiyu City, sat across from Donio Xenos in his office and drinking his liquor. She sighed, scratching the back of her neck. "What I mean is I—I'm not here to stay, I just . . ."

She trailed off, tongue suddenly feeling too big for her mouth, and Donio gave an expectant shake of his head with wide eyes.

"'Just'?"