I stand a little ways away from the rest of the gang, eating my sandwich and considering the Loric ship parked on the runway. Something’s nagging at me, but I can’t figure out what it is. It’s like there’s a little voice shouting a warning in the back of my mind and I can’t quite make out the words. Seeing me locked in a staring contest with her ship, Lexa approaches me.

“You think this will work?” she asks me, inclining her head towards our defenses.

“Are you asking me if we’re going to win the war today thanks to a big hole in the ground and some guns hidden in the jungle?” I shake my head solemnly. “No way. But maybe we can screw up Setrákus Ra’s plans somehow.”

“I know this probably doesn’t mean much coming from me,” Lexa begins hesitantly, clearly uncomfortable. “But you’re a good leader, Six. You’re holding it together. Your Cêpan would be proud. Hell, all of Lorien would be proud of the fight you guys are putting up.”

I can tell Lexa doesn’t mean just today, she means all our time on Earth, surviving against the Mogadorians. I watch her out of the corner of my eye. I recognize in Lexa a similar quality to one I’ve always strived for myself. She’s a survivor. I wonder if she’s what I’ll become if this war goes on for long; a person who avoids making connections because she’s already experienced too much pain. Maybe I’m already a little too much like that.

“Yeah,” I reply awkwardly. “Thanks.”

Lexa seems satisfied with this short exchange. She probably gets me in the same way I get her and understands I don’t want some big mushy moment. With one hand, she gestures towards the western expanse of jungle.

“When we were landing, I spotted a small clearing about a mile off. I’m going to move our ship over there, away from the Sanctuary. I’ll drive it under the canopy, so they won’t be able to see it.”

“Good thinking,” I reply. “Don’t want to give away to Setrákus Ra that we’re here.”

“Yeah. There’s a good chance he’ll think you retreated.”

“Element of surprise is pretty much the only thing we’ve got going for us.”

“Sometimes that’s all it takes,” Lexa replies, and then leaves me, striding off towards her ship. Our ship, she called it.

I watch her go. There’s still that little voice shouting in the back of my mind, louder now, but still unintelligible. I don’t know what it’s trying to tell me.

“Six? Do you hear that?”

It’s Marina, walking up next to me with one hand pressed to her temple like something is giving her a migraine.

“Hear what?” I ask her.