The job took all night, leaving her eyes bleary and dry, her brain in a fog. She could hardly make out the outlines of her fingers against the doubles and triples in her vision, but it was finally done. She thought. Everything looked connected like it should be, the sloppy work the Fibbuns had done had been rectified, and the only thing left to do was test it.
Of course, a full test couldn't happen until they had a planet to use it on, but she could at least make sure it turned on and didn't explode.
She swallowed thickly at that last thought. A catastrophic failure wouldn't be bad just for her, it could compromise the integrity of the whole ship, rip a hole in it that would destroy the lives of the last remaining Fibbuns.
She literally had their fate in her hands, and if those hands had made any mistakes in this long, sleepless night, there was going to be trouble.
So when she reached out to press the button to turn the machine on, she held her breath.
A light blinked and then a soft humming started. The machine flashed symbols on its display screen, but Lina couldn't read any of them or make any sense of it. She waited and it seemed to need an input of some kind. But it had turned on. Nothing had exploded. That was a success. She'd have to meet with the Captain again to find out if that's further than anyone else had gotten, but she was confident — or as confident as she could be — that it was fixed. With eyes still blurry from exhaustion, she pried the back cover off the device Bain had given her and gave it a quick check. The Fibbuns proved, yet again, to be worthy of their trust.
When she trudged out of the room, her lids heavy as lead, she was immediately greeted by Goblak on the other side of the door. Or, sort of greeted. He was sleeping standing up. Lina smiled and nudged him gently. She felt like she could do the same, but she'd rather fall asleep in a bed.
Of course, as soon as she told the Captain the device was repaired, they'd be free to go. She was sure Bain would want to leave right away, without the time for sleeping. Oh well. She could sleep when all of this was over, she supposed, rubbing her eyes.
Goblak startled, reaching for a weapon he didn't have. Lina threw up her hands and took a step back. "No need to freak out. It's just me," she said, but his defenses had already dropped and he looked about as sheepish as a Fibbun could.
He said something, then frowned and fished around in his pockets until he produced a translator.
"Is it done?"
"I think so," Lina answered. "It needs an input."
"You got it to turn on?" he asked, his voice surprised even if the cube didn't relay that.
She nodded. "I can't really test it without a planet... But I don't think it should give you any more problems," she said, fighting off another yawn.
Goblak reached into another pocket and pulled out a communicator just like the one Bain had given her. The Fibbun fumbled with holding both devices and eventually thrust the cube into Lina's hands in order to better operate the communicator.
The translator worked only on bits of the conversation, but Lina gathered that the Captain was coming to view her handiwork. Just as well. She wanted to get out of here.
"He will send someone to fetch your prince, as well," Goblak said. Though the words were without inflection coming from the cube, she heard something in his voice, saw something in his eyes. Maybe a bit of bittersweetness. If she were honest with herself, she'd grown a little fond of Goblak, too. They'd had a rocky start, but if it hadn't been for him letting her get her message across, they might not have ever gotten to this point.
"Thank you," she said.
His head tilted slightly. "Thank me? You are the one who has worked so tirelessly."
She nodded. "But if it weren't for you treating me like an equal that first day in Quarantine, none of us would be here now."
If a Fibbun could look bashful, Goblak managed it now. "You didn't make it easy to ignore you," he said, and Lina thought she noted a bit of teasing in that so she just grinned.
"I always have been rather difficult."
It wasn't long before the Captain arrived, and then Bain shortly after him. The Captain, along with a couple Fibbun scientists — who ooh'd and aah'd over every little thing Lina had done — examined the device and turned it on just as she had.
"I figured the people who gifted this to you would have told you the inputs needed?" she asked, perched on her toes, trying to keep her nerves in check while everything in her told her to bolt while she could. The instinct to escape, to run away, was useless to her right now. They were no threat to her, she'd done them a favor, and they had agreed to pay her in turn. Still, her brain screamed that they were all going to see that she didn't know what she was doing and go back on everything they agreed and start the war again and somehow it would all be her fault.
But then the Captain grunted. "Yes. Everything looks to be in order. We have been very lucky to have come across someone with your skills."
Lina wanted to point out that they didn't 'come across' her so much as 'seek and destroy' her ship. But she held her tongue. No use making waves now when this was all almost over.
"We would like to host a feast, of thanks," the Captain said.
Lina's eyes went wide — which was quite the feat with how exhausted she was. Attending some public gathering was the very last thing she wanted to do right now, but how could she refuse when they were so gracious?
Luckily, Bain stepped in to the rescue.
"With all due respect, Captain, we have diverted from our plans enough as it is. We have loved ones waiting for word of our well-being and as generous as your offer is, I think we'd prefer to spend our time with them."
The Captain was silent for a long stretch and Lina held her breath, hoping that Bain hadn't just gravely offended him to the point of reneging on all of their agreements.
But finally, the Captain gave one quick nod. "Of course. You are free to leave whenever you like."
"Thank you," Bain said, bowing.
The Captain seemed taken aback by the gesture, but also seemed to recognize its significance and returned the Fibbun-style salute Lina had seen others give him.
Then, the Captain and his scientists turned back to the device she'd fixed, and Bain took her by the hand, tugging her away from the lab. "Come on, let's get out of here," he hissed.
Goblak still stood sentry by the door, and as they passed, Lina couldn't help herself. She went right up to him and gave him a big hug, not even caring about his stickiness. "I wish you all the best, my friend," she said, her throat tightening. She was suddenly very glad that Suriah had been too distracted for any kind of emotional goodbyes when they left. No doubt she would have cried uncontrollably on that occasion; she was barely holding it together now.
"And you as well," Goblak said, with the help of a translator.
She let go, a heaviness in her heart, but when she looked to Bain, his hand outstretched for her, leading her to their future together, it was hard to be upset. They were going to Earth. They were going to see Mom. And one day, maybe far-off in the future, they were going to be married. How could she possibly be sad with all of that to look forward to?
Luckily for Lina, Bain had gotten the hang of his communicator and navigating the ship with it. After handing it over, she didn't have to think. She didn't have to pay attention. She just followed him, barely able to keep her eyes open, her head drooping forward if she forgot to hold it up. But she had Bain. Her rock. And he was leading her. She had nothing to worry about. He wound through hallways and up and down levels and zigzagged in dizzying patterns, but before Lina knew it, they were in the hangar.
It looked so different now than what she remembered through the frenzied snapshots in her brain. She'd been so paralyzed with fear, so convinced that Bain was dead the last time she'd been in this place.
She squeezed his hand tighter, making sure that fear knew it had no place here now. They were still together, more committed than ever. Nothing was going to tear them apart. That was precisely the kind of confidence that would have scared her before, that would have made her wonder if she was somehow jinxing things by thinking that they were strong and committed. But now she knew better. Now she had an unshakable faith in the two of them. Together, they could accomplish anything, and she just knew that those things would be great.
"Ours is right over here," Bain said cheerfully, practically dragging Lina along beside him. The hangar was mostly empty, but that wasn't saying much other than the sheer size of the place. It put the cavern to shame. There were a few dozen ships of varying sizes, all contained in the massive enclosed space. Out the windows that lined the walls here, Lina could see other ships, hanging on like barnacles, those too big to be contained inside, she supposed. Or maybe escape pods in case the hangar was inaccessible during an emergency?
The hangar was also one of the places on the ship — besides the negotiation room — where everything seemed to be kept in perfect repair. The people may have lost everything else, but they hadn't lost their hope that one day they wouldn't be confined to this ship. That they'd be able to travel between worlds again and even settle one. She admired that resilience; it was something she thought they all had in common. And like Bain said, finding commonality was going to be very important in stating their case to the queen. Even exhausted and ready to collapse, Lina managed to file that away for later.
Bain hesitated at the opening of the ship, turning back to her with an arched brow. "Are you sure we should be going just now? You look like you're liable to collapse any time."
She shook her head, the movement making her dizzy, and forced a smile to her lips. "No, no. I'm fine. We should set out immediately. I can rest once the trip is underway."
Bain still looked unconvinced, but offered a tiny shrug and led her up the stairs into the heart of the ship. She'd barely glimpsed the outside, but it was miles above the makeshift ship she'd cobbled together from scrap. It was all sleek, clean lines, seamless and gleaming. Surely a ship like this could take them anywhere safely.
Inside, the ship was no less impressive, though Lina still struggled to keep her eyes open.
"I'm not sure I can manage to get us out of here on my own," Bain said, still cautious.
Lina stifled a yawn behind her hand, shaking her head again. "Isn't there an autopilot?"
He was at the controls and she still wavered on her feet near the entrance, shuffling toward him to look over his shoulder.
"I don't know," he said, sounding frustrated. Lina could laugh. How could he be so surly when everything was looking so bright? They'd helped the Fibbuns, they were on their way to Earth, they had this wonderful ship, what could there be for him to be upset about?
"Hmm," she leaned forward and studied the controls, starting the engines and closing the door. It seemed he was right about there not being an autopilot. Or, if there was, it wasn't available for take-off.
She took a deep breath and ushered him aside, shaking the cobwebs from her mind and blinking rapidly. She just had to focus long enough to get them out of here and then she could sleep the whole trip.
"Lina..."
"Shh," she cut off Bain's worried prodding. "Just let me do this."
The ship hummed quietly as she edged it forward, navigating around the other ships to get to the bay doors. Once they were there, the door slowly retracted and space opened out before them. She craned her neck, trying to see who on the main ship was there to assist them, but she couldn't see anything behind them. Maybe that was for the best. Looking to the past was rarely helpful. It just led to bitterness. She was better off looking ahead anyway.
"Here goes nothing," she muttered. Bain was standing right behind her, and his hand found her shoulder, squeezing. She should probably tell him to sit down and strap in, but the effort seemed too much. They weren't fighting planetary gravity; hopefully the force wouldn't be too great.
Taking one more deep breath, she pushed the throttle and the ship shot forward, leaving the Fibbuns behind. She turned them just enough so that she could take a last look at their ship, her heart conflicted. So much had changed since they were captured. So many of their perceptions had been challenged. And now... she didn't know if she could just go to Earth and be happy there with Mom. Even if Bain did stay with her. It seemed too selfish. They owed the Fibbuns more than that. They owed them their very best effort to make good on their promises.
"That was painless," Bain said, sighing.
Lina turned to him with a cheeky grin. "You sound surprised."
He brushed her hair away from her forehead and leaned down to kiss her. "No offense, my love, but you don't exactly seem to be in top form at the moment."
She nodded, forcing another yawn back behind her hand. Now, the option to initiate the autopilot was available. "Just need to set these coordinates..." she said, typing in Earth's galactic address. This was all so much easier on the Fibbun ship than it had been on hers. Maybe if they could take this ship back to Mabnoa, they could learn something from it.
Of course, Bain said that wasn't possible, but he'd had a change of heart on many subjects lately. There was just so much they could learn.
"Alright, now it's off to bed with you. This ship actually has a cabin, isn't that great?"
Lina chuckled as he pulled her to her feet and steered her off to the back of the ship. "What, you didn't like snuggling on the floor?"
He grinned and kissed her temple. "I didn't say that, but this is much more comfortable."
She yawned again. "Didn't you sleep while I was working?"
"What's your point?"
"You're not as tired as I am."
"Very good," he said, jokingly patronizing.
"So you're not going to sleep with me," she added, a little more tartly though there was a tinge of sadness, maybe even a bit of a pout in her tone.
He squeezed her upper arms and pushed her down onto the impossibly soft mattress. "What's your point?" he asked, that infuriating lopsided grin still teasing her.
She spread her arms out wide, luxuriating in the feel of the bed as it seemed to suck her in. But in a good way. Not like the scary vacuum. She couldn't even force her eyes open as she gave him a sleepy smile and a shrug. "Well, I was going to say I'll be lonely, but on second thought, I'm not sure I want to share this bed with you."
He pulled the blankets up around her and tucked them under her on all sides, a kind of routine they’d settled into when putting each other to bed — which seemed to happen rather frequently now that she thought about it. Hopefully when they had this all sorted out, sleeping wouldn't just be a thing they did when they literally couldn't stand not to anymore. She quite enjoyed having a normal sleep schedule with plenty of rest, and hadn't really had that since she left home. But soon, maybe. Soon she wouldn't be so tired all the time.
"I can keep you company if you want. I thought it would be a good idea for one of us to be awake to avoid any more... surprises," he said. She couldn't open her eyes now — they felt glued shut — but she was sure he was wrinkling his nose at the memory of their capture.
"Good idea," she said, sleep already dragging her under. "You're so smart."
Bain chuckled and sank onto the bed next to her, carefully avoiding her starfish limbs all akimbo. "I don't know about that," he said, stroking her hair, "but I I've got a smart woman in my life who's been a good influence."
She snorted. "What a charmer."
The sound of his voice washed over her, his fingers delicately stroking her hair, the bed sucking her in... Whatever he said, she didn't hear it. She was asleep in moments.